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[planetsage]

NEW PIN ! ꒰ 🪷 LUST FOR LIFE 𖧧˚⋆ʚɞ ── choso kamo 𝜗𝜚 . . . SAVE ?

“and i was like take off, take off, take off all your clothes”

contains. nsfw so, minors and ageless blogs do not interact. f!reader. dom!choso / bsf!choso, kinda ooc, mentions of sex toys, solo masterbation, getting caught, m rec oral, deepthroat, spit, dirty talk, missionary, some possessiveness, overstimulation, creampie. 2k words.

choso realized early on in your friendship that he finds issues in locating exactly where the metaphorical line lies between you two.

he knows that, yes; he loves you with an unconditional devotion that scribbles color over every inch and corner of his life. if he could, he’d bring the moon down and bottle it up for you. in the shape of his love. he’d steal the stars.

but sometimes his brain cramps up in confusion because he shouldn’t be imagining how soft and clammy his best friend’s pretty little hands would feel wrapped around the girth of his cock, right?

he knows it’s wrong. he knows he’s just being gross; there’s always a subtle pang of guilt that strums and strings at his heart when he’s with you, but every time he stiffens at his very, very lively imagination, he just can’t help the tight grip, his thumbs rubbing little circles on his sensitive tip before moving with the rest of his fingers to jerk off to the pictures you send him throughout your day.

and you don’t make it any easier for him.

the way your touch lingers for too long, your gaze planting camellia seeds over the plot of his cheeks.

and now, he’s staying at your place while his ac gets fixed; he spent a grueling few days in the oppressive summer heat, sticky and sweaty, and couldn’t bear it any longer. naturally, like the great friend you are, you warmly offered up a guest bedroom to him. and he accepted.

he quickly went to pack a few days’ worth of clothes and toiletries. while scrambling around his room one last time to make sure he had everything, he saw the pink lip outline of the fleshlight he stuffs full almost every night; the fleshlight that he bought in your exact skin tone.

he almost brought it. almost. but decided it’d be rude to indulge himself like that in your guest bedroom after you so graciously offered the space to him. so he left it.

god, does he regret it now.

lying in bed after dinner where you must’ve been trying to kill him, wearing nothing but a little crop top and some boy-shorts underwear. the cotton mockingly hugging up on the cuff of your ass. doing nothing to clothe you.

even in the guest room, everything smells like you. the soft of the sheets, the silky pillows, hell, even the air. it’s too much. like your scent took a physical form to torture and encase his entire body.

“haaa … fu— fuck” his hips roll languidly against the plump mattress as he groans out, ravened locks falling all over the bones of his flushed face. he sinks his teeth into one of the pillows, drooling all over it, and screws his eyes shut to imagine how your pussy would feel letting him in, stretching around his cock, “nghh ... yea. just — just like that …”

sitting up, he pushes the heavy covers off of him; he’s hot, sweating under the thick duvet. pulling his shorts down because it’s too much. poor boy is too hard, throbbing and leaking all over your sheets with a pretty pink dusting his body, “shit..” he whispers sweetly, laying his warmed, wet tongue flat against his palms before wrapping around himself, almost whining at the contact.

he flicks his wrists rhythmically, his mouth bowing open at how loudly his messy cock squelches, filling the room, his hips canting up into his fists.

but he wishes it was you.

the pretty wings of his eyes flap and flutter shut, picturing the way the fat of your ass would bounce on him, how you’d cream all over his cock, “so fuckin’ messy for me— oh my god” wondering how you touch yourself. do you use your fingers? toys? he could probably fill you up way better than any plastic ever could .. do you ever think of him when you play with your pussy? “fuck— fuck fuck fuck”

his eyes peel back open to the door he purposefully left cracked. though he knows getting caught now, like this had the potential to ruin the entire friendship, he banks on the chance that you want him too. his head falls back against the wooden headboard like a marionette’s dropping from its strings. so caught up in making himself cum he doesn’t hear your feet shuffling, nearing the room.

the deep groans you heard from your room stirred you awake, urging you to check on him, pulling you closer and closer to the door until you’re right up by it. you can see his dark silhouette through the crack. your eyes growing big at how he’s quickly pumping himself.

you move closer; the door is only slightly ajar and something inside you wants to see more. hear more. your heart thumps rhythmically in the drums of your ears and your shoulder presses against the wood, causing a creek to sound and cut through his moans like velvet.

you freeze.

his eyes lock onto yours, and he freezes too. even though this is what he wished for deep down he didn't actually expect the stars to align, for better or worse.

your breathing picks up, your feet glued to the ground as if gravity hated you, rooting you in place. and choso can’t think of anything to say but a meek, “sorry” waiting and watching how you react:

your teeth clamp down to chew on the fat of your bottom lip. your breaths coming out in quick winds, big eyes falling to where his hand squeezes and coaxes out drops of sticky precum.

“… come here”

your upper body scrambles, almost leaving your legs behind as you pad towards him. crawling over the thrown sheets up onto the bed and it dips. behind your wispy lashes reveals fairytale like eyes because you’ve been wanting to have him like this for as long, if not longer, than he has.

he parts his thighs and you nestle between them without a word, moving your hands to his bare legs as they frame you; digging your nails into the taut muscles. as long as you’ve known him, choso has obsessively gone to the gym. vibrantly showing you basically nudes rebranded as ‘progress pictures.’ you squeeze his legs making him twitch, his hand moving to your chin, making you look up at him, “i want you .. to wrap these preetty lips,” his thumb moves to push and stroke against your bottom lip, “around my dick. been thinkin’ about them for so long. can you do that for me?” he’s groaning with a raw authority you’ve never heard or seen from him.

and it makes you so fucking wet.

you nod and he leans back, scooting his hips lower and spreading himself. “use your words. i don’t want this unless you do, too”

“yes. i want it so bad. want to make you feel good, cho” you grab his cock with both hands, warm and throbbing against your soft palms, before pushing it up against your flushed cheek, rubbing it against your pretty face.

“that’s it. i knew you’d want it, pretty girl. now show me”

you press light kisses to his flushed tip, up and down his length, watching keenly as he hisses at your little touches. whispering out a, “so pretty.”

he’s watched and replayed this scene so many times in his head; you laid out between his legs pressing puffed lips against his cock, but it doesn’t hold a candle to the real thing.

you stretch out your jaw, letting him plug up your warm mouth. his eyes roll so far back with a deep groan, your tongue laying flat on his veiny underside as you bob your head on him, your hand moving to massage and squeeze what doesn’t fit in your wet mouth, the other groping at his heavy balls, “fe— haah, feel so good.”

he’s already so close from earlier, raising his ass to buck into your little mouth even though you’re full of him. his tip knocking against the back of your throat making you whine out muffled, “hmph mhmm” ‘s

“don’t — shit. don’t talk with your mouth full, baby. take me all in, you can do it”

he grabs a fist full of your hair, pushing you all the way down making you gag, spit pooling and spilling out around where he clogs your little mouth up. tears line your eyes, spilling over your cheeks as he fills up your throat, “aht aht baby take it all. you’re almost there. c’mon ….. mhhmmm theeeeere you go”

you pull off of him gagging and coughing out glops of fat, foamy spit.

“oh ‘m sorry, sweet thing” he leans in to lick at the spit and tears dripping down the point of your chin before kissing you. his plump pink lips pressing so harshly against yours, tongue sliding greedily into your mouth licking at every corner. the clumsy wetness of it all has you panting as he pulls back, clear spit trailing from your mouths.

“please .. let me fuck you. been wanting to for so long”

his eyes sort of soften as they bore into yours, begging silently with a puppy like glow.

“ .. me too” you assure and he moves to guide you onto your back, grabbing your legs. he presses a sweet kiss to the base of your ankle, “mm. i’ll take such good care of this pretty pussy. ‘s mine now, right?

“yes .. yes, choso. fuck me. ‘m all yours”

he pushes your little thong to side to smear his swollen fat tip against your messy folds, pushing up against your clit “so wet f’me baby .. i did that? you liked having me down your throat that much?”

“hnngg, cho— stop teasing”

then, he realized that you came into the room with nothing but an oversized tee. and a cute little thong. for him. slapping his cock against your pretty cunt three times before smearing against your folds again.

he sinks into your warmth with a long, drawn out, “fuuuuuucckk” at how your little pussy opens up for him, squeezing him so tight. and he’s so big. stretching you out, dragging his fat length against your pinky walls, pushing his hips into yours until he fully bottoms out.

his hands dig into your skin, so rough he might leave bruises because he’s trying so hard to keep himself grounded and not dump his cum into you right this moment. you feel so good. too good.

he moves slowly at first. letting your pussy adjust to him as his thumb swipes against your clit, easing him in. “‘s almost there, baby, you can do it. let me in, pretty girl”

he continues to pet your clit, then you look up into his eyes. and they stare back into yours. dark purple swirled around pools of black, “harder”

that’s all he needed to hear.

his hips harshly slam into yours, your body arching up to meet his deep strokes. angling to make sure the sweet curve of his cock hits that spot that makes you shake, bolts of pleasure striking through your entire body.

the room fills with your little whines, pretty broken moans of his name. heat emitting from your body and mixing with his as he moves to grab at your boobs. the tips of his fingers tweaking and pulling your nipples, “aahhh, cho—so fuck”

your legs hang over his shoulder, sweat slipping and sliding down his temples, “tell me you’re mine” reaching up you struggle to hold on to the girth of his biceps, “yours! ‘m all yours!”

you’re so close. so sensitive, your pussy clenching and pulsing around him in tune with every heavy snap of his waist. “go ahead, baby. give it to me”

it’s feels like you’re on fire. every inch of your body so overwhelmed it’s almost painful. your skin flushes and a warm sensation washes over your entire body as you squeeze around him, “theeeree you go, baby, mhhm, that’s it” shaking against his strong arms when your orgasm cracks like lightning and rips through you.

his cock throbs inside you, his strokes growing sloppy and heavy as he fucks you through your high. overstimulating your pussy. he pushes to drain his thick cum inside you. paint your warm walls with him, groaning out your name.

“holy— shit..” his breaths come out in heavy gasps, twitching you as he grows soft in the solitude of your silky walls.

he’s so warm. filling you all the way up with fat globs of cum. “mmmm, keep me in, baby” pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of your parted lips. then another to the tip of your nose.

as soon as his ac gets fixed, he’s going to throw away that stupid toy. he’s got the real thing to fill up now.

© planetsage 2024 all rights reserved. no part of this may be reproduced in any form.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

WE CAN DIP IF YOU’RE READY ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; your dreams of a peaceful summer are rudely shattered by the presence of your best friend’s older brother; the same brother who rejected you five years ago. the same brother you’re still hopelessly, uselessly in love with.

word count; 7.4k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, best friend’s brother!gojo (he’s the hottest man in the stratosphere imo), mild age gap (five years!), unrequited love, but with a hopeful ending kind of, bittersweet fluff, mostly summer shenanigans and pining, riko is satoru’s younger sister and i would give her the stars, sugu makes a guest appearance, (they’re both just there to bully gojo), he’s fairly mature in this i think, reader is very stubborn and very down bad, [name] is used exactly once

a/n; personally i would let him use me as workout gear (tagging @teddybeartoji @dollsuguru @hayakawalove @stellamancer @vagabond-umlaut !! tysm for the help and encouragement ily 🥺🥺)

one mellow summer morning, over a breakfast of pancake and toast, the puppy-love you’ve nurtured for the past three years finally reaches its conclusion.

you’re seventeen years old. in three months you’ll be eighteen, standing on your own two feet, headed in a new direction — the whole world within your reach.

but right now you’re still only seventeen, and lovesick, and sleeping on a mattress in your best friend’s room; listening to the sound of the nearby sea. you’re seventeen, and dreaming about things you can’t have. you’re seventeen, and foolishly wearing your heart on your sleeve. 

you’re seventeen, and hopelessly, uselessly in love with a certain satoru gojo.

it’s early. your veins are sleepy and your heart is heavy, and you wake up at the crack of dawn just to catch a glimpse of him before he leaves for work. he’s leaning against the kitchen island when you trot down the stairs, and the smell of syrupy pancakes hangs heavy in the air; his bare chest is exposed, pajama pants clinging to the curve of his hips, and he rejects you with an easygoing kindness you wish he wouldn’t grant you.

”you’re more like a younger sibling to me. you understand, right?”

(suddenly, without mercy; a finality to his voice.)

he ruffles your hair, and you’re still sleepy, and you wish you could grasp the strings of your heartbeat to stop it from fluttering like this. wish you could pull yourself out of whatever trance he put you in, all those years ago, when you stumbled over the threshold to your best friend’s house and crashed headfirst into his chest.

”you’re a good kid,” he says, and his smile teeters on the edge of something apologetic. mostly, it’s pitying. ”there are lots of people out there for you.”

he ruffles your hair, as affectionate as ever, the same as it’s always been. not a trace of any romantic intent. the weight of his palm on your head is usually a comfort, but like this?

it’s a specific kind of torture. 

(i know, you want to tell him, but your voice is raspy and your throat feels sort of dry. i know.

but i want you.)

“don’t get hung up on a schoolgirl crush, hm?”

when you finally raise your head, satoru is looking at you, looking through you. kindly, patiently, like a benevolent god; his blue eyes flecked with dots of white, fluffy clouds on a summer sky. tilting his head to the right, as if searching for confirmation, waiting for your response. you muster up the will to nod, smiling in a way that must seem pitiful.

but he just pinches your cheek, throws a backpack over his broad shoulders, and asks you to let his sister know he’ll be home later than usual today.

then he leaves. he leaves you alone with two plates of pancakes on the kitchen table, sugary and sweet, one for you and one for riko. he put whipped cream on top, and chocolate chips in the batter. it smells good. it smells like an apology.

and that’s how it ends. 

there’s no great climax, no real resolution. you bite down on your lip, and spend about an hour pitifully sniffling into a fluffy pillow, even though none of it comes as a surprise. it still hurts, though. your best friend comforts you, tells you that at least you have some kind of closure now — an absolute rejection to make your feelings go away. about time, she thinks, though she’s far too kind to say it outloud.

… except they don’t.

the moral of the story is: satoru gojo doesn’t love you back. he’s known you since you were fourteen, since he was nineteen, and he could never see you as anything more than a naive little kid. you’re his sister’s best friend, and he loves you, but not in the way you love him. it’s not surprising, or shocking. it’s exactly how it should be.

satoru gojo doesn’t love you back. he never will.

(you really, really wish your stupid heartbeat cared.)

five years later, on a breezy summer evening, you step onto a bustling train platform with your luggage in tow — breathing in the scent of a familiar seaside.

above you, seagulls chatter and cry. you look up at them, and then back down; everything feels familiar, despite the time that’s passed since the last summer you visited. the same flowers, peach blossoms and hydrangeas and tulips in all kinds of shades, the same street vendors and aroma of freshly grilled fish. the same cute and quaint port town, quiet during winter and autumn, pleasantly noisy during the warmer seasons. right now, on the cusp of june, there are enough tourists around to make finding the right face in the crowd a difficult task.

luckily, she’s quick to find you. 

there she is. with her long, dark locks of hair, neatly braided, a yellow sundress and matching headband; sunflowers embroidered into the fabric. barreling towards you with a speed that would scare you a little if you weren’t so used to it, so used to her.

riko. your one and only best friend.

she’s nestled into your embrace before you can get any greetings out, and squeezing you so tightly that you have no choice but to let her beat you to it. she’s warm, like a bundle of sunshine. the same as always.

with a low whine of your name, she nuzzles into your chest. “i missed youuuu…”

a chuckle bubbles up in your throat. and even though it hasn’t been very long at all, even though you talk on the phone almost every day and saw each other just a month ago — you indulge her.

“i missed you too, riko…”

another whine, and then she’s pulling back. squishing your cheeks together and pouting petulantly. “you better have! don’t ever make me spend summer all alone again, okay?”

”you’re still mad about that?” you match her expression, sulking. “it’s not my fault i got sick.”

“too sick to see your best friend? too sick to continue our most important tradition?” she shakes her head, letting go of you. struggling not to smile. “awful. just awful!”

“drama queen.” her lips break out into a grin, and yours follow. “i’m here now, aren’t i?”

“you are,” she agrees, quick to link her arm with yours. you follow her steps, leading you towards a familiar house, resting in the distance. you can see it from here, a roof burdened with morning glories, those expensive white walls. “no, but seriously. i’m really happy to see you.” her voice drips with joy, giddy and sweet. “i don’t think i’d survive two months alone with that old man.” 

(… ah. right.)

the girl on your right chatters on and on, clinging to you, gradually melting away your skittish nerves. she tells you about her morning, what she ate for breakfast, the new show she’s been binging — it’s just as familiar as the house that soon comes fully into view. big and expensive, but still cozy, overgrown with flora. you don’t think either of the siblings really bother to take care of it, but it’s a pretty kind of neglect. a cute veranda, a beautiful garden. the apple tree you used to climb.

from within an opened window, translucent curtains swaying with the breeze, the buzz of an old radio spills out. when you strain your ears, you think you hear humming — gentle and sweet.

riko grins, dragging you with her through the opened gate. the yellow paint on the fence is starting to peel, and someone from inside has started pushing the door open, and the butterflies in your stomach can do nothing but sputter and squirm.

it’s summer, and you're back. back in that cute, quaint port town.

(and so is he.)

“why, hello there! if it isn’t my cute little [name].”

time stills, for just a single moment.

he looks the same as you remember. a little taller, you think, but he was always tall enough to tower over you; broad shoulders and long legs, sharp blue eyes gazing down at you. he’s wearing black shades, but you can still feel the weight of his pupils, crumble under the knowledge that his attention is entirely on you. wearing a pair of sweatpants and a tight black shirt, showing off every dip and ridge of his chest.

a pleasantly cool breeze ruffles his white hair, short and trimmed, healthy locks to match his bright and sunny grin.

he looks happy to see you.

“don’t be weird,” comes riko’s voice, breaking you out of your little spell. all while she’s ushering you both towards the door, beyond the threshold, into the hallway. satoru clicks his tongue.

“so hostile today. shouldn't you be in a good mood?”

then he’s turning towards you, tilting his head just enough for his eyes to peek out. they’re crinkled at the edges, and his smile is fond. “how was your trip?”

more butterflies. his voice flows from his glossy lips, smooth and melted, pleasantly deep. you can only hang on to riko’s arm, mustering a small smile of your own. “good,” you chirp. a little stiff, but polite, like you’re greeting an old friend; it’s been so long since you last spoke to him. ”… i’m tired, though.”

your reply is met with a chuckle, a raspy tremor of his vocal cords. it sends a shiver down your spine. the weight on your arm disappears, as riko stumbles forward and kicks her sandals off, muttering something about gum getting stuck on the sole. you’re left standing right across from satoru, suddenly very aware of how much space he takes up all on his own — leaning against the wall, making himself comfortable. and chuckling, with that stupidly sexy voice.

”i bet,” he hums. ”take a nap if you need to, yeah?”

a moment of silence. riko curses in the background, and you shift from foot to foot, unable to properly look into his eyes. for a second, his smile drops — eyes obscured by the black glass of his frames, betraying no emotion. it only lasts a second.

then he’s moving forward.

one large stride towards you, as sudden as a lightning bolt, before he leans down to wrap his arms around you. squeezing your waist, with his biceps, not quite as tight as you remember his hugs being; you wonder if he’s holding back.

(his touch burns your skin, all the same.)

one of his palms finds solace on the top of your head, ruffling your hair. you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks, terribly sincere.

“i missed you, kiddo.”

a quiet squeak tumbles from your lips, and you pray to every god you can think of that he doesn’t hear it. his chest is pressed right against you, firm, radiating body heat. his limbs wrap you up in it, a cocoon of warmth that makes it hard to breathe. you can smell his cologne from where your cheek meets his collarbone; sandalwood invading your senses.

“i m-missed you too,” is all you can croak out, voice breaking pitifully. at this rate you might actually faint.

just out of view, riko narrows her eyes. before you can plead for help, she’s tugging you away from the embrace, pushing her brother away, and you inhale as much of the fresh summer air as you can. 

“alright, that’s enough,” she huffs, pulling you closer. “c’mon! we should unpack your stuff right away!”

“want me to carry it?” satoru asks, already eyeing your luggage like a predator about to lunge at his prey. even if you say no, you know he’s not going to listen. 

so you let him. and within the next few minutes, you’re seated on riko’s bed, suitcase on the floor, a glass of lemonade in your hand. blinking sluggishly. 

“are you sure you’ll be alright?”

you raise your head. your best friend is looking at you with a questioning glance, head tilted and brows furrowed. now you’re all alone, and it’s quiet, peaceful. her brother went out to buy snacks for you. all you can hear is the low buzz of the radio downstairs, and faraway waves. 

“huh?”

“i mean, with, y’know…” she moves her hands haphazardly, making some kind of gesture you don’t understand. “with my brother. and your… condition.”

you blink.

“… did you just refer to my crush as a condition?”

“well, it might as well be!” she groans, muffled, faceplanting onto the mattress. “don’t think i didn’t see you checking out his biceps just now. you’re so obvious.” 

heat rushes to your cheeks. you try to shoo it away with a furrow of your brows and a too-loud exhale, but it lingers underneath your skin. “look — i —“ you scramble for the right words, brain tied up into fatigued knots. “did you see that shirt? is he buying them a size too small, or what?”

“oh, come on! that’s all it takes?”

another pair of exhales. you cross your legs, and she rolls onto her back. the silence is comfortable, grounding, and all you can do is gnaw at your bottom lip until she speaks up again.

“… you could really, really do better, you know?”

her voice is quiet, now. soft and sincere, delicate as a sheet of glass. you know she’s just looking out for you, that she doesn’t want you pining for a guy who’ll never return those feelings — she’s kind like that, always has been. you love her for it.

but…

“… i just like him.”

you take a tentative sip of your lemonade. sour and sweet. the cubes of ice clink against the glass, fresh condensation cooling down the tips of your fingers. her gaze lingers on your skin. it’s heavy, just like his.

you meet it with a sheepish smile, a little self-deprecating — but not embarrassed. she already knows all about your predicament. 

(you just like him. that’s all there is to it.)

and she pulls herself into a sitting position.

“i know, i know,” she finally sighs, slumping against you, cheek smushed over your shoulder. “just don’t give him more attention than me, ‘kay?”

you let out giggle. “well, duh.”

she gives you a sunny grin.

“okay, good.” 

you put the glass down on the windowsill beside you. just so you can stretch your arms out, falling backwards; a mountain of pillows cushioning your fall. a yawn spills past your lips, and riko sits up.

“wanna take a nap?” she tilts her head, dark locks framing her pretty blue eyes, deep as the sea. “that’s probably good. we’re going straight to the beach tomorrow, you know!”

“mm…” your eyes flutter shut, and you focus on that faraway sound. waves crashing against sand, the whistling of seagulls, the salty scent of the ocean. “that sounds nice.”

despite your exhaustion, you end up tossing and turning that night. not because of your best friend’s snores, or the feeling of a mattress you haven’t slept on in two years — but from the quiet sounds downstairs. glasses clinking, a chuckle here and there. the tv being turned on. tossing and turning from the knowledge that your childhood heartthrob, current heartthrob, is in the same house as you. a little older, a little less childish, even more charming than you remember him being.

you’re older, too. more mature, you like to think, even if the gain is small.

(maybe there’s a chance?)

shaking the thoughts from your head, mind still spinning along to the tune of his humming, you squeeze your eyes shut and try to fall asleep.

you’ll be okay.

okay, nevermind. you’re completely screwed.

“oh, there you are!”

satoru is already waiting up ahead when you step onto the beach, feeling the sand between your toes, a pleasantly cool breeze giving you respite from the sweltering heat.

the sun beats down on you, fervent sunlight warming the water up ahead, calm waves and a sparkling blue to match the hue of the sky; cobalts and ceruleans, melting together like watercolour on a canvas. people crowd around the food stands, shaved ice and churros and grilled fish, scents mingling together with the joyous chatter all around you. vibrant sensations, enough to excite but not to overwhelm. 

a picture-perfect summer day.

your heart tingles with something giddy, skipping happily as you follow riko’s lead; she’s wearing a cute bikini set, frilly and floral, hair styled into a pair of braided pigtails, kept together by her favorite scrunchies. leading you towards her older brother, waiting patiently, having already grabbed a nice spot for you. a parasol, a blanket, a picnic basket. you see bottles of pink lemonade, wrapped sandwiches, strawberries in a plastic container.

more than anything, you see him. you see him, and realize just how screwed you are.

he’s smiling, when you approach. as always. hair tousled by the ocean breeze, blue eyes gleaming with mirth, exposed by the sunglasses close to slipping down the bridge of his nose. he’s wearing a hawaiian shirt, black in colour, white floral patterns to tie it all together. just unbuttoned enough to show off his collarbone, a sliver of his chest, the short sleeves exposing his biceps; patches of pale skin, shining with the beginnings of sweat. 

(you’re about to fucking explode.)

as soon as you’re in sight, satoru lights up, aiming the flash of his phone in your direction. his other hand stays tucked into the pocket of his shorts. “aw, look at you two!” he coos, grinning brightly, teasing and sweet. “pose for the camera, okay?”

you’re still too hypnotized to react, but riko scurries ahead, ready to steal it from his grasp.

“no pictures!”

“oh, don’t be like that!” he takes a step back, dodging her attack by a hair, still wearing the same grin. “you’re gonna thank me ten years from now, trust me. it’s for the memories!”

a new voice spills into the air, suddenly, and you’re brought back into reality. it’s silky and low, smooth and nice, honeysuckle nectar turned into sound. interrupting the siblings.

“it’s been ten seconds. how are you already bickering?” 

you turn towards its source, and spot a familiar face — right next to satoru. were you seriously too mesmerized to notice him? black hair, another hawaiian shirt, slightly lidded eyes… 

suguru. 

he meets your surprised stare with a relaxed smile, and takes a step forward; meeting you for a quick hug. he looks the same as he did when you were younger, odd bangs, hair tied up into a bun.

“hi there,” he hums, right by your ear, a light squeeze before he lets go. “it’s been a while.”

you part your lips, smiling through your words. a little stunned. “i didn’t know you’d be here too!”

he chuckles, a light shrug of his shoulders. “me neither. satoru called me last night and asked me to drop by... i had time to kill.”

“you missed me.”

a dubious look. suguru gives a lazy roll of his eyes, avoiding the smug voice to his right. “i saw you last week,” he tuts, an unimpressed expression on his face. “how could i miss you?”

“do you need a reason to miss your best friend?” he shakes his head, slowly, side to side. white locks swaying back and forth. “awful. just awful.”

you stifle a smile, completely unsuccessful. the sun feels nice on your skin, and the scent of the sea is nostalgic, and they’re all the same as ever. it’s like you can feel your nerves melting away, slowly but surely, like grains of sand slipping through the gaps between your fingers. 

“the matching shirts are cute,” you point out, wanting to partake in the conversation, only to be met with a pair of furrowed brows.

suguru sighs. “that…” he mutters, massaging his temple, not before shooting satoru a dirty glance. “wasn't planned.”

said man only grins, unperturbed, tucking his phone back into his pocket. thoroughly amused. “he’s mad that i stole his fit,” he chirps, stretching his arms idly. it makes his shirt ride up, ever so slightly, and you swallow a gulp.

“well… you look good in it.”

at that, satoru stills. gazing at you, silently, before breaking out into another grin. self-satisfied, a smooth curve, sunlight against the white of his teeth. you glance away, suddenly a little shy.

“does he?” the other two deadpan, completely in sync. it shoos away the smile on his lips, making way for a displeased frown.

“oh, come on. would it kill you to call me handsome now and then?”

“handsome?” riko places her hands on her hips, raising an unimpressed brow, a sassy lilt to her voice. “you look like a single father down on his luck.”

“seconded,” suguru quips, hiding the beginnings of a smirk. picking at a piece of lint on his shirt. “honestly, i’m surprised you’re wearing any layers at all. not gonna flaunt your abs this time?”

satoru brightens, suddenly. wiggling his brows, a sweet coo on the tip of his tongue. “oh? want me to loosen up a couple buttons?” he purrs, and you hate yourself a little for the instant yes that resounds through your mind. “you know you can always just ask, suguru.”

his teasing goes ignored, but you don’t miss the amusement that flits through the scope of suguru’s eyes, even as he tries to maintain that deadpan expression.

finally, he exhales. “well, see you later,” he hums, directed to you and riko, checking the time on his wristwatch. “i should probably get going.”

“you’re not staying?” you ask, lashes fluttering with a confused blink. he smiles.

“i am,” he reassures you. “just gonna go fishing for a while. i thought i’d give it a try.”

“fishing?” riko exclaims, covering her amused grin with the palm of her hand. stifling laughter, you can tell, a bout of giggles begging to push past her lips. “what are you, fifty?”

satoru lets out a snort. to his left, suguru goes eerily silent — ominous, staring into your best friend’s eyes with no visible emotion. enough to make her smile fall. you feel a sense of deja vu.

“wait, i’m just kidding!” she suddenly squeaks, clinging to your arm and hiding behind you. she’s always had good survival instincts. ”don’t put me in a headlock!”

(they’re so stupid. 

gosh, you missed them.)

“oh, by the way — do you want some shaved ice?” she turns to you, eyes crinkled at the edges, voice syrupy and sweet. “i can go get us some. what flavour do you want?”

“ah, great idea!” satoru matches her tone, tongue flitting out to lick his lips, glossy with chapstick. “i was just craving something sweet.”

“you’re paying, by the way.”

“…”

“so? any preference?” she tilts her head, waiting patiently for your reply. smiling once she gets it. “alright, got it. you, suguru?”

“i’m good. thanks, though.”

“okie-dokie,” she puts her palm out, facing satoru. “money, please.”

he only tuts, digging through his pocket and pulling out a black wallet. you think you spot a photocard, but he’s pulled out a credit card and tucked it back into his pocket before you can get a closer look. 

“get me watermelon, okay? strawberry is fine too. if push comes to shove, go for anything other than lemon.” he hands her the card with a click of his tongue. “and watch out for creeps. if anyone hits on you, you know where to aim.”

she pockets it with a huff, exasperation on her features. “i’m twenty-three, toru. i can take care of myself.”

“aww, don’t be like that,” he coos, hands reaching out to squish her cheeks. she tries to squirm away, to no avail. “you’ll always be my little baby sister, you know. and, as your dependable big bro, i —“

“ugh, whatever.” she shoots him an unimpressed glance, finally escaping his hold. ”are you gonna go all men are wolves on us, or something?”

”they are! just look at suguru.”

”hey.”

you hide a growing smile behind your hand, watching them bicker and banter, feeling that sense of peace again. the summer day feels a little like a hazy daydream, a heavy nostalgia that sticks to your bones like gum on the sole of your shoe. 

and, once again — you end up alone with a certain someone. suguru walks towards the faraway pier, riko strolls up to the stand selling shaved ice, and satoru lingers behind. you think he looks relaxed, at ease, but you can’t really look at him for too long without feeling nervous. without feeling as if you’re both ignoring the elephant in the room. 

it still feels a little like there’s an invisible wall between you.

he’s the first to speak up, craning his neck and stretching like a big cat, a tiny groan flowing from his throat. “well, there they go,” he hums. “what do you feel like doing first?”

“ummm…” you rack your brain for ideas, coming up empty. a little fried by his presence. you could go into the water, and escape the heat — sunbathing with him doesn’t sound so bad, though…

lost deep in thought, you barely notice him inching closer. still weighing your options, water or land, a relaxing nap or a splash war. you don’t notice until you feel his arm sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer, just by a hair. stealing all the oxygen from your lungs.

(you think your brain shuts down a little.)

his touch burns, as always. bare skin on bare skin. electric, a trail of sparks rushing through your veins. he’s warm, and solid, effortlessly composed — guiding you right where he wants you, which is by his chest, where you can practically hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat —

and then he’s pulling away.

you raise your head to meet his gaze, completely flushed, unsure if you were hallucinating or not. he’s looking somewhere behind you, with a distinctly cold gaze, one you aren’t accustomed to seeing. you crane your neck, catching a glimpse of a man turning his back on you both before walking away.

… was he staring at you, or what?

when you search for satoru’s eyes again, they’re already on you. he’s smiling, a little sheepish, scratching at the back of his neck.

“sorry,” he chuckles. “i got paranoid.”

oh.

your skin still feels like it’s on fire. a lingering heat, blossoming where his skin touched yours, rendering you speechless. embarrassing, embarrassing, embarrassing. he was just looking out for you.

finally, you gain control over your vocal chords, dry and charred. just enough to croak out a response.

“i — it’s fine.”

your eyes stay glued to the sand beneath you, staring at a crushed seashell, unable to look him in the eye. feeling the back of your neck grow hotter. you miss the dirty glance riko sends his way, having just returned with the shaved ice, and the way satoru mouths out a silent what?

it’s easier after that. she grounds you, a little, leading you out into the sea. the water is pleasantly mild, licking at your ankles, coaxing you further, until it’s reaching up to your waist. it cools you down considerably, and before you know it you’re splashing her with all you’ve got, giggles filling the salty air — seagull cries above you and wet sand beneath your feet, a glimmer or two of tiny fish, loud laughter. sensations all around you. satoru watches you with a smile, munching on a sandwich, not joining you both until riko beckons him over.

the day stretches on, melting away into evening. people leave the beach behind them, suguru heads back to the house with a bucket of fish and a smug smile, riko dries herself off with a towel and rushes to a nearby convenience store when she notices that it’s about to close. murmuring something about dinner, shooting you an anxious glance, a silent will you be alright on your own? with him? 

you wave her off with a smile. hoping it’ll come off as convincing, even though you’re anything but.

one way or another, you end up under a parasol with a certain satoru gojo; putting empty bottles of lemonade back into the picnic basket, rolling up the blanket, stuck with cleaning duty. satoru carries it all, unwilling to let you help, the basket hanging off his arm. you walk away from the beach, stepping onto solid asphalt again, beginning your trekk up towards the main street — not too long of a walk, but you’re tired, even though satoru doesn’t seem tuckered out in the slightest. walking a step or two ahead of you.

the sun is beginning to set, melting like a sundae on the boundary of the horizon, rays of golden sunshine dripping down your wrist. satoru looks good in it, the pink and orange; peaceful, somehow. when the breeze licks a stripe across his cheek, he closes his eyes and exhales. there’s a smile on those lips, a smile of contentment.

he turns towards you and waits until you catch up.

“tired?” he coos, tilting his head, absently tucking his shades into the breast pocket of his shirt. blinking slowly, eyes shimmering in the summery hue of evening. 

“kinda,” you smile, trying to muster a pep in your step. another hum buzzes in his throat, and then he’s facing forward again.

“c’mon. let’s get you something from the vending machine, okay? ‘s just up ahead.” he pats your head, once, twice. “that’ll give you some energy.”

you can only nod, following his lead. hydrangeas bloom all around you, a thick syrupy scent, paired with apple blossoms from the backyards you pass. then you spot the vending machine. satoru takes out his wallet, finding his card — it’s not the same one as before. riko still has it.

and this time, you’re close enough to see it. in his wallet is a photocard, clearly visible; of a baby, sleeping soundly, with short tufts of hair. a dark colour unlike his own.

(your heart melts, a little.)

“cola or sprite?”

you raise your head, looking through the barrier of glass in front of you. then you’re stepping forward, fingertip pressing against it, pointing towards a green can of sprite. not looking at him, as you make your choice. ”this one.”

— suddenly, you feel his skin on yours.

you’re sleepy, and pliant, jaw caught between his fingers. he lifts it up, turns it towards him, just so that you’ll meet his gaze. two seas of blue, flecks of pure white, summer skies and summer clouds.

“there,” he exhales, pleased. giving you a reassuring smile before pulling away. “you’ve barely looked me in the eye today. ‘s gonna break my heart, y’know.”

a pause. you gulp, on instinct, shying away from his unbridled attention — eyes moving from those summer skies down to the curve of his glossy lips, and then back up again. a mistake, because when you glance down once more — unable to help yourself — you see it.

that apologetic smile.

(you really are obvious, aren’t you?

how embarrassing.)

silence splits the scene in half, only the faraway sounds of seagulls as background noise. they sound a little like they’re laughing, mocking you.

satoru presses a button on the vending machine, followed by a quiet beep. he doesn’t look at you when he broaches the subject, and you wonder if it’s out of respect or discomfort.

“still not over that schoolgirl crush, huh?”

…

something twists inside your gut. a little ugly, a little sentimental. now that he’s made the first move, it’s easier to move the pieces.

“… it’s not a crush,” you murmur, kicking at a pebble on the ground. surprised by how clear your voice comes out. “i’m in love with you.”

a sigh. another beep, and the sound of a sodacan falling against metal flooring. he crouches down.

“… you could really, really do better.”

you watch as he fumbles with the pick-up box, eyes trained on the back of his neck, the buzzed hair of his undercut. letting out a quiet breath. “riko said the same thing.”

a snort pushes past his lips, ripe with fondness. he pulls himself up from the ground, shifting his weight from one foot to another, reaching for his wallet again. “oh, i’m sure.” he tucks the card back, slipping it into his pocket. a stray cat strolls by you, unburdened, waving its tail in the air. “really, though. you should listen to her.”

something cold meets your cheek. metal, condensation, a pleasant shiver down your spine. he presses the aluminium can against you, and you receive it with a murmur of thanks.

“i’m too old for you, for one.” he continues, and suddenly you feel a little like you’re being lectured. you break open the lid of the sprite can.

“you’re five years older.” a fizzy sound crackles like static in your ears, carbonation bubbling up, sticking to your fingertips. “and we’re both adults.”

he huffs out a breath, only mildly amused. “i’m pushing thirty, y’know?”

you take a sip, lips against cold aluminum, melting sunrays lapping at your skin. it tastes sweet. 

“i know.” a pause, your bottom lip trapped between two sharp teeth. gnawing at the flesh. ”i can’t control how i feel, though.”

…

“yeah,” he sighs, leaning back against the glass. crossing one leg over the other, fiddling with something in his pocket. “i know.”

a moment passes. then he parts his lips, again.

“hey, how about you join me on a mixer someday?” he searches for your gaze, smiling, another one of those charming tilts of his head. “i know some cute guys. and girls, if that’s your thing.”

your answer is instantaneous.

“i’ll pass.”

…

another exhale, breathed out into the summer air. it’s dripping with exasperation, ripe with fatigue, but there’s still something fond there. unmistakable.

“fine, fine. just… think about it, okay?” his palm finds its way to your head, ruffling your hair with a gentle caress. that comforting weight. “c’mon, let’s go back. riri’s making dinner tonight.”

and then he’s taking a step forward. you watch his back for only a moment, still deep in thought. a fizzy, syrupy sweetness sticking to your teeth, a sense of nostalgia invading all your senses. and, as always, that silent adoration.

deep down, you know it’s true. there’s no changing this, whatever this is. in the same way riko will always be his baby sister, you’ll always just be the brat that sniffled into his chest after your first fight with her. 

he’ll never quite see you the way you’d like him to.

(but, then again, isn’t that a part of it? that subtle, subtle kindness of his. the sense of maturity that asks for nothing in return.)

satoru is a good guy. that’s why you can’t help but adore him, despite everything. can’t help but watch his back as he leaves you behind, wishing you could catch up. that your legs were long enough.

it feels nice, to open yourself up like this. crack the lid of your heart, and have him wade through the carbonation. it feels nice to have your feelings be acknowledged, even if they aren’t reciprocated, even if you’re completely delusional and high on summer joy. it feels nice just to watch him shine.

you gulp down the rest of your sprite, toss it into a trash can across the street, and stumble after him. veins sleepy, heart heavy, overwhelmed by adoration. you’ve already cracked the lid open; everything else comes easy. you just want to make a move, any move. want to see how he’ll react.

“satoru,” you call, and he comes to a standstill. when he turns around your arms are outstretched. “can i have a piggyback ride?”

the man before you blinks. once, then twice, fluttering like angel wings, or pretty clouds. 

and then his smile grows. you catch a glimpse of his dimples, for just a moment, and then he’s beckoning you closer with a chuckle.

“yeah? now you’re suddenly all brave?” he shakes his head, no real discontentment behind it. “or are you really that exhausted?”

he studies you intently, ripe with fondness, and you think your sluggish blinks must be enough to convince him. because he crouches down, back facing you, and chirps out a hop on. a little teasing, of course, but still nice. his arms underneath your thighs, lifting you up like it’s nothing. making sure you’re comfortable. he’s strong. very strong.

the butterflies in your stomach flutter around again.

and, honestly, you really are very exhausted. bones buzzing with something sleepy and fatigued, sore after all the running around you did in the water. completely tuckered out, resting your cheek against his back. like this, you can feel his muscles, the solidity of his body. it’s a little bit distracting.

“— remember?”

a series of blinks. you grasp onto his shoulders, holding back a yawn. “huh?”

“you falling asleep on me?” he chuckles, walking forward. one step after another, the soles of his sandals hitting the asphalt. “i was saying — how i remember doing this back then.”

you tilt your head.

“when you fell and twisted your ankle. i think it was nearby, actually… some park?”

“... oh.” when you really concentrate, you think you do recall it; the feeling of his back against your chest, a dull ache in your foot. “yeah, i remember.”

satoru hums, a little buzz of amusement. “after that, you and riri would ask me for it all the time. carry us, big bro!” his imitation makes you smile, voice high and squeaky. “so childish, i swear. i could barely carry one of you.”

a chuckle tumbles from your lips, and it seems to spur him on; because he continues. nostalgia pouring out his throat.

“don’t tell her, okay? but, see — i started going to the gym after that. lifting weights. training, and stuff,” he huffs out an amused exhale, grinning softly. “suguru made me carry boulders on the beach. it was kind of our thing.”

…

“we almost got arrested once.”

you can’t help but laugh, hiding in the smooth fabric of his shirt, in between those printed white flowers. shoulders shaking slightly, giddy and amused. “you did that just ��cause you were embarrassed?”

“no,” he murmurs, softly, the slightest shake of his head. ”because i wanted to be prepared. in case the two of you ever happened to fall over at the same time, or something…” a sheepish little chuckle. ”i wanted to be able to carry you both back.”

satoru continues to walk, facing away from you. always smiling, you’re sure. even if you can’t see it.

“you’re both precious to me,” he says, making sure to keep a steady hold around your legs. “that’s why i don’t want either of you wasting yourselves on some random guy. i hope you can understand that.”

silence. then, a displeased huff.

“… you’re not some random guy, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“well, of course not. i’m the guy,” he stands a little straighter, and you can practically see the smug smirk on his lips. “but i’m not a very good person.”

you blink.

silence fills the open air.

he says it so casually that you almost don't catch it. matter-of-factly, like it’s just another obvious realization, something so deeply ingrained that it isn’t even worthy of a tonal shift. satoru, who makes pancakes for the people he loves, who carries your bags and buys you soda and keeps a picture of his baby sister in his wallet. satoru, your first love.

that satoru isn’t a good person?

(how could he ever, ever think that?)

“you are.”

a low hum buzzes in his throat. you’re not sure he heard you. if he did, he simply doesn’t care enough to respond. the scene flickers by, the moment comes and goes — you want to protest again, but something about this silence makes you hesitate.

the only thing you can do is —

“satoru.”

another little hum. acknowledging, this time. 

“do you… i mean,” you choke down a bundle of words, replacing them with new ones. gnawing at the flesh of your bottom lip. “is there really no chance… you’ll ever feel the same? none at all?”

…

a mirthless chuckle. he sounds a little tired, you think, more than a little exasperated. but the amusement is still there, laced into his voice, and you drink it in the same way you’ve always done. a little root, soaking in the light of the sun.

“after all that,” he mutters, “you’re still asking?”

a moment’s pause. you listen intently, as if you could hear the gears of his mind shift if you focus enough. as if just being stubborn enough could coax him into opening up the way you have. 

finally, he parts his lips.

“well,” comes a sigh, a click of his tongue. he breathes in the summer breeze. “maybe in a couple decades or so.”

you stare. those white tufts of hair sway with every step he takes, and his voice has a finality to it that isn’t lost on you. solemn, steady, a pillar of salt.

“… okay.”

a pause. then he’s barking out a short laugh, shoulders shaking with the sound. you tighten your grip around them. “okay?” he repeats, pinching the skin of your thigh. “can’t you read between the lines, you little troublemaker?”

a huff. you kick your legs, a little, just stretching them contentedly. wet hair sticking to his skin, your cheek still smushed against him, enveloped in his neverending warmth. “i don’t mind,” you whisper, choking down a yawn. “i’ve already waited eight years. a couple decades more isn’t too bad.”

silence, again. you wonder what he’s thinking, if you’ll ever come close to cracking open the lid of his heart. he parts his lips, and oxygen spills out.

(you think it’s a start.)

“… has anyone ever told you that you’re awfully stubborn?”

you’re quick to nod, nuzzling into his undercut. wearing a satisfied smile. “riko tells me all the time.”

“does she?” there’s silent laughter hiding between his teeth, eager to spill out. “that’s good. listen to her, alright? you might learn a thing or two.”

now he’s just teasing you. the sun is setting, and the air smells like saltwater, and satoru’s back is warm; his voice set to a melodic lilt, as if tempting you to close your eyes. it’s summer, in a quiet port town.

and you adore him again. 

that’s right, you muse, belatedly. loving him was never a choice, and waiting wasn’t ever an issue. getting over him is the tall hurdle, the root of the problem, a root you intend you trip over as many times as it takes for this something to bloom.

because he’s beautiful, and comfortable, and kind. because it’s his back you always end up clinging to. because he knows how you like your pancakes, how you take your coffee, what you look like when you cry. because you like this feeling, the swarm of butterflies in your stomach. even if they’re completely meaningless in the long run.

satoru is right, and so is riko. you’re stubborn, terribly so. if only you could see that as a bad thing.

if only you were physically capable of giving this something up.

unlike the siblings and their overgrown yard, you just can’t seem to look away from an ugly bud yet to bloom — just in case it ends up blossoming, this summer, or the next. just in case it turns into something worth plucking from the ground. it’s fine if it withers away; at least it’ll give way to better soil.

you just like him. you just want to see where it leads you. that’s all, that’s it. that was always it.

“but promise you’ll go with me to that mixer, okay?” his voice calls, breaking you out of your thoughts, unrelenting. ”i’ll find you someone who’ll get your mind off little ol’ me.”

ah. that’s right. 

(you’re terribly, horribly stubborn —

and satoru is too.)

you grin, soft and giddy, thinking of the years ahead of you both. what they’ll be like. where’s the fun in a certain future?

“fine,” you hum, wrapping your arms around his neck. inhaling that familiar scent of sandalwood. “do your worst.”

[nmyphomania]

╰┈➤ ❝ [Kinktober Day 20: Dumbification]

Summary: “A dumb, but very beautiful. An oddly likable combination to take full advantage of.”

Warning(s): F! Reader, degradation, daddy kink, breeding, choking, mouth spitting, rough sex, unsafe sex, slapping, p*ssy spanking, squirting peeing, dub-con if you squint, belly swells, creampie, dick imprints, doggystyle, lift-fuck position, cervix kissing, overall messy

WC: 1.1k+

•𑁍•

Nothing, absolutely nothing came to mind in moments like these. Each time he’d ask you to legitimately ponder and properly answer a question or statement of his, all you’d do is shrug as if it hurt to think for too long. It honestly irked Zuko, but he knew you for far too long to ever really be mad at you, you were just there with nothing behind those eyes. Sparkling mindlessly, sitting there in the background only to look pretty and prim. Not a real woman of intellect, or talent, or no knowledge on anything of importance, just a trophy withholding the blessings of genuine beauty.

It was like you wanted to be presented as just a prop to be knocked up and spoiled, even shown off like a prize, you held little regard for anything but those things and it showed. So of course the only real special part about having you to Zuko happened to be the way you fucked him. You knew of nothing else, just sex on your mind all of the time, you’d cry about wanting your pussy beaten to a pulp until you fell asleep. He’d only roll his eyes at your begging and give you exactly just that.

Yes, he treated you like a princess who descended down from the heavens, but he’d dick you down like a ragdoll in an instant.

Great, you pissed him off during an outing involving some very significant persons, he couldn’t act on your behavior immediately because it’d taint his professional demeanor as the firelord. Anger wasn’t the only thing that bubbled up inside of him; however, watching your hips rock side to side and your ass bounce about as you walked off from the dining room made him taste a bitter tinge at the back of his tongue. He caught himself staring as you stormed out of the room, swirling around his wine in his glass, he simply moved his view over to the other side of the table in discrete frustration. It was best to deal with his guests first, then you, later.

The two of you left no room for discussion once he’d closed the room’s door behind himself. Your fate was set in stone as Zuko lashed an aggressive hand to slam your neck down into the firm bed mattress, his sour attitude very evident in his eyes. Your clothes now stripped almost animalistically from your disposable body, shoving one of his knees against your already dripping pussy to urge you further up on the bed.

“Fucking filthy, is that all you fucking think about?”

He stood by his words seriously when he meant he would hurt you if you dragged him off to that point. Spanking your pussy just to make you cry into this situation you got yourself in, and he was nowhere near to the worst part of hurting you. You genuinely wouldn’t know what pain was until he had your face squished up on the headboard, recklessly being beaten into it from each time he’d collide back into your gasping entrance. Snot, tears, and drool smeared over the expanse of that same beautiful face he proudly showed off to others and the world.

No matter what came out of your mouth, your wails were like music to his ears. Your throat audibly sounded like your vocal chords were being torn from your neck and shoved up your ass along with his dick. Zuko’s hand locking your neck to stay put on the headboard so you’d choke and cry over your words, his name, those meaningless thoughts. Pulling your head back by your neck urged you to gasp in exaggeration to breathe in some much needed air, a wad of his spit rolling off of his tongue into the confines of your hot mouth. Your hips popped with every stroke that hammered down your insides, making your body jerk around involuntarily accompanied by pained screams.

“You’ll behave yourself next time right?” Zuko lulled gently in her ear amidst vigorous rhythm his hips kept at, all she could really do was barely turn her head to the side through warm tears and keen out an indistinguishable noise. His eyebrows furrowed, hinting his lips to form into a light frown. Sobbing from the quick stinging aftershock from the slap he brought down on the side of your face, you collapsed over to cry like some pitiful child.

“I asked you a question, m'love. Answer me.”

Eyes snapping open as far as they could go, you were left dumbfounded from him pressing down your front to force your lower half to stand up taller in the air for him to drill out a mold only his dick could fill up perfectly. Resting his pure strength on top of your, practically made you pee yourself all over the bed and him. Your mind blurred into a mess of cock drunkeness, nothing but him pounding in and out of your convulsing body like something that was so petty it was horrendous.

“Agni yes, Zuko! Please m’so full!”

Zuko settled a large hand to lay over your smooth stomach, the imprint of his thick shaft ricocheting through your gummy interior past those drooling lips suctioning around him. The bed moved along with the couple on top crashing loudly against the thick walls of the room, the intermingling noises of relentless skin spanking into more skin caused the room to rise in temperature. The air growing hellishly sticky and humid through you two fucking each other like your lives depended on it, Zuko’s long hair clung messily over his condensing sweat accumulating over his entire body.

“Daddy, I can’t take any more!” She screamed in protest, trying to shove him off from her body.

“Oh but you can though. Don’t lie to me.” He remarked almost sarcastically, it burned your entire being at his persistent words.

And suddenly you were lifted up from the bed to be satiated in the air, splashing your warm juices to fly over the floor and your bodies. Over the course of the hours Zuko put into punishing and making a snotty slut out of you for the night, he filled you up to the brim and beyond with his white-hot cum. After the final, messy round to wrap up that night, he laid you down on the bed to press down on your swollen tight abdomen. He adored the sight of your body quaking like you’d just seen hell up close, his seed spilling out from your body like a testament to your dedication to being used, knocked up, and being worthless to everything but to sex.

A dumb, but very beautiful slut. An oddly likable combination to take full advantage of.

•𑁍•

Tags:

[winchester-books]

This Isn’t What it Looks Like

Based on- OBX

characters- jj x reader (john b’s sister)

warnings- language, suggestive themes

w/c- 500

summary- john b accidentally traumatizes himself when he walks in on jj and his sister doing what he thinks is the “deed” but is really nothing of the sorts.

You opened your eyes once again, glaring at the ceiling as JJ’s alarm rang in your ears from the room next door. You grabbed your phone to check the time, anger only growing when it read 6:00am.

Never in your life had you seen JJ Maybank up and moving before 9.

You ripped the covers off, goosebumps rising on your legs from the cool air. “JJ, Maybank I am going to kill you,” you grumbled, storming into the chateau’s guest room which your brother’s best friend had claimed as his own.

“JJ!” You reached forward and shook him when you got no reply. Immediately, you were met with him swatting your hand away with a groan. You repeated yourself, only for him to yank the covers over his head and roll over.

You snatched his phone, silencing the alarm that was still ringing. No way in hell you were gonna let him sleep through the morning after his alarm had ripped you from yours.

JJ let out a yelp as you seized the pillow out from under his head and smacked it down onto his head. He jolted up, eyes narrowing as he realized you were the culprit, “Y/N! What the hell?!”

Before you could reply he was taking hold of the pillow and hitting you back.

“You’re the one who set an alarm for the ass crack of dawn!” You shot back, dodging his blows as best you could. You stepped towards the door to make your escape, but not fast enough. JJ grabbed your arm, pulling you into his bed with him.

After taking a few more hits, you managed to get on top of him, grabbing the pillow back and laughing as you smacked it down onto his face. Your success was short lived though, he quickly got ahold of your shoulders and rolled you beneath him, grinning as he did so.

“Not so funny now, huh?” He mocked, regaining control of the pillow and landing it to your face. You tried to shove him off, but had no luck as he kept you pinned to the mattress.

“God, it’s literally six in the morning could you guys please keep it down-” John B cut himself off, no longer half asleep as he stood in the doorway and caught a glimpse of what didn’t look so innocent, “Shit- gross, ugh!” He stumbled over his words almost as much as his feet as he backed out, dragging the door closed as he did so, “At least close the door- JESUS!”

JJ dropped his head down in silent laughter as your eyes grew wide at your brother’s insinuation, “John B, hold on! It’s not like that- this isn’t what it looks like!”

He didn’t seem to be listening, you could here bits and pieces of him rambling to Sarah who was probably just trying to sleep in his room.

JJ finally rolled off of you, plopping down next to you in bed.

“There’s no way that just happened,” you groaned, covering your reddened face with your hand.

JJ chuckled again, “And to think of all the times he hasn’t caught us…” he smirked. “Of course he thinks something’s up the one time we aren’t doing anything,”

You rolled your eyes, lightly smacking him. “This is mortifying. We weren’t even-” you sighed as you trailed off, beyond embarrassed.

You turned to look at JJ as you felt him reposition himself in the bed, now on his side with his hand on his chin as he looked at you. He rose his eyebrows, shrugging slightly, “I mean, if the cats out of the bag… might as well take advantage of it,”

You rolled your eyes, but found yourself smiling as you looked at the blonde boy. He leaned over, lips pressing to yours as he pulled your body closer to his by your hips.

“If he thought we were loud before, he’s about to be pissed,” JJ joked, rolling himself back on top of you.

[alotofpockets]

Christmas plans | Katie McCabe

Pairing: Katie McCabe x Arsenal!Reader

Prompts: "Is that a hickey?"

Warnings: Mention of reader not having a good relationship with their family, small mention of anxiety.

A/n: Despite the prompt and the warnings, this is overall just a very fluffy fic!

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 2.8k

All around you your teammates were sharing their Christmas plans. You were stretching before training, and the conversation about winter break came up, and everyone was excitedly sharing their plans to visit their families. You dreaded the moment you would be asked about your plans, because opposed to all their excited plans with family, you had no plans of your own. The reason you weren’t going to visit your family during the holidays is because you don’t have a good relationship with them. Since you were still rather new at Arsenal, not many of your teammates knew about this part of your life, though.

Inevitably the question was thrown your way by Lia. Your long time Ireland teammate, and best friend, noticed the panicked look in your eyes, and answered before you had the chance to. “Y/n, is joining me for Christmas. We’re going to stay with my family for a couple days.” You were grateful that the conversation continued after Katie’s response. You had known Katie for years, having met at the U17 team, she had been there for you almost every time that something surrounding your parents had happened.

After training you’re the last one in the dressing room with Katie, the perfect moment to thank Katie for her cover up. “Of course, anytime. You should actually come though.” With a furrowed brow you look back at her. “Oh no, it’s fine. I can just stay home. It’s a family holiday, I don’t want to intrude.” Katie packs the last of her stuff into her backpack, “I think you've spent enough time at the house to be considered family.” It's true, you had spent a lot of nights staying at the McCabe's when things got bad with your parents. “Mom loves you more than she loves me anyways, I know she would love for you to join us. Plus, I think it would be really nice.” So, like that it was settled, you were joining the McCabe’s for Christmas.

Gary was there to pick you up from Dublin Airport. You greeted him with a quick hug, before putting both your own and Katie’s suitcase in the trunk, letting Katie have a moment with her dad. The drive to their place wasn't long, so in no time you were hugged by the rest of the McCabe family that was currently home. “It's so good to see you, Y/n! I'm glad you could join us for Christmas.” Katie's mom excitedly shares, making you feel welcome instantly. “I wasn't sure where you preferred to sleep, I can make up the couch, Gary can set up an air mattress, or I can ask one of the kids that won't come home until Christmas eve if you can take their room for the time being? I'm afraid that the guest room is currently occupied by quite a mess, as we've been renovating a bit.” Katie goes in to hug her mom as well. “Don't be silly, mom, we can just share my room.” She looks your way to see if you're okay with that too. “Yeah, I'm fine sharing with Katie. What have you been renovating?” You knew that Gary loved showing off what he was working on. Like you expected he excitedly asked you to follow him, as he was pointing to everything he was planning on fixing. You listened full of interest, always having loved listening to people talk about what they are passionate about.

Meanwhile in the living room Katie gets questioned by her sisters. “So, does Y/n joining us for Christmas mean you guys are finally together?” Ella starts. “Y/n's here because she's my best friend. Also, what do you mean finally?” Her brow furrows slightly. “Come on, you can't tell me you don't like her more than that.” Lauryn continues, clearly sharing the same thoughts about the two of you as Ella. In response Katie just rolls her eyes and walks away, joining her mom in the kitchen. Leaving a smirking Ella and Lauryn behind, “She didn't deny it.” The two of them share a look, “So, we're definitely going to try to get them together before Christmas right?” 

“Already done with your sisters? You only just got here.” Sharon jokes with her daughter. “They're meddlers, I did not come here for that.” Katie jokes back, as she sits down with her mom. “Not to meddle but-” Sharon laughs at the warning look Katie sends her way, “I always thought the two of you would make a lovely couple. I want you to find your own way, though, and of course I just want to see you happy.” Not a minute later you walk back into the room, deep in conversation with Gary. Katie takes the moment to pull you away, bringing your suitcases up to her room, and settling in.

It was already late, so you and Katie decided to call it a night, getting some well deserved rest after a busy few months. The next day you planned to go shopping with Katie, insisting on getting her family members presents of your own and not just sharing the ones that she had ordered to her parent’s home over the past couple of weeks. 

You weren’t the biggest fan of shopping when a holiday as big as Christmas was coming up, with all the busyness that came with it but you wanted to get them something nice since they were opening up their home for you. Katie noticed the slightly panicked look in your eyes as you entered the mall, and reached for your hand. You squeeze it appreciatively, before intertwining your fingers with hers. She guides you around the mall, entering all the stores you want to check out. Having Katie close by helped a lot with your anxiety, Katie always knew how to be there for you in any situation. 

When you got all the presents you wanted to get, the two of you settled in a little cafe. You were sipping on your hot chocolates, and watching the Christmas decorations around the mall, when two young girls walked up to you, accompanied by their mother. “Hi, we’re so sorry to interrupt but we were wondering if maybe my daughter's could take a picture with the both of you, they're big fans.”  Katie stood up and greeted them, “Yeah, of course you can.” She beamed. You stood up as well, giving each of the little girls a hug. The mom got ready to take the picture, as the girls moved to stand in between the two of you. Their wide smiles didn't falter when they stepped away. You took a moment to talk with the girls, before they went on their way again. The mom thanked you for making her girl's Christmases. Both you and Katie love meeting fans, the young ones especially, as it showed you that what you were doing was inspiring young children. 

On the way back Katie told you about one of the Christmas traditions her family had. “So, each year mum buys everyone a pair of Christmas pajamas, and we spend the evening watching Christmas movies.” You thought it was an adorable tradition. So much so that when you got back you had to fight to keep in your tears when Sharon let you know that she had placed pajamas for both you and Katie on Katie’s bed. You thanked Sharon before Katie pulled you towards her room, knowing how much you hated crying in front of people. Once in her room, you fall down on the bed. Katie sits down next to you, and you instantly reach for her touch by laying your head down in her lap. You let your tears flow freely, while she gently strokes your hair. “Do you want to talk about it?” Katie asks softly. “Just that your family is so loving, and they’re including me in all of it. I’m not used to that, and the difference is a lot. It’s really nice though, they’re making me feel very loved.” You lift yourself up from Katie’s lap, “Anyways, we should head down.” Katie shakes her head, pulls you into her side, and falls down onto her back, pulling you along with her. “They can wait for a little bit.” You try to protest but when Katie doesn’t give in, you relax into her. Your head now on her chest, as she continues to play with your hair. 

Once you feel ready to head downstairs, your eyes finally land on the pajamas that Sharon picked out. A pair of matching red flannel pants, along with two simple black t-shirts. You both change into the outfits quickly, before joining the festivities downstairs. The family pilled down in the living room, the table filled with snacks, and the first Christmas movie started playing on the TV. It doesn’t take long for you to snuggle into Katie, who instantly wraps her arm around you. The moment not going unnoticed by Ella and Lauryn, who share a knowing look.

The next morning you head downstairs in your matching Christmas pajamas for family breakfast. Today the family had plans to go to a nearby Christmas market, play some board games, and in the evening you and Katie were planning on going on a Christmas light walk. You had seen an ad for the event in the mall, and were very excited to go.

Right as you walk through the door post, Lauryn says, “Katie, what's that above you?” Katie looks up and you follow her gaze. You didn't see the warning look that Katie sent her sister's way. “Why is there a mistletoe?” Both Lauryn and Ella try to hide their giggles, while Ella says, “It's a Christmas tradition to kiss someone under the mistletoe, so I assume it is to spread the holiday joy.” with a slightly teasing tone. Katie looks back over to you, searching your face for what she should do. “We don't have to, if you don't want to.” You lock your eyes on Katie's, “I mean it's bad luck if we don't, right?” You joke back, sending her a smile and a nod, letting Katie know you're okay with it. Katie leans in and pecks your lips. “So, breakfast?” Katie says as she quickly turns around again, hiding her flushed cheeks from you.

Your morning and afternoon were jam-packed with family activities, and while you loved every part of it, your mind kept going back to Katie’s lips on yours. How soft they were, and how badly you wanted to kiss her again. Though, you had convinced yourself that for Katie the kiss was probably just for the tradition of it. You couldn't have been more wrong though, Katie badly wanted to talk to you about the kiss, but she hadn't been able to get you alone for a single moment today. 

The first moment the two of you were alone that day, was on the way to the Christmas light event. The car ride itself was quiet besides the radio softly playing in the background, both of your minds running at full speed. Katie parks the car, and right from the parking lot you could already see lights all around you. While you were slowly turning to take in all of the beautiful lights, Katie’s eyes were fixed on you. “What?” You say while a blush rushes to your cheeks, when you notice Katie’s eyes on you. The usual confidence of the girl in front of you, replaced by nervousness. “Nothing, it’s stupid.” She says trying to turn away but you grab her arm and pull her back around. “If you’re thinking about it, it’s not stupid.” You seemingly convinced her as she took a deep breath. “Would you have kissed me if we weren’t standing under a mistletoe?” The question takes you by surprise, as you had convinced yourself that it was just you lingering on the moment you had shared this morning. “Nevermind, forget I said anything.” Katie turns on her heels again, thinking she had her answer by the lack of your response. The action makes you jump into action, once again reaching for her arm. This time you don’t just use the pull to turn her around, you also use it to bring her closer to you. You lean in and connect your lips, smiling into the kiss, as you feel Katie kiss back. The feeling of her soft lips moving in sync with yours sent shivers down your body, while simultaneously making you feel warm inside. 

After you pull away from the kiss, you look at Katie and see the Christmas lights reflect in her eyes. “In case that didn’t answer your question properly, that meant yes.” You joke, making her laugh. She playfully pushes you away, before stepping besides you again to intertwine your hands. You spend the evening walking around the lit up city center, enjoying every moment together. 

You arrive back at Katie’s childhood home way past midnight, so the house is already quiet. She pulls you into the warmth of the home by your hand, only feeling you resist when you walk through the doorway to the living room. She follows your eyes up to the mistletoe under which you shared your first kiss. Katie takes a step back to stand in front of you, and wastes no time to connect your lips. The kiss started out soft and sweet, but quickly turned more passionate. Katie pulls away from the kiss breathlessly, “To be continued.” She says as she takes your hand once more and guides you to her room.

The next morning you wake up in Katie’s arms, a feeling you would like to never forget. “Good morning, beautiful.” Katie whispers as she places a kiss on your forehead. A wide smile forms on your face, “Good morning.” After sharing a few soft kisses, you get ready for family breakfast. The food each morning had been amazing, you were so excited for what Christmas would bring. 

Lauryn asked if both of you wanted to join her on the pitch that afternoon, which of course you agreed to. It might be winter break, but football was a passion you would always take a moment for. You had been on the pitch for about an hour, when Katie decided to take her jacket off. "Is that a hickey?" Lauryn said loud enough for the whole town to hear. Katie sends a panicked look your way, you shrug your shoulders, knowing there isn’t anything you can do now besides mouthing a sorry her way. Lauryn followed the interaction, her smile growing wider. “Oh my god, it so is! I gotta tell Ella that her mistletoe idea worked.” Katie chases after her youngest sister, tackling her to the ground before she could reach her phone. “You and Ella are a pair of meddlers.” She said, shaking her head, as she helped Lauryn up. “It worked didn’t it? Mum’s gonna love this.” You watched the interaction with a smile on your face, realizing that her whole family was rooting for the two of you together. 

On Christmas Eve the rest of the McCabe siblings, along with their partners and children joined you at the McCabe’s, and it wasn’t long before they all knew about you and Katie. You were nervous at first, not wanting the dynamic to change, but quite the opposite happened. They were happy for the both of you, and continued to treat you as family, like they had done the past couple of days. 

All in all it was a wonderful Christmas with her whole family, lots of presents, amazing food, and company from the loving family. Katie was watching you interact with her cousins with adoration in her eyes, she couldn’t wait to continue creating memories together. The family got together for a series of group pictures. You took a couple of the McCabe siblings, and some of them all together with their parents, as well as Sharon taking individual ones of each of her children with their partners, and kids if they had them. 

Katie later posted a collection with her favorite ones, along with the caption ‘Family time❤️🎄’. She added the picture Sharon took of the two of you, where you have your arms around her waist, as she places a kiss on your cheek. You posted the ones you were on to your own Instagram with the caption, ‘Thank you for the best Christmas ever❤️’. 

It didn’t take long for the Arsenal group chat to explode upon seeing your posts. You were laying in bed with Katie, scrolling through the loving messages your teammates were sending your way after Katie confirmed that the pictures indeed meant that you were her girlfriend. That night you went to bed feeling happier than you had ever felt. Truly a high to end the year on.

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for intentionally giving someone bedbugs?

So, a few years ago, I (17 at the time) got bedbugs. I'm still not sure where from because it was only me who had them. Maybe from visiting a friend's house, maybe from the hotel I went to for a convention, or maybe I was just unlucky and picked them up off someone in public. Regardless, I had bedbugs and was the only one in my house that did. Because of my relationship with my parents and a very intense fear of getting in trouble, I was convinced I'd be scolded for having them/seen as gross, so I didn't tell anyone I had them. I just killed them on sight and every other day used the vacuum on every side of my mattress.

Now, while this was happening, my parents were arranging for a family friend's daughter "K" (15 at the time) to move in with us. Her and I really didn't get along. She was generally rude to me, shittalked my little sister constantly. My friend had told her about something that happened between me and a family member where I was abused, something that I didn't tell the rest of our family, and K was threatening to tell them about it. The issue is this would cause a LOT of unrest and stress on my family that I thought would be worse than keeping the event a secret, so I told her not to. She said she wouldn't, and then went back on that and told my parents anyways. I barely managed to convince them she got it mixed up with something else that happened, and everything was mostly fine.

Anyways, point is, I REALLY did not like K. She was moving in with us because her parents are, frankly, terrible people and don't really take proper care of her. So, my parents wanted to give her a better environment for a little while. I wanted to give her a chance because I knew she didn't have the best background or anything, even if I didn't like her.

She got here and didn't have a bed get (we set up an air mattress and the plan was to get a new bed for me and give my old one to her since it was still a really good bed, but I was due for a new one because of growing). I was trying to figure out how to come clean about the bedbugs before the switch.

That is, until she started being a jerk while at our house. She was stealing from the fridge and then blaming it on me. She was lying to my parents and sneaking out. She was lying ABOUT me and my parents to hers, telling them and her friends that we were abusing and neglecting her. She cut the screen of the guest room window to sneak a boy into our house in the middle of the night. She refused to help me and my sister with chores, which got ALL of us into trouble when they didn't get done.

I don't know if it was just the cumulative stress of the situation, school, and the bedbugs or if I just really felt like being terrible, but I didn't tell anyone about the bedbugs.

Then, we put my old bed in the guest room, and I got a new bed after a while. She started getting bug bites and after maybe two weeks my parents found out about the bed bugs. We deep-cleaned the house and had to get rid of the whole bed set.

To this day, my family believes K brought the bedbugs because of her home situation. I have only told a few of my friends about this. In hindsight, I feel bad because bedbugs are terrible and I made it seem like she'd brought them herself. I'm conflicted because I generally feel guilty over lying about it, but I also feel a little justified for my little bit of revenge. AITA??

[itgetsdark-x]

I Wanna See You Beggin’ (Part 2)

Summary: Joel Miller is your dad’s best friend, you knew it was wrong, you knew it would only cause trouble but you couldn’t help the way you ached for the man. Disclaimers: (Title is from I Hate Myself for Loving You — Joan Jett & The Blackhearts) I do not own any of these characters / people but I did write these words, I don’t give permission for this to be copied anywhere else 😌

Characters: dbf!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni, pls), oral (m receiving)(pretty rough deep throating), face slapping (just once), mild choking, praise kink, age gap (reader mid twenties, Joel would be late 40s), use of the word ‘daddy’, minor angst / pining, no outbreak in this au. It’s just filthy smut… again lol

A/N: okay so y’all seemed to enjoy part one (read here if you haven’t done so yet!) , which by the way, I am totally blown away by, I appreciate all the likes and reblogs <3 I already have a third part near enough ready to go so if this is enjoyed again, I’ll for sure post it. Don’t forget, you can send me asks with any requests you may have for future fics / one shots 💕

You hissed under your breath as the early morning light pierced through the thin curtains and disrupted your peaceful slumber. You stretched out your limbs with a yawn and relished in the delicious ache in your thighs, it was a lasting reminder that last night actually happened and wasn’t a crazy sex dream. Your hand sleepily traced the mattress next to you and you felt cool sheets, panic rose like acid in your throat and you bolted up right in the unfamiliar bed. 

Joel. Where was Joel?

Great, he had probably gone out, wanting you to be gone by the time he was back; just wanting to avoid any further interaction with you. You got out of bed and quietly walked down the stairs, hugging Joel’s shirt around your waist for warmth. 

Your breath caught in your throat as you walked into the kitchen and saw Joel out on his patio, smoking a cigarette, a steaming mug of coffee on the table next to him. He was dressed in an old jumper, rips at the hem and loose joggers, he looked breathtaking; his hair dishevelled and messy and shoulders looking so broad as he rested against the wall. You turned and saw another mug on the countertop, maybe he did want you there after all. 

Joel took a long drag on his cigarette and exhaled the smoke, his breath lingering in the cool early morning air as he did so. He went to reach for his warm mug of coffee but caught a glimpse of you inside; there you were, still you but somehow different. His shirt looked perfect on you, especially when you pulled the fabric around you; he could see your perky nipples through the thin fabric and it made his mouth water. 

No. Not now, you both needed to sit down and actually talk about what happened last night. Joel was happy to draw a line in the sand and pretend it never happened, if that is what you wanted. It would kill him, seeing you without being able to have you again but he would do it, if you wanted to. 

“Mornin’,” he said as he opened the back door and stepped into the warm house, mug still in hand. “How’d you sleep, darlin’?” He asked, his voice raspy after his first cigarette of the day, sleep still thick in the air for you both. 

“Hi,” you said quietly. “Slept like a baby for a change.” You laughed dryly. “Is that for me?” You asked awkwardly, shrugging your head towards the hot mug on the countertop. 

He nodded and that’s all you needed before you picked up the mug and brought it up to your lips. You drank some of the smooth liquid and sighed contentedly as you felt the warmth spread through your throat and body. Just what you needed. 

You shuffled awkwardly on the spot, feet not knowing how to stand still. You would normally walk into Joel’s house and swan around like it were you own home but now you couldn’t help but feel like a guest, and an awkward one at that. You opened your mouth to speak when Joel’s phone rang loudly, making you jump slightly. 

The older male fished his phone out of his trouser pockets and hit answer. 

“Hey bud, whatcha doing today? Chilly out but looks like good weather for the rest of the day, thinking we could go out fishing or something?” You heard your dad through the phone and your throat tightened, shame rose in your body and you placed your mug on the counter shakily. 

“Hey, I - I uh, I’m not feeling too good today actually. Think that Chinese was a little funky last night.” Joel lied, glancing over to you. 

“Okay no worries, Miller. Will catch ya on Monday at work.” Your dad spoke. 

Joel was about to say his goodbyes and hastily hang up the phone when your dad spoke once more. 

“Hey, did you hear from Y/N last night once she was home? I know sometimes she’ll send me a message once she’s home safe. Just a bit worried, kiddo is a woman now but I still panic. Y’know?” Your dad rambled. 

“Nope. Not heard from her.” Joel lied once more and guilt spread throughout his whole body. He felt sick. “I’ll send her a message and tell her to quit worryin’ her dad! Maybe she just fell asleep.”

“Yeah yeah, that’s true. Thanks Joel, see you soon.” And with that, your dad had hung up the phone. 

Joel gently threw his phone gently onto the countertop and you couldn’t help but smile. 

“He never lets you say bye.” You giggled. “He’ll always say ‘I love you’ but never lets me respond before he hangs up. Old men and technology.” You winked. 

“You should text your dad.” Joel stated matter of factly. 

“Oh, um. Yeah. I think my phone is still in my car.” You said quietly, Joel’s coldness stinging you. 

“I’ll get it for you. Don’t need the neighbours seeing you flashing them this early in the mornin’.” He mumbled, giving your body a once over with your eyes and then that was it, he walked past you to go to your car out front. 

“Joel -,” you called and held your hand out to touch his arm but he walked on past you. 

You wanted to cry, the sudden coldness felt like such a harsh contrast to his previous warmth. You could still hear his laugh as he teased you last night, could still feel his warmth breath on your sensitive skin. You pressed a finger into your inner thighs and shivered at the dull ache you still felt in them, it was pure, visceral proof that the previous night had happened. 

Shakily, you hopped up into the seat at the kitchen countertop, your legs swaying as they searched for the bar to rest on. You had crossed your arms onto the cold marble and pressed your head into them, were you trying to hide, shrink or simply disappear? You weren’t one hundred percent sure but what you did know was you wanted to cry. Everything suddenly felt messier, your dad’s call clearly shook you both and it was frustrating that the little bubble the two of you had created was popped with one two minute phone call. You bit your lip as tears started to fill your vision, making it all blurry, you sniffed and when you heard the front door close softly you sat up and cleared your eyes with the back of your hand. 

Joel walked into the kitchen and slid your phone onto the countertop, avoiding eye contact with you. You sniffed and said a small ‘thanks’ with a shaky breath and he then looked at you with furrowed brows. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, a hand going to touch your arm comfortingly which was such a stark contrast to the coldness in his voice.

You pulled your arm away and stood down from the stool. You looked up at Joel and smiled weakly, in all truth, you wanted to be held by him. You wanted him to kiss you softly and promise that everything would work out fine but you didn’t quite believe that would be the case. 

“Oh, uh, nothing. I should, um, I should text dad and get going. Don’t wanna hang around like a bad rash or nothin’.” You spoke hurriedly and looked down at your phone. 

‘Miller said you were worried, sorry, pops. Was a long night. I love you :) xxx’ you punched the message into your phone and hit send, hoping with everything that your dad wouldn’t ring you, you weren’t ready to face him yet. He had no clue how you and Joel had potentially ruined the ten year friend that was shared. 

“Peach,” he whispered and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. The nickname sent warmth through you once again, it caused butterflies to erupt and for a quick throb to ripple through your core as you remembered your antics from last night. The way Joel had moaned your nickname as he tasted you on his fingers for the first time. “I mean,” he sighed again, searching for the right words. 

“Y/N,” he said dryly. There is was again. Hot, cold, hot, cold… He turned to face you and looked directly at your face, he could see the sadness settled in your very features, he hated it and he wanted to beat himself up for causing it. He shouldn’t, he knew he shouldn’t but his legs were moving without him even thinking and he was there, placing a kiss to your lips without another word. Hot.

You placed a hand on his broad chest and gently pushed away, you didn’t want to break the kiss. Of course you didn’t, why would you but you had been pulled pillar to post this morning already and you felt dizzy. 

“W-what do you want from me?” You hissed. “First it’s all darlin’ and how’d you sleep?” You mocked his Southern drawl as you spoke. “Then it’s all, your old man is worried. I’m gonna be a dick and ignore you. Then it’s _Peach_… Then my name, which by the way, you’ve not said seriously like that in years and now a kiss? You’re making me crazy here.” You ranted, your arms dramatically flailing as you spoke. “I said I was gonna go, get out of your hair. We don’t have to speak about this,” you gestured between the two of you. “Again. Don’t worry, Miller.” You spat and sure, maybe it was a little dramatic but he had pissed you off already and you had barely been awake for an hour. 

“Watch your tone.” Joel spoke calmly as he watched you huff and fold your arms. “Weren’t being such a brat last night darlin’, maybe you just need to be filled with my cock again. Get you all happy and drunk on my cock. Hm? That was you need, baby?” Somewhere during your rant, you had taken a step or two back but Joel had just closed that distance between you again. 

He hooked his finger and thumb under your chin so he could tilt your face up to look at him. You pouted and huffed once more, before re-folding your arms over your chest. 

“Fuck off, Joel.” You growled, your voice sharp and confident.

“I said.” Joel hissed out, his grip tightening on your chin to hold your stare. “Watch. Your. Tone.” His other hand went to the nape of your neck and grabbed a handful of hair at the base of your skull. He tugged it harshly causing your head to be held back roughly and you moaned, so pathetically and loud you actually felt ashamed. 

“Not so big and confident now, are you, little girl?” Joel chuckled sadistically. “Now. Are you gonna quit acting like a brat and let me cook you some food, I think we should talk over breakfast.” He said, releasing your hair and chin from his hands with a smirk. 

“I don’t have panties on,” you whined. “You’re warm and cosy and I don’t even have panties on. Where are mine, anyway?” You asked innocently, knowing full well that he had stuffed them into his jeans pocket last night. 

“Oh, those little black ones?” Joel smirked, looking in his fridge for ingredient for breakfast. “Yeah, I’ll be keeping hold of that for you. It was a mess.” Joel laughed as he grabbed eggs and bacon from the large fridge. “Top drawer in my bedroom.”

“Huh?” You asked, head cocked in confusion. 

“Clothes. Grab what you want, you can take a pair of my boxers, seems only fair. Tit for tat.” He said nonchalantly like it was all natural. 

You rolled your eyes and ran upstairs to grab yourself one of Joel’s old hoodies and a pair of his boxers to at least cover your modesty. You slipped into the boxers and hoodie you smiled, bringing the fabric of the hoodie up to your face to take a deep inhale of Joel’s scent. You wandered into the bathroom to take a look at your appearance and you looked a hot mess, your hair was still up from yesterday but it was knotted and messy. Your makeup, for the most part was still intact besides some black smudges under your eyes. 

You found a hairbrush, let your hair fall down and cleaned up your general appearance. You by no means looked perfect, but you looked better than before. You walked down the stairs, humming to yourself and you smiled as the smell of bacon filled your nostrils and you could hear Joel singing to himself in the kitchen. 

“You’ve got a nice voice, Miller.” You announced as you walked into the kitchen and took your previous spot in the stall at the countertop. His voice was smooth, it was deep and smokey. 

“Thanks, darlin’.” He chuckled, suddenly feeling insecure. “You happy with bacon, eggs and some pancakes?” He asked and poured you a fresh cup of coffee. He handed it to you and kissed your cheek before going back to cooking. 

“Thanks.” You whispered and sipped at your coffee, your stomach was full to the brim with butterflies. 

“I -“ you both speak at the same time, you both laugh  and just like that, some of the tension felt eased between you both again. It felt slightly normal. 

“After you, sweet.” Joel said and dished up you both some breakfast. He placed the plate in front of you alongside some cutlery and he smiled as he sat just beside you on the stool at the corner of the counter. 

“Thanks.” You said quietly, picking up your cutlery. “I, I was just going to say… if you wanna pretend this never happened, I’ll go along with it, I mean sure it’ll hurt for a bit but like, I guess what I mean is… I’ve pined after you for some years now, I can do it again. I know you care about my dad and wouldn’t want anything to upset him and of course, neither do I! I mean… god, I don’t know what I mean but. I’m sorry about last night, I hope you don’t regret it.” Your voice trailed off at the end and you didn’t dare to look him in the eyes as you spoke, you knew if you did you would have been a goner.

“Sweet girl,” he spoke, his voice was breathy and quiet and did you detect a hint of sadness? “I don’t regret last night, not even a little bit. I’m real sorry if I crossed any lines, I know I’m a lot older than you and I know I’ve known you for years.” He mumbled, he was looking at you endearingly and just the sight of you here, in his hoodie, eating breakfast with him like you’ve always belonged there. “I loved last night… Was something I thought about for a while.” He admitted sheepishly. 

“Wait. No — you?” You peered up at him through your lashes and you blushed, a light flush settled high on your soft cheeks. You tried to bite back the smile but you couldn’t. “Y-you wanted me like that too?” You asked and grinned as you pushed some food into your mouth. 

Joel laughed lowly and ate his breakfast with a fond shake of his head. “Yeah, and why exactly is that so unbelievable to you?” He asked. 

“Just. Thought you were too gentlemanly to corrupt your best friend’s daughter.” You smirked. 

“We both know you were corrupt long before I had my way with you last night.” He smirked right back, cocking an eyebrow at you as he took a long sip from his mug. 

“So…” you said quietly. “What happens now? We going into my pop’s house and say hey dad, guess what!? Old man Miller and I are fucking! He makes my toes curl and eyes roll back into my skull. Aren’t ya happy for us?” Your voice was laced with sarcasm and faux-pep. 

Joel spluttered as he choked on his mouthful of food. “Fuck,” he cursed as he laughed. “I think that would be enough to kill your dad off, sweetheart.” He continued laughing and you gently smacked at his bicep. He waved a hand in front of his face dismissively before clearing his throat to continue. “And uh, for what it’s worth… I would very much like to see you, uh, outside of the bedroom as well.” He looked at you, trying to gauge your reaction. 

“Wait you mean… like date me? You wanna date me?” You asked, staring at Joel as if he had grown another head. “You’re fucking with me, right?”

“Again, why is that so hard to believe?” He questioned, finishing off his breakfast. 

“I guess most guys have one night of sex with me and decide either they’re done altogether or that’s all they want from me.” You shrugged, a pang of sadness striking you.

“I don’t know how to make it any clearer than I already have, peach. I want you. Completely. I want you to be mine and no one else’s.” His voice was soft but it was matter of factly. 

“God,” you sighed happily and pushed your plate away from you as you stepped down from your stool. “I’ve wanted to hear that from you for so long.” You whispered and closed the distance between you both so you could place a soft kiss to his lips. 

His lips tasted sweet from the maple syrup, the faint rich flavour of coffee lingered on his breath and his previous cigarettes still clung to him. It was just Joel still and it made you feel drunk. You reached up on your tiptoes to kiss him deeper, your hands on either side of his face as you did so. 

His hands sat on the small of your back and he smiled into the kiss. “So, is that a yes?” He asked, barely breaking the kiss to speak. 

You laughed and gave him an eager nod. “Yes. I’m yours. Completely. You’ve got me hooked.” You sighed contentedly. 

“That’s my girl.” He smiled, hand slipping down to cup your ass. “We will cross the messy bridge of your pops when it’s necessary, yeah?” He asked and peppered soft kisses down your neck after he moved the strands of hair out of the way. You nodded softly before you tilted your neck to expose more of your skin. “Good girl. For now, we’ll see how it goes. Wanna take you out on a real date. Real fancy restaurant and parade you around on my arm.” He said proudly, his hand placing a quick smack to your ass. 

You held onto Joel’s shoulders as he kissed your neck and you let out a small moan, barely there and all breath. “How about I thank you for breakfast, daddy?” You smirked, knowing how he had reacted to the nickname the night before. 

“Hmm, whatcha got in mind?” He asked, sinking his teeth into your clavicle, just under the fabric of his hoodie. 

You looked at him and took a step back, a devilish smile spread across your lips and you grabbed the hair tie from your wrist before pulling your hair up into a rough ponytail. 

“Wanna taste you, Miller.” You all but purred into his ear and your hand trailed up his thigh to cup his heavy balls through his joggers. He was already half-hard and you felt his cock twitch. You giggled and looked down to his joggers. “Excited already?” You teased with a new found power in you. 

“Shut up,” he growled, rolling his eyes. 

You laughed again and dragged him from his stool, you pushed him back with your arm so that the small of his back was flush with the counter. You pulled his joggers down, not wanting to waste a second more. Your mouth was watering, you couldn’t wait to taste him properly, to feel his heavy cock hitting the back of your throat. Admittedly, you were a little nervous as he was big and you hadn’t given head to someone who was so well-endowed but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t be willing to die trying. 

Joel hissed as the cool air pricked at the damp tip of his cock. His length bobbed gently as it was removed from the restraints of his trousers and Joel stepped out of the joggers. He wasted no time in pulling his old jumper over his head and you felt arousal pool in the pits of your stomach; in this light you could see every freckle, every hair and every tiny scar that peppered Joel’s body. It made your mouth water. You looked Joel in the eyes, a playful smirk sat on your lips and you spat into your hand, the filthy noise echoed that echoed in the kitchen. You wrapped your hand around the shaft of Joel’s large cock and stroked him until he was fully hard and leaking from the slit. He bit into his bottom lip and watched your small hand stroke him, you barely covered half his length as you stroked him and it made each pass more torturous. 

“Never gonna get used to how big you are, daddy.” You purred into his ear, leaning up to speak to him all whilst your hand stroked him. “You think I’m gonna be able to take you into my mouth fully?” You asked with a moan, really ramping up the sexiness, just anything to drive the older man wild. 

He groaned, it was working. His voice caught in his throat as he went to speak. “Gonna have to try really hard for me, little girl.” 

You sank to your knees and looked up at Joel through your long lashes. You stuck your tongue out and licked a long, fat stripe from the base to tip of his cock. You immediately moaned, a vague salty tang spreading over your tongue and you felt an insatiable hunger build inside of you. 

Joel looked down at you and stroked a soft hand over your cheek, encouraging you to take him into your mouth. You were more than happy to oblige, you opened your mouth wider and allowed yourself to sink your mouth onto his tip and down, down, down. You halted, your lips were tightly wrapped around his cock and you breathed through your nose shakily. He was so big, you weren’t convinced you would be able to take him further. You looked up at Joel and repeated that process; drawing your mouth up and then back down to the same spot. 

“That’s it, my good girl. Taking daddy’s cock so well.” He cooed, his voice somehow soothing yet so condescending. It sent shockwaves through your body and you wanted more from him; you wanted him to praise you more, you wanted him to humiliate you more. Just more. 

You moaned around his length and your eyes fluttered shut as you managed to take him deeper until your nose was pressed into the thatch of dark pubic hair. You breathed through your nose again, trying to relax your throat deeper for Joel to use. You breathed in deep and whined from the back of your throat, his musk was heady and thick. 

“Oh fuck,” Joel groaned gruffly. Your noises sent vibrations through the tip of his cock and it had him letting his head fall back in defeat. “Good girl, good girl, good girl.” He chanted as you raised your mouth, you fully removed his length from your mouth and let your tongue swirl around his tip before you dipped it into his leaking slit. 

“Tastes so good.” You moaned, sticking your tongue out, taking his cock you slapped it onto the flat of your tongue. Spittle ran down your chin and onto his hoodie as you did so and it was the perfect picture of sin. Joel wanted to take a photo and keep with him forever. 

“Naughty girl,” he smirked, looking back down at you hand, his hand was still gently rested on your face and he swiped his thumb across your bottom lip. “How about we take that hoodie off you so I can see those perfect tits.” He said, holding your chin and urging you to stand up. 

You obeyed, of course you did, you were completely at Joel’s will. You smiled at him, wiping your mouth and chin with the back of your hand. It was filthy and made his cock twitch knowing he was the one making a mess of someone who always seemed so put-together and perfect. You held the hem of the hoodie you were wearing and you pulled it over your head, removing your shirt at the same time, in one swift movement. Your tits bounced as they caught on the fabric of the hoodie and Joel watched with fervour. 

He didn’t say a single word instead, he ducked his head down and latched messily onto one of your nipples. You whimpered, ignoring the dampness in your underwear and absently, you cursed that you had ruined a pair of Joel’s boxers. 

“J-Joel,” you whined and tugged your fingers into his hair. “Wanna finish what I started.” You huffed and it was true, you wanted Joel to feel as good as he had made you feel the night before. “I’m trying to say thank you for breakfast, remember.” You laughed breathlessly. 

He finally released your nipple after feeling somewhat satisfied with its effect on you. You took a breath before resuming your previous position on your knees, your hands holding onto his thighs for stability and you wasted no time in sinking your mouth back onto Joel’s cock, he groaned once more and ran his fingers through his hair as he watched. 

“So beautiful. So perfect. No one has sucked my cock this good before, Peach. No one has made me feel this good. Such a good girl for me, doing such a good job.” He moaned, his words falling out of his parted lips as a helpless ramble. “A-are you happy for me to be rougher?” He asked you, and you pulled off him again with a slightly cocked head in confusion. 

“Rougher?” You asked, innocence completely shrouding your voice.

“Yeah, I would love to be able to fuck into your mouth, into that good little throat of yours. Feel you gag around me.” Joel’s cock twitched heavily in your hand, his own words clearly exciting him and you couldn’t deny the way your arousal pooled deep inside of you. “If it gets too much darlin’, you tell me and I’ll stop immediately. Alright. Don’t wanna hurt you.” He cooed, there it was again; that somewhat comforting yet entirely condescending tone of voice. 

You nodded dumbly up at him, unsure of how he wanted you to continue. It was as if he read your mind in that moment. “Open your mouth real wide for me, baby girl.” His voice was commanding and you followed his instructions obediently. “That’s it, atta girl. Now, put your hands flat on your thighs and let daddy fuck that filthy mouth of yours.” 

A whine escaped your mouth and again, you followed his instructions perfectly. Joel took his cock and pushed it into the wet of your mouth with a gruff moan. He bottomed out harshly and you couldn’t help the gag that built up and escaped. You screwed your eyes shut, just trying to will yourself and your throat to relax and accommodate him. 

“Shh, that’s it. Take it.” He growled and pulled his hips back before pushing his cock back into your mouth once again, he kept one hand roughly placed at the back of your head, gripping your ponytail just so he had some leverage to get himself deeper into your mouth. He started a rough pace from the get-go and you allowed it to happen; tears fell from your eyes and stained your cheeks as he continued his attack on your throat. “Look at me.” He commanded harshly, his voice was a low growl. 

You tried opening your eyes to look up at him but with each thrust into your mouth they squeezed shut, spit was spilling from all around your lips as Joel fucked into you. You were helpless and you loved it, you felt like you were doing something good and making him feel good, it’s all you wanted. 

“I said,” Joel hissed and brought his hand down to slap across your face abruptly. “Fuckin’ look up at me.” He growled once again and your eyes shot open, panic filling them at the slap. It should have hurt but it didn’t, it just made you wetter than before. A vague sting lingered on your delicate face but it made you hungry to do better for Joel, you wanted to impress him more. “That’s it. Good little slut for daddy, aren’t you?” He hissed, his free hand resting on your throat, with each thrust Joel could feel you try and swallow his tip, he squeezed your neck and he could feel it through your throat. With each thrust he felt the fat head of his cock bump against the back of your throat and hit near his hand.

Your eyes fluttered shut again at his filthy words, them having just the effect on you he desired, this time Joel allowed it. You felt lightheaded as you tried to suck in air through your mouth but instead spit bubbles gathered at your lips. It was obscene and filthy, only something you had seen in hardcore pornos before. 

Your hands gripped helplessly at your own thighs, still doing as you you were told. Every so often, when Joel’s cock hit the back of your throat and you weren’t able to catch your breath or swallow you gagged harshly around Joel but that only seemed to egg him on further. 

“Oh fuck,” he muttered, his hips stuttering slightly. “G-gonna cum.” He groaned, his hands releasing the vice on your neck and hair which caused you to gasp around his cock. “Where do you want it, little girl? Wanna swallow it all down? Or do you want it all over your pretty face and tits?” He asked, admiring your wrecked face. 

Joel pulled his cock roughly from your mouth and you swallowed down air like it was going out of fashion, your eyes were leaking and a thick, long line of spit joined his cock to your lips still. 

“M-mouth.” You managed to stutter out.

He smirked down at you and drank in the filth before him. Your cheeks were flushed pink, one side of your face pinker than the other where we had slapped you previously. Your eyes were wet, your mascara only having been smudged further as your tears stained your cheeks and your lips were puffy and swollen from the bruising force of Joel’s cock. 

“Wanna taste me, huh? Wanna drink down what daddy gives?” He asked using that tone once again. 

You nodded dumbly and stuck your tongue out for Joel to finish on. He smiled and took his length, he gave your cheek a slap with it and you moaned weakly at him, your thighs were shaking from holding your body up at this angle for so long. As you moaned, Joel laughed breathily and slapped his cock onto your tongue; your curled it upwards, ready to catch every drop of cum he would give you. 

“Please,” you breathed, your eyes batting and heavy lidded. 

“As you wish, princess.” He groaned and stroked himself quickly, his cock plenty lubed from your excessive spit. He locked eyes with you and you felt your body nearly crumble under his heavy gaze. You were near panting as you waited with anticipation, with Joel’s dark eyes boring into you. His once warm, puppy brown eyes seemed almost black as he released himself onto your tongue. 

As the first drops hit your tongue you felt Joel’s cock head twitch as he came, hard. You whimpered at the taste, waiting for him to stroke himself through his orgasm. You weakly reached a hand up to stroke him and help milk him of every drop and he winced at the overstimulation. Once you were sure Joel had finished, you curled your tongue into your mouth and swallowed down the salty taste with a moan. You were never usually a fan of guy’s finishing in your mouth but with Joel, how could you say no. Everything about him drove you wild, right down to how his cum tasted. 

Joel helped you off the floor and placed a chaste kiss to your lips. “So beautiful,” he whispered and you smiled. “Did such a good job, peach.” He praised and pressed a kiss to your forehead; you loved the way pride blossomed through your chest and it only made you want to try again, and do better that time. 

“Tastes so good.” You moaned against Joel’s lips softly and it caused him to smile. “Thanks again for breakfast.” You giggled. 

“I uh, I hope I didn’t go too far or hurt you? I’m really sorry if I did, I got carried away.” He mumbled sheepishly, and this time it was his turn for his cheeks to flush red. 

“Joel,” you warned softly. “It was perfect and I, well, I think you unlocked a new kink for me.” You laughed, stroking the male’s face gently to encourage him to make eye contact. “I mean, I always kinda knew I had a praise kink but you’ve confirmed that and well, uh, the roughness kinda drove me crazy. I think I’m gonna need to borrow a new pair of boxers to drive home in.” You chuckled lowly and Joel smiled back at you with a boyish grin. 

“Good, never wanna hurt you, my good girl.” He praised and kissed your temple. “You… You don’t have to go home today, if you don’t wanna, I mean. You can go and get some clothes and come and stay over again, if you want?” Joel spoke softly and you can tell he felt nervous offering that to you. 

“I should probably stay at home tonight, I’m seeing pops tomorrow and I don’t think I’ll be able to function if we have sex or anything again. I swear your cock is making me dumber by the second.” You jested. “But uh, maybe we could go on that date next week? If you still wanna, of course.”

“I’m free Tuesday.” Joel confirmed without missing a beat. 

“Tuesday it is then, I’ll be expecting your call, Miller.” You kissed him quickly before running off upstairs to get you changed. You grabbed a fresh pair of boxers from Joel’s drawer and also took the liberty of stealing back his hoodie and a pair of grey joggers. 

You bundled your clothes together in your arms and headed back downstairs; you so desperately needed a long hot shower, some more food and a long nap. 

“I’ll see you Tuesday?” You asked softly as you stood by Joel’s front door. 

“Tuesday.” He repeated. “I see you’ve acquired more of my clothes then.” He chuckled, raising a brow at you as he held your hip in his large hand. 

“Yeah I didn’t really feel like putting the skirt and tank top back on, I just wanna be comfy. Plus, these smell like you so win-win.” You laughed and with a sigh you took your car keys and phone from Joel’s hand and placed a kiss to his lips. 

He sighed softly into the kiss and pulled you a little closer; the kiss was different to before, not as hungry and desperate but it was sensual and passionate, you could feel all the unspoken words in it. All the times you had both clearly pined for one another’s touch and lips. 

“Joel,” you sighed, resting your head onto his chest. “I really don’t wanna go and if you keep kissing me like that, I’ll stay forever and then we will both be in trouble.” You laughed. 

“Fine,” Joel pouted. “Go, go live your young person’s life and have fun, I’ll be here. Withering away, my back’s posture similar to a stale chip. Fine.” He closed his eyes and pressed the back of his hand up to forehead, feigning betrayal and hurt. He peeped at you with one of his eyes and laughed as you rolled yours at him. 

“So damned dramatic, Miller. You’ll see me in a couple days. You’ve gone years without me, I’m sure you’ll cope.” You laughed and just as you turned to leave, your hand already on the door handle, Joel’s body was pressed behind you and he placed sweet kisses to your cheek and neck. 

“Yeah, well, I’ve tasted you now and I know how good you taste. I don’t wanna wait days to see you again.” His breath fanned over your neck and you shivered. 

It was now or never, if you allowed Joel to pull you in again you would be stuck in his house forever, the two of you glued to one another. 

“Goodbye, Joel.” You finalised and opened the front door and you knew that would have him taking a step or two back, especially with how nosey his neighbours could be.

 “See ya later, peach.” He sighed and waved you off before he closed the door and rest his back against it with a groan. It was going to be a long few days without seeing you again.

“Fuck.” He cursed aloud and he knew it was going to be a long few days without you.

“See ya later, peach.” He sighed and waved you off before he closed the door and rest his back against it with a groan. “Fuck.” He cursed and he knew it was going to be a long few days without you.

“See ya later, peach.” He sighed and waved you off before he closed the door and rest his back against it with a groan. “Fuck.” He cursed and he knew it was going to be a long few days without you.

“See ya later, peach.” He sighed and waved you off before he closed the door and rested his back against it with a groan. “Fuck.” He cursed and he knew it was going to be a long few days without you. 

[izurou]

“i hid a pea under the mattress, in case you were wondering.”

levi peers over his shoulder—hearing the routine sound of your balcony door sliding open, followed by the familiar warmth of your voice, coated in an obvious layer of sleep.

“yeah? you gonna marry me now that you know i’m the real deal?” he asks, bringing the cigarette sitting between his index and middle finger up to his lips.

he inhales, then exhales—watching a small cloud of smoke hang in the air, and he thinks to himself, i hate this. the cigarettes, and their stale scent—an unwanted guest that sits on his shoulders for days afterwards—the worst company he’s ever had the displeasure of hosting.

it’s merely a last resort though—a bad habit he turns to when the good just can’t scratch his itch, or—when it’s fast asleep beside him.

either way, you’re here now.

“depends,” you hum, nudging the door shut with your foot—hands busy cupping a mug that reads blow me i’m hot. “will you wear something pretty for me?”

it was a gag gift, something you had bought on a whim—it’s sole purpose being to put a smile on levi’s face a few times before inevitably collecting dust in the back of your cupboard. though, the inside of the cup is now littered with little dull lines—a year or two of love from a silver spoon.

“define pretty,” he says, because he knows you—knows the serrated edge of your tongue, down to the very last ridge.

“you.” him? bullshit.

he furrows his brows at you, but remains silent—waiting for you to unsheathe your blade and deliver the punchline.

“get it? because you’re…” you trail off—using the mug in your hand to gesture up and down at him, simultaneously passing the beverage over.

there it is.

“mm, trying to get me into something short, are we?” he hums, easily connecting the dots to your little pun. he flicks the butt of his cigarette several stories down, and sips his tea. “should’ve known.”

“well, you’ve got the legs for it,” you say, shooting him an over the top wink, and he almost laughs—a little puff of air through his nose with a smile.

you on the other hand do laugh, leaning into him a little bit as a result, and oh—the fruity scent of your body wash still lingers on your skin, courtesy of the hot shower you took before bed.

and he can’t help but stare—ridiculous, he knows, even more so considering the one you’re laughing at is him, but—you’re gorgeous. the little scrunch of your nose, and the roundness of your cheeks—the way you look to him for approval, as if to say please laugh too.

you’re a real pain in his ass sometimes, and yet you’re still the best company he’s ever had—it’s awfully comforting to know that at least one of the things he’s addicted to, is good for him. so, he stares at you and he thinks to himself, i love you.

“do you wanna get married?”

he blurts it out, words uttered with the utmost casualty—like he’s simply asking what you want for breakfast in the morning.

“what?” your laughter ceases, and you tilt your head at him.

“to me,” he says, feeling the need to clarify that he didn’t mean a generalized do you want to get married to someone, someday—but a do you want to get married to him, soon.

“levi, are you proposing to me?” you ask, disbelief sitting in the back of your throat as you brush a stray piece of his hair back into place. “because if you are, i think you’re doing it wrong.”

“oh? who said there’s a right way?” he questions, wrapping a hand around your wrist, holding you ever so gently.

“everyone, i think,” you mumble—the intensity of his gaze rooting you to the ground.

levi’s never expressed any interest in the topic of marriage. the status sure as hell wouldn’t change anything—he wouldn’t look at you different, nor would he treat you as such, and he’d still love you the same, always has and always will.

but, you deserve this.

“alright,” he mutters, and just like that he’s sliding the door back open—ushering you back inside.

he’s had the ring for a while—a pretty silver band that splits off into two, intertwining with each other before meeting beneath a single diamond. the place was going out of business, so it was relatively cheap, and in need of a new home.

he walks you to your bedroom, motioning for you to sit on the edge of the mattress as he heads for his nightstand.

a part of him wishes he would’ve brought the ring out onto the balcony with him—maybe someone passing by could’ve given this moment a sliver of the attention it deserves, for your sake.

it doesn’t matter though, because you fiddle with your fingers as you watch him get onto one knee, and you feel the butterflies in your stomach come to life as he opens the little black box—because the only person you need attention from, is him.

“marry me?”

[eoieopda]

[svt as fuckboi archetypes]

disclaimer: don’t take it seriously. i was having a convo. with my sister about my truly tragic dating history, and now we’re all going to hold hands n process it together.

seungcheol: big “air mattress on the floor” energy. his gaming set-up is expensive and immaculate, but he’ll be goddamned if he spends a dime on — idk — a bed frame, for example. don’t sit on his chair, though, because it’s specifically angled for his lumbar-support needs.

jeonghan: the “i quit” dude at the show who still consistently asks to bum both a cigarette and a light. you’re not getting that lighter back, and he will not, in fact, “get you back” for the uber back to yours or the take-out he weasels out of you on the way. he’ll charm you out of caring about it, too :’(

joshua: it’s giving “anyway, here’s wonderwall”. why did he even bring his guitar to this party? you don’t know, and you’re not gonna ask because the answer will make you want to fuck him less, and you really, really want to fuck him.

junhui: the one that passes out immediately after sex, leaving you trapped in that “….should i…. leave? is staying…. fine?” liminal space. he wakes up in the middle of the night, wakes you up, and informs you that you chose wrong and “should probably head out” because he has to work in the morning.

wonwoo: the one that turns every conversation into a debate. you may have a literal degree in xyz, but he is serving fresh takes™️, so listen up, diva! the dick game is god-tier, though, so you’re just going to mentally replace the sound of his voice with a different muppet’s in every conversation and wait for him to shut up <3

soonyoung: the house guest!!! he’s going to miss every single hint you drop about wanting to sleep alone. he’s going to leave a sweatshirt in your drawer so he can be comfortable next time. he doesn’t do “one-night-stands”; he does residencies. hope you didn’t have other plans this weekend :/ (eta: i wrote a fic based on this head canon — sweatshirt season, posted 10/29/23 — which you can read here!)

woozi: he asks if he can say “i love you” during sex because it gets him hot, and then he later informs you that you can no longer hook up because things are “moving too fast”.

dokyeom: you’ve been hooking up for a few weeks, and now he’s babbling about wanting to go to xyz place with you at some point in the distant future. he says it like he’s deadass about it, then looks at you funny if you ask him to get drinks tomorrow night. good luck, charlie!

mingyu: the stage-five clinger. he’s never had a fuck buddy before, and it shows. he has no idea what this dynamic is supposed to be despite a) suggesting it in the first place, b) numerous conversations about it, and c) repeated affirmations that he isn’t looking for a relationship. but he’s PRETTY, okay??

minghao: halley’s comet has nothing on this mf. he dm’s you once a year, you have the best night of your life, then he is gone girl for the next 364. you and your friends have a bet going in the group chat to see how many consecutive months he’ll leave you on read.

seungkwan: the one that has never — not even once — asked you a personal question. that’s not to say he doesn’t talk; he never stops. you’ve learned everything about him (his home phone number from childhood, the names of all his coworkers + his thoughts about them), against your will. frankly, you’re not sure if he even remembers your name atp because he relies exclusively on a generic pet name.

vernon: he talks a big game about meeting up, missing you, etc., but when the plans are laid, he “fell asleep, i’m so sorry, i’m just now seeing this!! :(” you washed your hair for this? rip.

dino: the foster puppy!!! he’s an emotionally unavailable, certifiable mess when you get him. you clean him up, train him, and the second he gets his shit together, he’s off. he’s found his forever home, and he’s coincidentally getting married on your birthday. sorry, bestie!!

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Sunset Bedroom (18+)

FastForward!Leonardo x reader

A/N: Just me wanting to make a smut in the Fast Forward setting, heh💙

------------

Sex with Leo in your shared penthouse guest room💙

All characters are aged up.

Warning: Spelling, oral, female receiving, dirty talk, light choking, unprotected sex, Leo being a tease.

------------

The future wasn’t as bad as one could fear it would be. It was much nicer and much brighter than you had imagined. But that could very well be because of the many windows in Cody’s penthouse. The food was good, if not a little strange, but you liked it nonetheless. The entertainment was also pretty good. Way different than what you were used to, but still good. But if there was one thing that stayed the same, no matter the time, being it the past, present or future, was Leonardo.

Your sweet terrapin boyfriend stayed the same, even after an accidental time travel into the future, and that was just the way you wanted it. Even after the sudden chance from sewer to penthouse, he stayed humble and caring. He still looked out for you in small ways, like placing a hand over the corner of the table when you were walking by, or always making sure there was a full glass of water by your side. He still cuddled you close at night and kissed you at every opportunity he got.

Even 99 years into the future, Leo still insisted on spending his planned time with you, just as much as he insisted on his training. The big difference being that Leo now had the opportunity to take you out, instead of planning dates in the lair, in your apartment or on your roof. But even in futuristic restaurants Leo would still hold your hand and keep his famous eye contact with you, while listening to you speaking.

But there was one thing that had changed between you and Leo; your sex life. Never before had you and Leo been able to get intimate so often, without interruptions. Though 2105 wasn’t without its dangers and villains, it was generally much more peaceful, which gave Leo and his brothers extra time to kill. And luckily for you, that meant getting fucked your brains out on a pretty much daily basis.

Tonight was no different. You and Leo had retreated into the big spacious bedroom Cody had given the two of you. Located on the western corner of the penthouse, with big open windows, you and Leo had one of the best sceneries in New York City. And of course the two of you have had sex several times with the city and the sunset as your background. There was just something about watching your face covered with the warm glow of the setting sun, as you begged Leo to make you cum with your sweet taste on his tongue, that made his mind spin ecstasy.

You were laying across the big soft Alaskan king sized bed, your hair cascading behind you on the mattress. Your pants and underwear had been discarded long ago, laying somewhere on the floor and out of your side. Your bra was on the edge of the bed, having been taken off by Leo the moment you got onto the soft sheets, and your shirt pushed up over your chest, revealing your breast to Leo and the air in the room. Your cheeks were flushed, your breathing was heavy and moans were escaping your lips. Thank God that a luxury penthouse in the future meant that the bedrooms were soundproof, because otherwise you would be getting in big trouble.

The sight between your legs was enough to make you roll your head back in pleasure. Leonardo, naked without any of his high tech gear or bandana, had his face buried between your thighs, with the tip of his skillful tongue rolling against your clit. Your legs hung over his shoulders so your calves were laying against his shell, with his strong arms wrapped around your thighs pulling them apart, giving him more space to devour your dripping core. His blue eyes held your gaze, making you shutter in excitement. All of this, bathed in the orange and yellow glow of the sunset, was an image you would never forget.

“Oh, fuck, Leo”, you moaned, your hands finding their way to the top of Leo’s head, pushing him further against you. He hummed against you, his hands gripping tighter onto your thighs, no doubt leaving a new pair of marks. His tongue started to do slow flat licks up your folds, running all the way from the bottom to the top, before giving your clit a flick with the tip, causing you to jolt underneath him. Leo chuckled against you before doing it one more time.

Leo took in the sight of you wiggling against his lips and the sounds escaping your beautiful plump lips, and started to grind his already dropped penis against the sheet underneath him, causing him to moan lightly against your center. The vibration shot through you, making your back to arch slightly.

“Please, Leo”, you continued, trying to push your hips closer to his face with the help of your legs on his shell. Leo however pulled back slightly, a small grin appearing in his face, as he watched you wriggle in frustration underneath him, without his tongue connected to your folds.

“Please what?”, he asked smugly, using his thumb to spread you open for him, enjoying the sight of your cunt glistering with a mixture of your own juices and his spit. It was a lovely sight, especially in the sunshine. It made it almost look like honey. You sighed in pleasure as he moved the thumb up towards your clit, pushing down you ever so slightly. Leo knew exactly what you wanted, but he wasn’t going to give it to you just like that. No, he wanted to work you up for it, have you beg for it. Have you beg for him. And you knew exactly that’s what he wanted. That had never changed and will never change, not that you were complaining. It was incredibly hot to be in this position under him.

“Please just fuck me, Leo!”, you cried out, your toes curling against his shell as he started to rub slow circles against you.

“You have to be more specific, sweetheart”, Leo said, his breath fanning over your wet opening. “How do you want me to fuck you? With my fingers? With my tongue? With my cock? Whatever you want, you just have to tell me, darling” He punctuated every option with a small flick of his thumb, making you jolt each and every time. God, you loved this man so much, but sometime you wished he would just fuck the life out of you.

“Your cock, Leo!”, you cried out once more, your hips chasing his thumb as he moved it around. “Please! Fuck me with your cock!”

Leo chuckled as he did one last circle over your clit, before sitting up with his erection showing off proudly with a slight bit of precum leaking out at the tip. “Your wish is my command”, he said, grabbing a hold of your legs to pull you closer across the bed. You yelped as he pulled you in one hard tuck, before giggling as he leaned down over you, feeling his penis just ghosting over your entrance. Leo’s lips found yours, his tongue quickly gaining access to the inside of your mouth. You moaned at the taste of yourself on Leo’s lips, lifting your hips in hopes of gaining some frictions against his rode. Leo’s right hand went to your hips, pushing you down onto the mattress with ease. His left hand made quick work, catching both of your wrist and pinned them on top of your head.

“What happened to ‘your wish is my command’?”, you wailed frustrated, trying to push against his hand. Damn him being so fucking well trained, all though it looked good and proved amazing in bed.

Leo smiled. He really had no reason for doing it, other than to hear you wailing a little but. Nothing new there. He had always been a tease in bed, enjoying your whimpering and squirming. “I never said I would do it straight away”, he smiled, his lips finding their way to your jawline, slowly kissing their way up to your earlobe.

“Your fucking tease”, you breathed, tilting your head to the side, giving him space to work on.

“And you like it”, he murmured against your ear, smugness dripping from his every word, sending shivers down your spine.

He was right; you did like it. Scratch that, you loved it. He would build you up over and over again, until finally giving you that earth shattering orgasm you had been waiting for. Begging for, even.

But you couldn’t ignore the burning need building between your legs, as Leo continued his slow assault on your jaw and neck, feeling his cock touch you folds every once in a while, almost making you go mad.

“Please, Leo!”, you begged, struggling against his hand. “Please just do it! Fuck me, Leo!”

You could feel his breath against your skin as he huffed out a chuckle. “Have you been teased enough?”

“Yes!”, you exclaimed, your head nodding wildly in agreement.

“Really?”, Leo asked, letting go of your hip to take a hold of his aching cock, slowly sliding it through your folds, yet another idea popping into his head. “How badly do you want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”

“So badly, Leo! Please!” Fuck this man and how easily he made you beg as if it was about your life.

“Good girl”, Leo praised you, before slowly pushing into your entrance. By reflex you curled your legs up around Leo, closing your eyes as you felt the stretch of him slowly filling you up. “Fuck”, Leo breathed into your ear, feeling his length being absorbed into you. “Always so tight”.

“Please move, Leo”, you whimpered, nudging him with your foot against his shell.

“As you wish”, he smiled, giving your cheek a kiss before he slowly started moving his hips against you. He pulled until he was almost out of you, before pushing back in. Both of you moaned at his movements, enjoying the pleasure it brought the both of you.

Leo’s thrusting started picking up, making you turn your face against your restrained arm, closing your eyes as you took in the pleasure he brought you.

“No”, Leo mumbled, using his free hand to turn your face towards him. His face contorted in focus, his gaze burning into yours and his mouth agape. “Look at me. I want to see you”. This always did something to you. It did not matter how many times Leo told you to look at him during sex, with him buried deep inside of you, it always did something to you. Made your stomach tighten and tingle in excitement, feeling the climax he had been building inside of you being brought closer to the edge.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful”, Leo mumbled, moving his hand from your face to your throat, holding you still as he stared into your eyes, his hips getting faster at the sound of your moans and whimpering. The way you said his name, begging him to bring you closer to the edge. At this point the sun had just dipped below the horizon, replacing the orange glow outside with the dark sky and the shining starts, the neon glow of the city casting colors throughout the dark room, lighting up you face, letting Leo see your reactions as he fucked you harder with every thurst.

Leo let go of your wrists, using his left arm to bring your leg up, so it rested against his arm, giving him space to curl his leg up and making it easier for him to thrust into you at a rapid speed. Your hands flew to him, on around his neck, the other holding on to the arm of the hand that was increasing its grip slightly, forcing your airway open and making your moans louder.

Leo groaned at the feeling of your tightening around him, pushing your leg up onto his shoulder, so he could use his arm to support himself.

“Leo! Baby! I’m close!”, you cried out, feeling that familiar feeling build up inside of you.

“Let it go, babe”, he groaned, tilting your head slightly forward so he could look directly at you. “Cum for me, (Y/N). Be a good girl and cum around my cock. Show me how good I’ve fucked you”.

That was all you needed to be pushed over the edge. With a scream like moan you came, the leg over Leo’s shoulder tightening up and your nails digging into his skin, in a way that made him moan in pleasure. Yet Leo’s speed didn’t falter. He fucked you through your high, egging you on as he watched your face. He would never stop loving the sight of your face whenever you came. Your beautiful face contorted in pleasure - pleasure he had given you.

Once through your high, Leo pulled out of you, leaving you heaving for your breath on the big bed. But you weren’t done. You knew that. Leo had never stopped after drawing one orgasm, and he never would. So you weren’t surprised when he shoved you onto your side, pulling you close with one of your legs up against his plastron. He stared at you with a mischievous yet yearning look in his eyes, covered in the neon blue light from the city outside. You would be lying if you said the sight didn’t get your heart going like crazy, holding your breath in anticipation.

“That was one”, he said, tugging himself a few times before lining up against your still pulsating entrance. “Let’s see how many we can do before sunrise”.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 26

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, allusions to abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: Enjoy the fucked uppery.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

When Andy stirs, you feel relief wash over you. He rolls away, slowly dragging his hand across your stomach. You quickly shield yourself with your arm as he stretches, making the bed feel even smaller. You push yourself up cautiously as he yawns, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“Mm, dove,” he murmurs groggily, “morning.”

He lowers his hands and smiles as he scratches his beard. A tuft along his chin juts out and he smooths it. His other arm falls behind you and trails his fingers up the back of your shirt. You shiver but do you best to suppress it.

“Morning,” you squeak back, bending your knees to your chest, “um, I’ll…” you search the wall on the other side of him as you think, “I’ll go make some coffee.”

“Oh,” his voice gristles with disappointment, “you’re leaving me?”

“Um, well, no, I just…”

“Can I get a kiss before you go?” He asks, playing with a dimple in the fabric of your shirt.

Your brows rise high and your eyes round. A kiss? Oh, you suppose that’s normal. If he loves you and you love him.

You nod and shift reluctantly. You unfold your legs as you twist around and lean in. He closes his eyes and you peck his cheek quickly before shoving away from him. You bounce across the bed, hopping off as your lips tingle funnily.

He groans but doesn’t say anything. You scurry to the door and stop just inside the frame. You look back at him, breathless in disbelief at what you just did. You really just kissed him.

“I’ll get changed and put the coffee on,” you promise with a sheepish smile.

“Alright,” his hand drops heavily onto the mattress. Your heart sinks. It wasn’t enough. You let him down again but that’s a lot for you.

You slouch and turn away. You shuffle down the hall and dip into the guest room. You shut the door behind you as your lip quivers. You thought you were getting better but that word just sticks in your head; ‘alright’. His grim tone stamped into your mind.

You pull out a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. You dress, happy to be rid of the shorts and high-cut shirt. You put on a pair of fuzzy socks as your toes throb in the chilly air. You’re nice and cozy and comfy. 

As you come out into the hall, you keep from crossing it. The bathroom door is closed. Dang. You were going to brush your teeth. You’ll have to wait. Once you get the coffee going, you’re sure it’ll be free.

You take a step down the hall and nearly trip. A low, sonorous sound draws you to a stop. You’re not sure what it is at first. You almost think it’s the floor groaning under your weight. No, it’s too full to be that. It rises again, a deep rumble that makes your stomach swirl strangely.

There’s a sharp breath. Almost a hiss. Shallow pants beneath the rich groans. Your heartbeat picks up, racing as you know you should cover your ears and run away. It’s him! It’s Andy. What is he doing?

You retreat and raise your hand to knock but stop as his voice gets louder. You think better of asking if he’s okay as you realise you might be intruding. The epiphany of what he’s doing makes you feel very… ashamed. You shouldn’t be hearing this.

You spin and flit down the hall, carelessly letting your feet thump on the floor and down the stairs. Forget it, focus on what you have to do. Coffee for Andy, tea for you. You can’t let one awkward moment ruin the whole day.

Once the pot is brewing, you set the kettle over a burner and pick out a pair of mugs. You busy yourself with tiny things; straightening the dishcloth on its hook and sweeping away an errant crumb. You hear the stairs as Andy comes down, another yawn, more theatrical than before as he enters the kitchen.

You face him as the coffee machine grinds. His cheeks are slightly flushed as he stretches his neck one way than the other. He goes to the fridge and takes out the carton of oat milk. You watch him, your voice trapped inside of you. You feel as if you might just blurt out what you heard.

He faces you and places the carton next to one of the mugs. He looks at you as you stare at the floor. You rub your arm and sway on your feet.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” He asks.

You frown and shrug, “I… you don’t like it?”

“Well, I thought you might… you might want to wear something I bought you. Dr. Kemp is coming over.”

“Oh, I guess,” you tug at the bottom of your shirt and examine it, “I didn’t think…”

“You don’t have to,” he says bluntly, “it’s up to you. I just thought you’d want to look good for company.”

You blink and peer up at him, hurt. What is he saying?

“You’re always cute, dove,” he reaches to caress your cheek, “but I know you can look even better,”

He kisses your forehead and you wince. You nod and sidle away from him, folding your arms over your chest as your socks slip on the tile, “I know… I’ll go change.”

🕊️

There’s a knock at the front door. You sit forward as Andy gets up. He wears a powder blue pullover and pair of dark blue jeans. 

You wear a short denim dress over a turtleneck, a few new pieces from the closet. Still, it doesn't seem good enough for Andy as he only said 'good enough' before pacing around restlessly. Now the time has come and your anxiety is about to overflow.

You wring your hands as you hear Andy open the front door. His greeting is met by Kemp's rich tone and you tug at your sleeves, waiting and watching the door. You don't know what to expect.

"There she is," Kemp smiles at you, "how are you doing, sweetheart?"

You try to return the gesture and stand. He looks around, appraising the room with a thoughtful hum. He twines his fingers together and cracks his knuckles.

"You good sitting there?" He asks as he looks at you again.

You nod and resume your seat in the armchair. Andy hovers behind the couch as Kemp nears the mantle and picks up the signed baseball there. He examines it before facing the room again.

"Andrew, why don't you sit down?"

"Wait, I, er, I forgot," Andy insists and goes to the console table near the window. He opens the draw and pulls out a familiar shape. It's your notebook, how did he get that?

"I thought this might help," Andy carries it over to Kemp and holds it out. The doctor considers it and swallows. His eyes flick up to meet the other man's and he raises his chin as his smile turns strained.

"Thanks," he slowly takes the book and pivots on his heel. He approaches you as you frown at his hand. Your lip trembles as you flutter your eyes. 

"Here," he offers it, "that's yours."

You take it and thank him with a squeak, hugging it tightly to your chest. You see Andy's brow arch as he stares at the doctor. Your heart won't stop racing.

"No need for that," he says to Andy as he backs up, "all I need are you two. So please, sit."

You can tell by Andy's stunted movement's and the twitch in his jaw that he's not happy. Well you aren't either. He took your journal without asking. That's your private thoughts.

Dr. Kemp waits until Andy is sitting before he relaxes his postures, blowing out a breath as he slides his hands into his pants pockets, "so I think it's pretty obvious what we need to work on; boundaries."

Andy's nostrils flare as you stare down at the cover of your journal. Did he look inside? Did he read anything?

"Let's start with privacy. Anything we deal within individual sessions will be kept confidential. Including that," Steve angles around to face Andy as he point to you, "when we are altogether, we share what is important for the two of you to work together."

"Okay," your murmur as you lift your head, Andy grumbles.

"Andrew, apologise."

"What?" Andy snaps.

"Don't you think you owe her after you took something that doesn't belong to you?"

"Are you serious?"

"Alright, then, if all's fair, you will hand over your phone and let her have a look, won't you?" Kemp challenges.

Andy sucks in his cheeks and sighs. He looks at you and lets the tension drain from his face, "I'm sorry, dove. I didn't mean… I only… I thought it would help. I didn't look inside."

You cling to the book, "it's okay."

"Is it?" Kemp shifts towards you, "is it okay?"

You look him in the face, just for a second before letting your eyes wander to safety along the wall. You shrug.

"You can say, we're here to communicate," he coaxes, "how do you feel?"

"Erm… upset, " you admit.

"Are you hurt?"

You nod again, "I'm… mad."

"As would be expected. And do you hear Andrew's apology? Do you accept it?"

You chew your lip and glance at Andy, "I can."

"Alright, so that's a boundary set," Kemp declares, "but we're not just focusing on those. Let's think about barriers. There are some very obvious ones here. Not least of all communication."

You put your head down and listen. Andy bends one leg over the other as he leans back and rests his chin on his knuckles. You wait as Kemp walks in careless lines around the room.

"So we need to talk to each other. Let each other know how we're feeling. So let's be together," he continues, "please, come sit with Andrew."

You wince but get up. You put your notebook on the table as you pass it can sit on the cushion next to Andy, keeping space between you. Kemp comes close and looks down at you, "come in cozy."

He gestures with both hands. You sidle over as Andy does the same. He jostles you slightly as his arm brushes against yours.

"Alright, I'm sensing a divide. There's resistance here," Kemp rubs his chin, "now, I spoke with Andrew but I don't want to share anything too much, so please why don't you share why you called me here?"

Kemp waits, watching Andy, who puts his elbows on his thighs and taps his fingertips together. He peeks over at you.

"Well, you know–"

"Tell her," Kemp directs.

Andy clears his throat and angles slightly. You feel like melting against his gaze, "dove, we already talked about some of it, didn't we? When I try to be nice, you just pull away."

You listen, shoulders slumping, spirit shriveling.

"And it just feels like you take whatever you need and leave me with nothing," he carries on.

"In what way? Be specific. What is the issues here?" Kemp prompts.

"I… I don't want to embarrass her… er, you, dove, but… when I touch you, you… you act afraid and… and you never try to touch me," he sits up and gulps loudly, "I'm a touchy person. That's how I communicate."

"Good, good," Kemp praises, "that's good to vocalise your needs. And she can't give you what you need if she doesn't know, right?"

You look between them, confused. They're doing most of the talking but you don't know what to say. You don't know how to feel.

"And you," Kemp opens his hands in your direction, "What do you need?"

Your lips part, your mouth is dry, your ears are fuzzy. You have no idea what they want you to say. You're not used to asking for things, there's not much you can think of that they can give you.

"Nothing. I have more than enough," you say.

"Sweetie, it's okay," Andy assures you.

You shake your head. You really don't know what they're asking. You just want to draw and maybe even be happy.

"It's alright," Kemp leans back on his heel, "she might not know."

You rub your lips together and clutch your hands tight. It feels hot in the room. Like you could turn into a puddle.

"That means we take it slow. Figure it out. Patience for both of you. Andrew, you have to take your time showing her what you need and you," he smiles at you, "need to be patient with yourself. Explore and let yourself feel before you judge."

You furrow your brow. Kemp backs up further and hooks a thumb in his pocket, "alright, let's try something small. A nice starting point." He instructs, "hold hands."

Andy perks up and looks at you. You can't meet his gaze as you stare at the thick wool weaving of the doctor's sweater. Andy puts his hand against his leg and opens his fingers.

"Whenever you're ready," Kemp says.

You swallow and shakily raise your hand. You lay it in Andy's and he spreads his fingers so yours slip between them. He curls his grip around you, tight and warm.

"And how is that?"

"Nice," Andy answers first. 

You sniff and nod, "yeah… nice."

"Alright, see. I don't want either of you to stress. This is healthy. Working together, right? Trust me, you're not the first or last couple to come to me."

"Sure," Andy squeezes your hand as if he's afraid you'll pull away.

"Hm, right, now one step further," Kemp continues, "put your arm over her shoulder."

You freeze, body locking in place. You're too afraid to protest. Therapy is hard work, Dr. Kemp said that the first day you met him. This is the only way to get better. Stop thinking about yourself, Andy is trying so hard.

Andy untwines his fingers from yours, leaning back slightly. He clears his throat and extends his arm behind you. Cautiously, he lets it rest over your shoulder. You try not to shrink down any further. He pulls you against him just slightly. 

"And that? Is it good?" Kemp asks.

Andy answers the same as last time and you echo him with another stiff nod. Kemp seems pleased as he claps his hands together. He drops his arms and frames his hips.

"Okay, one last thing for today," he begins, "and Andrew, you can relax, I want her to initiate." He looks at you and your eyes meet for a brief moment, "a kiss."

"On the lips?" Andy asks, reminding you of how you chickened out and pecked his cheek earlier.

"Yes, just a small one,” Kemp encourages you.

You hesitate as you feel the tension in Andy’s body firm. Oh no, you don’t want to let him down. You reach up to rub your cheek and slowly slide forward. You lift your head and face Andy cautiously as he looks over at you.

You can’t look him in the eye. Your ears thrum loudly as your gaze falls to his lips. You feel like you’re choking on air. Just do it. Just get it over with. It’s what you have to do to make him happy and maybe if you make him happy, you might be happy too.

You lean in, awkward as you’re unsure of the angle. You hover before him, quivering with doubt. You make yourself move forward and press your lips to his, letting out a squeak as your mouths meet. You hold yourself there for as long as you can before you pull away.

You sit back and stare at your lap. Your whole body is buzzing with a mix of hot and cold. You don’t know how you feel, you just feel different.

“That was good,” Kemp says, “wasn’t it, Andrew?”

“Y-yes,” Andy rasps, “see, dove,” he puts his hand on your knee, “we’ll work on it, huh?”

[winter-dayz]

Think of me?

Pairing: Jackson Wang x Reader Brother's Best Friend Genre: Fluff; Smut (if you squint) Words: 1673 Warnings: strong language; sexual content (male masturbation)

Masterlist | 12 Days of Ficmas Masterpost

Taglist:  @soobin-chois

‘It’s gonna be fine. The worst that could happen is that he won’t notice me. Again. And I’ll just remain his best friend’s little sister forever.’

Totally fine.

You shook your head—putting any other self-deprecating thoughts away in a tiny, sealed box in your brain to be dealt with at your next therapy session—and entered.

Each year, your family hosted a Christmas party. It used to be small, contained to the immediate family. But then your brother and you got a little older, begged your parents to let you invite your friends. They allowed it, and invited some of their own friends too. Then other guests wanted to bring their families—parents of your friends and children of your parents’ friends started showing. Soon enough, it became a proper holiday celebration and couldn’t be held at your family home anymore. All of the adults started chipping in to rent space and have it catered. It became a celebration and reunion of sorts from then on.

You made your way through the decent-sized crowd, greeting friends and family as you went, until you found your own parents and brother standing around chatting.

“Hi honey!” Your mom cheered, greeting you with a kiss to your cheek.

“Hi mom,” you smiled and glanced around, “The decorations look really nice this year. I like the red and gold theme.”

She beamed at the praise, motioning to your father, “Your dad picked out the main tree, and some of the others donated the smaller ones. We were going for something homier and warmer this year. People felt that the ‘White Christmas’ last year with all the white and silver was a little too sterile.”

You hummed, “Maybe if you do that theme again throw in gold? Like the song Silver and Gold… Or a nice royal blue if you want it to lean more–”

“Jackson!” Your brother shouted, interrupting your train of thought. Your head whipped around, following his line of sight.

Jackson, your brother’s lifelong best friend, was strolling over to your group. Soft, close-lipped smile on, eyes shining with happiness. He was dressed well, as usual, and had a Santa hat perched on bleach-blonde hair.

It was a different look than you had seen on him last, but you couldn’t deny you were really enjoying it.

‘You’ve got to get yourself together.’ You admonished yourself, tearing your eyes away and trying not to drool over your childhood crush.

Just the thought of him so close once again, though, had your eyes being pulled to him. As you caught another glance of him, you managed to catch his own eyes traveling the length of you.

‘I’m imagining things, right? Surely he didn’t just check me out? Right!?’

“Honey,” Your mom pulled you out of your thoughts, “can you bring yours?”

You hummed, wide-eyed as you refocused on the conversation around you. “What was that?”

“Your air mattress. Can you bring it for Jackson?”

“Why would I do that?”

Your brother looked at you with furrowed brows and said like it was obvious, “So he doesn’t have to sleep on the couch in the basement.”

“I didn’t realize you were coming to the cabin with us for Christmas?” You finally let your eyes flit back to Jackson. He was holding back a smirk in your direction already.

“Yeah, my parents are spending the holidays on a cruise. Didn’t really want to spend Christmas alone so your family is letting me stay with you.”

You felt your entire being tense. You weren’t trying to be defensive, even though you’re sure that’s how it comes off, but all that was running through your brain was getting through the holiday with the big fat crush you still had on your brother’s best friend.

“If you don’t want me to borrow your air mattress, it’s fine. The couch in the basement isn’t that bad.”

“No, no… It’s fine. I have to go back to my apartment and grab my bags after this anyway. I can bring it.”

Jackson’s subtle smirk split into a gentle smile, “I appreciate it.” He lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned a bit closer to you, “Between us, that couch is actually really awful. We should use it as kindling.” A bubble burst out of you, and Jackson’s small grin grew, brightening his face and causing his eyes to squint. “There’s that gorgeous smile.” You swore you heard him add on under his breath while you laughed.

🎄

“Hey loser,” your brother tossed a set of sheets onto you as you lounged on the sofa, watching a Christmas movie in the den. “Mom said to take those to Jackson downstairs.”

“And why can’t you do it?”

“I’m going to bed. You’re still up.”

You rolled your eyes as your brother headed towards where the upstairs loft was. You gathered up the sheets and made sure to grab an extra fleece throw, knowing how chilly the cabin basement could get in winter—regardless of how much work your dad put in to finish it and make it a nice guest suite.

Before you bounded down the creaky, wooden stairs, you called down softly, “Jacks?” You waited a moment, cold seeping in through your fuzzy socks, before heading down when you thought you heard him call your name back. “Hey, I brought you some sheets and a blanket since it can get… cold down… here…” You trailed off at the sight before you.

Jackson hadn’t been calling your name as an okay to come downstairs. No, instead, he was too busy moaning your name. His hand was wrapped around his cock, angry red and desperately weeping. Head thrown against the back of the couch, back arched as he bucked into his hand, and legs spread wide with his jeans unbuttoned and just barely pulled down to free himself.

‘He’s jerking himself off. To me? To me!? I shouldn’t be watching this. I shouldn’t be here.’ Your brain was malfunctioning. You knew you should just turn around, march back up those stairs, and come back down in a while with the blankets and sheets. But instead, your gaze darkened on the way he bit his lip to try to smother the louder groans, yet your name and swears still slipped through. Your eyes fluttered as you tracked a bead of sweat streak down his face. Your own mouth fell open, and you groaned at the way his hand flexed and gripped the couch, as if he could barely hold himself back.

Jackson froze, whipping around to find you standing there watching. He let out a sound, somewhere between a yelp and a whine. Embarrassment at having been caught colored his cheeks, neck, and ears.

You could feel that your grip on the sheets was white-knuckled and knew that your thighs were pressed together to release some of the pressure, but you simply cleared your throat and finally averted your eyes.

“I… Um, I br– brought the sheets for the air mattress.” You managed.

Jackson stared wide-eyed and panicked. He rushed to tuck himself away, fixing his hair and standing to take the sheets from you.

As he turned away to toss them onto the couch, he whispered into the awkward air, “I’m so sorry… You weren’t supposed to know… I’m just really sorry.”

“Know?” You flinched in confusion. ‘I’m not supposed to know what? That you masturbate to the thought of me?’ For once, you voiced your thoughts smoothly.

“Um, yeah…” Jackson looked ashamed.

“How… How long?”

His eyes darted to yours and quickly looked away, “Remember the Christmas party after you turned twenty-one?”

It was your turn to feel embarrassment wash over you. Of course you remembered that party. You had enjoyed one too many of your aunt’s famous Ho Ho Hot Cocoa… It was hot chocolate with more chocolate liqueur and peppermint schnapps than actual chocolate and milk.

You ended up nearly black out drunk, with only fuzzy memories of dancing with cousins and flirting with some friends of friends of friends. In fact, you were pretty sure you kissed someone…

“Oh my god!” Jackson rubbed a hand over his face, as you came to the same conclusion. “I kissed you!”

“Yeah… I’m sorry…”

That felt like a slap in the face. “What why? I’m the one who kissed you and then watched you… you know… without your permission. If anything, I’m sorry.”

“Because I enjoyed it…” Jackson hesitated, “I enjoyed both things if I’m honest.”

“Oh…” You breathed, mind blanking. “If… you liked me, why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Your brother told me you’d never like me like that. ‘I’m like a big brother to you,’ were his exact words I think.”

“That fucking idiot!” You screeched, “I’m gonna kill him! I’ve had a crush on you since we were fucking kids, Jacks!”

“You– You… Really?”

“Yeah!”

Jackson burst into laughter, pulling you into his arms. He was a bit clammy, his cologne a bit tainted with the smell of his sweat, and yet, you really didn’t mind.

“Y/N…” He eventually whispered into the crown of your head, “I want you.”

“Oh?” You whispered back into his chest, desire coursing through you.

He pulled back quickly, “Not like that! I mean… Yes, like that too… But– Fuck, I’m fucking this up… I want to be with you. I want to take you on dates and kiss you and cuddle the shit out of you all the time. I want to show you off and come home to the same apartment—at least someday—and then pamper you and fall asleep in each other’s arms.”

You breathed out slowly, “I didn’t know you thought about stuff like that.”

“I never did before you.”

“Well damn, Jackson… What am I supposed to say to all that?” you giggled, wrapping your arms tighter around his waist.

“Say you’ll go out with me.”

“Okay,” you smiled, “on one little condition…” He hummed, and you pressed a kiss to his jawline. “Keep thinking of me like that.”

“I can do that forever, baby.”

[farity]

Rush - ñuha prūmia

He'd caught her.

He always did.

It was their little game, with him counting down and her running off, but in the end he always found her.

And he always knew what to do when he caught her.

All she had to say was 'no'. He would stop, let her decide what happened next. If she needed his arms around her, or his lips on hers, or to be left alone for a while to sort herself out. Her job was brutal, long hours of helping save people's lives, endless surgeries. She loved it, she was valued, she excelled at it.

So when she came home, he did his best to gauge her mood, gauge what she needed.

Sometimes the game was played with no trigger, simply because he wanted her and he knew she enjoyed it. Enjoyed the moment when he reached her, when he caught her and pulled her in.

And she surrendered so beautifully.

Tonight she had needed him and he hadn't been home, and he hated himself for it. His job provided him the lifestyle that he could offer her, but he didn't save lives, he didn't spend hours on his feet making sure someone didn't die on an operating table.

When he'd finally arrived at the home they shared, she'd been sitting on the sofa, curled up with a book and a glass of wine.

"Have you eaten?"

"Not hungry."

He knew what that means. She wasn't taking care of herself. He made dinner, made sure she ate, and after, undid the practical braid she wore to work that she hadn't yet undone, rubbed her scalp, smiled when she let her head fall into his hands and sighed.

"Would you like me to draw you a bath?"

"That sounds heavenly. Yes, please."

So he did, and left her alone while she lounged in the bath, finished up his work and then stopped, frozen, when he saw her come in to their bedroom.

She was wearing his robe, the hem dragging on her smaller frame. She only did that when she needed him the most. Wore his clothes if he was on a business trip, wore his t-shirts to sleep if she needed comfort.

"Sorry, it just looked inviting," she smiled sheepishly.

"Never apologize," he murmured as he closed the distance between them, gathered her in his arms.

The tension was almost all gone with the long soak in the bath, but still, he looked down at her. "Three."

"Aemond, I'm half asleep from the wine and the bath."

She hadn't said 'no'.

"I'm feeling generous. Two and a half."

She raised the hem of the robe so she wouldn't trip, and dashed out the bedroom door, and he gave her a moment's lead."

"Two."

She'd learned to be silent, to open and close doors without making noise.

But years after losing his eye, his other senses had sharpened, and he walked straight into the guest bedroom, caught the slightest vibration in the air, and when he opened the closet door, found her, kissed her, and she laughed.

"One."

He carried her back to their bedroom, cursing when her mouth found the spot beneath his ear and began nipping and sucking there.

He tossed her onto their bed, glancing down when the robe fell open, revealing her legs. He grabbed one delicate ankle, kissed the hollow beside the bone, watched her squirm.

"You're mine."

"Always," she replied, and undid the belt, letting the top of the robe open fully.

"You tempt me," he said, reaching down to cup one breast. Her skin was still warm from the bath, and he let go of her for a moment, going to his night stand to click on the heating element in the mattress. "I don't want you to get cold. I mean," he smirked at her, "you are going to be naked for a long time."

She smiled at him. "Not just me, I hope." She extended her arms to him and he went to her, kissed her until her hands were clutching at his hair, her need for him growing.

"Will you let me decide?" he asked, as he usually did.

"Of course. But I want you up here," she said, caressing his face.

"Hmmm."

She shrugged out of the robe, her trust in him complete, and closed her eyes as he brought the blindfold closer, secured it around her head. "Good?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Words."

"Yes, it's good."

He kissed her cheek. "I love you, so very much," he whispered.

She smiled and reached for him but he wasn't there anymore, and her pulse quickened. He could be silent, too, she knew, as she covered her breasts with her own hands, squeezing gently in anticipation.

She felt his fingertips along her thigh, going up and down the side, and then felt him laying alongside her. When she would have turned towards him, he placed a hand across her shoulders, kept her on her back.

"I adore you," he said, a moment before he pressed something between her legs, and she gasped.

"Fuck."

"Not just yet," he said against her ear as he rocked the small device up and down over the sensitive knot of nerves between her thighs. "Just want you fully relaxed for me."

He was gentle, kissing her temple as she whimpered, her hips rocking as the stimulation began driving her towards release.

"That's it," he murmured, "gods, you're so beautiful. I love watching you come, the way your skin flushes, the way you cling to me, I'm going to make you come a hundred times tonight."

She moaned, her hands on his shirt. "Aem- Aemond, please."

"Are you going to count with me? Every single orgasm? How many times I fuck you until you can't think anymore?"

She screamed, her back arching, and he tossed the toy away, pulling her to the edge of the bed so he could drape her legs over his shoulders. When he began feasting on her, she whined, always so sensitive right after she came, and was soon grabbing his hair again as the second orgasm hit her.

He didn't stop, lips and tongue working her through every spasm. He was hard as steel, just watching her lose herself, surrender herself, was so addicting. As she came again, he pushed her thighs open further, her hands beginning to go limp in his hair.

He looked up, her breasts heaving with every gulp of air she took, the line of her neck as she threw her head back, every snapshot of her seared in his mind. She was his. Not just here, not just in his bed, but her heart was his. She wore his ring (well, sometimes), she pledged her love to him constantly. She was everything he had ever wanted. Everything he never thought he would have.

* * * * *

It wasn't quite a hundred, but she had the feeling that if she hadn't begged him to stop, pleaded that she couldn't any more, he would have kept going.

When, hours later, he had finally taken her into his arms and driven inside her, she'd wrapped herself around him. whispering I love you I love you I love you over and over and over.

She awoke with her back against his chest, blankets tucked around her. She turned in his arms, watching the early morning light play across the sharp edges of his face. He looked so severe, so intimidating, most of the time, and she had seen how he could end a conversation with a look.

She'd seen him at his lowest, right after he'd lost his eye, when he was angry and terrified as the anesthesia that she'd administered began working and his good eye had started to close. She'd held his hand until he'd gone unconscious, broken protocol and held his hand when he'd started to wake up.

His eye hadn't been saved, which she'd known as soon as she'd first seen him. She hadn't known who he was at first, despite the hair. There were so many bastards out there, after all.

She'd only known that he was under her care, and that something about him drew her to him.

With him, she felt loved, safe, treasured. The trips, the luxuries, they were fun, but it was the small moments of their daily life that filled her, the texts he'd send her telling her how much he loved her, just because. The way she knew when his head was hurting, just by looking at him. The way he could lay his head on her shoulder and just be with her, no words needed.

She'd put on the engagement ring when she'd come home. There was no way she could wear that ridiculously massive thing at work, so he'd given her a pendant to wear under her scrubs. It had my heart written in High Valyrian, the language of his ancestors.

He'd told her it belonged to her. That it was hers to keep and care for, as hers was his.

And it was all that mattered.

* * * * *

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[juyeonszn]

CLOSE TO ME, I’M CLOSE TO YOU

PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 1.46k

GENRES literally just fluff

WARNINGS no 18+ warning this time 🙀, despite it being KIND OF suggestive at one point, it really isn’t anything that constitutes a warning, brother’s best friend trope, (fr)enemies to lovers trope, good ol’ fashioned sneaking around, mild swearing, tbh this is really cute and like i wanna throw up bc when is it my turn </3

SUMMARY despite keeping your relationship restricted to the confines of these four walls, you would always be his.

MORE LOLLL IM INSANE I KNOW U CAN ALL THROW TOMATOES AT ME 😍😍🙏i literally wrote this in 2 hours call me william shakespeare :P um anyway here u go anon! here’s your request from my 100 followers event <3 prompts used are: 1, 15 🙌

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs

“What’s the purpose of that top if it barely covers anything?”

You glance over at Hyunjae with a scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. “First of all, who the hell are you to judge what I’m wearing? Second of all, why are you looking?”

“Okay, gross, I would never look at you like that. You’re a child.” He gags, his lips curling downward into a grimace. You roll your eyes.

“And you’re old. Find a new comeback, Jaehyun.”

“Here they go again. And with the government name, too, that’s crazy.” Juyeon snorts from his spot on the floor. Eric bursts into an unnecessary amount of laughter, slapping his shoulder aggressively. The older male winces, muttering a small ‘Ow’.

Sangyeon sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and pausing the movie that you were currently watching. He deadpans at the two of you. “Do I really have to play referee right now? In the middle of movie night?”

You both send puppy dog eyes and big smiles his way, because no matter how fun it was going at each other’s throats, it was never worth the scolding from your older brother. Sometimes you feared his wrath more than your own parents, and that’s considering the fact that you were a grown adult. He gives you a warning look before resuming the film.

The funny thing about being four years younger than your brother was the way you shared a friend group. Upon entering university, you befriended two rambunctious boys who happened to be on the baseball team with Sangyeon. Thankfully, you’d been close your whole life, so it wasn’t too big a deal when you all started hanging out. It was kind of convenient since you lived in the same house.

As the movie continues, you glance over at Hyunjae, whose chin is resting on his palm. God, his stupid face pissed you off so easily. Just looking at it riled you up unprovoked. He was lucky he was best friends with your brother (and also all of your friends), or else you might’ve killed him at this point. To be completely honest, there were a couple times you almost did.

Towards the end of the night, everyone started settling down and getting ready to go to bed. A couple of the guys usually slept in the living room, there were a couple in the guest room, and then whoever else was left crashed in your brother’s room with a futon or air mattress. Being the only girl had its special perks— i.e., you got to have your bedroom all to yourself.

It’s about an hour and a half after you’ve parted ways with the boys that you hear the familiar creak of your door opening. A warm body sneaks under the covers behind you, wrapping their arms around your torso and pressing their lips to the shell of your ear.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“Took you long enough, Lee Jaehyun,” you murmur, side eyeing him while you shut your phone off and place it on your nightstand. “I almost fell asleep.”

“Stop calling me that,” he pouts, groaning into the crook of your neck when you giggle at his childish behavior. “You sound like my mom getting mad at me when I was a kid.”

Okay; silly story time. Hyunjae and yourself truly started off hating each other. He was a pretentious know-it-all and he despised being wrong. He always had to get the last word and he argued with you like his life depended on it. To you, he was your older brother’s insufferable best friend and you wanted nothing more than to strangle the living daylights out of him.

His first impression of you wasn’t that much different. He thought you were an over-confident spoiled brat who had zero filter. You enjoyed picking fights with him just because you knew it irritated him like nothing else. To him, you were his best friend’s annoying younger sister and he wanted to put a muzzle on you so he could shut you up for once.

The pair of you were like fire and gasoline, a deadly combination that the universe made a mistake putting together. Your friends were amused by your constant bickering, but it drove your brother insane.

One day, in an attempt to get you to bond, Sangyeon had sent Hyunjae to pick you up from a friend’s apartment after working on a project. The entire car ride was filled with insults left and right, neither of you paying attention to the angry grey cloud in the sky above you. Before you knew it, it was pouring down so hard that Hyunjae could hardly see through the windshield.

He pulled over into an empty lot to wait it out, but even that storm wasn’t enough to quell the rage warring in both of you. Your fight started back up, this time more heated than the previous.

You liked to think you weren’t a woman of many flaws. However, you proved yourself incorrect this go around. Your single flaw was your inability to bite your tongue and keep your thoughts to yourself. So, when Hyunjae told you to ‘Shut the Fuck Up’, your response wasn’t what it should’ve been.

Instead you said; “Make me.”

And well, make you he did.

He kissed you with such force, the back of your head almost collided with the car window. You pulled away from each other to process exactly what had just transpired, realizing that all this detestation, all this animosity and rival shit had just been poorly disguised lust. All that tension was because you loathed the other and wanted them to die a slow painful death, it was because you wanted to go at it like jackrabbits.

After another few minutes of making out and waiting for the rain to subside, you both noticed that it wasn’t stopping anytime soon. Hyunjae licked his lips and traced your own with the tip of his finger, grinning. “We won’t be missed for a couple hours, we should take advantage of that.”

In your head, that was a completely logical conclusion that you quickly agreed with. And so, that was the beginning of your secret relationship with Lee Hyunjae, your brother’s best friend and your supposed enemy.

“You and your bed are so much more comfy than the pull out in your living room. I kinda feel bad for Juyeon and Changmin.” He rubs circles into your waist with his thumb, wrapping his arms tighter around your middle.

“Hey, I’m not opposed to kicking you out and making you sleep in a sleeping bag like Sunwoo and Eric.” You tsk, turning in his embrace to face him.

He gasps in feign offense. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you shrug, sighing dramatically. “Apparently, I’m a child and you would never look at me a certain way.”

“I was just joking, baby,” he laughs and good God, you’re down bad if just the sound of his laugh has butterflies erupting in your stomach. “I gotta make sure everyone thinks I still find you aggravating. You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, you know.”

You bat your eyelashes at him exaggeratedly. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Hyunjae smiles at you, differently than all the others he’s shown you before. It’s tender, gentler than what you’re used to from the brunette. His eyes are a softer shade of brown, mocha colored irises that stare at you with so much admiration that even the darkness of your room couldn’t overshadow. The moonlight peeking in from your curtains illuminates his features perfectly.

“I know I don’t tell you that often, but you mean a lot to me, Y/N,” he suddenly confesses. “Sneaking around and not being able to show the world that you’re mine is so fucking difficult, but if you’re not ready, then I’m okay with it. I want you to be happy when you’re with me, all the time. You make it all worth it.”

“Hyunjae…” Your bottom lip juts out, your heart swelling with so many emotions. His eyes flicker down to your mouth and he closes the gap between you, leaving a sweet kiss that manages to knock out all the air from your lungs.

He peppers kisses to your cheeks, nose, and the crown of your head until your breathing has evened and you’ve fallen asleep. His favorite part of sleeping over was getting to see this, you laying in his arms peacefully. It served as a reminder for him that despite keeping your relationship restricted to the confines of these four walls, you would always be his. He whispers one last thing to you before calling it a night himself, though he’s sure your sleep is too deep to register it.

“I love you.”

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.