#but there's definition to his edges. there's reasons and explanations.

[thebleedingeffect]

Oh one of these days I need to make a whole Gary meta post cause he's unironically so fascinating to me I need to spin him at max speeds

[intromortal]

JEALOUS HEESEUNG BORDERLINE HATE FUCKS YOU !

pairing situationship!heeseung x f!reader

warnings smut. mdni. p in v, manhandling, name calling, hair pulling, mean hee won't kiss you

Heeseung, all things considered, is a pretty chill and laid back guy. Not prone to big displays of jealousy, especially if anywhere public. Most of the time he's quietly laying back on a couch at a party across the room, watching you with a glint in his eyes as time and time again you reject yet another guy trying to sneak his way into your pants. There’s something about the way you so obediently glance his way every time someone tries to flirt you, how your expression slightly shifts when he slouches further into the soft brown cushions, legs spread almost as if to invite you over on his lap.

It’s been months since you started fucking, and as embarrassing as it feels to admit, you two haven't really put a label on what your... status actually is. You’re definitely more than friends–though you don't know if you would even consider Heeseung your friend in the first place–but you also don't believe you're anywhere close to being a thing yet. That litter sliver of something keeps you fucking hooked on Heeseung though, as bad for you as it is.

And he enjoys every second of it. How you're so loyal to him even when he doesn't give you any reason to be.

He’s confident you'll follow him around everywhere like a little lost puppy as long as he keeps feeding you whatever crumb you need; a gentle brush of his hand whenever he greets you, a soft compliment whispered in your ear before leaving you to find something to drink, a sweet forehead kiss when at the end of the night you've both found your way between the bedsheets. I’ve got it under control, he thinks.

Yet he can't find any explanation–one that he’d make peace with, that is–for the scorching rage that overcomes him whenever he sees you and your bestie walking hand in hand around campus. The slightest twitch to his eye when he notices how bright you seem to be around Jay, how hard you laugh at his jokes and how touchy you seem to be, shoving his shoulder away when he makes a stupid comment, yet letting your hand linger on the cotton of his shirt. There’s a different light coming from within you when he's around, and Heeseung fucking hates it with his entire being.

So really, he can't help it when he completely loses the cool he so desperately tries to maintain around you the one he catches jay staring way too long at your ass for it to be a mistake. There’s nothing Heeseung would have loved more than to beat him to a pulp, for looking at his girl like that.

Except you're not his girl–he hadn't even realized he really wanted you to be until then–so he can't do that. What he can do instead is take it out on your poor unsuspecting pussy though.

"You are such a nasty slut," he whispers against your lips as he pistons into your weeping cunt, ignoring every attempt you make to kiss him, biting down on your bottom lip when you don't catch the hint. "Walking around in that tight black skirt, for what?" It feels like he's spitting venom at you, a primal edge to his tone unlike anything you've ever heard from him. Despite everything, you'd be lying if you said it didn't make your pussy clamp even harder around him, trying to milk his girth for all it’s worth.

You take too long to reply for his liking, his hand digging almost hurtfully in your face to force you to look at him. "For. What?"

"I– fuck, i don't know."

He looks at you incredulously, like you must've gone dumb on his cock already, while his movements come to halt, despite your little cries and begs for him not to.

"Yes you fucking do," he spits, grabbing your thighs and flipping you over onto your knees. A little scream ripped out of you at the sudden motion as he manhandles you in whatever way he wants, paying no mind to any possible aching body part of yours or any discomfort you may feel. "Wore it to flaunt this ass around, didn't you? I know you did."

He lands a harsh smack on the skin of your bottom, kissing his teeth in annoyance when your entire body jerks forward, front collapsing on the bed. He eases his cock back into you in one thrust, setting a pace that is somehow faster than earlier. "Wanted Jay to bend you over like this, huh?"

"N-no! I– ngh." Your rebuttal is cut short by his hips slamming into yours in a harsher thrust than the previous, his thick hand pushing your head against the sheets, uncaring of all the drool that's dripping from your mouth, your eyes rolling into your skull. He plants one of his feet into the soft mattress, the new angle helping him reach so much deeper inside you as the hold on your hips becomes nearly unbearable, sure to leave a flashy bruise.

Good, he thinks. Let everyone know I own you.

"Oh, shut the fuck up." He grabs some of your hair, using it as leverage to fuck into you even harder, the mix of pain and pleasure so unbelievably delicious you don’t even know what to do with yourself if not just lay there and take it all. "That’s all a slut like you is good for anyway, shut her mouth and let me use her pretty pussy as I please."

[luveline]

hi love! i absolutely adore ur writing and u should be so so proud of it. anyway i was just thinking about coworker james when readers car wont start in the parking lot and he like takes a look at it and is under the hood and reader is just like "oh...😍" cause the muscles are OUT and shes down bad

ty lovely 💌 fem

“Oh,” you say, “of course.” 

You drop your face into your steering wheel and sigh. An annoyed burst of sound, not cute or feminine or fun, a grunt of defeat. This sucks. Work sucks, life sucks, your car not starting is the least of your worries and yet somehow the most prevalent. 

How am I gonna get home? you think to yourself, defeated.

“Hey!” someone calls. Jogging, the last person you want to see in the world right now stopping at your door. James frowns at you. “It’s not starting?” 

You pop your door, careful not to pop him at the same time. “How’d you know?” 

“I heard the engine turn over.”

“It’s making a clicking sound,” you say, twisting the key so he can hear it. 

“It’s dead, probably. Your battery.”

James has an odd way of talking occasionally, as though you’ve started a conversation and he’s adding onto it. Remus says it's ADHD. You like it no matter what it is and despite yourself —it’s getting harder to pretend you don’t like him. Like, you hate him, he’s annoying beyond explanation, but your more positive feelings for him are heavy and ever present. So, so heavy.

“I’ll pull my car up and we can give it a jumpstart,” he says. “Easy fix.” 

“You don’t have to go?” 

“What?” 

“You have rugby today.” 

“Oh, no, it's the off season now.” He smiles and you don’t get why. “Let me go get the car.” 

James jogs back to his car and brings it next to yours. Everybody who isn’t Human Resources or security has left already, leaving the car park practically empty, ample room for him to park beside you. He gets back out. 

“I don’t have, uh, cables,” you say.

James gives you a smile that is as patronising as it is attractive. “Don’t worry about it, beautiful. I have everything you need.” 

He feels along the edge of your hood, pops the seal, pushes it up into the air, and hooks the prop rod into place. He’s clearly done it before, and the whole while you’re watching his arm. His rolled sleeves draw attention to the tightness at his bicep, and the moving ligament and muscle of his tricep as he leans into the engine to look things over. “I’m no mechanic, but I do know everything, and I thought maybe things were a bit hot but your engine’s stone cold.” 

“So it’s definitely the battery?” 

“Probably.” He scratches his jaw, peering curiously into the guts of it all. “When was the last time somebody looked in here?” he asks, squinting at you, unaware that he’s the finest thing you’ve ever seen. 

Your breath gets caught. 

“Have you ever had it looked at?” he asks, concerned. 

“I… maybe I did. I think so.” 

“You’re supposed to have it looked at every year? For MOT?” 

“I know, I thought you meant before that.” He’s distracting.

James looks you over. “It’s fine,” he says emphatically, “even if I can’t fix your battery, I can still drive you home. You’re panicking for no reason.” 

“Right.” Panicking! Yes, this is panic.

“Listen, can you get the jump leads from my boot? I have to open the hood.” He gestures for you to go. You do as he’s asked, wobbly, and struggle when you get there to actually open it. You slides your fingers under his car's emblem and flinch as it flies up past your face. 

His boot is surprisingly well organised. There’s a duffel bag to one side half-zipped that showcases a flash of red and white uniform, a pair of formal shoes, a dark jacket folded and hidden behind the bag. You want to be nosey and you don’t want him to think you’re stupid. You rush to grab the cables and almost clip yourself on the boot as you duck from under the boot and round the car. 

James smiles when he sees you. No indication that you’re an imposition, it’s sort of like you’re two friends. 

He pushes his sleeves farther up and digs in. It’s awful, what business does he have looking so sharply put together? You hadn’t thought you were preferential to muscle until right this moment watching James move around your engine like an expert. 

“What are your plans tonight?” 

Your palms are hot behind your back. “I was thinking I’d watch a new movie.” 

“That sounds fun.” He ducks away from the engine. “I don’t watch many movies.”

“What do you do with all your time?” 

“Argue with Sirius about who’s turn it is to wash the dishes.” 

You startle. “You and Sirius live together?” 

James laughs and pulls the leads to his own engine. “You didn’t know that?” 

“You come in different cars.” 

“I come in much earlier than he does. And after work he and Remus always have things to do. It’s weird, isn’t it, how couples are always busy? I feel like I never do anything.” James grins at you. “This is interesting, at least. My Friday night isn’t a total waste.” 

James gets into his car and you into yours. With some fiddling, pleading, and a strange noise, he manages to push life back into your car. His smile when it works is his worst one to date, elated and shockingly handsome. 

That Monday, against your better judgement, you bring him a little carrot cake in a tin. A thank you card felt like too much. 

To his credit, he doesn’t brag to anyone that he saved you. He says thank you for the cake with another real smile, and for some reason, despite the mild weather, he rolls his sleeves up at his desk. Almost like he noticed you…

Well, he couldn’t have. Right?

[miclipse]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ princess & the fish.

pairing: rafayel x fem! reader

synopsis: rafayel’s dream of turning into a human had miraculously come true! but things didn't turn out like he had expected…

word count: 3.7k

cw: afab! reader, rafayel is a fish (literally, but he turns into a human), reader is a princess, nicknames used (princess, your highness), rafayel struggling to walk with legs, rafayel hates toes, very slight and brief abysswalker! rafayel reference (just one line), reader finds rafayel half-naked in her room, fluff

dt: everyone that wanted fishy rafayel (aka fifi) to turn into a human + the person in my asks asking if i was continuing this.

note: reupload because apparently my post didn’t show up in the tags :( but unfortunately that means the ask got deleted as well, sorry anon :(

likes reblogs & comments appreciated! <3

this all had to be a dream, right?

…actually, no. this was most definitely a nightmare, if anything.

because why else would rafayel be standing naked in your bedroom, the fishtank he once called his home now nothing but shattered glass scattered across your study table?

there was no logical explanation for this, rafayel thought to himself while struggling to manoeuvre around your room with his new pair of human appendages.

he spent at least ten minutes stumbling over his toes while trying to make his way to your bathroom door.

…seriously, why did humans even have a need for toes? and ten of them, at that!

when rafayel had finally, finally made it to the bathroom entrance, he spent another five minutes figuring out the mechanism behind how to open it.

turns out, the grand secret behind it was that he had to push the door, not pull.

once in the bathroom, rafayel was tempted to fill up your bathtub with water and just jump in for a swim, but he figured seeing a naked man with a towel wrapped around his waist would be a little less intense for you than having to see a fully naked stranger swimming around in your tub.

thus, rafayel opted to grab a spare towel from the cabinet just under the sink, carelessly tying it around his waist to hide his indecency before you came back from your royal duties.

rafayel spent yet another ten minutes trying to walk out of your bathroom (he nearly slipped at least twice but he refuses to talk about it) and towards the nearest furniture he could sit on without it breaking due to his new physique.

looking around your bedroom to ensure that there were no maids around to witness this phenomenon, rafayel plopped himself on the edge of your soft mattress.

resting his head on his fist, his eyebrows furrowed in the process.

this was not how he imagined things to go at all.

in all honesty, rafayel was pretty satisfied living life as your pet fish. though there were many pros and cons that came along with his new domestic life, he wouldn't have wished for things to be any different than how it was.

of course, there were times when rafayel would ponder to himself how life would be for him if he were to turn into a human and be able to properly talk with you.

but out of all the exaggerated and cliche scenarios rafayel had fantasized about during his free time (which was whenever you were not around), being naked with only a fluffy white towel tied around his waist as he dreadfully waited for you to return was definitely not one of them.

well, it probably was. but it was not at the top of his list, that was for sure.

but here came the real question—

how did he even turn into a human? there was no logical or scientific reason behind how all of this was possible. rafayel had never heard others talk about stories of fishes turning into humans either.

well, unless you included ariel from that little mermaid movie. but ariel was a mermaid, so it really was not exactly the same as rafayel’s current predicament.

and besides, rafayel didn’t think he knew or angered any shady sea witches back when he lived in the waters.

there was nothing he could really do at the moment. as much as rafayel wanted to sneak to the royal library to dig out some sacred books in order to do some research about his condition, he dared not imagine the consequences he would have to face if anyone caught him sneaking out of the princess’s private chambers with only a skimpy bath towel covering him from waist-down.

just the image of him getting beheaded by the royal guards was enough to convince rafayel not to leave your private chambers, knowing it was the safest place for him to be in right now.

so his only option now was to wait for his princess to return to her chambers so that he could try to explain the situation to you in hopes that your naive little brain could understand and help him out.

he was your beloved fish afterall, so surely you would find a way to help him, right?

an ear-piercing scream echoed loudly through the room.

rafayel's eyes snapped open in panic and immediate dread, sitting up from the bed frantically only to be met with a big white thing smacking his face.

as he made a clumsy attempt to back away from the bed and nearly tripping over his newly grown toes (human toes be damned), rafayel’s eyes wandered to the big white thing that was thrown at him.

it was your polar bear plushie, he noted.

rafayel then turned to look at the door, only to see you standing there looking like a frightened kitten, now holding a thick, hard-cover book ready to launch at him once more.

it was only then rafayel realised that he had accidentally fallen asleep in your bed while waiting for you to come back.

this was not good. not good at all.

“who… who are you?!” you shrieked out, preparing yourself to throw the book in his face within the next five seconds if he didn't respond.

“me? i’m…” without even realizing it, rafayel darted his eyes to look at your study table as he fell silent, his lips pursing together.

you gave him a look of skepticism before slowly following his gaze. the man watched as you let out a horrified gasp when you saw that your fishtank was nothing but shattered glass on the table.

“fifi!”

running to your study table, you stared at what once used to be fifi's home for the past three months, now nothing but broken shards scattered all across the table.

“you! what have you done to my fifi?”

rafayel backed up into the corner of the room when you pointed an accusatory finger at him, feeling very wronged by your assumption.

what, did you think he ate your fish or something?

“woah!”

to prevent his nose from breaking tonight, rafayel quickly moved his head to the side to narrowly dodge the book in your hands that came flying towards his face.

that was a close one.

“let's use words, shall we?”

before you had a chance to frantically look around your bedroom for a new deadly weapon to fling at rafayel's handsome face, he had to think of something believable, and fast.

“i’m asking you one last time, where. is. my. fish?”

your eyes narrowed and your eyebrows furrowed as you glared at rafayel as an attempt to threaten him.

rafayel doesn't really have the heart to tell you that your glare was nothing more than a little fly trying to square up to a frog.

not the best comparison, but you get it.

“well, if you're looking for fifi, i’m right here.” rafayel responded as nonchalantly as he could, desperately trying to hold back his laughter.

you shot him an incredulous look, obviously doubtful with his claim of being your pet fish. rafayel felt absolutely scrutinized under your gaze while you looked at him up and down.

“do you think i’m five?”

“well, given how you spend your nights talking to a fish like it's your newfound soulmate, i wouldn't doubt it.”

man, rafayel wished he could describe how proud he felt when he saw your jaw slacken and you gawk at him with wide eyes.

it felt so good finally being able to talk back to you, and in a way that you understood him too. rafayel picks this over ‘glub! glub! glub!’ anyday.

you looked around the room cautiously, before your eyes landed back on rafayel.

no one really knew that you spent your nights telling your baby fishy little bedtime stories.

…not unless this man in your room was fifi himself. it was a secret solely kept between you and fifi.

…still, it wouldn't hurt to double check, right?

“oh yeah? tell me something about fifi then.” you challenged, crossing your arms over your chest. you still felt doubtful over this whole situation. “anything at all.”

i mean, it wasn't everyday that you got to see your fish turn into a grown man (that was also naked, you observed), now a head taller than you.

rafayel smirked at your demand. oh boy, where should he start? he had many, many juicy secrets that he could spill to you. ones that he knew were only shared between you and your beloved fishy (him) in these very four walls.

but he was determined to embarrass the hell out of you, so he was thinking what exactly was the most embarrassing moment you've ever told him.

maybe he should start with that one time you started weeping your eyes out in front of his tank because you thought he was sick and about to die since he wasn't eating the kibbles you poured into his tank? (you were overfeeding him).

or perhaps that one time you told him you accidentally broke your mom's jewellery box while trying on her earrings and blamed it all on the maid instead?

oh. he couldn't forget the countless amounts of times you fell asleep sprawled over the study table, your hair looking as neat as a bird’s nest, drool escaping from the corner of your lips and dripping onto the sleeve of your nightgown as you snored the night away.

but the most memorable one of them all was…

“...remember that time when you tried to cut a piece of strawberry cake and dump it into my tank?” rafayel questioned, a smirk appearing on his lips as his eyebrow quirked upwards, anticipating the kind of reaction you’d give.

the way your eyes widened in horror and the tips of your ears started to tint in a dark red hue was enough for rafayel to conclude that he had won this round.

“only fifi would know that…” you mumbled out in utter disbelief. was this man standing in front of you really your pet fish of three months?

“exactly.” rafayel puffed out his chest proudly at your words. “but if you’re not convinced, i can tell you about that time when you tried to bring my fishtank to your bed so you could hug me to sleep—”

oh. not that. you desperately cut rafayel off mid-sentence.

“stop! stop, stop!” your face felt hot, as if you just ran a whole marathon with no breaks in between.

there was an awkward and tense silence lingering in the air, with you looking at your pet fish dead in the eyes.

“s.. so it really is you, fifi…” you managed to mutter out, albeit still in disbelief that your pet fish was now a grown man a head taller than you.

rafayel doesn’t have it in him to break the devastating piece of news to you that his name was actually ‘rafayel’ before you came along.

“affirmative.” fifi— or, rafayel, nodded his head without a beat of hesitation.

you both then proceeded to awkwardly stare at each other without a word, waiting for each other to break the tense silence.

eventually, rafayel was the one that broke the silence.

“so…” he sheepishly rubbed the nape of his neck, feeling like a fish out of the water (literally and figuratively). “has the shock died down yet?” he asked, hoping you were calm enough to have a proper conversation with him.

you blinked and glanced back at the broken fish tank a couple of times to make sure that rafayel was not some kind of crazy hallucination stemming from your lack of sleep recently.

“well, not really.”

“good enough for me.” rafayel casually bent down and picked up the weapons you used for your assassination attempt (your books and polar bear plushie), making his way to your study table to put the books back where they belong.

“i know you probably have a lot of questions, your highness,” rafayel’s gentle voice filled the room’s silence once again. “but i, too, don’t have the answers to them. i hope your highness can forgive me.”

he briefly glanced at you from his peripheral vision, a faint and apologetic smile ghosting his lips while he slotted the books back into the shelf.

you were still standing in the middle of the room, your eyes following rafayel’s figure while he was putting back your books. you still had the dumbfounded and surprised look from this whole ordeal.

when rafayel caught sight of you meekly nodding your head in silent agreement to his words, he took it as a sign to continue speaking.

“since you’re free tomorrow, how about your highness help a fishy out to find a way to turn me back?” he asked with a chuckle, making a final stop to your bed and gently placing your polar bear down by the pillows, now reunited with the rest of your fuzzy friends.

“how’d you know i’m—”

oh, that’s right. you told fifi at the start of this week that you had tomorrow to yourself. the realisation that you spent your nights practically telling this man (in his fish form) the a to z’s about your life started to settle in, coupled with embarrassment.

“oh.. right..” the corners of your lips twitched into an uncomfortable smile, trying to keep your cool despite the absurd situation unfolding before your very eyes.

“also, do you mind if i borrow a hoodie of yours or something? walking around with only a skimpy towel around my waist is a little uncomfortable.”

“ack!”

before you could protest, rafayel strutted towards your wardrobe and began rummaging through it like a stray mouse in search of a slab of cheese.

attempting to recollect your composure, you stammered out a remark in hopes to gain back some sort of control.

“h..hey! is this how you act in someone else’s bedchamber?”

rafayel halted his scavenger hunt for a brief moment.

“… i’ll remember for next time.”

…and he’s back to digging through your wardrobe for one of your oversized hoodies.

in the end, rafayel settled with one of your gray hoodies coupled with a pair of sweatpants he miraculously could fit in.

“what’s this?”

a look of confusion washed over his face as the fish stepped out of your bathroom, finally properly clothed.

his eyes were glued to the unfamiliar scene before him. a thick woven quilt was spread across the carpeted floor not far away from your bedframe, accompanied by two pillows and a neatly folded but thin blanket sitting on top of it.

“your new bed for the night.”

your response was as casual as inviting a friend over for a sleepover.

you gave his new bed a few soft pats, a gesture to coax him over, before making your way back to your own cozy haven.

“since you don’t fit in a fish tank anymore, i figured we have to come up with an alternative.”

rafayel watched as you tucked yourself into bed and fluffed up your pillows, getting ready to drift to dreamscape anytime from this point forward.

“yeah, well what if your maids see me?” his voice was full of skepticism as he approached his new bed, lifting up the blanket to fit into the warm cocoon.

“then i can tell them that you’re fifi.”

one of rafayel’s eyebrows quirked up in doubt and a hint of amusement.

“and will they buy it?”

“no.”

“…”

well, that was reassuring.

rafayel’s head was resting against the pillows now, completely unimpressed with your response while also trying to get used to sleeping outside of the water.

“well, but that’s something we’ll both deal with tomorrow.” you laughed nervously, leaning back against the plush pillows and turning your body so that you were laying on your side; facing rafayel with a faint smile ghosting your lips.

staring into your eyes like this made rafayel’s heart swell in an odd way. he didn’t know exactly how to put it to words, but the atmosphere of your bedroom felt dangerously intimate right now.

in fact, way too intimate for an owner and her pet fish to be having.

rafayel was no fool— he could tell how you seemed to be holding back more now that he had taken the form of a human. how the gaze you directed towards him still held a hint of love and affection amidst all of your other mixed emotions. you looked at him as if nothing had changed between the two of you, like he was still that tiny fish you had brought back home (kidnapped) three months ago.

“yeah… we should get some rest. we’ll be ransacking our brains a lot tomorrow.” rafayel agreed with a nod of his head, breaking eye contact first by turning his head to look up at the ceiling, trying to get rid of the dangerously growing intimacy dancing between the two of you.

his arm slid beneath his head to get into a more comfortable position for himself, still in disbelief that he was actually a human now.

he tried. keyword, tried to ignore the lingering feeling of not being able to bury his little fishy body in his favourite coral reef to fall asleep, and instead having to settle with sleeping on the cold hard ground with a paper-thin blanket that barely reached to the tip of his toes.

but in the end, the thought still greatly bothered him.

“tell me a bedtime story.”

…the words flew out of his mouth before rafayel could even comprehend what he was saying.

“i beg your pardon?” your expression morphed into one of astonishment.

“what? don’t you always go on and on about your day in front of my fishtank?” rafayel scoffed, turning his head back to face you. he had been kept awake against his will, forced to listen to your endless ramblings ever since you first kidnapped him.

he had grown so accustomed to your excited life updates that it was part of his daily routine now. rafayel always relied on your storytelling to help him get sleepy and prepare for bedtime, and he definitely wasn’t going to let this routine stop tonight just because he had grown a pair of legs out of thin air.

“… how about you tell me a bedtime story this time, fifi?”

your soft voice almost made rafayel wonder if he misheard what you had just said.

“hah, me? as if i have any tales that would fascinate you.” rafayel was quick to dismiss the idea of telling you a story.

one, bedtime storytelling was your thing. it always has been, and it always will be. as a fish, rafayel was habituated to just listening. i mean, he was a fish, there wasn’t much he could say to you in the first place. asking him for a sudden role reversal to play as the storyteller was beyond his expertise and comfort zone.

and two, his life out in the seas wasn’t as interesting or fascinating as whatever you were expecting.

or in other words, rafayel had no stories to tell in the first place.

“oh come on, i’m sure there’s some interesting stories about your life before you started living here.” you continued to persuade him further, trying to give him a metaphorical nudge to get him to open up.

rafayel really couldn’t resist when you talked to him in that soft and persuasive tone. you might as well grow a pair of fins and live in the ocean as a siren with how easily you allured him to obey your words.

“fine, fine, let me think of something,” the fish grumbled, his eyebrows furrowing together as he dug through his memories for anything worth mentioning to you.

entertaining a princess was hard work— rafayel was finally starting to understand the pressure of being in the presence of a princess like yourself. it was like there was an invisible expectation for him to uphold. one that was unspoken, but still anticipated in a way.

“does me being chased by an octopus sound entertaining enough for you, your highness?”

the way your smile grew, and your eyes held a hint of curiosity made rafayel let out a breath he didn’t even realise he had been holding.

so that was how he began telling you about the instance where he was chased by an octopus back when he was still adventuring around in the stray waters.

rafayel’s storytelling skills wasn’t top tiered as compared to yours. his story began awkward, his tone unnatural. this was not his forte, so he was basically a fish out of the water (once again, literally and figuratively).

however, the sounds of your soft giggles, hums of acknowledgement and occasional small nods of your head served to be the main catalyst for him to improve as the story progressed.

by the time the story reached its climax, he sounded more confident and sure of himself. he also was more natural when speaking and somehow, without even realising it, managed to lull you to dreamscape.

“...seriously? just as i was at the good part too.” rafayel muttered, feigning mild irritation when he saw that your eyes were closed, facial features relaxed, along with your breathing deep and slow.

rafayel let out a defeated sigh, lightly shaking his head before he turned his head to face back towards the ceiling again.

he finally understood how you always managed to fall asleep so quickly after telling him about your day— talking in such an excessive manner was… tiring. and now, he was feeling the growing fatigue about to consume him too.

he briefly snuck a glance at your sleeping form through his peripheral vision, the corners of his lips gently tugging upwards into a smile.

rafayel’s mind was tired, but his heart was filled to the brim with nothing but affection. affection that you had been showering him with for the past three months.

“no matter what form i take, you’ll still love me just the same, huh?”

he wasn't expecting an answer. he didn't need your verbal response to confirm his thoughts in the first place. the facts were as clear as day before his very eyes.

his vision was getting blurry, his breathing slowing down and his eyes feeling heavier with each blink.

rafayel vaguely remembered letting out one final whisper before everything fell to the darkness.

“…at least now i can finally tell you that i love you too, princess.”

all rights reserved © miclipse 2024. do not repost, plagiarize, copy, modify or translate my works on any platforms.

[ckret2]

A leaked list of some of the exciting upcoming content from The Book of Bill:

The pyramids of Giza ranked from most to least sexy.

Winning lottery numbers. He does not say which game they're for.

Three pages of Bill practicing blackletter calligraphy so that he can write the fancy-looking "The Book of Bill" on the cover. (Meant to tear those pages out before submitting book to publisher.)

A section where he implies that all your headcanons about him are stupid. Yes, your headcanons specifically. If you compare your copy of the book to a friend's, these sections will have different text. He insults all headcanons equally, even the ones that contradict each other.

A long, rambling story about a funny thing that he saw at a party in the Nightmare Realm, but he keeps getting distracted gossiping about the embarrassing love affairs and crimes against reality the partygoers have committed. Not a single one of these characters has ever been mentioned before or ever will be again. He gets so distracted he never finishes the original funny story. He was clearly drunk when he wrote this section.

A pet care sheet on how to keep a pet axolotl. All of the information is extremely wrong.

Some of the other dimensions he's tried and failed to conquer. He keeps insisting that all the failures were somebody else's fault. It's extremely obvious that they're his fault.

A photograph of a vivisected elephant, for some reason.

A phone number written on a cocktail napkin that Bill insists would be really funny for all the readers to prank call. It leads to the desk phone of the director of the CIA. 

Bill claims he definitely totally knew that Stan was disguised as Ford the whole time, he only played along to trick the Pines back, and then he quickly changes the topic.

A page of Bill's original poetry. It's all unintelligible symbols. It will take 27 years for somebody to crack the code. They're all gory but juvenile limericks.

A cocktail recipe. It will kill you.

Bill's original version of the portal blueprints that he copied to give Ford, with Bill's handwritten annotations. One part of the blueprints is labeled "component that will accidentally destroy the universe. REMEMBER NOT TO INCLUDE THIS COMPONENT IN SIXER'S COPY!!" He underlined this twice. If this page is compared to the portal blueprints in Journal 3, it's clear that Bill included that component in Ford's copy.

A personality quiz to help you meet your ideal sleep paralysis demon.

Bill's baby pictures. He looks exactly the same, except his bow tie and top hat are too big.

Bill reveals that he thought the llama symbol on the zodiac wheel referred to that farmer guy on the edge of town, and he was super confused to see Pacifica there.

Multiple pages scattered through the book about Bill's amazing powers, his brilliant and fun plans for our dimension, and all the cool favors he's willing and able to do for his friends and followers. All these pages end with a passive-aggressive aside about how somebody would have to be REALLY stupid to turn down an invitation to join Bill's crew, Stanford Pines—

A page labeled "My loyal servants and slaves!" filled with several hideous, oozing, nightmare-inducing Lovecraftian monsters, and one Mickey Mouse.

A self-portrait depicting Bill riding a rocket ship playing an electric guitar while rainbow lightning flashes all around him and money rains down from the sky.

A cynical, sneering tirade about how love is evolution's idiotic way of tricking primitive species into reproducing and how only simple-minded mortals who can't separate their true thoughts from their hormones fall for it. In the margins he's drawn a heart around the words "Bill Cipher +" a scribbled-out blot. The blot is completely unreadable. Despite this, the fandom will spend years debating the name underneath based on the size of the blot.

Extremely stupid "explanations" about various unsolved mysteries and crimes. In six years the world will discover one of them is accidentally correct and Alex Hirsch will get investigated by the FBI.

The book will be divided into four sections. Each section will begin with a big illuminated letter. In order, the four illuminated letters spell "F" "U" "C" "K".

[de4dlyniightshade]

꩜ LIFT YOUR EYES

꩜ pairing: spencer reid x afab!reader

꩜ rating: 18+, mdni!

꩜ word count: entirely too many. (9.3k;-;)

꩜ warnings/contains!: smut, virgin!spencer, sub!spencer, softdom!reader, loss of virginity, piv, handjob, mirror play(?), dacryphilia, slight body worship, pwp, unprotected piv(don't do that.), creampie, nervous spencer, marking, smidge of orgasm denial, praise, pet names, mention of and use of plan B, silly love confessions, no use of "y/n"!!, i think that's all

꩜ lyric: "lift those eyes, look into mine, cause i can guide you, i can guide you"

© to de4dlyniightshade. no translations/reposts!

[WARNING! - explicit sexual content! proceed at your own risk!]

꩜ A/N: this is proofread but i'm a moron and can't read so no promises🤷‍♀️ ALSO! be nice to me i haven't written a single thing in like a good few years</3

Spencer had been acting off ever since he had drunkenly revealed that he was still a virgin on one of your group nights out. Being a profiler had many benefits, and this was definitely one of them. He was more withdrawn from all of you, had been keeping to himself, and kept conversations to a minimum. He was pretty inconspicuous with the ways he did it, but you picked up on it immediately. You couldn't blame him; he had been backed into a corner by Derek and Garcia, pressing him for a sex story, but what they didn't expect was his answer to be that he didn't have any, with Spencer leaving shortly after, the whole atmosphere being unbearable for him.

You acted the same with him; of course, being a virgin was nothing to be ashamed of, and you didn't see him any differently; he was still Spencer, and honestly, it didn't surprise you; he certainly wasn't the type to sleep around or have one-night stands, and you were sure you would've heard of an ex-girlfriend by now, which you hadn't, not a single mention, so you put two and two together and just assumed the others would do the same, but unfortunately not.

If you were being entirely honest, the fact that Spencer was still a virgin only made you more attracted to him. You were already borderline infatuated with him, but this newfound information only heightened it. You didn't really know when your crush on him developed, but it developed rapidly, your small crush turning into an intense desire. You couldn't stop thinking about him, thinking about how easy he would be to render a babbling mess, how he would be so sensitive and reactive to every little touch, and how pretty he would sound moaning your name. You had to force yourself to shake your thoughts, trying to focus on what you were actually supposed to be doing, which was mundane work tasks, and it didn't help that Spencer somehow always ended up in your line of sight. 

You managed to push through the rest of the day without much more zoning out and you were packing up your things to go home for the night when Spencer approached you, stopping what you were doing to give him your attention. He seemed on edge, his body language was stiff, and he wouldn't look you in the eye. "Can I uh- , do you mind if I come over?" He spoke meekly, and honestly, if he'd been any quieter, he'd be whispering.

You just smiled, ignoring his strange behaviour, knowing there had to be a reasonable explanation that you'd soon find out. "Of course, what's the occasion?" You pulled your bag onto your shoulder, ready to leave with him without much question. You didn't want to turn him down considering the recent events, and you also just wouldn't. You loved hanging out with Spencer; he was a breath of fresh air, completely honest with you, and just great to be around.

"Oh uh no occasion, just haven't hung out in a while." He gave you that straight smile he did all the time, still avoiding your eyes for the most part. You hummed in response as you motioned for him to follow you, making your way to the elevator, Spencer following close behind, your joint footsteps echoing through the empty space, the two of you being some of the last people in the whole building, which was eerily quiet.

Spencer didn't say a word to you on the whole way down in the elevator or on the walk to your car, and still not a peep halfway through the car ride to your apartment, you decided to pry a little—not a lot, but just to see if he'd crack and spill whatever it was that was bothering him.

"what's up? You're an unusually quiet Spence." You took your eyes off the road very briefly to glance at him, seeing that he was in a world of his own, staring out of the window, your voice breaking whatever his train of thought was as he looked back at you with a dazed look on his face, taking a moment to process what you'd asked him.

"Nothing's up; why would something be up?" His tone wasn't defensive, like you were accusing him of something, which is yet another reason why you knew something was definitely up. There had never been a single time where someone had insinuated something was up with him and he didn't get defensive about it, but you just took his word; he clearly didn't want to talk about it, and you weren't going to force him to yet.

"No reason, Spence, just thought I'd ask." You flashed him a sweet smile, and he nodded, going back to completely ignoring your presence. Something was seriously going on with him; you just needed to figure out what it was. Honestly, it was eating you alive the whole way to your apartment. He had never been silent for such a long period of time in the entire time you'd known him, and it was unsettling.

Once you reached your apartment, you unlocked the door and shuffled in, switching on a light before locking your door behind you just to be safe. You hung your bag on your coatrack and shrugged off your jacket, Spencer doing the same, both of you removing your shoes in unison before you turned and made your way to your sofa. "Wanna watch a movie?" you asked as you plopped down on your designated corner of the couch, looking over at him and awaiting his response.

"Yeah, sure," Spencer smiled. Following suit to your sofa and sitting at the opposite end, you furrowed your brows at his choice of seat. He always sat in the middle when he was here. Always. As if all the other unusual behaviour wasn't evidence enough that something was going on with him. This certainly topped it off, which prompted you to begin your interrogation, ready to present your extensive evidence.

"Alright, Reid, out with it. What's going on with you?" You turned to face him, your elbow resting on the back of the sofa as you stared him down.

"Nothing's going on with me? What makes you think that there is?" His tone was defensive this time, but not in an aggressive way; more in an accused way. His sudden change from in the car only further proved your point.

"You've been nothing but weird since you came up to me; you were completely silent the whole way here, and when I asked in the car what was up, you weren't defensive, which you've never done before; you hate when people insinuate something is wrong; you also haven't looked me in the eye this whole time; and finally, you're sitting on the opposite end of the couch." You finished your rundown by flashing a smile at him and raising a brow. You knew he couldn't deny any of it because you knew he knew you were right. It was your job, after all.

"Alright, fine, you got me, but it's nothing, really." Spencer finally met your eyes, his expression unconvincing. It wasn't nothing, and you knew it, but you just couldn't work out what it was on your own. You were good, but not that good.

"stop lying! I know it's not nothing, Spence. C'mon you can tell me. Promise nothing you can say will phase me."You shuffled closer to him as you spoke, now sitting in his spot in the middle. The sudden closeness of your body to his putting him under pressure.

"I don't know how to say it," he said softly, eyes fixed on his lap as he fidgeted nervously. His behaviour only made you more desperate to hear what it was. You'd never seen him so nervous before, so you knew it had to be good whatever it was, and you knew he had to get it off his chest asap. You also didn't think you could handle him being so quiet for a minute longer.

"Ugh, c'mon, just spill it; the anticipation is killing me," you giggled, trying to make him feel at least a little more at ease so he'd just get it out already. Spencer sighed, mentally preparing himself as he mustered up the courage to say what he was thinking.

"Okay, alright, you can absolutely say no, and we'll never talk about this again. It's completely your choice, of course. I would never try to force you to do something you didn't want to do, y'know. I completely understand if you say no; I won't take it personally. I just thought I'd ask just in ca-" You cut off his rambling with a loud groan, reaching out to hold his face with your hands and forcing him to look at you.

"stop rambling. say it. right now, Spencer Reid." You both sat in silence for a moment before he took a deep breath, closing his eyes before he finally said it. His words rendered you completely speechless as it all made sense; no wonder he was a nervous wreck.

"Will you have sex with me?"

The words bounced around in your head like a ping pong ball, repeating over and over and over again as you just continued staring at him. He cracked his eyes open to see the dumbfounded expression on your face, immediately regretting ever considering asking as he moved to get up.

"I uh- forget it, I'm just gonna go," he said, making a beeline for your door as you continued to sit in silence, watching him grab his jacket before you squeezed your eyes shut, letting out a deep breath.

"I will," you said, opening your eyes again to see him completely still, back to you, so you couldn't see his face. The only reason you hesitated was because you weren't entirely sure that you were awake. You'd been daydreaming about a situation just like this one only hours prior, and when you realised that this was actually happening and Spencer Reid was actually asking if you'd have sex with him, you knew you couldn't turn him down; you'd be a fool to.

"you will?" Spencer finally turned to face you, his doe-eyes meeting yours. You smiled at his sweet expression; he looked almost excited, and you nodded. "Course I will, c'mere," you said nonchalantly as you patted the spot next to you, and he nervously padded back over, sitting next to you before you reached out to tuck his hair behind his ear, his eyes meeting yours again.

"Is this about the other night?" You kind of already knew it was, and you weren't going to take it personally if the only reason he was asking was so he wouldn't be a virgin anymore. It flattered you honestly, the fact he wanted it to be you, that he felt comfortable enough to ask you and allow you to take his virginity.

Spencer sighed, "Yeah, I mean- not entirely, partly—I just don't want to have to tell another person that I'm still a virgin, but I do think you're pretty, of course! I'm not just using you," you let him ramble, knowing he felt the need to explain himself most of the time. You couldn't help but smile at his behaviour; he was always so put together and professional, and now he was completely erratic and hardly making any sense.

"You think I'm pretty?" You teased, pulling your lip between your teeth. Spencer then realised what he'd said; unable to backtrack, he opted for scrambling to explain, "I-I mean, yeah, you're stereotypically attractive; most of the population would be objectively attracted to you just based on a visual first impression." You couldn't help but laugh at his flustered state, moving to run your hand through his hair, the physical affection making him relax slightly.

"Can I kiss you, Spence?" You mused, your fingertips stroking the hair behind his ear. You already knew the answer to your question, but you wanted him to tell you that you could, that he wanted you to, you wanted his consent through the whole experience, making sure that he knew he could tell you if there was something he didn't like or if he'd changed his mind.

Spencer let out a shaky breath, hesitating for a beat before replying. "Please," he practically whined, his voice airy, and you felt the air shift. A whole different atmosphere filled the room as you gently moved your hand to his cheek, turning his face to you. You smiled, just staring into his eyes for a moment before you slowly leaned in, placing an experimental kiss on his lips, and he immediately returned it, which was then followed by another and another before your gentle kisses became open-mouthed, sensual making out, your lips slotting perfectly into his as he tentatively placed his hand on your waist while you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and pressing your body to his, your actions causing him to moan quietly into your mouth. The sound was sweet, like music to your ears, and you wanted more.

You tugged on the hair at the nape of his neck lightly, eliciting another moan from him, the pretty sound vibrating against your lips before you ran your tongue across his plush bottom lip, and he immediately knew what you wanted, opening his mouth to allow you to slip your tongue in, the feeling of your warm tongue exploring his mouth making him let out a whimper as he allowed you to completely dominate him, the sound awakening something in you as you moaned into his mouth before you broke the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips, you quickly manoeuvred to straddle his lap, your skirt riding up your thighs, mere inches from exposing your underwear.

You began pressing open-mouthed kisses down Spencer's jaw and neck before you were stopped by the collar of his shirt. You pulled away, moving to take ahold of his tie before you hesitated, looking up at him. "Can I?" you asked, almost desperately. Spencer looked back at you, already with a lustful expression on his face, his lips swollen and red, his hair dishevelled, and his cheeks flushed pink.

He nodded eagerly as you still held his tie in your hand. "Ah, ah, words, honey." Honestly, you didn't need him to say it, but you definitely wanted him to. The idea of him having to outright tell you what he wanted or what you could do to him made your stomach flip.

"Y-yes," you saw his Adam's apple bob as he gulped, a sly smile spreading across your lips as you leaned in to place a few stray kisses on his neck, stopping just below his ear. "Good boy," your voice was sultry and teasing as you loosened his tie, his breath hitched at your words, eyes closed as he let you do whatever you pleased.

You discarded his tie on the floor, moving to unbutton his shirt, kissing lower and lower with each button before kissing your way back up to his collarbones as you started kitten licking at his skin, hesitating before biting down—not too hard, of course, as not to startle him too much. Spencer gasped at the feeling, a whimper following after. His pretty sounds were so much better when they weren't muffled, and you had to resist the urge to just unzip his pants and pull your underwear to the side then and there.

"You sound so pretty, baby." You spoke into his skin, flicking your tongue out to lick his neck, your words making him whine. "P-please," he mewled. His voice was high-pitched and whiny as he pleaded with you to do something, anything.

"Please, what, baby? Tell me what you want." You placed a few kisses on his cheek before pulling away, your hands resting on either side of his neck and your thumb stroking his skin. He was a nervous wreck, muscles tense and eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere but your eyes. You let out an airy laugh while he gulped, trying to muster up the courage to tell you what he wanted. He was adorable, and it made you want to croon at him and take care of him, doing whatever you pleased without him having a say, but you knew you couldn't. This was about him, and you wanted his first time to be memorable in a good way.

"Aw, baby, it's okay; just relax; tell me what you want; I won't say no; this is about you and making you feel good, okay?" Your tone was soft and almost motherly as you caressed his cheek, trying to ease his nerves as best you could. Spencer looked at you with puppy eyes, his lips slightly pouting as he took a shaky breath, trying to force himself to relax.

"T-touch me, please." He whined, eyes still fixed on yours; you could've melted right there. The sight of his pleading eyes, swollen lips, messy hair, flushed cheeks, and bare torso beneath was enough to make you let out a muffled moan, surging forward to lock your lips with his in a desperate kiss, Spencer returning it with equal desperation.

You trailed your hands down his body, stopping to stroke his slim waist. His skin was hot to the touch and silky smooth, and the sensation of your hands caressing his skin made him whine into your mouth. You let your hand trail lower, stopping at the clear bulge in his pants. Your touch was feather light, teasing just a little to hear him whine again. You pulled away, watching him chase your lips before you fully palmed him over his clothes. The sudden stimulation made him gasp, jutting his hips upward into your hand for more.

"God, you're so fucking pretty, you know that Spence?" You rasped out, continuing to tease him, knowing that the material separating your touch from where he wanted you would get him hot and bothered. Your words made him whine and mumble something inaudible; your curiosity piqued.

"hm? What'd you say, baby?" You spoke softly, continuing to palm Spencer over his pants. His head was tipped back, resting on the back of your couch, his eyes closed and lips parted as he let out laboured breaths.

"I'm not," Spencer's words made you stop dead, the loss of stimulation making him open his eyes to look at you, only to find you already glaring at him, "What did you just say?" Your tone was stern, and eye contact was unfaltering as Spencer began to sweat under the pressure of your eyes and demanding tone.

"I'm not pretty," he murmured, shrinking in on himself and averting your gaze. You took his chin between your fingers and tilted his head to face you again. "Don't you ever say that to me again, Spencer," you ordered, watching him swallow thickly at your sudden change in demeanour.

"W-why?" he asked meekly, a doe-eyed, innocent expression on his face. You raked your hand through his hair, leaving a silence in the room before you answered his stupid question.

"Because, Spencer, you are pretty. Let me show you." You stood up from his lap as you spoke, Spencer gaping up at you with a confused expression on his features. His confusion was quickly squashed when you extended your hand to him, placing his hand in yours without question and standing up from your sofa, allowing you to lead him through your apartment to your bedroom. Once there, you kicked the door closed behind you before trailing Spencer to the side of your bed, pushing his shoulders down for him to sit on the edge before you switched on your lamp.

You moved to press a kiss to his lips, which didn't last nearly long enough for him, making him whine as you pulled away. You just smirked, moving to the side to get onto the bed with him, revealing the mirror directly in front of him, and he was about to ask why when you moved to kneel behind him, your hands smoothing up his back and stopping at his shoulders. You placed a kiss on his covered skin before you took his shirt in your fingertips, sliding it off of him, gently kissing his exposed skin as you did. Spencer assisted you in removing it before you balled the material up and discarded it on your floor.

You continued to kiss his soft skin, kitten licking and nibbling as you went, stopping at the junction at the base of his neck, looking up through your lashes to make eye contact with him in the mirror as you marked his skin, suckling and biting harshly, the sensation of your hot mouth on him making him whimper, feeling you smile against his skin as he did.

Once you were satisfied with marking his neck and shoulder, you shifted back, spreading your legs. Spencer whined at the loss of your body heat before you tugged him back into your chest, his head against your shoulder. Spencer watched you trail your hand down his body through the mirror, stopping at his waistband and bringing your other hand around his waist, starting to slowly and teasingly unbuckle his belt. Spencer swallowed in anticipation, his breathing picking up as you unbuttoned and unzipped his pants.

You trailed your fingertip over the outline of his hard length over his boxers, watching his brows snap together as his eyes fell closed, his mouth dropping open, a moan falling from his lips, the thin material of his underwear making the feeling much stronger than before. His reactions only egged you on, fully palming him and beginning to stroke him through the material.

"A-ah-p-please" Spencer mewled, reaching back to grip your thigh. You smiled, leaning your head into his, Spencer opening his eyes to see what you were doing. His eyes glazed as they connected with yours in the mirror.

"Don't look at me, look at you," you whispered into his ear. Spencer followed your direction, his eyes gazing at his own reflection. The sight was so foreign to him; he'd never seen himself like this; it made him feel vulnerable and shy, a blush blooming on his skin.

"Good boy, now lift your hips for me, honey," you breathed, hooking your thumbs into the elastic of his waistband. Spencer swallowed, letting out a shaky breath before he complied, raising his hips enough to allow you to tug his underwear and pants down to his mid-thighs, his cock springing free and hitting his pelvis. The sight made you pull your lips between your teeth, Spencer sucking in a breath and screwing his eyes closed at the cold air hitting his hot, sensitive skin.

"God spence, look at you, so fucking pretty, even got a pretty cock," you rasped in his ear, your lewd words making him gasp and blush a deep pink. You pressed a kiss to his cheek as he cracked his eyes open, watching you run your hands up and down his sides, the sensation tickling slightly, making him squirm against you.

"Can I touch you, baby?" You asked the question as if you didn't already know the answer; it was obvious, of course, but you still wanted to hear him say it. The question made Spencer roll his hips into nothing, subconsciously nuzzling his head into yours.

"Y-yes, please," he breathed, his eyes still fixed on his own reflection, watching as your hand trailed lower, painfully close to where he needed you, but you stopped just before your hand reached his length, drawing figure eights into the smooth skin of his pelvis. Spencer whined at your teasing, jerking his hips into your touch, urging you to touch him where he needed you, but you wouldn't; instead, you just let out a breathy laugh in his ear.

"I'll give you what you want if you do one thing for me, baby, just one. Can you do that?" Your voice was silky smooth, your light touch still on his skin, and Spencer nodded eagerly, "Yes!, yeah, anything! I'll do anything!" His voice was needy and whiny as he spoke, his head tipping back onto your shoulder as his eyes fluttered closed.

"Look at yourself and tell me you're a pretty boy," you said into his ear, your lips grazing his skin as you did. A smirk spread across your face when you heard his breath hitch in his throat, eyes opening to see you already looking at him, waiting patiently.

Spencer locked his eyes on himself, breathing deeply as his tongue darted out to wet his lips, his skin heating up, a pink tint spreading from his cheeks all the way down to his chest. You could see the hesitation in his eyes. You were inching your hand just slightly closer to remind him of his reward, mumbling "go on" under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

"I-I'm a p-pretty boy," Spencer stammered, his voice cracking and shaky as he spoke, instantly tearing his eyes away from his reflection, blushing impossibly harder, and his cheeks turning cherry red. You smiled wide, kissing his hot cheek. "That's my good boy, my pretty boy," you praised, finally taking his length into your hand. Spencer immediately let out a breath that formed into a whimper, relaxing against your body as you slowly dragged your hand up his shaft. Spencer let out a moan at the slightest stimulation, making you wonder what he'd sound like when you picked up the pace and stopped teasing.

You soon found out when you began languidly stroking his cock, not too fast but definitely not as painfully slow as you had been so far. Spencer was twitching in your arms, his hips stuttering into your touch while he let out strangled moans of pure pleasure. The whole experience was completely new to him; he'd never felt this good before, and it was going to his head, making him babble incoherently.

"Feel good, pretty boy?" You mused, your thumb rubbing his slit, and Spencer's hand flying to grip yours that rested on his hip, squeezing hard as he shuddered and whined, his back arching slightly. "S-so good, feel so g-good, d-don't stop, p-please don't s-stop," Spencer's voice sounded teary as he rambled, your hand continuing to stroke his length and your pace fastening slightly, drawing more of his sweet sounds from him.

"I wasn't planning on stopping, baby, don't you worry, I wanna see you cum," you finished your sentence by circling your palm over his tip, the action pulling a choked sob from him as tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to spill over any second. Your eyes were fixated on his reflection, mesmerised by the way his body writhed against you, his hips rutting gently into your hand and his mouth agape as his head rested on your shoulder, the close proximity of your faces having him practically moaning in your ear.

"O-oh, my god! f-fuck" Spencer moaned loudly, his hips rutting into your hand more harshly as tears spilled down his pink cheeks, quiet gasps falling from his lips. You could feel the dampness pooling in your underwear as you watched Spencer fall apart in your arms. He looked irresistible as he gripped your bedsheets with one hand and your hand in the other. His entire body was shaking and twitching as he got closer and closer to cumming.

"I-I-think I-" Spencer could hardly form a sentence, at least every second word being interrupted by whimpers and sobs. You hushed him, understanding exactly what he was trying to say and opting to stroke him faster, tightening your hold just slightly. The change made Spencer arch his back into your touch, a choked moan filling the room, his hips uncontrollably rolling into your hand as he chased his release.

"F-fuck, I'm gonna c-cum, please p-please d-don't stop, s-so close." His voice was high-pitched and whiny as he lost control, his body spasming as he let out choked sobs. When you felt his cock twitch in your hand, you stopped at the base and squeezed tightly, preventing him from cumming. The sudden denial and loss made him cry out, and a non-stop stream of tears ran down his face and neck. He became a babbling mess, unable to form a sentence, just begging over and over again for you to let him cum.

"Shh, baby, shh, I'm going to let you cum Don't worry, baby, just do something for me, okay?" You slipped your hand from his to smooth his hair off his forehead, the sweat that had gathered making it stick to his skin. Spencer opened his eyes, his lip quivering and his waterline still teary. "p-please please, a-anything! j-just p-please l-let m-me, n-need it so b-bad," Spencer sobbed. The sound broke your heart, hearing your pretty baby so distressed.

"Watch yourself cum for me, baby." Your voice was low as you spoke in his ear, your hand absentmindedly stroking his hair, unknowingly soothing him slightly. Spencer nodded erratically, shifting in your hold as his gaze fixed on himself, his heart hammering in his chest. The anticipation of finally getting his release made his whole body start short-circuiting.

"Such a good boy for me, baby," you praised, releasing your hold on his shaft and drawing back to your steady pace. The abrupt stimulation had Spencer moaning almost pornographically, and the sound was music to your ears, knowing you were the only person to have ever made him sound and feel this way, only making it so much more exhilarating.

Spencer's breathing became exasperated as he tried to say something, his voice failing him completely, but you knew what he was trying to say, his cock twitching in your hand, giving it away. Spencer's eyes were trained on his reflection—something so sinfully mesmerising about watching himself and seeing himself this way—not many people have the chance to see themselves so vulnerable.

"P-please, c-can I?" Spencer mewled. You think if you said no, he might've broken down right then and would never forgive you. You weren't going to, of course. You wanted this as much as he did, and as soon as you whispered those three golden words, it was all over.

"Cum for me."

Spencer cried out as he came, his eyes rolling back into his head. His orgasm hit him harder than it ever had before, his mind going completely blank. cum painted his abdomen and your hand in spurts, the thick white liquid coating his skin as you milked him of every drop, working him through his orgasm. You only stopped when he let out a whine of protest at the overstimulation and tried to squirm away from you.

"So proud of you, baby; you did so so well, my good boy," you said sweetly as you wrapped your arms around him, hugging him close to you while nuzzling your head into his and pressing gentle kisses to his hair.

You sat in silence while Spencer came down from his high, allowing him time to get his breath back. The sound was the only thing filling the room. You placed a chaste kiss on his shoulder before you spoke, "You know we don't have to have sex tonight if you don't feel up to it, baby; we can just cuddle; I won't mind." Your chin rested on his shoulder, eyes closed, while Spencer peeled his open, turning his head to look at you fully instead of through the mirror.

"No, I want to; I wanna at least try to return the favour." His voice was raspy as he spoke, all the noise he'd been making taking a small toll. You tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear, the same strand that seemed to be perpetually out of place, your expression softening at his words, "Spence, you don't have to return any favors; I told you at the beginning that this was about you, not me." You knew Spencer was persistent and wasn't going to give in easily, or even at all, but at least you offered.

"I want to, for you...and for me," Spencer averted your eyes, shy at admitting wanting this for his own trivial needs. His conformation that he did in fact want this and he wasn't just doing it for you because he felt guilty was convincing enough for you as you pressed a kiss to his lips. The sudden action caught him slightly off guard, but he quickly recovered, kissing you back with fervour, the anticipation of what was coming making him borderline intoxicated.

You broke this kiss, tugging Spencer's bottom lip with your teeth as you did, the action making him whine and chase your lips, desperate for more, but you just giggled, pulling away from him completely as you shifted up the bed, his eyes fixed on you as you moved to begin slowly unbuttoning your shirt. Your pace was painfully slow, giving him a bit of a striptease, the way he licked his lips and scanned every inch of skin that was revealed only egging you on further.

Once you popped the last button open, you slipped the material off your body, throwing it on the floor alongside his shirt. The sight of your chest, although covered by your bra, had the blood rushing straight to Spencer's cock, his eyes too busy on your boobs to notice you clearly staring at him until you spoke.

"Wanna touch them?" It could've just as well been a rhetorical question, with the answer already blatantly obvious. Spencer nodded eagerly; his keenness was endearing, and it had you squeezing your thighs together and biting down your lip.

You furrowed your brows when Spencer sat unmoving until you realised what he was waiting for; "C'mere then, baby" Your go ahead had him closing the space between you at light speed, and your eyes trailed down to see him fully hard again. It was a lewd sight, his pants pulled down just enough to free his length, his stomach still covered with his release, and his neck, shoulder, and collarbones lined with dark red and purple bruises.

Spencer noticed your staring and whined in embarrassment, feeling exposed while you were still mostly covered. You couldn't help but chuckle lightly. "You want me to take my skirt off? Will that make you feel better, baby?" Your voice dripped with honey, and the premise of seeing you in just your bra and underwear made Spencer's brain turn to mush.

"Y-yeah, please," he rasped, his eyes scanning your body from top to bottom, watching as you moved to kneel and reached behind you to unzip your skirt, pushing it down to your thighs before you leaned back on your elbows, your eyes connecting with Spencer's as you concealed a smirk.

"Help me take it off, pretty boy." You fake pouted and fluttered your lashes. Spencer's breath hitched in his throat, letting out a shaky breath before leaning over you, taking your skirt in his hands and slowly slipping it down and off your legs, dropping it on the floor before his eyes trailed back up to your covered crotch, attempting to swallow the lump in his throat at the sight.

"Fuck c'mere pretty boy," you leaned up onto your hand, placing the other on the side of his face and surging forward, pressing your lips to his with fervour. The kiss was sloppy and desperate as you pulled Spencer down to lay on top of you, taking his hand in yours and guiding it to your chest. He moaned into your mouth at the feeling of your soft breast in his hand, starting to knead and massage gently.

"Can I- can I take it off? please?" Spencer breathed, breaking the kiss, his hair falling around his face as he looked down at you. You bit down on your lip and nodded, arching your back off the sheets to allow his hands to slip around your body, fumbling with the clasps for a moment before they clicked open, your bra going slack on your chest. You weren't even surprised that he was also good at that.

Spencer let out a breath, watching you take the straps in your fingers and slowly pull them down your arms, finally revealing your bare breasts to him, his mouth gaping at the sight, seeing your nipples harden in the cold air, perking up and practically begging for him to suck on them, so he did, taking you by surprise when he leaned down, taking your nipple into his mouth without hesitation, wasting no time with testing the waters.

"Oh, fuck baby," you mewled, placing your hand on the back of his head and running your hand through his hair as he continued to suckle on your hardened nipple, letting out muffled moans into the soft flesh while he kneaded the other. You arched your back, pushing your chest into his face as he turned his attention to the other nipple, giving equal attention to both while you let out sighs of pleasure, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Spencer released your nipple once he was satisfied before burying his face in the crook of your neck, the movement causing his cock to press into your thigh, whimpering into your skin at the feeling. "Take your pants off, baby," you rasped in his ear, kissing his hair. Spencer immediately complied, pulling away and standing up from your bed before tugging his pants and underwear down his legs and stepping out of them, leaving them crumpled on the floor.

When Spencer turned around to climb back onto the bed, he was met with you completely naked, holding your underwear out to him on your foot, your lip pulled between your teeth. You giggled at his reaction, knowing that he'd be completely awestruck, not expecting you to be bare in front of him.

"Keep 'em if you like," you said teasingly, a sly smile on your lips as Spencer took the garment, dropping it on the floor along with the rest of your clothes and watching as you slowly spread your legs, completely exposing yourself to him, watching as his mouth dropped open at the view of your glistening pussy, feeling a little boost to his ego knowing that he was the reason you were wet.

"Are you going to come and fuck me or not, pretty boy?" You purred, watching him quickly climb back onto your bed, moving to be leaning over you again.

You could hear his heavy breaths, his body tense, nerves wracking his body under the pressure. You tucked his hair behind his ear once again, smiling sweetly at him. "Don't be nervous, baby; I'll tell you if you're hurting me or doing something wrong." Your words eased him slightly as he shifted closer, kneeling between your thighs, his eyes scanning your body from your face to your chest down to your waiting entrance.

Spencer didn't notice his breathing getting out of control again until you sprung up, taking his face into your hands, a worried expression on your face. "Hey, hey, breathe, baby, just breathe. You're okay. What's going on?" You tried to calm his breathing before it became a panic attack. Your soft touch and gentle words worked enough for him to talk to you. "I-i c-can't-" Spencer stuttered, avoiding your eyes and trying to pull away, but you just secured your arms around his neck, keeping him close.

"Yes, you can Spence; if you don't want to, that's completely different, but if you're just worried about doing it wrong, then you're not going anywhere." Your words made Spencer lift his gaze to your eyes, scanning your expression to see that you were completely sincere. He hesitated for a moment before leaning in to kiss you, initiating it for the first time. His kiss was gentle and slow, and you returned the same treatment, slowing the pace down to his comfort zone before you went any further.

You were the first to break the kiss for air, both your chests heaving and Spencer's nerves seeming to have subsided. You pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his lips before looking up at him, his eyes already fixed on yours. "You ready, baby?" You smiled, your hand resting on the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I am now." With that, you lay back again, watching Spencer smooth his hands down your inner thighs, urging your legs to open wider before wrapping them around and tugging you closer to him with no effort. The action made you gasp, feeling butterflies in your stomach.

Spencer placed a hand on your hip before his head snapped up to look at you. "I don't have any protection, do you?" He had a slightly panicked expression, and you just laughed, realising that you, in fact, didn't. "Just pull and pray," you said it so nonchalantly as if it weren't completely irresponsible and unreliable.

"But that doesn't prevent you from getting pregnant, and it's stupid, are you sure? I could go to the st-" You cut him off with a loud groan, glaring up at him. "Spencer, I swear to God, please just fuck me." You weren't usually so forward, but right now you were borderline sexually frustrated with how much he was putting it off.

Spencer gulped, nodding as you sighed in relief, watching as he moved to stroke his length a few times, taking a deep breath before leaning over you, pushing his hips forward enough for his tip to meet your entrance. You gasped at the contact, rolling your hips up and causing his length to dip into your cunt. Spencer immediately pushed further in at the feeling, his jaw falling slack as your walls started surrounding him, wet and warm and perfect, his hips subconsciously rutting forward into you.

"F-fuck s-sorry," Spencer apologised, stopping his movements to make sure he hadn't hurt you. You responded by wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer until he was bottomed out. A strangled moan ripped from his throat at the feeling of your soft walls wrapped around him. "O-oh, my god," Spencer breathed, his eyes screwed shut as he tried not to move, knowing that he had to wait and let you adjust to the stretch, which you were thankful for because it definitely was a stretch, making sure to mask the pain so he wouldn't worry. You lay quietly while Spencer let out laboured breaths, the hot air fanning your skin as his head rested on your chest.

Instead of telling him he could move You rolled your hips upward, Spencer moaning into your skin as you did, pulling out slightly before pushing back in, both of you moaning in unison. Spencer lifted his head from your chest and looked up at you, silently asking for reassurance. "Keep doing that, baby; that's good," you breathed, slinging your arms around his neck.

Spencer took your waist into his hands, continuing to roll his hips into yours at a steady pace, but you could tell he was holding back, trying so hard to be gentle and slow for you. It was endearing, of course, but you needed more. "F-faster, please" you moaned out, encouraging him to just give in and fuck you how he wanted to, how you needed him to.

He fastened his pace at your plea, his hips snapping into yours as he dropped his head to the crook of your neck, moaning desperately into your skin. "F-fuck! S-so good, pretty boy," you gasped, gripping his shoulders harshly, your nails leaving crescent moons in his skin. Spencer didn't even notice the stinging; the feeling of your pussy clenching around him overwhelming his senses as he moaned and whimpered into your neck.

"O-oh god, s-so warm," Spencer whined, gripping your waist tighter as he rutted his cock into you harder, his tip brushing that perfect spot inside you, the feeling making you gasp, nails running down his back, leaving red streaks across his skin. "R-right there! F-fuck Spencer, don't stop!" you moaned wantonly, back arching off the sheets as the sound of skin against skin filled the room.

Spencer's movements were slightly clumsy and out of rhythm, but the way he filled you and moaned your name made up for it completely. You felt his hips begin to stutter slightly, knowing that he wasn't going to last much longer; it didn't bother you at all. Your expectations for how long a virgin would last weren't exactly high; you didn't even expect to finish, but when Spencer moved his hand from your waist down to tentatively rub circles on your clit, you felt a familiar knot forming.

"Fuck, baby, that's it!" You moaned loudly, Spencer's fingers working faster at your praise, reassuring him that he was doing good. You felt tears prick your eyes, the sensation of Spencer's cock dragging against your sensitive walls and his fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit making your mind go numb, clinging to him as you ground your hips up to meet his thrusts, the head of his cock brushing your g-spot over and over again.

"I-I'm gonna c-cum," Spencer warned, voice strained and whiny as his pace faltered, thrusts getting sloppy as he neared his second orgasm. "m-me too baby just a l-little more," you whined, head thrown back against your pillows as a few stray tears escaped your eyes, thighs beginning to shake against his waist, your legs still secured around him.

It didn't take much longer for you to feel Spencer's cock twitch inside you, your walls fluttering around him as you felt your orgasm dangerously close. Spencer was suddenly trying to pull away to release on your stomach, your legs instinctively constricting him harder, desperate for your own release. "I-I c-can't hold i-it; you need to l-let me-" You could hear how much he was straining in his voice, desperately trying not to cum, but your mind only had one train of thought, and that was your own release.

"I-inside! p-please just c-cum inside!" You begged, Spencer's eyes blowing wide at your words, his cock twitching at the implication of filling you with his cum, and honestly, it seemed like his only option. Your thighs clenched around his waist and hands holding him with a vice-like grip, so he gave in, hands moving to hold your hips as he let himself thrust into your warmth, both of you moaning in tandem.

Spencer gave a few more sloppy thrusts before he choked out a moan, eyes squeezing shut and head tipping back as he released into you, burying his cock as deep as it would go, cum painting your walls in spurts, the feeling of the warm liquid filling you to the brim had to toppling over the edge, your back arching as you clenched around his length, a mix of his and your cum spilling out around his cock as he gently rocked his hips into you, riding out both your highs.

Spencer let himself collapse on top of you, his arms wrapping around you as he nuzzled his head into your chest, which was rising and falling quickly with your heavy breaths. You both lay in silence as you caught your breath, only remembering that you had to get up and clean yourselves when Spencer moved slightly, feeling more of his cum seep out of you.

"You should go pee." Spencer's voice was muffled as he spoke into your chest. You laughed lightly at the fact that he knew that. I mean he of all people would know that women had to pee after sex. "Well, get out then," you joked, Spencer cringing at your choice of words but complying, lifting himself off of you and slowly pulling out his softening length, both of you sucking in a breath at the feeling.

Spencer insisted on cleaning you up, taking care to be gentle and careful as he did, knowing you would still be sensitive before he all but forced you to pee, going on a tangent about UTI's and the statistics of how many women get them after not peeing after sex, and shoving him out of the bathroom. You finally got some peace to actually use the bathroom without him making you paranoid about your vagina falling off or something.

"alright! i pissed! happy now?" You walked back into your bedroom to find Spencer digging around in your closet in just his underwear, your bedsheets strewn on your floor. "Yes, very, where are your spare sheets?" he asked, turning to face you. You just stood in silence for a moment before you smiled, padding over to him, suddenly full of emotion as you wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your head into his bare chest. Spencer was surprised at your sudden affection but returned your hug, resting his chin atop your head and enveloping you in his arms, his larger body completely engulfing yours.

"What was that for?" Spencer asked when you pulled away, and you just looked at him with your eyebrows furrowed. "We just had sex, and you're asking why I hugged you? Got your priorities  straight, I see Dr. Reid," you jokingly rolled your eyes, feigning being mad at him. Spencer had learned how to differentiate when you were joking and serious pretty early in your friendship, so he just laughed at you, shaking his head but still curious as to why you decided to hug him.

You brought out your spare sheets from the closet, looking at Spencer with a look on your face that said everything: "I swear I looked there." He tried to reason, but you just scoffed, mumbling, "Yeah, yeah" and shaking your head.

Spencer all but forced you to let him help you make the bed, quickly regretting it when it turned into you both bickering over who was doing it wrong and who was doing it right, Spencer cursing more in the ten minutes it took to make the bed than he had in your years of knowing each other, but you eventually had the bed made, both of you getting in on your designated sides. It was a good thing you both religiously slept on opposite sides, or you think you might've actually become an unsub.

You switched off your lamp before rolling over and scooting over the bed to press yourself into Spencer's back, wrapping your arm around him and nuzzling your cheek into his back. "Are you...spooning me?" Spencer sounded as if he was trying not to laugh, and you glared at him even though you couldn't see him whatsoever and he couldn't see you even if a light was on. "Oh, I see, you don't appreciate my spooning you ungrateful little ass; I'll just be over here, don't you worry," you scoffed, rolling over aggressively and letting out an overexaggerated huff as you scooched right to the very edge of the bed, as far away from him as you could get, taking all the blankets with you.

"No no! i do! I really appreciate your spooning! come back!" Spencer laughed, reaching behind him to find you, his hand accidentally landing on your ass, making you gasp and swat him away. "Pervert! You're lucky you're cute, y'know." You rolled back over and moved to slot yourself behind him again, pinching his waist as a form of punishment for grabbing your ass before you draped your duvet back over him.

You both lay listening to each other breathing as you felt sleep begin to creep up on you. You heard heavy breaths leaving Spencer's lips. You poked him lightly a few times to be sure he was asleep before you whispered quietly, "I hugged you because I'm kind of in love with you." You held your breath, praying that he was actually asleep, and when he didn't reply, you let it out, sinking into the mattress as you let your exhaustion win, everything going black.

silly little epilogue!

"Shit, shit, shit!" you practically yelled, rushing out of your apartment with Spencer in tow, still buttoning his shirt, belt undone, and hair awry as you both hurried to your car. You had both slept in for work, completely forgetting to set alarms the night before. You only woke up when Penelope called you, asking where you were, eyes bulging out of your head when you noticed how late you were, Spencer stirring beside you at the commotion, opening his mouth to say something when you slammed your hand over his lips, his eyes widening when he realised it was Penelope on the phone.

You had to lie to her when she asked if you knew where Spencer was, telling her you had no idea and that you were sure he would be there soon. Spencer took the opportunity to jump out of bed to scavenger hunt for his clothes around your apartment.

You made a pit stop on the way to the pharmacy to pick up the morning after pill, the cashier looking at you with a knowing look at your appearance; your hair was messy, your clothes were askew and untidy, and there was not a lick of makeup on your face. You only realised you didn't have anything to take it with when you got to the car, and you were not taking it dry, opting to just speed off and deal with it later.

Your car all but screeched to a stop when you reached the building, both of you swinging the doors open and slamming them behind you, almost forgetting to lock your car as you tried to discreetly run-walk to the elevator, which didn't work. Passersby giving you both weird looks.

You did your best to fix yourself in the elevator, trying to look at least presentable to minimise questions from your colleagues. You didn't even glance at Spencer; how he looked was his own problem today. The elevator dinged and the doors opened, both of you striding out in unison, making your way through the office to the conference room.

"So sorry, I'm late!" You spoke, quickly making your way to your seat. "Traffic was terrible, sorry, hotch." Spencer followed suit, taking the seat next to you as everyone's eyes turned to you, looking at you both with a strange expression that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

Hotch went back to the briefing, going over the details that you had about the case when you leaned in to whisper to Derek, who was next to you. "Can I have a sip of your water?" you asked, and Derek nodded, handing it to you without hesitation. You tried to slyly pull the pill out of your pocket and quietly remove the packaging, but you clearly weren't sly or quiet enough. Penelope was gasping from across the table.

"no way! you dirty dogs!" She practically squealed, everyone's undevided attention turning to you, some confused expressions at her outburst. "That, my friends, is the morning after pill, and those, my friends, are a whole bunch of hickeys; oh, may I remind you they came in together, by the way?" Penelope pointed as she spoke, at your hand and at Spencer, both of you blushing and trying to wrack your brains for an explanation, but there was none.

"My boy!" Derek celebrated, leaning around you to pat Spencer on the back. You turned to him with an apologetic expression, realising it was probably your fault for not checking that they were covered, too worried about your appearance.

"Why am I not surprised?" Rossi added, a few of the others agreeing with him. You could tell that everyone wanted to bombard you both with questions but knew that they couldn't because of the whole part where you were all in an important meeting, Hotch clearing his throat as a reminder, everyone's attention turning back to the case.

You took the opportunity to actually take your pill, throwing it in your mouth and taking a swig of dereks water before handing it back to him and turning your attention to Hotch, the meeting continuing as normal.

You didn't notice Spencer scooting closer to you until he gently tapped your thigh to get your attention, turning to face him before he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"I'm kind of in love with you too, by the way."

[moonstruckme]

I recently found ur page and omfg I spent hours yesterday reading all ur work!!!! What a lil fic of Sirius and reader but like pre relationship where she's in the hospital (u can pick reason) and she refuses to see anyone and just asks for Sirius

Thanks for requesting my love!

cw: hospital, mention of stitches

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 906 words

Sirius feels awkward and stiff as he pulls back the curtain, though for all he knows you’re too hopped up on pain meds to even know it’s him. Really, that’s the only reasonable explanation for the directions the nurse had just delivered: “She said she’ll only see Sirius right now.” 

He has no clue why you’d ask for him. He’s probably the least comforting of your roommates, and as soon as he catches sight of you, knees tented in front of your chest and hands clasped around your ankles, his worry for your choice deepens. 

Someone’s tried to clean you up, but they’ve done a shit job of it. There’s still blood crusted on your chin, and your face is blotchy, your cheeks smeared with dark gray like you’d wiped across them with your hands only to spread your makeup off to the sides. James had said you’d cried the whole car ride to A&E, but Sirius still wasn’t prepared to see you like this. His chest feels hollow and achy. 

“Hey,” you say, voice scratchy. If hearts have strings, you’re playing his like a fiddle. 

“Hey, doll.” He goes for a smile as he sits on the edge of your little cot, managing to sound halfway normal. “Come here often?” 

You start to grin, then stop like it hurts. Sirius stops, too. 

“Yeah, you know,” you say, “now and then.” 

“Don’t see why.” He makes a show of looking about him, at the papery blue curtain and beige-ish linoleum floors. “Place is sorta depressing.” 

You roll your eyes, and Sirius’ heart lightens to see you in a better humor. “Yeah, I think I’ve judged my hangout poorly. I’m dying to get out of here.” 

He’ll bet. You’ve been here hours longer than him. James had been the only one home with you when you’d tripped on the stairs and bitten through your lip, and Sirius and Remus had only found out when they’d gotten home and seen the note James left, his already scribbly handwriting worsened by haste and panic. By the time they’d arrived they’d missed most of the action (Sirius was secretly thankful for that) and James had filled them in before the nurse had come out to inform them that you’d gotten three stitches in your lip and summoned Sirius back. 

“I can understand that.” He gives you his best approximation of James’ easygoing grin. “You ready to go home then, gorgeous?” 

The shift is slight, but Sirius sees your bravado fade, a shyness entering your expression. “That’s actually why I wanted to see you,” you say.

“Yeah?” He doesn’t bother to hide his curiosity. “Why’s that?” 

“Because I know you’ll be honest with me.” 

He feels his eyebrows go up. “About what?” 

You shrink a bit, knees drawing closer to your chest. Your voice is small when you ask, “Is it awful? I mean, do I look awful?” 

Ah. Sirius can see why you’d want him for this, but you’re wrong in your assumption. He’d absolutely lie to you if he needed to, just like Remus or James would in his place. But you’ve asked for him, so Sirius tries to do right by you. 

“You could never look awful, dollface. Be sensible.” He squints his eyes teasingly, reaching for your ankle and giving it a reprimanding little shake. “It’s just a couple of stitches, you haven’t been warped unrecognizable.” 

You frown, and it’s even more upsetting than usual. Your eyes look heart-breakingly insecure. “Are you sure?” you ask softly. 

“Yeah, I’m fucking sure.” Sirius scoffs like you’re unbelievable. “You said it yourself, babe, I wouldn’t lie to you.” He definitely would, but there’ll never be an occasion for that. He can’t imagine you genuinely looking bad. “I can clean you up a bit, though, if you’d like.” 

You blink. “Um, yeah. If you think it would help.” 

“Brilliant. Sit tight.” Sirius gets up and starts going through drawers, sifting through medical supplies for something he can use. 

“Fairly sure you’re not supposed to do that.” You sound like you’re trying not to smile. 

“Fairly certain my taxes pay for this place, and they’ve left my best-looking roommate with a dirty face.” He finds a box of mini-wipes, turning back to you. “Don’t tell James I’ve said that.” 

“Oh, I’m definitely tattling on you,” you tease, and Sirius is caught between feeling triumphant and worried that you look very near to grinning. He has no clue how easy it is to tear your stitches. 

“What, you want us to match? That’s cruel, sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes. “He won’t punch you.” 

Sirius huffs a laugh, holding you still with a hand on your jaw as he wipes gently at your chin. “You haven’t known him as long as I have.” 

Your brows flick up as you meet his eyes, disbelieving. “Our James? You really think our James would hit you for saying he’s not the best looking roommate?” 

“Well, not if you’re in front of me,” he muses. He throws out the first wipe, ripping open another. “He already feels bad for you, so maybe that can work in my favor. If you are going to tell him, lean on me as we walk out, okay, doll? Give me a fighting chance.” 

The corner of your lips twist as you close your eyes and Sirius wipes sideways across your cheek. “Yeah, fair enough. I’ll do my best for you.”

[creamflix]

UNSCRIPTED — toji fushiguro x female reader [chapter 2/5]

summary: you’re a faceless author of scandalous smut — great at writing steamy scenes but totally clueless about real-life romance (and with no one to match your freak). enter toji fushiguro, a hot stranger you (accidentally) throw up on during a drunken night out. surprise! he’s also the future voice actor for your smutty novel’s main character. can you survive the awkwardness of your disastrous meet-cute while keeping your identity (and dignity) a secret? welcome to the chaos of your own erotic fantasy romcom!

content warning & tags: (erotic) voice artist! toji, (smut) writer! reader, smutty content!! [will be added over the course of the series], sort of workplace romance, secret/anon identity, slight social media au, meet-cute, virgin!reader, single dad dilf! toji, kid! megumi, strangers to lovers (?), she fell first but he fell harder, mentions of other characters (satoru gojo, suguru geto, megumi fushiguro, shoko eiri, brief mentions of ryomen sukuna)

notes: hi friends !! i hope u're liking the series so far <3 seems like persephone! suguru can't catch a break huh D: i wanted to highlight the same scene[s] from suguru's perspective, just to give him a lil depth :") if u want to keep up with the series more quicker, i highly suggest keeping up with the series on ao3 [for quicker updates ^^] thank you to my taglist for their support too :)

read on ao3! ● series masterlist

➤ related au: persephone [business tycoon! sukuna x reader]

the drive to megumi’s school was unusually quiet. 

normally, toji would lean into his usual “cool, brooding single dad” act — just enough to avoid attention but keep an edge. but today, he’d done something weirdly out of character: asked you to tag along. 

not that he’d admit it was for any other reason than megumi, obviously. 

nope. definitely nothing else to it.

just… kinda nice having you along for the ride, right?

the two of you settled into his car, and you couldn’t help but smirk at how the radio was suspiciously off. toji didn’t give any explanation, but you were pretty sure it was a preventative measure to avoid another “iris” moment and the resulting accidental kiss. 

which, okay, was kinda cute.

toji tapped his fingers against the wheel, casting the occasional sideways glance at you before finally saying, “so… just curious.” he cleared his throat, like he was trying not to make a big deal out of the question. “what made you, uh… you know, want to write those books?”

you blinked. “oh, my books?”

“yeah, the… passionate ones.” he coughed, looking anywhere but at you. “like, what inspired you to write those… intensely worded stories?”

you laughed, caught off guard. “okay, first of all, ‘intensely worded?’ that’s one way to put it.”

“look, i’m trying to be polite,” he said, giving you a sidelong smirk that made your stomach flip. “but seriously. i mean, it’s a specific line of work. what got you into it?”

you chewed on the inside of your cheek, feeling the familiar blush creeping up. 

“uh, well… honestly, i just thought it was something fun to try out. i like romance and, you know… writing what people connect with. people like the, um, more intense stuff, so… figured i’d give it a shot.”

he nodded, taking it all in. “huh. so, all that… stuff you write —” he paused, trying to phrase it carefully. “that’s from experience or…?”

you let out an awkward laugh, your face heating up even more. “not exactly. i… well, i actually haven’t… i mean, i’m still… y’know.” 

you cleared your throat. “a virgin.”

toji’s eyes went wide. 

“wait, you’re telling me… all that detail, the way you describe things, and you haven’t even…”

“nope.” you shook your head, biting back a smile at his shocked expression. “guess you could say i have a good imagination?”

he let out a low whistle, looking at you with something that was a mix of admiration and… something else you couldn’t quite place. “well, i gotta give you credit. you write it like you’ve, uh, lived it.”

you shrugged, trying to play it cool. “guess it’s all about the research.”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “research, huh? well, you’ve got some serious talent in the ‘research’ department then. i’d hate to see what you’d write if you actually… y’know, had the experience.”

“well, maybe one day i will,” you shot back, feeling a little bolder. “and then my books will be even better.”

he chuckled, leaning back in his seat. “you’re something else.”

for a moment, the two of you just looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between you. 

the tension was thick enough to cut, and toji looked like he was about to say something else when megumi’s school finally came into view. he let out a breath, the moment effectively broken as he focused on finding a parking spot.

but as you both waited for megumi to come out, you couldn’t help but wonder what was going through toji’s head… and if he was thinking the same thing you were.

the second megumi spotted you and toji at the school gates, he was off like a shot, running toward you with all the enthusiasm of a kid who’d been waiting all day to see his favorite people. his grin was wide, and his little backpack bounced as he bolted up. and to your surprise (and toji's too), he didn’t go for his dad first — nope, he ran right into your arms like you were his personal safe haven.

“you came!” he squealed, hugging you tightly around the waist as if he hadn't just seen you yesterday. you laughed, hugging him back just as warmly, and you could practically feel the teachers’ eyes drilling holes into your back.

“of course i did,” you said, ruffling his hair. “what, you thought i’d miss out on picking you up?”

“nope!” he said proudly, pulling back and grabbing your hand as if to make sure you wouldn’t vanish.

toji stood off to the side, his hands in his pockets, trying to hide his smirk as he watched the scene unfold. yeah, he wasn’t about to complain about you being here — not at all.

as you all made your way back to the car, you couldn’t help but notice a few teachers and parents exchanging knowing looks, no doubt remembering how toji introduced you as his “colleague” yesterday. they didn’t look too convinced anymore.

inside the car, megumi settled comfortably between the two of you in the backseat, clutching his backpack like he was about to embark on the world’s most exciting road trip.

“sooo!” megumi started, a mischievous look in his eyes. “did you two have fun while i was in school?”

toji let out a tiny cough from the driver’s seat, looking at you in the rearview mirror with a hint of a smirk. “megumi, what exactly do you mean by ‘fun’?”

“i dunno, daddy!” megumi rolled his eyes in that dramatic way only an eight-year-old could pull off. “you were smiling all morning! you never do that!”

you tried to hide a smile yourself, glancing sideways at toji. “he was smiling all morning, huh?”

toji shot you a playful glare before focusing back on the road. “you got somethin’ to say about that?”

“nope, nothing at all,” you replied, suppressing a giggle.

“you’re smiling too!” megumi added, turning his full attention to you with a face that was way too smug for a kid his age. “did you like being with my dad today?”

your eyes widened as you exchanged a quick look with toji. “well, yes, i had a great time working with your dad,” you said carefully, trying to dodge the landmine that megumi had unknowingly set.

“yeah, but did you and daddy, like, do anything else? like on tv?”

toji almost choked, and you couldn’t stop a laugh from slipping out. “megs! we just talked and laughed a bit, nothing like in the movies, promise.”

megumi looked skeptical, folding his arms. “then why are you both acting all funny?”

“what do you mean, ‘funny’?” toji asked, raising an eyebrow in the rearview mirror.

“like… i dunno, all shy and weird,” megumi huffed, his brows furrowing in confusion. “like when the kids at school talk about people who like each other.”

your cheeks were definitely heating up, and you could tell toji was trying not to laugh.

“sometimes people just… act like that when they’re really comfortable,” toji explained, trying to sound nonchalant. “not everything’s like it is on tv.”

“oh,” megumi said, though he didn’t look totally convinced. 

“soooo, when are you guys gonna have a playdate without me?”

“what?” you and toji both burst out at the same time, while megumi just grinned, proud of himself for catching you both off guard.

“you two look like you want more playdates,,” he added with a shrug, like he was the expert on the subject.

toji shook his head, laughing under his breath. “how about you let the adults figure that out, hm?”

“fine, fine,” megumi said, obviously pleased with himself. “but i wanna know when you guys have another playdate, ‘kay?”

you patted his shoulder, chuckling. “deal, kiddo. you’ll be the first to know.”

as toji pulled out onto the street, you settled back, sharing an amused look with him in the mirror. and as megumi continued his non-stop chatter about school, dinosaurs, and how he wanted both of you to come to his next soccer game, you felt that fuzzy feeling again — the same one from last night. maybe having these two around wasn’t so bad at all.

toji pulled up to his house, shifting into park before a sudden realization hit him like a freight train — you were still along for the ride. it was supposed to be a quick pickup, maybe a casual goodbye once megumi was dropped off, but here you were, in the passenger seat, smiling as megumi practically buzzed with excitement beside you.

"uh… so… yeah, this is… my place,” he said, scratching the back of his head, feeling uncharacteristically awkward. he wasn’t sure if he should invite you in or just wave goodbye with some half-baked excuse. 

but before he could even finish his internal debate, megumi had his own plans.

“that means you can come see my room!” megumi exclaimed, his eyes lighting up as he threw open the door and scrambled out of the car.

“oh, i don’t wanna intrude —” you started, already moving to say goodbye, but megumi was way ahead, bounding up the steps and glancing back with an impatient wave.

“c’mon!” he insisted, practically dancing in place with excitement. “you gotta see my plushies and my legos! oh, and my origami stuff, and —”

toji opened the front door, and as soon as you were inside, megumi was by your side again, tugging at your hand with a grip surprisingly strong for a kid. “you gotta see everything!” he said, eyes gleaming.

“okay, okay!” you laughed, letting him lead the way.

toji watched, a little dumbfounded. he’d seen megumi excited before, sure, but this was a whole new level. “hey, uh, megs, maybe she’s tired. we don’t wanna overwhelm her, y’know?” he said, trying to sound casual and almost hoping you’d back out to save him from his own nerves.

“no way!” megumi protested, his voice emphatic. “she’s gotta see my dinos and my race cars and my drawings too! pleaseeee?”

“don’t worry, i think i can handle it,” you chuckled, shooting toji a reassuring look. 

he let out a sigh, feeling a mix of relief and… something else he really didn’t wanna unpack at the moment.

megumi practically dragged you down the hall toward what toji modestly called his “suite,” which was more like a sprawling kid paradise decked out in a swanky setup. it was undeniably luxurious — the kind of suite most people would call their whole apartment — but it was still a kid’s space through and through. plushies lay scattered around in a trail leading to the bedroom, where legos, crayons, toy cars, and origami creations decorated the floor in random bursts of color. every available surface was covered in megumi’s little projects and treasures.

“wow, megumi, you weren’t kidding!” you said, genuinely impressed. you walked over to a group of origami animals on his desk. “did you make all of these?”

“yep!” he puffed up his chest with pride, holding up a particularly crumpled paper crane. “this one’s my favorite. it didn’t come out great, but it’s special ‘cause daddy helped me with it.”

toji felt a funny warmth spread through his chest. he tried to brush it off, but it was hard to ignore seeing the two of you in his home, talking like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“and here’s mr. wiggles!” megumi said, suddenly pulling over a massive, well-loved teddy bear that looked like it’d been through a hundred battles. “daddy got him for me when i was little.”

“mr. wiggles is a great name,” you laughed, crouching down to inspect the bear. “i bet he’s been on a lot of adventures with you.”

“yeah, he’s been to the doctor with me, and the dentist, and he helps me with my homework sometimes,” megumi explained with the seriousness only an eight-year-old could muster.

toji chuckled, folding his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. “he’s a busy bear, huh?”

“super busy,” megumi agreed, pulling you over to his lego city next. 

“this is where the ninjas live, and over here’s where the dinosaurs hide.”

“oh, and here i thought ninjas and dinos couldn’t get along,” you teased, glancing over at toji, who was doing a poor job at hiding his amusement. “you must be the peacekeeper, megumi.”

“i am!” he laughed, then suddenly looked up at toji. 

“daddy, can she stay for dinner?”

toji’s eyes widened slightly. he hadn’t even considered dinner yet.

but the thought of you here, in his space, a part of his evening routine with megumi… it felt way too good to resist.

“uh, well, if she’s got the time,” he mumbled, scratching his neck and pretending to be cool about it. “you don’t gotta stick around if you got other things.”

“actually, i’d love to stay, if that’s okay?” you said, glancing between them both.

toji tried to act casual, even though his heart was doing a little victory lap. “yeah, sure. why not?”

“yes!” megumi cheered, already running out the door. “i’ll get the table ready!”

“is he… always this excited?” you asked, turning to toji with a chuckle.

“not usually,” toji admitted, scratching the back of his head. “guess you got that effect on him.”

the three of you settled around the table, megumi proudly munching away on his ironman-themed plate, the red and gold colors a little faded from years of use. he shot you a grin, already halfway through explaining ironman’s latest mission to save the world… for the third time.

toji, meanwhile, sat across from you, feeling inexplicably fidgety as he set down the fine china he’d pulled from the back of a cabinet. he'd dusted off every inch of those plates — his mind still spinning with why he even bothered. 

he wasn’t usually one for this kind of thing, but when he saw how carefully you ladled the stew into the bowls, he couldn’t help but notice you gave that same care to megumi too, nodding along as he chattered away about his superhero theories.

“you know, daddy never gets the cool plates out for anyone else,” megumi piped up, completely oblivious to the faint flush creeping up his dad’s face.

“oh really?” you chuckled, raising an eyebrow in toji’s direction. “well, i feel honored then. i’ll try not to drop it.”

toji groaned internally, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “kid’s got a big mouth,” he muttered, shooting megumi a faux warning look, though his own ears were burning.

“you’ve got good taste, though,” you teased him lightly, glancing down at the pristine white china with intricate blue patterns.

“yeah, well… s’just plates. they’re old,” toji shrugged, hoping that downplaying it would erase any significance you might read into the whole situation.

“old but pretty,” you said, not looking up as you ladled some stew for megumi, who was eagerly waiting with his bowl stretched out. “here you go, megumi. i made it a little less spicy for you, just like you asked.”

megumi’s eyes sparkled as he accepted the bowl. “thanks! you make the best stew!”

toji watched as you smiled back at megumi, completely absorbed in whatever he was babbling about, offering little “uh-huhs” and “reallys” as he animatedly described his favorite ironman scene. watching you like this, giving his kid your full attention even while busy in the kitchen, felt so… weird. 

like something he didn’t realize was missing, but now that it was there, he couldn’t imagine going without it.

“and then ironman totally blasts the villain’s robot suit — kaboom!” megumi finished, flinging his arms wide as if to demonstrate the explosion.

“kaboom, huh?” you laughed, sitting back in your chair, clearly enjoying his enthusiasm. “sounds intense.”

“yeah! ironman doesn’t mess around,” megumi said with a sage nod, as if passing on some universal wisdom. “but he’s gotta protect everyone, even the people who don’t like him.”

“sounds like a pretty cool guy,” you mused, glancing over at toji with a small smile. “maybe you two have something in common.”

“oh, god,” toji groaned, but he couldn’t fight the smirk that tugged at his lips. “don’t give him ideas, he’ll think i’m gonna go fight crime or somethin’.”

“wouldn’t that be so cool?” megumi interjected, eyes sparkling. “you could be like… iron dad!”

toji rolled his eyes, but he caught the look on your face — amused, warm, like you were seeing a side of him that no one else really noticed. 

and for some reason, that was way too close to the truth for comfort. 

he cleared his throat, glancing down at his stew to avoid meeting your gaze.

“maybe i’ll just stick to keeping this kid in one piece,” toji muttered, but his heart was beating a little faster than usual.

and as megumi kept up his enthusiastic rambling, it all started to feel too cozy, too right. the clinking of plates, the soft warmth in the air, the way you didn’t rush megumi but let him take center stage as he shared his endless thoughts — it all blended together into something that felt like home, even if toji wouldn’t dare say it out loud.

as you reached for another spoonful of stew, listening intently to megumi’s latest story about his lego creations, toji realized that, yeah… this felt pretty damn right.

megumi clutched his book eagerly, eyes shining as he snuggled into bed, clearly over the moon that you’d agreed to stay for his bedtime story. he gave toji a serious look, announcing, “since daddy can’t do girl voices — cuz he’s a voicing actor, but he’s not that good — you gotta help with the girl lines, okay?”

“oh, yeah?” toji shot him a mock glare. “that’s a pretty big request, squirt. you sure i can’t just, y’know, growl like a tiger or something?”

megumi shook his head, adamant. “nope! you’re supposed to be the bear prince, and she’s the bunny princess! and then they meet at the river — just read, daddy.”

toji rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t hide the faint smile as he settled in beside megumi, 

taking the book from his son’s hands. “alright, alright, let’s do this right. bunny princess and bear prince — sounds about as weird as it gets, but we’ll make it work.”

with megumi sandwiched between the two of you, you leaned over to see the page. 

“the bunny princess hopped through the forest, searching for her friend, the bear prince, who was known for his wisdom and strength,” you read in a soft voice, giving it your best princess tone.

megumi nodded, satisfied. “much better than uncle gojo,” he whispered to you in a conspiratorial tone, “his princess voice is just… weird.”

toji stifled a snicker, picking up the next line. 

“the bear prince, with his deep, growly voice, stepped out from behind the tree, saying, ‘i hear you’re lookin’ for a friend. well, look no further.’”

megumi giggled, clutching the blanket as he looked up at toji in admiration. “now that’s a good bear voice, daddy! you don’t gotta growl or nothing.”

you shot toji a playful look. “see? you’re already halfway to voice actor stardom.”

“sure, sure, as long as i don’t have to wear princess crowns, i think i’ll survive,” he smirked, giving the book back to you to read the bunny’s next line.

“‘oh, bear prince, i’m so happy to see you!’ the bunny princess chirped, hopping closer. ‘the forest feels so safe with you here.’”

toji took his turn, grinning. 

“‘that’s right, princess. stick close to me, and nothing can harm you — not even that pesky fox from the riverbank.’”

megumi, eyes already starting to droop, nodded in sage approval, mumbling, “bears are super strong…”

as the story unfolded, with each of you taking on your character’s lines, you couldn’t help but notice how megumi’s little body relaxed more and more, eyelids growing heavier as he listened to the tale of the bunny princess and bear prince’s forest adventure.

 finally, after you’d read the line where the bunny and bear bid each other goodnight under the stars, you heard megumi’s soft, even breathing.

you and toji shared a glance, both of you lowering your voices.

“looks like our audience conked out before the big finale,” you whispered with a smile, your voice barely above a murmur.

“heh,” toji chuckled, glancing at his son’s sleeping face. “usually he stays up longer, keeps asking for more.” he paused, watching you with a look that seemed to say more than his words. “maybe he’s just got a soft spot for princess voices… or maybe, you know, a good storyteller.”

a soft warmth settled in the quiet room, the gentle rise and fall of megumi’s breathing filling the space as you both stayed still for a moment, neither wanting to break the spell.

you stood up slowly from megumi’s bed, glancing down at the little guy, still out cold, his mouth slightly open as he clutched his iron man plush. the clock on the wall blinked “9:00 pm,” and your stomach sank a little — hadn’t you meant to leave hours ago? 

but when you made a quiet move toward the door, toji was right there, leaning in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets.

“you, uh, really don’t have to rush,” he said, almost nonchalant, though his gaze flicked over to megumi. “i mean, for his sake, y’know. wouldn’t want him freaking out if he wakes up in the middle of the night and you’re gone…”

“oh, of course,” you murmured, feeling a warm, slightly strange fluttering sensation at his words. 

“just… so he doesn’t get scared. yeah.”

you glanced down at yourself. god, what were you going to sleep in? your work clothes? 

toji seemed to read your mind, though, tilting his head a bit. “i think i got some old clothes you could wear if you want,” he offered, looking you up and down with that calm, appraising look that made you feel like he saw a bit more than he let on. “not the most fashionable, but they’re clean.”

“thanks, that’d be great,” you said, offering a small smile, and you turned to head toward the door to the guest room — then stopped. “wait… i think i left my phone on his nightstand.”

before you could overthink it, you turned back abruptly, intending to slip past toji back into megumi’s room. 

but somehow, in the dim lighting, the narrow doorway, the warmth of the moment… your face collided with his chest, and then, your lips met his, soft and sudden and all-consuming.

for a heartbeat, everything else fell away: the gentle ticking of the clock, the faint whirring of the a/c, even the warmth of megumi’s room. 

you felt nothing but the weight of toji’s lips against yours, the subtle intake of his breath as he seemed to register just what was happening. there was a moment of hesitation, and then his hand instinctively moved to your waist, pulling you closer with a soft, undeniable insistence.

his voice was a low whisper, barely more than a breath between you. “so… you were just gonna leave without even saying goodbye?”

for a split second, everything froze — the dim hallway, the soft, ambient sounds of the house, the fact that you were standing right outside megumi’s door, where one sleepy sound could catch you both. 

but that one breath against toji’s lips, so close, melted everything else away.

he didn’t pull back; if anything, his hold on your waist only tightened, fingers pressing just enough to send a warm ripple up your spine. his eyes met yours, slightly wide, as if he couldn’t quite believe he had you like this, so close. you could almost feel his heartbeat thrumming in sync with your own, and you let out a shaky breath, your lips brushing his again.

“this… is not what i planned when i came over,” you murmured, barely able to get the words out as your forehead touched his. “not — not in front of your kid’s room.”

“mm,” he whispered, gaze dropping to your lips, that barely-there smirk flickering across his face, “it’s a first for me too.” he held your gaze, his expression softening, something almost tender in his eyes as he raised his hand to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. 

“but if you wanted to leave… you would’ve pulled away by now.”

you bit your lip at the way his thumb lingered on your cheek, his breath warm against your skin, and before you knew it, your lips found his again. this time, it was slower, unhurried, like you had all the time in the world to feel the way his mouth moved against yours, soft and then a little firmer, as he seemed to lose himself in the moment.

he leaned into you, pressing you just slightly against the wall, his hand sliding from your waist up to the small of your back, drawing you close. the quiet was filled only with the shared breaths between you two, a quiet hum that passed between your lips, as if even the smallest sound might wake megumi just on the other side of the wall.

you found your hand on his chest, fingers curling in his shirt, pulling him a little closer, wanting to deepen the kiss even though every bit of common sense told you to stop. his lips parted, pressing small, lingering kisses along your lower lip, his fingers tracing gentle circles along your back as though he was trying to savor every second. you were barely breathing, lost in the warmth of him, feeling him melt just a little against you.

“god, you’re making it hard to stop,” he murmured against your lips, his voice almost a growl but so quiet it barely even registered.

“i don’t think i want to,” you whispered back, eyes meeting his in the dim light. he held your gaze, his thumb tracing a soft line along your cheek, but he didn’t move away, staying close, his nose brushing yours in a way that was so tender you almost forgot how precarious this was.

you both laughed quietly, the sound soft and low, the kind of laugh that was more of a breath shared between you. toji glanced back at megumi’s door, and for a second, his face softened in a way you rarely saw, as if he couldn’t help but feel this moment was just a little forbidden.

“maybe we should… try this somewhere a little less dangerous,” he muttered, though he didn’t make any move to let go, his gaze flicking back to yours.

“you mean… like a first date or something?” you murmured, lips curling into a soft smile.

“guess i don’t mind a second kiss either,” he replied, brushing his lips against yours one last time before stepping back, the space between you suddenly feeling too cold, too quiet.

as he stepped back, the reality of the hallway — the very literal door to his son’s room right beside you — set in, but the warmth still lingered, and the smile he gave you as he walked you down the hall felt like a promise for something more, something you both couldn’t wait to explore.

the “boys night” at gojo-sonic’s swanky office was nothing short of its usual absurdity, with gojo dubbing it the “greatest tradition ever” as he practically threw around the “finest” sweet alcohol like it was candy. 

toji was there, albeit begrudgingly, mostly due to gojo’s persistence (“c’mon, you’re the only one who knows how to enjoy this premium stuff!”), and suguru joined from a dimly-lit zoom window, his face half-smiling, half-tired as he sipped on a glass of his own.

“missing out, suguru,” gojo teased, tilting back his drink. “oh, but thanks for the wine, by the way. nothing says ‘wish i were there’ like sending over a box of booze from you and your business partner.”

“oh, for heaven’s sake,” suguru muttered, though his smirk suggested he didn’t mind. “it was a halloween release. figured it’d keep you all happy and…unbearable.”

toji chuckled, swirling his glass and trying not to roll his eyes as gojo feigned offense.

“unbearable? me?” gojo put a hand over his heart. “if you actually joined us in person, you’d see i’m the highlight of this ‘boys night.’ it’s practically a public service, sugu-boo. oh, and shoutout to persephone for making it possible, of course.”

“yeah, yeah, you’re a real gift to mankind,” suguru replied, his tone deadpan, but his smile lingered as he took a sip. 

“so what’re you boys talking about? since i can’t be there to hear it firsthand.”

toji shifted, debating on whether or not he wanted to launch into the mess that had been swirling in his head all week. but with the alcohol settling in and gojo’s usual chatter as encouragement, it was hard to hold back. he sighed, resting his elbow on the arm of the chair, looking anywhere but the screen.

“oh, just, y’know… kid stuff.”

gojo raised a brow. “kid stuff? you mean, how megumi’s practically obsessed with y/n?”

“please,” toji groaned, rubbing his temple. “that kid’s dragging her around like she’s his second parent.”

“sounds like he’s got good taste,” suguru noted with a grin, sipping his wine. “and from what you said last week, he’s already planning on keeping her around for life, huh?”

toji shot him a look through the screen, but he knew they were right. megumi was over the moon whenever you came around, from showing off every little toy he owned to making you part of bedtime stories. 

it was adorable, sure, but it made this whole situation way more… intense than he’d signed up for.

“kid talks about her all the time,” toji admitted, swirling his glass again. “like, even his teachers thought she was his mom or something. and she…well, she’s good with him. she’s damn good.” he looked down, a smirk tugging at his lips. “which, believe it or not, i didn’t expect when we first met.”

“ohhh?” gojo leaned in, that smirk of his spreading as he raised a brow. “and you? what did you expect?”

toji glanced away, that hint of a smirk still there, despite himself. “don’t make me say it.”

“oh, we’re making you say it,” gojo teased, sliding another drink his way. “so, you’re saying she’s…wife material?”

suguru nearly choked on his drink, and the way he was watching toji from the screen made it clear he wasn’t missing a second of this.

toji scoffed, taking a gulp to keep from saying anything too embarrassing. “she’s… special. hell, i didn’t plan on getting attached, and yet —” he paused, chuckling almost self-consciously. “i feel like a damn teenager.”

“and here i thought you were the king of nonchalance,” suguru teased, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

“yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” toji muttered, trying to shake it off. 

but the truth was, the second he was alone, he found himself thinking about you, about the way megumi’s face lit up when you were around, the way you just… fit into their little world without even trying. 

it was surreal. 

the damn wine probably didn’t help, either.

gojo slapped him on the back, clearly enjoying this way too much. “well, for what it’s worth,” he said, his voice surprisingly sincere, “megumi deserves someone good. and maybe you do too.”

toji rolled his eyes, but he didn’t bother denying it. if anything, he felt the tiniest glimmer of hope. 

that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t screw this one up.

gojo snickered, his smirk all-knowing as he raised his glass. “i’ve got it,” he said with way too much enthusiasm, the kind he only had when he was on the brink of embarrassing the hell out of someone. “toji, you and y/n could do a joint wedding with suguru and his ‘business partner.’ i mean, if suguru grows a spine and confesses, that is.”

on the other end of the zoom call, suguru’s smirk vanished as fast as it appeared, and he looked away, running a hand through his hair. “not happening,” he muttered, all but glaring at the screen. “it’s… complicated.”

gojo pouted, tilting his head in mock sympathy. “oh, come on. ‘complicated’? it’s not that deep. just throw her some wine, flash that tragic backstory, and she’ll be yours in no time.”

“it’s not that simple,” suguru snapped, though his face softened as he leaned back, sighing. 

“besides, we’re in… limbo, i guess. we’ve had our confessions, but there’s no label. not yet, anyway.”

“awww,” gojo teased, his voice dripping with feigned sympathy. 

“look at us! a bunch of grown men, all hung up on love troubles. what happened to the days when it was just work, money, and some good old-fashioned ego trips?”

“those days are over,” toji grunted, crossing his arms as he glanced at the screen. “but you’d know a thing or two about those ‘ego trips,’ wouldn’t you?”

suguru let out a snort of laughter, finally letting himself relax a little. “and don’t forget ryomen sukuna,” he added, the name alone making everyone groan. “that bastard practically swooped in to turn our business lives upside down and make everything more… interesting. joint venture or not, the guy’s insufferable. he’s like a cat, always hissing and scratching his way to the top.”

gojo laughed, tipping his drink toward the screen. “tell me about it. it’s like everyone has a thorn in their side when it comes to love these days.” 

he smirked, nudging toji. “and you, my friend, are no exception. so when’s the confession, huh? are we waiting on some fairytale moment here?”

toji rolled his eyes, swirling the last of his drink. “i’m not confessing to anyone,” he grumbled. “i’ve got megumi to think about.”

“right, right, megumi,” gojo said, drawing out the name with a grin that was anything but innocent. “and here i thought you liked y/n for yourself.”

“and here i thought you’d shut up at some point tonight,” toji shot back, but his lips betrayed him with a faint, reluctant smirk.

suguru leaned forward, his voice softer. “well, at least megumi’s happy with her around, right? maybe… it’s worth taking a chance.”

toji’s smirk faded, his expression thoughtful. “maybe.”

“see?” gojo beamed, practically giddy. “love is in the air, boys. even for the most stubborn among us.”

suguru shook his head, a smile creeping back onto his face. “well, here’s to complicated feelings and maybe, just maybe, getting them right someday.”

they all raised their glasses, clinking to their shared madness in work, love, and everything in between.

you flopped back on your bed, barely able to keep the grin off your face as you hit the facetime button for shoko. she picked up after a few rings, a cigarette lazily dangling from her fingers, eyebrows raised as she took in your expression.

“uh-oh. what’s got you looking like that?” she asked, smirking.

you let out a giddy little laugh, immediately burying your face in your hands. “shoko, i swear i’m losing it. i’m a grown woman, but i feel like a teenager. it’s embarrassing.”

“this better be good,” she drawled, putting the cigarette to her lips and leaning back, looking every bit the part of the unimpressed but totally-invested best friend.

“okay, okay,” you said, voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. “toji kissed me. twice — by accident, both times. twice, shoko!”

she let out a low whistle, blowing out a plume of smoke. “so the ‘brooding single dad’ finally made his move, huh? you know, twice starts to sound less like an accident and more like he’s got a thing for you.”

you laughed, covering your face with your hands. “oh my god, don’t say that! i can’t even handle it. and he’s just… so close all the time. it’s like every time i turn around, he’s there.”

“that sounds terrible,” she said, rolling her eyes in mock sympathy. “a tall, ridiculously hot single dad, right up in your personal space. how are you surviving?”

you groaned, flopping back dramatically. “it’s not just that! i mean, megumi’s there too, and he’s the cutest kid. he loves me, shoko, i’m actually losing my mind. i feel like i’m part of their lives, and it’s… weirdly nice?”

shoko’s smirk softened a little, her gaze warmer. “sounds like you’re finally finding something real,” she murmured, her voice thoughtful. “i mean, not just with toji, but… you know, with people. gojo insisted you needed someone to keep you on track, but honestly, it sounds like you’re just finding your own way.”

“thank you for not thinking i’m insane,” you muttered, grinning at her.

“please, i’ve been waiting for something juicy like this to pop up in your life,” she replied, flicking some ash into an ashtray with a smirk. “so tell me everything — i want the full rundown on these ‘accidental’ kisses.”

you launched into the details, recounting the flustered stammering, the way you could hardly breathe when he got that close, how you felt like you were in some kind of slow-motion rom-com. shoko didn’t bat an eye, laughing in all the right places, raising her eyebrows at the moments you whispered, and shaking her head whenever you sounded downright ridiculous.

“y’know,” she finally said as you caught your breath, “if this is what being your manager is gonna be like, i might just be here for it. international author and all,” she teased, quoting gojo.

“i’m just glad i have someone who gets it,” you admitted, voice softer. “this is all new to me… the book success, this... love life thing.”

she gave you a small, knowing smile. “well, get used to it. sounds like there’s a lot more coming your way.”

the month flew by in a series of stolen moments that made you feel like you were the protagonist in one of your own novels. 

and, true to his nature, toji somehow managed to sneak in a kiss (or two, or three, but who's counting?) whenever he found you alone at the studio, away from gojo's incessant commentary, the other voice actors, and the wandering eyes of your new manager, shoko ieiri.

you still couldn’t forget that first almost subtle kiss, right outside the recording booth. 

you’d just handed him his revised lines, trying to ignore the way his fingers brushed against yours as he took the pages.

“y’know, you keep handing me all these steamy lines,” he murmured, voice dropping, his mouth way too close to your ear. “someone might think you’re just giving me an excuse.”

“i-it’s for the story,” you stammered, and before you could process it, he leaned down, catching you in a quick, teasing kiss.

“mm. very convincing.” he smirked, straightening just as someone walked by.

“toji!” you hissed, glancing around like a guilty teenager.

“what? i thought it’d help with the performance.” he gave you a half-shrug, that lazy grin of his making your pulse jump. “gotta sell the romance, right?”

then there was the time in the elevator after one of his late recording sessions. you’d been babbling about something mundane, trying to fill the quiet, but he wasn’t paying attention to your words; instead, he just watched your mouth. 

before you knew it, the doors slid closed, and he had you pressed against the mirrored wall, his mouth on yours, hands braced on either side of your head.

“you know,” you whispered breathlessly when you finally broke apart, “if shoko sees us, she’s gonna kill me.”

“good thing we’re alone then,” he murmured, not bothering to step back, his eyes dropping to your lips. “wouldn’t want her thinking you’re getting… distracted on the job.”

“me?” you managed, swallowing a laugh. “you’re the one who can’t keep his hands to himself!”

“maybe i’ll try harder,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your jaw in a way that felt anything but apologetic. “or maybe i won’t.”

of course, he didn’t. 

the next week, you’d been huddled over a script in the empty break room, reviewing edits from gojo. you barely heard him come in before he slipped up behind you, one hand casually planted on the table as he leaned over your shoulder.

“need any help with those lines?” he asked, voice low, right against your ear.

you barely suppressed a shiver, trying to focus on the paper in your hands. “i, uh… no. no, i think i’ve got it.”

“you sure?” he murmured, lips grazing your ear this time. “because i think i could add a little… flair.”

you turned, and his face was right there, too close to pretend this was anything but what it was. 

before you could tell him off, he closed the gap, kissing you slow and deep, like he had all the time in the world.

“toji,” you finally managed, pulling away, your face burning. “we are at work!”

he shrugged, utterly unbothered. “yeah, but no one’s around, are they?”

you glared, trying to look serious, but he just leaned back, smirking. “besides, i’d say that counts as research.”

“research?”

he grinned, eyes twinkling with a playful light. “gotta stay in character, right?”

every encounter was a tug-of-war between professionalism and… whatever this was. you couldn’t deny you looked forward to the thrill of these secret kisses, even though you spent half your day looking over your shoulder, waiting for shoko to round a corner and catch you in the act.

toji, on the other hand, was infuriatingly nonchalant. like he didn’t care if anyone saw — like he almost wanted to be caught. and he never missed an opportunity to remind you of that.

“so, what’ll it be?” he asked one afternoon as you tried to dodge his latest attempt in the hallway. “you gonna keep hiding from me? or are you finally gonna admit you like it?”

“i’m not hiding,” you replied, trying to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks.

he laughed softly, the sound low and warm. “you’re a terrible liar.”

just then, footsteps echoed from around the corner. you froze, but toji just gave you one last teasing look and walked off, as if nothing had happened.

and maybe that was the worst part — no matter how many times he pulled you in, kissed you breathless, he could just walk away, leaving you wondering if you’d imagined it all.

toji fushiguro, love-struck fool of the century. 

and he hated it. 

he’d scoffed his way through plenty of rom-coms, rolling his eyes at any lovesick protagonist with that stupid, half-dazed smile, lips still parted like they’d just been kissed breathless. 

he never thought he’d be one of them. yet here he was, pacing around his apartment, occasionally touching his lips like some starry-eyed teenager.

“you’re acting like a damn idiot,” he muttered to himself, brushing a hand through his hair, but even that couldn’t erase the lovesick grin creeping onto his face. he barely noticed his phone buzzing with the weekly roster of sugar mamas and daddies, all waiting for their weekly breadcrumb texts from him. hell, he even felt guilty about it now. 

because compared to you? they didn’t stand a chance.

case in point: a text popped up from mona, the one who liked to send him extravagant gifts just for existing.

mona [7:40 pm]: missed u this week. dinner on friday, baby?

toji squinted at the message, thumb hovering over the keyboard, debating if he should even respond. yeah, he probably should. he sighed, cracking his knuckles before halfheartedly typing out a response.

you [7:45 pm]: kinda busy friday. rain check?

there. short and sweet. 

in a past life, he would’ve at least flirted his way out of it. 

but now? he couldn’t muster up anything more. 

god, you’ve got it bad, he thought, half-annoyed at himself as he imagined the smirk gojo would throw his way if he ever found out about this pathetic show of loyalty.

and speaking of the devil —

“toooji!” gojo sang as he slid into the studio the next day, obnoxiously loud.

“man, you’ve been… awfully serious lately. not a single call from mona? or was it alicia? both?”

toji barely glanced up, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible. “i’ve been busy. work.”

“work,” gojo echoed, eyes narrowing with a knowing gleam. “right. and what kind of work are we talking about? the kind that comes with a certain… author’s name attached?”

toji’s lip twitched, but he ignored him. he figured the less he reacted, the less ammo gojo would have.

“oh, come on!” gojo crowed, leaning over the soundboard with an irritating grin. “you really think i haven’t noticed? the lingering looks, the way you sneak off for like ten minutes every time she’s around. you’re a mess, toji.”

toji rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. “i’m not a damn kid, satoru.”

“coulda fooled me,” gojo teased. “god, you look like you’re on the verge of a love confession every time i see you two. why not just go full rom-com mode and declare it in the rain or something?”

“shut your damn mouth,” toji muttered, feeling his ears heat. 

the idea had crossed his mind. he thought about it every damn time he saw you smile or catch his eye across the studio. 

and it was driving him insane.

“speaking of confessions,” gojo continued, not missing a beat, “heard you’ve been turning down… basically everyone these days. sugar mamas, sugar daddies — wow, your self-control’s really kicked in.”

toji groaned, half in frustration, half in something else. it was true. he hadn’t even looked at his inbox in days. 

just not interested, he’d told himself, ignoring how pathetic that sounded.

“oh, oh, oh, don’t tell me…” gojo grinned, the realization dawning on his face. “you’ve gone monogamous, haven’t you?” he snorted. 

“god, you’re whipped.”

“i’ll let you live if you shut up now.”

gojo snickered, unbothered. “what? i’m just giving you some friendly advice, toji. tell her already. do the whole romantic declaration thing. maybe some roses. oh, or better yet, just kiss her the way you keep fantasizing about.”

toji rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “fantasizing, right.”

“admit it, you’re lovesick,” gojo replied with a smirk. “how’s that feel, big guy?”

just then, his phone buzzed again, and he glanced down to see a new message from larry, one of his sugar daddies.

larry: fancy a weekend trip? all expenses on me, baby ;)

toji groaned and quickly sent back a “no thanks, busy,” before slipping his phone away. he looked up to find gojo staring at him, practically vibrating with amusement.

“see? whipped!” gojo announced, loud enough for half the floor to hear.

“keep it down,” toji growled, but he couldn’t keep the ghost of a smile off his face. he knew gojo was right, even if he hated admitting it. he was done pretending it wasn’t true. 

hell, he could barely go an hour without wanting to text you, wanting to see you.

“you don’t get it,” toji said, more to himself than gojo. “she’s… different.”

“oh, i bet she is,” gojo said, nodding like he understood. “now, are you gonna be an idiot and keep pouting like you’ve got something to say? or are you gonna tell her?”

toji didn’t answer, just glared at him before heading for the studio door. but he knew gojo was right. 

he’d run out of excuses, out of distractions. maybe it was time he did something about this ridiculous crush.

as he walked out, he could practically hear gojo’s smirk follow him. 

great.

toji could barely keep his heart from jumping out of his chest as he slipped the little origami ring into your hand, all smooth-like, muttering, “megumi made it for you.” 

but even as he said it, he could feel the heat creeping up his neck, knowing damn well it was mostly his work.

he’d sat down with megumi, who, after a long day of being “helpful,” had finally agreed to show him how to fold paper into something that resembled a ring. and it hadn’t exactly been easy.

“so, kiddo,” toji had started, fidgeting with the corner of a bright blue square of paper. “think you can show me how to, uh… fold this thing into a ring? for… you know… someone.”

megumi squinted up at him, hands on his hips like a pint-sized supervisor. “for her, right?”

toji cleared his throat, looking away. “yeah. something like that.”

megumi snorted, already getting a bit too wise for his age. “you don’t even know how to fold paper, daddy?”

toji groaned. “it’s harder than it looks, alright? just show me how you do it.”

the kid just shook his head, exasperated, but started showing him each fold with careful, precise fingers. they worked through a couple attempts, most of which looked nothing like rings and ended up in the growing pile of crumpled paper on the table. 

it was late, and toji couldn’t remember the last time he’d concentrated this hard on something so… simple. why the hell am i doing this? he thought, glancing at the clock. 

he had work in a few hours, a whole recording schedule to plan for, and yet here he was, folding paper with his son.

“think she’ll like it?” toji asked, holding up one of the finished attempts.

megumi shrugged, but he looked oddly serious as he studied the makeshift ring. “i think she will. ‘cause it’s from you.”

something in toji’s chest squeezed at that, and he clapped a hand on megumi’s shoulder. “don’t go telling anyone about this, alright? not even your uncle gojo. especially not him.”

“why?” megumi asked, genuinely curious.

“because he’ll never let me hear the end of it,” toji muttered, trying to ignore how ridiculous he sounded even to himself. 

yeah, making a paper ring at one in the morning for someone? absolutely insane, but he couldn’t shake the thrill of it, of imagining you smiling when he handed it over.

so, fast-forward to now: the ring was in your hand, your fingers slowly unfolding to reveal it. you glanced up at him, eyes soft with a mix of confusion and surprise, and damn if he didn’t feel his heart do a backflip right then and there.

“he… made this for me?” you asked, voice quiet, almost disbelieving.

“yeah,” toji replied, trying to sound casual but failing spectacularly. “thought you’d like it.” 

he rubbed the back of his neck, fighting the urge to look anywhere but at you, but he couldn’t resist sneaking a glance at your reaction.

you turned the ring over in your hand, a small smile tugging at your lips. “you sure it was megumi who made this?”

his throat went dry. “uh… mostly,” he admitted, feeling that warmth creeping up his neck again. “i might’ve… helped a little.”

“a little, huh?” you teased, eyes sparkling as you slipped the ring onto your finger. “so, is this, like… an official thing now? sealing the deal or whatever?”

toji felt his mouth go dry, a mixture of nerves and excitement coursing through him. 

he hadn’t planned on this meaning anything official — well, maybe he had, but he hadn’t exactly thought it through. 

yet seeing you wearing it, even if it was just a silly piece of folded paper, felt… right.

he shrugged, trying to keep his voice steady. “just thought you deserved somethin’ nice,” he said gruffly. “even if it’s… you know, paper.”

your fingers brushed his, a soft, barely-there touch, and he swore his heart skipped a beat. “i think it’s perfect, toji. no one’s ever… done something like this for me before.”

he felt his chest tighten, the weight of everything he wanted to say pressing against his ribcage. 

all those dumb, sappy things he’d been feeling lately, the way he couldn’t stop thinking about you, the way he felt like a lovesick idiot every time you smiled at him. but he couldn’t bring himself to say any of it, not yet. 

so instead, he settled for squeezing your hand, his thumb tracing a soft circle over your knuckles.

“good,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “’cause i don’t think i could stand it if you didn’t like it.”

you laughed softly, leaning into him, and he swore he felt the world narrow down to just the two of you, the faint rustle of the paper ring against your finger.

“guess i’ll have to keep it safe then, huh?” you murmured, looking up at him with that smile that made his heart do all kinds of dumb things.

“yeah,” he replied, voice low, unable to stop himself from leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “yeah, you do.”

toji’s eyes nearly pop out of his head when he spots you at the office, that damn paper ring dangling from your phone charm. his paper ring — okay, technically megumi’s paper ring, but still, the one he’d folded with his own hands. he’d thought you might just tuck it away in a drawer or something. 

but here you were, letting it swing around proudly like some priceless gem. he’s not gonna lie — his heart just about catapults itself out of his chest.

he’s doing his best to keep his cool, but the urge to grab you right then and there, haul you over to a quiet corner, and ask you out on a real date feels stronger than ever. propose even. 

god, if he wasn’t too far gone already.

“what’s that little add-on?” gojo’s smug voice cuts through the air, and you laugh, holding up your phone so the charm dangles freely. gojo squints, pretending he’s inspecting it, but there’s a glint in his eye. “who’s the secret admirer, huh? must be a serious romantic to give you something… hand-crafted.”

you shrug, grinning a little too wide. “oh, just… something someone special made for me.”

toji’s face heats up, and he tries to look busy adjusting his microphone levels. 

dammit, did you have to say it like that? he catches gojo’s gaze lingering on him, eyebrows raised. 

oh, he’s got an idea all right.

“hm, special someone?” gojo teases, nudging you, then pretending to look around the room as if your admirer might jump out from behind the studio wall. “wonder who that could be, huh?”

you shrug, pretending like it’s nothing, though you shoot a sly glance in toji’s direction. “maybe he’ll make a move someday. he’s pretty bold but… you know, takes his time.”

toji’s pulse hammers away like a damn drumline, and he clears his throat, trying to sound nonchalant. “yeah, maybe he’s just… tryin’ to find the right time or somethin’.”

“aww,” gojo coos, looking between you and toji with a mischievous smile. “poor guy. wonder if he knows he’s got competition. think he can handle it?”

toji rolls his eyes, shooting gojo a glare. “ain’t nobody competin’,” he says, voice low but firm. “whoever this guy is… he’s got it handled.”

you laugh softly, the sound filling the room, and you hold up the charm, letting it dangle right in front of him as if it’s some sort of challenge. “think he’s ready to seal the deal?”

toji’s gaze flickers to the paper ring, then to you, and suddenly he feels this overwhelming urge to just… go for it. 

he could give you a real ring, sure, someday maybe, but there’s something about this little thing you’ve turned into a charm that makes it feel so much… bigger.

“actually…” he mutters, feeling heat crawl up his neck. “i was thinkin’… maybe i could take you out this weekend. just us.” he looks at you, eyes intent, and there’s a rare seriousness in his voice. “someplace nice. no studio, no interruptions.”

you blink, clearly a bit surprised, but your smile grows, softer now, almost shy. 

“are you asking me out, toji?”

he shrugs, feigning nonchalance but failing miserably. “yeah. maybe… maybe i am.” he reaches out, tugging the charm lightly, letting it dangle between you. “figured it was about time we took this thing seriously.”

gojo bursts into laughter, clapping his hands. “ohhh, i knew it! all this sneaking around, and here you are, finally getting down on one knee — metaphorically, of course.”

you nudge gojo, laughing. “shut it, satoru.”

but toji doesn’t even hear gojo’s teasing anymore. all he sees is you, with that damn paper ring swinging from your phone, smiling at him in a way that makes his chest feel tight. 

and suddenly, the idea of getting down on one knee doesn’t seem all that far-fetched after all.

“so… this weekend?” he asks, his voice a little softer now, just for you.

you nod, still beaming. “this weekend,” you confirm.

toji, scrolling through your message with a slight frown, reads your rain check about having to edit your book draft instead of going out this weekend. 

he's in the middle of what can only be called a hurricane of preparation — megumi is zipping around the house, declaring he’ll help his dad look “very handsome” for his “playdate with the pretty lady.” in the midst of this, toji can’t even get a word in to explain that, uh, the plans may be changing.

princess [7:08 pm]: hey! i am SO sorry, but i may have to rain check today. i really thought i’d finish up the first draft of the dragon king’s sequel. but i got so behind, and now i have to edit this whole thing </3 you [7:09 pm]: can’t believe my competition is a bunch of words on a page, but…i get it.  you [7:09 pm]: any chance you could still use some company for that “editing?”

he’s barely finished typing his message when megumi tugs at his shirt, holding up a navy button-down that practically drags on the floor.

“isn’t this the one she likes, dad? wear this!” he says with a look that might as well be called “fushiguro persuasion.” toji chuckles, ruffling megumi’s hair.

“hey, buddy,” he says, crouching down to megumi’s level. “plans changed a little. she’s gotta work, so i’m going over there instead, alright?”

megumi narrows his eyes in the way only an eight-year-old can. “so... no fancy date?”

“nah, kid,” toji says, trying to sound casual as he rolls up his sleeves. “i’m just gonna keep her company while she works.”

megumi grins, a mischievous glint in his eye. “so like, a home date?” he asks, with all the implications an eight-year-old can muster.

toji chuckles, ruffling his son’s hair. “something like that.” he gives megumi a quick fist bump. “hold down the fort for me, alright? i’ll be back before bedtime.”

and with that, he heads out, his heart pounding just a little too fast for his own liking. he’s ready to face you with a low-key offer: if you’ll allow it, he’ll stay in for a “working date” and keep you company, just the two of you, with no plans other than being there.

toji ^.^ [7:15 pm]: well, what if the mountain comes to you instead of you coming to the mountain? i’ll bring snacks and stay out of your way. i’ll even help you proofread if you need it.

your heart nearly stops when you see toji’s message, and you almost drop your phone… straight into your bowl of instant noodles. 

he wants to come over? to your place? 

you glance around your apartment, and it’s a scene straight out of a disaster movie.

there’s a pile of bills stacked haphazardly on the coffee table, all of which you’re waiting for shoko to graciously come sort through for you. right next to it is a mountain of pr packages you haven’t had a chance to open — typewriters from some luxury brand, fountain pens with gold-tipped nibs, notebooks wrapped in satin, and… is that your favorite set of lingerie drying on top of the lampshade?

“oh, god.”

you glance at the time and frantically calculate: how long would it take to clear at least half of this mess? 

no, scratch that. how long would it take to get yourself presentable? you rush to your room, tossing things left and right in an attempt to find something clean and comfortable, feeling your face heat up just imagining toji seeing your place like this.

you [7:17 pm]: are you sure you wanna come over? i’m warning you. it’s, uh, very lived-in here. toji ^.^ [7:20 pm]: hey, i’m not gonna judge. besides, how bad can it be?

you stare at his reply, chewing on your lip, and quickly text back.

you [7:21 pm]: imagine a tornado hit a bookstore you [7:21 pm]: and a clothing store you [7:21 pm]: and, maybe a warehouse full of typewriters and fountain pens. toji ^.^ [7:23 pm]: you know what? sounds cozy. i’ll bring some snacks and maybe a cleaning crew if necessary 😂

the doorbell rings before you could even realise, and your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. 

you’ve got a solid three seconds to take it all in: you’re wearing a three-day-old shirt that, if you recall correctly, was originally your dad’s from the 80s, your hair’s in a bun so messy it might as well be a bird’s nest, and there are bags of trash you’ve hastily crammed into every drawer within reach.

there’s no hiding the pile of unopened pr packages by the couch, though — one of which has a half-torn label boasting a “vintage, limited-edition typewriter experience.” right next to that, there’s a fancy pen set, still in its plastic wrap, resting on top of… is that a stack of half-eaten takeout containers? 

oh, god. why couldn’t you have had a warning before he showed up?

you take a shaky breath and yank the door open, plastering a smile on your face as if this is all completely normal.

"hey," toji says, looking you up and down with an easy grin. “lookin’ cozy.”

“uh... thanks?” you blurt out, mentally slapping yourself. cozy was definitely one way to put it. 

“come on in. sorry about the… ambiance. i wasn’t really expecting to have a, uh, guest.”

you step back, and he strides in, immediately taking in the organized chaos that is your apartment. his eyes linger on the tower of pr boxes and that unmistakable stack of overdue bills. he whistles low under his breath, clearly trying not to laugh.

"so, this is the writer life, huh?" he asks, picking up a typewriter package with a raised eyebrow. "fancy stuff. do you, uh… actually use any of this?”

“i try,” you mumble, crossing your arms defensively, though you can’t help smiling. “but the whole ‘starving artist’ vibe means these typewriters just end up as very expensive paperweights. which, ironically, i can’t even afford.”

toji laughs, setting the box down before glancing around again. his gaze falls on the lampshade, where your black lace lingerie is very prominently draped. you feel your face go hot as he smirks.

“i like the decor,” he says, nodding toward the lingerie with a wicked grin.

“oh, my god,” you groan, covering your face. “listen, i was not expecting company today, so please, feel free to avert your eyes.”

"nah, i think it's got… character," he teases, leaning in just a little too close. “besides, i don’t mind a little mess.”

"well, great, because this is as real as it gets," you reply, huffing as you try to look anywhere but at him. "you’re in the trenches now, toji.”

he chuckles, moving to pick up a crumpled, half-empty bag of chips from the couch. "hey, trenches i can handle. i’ve got an eight-year-old at home, remember? my place is an organized war zone on a good day."

you snort, still feeling a bit mortified. “and here i was thinking i could at least fake having my life together in front of you.”

“oh, please,” he says, brushing a stray hair from your cheek. “you should’ve seen me back in college. this? this is nothing. plus,” he adds, his voice dropping slightly, “it’s kind of… cute.”

cute. did he actually just call your disaster zone cute?

before you can respond, he grabs one of the unopened PR boxes and raises an eyebrow. “so, what’s in this one? wanna have an impromptu unboxing?”

“toji, i swear if you open that —”

“c’mon,” he says, grinning as he peels the tape back. “think of it as the highlight of our first ‘official’ homebody date.”

you shake your head, both amused and exasperated, watching him fish out an overly ornate fountain pen, which he holds up like it’s the holy grail.

“look at this thing,” he says, turning it over with a smirk. “you could probably sign million-dollar deals with this alone.”

“or, you know, sign off on all my overdue bills.” you laugh, unable to stay embarrassed. “go on, add it to the pile. it’s practically a landfill at this point.”

he laughs, setting the pen down and stepping closer, his voice low. “listen, i get it. my place might not have bills stacked up, but it’s full of… reminders that i’m a work in progress too.”

you glance up at him, and suddenly, all the embarrassment melts away. you’re in your messy apartment, standing in an ancient t-shirt with this man who’s managed to turn your chaotic night into something unexpectedly comforting.

"thanks for not… judging," you say softly, feeling yourself relax for the first time since he walked in. “i know i’m not exactly put together, but —”

“hey.” he cups your face with a gentle smile. “don’t worry about it. you’re perfect like this. messy, comfy, real.”

before you can stop yourself, you lean in, and he meets you halfway, his lips brushing softly against yours. it’s not hurried, not desperate. just… perfect.

it hits you about a second too late — you’re kissing toji in the middle of your apartment, clutching a bag of trash. oh god, and it reeks of stale mountain dew and monster. 

classy.

you pull back with a mortified look, though toji’s face is the exact opposite, his smirk spreading like he’s just unlocked a secret treasure.

“don’t stop now,” he murmurs, glancing down at the offending trash bag in your hand. “but, uh… maybe lose that first?”

“yeah, i think we’re past the first-date mystique at this point,” you mutter, feeling your face heat up as you chuck the bag towards the corner, praying it’s out of sight enough to ignore.

“oh, yeah, you’re really blowing my mind here,” he teases, chuckling as he takes in the apartment around you. “all the caffeine fumes, that questionable takeout smell. smells like home already.”

“oh, shut up,” you laugh, covering your face, because this man is about two seconds from making you combust. “i’m surprised you even wanted to stay for dinner after walking into this disaster.”

“well,” he says, trying and failing to look innocent, “you haven’t seen the other disaster i brought.”

you raise an eyebrow as he gestures to the counter, where multiple takeout bags are somehow all stacked up.

“toji, what is all this?” you blink, shuffling over to the spread.

“look,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “i couldn’t decide what you’d like, so i just… went with options.”

options is a gross understatement. 

there’s a bag from the local thai place with an array of curries and pad see ew, another filled with boxes of sushi, and an entire tray of tacos, complete with mini bottles of hot sauce. you spot a large pizza box (of course), and is that… baklava?

“uh, toji? are we feeding a small country tonight?” you laugh, bewildered. “what were you thinking?”

“honestly? wasn’t thinking. just grabbed whatever looked good,” he says, giving you a sheepish grin. “but c’mon, if you don’t like one thing, there’s a million others.”

you give him a look, half-amused, half-exasperated, but it’s endearing in a way only toji could pull off. who even does this?

“i mean, don’t get me wrong,” you say, nudging a pizza box to make space for the taco tray, “i’m glad you thought of all the options, but… what exactly were you planning for us to do with all this?”

he shrugs, coming up beside you to open one of the sushi boxes. “eat as much as we want, throw the rest in the fridge. ‘course, that’s only if you’re not gonna make me eat it all myself.”

you snort, imagining him single-handedly tackling all of it. “if you can handle it, be my guest.”

he leans in close, voice dropping to a rough whisper. “oh, i can handle it.”

you roll your eyes, but you’re grinning like an idiot. “god, you’re impossible.”

“hey, you invited me over,” he says, opening a little container of wasabi and gesturing for you to try a piece of sushi. 

“besides, i figured it’s a good way to cover all bases. what if you didn’t like tacos? or pizza? or… god forbid, baklava?”

you can’t help laughing as you pop the sushi in your mouth, appreciating the deliciously over-the-top effort he put into this. “for the record, i love all of it. but you, on the other hand, have a questionable appetite if you thought this much food for two people was necessary.”

“trust me, if this is what it takes to keep you happy, i’ll bring twice as much next time,” he says, dead serious.

“oh no, please, i don’t think i can handle that.” you give him a look, incredulous. “i’ll end up eating myself into a food coma, and then what? you gonna carry me to bed?”

“well,” he says, leaning in again with a devilish grin, “i wouldn’t mind. but i was thinkin’ more along the lines of a movie marathon to work off the calories.”

“movie marathon and food coma?” you raise an eyebrow. “toji, you’re dangerously close to making this a slumber party.”

he shrugs, his face playful but there’s something softer in his eyes. “would that be the worst thing?”

you feel a flutter in your chest, something that almost surprises you with how much it settles you. here he is, surrounded by mountains of takeout and your chaotic apartment mess, looking like this is exactly where he wants to be. 

it’s… kinda nice.

“alright,” you say, nudging him with your elbow. “you win. let’s have the weirdest, most food-filled homebody date ever. just, uh, ignore the mess. and don’t laugh at me if i pass out halfway through a movie.”

“promise.” he raises a hand, eyes glinting with humor. “cross my heart.”

the two of you start to dig in, laughing as you make jokes about how this is probably the strangest spread of food you’ve ever seen. every now and then, he’ll steal a quick kiss when he thinks he can get away with it, and you’re reminded just how much this man has wormed his way under your skin.

you’ve got no idea where this is going, but, staring at his smirk as he attempts to down an entire taco in one bite, you kinda hope it’s somewhere good.

the two of you stand side by side at the sink, the remnants of your feast sprawled across the counter. you’re scrubbing a particularly stubborn pan when you decide it’s the perfect time to hand toji the aux.

“alright, mister fancy chef,” you say, smirking as you pass him your phone. “you get to choose the soundtrack for our post-dinner clean-up. no pressure.”

“oh, no pressure at all,” he deadpans, scrolling through your playlist. you catch a glimpse of the mischievous grin creeping onto his face as he lands on an old favorite.

the unmistakable intro of dancing queen by abba fills the kitchen, and your mouth drops open in disbelief. 

“seriously? this? right now?” you laugh, a mix of amusement and embarrassment bubbling inside you.

“hey, don’t knock it till you try it!” he shoots back, raising his hands as if to defend his choice. “it’s a classic. plus, it takes me back to that night at the bar when you were all... well, you.”

you roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face. “i was a mess.”

“yeah, but you were a cute mess.” he chuckles, and you feel the heat rise in your cheeks at the compliment.

as the upbeat tune plays on, you both start washing the dishes, swaying your hips to the rhythm. 

“you can dance, you can jive…” the lyrics echo through the air, and toji’s energy pulls you in. 

you catch him glancing at you with that smirk again, and the way his eyes light up makes your stomach flutter.

“just imagine,” he says, a teasing glint in his eye, “the two of us back at that bar. you, all over the place, and me just trying to figure out how to survive the night.”

you laugh, feeling nostalgic. “yeah, and then i somehow managed to puke all over your shoes.”

“my favorite shoes,” he says dramatically, rolling his eyes, but there’s a playful warmth in his tone. “but, honestly? worth it.”

the song builds, and you’re both lost in the moment, laughter and soap suds flying everywhere.

“see that girl, watch that scene…”

“how did we go from that night to this?” you ponder aloud, glancing at him. “i mean, here we are, washing dishes and dancing to abba.”

“it’s an upgrade he says, giving you a lopsided grin. “you know, from drunken disasters to… kitchen romance.”

“romance?” you raise an eyebrow, challenging him.

“oh, come on,” he says, stepping closer, the teasing slipping away from his tone. “there’s definitely something romantic about this. a pair of idiots like us, sharing this weird, beautiful mess.”

you can’t help but blush, your heart racing as you take in the way his gaze lingers on your lips. “digging the dancing queen…”

“you know, if this song gets stuck in my head, i’m blaming you,” you quip, trying to deflect the intensity of the moment.

“good luck with that,” he chuckles, moving even closer, the space between you almost nonexistent now. 

“night is young and the music’s high…”

his fingers brush against yours, the innocent touch sending sparks up your arm. the beat continues, your breaths getting heavier as the song builds up to the chorus. 

“dancing queen, feel the beat of the tambourine…”

you’re both staring at each other, and suddenly, the kitchen feels too small, too charged with the electricity of the moment.

“toji…” you start, but the words die on your lips as he leans in, his intent clear.

“just one kiss,” he murmurs, the corner of his mouth lifting in a seductive smile. “for old time’s sake.”

before you can reply, he closes the gap, his lips capturing yours with a gentle yet insistent pressure. 

it’s like a scene from a movie — the soft warmth of his mouth against yours, the playful scent of the takeout wafting around you, the soft glow of the kitchen light illuminating his features.

you melt into him, heart racing as you kiss him back, losing yourself in the moment. the lyrics of the song seem to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you — the world outside disappearing entirely. 

when you finally pull away, both of you breathless, there’s a glint of something deeper in his eyes. 

“wow,” he breathes, still holding your gaze. “i think i like this new tradition.”

you chuckle, still buzzing from the kiss. “yeah, who knew washing dishes could be so… eventful?”

“well,” he says, leaning in closer again, voice low and teasing, “we haven’t even finished the song yet. you ready for round two?”

you’re half-dazed, your heart racing as you sit on the kitchen counter, toji’s arms caging you in, keeping you close. dancing queen continues to play in the background, but all you can focus on is the warmth radiating from him and the way his breath mingles with yours.

“you have got to stop making these kisses a regular thing,” you tease, half-heartedly trying to sound serious, but the playful glint in your eyes gives you away.

“especially when i’m propped up on my kitchen counter like this,” you add, trying to maintain some semblance of decorum, but you can’t help but smile as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer.

“liar,” he laughs, a low rumble that sends a thrill through you. “if you didn’t like it, you would have pushed me away, not this.” he gestures to your legs around him, grinning like the cat that got the cream.

you roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the warmth spreading through your cheeks. “okay, fine. maybe i’m a little into it,” you admit, and his grin widens, satisfaction dancing in his eyes.

“a little?” he echoes, raising an eyebrow, his hands tightening around your waist. “you’re a whole lot more than a little, and you know it.”

the cheeky banter flows easily between you, and as you gaze into his eyes, you realize just how much you’ve come to enjoy this — the closeness, the warmth, the undeniable chemistry crackling in the air.

“you know, it’s a bit unfair,” you say, tilting your head back slightly to meet his gaze. “here i’m trying to be responsible and not let you distract me, and yet…” you trail off, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt.

“and yet,” he finishes, leaning in slightly, his breath warm against your skin. “here i am, being irresistible.”

“definitely not irresistible,” you say, feigning indignation. but the way your heart races gives you away again.

“oh, come on,” he smirks, tilting his head slightly. “who else do you know can kiss you while washing dishes?”

you laugh, shaking your head, and the movement sends a wave of giddiness through both of you. “you might be right about that one,” you concede, biting your lip.

the song transitions into another upbeat section, and toji shifts his weight slightly, nudging your legs apart just enough to step closer, creating a tighter cocoon of warmth between you. 

“so, what now?” he asks, his voice dropping an octave, the playful tone replaced with something more serious, more intimate.

“what now?” you echo, feeling the tension shift slightly, the air thick with possibilities. “we could, um… finish washing dishes?”

“how boring,” he murmurs, and before you can say anything else, he dips his head down, capturing your lips again in a slow, lingering kiss that makes your head spin.

this kiss is different — softer, more explorative, as if he’s savoring the moment, the taste of you lingering on his lips. you respond eagerly, forgetting all about the dishes, the mess, everything else fading away until it’s just the two of you.

when you finally break apart, breathless, he grins down at you, that charming smirk making your heart flutter. “that’s what i’m talking about,” he says, a satisfied gleam in his eyes.

“toji, we really should —”

“don’t say it,” he interrupts, shaking his head with an exaggerated look of horror. 

“don’t ruin the moment with responsibility. just… let’s enjoy this.”

you can’t help but laugh again, the tension between you easing as you lean back against the countertop, your heart racing in a way that feels undeniably good.

“enjoying this, huh?” you murmur, running your fingers through your hair, still feeling the heat of his body against yours.

“yeah,” he replies, that charming smile still plastered on his face. “just two people enjoying a perfectly normal evening — you know, singing abba, eating takeout, and making out in your messy kitchen.”

“the most normal thing ever,” you agree, rolling your eyes, but you can’t suppress the smile that breaks across your face.

“so,” he says, tilting his head, his expression turning slightly more serious. “how about we make this a regular thing? you know, minus the messy kitchen. maybe my place next time?”

your heart skips a beat at the suggestion, and you find yourself nodding before you can think twice. “yeah, i’d like that.”

“great,” he says, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “but for now, let’s get back to the dishes, dancing queen.”

“fine, but only if you promise to keep playing abba,” you reply, giving him a mock-serious look.

“deal,” he chuckles, and as you both start scrubbing the remaining dishes, the music playing softly in the background, you realize you wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.

toji walks into his house, the dopey grin plastered across his face like he just won the lottery. 

his heart feels light, still buzzing from the night with you, and he’s practically floating as he kicks off his shoes and heads to the living room. 

he stops dead in his tracks when he sees gojo sprawled on the couch, a half-empty bottle of whiskey in one hand and a look of sheer mischief on his face.

“what the hell are you doing here?” toji asks, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably as he can’t help but grin back.

gojo lifts the bottle in a mock toast. “just your friendly neighborhood babysitter, here to keep an eye on megumi,” he says, glancing over to where megumi is sound asleep, sprawled on the floor with a gaming console still clutched in his tiny hands. “figured i’d check out your bar situation while i was at it.” he gestures to the empty bottles lined up on the table. “you know, for quality control.”

toji rolls his eyes but can’t suppress the chuckle escaping his lips. “you’re a real piece of work, you know that?” he says, moving closer.

gojo leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, a grin spreading across his face as he studies toji’s expression. “but seriously, you look like you just got off cloud nine. spill. what happened?”

toji’s grin widens even more, and he can’t help but let out a little giggle, feeling giddy. “you’re not gonna believe this,” he starts, plopping down on the couch next to gojo, who leans in closer, eager for the details. 

“it was… well, it was amazing.”

“amazing? now you’re really making me curious!” gojo presses, his eyes sparkling with interest. “tell me everything! every little detail!”

toji glances back towards the sleeping megumi, suddenly feeling a bit shy about sharing all the intimate details. “okay, okay. so, we were just supposed to have dinner, but it turned into this whole thing.”

“dinner? boooring. give me the juicy stuff!” gojo teases, waving his hand dramatically. “i want the scandalous details! were there kisses involved?”

toji feels his cheeks flush, and he can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous this all feels. “yeah, there were some kisses… and then we ended up washing dishes together, and somehow —”

“washing dishes? how romantic!” gojo interrupts, dramatically placing a hand on his chest as if he’s been mortally wounded. “you’re a true romantic, toji.”

“shut up!” toji retorts, laughing harder now. “but it was nice, okay? we were just… comfortable with each other, you know? and then we ended up kissing while the song was playing.”

“which song? was it a love song? was it dancing queen?” gojo leans in closer, eyes wide with excitement. “tell me you two were blasting abba and getting all lovey-dovey!”

“yeah, actually!” toji can’t help but laugh again, the memory flooding back. “we were. it was so ridiculous, but it felt so right at that moment.”

“ridiculous how?” gojo presses, leaning back with a smirk. “were you two dancing around the kitchen like a couple of high-schoolers?”

“pretty much,” toji admits, a sheepish grin crossing his face. “i mean, it just happened, and i couldn’t help myself. i’ve never felt like this before.”

gojo raises an eyebrow, leaning back with a knowing smirk. “so, what you’re saying is that you’re head over heels for y/n? you’ve gone soft on us, toji.”

“yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” toji says, trying to sound annoyed but failing as he can’t help but feel giddy about it all. “but i think this is different. she makes me feel… i don’t know, like i’m actually living instead of just existing?”

gojo’s expression softens slightly, nodding in understanding. “that’s deep, man. i’m genuinely happy for you. but seriously, how did you go from makeouts to dinner to feelings so fast?”

“honestly? i have no idea,” toji shrugs, still riding that high. “but it just felt natural. like we were meant to do this.”

gojo is quiet for a moment, taking a swig from the bottle. 

“damn, it sounds like you really like her.”

“like? it’s more than that, i think,” toji admits, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “i’ve never let myself feel this way about anyone, and now i can’t stop smiling like an idiot.”

“good. you should let yourself feel,” gojo says, his tone lightening again. 

“just don’t forget you’re still my bro and not some mushy romantic lead in a romcom.”

toji snorts. “right, because i’m so good at playing it cool.”

“exactly,” gojo grins. “now, what’s the next step in this romance novel? are you going to take her out on an official date, or are you just going to keep sneaking kisses in her kitchen?”

toji thinks for a moment, that dopey grin returning. 

“i want to take her out. something special. not just a random dinner but a real date.”

“awww, look at you being all suave!” gojo teases, clapping him on the shoulder. “i’m actually proud of you, man. just don’t screw it up.”

“thanks for the vote of confidence,” toji rolls his eyes but can’t help but feel encouraged.

“now, let’s celebrate your new relationship status! i say we finish off the rest of these bottles and toast to your love life!” gojo suggests, already grabbing for another bottle.

toji chuckles, shaking his head. “you’re going to end up getting us both in trouble, you know that?”

“who cares? tonight’s all about you, my guy! let’s make some bad decisions!” gojo grins, and as toji laughs, the two of them settle in for a night of ridiculous stories and plans for the future — the dopey grin still plastered on toji’s face.

the day of the audiobook launch dawned bright and buzzing with excitement at gojo-sonic, and the atmosphere was electric. employees and investors milled about the sleek, modern venue, the air filled with chatter and the faint sound of clinking glasses. 

it was a low-key affair, but the anticipation crackled like static electricity in the air. you were among the few chosen to celebrate this moment, standing on the cusp of something big.

you had spent hours getting ready, and with shoko’s help, you looked stunning in your gown. it was a flowing number that hugged your curves just right, accentuating your figure while allowing you to move with grace. your hair was styled in soft waves, framing your face perfectly, and your makeup enhanced your features without overshadowing them. you caught glimpses of yourself in the reflective surfaces, a wave of pride swelling in your chest as you realized just how much effort went into this moment.

toji, on the other hand, was a mix of nervous energy and utter admiration. dressed sharply in a tailored suit, he felt a blend of pride and anxiety as he watched you mingle with the guests. but the moment his eyes landed on you in that gown, his body betrayed him. 

a rush of heat shot through him, and before he could even think, there it was — a very real, very embarrassing hard-on that he scrambled to cover up.

“shit, not now,” he muttered under his breath, cursing himself for being such a damn cliché. he quickly shifted his stance, pretending to adjust his tie as he tried to focus on anything other than the vision of you in front of him. 

like a decent man should, right?

“toji! you okay?” gojo’s voice cut through his thoughts, a smirk creeping across his face. he was leaning against the bar, a glass of something strong in hand, eyeing toji with amusement. “you look like you just saw a ghost.”

“i’m fine,” toji snapped a little too quickly, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. “just… adjusting my suit.” he gestured wildly, trying to deflect the attention away from his embarrassment.

“uh-huh. sure,” gojo replied, barely hiding his laughter. “just keep it together. we wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself in front of everyone, especially her.” he nodded subtly towards you, who were now laughing with suguru, your charm radiating like a warm glow.

toji shot him a glare, a mix of irritation and amusement battling for dominance on his face. “thanks for the reminder, genius.”

the event continued, and you were seamlessly blending into the crowd, engaging in conversations with stakeholders and employees, your confidence shining through. 

when you shared a laugh with suguru, toji couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy at how effortlessly charming you were. why the hell can’t i just say something nice instead of standing here like an idiot?

“there she is,” toji mumbled to himself, catching a glimpse of you as you made your way to the makeshift stage for the speeches. he admired how you carried yourself with such poise, the way your eyes sparkled with excitement. and in that moment, he was utterly captivated.

as you stepped up to the microphone, a hush fell over the crowd. 

“thank you all for being here today,” you began, your voice steady and clear, filled with warmth. “this launch means so much to me, and i couldn’t have done it without all the support from my friends and family. especially from those at gojo-sonic, who believed in this project.”

toji watched you intently, his heart swelling with pride. this was your moment, and you were absolutely shining. 

but as you spoke, he felt that familiar urge to approach you, to wrap his arms around you and tell you just how incredible you looked. 

but no, he stood rooted to the spot, reminding himself of the conversation they had before about maintaining a professional facade.

“and of course, a huge thank you to my amazing voice actor, toji fushiguro,” you continued, and the crowd erupted into applause, pulling him back into reality. the sound sent another rush of heat through him, and he felt like he was about to explode — both from embarrassment and pride.

“that’s me,” toji muttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. gojo was right beside him, clapping exaggeratedly with a teasing grin. “you’re gonna have to give her a proper compliment after this, you know?”

“yeah, yeah,” toji grumbled, still flustered as he tried to focus on your words instead of his growing embarrassment.

when you finished your speech, the crowd cheered, and you stepped down, a satisfied smile on your face. 

you caught toji’s eye, and for a moment, the world faded away. he could see the joy radiating from you, and all his earlier doubts slipped away.

“toji!” you called out, your eyes sparkling. “what did you think?”

“you were amazing,” he said, finally finding the courage to step forward. “really. you owned that stage.”

“thank you,” you replied, your cheeks slightly flushed. “i was nervous, but it felt good to share this moment with everyone.”

as you spoke, toji’s heart raced. he leaned in closer, his voice lowering as he added, “and you looked absolutely stunning, too.”

“oh? just stunning?” you teased, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

“okay, maybe breathtaking,” he admitted, a genuine smile creeping onto his face. 

“and just so you know, i had a minor… situation back there, thanks to how beautiful you looked. so, you know, just keep that in mind.”

your laughter rang out, the sound warm and inviting, making toji forget all about the earlier embarrassment. he realized that whatever the two of you had going on was something he wanted to cherish, something worth pursuing.

and as the night continued, surrounded by the buzz of celebration, toji felt a sense of hope blooming in his chest — this was just the beginning.

as the excitement of the launch continued to swirl around you, suguru approached, a wide smile lighting up his face. 

“there you are! i was beginning to think i’d have to drag you out from behind that mic,” he teased, wrapping you in a warm hug.

“suguru! thanks for coming!” you beamed, feeling the familiar comfort of his presence. “it means a lot to me.”

“wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said, stepping back to take a look at you. “and wow, you look incredible. seriously, how do you pull off that look?”

gojo chimed in, practically bouncing on his heels. “it’s like she stepped out of a freaking fairytale, right? she’s basically a model now. i’m just a guy over here trying not to ruin the vibe.”

shoko smiled, her eyes soft as she observed the camaraderie. “you all did great tonight. it really was a wonderful launch.”

toji stood slightly apart from the group, hands shoved into his pockets, watching the dynamic unfold. he was proud of you and knew you deserved this moment, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of being on the outside. seeing you laugh and joke with suguru and gojo tugged at something deep inside him, a mix of admiration and protectiveness that made him feel a little more possessive than he expected.

“so, what’s next for you?” suguru asked, leaning in closer, his tone genuine. “another book, or are you taking a break?”

“a bit of both, actually,” you replied, glancing at toji. “i want to explore some new ideas, maybe branch out a little.”

just then, a lecherous-looking man stepped into the conversation, an air of arrogance radiating off him. 

“well, if it isn’t the famed author herself,” he sneered, a condescending smirk plastered on his face. “i have to say, it’s impressive how you’ve managed to carve out such a niche for yourself.” “free-use woman, is that what they call it? quite the career choice, huh?”

the moment the words left his mouth, the atmosphere shifted. toji's heart raced, a cold wave of irritation washing over him. he could feel his jaw clenching as he shifted his weight, bracing himself for whatever would come next. 

the man had no idea what he was stepping into.

gojo’s expression darkened, his casual demeanor evaporating. “who the hell do you think you are, talking to her like that?” he snapped, stepping in front of you protectively. “you’re clearly out of your depth.”

shoko frowned, her eyes narrowing at the man. “that’s incredibly disrespectful. you should apologize right now.”

suguru, leaning closer to you, was already assessing the situation, his gaze piercing. “it’s brave of you to come here and talk to her, but if you think you can just waltz in and make those kinds of comments, you’re sorely mistaken.”

toji felt a surge of possessiveness overtake him, and he stepped forward, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “listen, buddy, you don’t get to come here and treat her like she’s some sort of object. she’s worked hard for everything she has, and you’re just jealous that you’ll never get anywhere close to her level.”

the man scoffed, clearly unfazed, but the looks on the faces of gojo, shoko, and suguru sent a wave of intimidation over him. “oh, what? you’re one of her little fanboys now?” he mocked, trying to play off the tension.

“she’s not just some girl for your amusement,” toji replied, his voice low but full of intensity. “if you can’t see that, then you don’t deserve to be in the same room as her.”

you were taken aback, a mix of shock and warmth flooding your chest at toji’s fierce defense. it was a side of him you hadn’t seen in this context, and it made your heart race. you quickly interjected, trying to defuse the situation. 

“it’s okay, really. i don’t mind —”

“no,” suguru cut you off gently but firmly, glancing back at you with concern. “you shouldn’t have to put up with that kind of trash talk. you’re better than that, and we’re here for you.”

“yeah,” gojo added, his expression serious. “this guy doesn’t know who he’s messing with. just because you think you can get away with it doesn’t mean you should.” he turned to the man, a fire burning in his blue eyes. 

“i’d suggest you leave before things get ugly.”

the man’s bravado faltered, and he hesitated, clearly weighing his options. 

“whatever, man,” he spat, finally backing away, a look of disdain on his face. “i didn’t want to talk to you losers anyway.”

as he walked off, toji felt a wave of relief wash over him, but it was mingled with something else — something like pride for you and his friends, who had stood up for what was right. 

he turned to you, catching your eye. “you alright?”

you nodded, still processing what just happened. “yeah, thanks. i didn’t think he’d go that far.”

“he’s a fucking idiot,” toji replied, shaking his head. “you deserve better than that.”

“you all really stood up for me,” you said softly, feeling gratitude swell in your chest.

“of course we did,” shoko replied, her expression warm. “we’re your friends, and we’ll always have your back.”

toji stepped a bit closer, and for a moment, the noise of the event faded into the background. “just remember that,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “you’re not alone in this.”

and as the night continued, surrounded by friends who cared deeply for you, toji felt a sense of belonging that he hadn’t anticipated, realizing just how much he wanted to protect that warmth — protect you.

the event wrapped up smoothly, but leave it to gojo to suggest a “girls day out” to celebrate – the “girls” in question, of course, were all of you.

“come on!” gojo insisted, practically bouncing as you all filed out of the venue. “a little lunch at this fancy new place! i already reserved us a table. trust me, you’ll love it.” he flashed that signature grin, one that sparkled with both charm and mischief.

“i thought you called this a girl’s day out?” toji raised an eyebrow, looking mildly exasperated. “you’re delusional if you think i’m your girl, gojo.”

gojo only smirked, looping his arm through toji’s despite his attempts to shake him off. 

“toji, honey, everyone’s my girl,” he teased. “besides, i knew you’d say yes deep down.”

“keep telling yourself that,” toji muttered, though a small smirk betrayed his amusement.

suguru shook his head, amused, as he watched their dynamic. “sometimes i think we enable him too much.”

“you definitely do,” shoko chimed in, already lighting a cigarette as you walked along. “but at least lunch on gojo’s tab makes it worth it.”

soon enough, the five of you strolled into the swanky restaurant, where the hostess greeted gojo with a wide smile. “right this way, mr. gojo,” she said, leading you all to a secluded table with an impressive view.

gojo waited until you all took your seats before he threw himself down, stretching out like he owned the place. “order whatever you want, my treat!” he announced, flashing a grin at the menu. “the foie gras here is to die for.”

“you’re ordering foie gras?” you raised an eyebrow, half-amused and half-horrified.

gojo shrugged, feigning innocence. “what? it’s delicious.” he turned to toji. “you’re in, right?”

toji gave him a dry look. “i don’t even know what that is, gojo.”

suguru snorted into his drink. “you’re so cultured, toji.”

toji rolled his eyes, shoving a breadstick into his mouth with exaggerated indifference. “as long as it’s not something gojo personally cooked, i’ll eat it.”

gojo gasped dramatically, clutching his heart. “you wound me! i make a mean ramen!”

shoko raised an eyebrow at him. “instant ramen doesn’t count, gojo.”

as you skimmed the menu, suguru leaned over to point out some of the more “normal” dishes. 

“i’d stick to these if i were you,” he chuckled. “unless you’re ready for gojo’s idea of exotic.”

“good call,” you replied, grinning. “i’m not trying to eat anything that still has a face.”

just then, gojo noticed a seafood platter being served at a nearby table, and his eyes lit up. “oh, look at that! who’s in for oysters? fresh from the coast, or so they say.”

toji grimaced, pushing the menu away. “you’re kidding, right? i don’t eat anything slimy.”

gojo wagged his finger at him, smirking. “toji, you’ll never know the finer things in life with an attitude like that.”

“if the finer things in life involve slimy food, count me out,” toji retorted, crossing his arms.

you couldn’t help but laugh, catching suguru’s eye. he shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. 

“some things never change, huh?”

“yeah, especially gojo’s tastes,” shoko muttered, taking a sip of her drink.

as the food finally arrived, the table was soon filled with laughter and stories, everyone swapping tales about work, life, and everything in between. gojo, unsurprisingly, dominated the conversation, though he was more than happy to playfully drag each of you into his stories.

“and then, get this,” gojo laughed, his shoulders shaking. “i convinced the poor guy i was a psychic! he walked around with a ‘cursed’ amulet for a week before he realized i was just messing with him.”

“i don’t understand how anyone falls for your crap,” toji said, shaking his head, though even he was hiding a smile.

“it’s a gift,” gojo replied smugly, before winking at you. “isn’t that right?”

“oh, definitely,” you replied dryly. “a gift and a curse.”

“mostly a curse,” shoko agreed, patting gojo’s shoulder.

after a few rounds of drinks, everyone had relaxed into the easy camaraderie, passing dishes and laughing as gojo continued his dramatic retellings, complete with hand gestures and questionable impressions.

“so, toji,” gojo leaned over with a sly grin, “how’s… life?”

toji eyed him, wary. “life’s fine, gojo. what are you getting at?”

“nothing!” gojo held up his hands innocently. “just curious about your… extracurriculars.”

toji rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as shoko smirked, clearly entertained by toji’s suffering.

suguru leaned in, murmuring to you, “you think he’ll make it through the whole lunch without snapping?”

you laughed softly. “he’s holding up pretty well, all things considered.”

as dessert rolled around, gojo ordered a massive platter of sweets “for the table,” though everyone knew he’d end up eating half of it himself.

“i swear, if you finish all those eclairs before i even get one…” toji warned, eyeing gojo.

gojo winked, already reaching for a plate. “too slow, toji! if you want something, you’ve got to seize it.”

“yeah? you wanna see me seize it?” toji reached over, snatching an éclair from gojo’s hand in one swift move.

the entire table burst out laughing, gojo’s indignant look only adding to the humor. it was one of those rare moments where everything felt right, like you were all in sync, just enjoying each other’s company.

as you leaned back in your chair, watching everyone banter, you felt a warmth settle in your chest. these were the kinds of moments you’d remember – the laughter, the shared jokes, the way each person’s personality filled the room in a way only they could.

it was a good day. 

and somehow, you had gojo’s “girls day out” to thank for it.

“suguru! where are you going?” gojo called, laughing.

suguru gave a halfhearted smile. “just… need to take this.”

you watched him go, a flicker of concern starting to build when minutes passed with no sign of his return. eventually, you excused yourself, hoping everything was alright.

turning the corner, you found him leaning against the wall, head down, shoulders tense and shaking slightly. the quiet sound of his breath catching, his barely-contained sobs – it was like a punch to the chest. 

suguru geto never cried.

“suguru?” you whispered, not wanting to startle him.

he looked up, his face streaked with tears, a raw, vulnerable expression you’d never seen. he quickly tried to brush it off, rubbing his eyes. “you shouldn’t… see me like this,” he muttered.

your heart clenched as you stepped closer. “hey, i’m your friend. you don’t have to hide from me.”

he looked away, swallowing hard, his voice strained. “it’s… her. she made her choice.” he took a ragged breath. “she doesn’t love me. she’s with someone else now.”

you felt your stomach twist at the pain in his voice, at the way his composure was unraveling before you. you reached out instinctively, placing a hand on his shoulder. “suguru, i’m so sorry. i know how much she meant to you.”

he let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. 

“i thought we had something real, you know? i thought… i thought she’d see me the same way.”

“you loved her,” you murmured, feeling his anguish like a weight pressing on your chest. “you gave her everything. sometimes people… they just don’t see what’s right in front of them.”

“maybe it’s me,” he choked, clenching his fists. “maybe i just wasn’t enough.”

you took his hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “don’t say that. you’re more than enough. she just… didn’t see it. it doesn’t mean you aren’t worth it.”

his face crumpled, and for a moment, he was silent, holding onto you like you were an anchor keeping him from sinking. 

“i feel so… empty,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper.

“let it out, suguru,” you said gently, wrapping your arms around him. “you don’t have to carry this alone.”

he leaned into your embrace, taking deep, shuddering breaths as he tried to regain control. you rubbed soothing circles on his back, feeling each tremble, each heartbeat, sharing in the quiet vulnerability of the moment.

“i don’t know what i’d do without you right now,” he said, his voice barely audible.

“you don’t have to,” you replied softly. “i’m here. you’ll be okay, suguru. even if it takes time.”

as you comforted him, you didn’t notice that toji had also come looking for you. he’d been watching the hallway, glancing at his watch, wondering what was taking you so long. 

a knot of worry twisted in his stomach, his mind flashing back to the earlier incident – that sleazy man at the event who had tried to approach you.

what if something happened again?

when he turned the corner, the sight he found stopped him cold. 

you, hugging suguru, holding him so tightly, your hand stroking his hair as he buried his face into your shoulder.

a strange, hot flare of jealousy surged up in his chest. 

his jaw clenched as he stared at you, his fingers twitching with the urge to do… something. here was suguru, wrapped up in your arms, his pain visible and raw – but still.

 toji couldn’t help the spike of resentment. why did it have to be suguru you were comforting?

why couldn’t you hold onto him like that?

his fingers tightened around the edge of his jacket, his thoughts spiraling. he knew he had no right to feel this way, knew suguru was hurting – but the sight of you so intimately close, your gentle words he couldn’t quite hear, only made his jealousy deepen.

his eyes narrowed as he kept watching, trying to ignore the twinge of vulnerability he hadn’t expected. why did he care so much? he gritted his teeth. 

but when you finally looked up, catching sight of him, his expression was unreadable, masked beneath a carefully controlled look. there was a subtle stiffness to the way he held himself, and his gaze flickered briefly to suguru before settling back on you.

“toji…” you said softly, surprised to see him there.

he crossed his arms, giving a slight nod in suguru’s direction. “everything alright?”

“yeah,” you replied, glancing at suguru, who gave a faint nod, still wiping at his eyes. “just… a hard day.”

toji’s eyes softened slightly as he looked at you, though his expression remained guarded. “you’re a good friend,” he murmured, barely audible, though there was a hint of something deeper behind his words.

you offered him a small smile, sensing the underlying tension. “just doing what anyone would.”

toji’s gaze lingered on you a little longer, his jealousy ebbing slightly, though a part of him still ached to be the one you held so tightly, the one you’d stayed for so long just to comfort. 

but he pushed the feeling down, knowing that tonight, suguru needed you more.

suguru excused himself to rejoin the table, likely gravitating toward satoru, who knew more about his heartbreak than anyone else there. that left just you and toji standing in your little corner, tucked away from the bustling restaurant.

he was looking at you with that smirk of his, the kind that had you already feeling flustered, but determined not to give him the satisfaction. he took a casual step forward, slipping his hands into his pockets, and leaned in close, voice low and almost playful.

“so… what’re you doing over here, all alone with me?” he drawled, eyes trailing slowly from your eyes down to your lips.

before he could say anything else, you raised an eyebrow, folding your arms. 

“you mean, other than watching you try to pretend you weren’t sporting a hard-on for half the event?”

the teasing grin on your lips was unmistakable, and his reaction was instant. toji’s expression flickered, a hint of surprise in his eyes, followed by an intense gleam as he chuckled under his breath. “oh, so you noticed that, huh?”

“noticed? please,” you scoffed, keeping up your confident front even as he closed the space between you with slow, measured steps. “how could i not? it was right there.”

“guess you were too busy looking at me to focus on anything else,” he replied smoothly, his voice dropping a little lower. he leaned in, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours, breath warm against your skin. “maybe i should’ve been paying more attention to you instead.”

your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t let it show. 

“well, now you know better,” you murmured back, voice challenging. “maybe you should’ve acted on it then, instead of waiting until now.”

he raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “oh, is that a challenge?”

“only if you can handle it,” you shot back, the thrill of the back-and-forth sparking something between you two.

his eyes darkened, and before you knew it, he had one hand on your waist, pulling you flush against him, his other hand braced against the wall by your head. 

“you think i can’t handle a little challenge from you?” he murmured, his lips so close they nearly brushed yours.

you swallowed, but kept your cool. “if you could, you wouldn’t be hesitating.”

“trust me, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice low and dangerously smooth, “when i’m done with you, you won’t be the one running your mouth.”

before you could come up with a retort, his lips were on yours, firm and demanding, as if he’d been waiting all night to finally do this. you couldn’t hold back a soft gasp as he kissed you deeper, his hand sliding up to cradle your face while his other gripped your waist tightly, pressing you up against the wall.

your hands instinctively found their way to his shoulders, clutching him as he took full control of the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours with a fierceness that left your head spinning. he groaned softly as he pressed his body closer, one hand sliding up the side of your thigh, fingers grazing over the soft fabric of your dress.

“you like getting me all worked up, don’t you?” he murmured against your lips, his voice laced with that smug edge that made you shiver. “can’t get enough of teasing me, huh?”

“maybe i do,” you shot back, though your voice wavered slightly as he bit down on your lower lip, sending a spark through you. “but it’s not my fault you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”

he chuckled darkly, his hands sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing just beneath your ribs as he pressed his hips against yours. 

“yeah? what’re you gonna do about it?” he murmured, leaning in to brush his lips over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

“you really think you’re in control here?” you asked, voice challenging even as he continued to press you into the wall. “because from where i’m standing, it looks like you’re the one who can’t resist me.”

“careful what you say,” he warned, his tone thick with restrained desire. “i’m this close to dragging you out of here and making you eat those words.”

your heart raced, and even though you were half-tempted to keep pushing him, you couldn’t deny the thrill of having him this close, his hands roaming over you, his lips brushing down your neck. you let out a breathless laugh, threading your fingers through his hair as you tugged him closer. 

“then maybe you should quit talking and show me what you’ve got.”

he didn’t need any further invitation. his grip tightened on you, his mouth covering yours in a heated, almost punishing kiss that left you breathless. his hands roamed over your body with a hunger that was practically palpable, every touch igniting a new spark. 

he was practically devouring you, his breath coming faster as he pressed you harder against the wall, his fingers digging into your waist as he kissed you deeply, thoroughly, like he wanted to leave his mark.

“god,” he murmured, voice husky, “you’re driving me insane.” he leaned back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze intense. “you really wanna keep pushing me, huh?”

you smirked, your own voice barely above a whisper. “maybe i just like seeing what you’ll do about it.”

on the outside, you were holding your ground. confident smirks, playful retorts, the whole act. but on the inside? 

you were freaking the fuck out. 

here you were, basically mimicking every female lead you’d ever written, pulling from their limitless reserve of sass and self-assuredness to somehow keep pace with toji's relentless flirting. each comeback, each smirk — it was like a mental pep talk to channel all those characters who’d never break a sweat in this situation.

but… oh god. what if things actually got hot and heavy? 

you were standing there, going toe-to-toe with toji of all people, and it hit you — you were completely out of your depth here. this was not your usual flirting, the teasing banter you’d half-heartedly perfected through fictional dialogue. 

this was real.

and suddenly the thought crept in like an alarm bell: you might actually have to… gn?

your eyes widened a fraction as you tried to keep your cool. 

gn. 

get naked, not even good night — although, maybe a good night after the get naked part, if you even made it that far without spontaneously combusting. 

your mind raced, frantically scrolling through every bedroom scene you’d ever written, but realizing none of them really prepared you for this. 

oh my god, you panicked inwardly, just because i write smut doesn’t mean i know what to do when i’m the one gripping the sheets!

“what, cat got your tongue?” toji’s voice interrupted your internal spiral, his smirk widening as he traced a thumb across your cheek, dipping dangerously close to your lips. “not so confident now, are ya?”

you forced a grin, cursing the tremble in your fingers as they clutched at his shirt. 

“oh, please, like i’m nervous,” you shot back, mentally crossing every finger and toe that your voice didn’t waver. 

inside, though, you were a swirling mess, praying he didn’t catch the slightest tremor. 

fake it till you make it, right? 

only problem was, the longer he looked at you, the more he seemed to see right through you.

his eyes narrowed just a little, his smirk shifting into something… softer, a touch more considerate. you wanted to think he’d be gracious, that he’d at least slow down, but no, there was something else in his gaze. maybe a flicker of understanding? 

no, that was too generous.

he was toji.

and as if he could sense your hesitation, he leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear. 

“relax, princess,” he whispered, his tone softer, maybe even gentle. “we can go as slow as you want. besides…” his lips quirked up into a teasing grin. 

“don’t think you’re getting out of this without admitting how much you’re enjoying it.”

relax? yeah, right. 

your heart was doing backflips, your mind racing through every possible move you’d probably never have the courage to pull off. he had you right where he wanted you, and you couldn’t stop the blush rising to your cheeks. 

oh god, you thought desperately, please don’t ask me to make the next move.

just as you were bracing yourself to somehow manage to keep up this charade of confidence, toji’s phone vibrated between you, cutting the tension with a blaring ringtone. and of all people, it had to be gojo. you glimpsed his name flashing on the screen right as toji picked up, rolling his eyes before pressing the phone to his ear.

“what, satoru?” toji sighed, clearly irritated at the interruption.

“toji! man, hurry up and get back here!” gojo’s voice screeched through the phone, loud enough for you to hear the dramatic urgency. “we’ve got a very, very depressed mr. geto here who’s having the existential crisis of the century. we need all hands on deck, and yes, that means you too. and preferably sober, mind you. no drinks this time! none.” 

gojo's voice dropped, muttering something about “banging y/n later if you have to,” but you both caught it.

toji gave you a side-eye smirk, shaking his head at gojo’s predictability, before letting out a sigh. 

“fine. but you owe me one, big time.” and with that, he ended the call, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

before you could even tease him about the abrupt change of plans, he leaned in and gave you a sharp smack! on the ass, grinning at the way you jumped. 

“guess we’ll have to put this on hold, princess. duty calls.” with a wink, he took your hand, leading you back toward the table.

it was gonna be a long night.

back at the table, the scene was…well, not what you’d expected. 

suguru looked rough. 

he sat slumped in his chair, swirling a glass of water (gojo had made sure of it) with a far-off stare that looked like he was seeing into another dimension. gojo and shoko were positioned on either side of him, each with their own ineffective tactics.

“c’mon, sugu, it’s not the end of the world,” gojo said, nudging him with a grin that looked a bit too forced. “i mean, i never liked her anyway. you deserve way better than —”

“she was amazing,” suguru cut him off, his voice flat but tinged with emotion. “you wouldn’t understand, satoru.”

shoko sighed, patting his shoulder. “she wasn’t that amazing. she had weird fashion taste.”

“and didn’t she correct you on every little thing? constantly?” gojo added, crossing his arms with a small smirk.

suguru gave them both a look, unamused. “i liked her fashion sense. and i didn’t mind the corrections.”

toji leaned back in his seat, giving you a subtle eye roll. 

this was what you’d come back for. 

he sighed, then leaned forward, slapping a hand on suguru’s shoulder. “you know, sulking isn’t gonna help anything. maybe it’s time to get back out there, stop dwelling on someone who clearly didn’t value you.”

suguru let out a tired sigh, and gojo jumped in, eyes lighting up. “exactly! there are plenty of people who’d be thrilled to date the great suguru geto!” he gestured around the room as if a fan club might spontaneously form right then and there. 

“you’re smart, you’re talented —”

“and single,” shoko added dryly, sipping her drink with a shrug.

suguru slumped lower, clearly unconvinced. “i don’t want to be single,” he muttered. “i wanted her.”

you winced at the defeated tone in his voice, exchanging a helpless look with toji, who looked equally unsure what else they could say to help. 

gojo, though, was not one to give up. he clapped his hands, as if a brilliant idea had just struck him.

“okay! new plan,” he declared, leaning in with an almost manic enthusiasm. “you’re going to go out with us this weekend. all of us. no work, no responsibilities — just a wild time. we’ll find you a nice rebound —”

suguru glared. “no, thanks.”

shoko groaned, propping her chin on her hand. “well, i’m out of ideas. anyone else?”

you took a deep breath, deciding to give it one last shot. 

“maybe…you don’t have to forget her completely, but maybe you can focus on what made you happy outside of her. like, remember what you love doing?”

suguru looked at you, as if considering the thought, but then slumped back. “it’s not the same,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “it’s just…not the same.”

gojo groaned dramatically, throwing his head back. “i swear, you’re worse than me on my worst breakup day. someone call for reinforcements because i think we’re gonna need a miracle worker for this one.”

the table fell quiet, everyone glancing at suguru, who looked as defeated as ever, and it hit you that maybe tonight, there really wasn’t a solution.

one month later, the dreaded wedding invitation arrived, dropped unceremoniously on suguru’s desk. it was embossed in gold, the bride and groom’s names announced in elegant script, and just looking at it made his chest tighten. this was her wedding — the woman he’d once thought he’d spend his life with, now celebrating a future with someone else.

gojo’s reaction was immediate, bursting out in an exaggerated laugh when he saw the invite on suguru’s desk. 

“are you kidding me? she’s really inviting you? that’s low, even for her. come on, suguru, you’re not actually thinking about going, are you?”

suguru just gave a small smile, almost serene in the face of it all. “actually, i think i might.”

gojo gaped. “what?! dude, they’re practically rubbing it in your face! it’s like sending a ‘ha-ha, we’re in love, and you’re not’ postcard.” 

he crossed his arms, scowling at the offending piece of cardstock. “this is the most tasteless thing i’ve ever seen.”

shoko, who was nearby, raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-curious. “maybe she didn’t mean it that way, satoru. maybe it’s her way of being considerate, keeping suguru involved as a friend.”

gojo scoffed, rolling his eyes. “oh please, you don’t invite your ex to your wedding, especially if you broke his heart. she should be thrilled he’s not cursing her name in three different languages.”

but suguru only shook his head, calm as ever. “it’s not like that, satoru. we’ve both moved on, in our own ways. i don’t hold it against her. she chose what makes her happy, and if that’s someone else…well, then i wish her the best.” he shrugged lightly. “i don’t see any point in being bitter about it.”

gojo stared at him, as if seeing an entirely different person. “you’re joking, right? this is not you. the real suguru would’ve burned that thing or at least made a snarky comment about her dress being too ‘last season.’”

suguru laughed, an easy, relaxed sound that caught them all by surprise. “that’s exactly it, satoru. i don’t want to be that guy anymore. i’ve spent enough time with those feelings. they’re…exhausting. if going to this wedding gives me closure, then why not?”

gojo looked like he was about to combust. “closure? closure is just a fancy word for ‘let me put myself through hell for no reason.’ honestly, suguru, you’re giving her too much credit. she’s the one who ditched you, remember?”

suguru tilted his head, offering gojo a gentle but pointed look. “maybe it’s not about her anymore. maybe this is just about me.” his voice was calm, but there was a certain finality in it, as if he’d already come to terms with everything.

gojo, meanwhile, huffed and crossed his arms, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “well, i think it’s ridiculous. she doesn’t deserve any more of your attention.”

suguru sighed, but there was a faint smile on his lips, as if gojo’s dramatics were somehow endearing. 

“satoru, not everything is a personal insult. people make choices. sometimes they’re not the ones we wanted, but that doesn’t make them wrong.”

gojo let out a long, exaggerated groan. “you’re way too good for this world, suguru. like, way too mature. no one deserves you. i’d be sending her a glitter bomb or something, just for the hell of it.”

shoko chuckled, patting gojo on the back. “maybe you should take a lesson from suguru. not everyone has to nurse their ego through every breakup.”

gojo snorted, still glaring at the invitation like it had personally offended him. “fine, go ahead and be the bigger person, suguru. but if you even think about bringing me as your plus-one, i’m causing a scene.” 

he folded his arms defiantly. “i’m talking upstaging the bride type of scene.”

suguru’s smile widened, genuine and peaceful. “noted, satoru. but i think i’ll be alright.”

and in that moment, watching suguru handle what should have been a painful reminder with quiet dignity, even gojo’s bluster faded just a bit. sure, he might think suguru was handling it all wrong, but deep down, he couldn’t help but admire his friend’s strength.

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[syluslnd]

Hellow! just wanted to say I love the way you write Sylus ><

Spoiler warning kinda?? For those who didn't read his story chapter 1 story 3.

Can I request an imagine of how y/n would apologize to Sylus for shooting him upon the first meeting?

In a pre-relationship, y/n blushes at anything and is too embarrassed, shy and just feels really bad for shooting him after she develops feelings for him! So she looks for ways to apologize to Sylus before confessing her feelings (maybe through making cookies?). However, her actions made Sylus's suspicions rise.

Feel free to change anything the rest is up to you!

Thank you and I love your writings :(´◦ω◦｀):

trying to apologize to sylus

The kitchen was warm, the smell of cookies filling the air as you nervously wiped your hands on your apron. This whole plan had seemed like a good idea at the time—a small way to make up for what had happened.

Your guilt had been eating at you ever since you’d shot Sylus. It wasn’t an accident and though it was necessary at the time, the memory still made your stomach twist.

Sylus, however, hadn’t seemed bothered by it. He shrugged it off, as if getting shot was just another day at the office. That casual dismissal only made you feel worse.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of footsteps. Sylus stepped into the room, his eyes scanning the counter full of freshly baked cookies before settling on you. His brow furrowed slightly and you could already sense the suspicion radiating from him.

“What’s all this sweetie?” he asked bluntly, folding his arms across his chest. He didn’t move any closer, just stood there, assessing the scene like he was trying to piece together some hidden agenda.

You tried for a smile, but it came out nervous, shaky. “I, um, made cookies. For you.”

“For me” His tone was flat and you could tell he wasn’t buying it. He narrowed his eyes, watching you with that intense gaze of his. “Alright, sweetie, what’s going on?”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his stare making your heart race. “Nothing’s going on! I just thought… maybe you’d like some cookies.”

Sylus raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving your face. “Cookies” he repeated, his voice skeptical. “You don’t bake and you definitely don’t just hand out treats for no reason. So, I’ll ask again—what are you up to?”

Your face heated up, and you fiddled with the edge of your apron, avoiding his gaze. “I—I’m not up to anything. I just wanted to do something nice.”

Sylus didn’t move, didn’t blink. “Uh-huh and this sudden burst of kindness wouldn’t have anything to do with, say, you shooting me, would it?”

Your stomach flipped and the guilt you’d been trying to bury bubbled to the surface. “W-well… maybe” you mumbled, staring down at your feet.

There was a long pause, the room thick with tension as Sylus just looked at you, his face a mask of confusion. “Wait. Are you saying you’re apologizing? For that?”

You winced at how bluntly he put it, and your hands tightened into nervous fists. “I just… I felt bad, okay? I didn’t mean for it to happen that way”

“You shot me, kitten” he interrupted, his voice sharp with disbelief. “You shot me on purpose.”

You bit your lip, feeling your face flush with embarrassment. “I know. But I didn’t want to! I didn’t know what else to do at the time, and… I’ve felt bad ever since.”

Sylus blinked at you, clearly still processing your explanation. Then, to your surprise, he let out a short, incredulous laugh, shaking his head as if you were the most amusing thing he’d ever encountered. “You’ve been baking cookies to apologize for shooting me? That’s what this is about?”

Your eyes shot up to meet his and you felt a fresh wave of embarrassment wash over you. “Well, when you say it like that…”

“I’m saying it exactly how it is” he said, still laughing softly. “Sweetie, you’re unbelievable.”

You frowned, crossing your arms defensively. “I mean, it’s not funny! I’ve been feeling guilty this whole time and you just—”

“Oh, no, no” Sylus cut you off, stepping closer and cupping your chin in his hand, forcing you to look up at him. His eyes gleamed with amusement, a smirk playing on his lips. “It’s definitely funny. You shot me in my face and you’ve been walking around like you killed me when I didn’t even think twice about it.”

You opened your mouth to argue but the words died on your tongue. He didn’t even think about it? That was somehow even more humiliating.

He tilted his head, watching your reaction closely. “Kitten, I wasn’t exactly holding a grudge. You did what you had to. But I am curious…” He leaned in slightly, his voice lowering, “If you’ve been feeling this bad about it, maybe it’s not just the shooting you’re sorry about, huh?”

Your heart stuttered in your chest. “W-what do you mean?”

His smirk widened, and his thumb brushed gently along your jawline. “Come on, sweetie. You’ve been jumpy around me ever since. I’m starting to think maybe you’re hiding something else. Something more… personal.”

Your face burned as you realized what he was implying. “I… I don’t…”

“Don’t what?” he teased, his voice a low purr as he edged even closer. “Don’t have feelings for me? Or don’t want to admit it?”

You stammered, every nerve in your body screaming at you to either run or somehow disappear on the spot. “I—I wasn’t going to say anything” you managed to whisper, your hands trembling slightly. “It’s not… I didn’t think you’d… feel the same.”

Sylus blinked, his smirk softening just a touch, though the amusement in his eyes remained. “Sweetie, you really are something.”

You braced yourself for whatever teasing comment would come next but instead, his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you in gently. His lips brushed yours in a kiss that was surprisingly soft, a stark contrast to the bluntness of his words.

When he pulled back, he grinned down at you, his voice low and teasing. “If I didn’t feel the same, I wouldn’t be here, kitten.”

Your breath hitched and you could only stare up at him, completely flustered.

“Now” he said, his hand slipping from your neck to grab one of the cookies. He took a bite, clearly savoring it before flashing you a playful look. “If all your apologies taste this good, maybe I should get shot more often.”

You rolled your eyes but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

He winked. “But you love me anyway. Right, sweetie?”

Your face flushed again, but this time you didn’t bother denying it. You just let the warmth of his teasing settle in your chest, knowing now that maybe, just maybe, he was right.

[koqabear]

(Un)Professional

♫: te pongo mal, Kali Uchis

“When Soobin struck up the proposition to be friends with benefits, he did it under the guise of remaining single and focusing on his music, adamant on keeping things “professional”— god forbid anyone else tries to get with you though, because maybe he didn’t really mean it when he told you no strings attached.”

Soobin x fem!reader

Genre: fwb to ???, pwp, kinda angst, smut, rockstar!au

Word count: 4.5K

warnings: soobin is actually kinda mean and toxic but they have their little redemption arc idk TT… barely edited sorry

smut warnings: mean/hard dom! soobin, sub!mc, mc is kinda bratty, so also brat tamer soobin hehe, rough sex, unprotected sex, pet names, (pretty, baby, etc.) possessiveness, jealousy, degrading, thigh riding, dry humping, breast play, edging, marking, biting, oral (f. rec.), fingering, dacryphilia, hair pulling, dumbification, creampie (lmk if i should add anything!)

Notes: this is a mini series that was made simply because i am an indecisive loser. don’t ask why i was listening to reggaeton for a rockstar au, it just happened 😭 also i wrote all these parts after midnight bc that’s the only time i was able to write i guess— in other words… don’t expect too much from this. 

Soobin doesn’t do relationships. 

There’s no room for something as fragile as that in his life, at least not when he’s traveling to a new state every day for his tours— the last thing Soobin would ever do is fuck up what he already has just for something as fickle as love. 

However, he is a man with needs— needs that are gladly fulfilled by you, his pretty best friend that always travels with them. 

He’s known you long enough to have struck up this arrangement confidently; knowing there would be no strings attached, not able to form any feelings for someone he’s been content being just friends with for— well, forever. 

So this— his pounding heart, his brows that furrow together with frustration, his hands that grip his microphone a little tighter— is definitely new. 

There is no logical reason as to why he should be feeling like this; there’s no logical explanation as to why it’s been such an eyesore to watch Yeonjun interact with you the whole night, watching the way the man not so subtly sends winks and coy smiles in your direction, Soobin’s lips being bitten at as he watches the way you merely smile cutely in response. 

You don’t even act this way with him; every time you’ve come to their shows, you’ve always made it a point to act normal whenever Soobin comes around— just enough excitement to make you seem like a fan, but not enough to make it seem like you know him— you’ve learned this the hard way.

“Tone it down a bit next time, yeah?” Soobin told you once, as you laid in his hotel bed and surfed through the tv channels with droopy eyes, “If we’re gonna keep doing this, we should be professional about it.”

His words garnered a massive roll of your eyes— what the fuck did he even mean by that? It’s a concert, of course you had to seem excited— but it seems as though you took his comment to heart, watching the way your excitement dies down the moment Soobin approaches your side. 

No one’s watching you— no one cares about what faces you make or what you say when Soobin stands before you, but the thought of him telling you to keep it professional pisses you off so much that you decide to show him just how good of an actress you are; the difference of reactions is almost incredible, and you take in the way Soobin’s eyes narrow at the sight of you. 

There’s no reason he should get mad— after all, there’s nothing between you. 

Agreeing to this was a stupid idea. What kind of a self-destructive freak agrees to be friends with benefits with someone they had feelings for? A self-destructive freak like you apparently, because as you watch Soobin leave with one last glance at you, you can’t help but wish that he was just a bit mad. 

The two of you distract yourselves in your own ways; Soobin tries not to visit your section for the rest of the night, and you try to get the attention of the rest of the members in response— and the boys, surprised to see your excited attitude when they come around, are more than happy to oblige— and if the fans noticed that Soobin seemed to be in a bad mood for part of the show, well, that’s on him.

You feel a bit more tired than usual by the time the concert ends— you’re not sure why, but you find yourself trudging backstage because of that; maybe you should just go to the hotel instead of congratulating the boys for their show like you usually do. 

“Oh, hey ___!” Yeonjun spots you before you can turn on your heels and exit; you’re immediately putting on a bright smile as the said man throws an arm around you, still in his encore outfit as he drags you along the halls and undoubtedly to where the rest of the members are, “What’d you think of the concert? It was good huh?”

“As always,” you smile, nudging Yeonjun softly as he clearly waits for you to continue, “You were great out there, your energy was insane.”

“Why thank you,” he purrs, leaning in and watching as you scoff at him playfully, “Watching you enjoy yourself practically gave me all the energy I needed.”

You don’t find yourself surprised by his comment; Yeonjun is always like this, his flirty and suggestive behavior nothing out of the ordinary as you simply scold him to get out of your face— you’re so caught up in bickering with the man that you don’t notice the heated stare of another, brows twitching at the way you laugh and play along with Yeonjun.

After a moment though, you feel it— your head is turning before you can really process it, and you’re meeting eyes with Soobin, who looks… well, pissed off.

Before you can get a good look at his face, he’s standing abruptly; taking long strides to where you are, your heart beginning to pound at the sight of him slowing to a stop next to you. 

“Meet me outside.” His voice is gruff and on edge as he whispers the words lowly to you, walking off without another word as you simply turn to watch— because of course he wouldn’t try to get Yeonjun off you or outwardly ask for your attention, choosing instead to relay you a quiet message before he’s off, regardless of the way everyone sends him a confused look as they watch him leave. 

“He looks mad,” Yeonjun hums, watching as you shrug his arm off gently, “Gonna try to talk to him?”

You sigh, hoping he doesn’t see the way your hands grab at the hem of your shirt anxiously. 

“Yeah,” you say, then you’re off, barely able to turn the corner once you’ve exited before you’re harshly pulled by none other than Soobin.

“Ow— what the fuck—!” Soobin’s hold on your wrist is bruising as he pushes you into the room next door, a changing room that’s not meant to hold multiple people as he simply locks the door behind him and pushes you against the wall; he doesn’t bother to turn on the lights as he approaches you— the light that comes through the frosted window on the door becomes the only thing that allows you to see Soobin’s frustrated expression. 

“Had fun flirting with the others?” He asks, his lips so close that you’re able to feel the puff of his breath as he huffs in frustration— the room is so small as you press yourself against the wall, feeling as though Soobin is filling your senses and making you dizzy, “Was that your little way to try and get my attention? Because it fucking worked, you poor little thing.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” you hiss, pressing a hand against Soobin’s chest as you feel him try to swoop in to kiss you, his hands already sliding under the hem of your shirt to trace shapes along your skin, “I’m friends with the others too, you know.”

“Have you always been this friendly with them? Hmm?” he asks, slotting a knee between your legs as you’re left to look up at him speechlessly, “What, gonna try to fuck them next?” 

“Dude, what’s your fucking problem!” you hiss, punctuating your words with a punch to his chest as you glare at him, not lost upon the fact that his thigh is pressed firmly against your cunt, your skirt fanning along his leg and hiding the way he’s flexing and pushing it against you.

“And if I wanted to, then what?” you ask, pretending as though you haven’t given in to the way Soobin’s hands are guiding your hips, making you grind against him as he feels the way you become wet by his actions, “What’ll you do, get jealous? Try to stop me? That wouldn’t be very professional of you— I might as well ask Yeonjun if he’s free after this.”

“Don’t get fucking smart with me,” He says, a hand coming up to grab your cheeks and tilt your head toward him, “I’m not letting any other bitch get with you, touching what’s mine.”

It’s just his arrogance and possessiveness talking again— at least that’s what you tell yourself, failing to hold back your weak whimper as you roll your hips against him, feeling him press against your hip and rut his hard cock against you slowly. 

“I’m not fucking yours,” you grit out, your words muffled as you try to speak through the hold that Soobin still has on you, “The only reason why we’re still friends is so you can get a good fuck, don’t lie—”

Soobin is kissing you before you can finish your sentence— if he wasn’t angry before, he definitely was now, his teeth clashing against yours as he kisses you roughly and without control, a mess of spit as he bites down on your lip, drinking in your pained moan before he’s slipping his tongue in to get a taste.

He’s noticed the way your hips have begun to move erratically; your hands are gripping tightly at his shirt, probably stretching it out as you continue to moan into his mouth, a hand guiding your movements as he flexes and presses his thigh firmer against you, his free hand letting go of your face to slip under your shirt and get access to your breasts as he begins to roll and pinch your nipples between his fingers. 

“Do you like it when I treat you like this?” he asks breathlessly, finally pulling away to watch the way a string of saliva continues to connect you— the sight is filthy and has your brows furrowing as you bite your swollen lips in hopes to muffle your sounds, “Like you’re nothing more than a fucktoy for me to use after my shows? A good little thing to take my stress out on?”

The pleasure is beginning to build up— there’s a tight knot in your stomach, making your brain go foggy as you feel the way your clit rubs against Soobin’s thigh every time you angle your hips a certain way, feeling as you soak your panties and his sweats the longer you rut against him.

Soobin simply watches you with a small smile; his eyes are lidded as he leans back, eyes glued to the way you roll your hips against him, weak whines becoming louder and more frantic as you begin to pull at his shirt with wide, teary eyes. 

But before you can finally cum, he pulls away. You’re whining softly at the loss, hitting his chest petulantly as you curse at him under your breath— before you can land another hit, he grabs your wrists, freezing you entirely as he sends you a sly look, leaning in so he can whisper in your ear.

“You’ll let me fuck you, right? You can always go to someone else if you need to cum,” he says, waiting for your response as he begins to kiss and suck at the spot just under your ear, knowing how sensitive you are as he feels the way you attempt to curl into yourself.

“Fuck you,” you whine out, attempting to shake his hold off you, only to fail— he simply laughs softly, sinking his teeth into the marked flesh as he listens to the yelp you let out. 

“I’m trying,” he huffs out, finally pulling away as he sends you a childish grin, “Now be good and turn around for me, okay sweet thing?”

The nickname catches you so off guard that you don’t protest the way Soobin turns you around without another word, your cheek pressed against the wall and your hands held behind your back as you continue to curse at him quietly— and judging by the way Soobin simply laughs softly, he’s definitely enjoying himself, shameless as ever as you listen to the sounds of shifting behind you.

You hope he doesn’t notice the way your breath hitches as you feel him push your panties aside, his tip brushing against your entrance— swiping at your leaking slit to gather your wetness, clearly teasing you as he takes in the way you try to push back against him, letting out a soft please as you feel his tip sink into you slightly, feeling the way you stretch around him before he’s pulling back out.

“Please? Why are you begging for me, baby?” he asks, slowly beginning to push in as he watches you rest your forehead against the wall, letting out a shaky sigh at the stretch, “I’m not here for you— you can go to another one of your toys if you’re looking for someone to worship you.”

You can’t bring yourself to say anything as you feel him bottom out inside you— no matter how many times you find yourself in this situation, you can never get used to it, the size of him enough to have your eyes rolling back as you feel his tip prod at your cervix, hips flush against your ass as he begins to grind softly into you. 

It’s not enough— not for you, and certainly not for him, though he refuses to give you the pleasure of fucking you stupid so soon as he watches instead the way you begin to squirm, wanting more as you hang your head and try to fuck yourself against him— all attempts are quickly stopped as Soobin uses a hand to still your movement, firm on your waist and forcing you back against the wall as the other continues to bind your hands, pressing your fists against the small of your back and watching with a sly smile as you begin to arch in response. 

“Why are you so quiet?” he asks softly, leaning in to trail kisses along your neck, continuing his slow and agonizing pace, “Usually you’re so loud I have to keep a hand on your mouth.”

You refuse to give into him— refuse to let him hear what he wants, ignoring the ache between your legs and the fire in your stomach that just begs to be put out— but the way you’re leaking around Soobin’s length and clenching around him is giving you away, and it’s enough to have you turning away from him in hopes that he won’t be able to read your expression. 

This proves to be harder than you expected; Soobin’s hand has let go of your waist in favor to play with your clit, nimble fingers circling and pinching the bud as he begins to thrust shallowly, listening to the way you try to swallow your sounds and keep your eyes shut at the feeling— it isn’t long before he’s building you up again, taking in the way your legs shake and you begin to push back against him subconsciously, giving away just how needy you are as your fists tighten. 

You’re close, so fucking close, maybe if you stay quiet Soobin won’t notice— but, for a man who insists you two aren’t anything, he’s eerily aware of the way your body gets when you’re about to cum— meaning, all his movement immediately stops the moment you’re about to tumble over the edge, bottoming out inside you and laughing mockingly as he listens to the broken sound you let out. 

“Fuck, I’m so tired from today’s show,” Soobin groans, resting his forehead on your shoulder, beginning his slow, shallow thrusts again after a moment, “You don’t mind if I take it slow tonight, do you?”

You say nothing— you have yet to say anything that would irritate or please Soobin, and that in itself is enough to egg him on— because even if you refuse to talk, the way your body trembles from his touch and you bite your lips to suppress sounds is enough to tell him all he needs to know. 

The way you clench around Soobin when he begins to play with your clit almost has him cumming— he has to concentrate on not doing so as he takes in the weak whine you let out, your previous orgasms being built up once more as you let out a shaky sigh, listening to the wet sounds that come from the way Soobin fucks you. 

You’re trying so hard to remain neutral as he winds you up— but god, he knows you like the back of his hand, his hips rutting and rolling into you as he does everything to make you go insane, already feeling your high creep up on your from how up-tight your body is. 

“Feels good?” He asks, using your hands as leverage as he pulls you back into him for a particularly harsh thrust— the suddenness of it has you moaning loudly, your lips immediately pressing together as you feel your face grow hot— Soobin’s cocky laugh is both annoying and hot and you hate yourself for feeling that way. 

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to say anything,” he grins, picking up his pace as he watches the way you begin to break, weak moans and whines leaving you from how harshly he thrusts his cock into you, “I’ll do all the work, just stand there and look pretty, okay?”

You can feel your high approaching— it’s intense and fast, and you’re barely able to process the way your mouth falls open as you begin to chase the feeling, ready to fall over the edge and cream all over Soobin’s cock when—-

Like an absolute jerk, he pulls out. 

“You know what?” he says, talking more to himself than anything as he turns you back around and tucks himself back in, your back colliding with the wall behind you as your breath hitches, watching as he falls to his knees and sends you an innocent look, “I haven’t tasted you in so long, baby— fuck, I can’t help myself, I’ll be quick.”

Soobin is never like this— you’ve only ever experienced quickies backstage, so to say that you’re surprised to see the man dragging things out here is an understatement, letting out a shaky sigh as he throws your leg over his shoulder and scoots closer to you, burying himself under your skirt without hesitation. 

You’re practically dripping on the floor— it’s even worse when his fingers begin to prod at your entrance, feeling the way your walls clench wildly at the feeling and your hips thrust toward the sensation; Soobin’s tongue licks at your clit teasingly, taking his time to trace circles around it as he finally sinks his fingers inside you, curling them and pressing against all your sensitive spots as he takes in the way you squirm above him. 

Soobin’s face is practically suffocated by your cunt— you’re not sure how long he does this for, but he proceeds to bring you close to orgasm only to pull away a few more times, listening to the way you begin to cry and plead a bit more with each one. 

At some point— your fifth ruined orgasm, you think you’ve lost count— you find yourself pulling at his hair and begging, the words stuttered out through hiccups as you feel hot tears stream down your cheeks, pleading Soobin to let you cum as you grind your pussy along his face, feeling his tongue dip to your entrance before he’s back to teasing your clit, laughing softly at the sound before he finally emerges from under your skirt— his face is shiny and flushed as he looks up at you, sending you a grin that only has you pouting even more. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, feigning concern as he begins to run his hands along your thighs, waiting patiently for you to respond as he begins trailing kisses up your legs, hearing your soft sniffles as he reaches your inner thighs, “Aren’t you enjoying yourself?”

“Soobin,” you whine, shutting your eyes as you feel his swollen lips leave opened-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs, already soaked with your arousal as he licks it up, only to begin biting and sucking at the area leisurely, “Soobin please—please let me cum, wanna cum so bad, please.”

The sound of your begging is welcomed to his ears— he looks up at you through his lashes, sparkling eyes a stark contrast to the filthy way he continues to mark your thighs, ignoring your soft whines that others will see them, please binnie…

“Others will see them?” he repeats, clenching his jaw at the way you nod frantically, a clear concern in your eyes— slowly, he stands, hooking your leg over his waist as he presses himself against you, hissing softly at the way you immediately soak through his sweats, “So what? Let them see. That way they know what happens when we’re alone.”

“But… we shouldn’t— you said we need to keep this hidden…” His words are nothing but confusing— you’re sure it reads on your face, because Soobin is aligning his cock with your entrance once more, chuckling softly at your expression before he shakes his head in exasperation.

“Did I? Well, I don’t wanna hide it anymore,” he says, eyes lidded and filled with need as he sinks himself slowly into you; your eyes are threatening to flutter shut at the sensation, only to be stopped at the feeling of Soobin cupping your chin, telling you softly look at me. before he finally bottoms out.

“Want everyone to know you’re mine,” he says, and you’re more than ready to respond with another mean comment before he continues, “And that I’m all yours. Don’t want anyone else to touch you.”

“W…what—?” your words are being cut short by the feeling of him fucking into you again, a hand coming up to grab his shoulder and your leg pulling him in closer in fear of having your orgasm ruined again— Soobin simply huffs, his hands going to hold onto your hips to fuck into you better, indulging in your fucked out face and dazed eyes as he smiles softly; slowly, he’s leaning in, lips brushing against yours as he speaks. 

“‘m so fucking stupid for starting all this,” he laughs softly, holding back a moan at the way you clench around him, your nails digging into your shoulder slightly, “Told myself I’d never catch any feelings like this— fuck, look at me now…”

“Just wanna keep you for myself— maybe I’m being selfish but… fuck,” you think you’re getting the gist of what he means— your free hand comes up to tangle itself in his hair as you close the gap between the two of you, hoping that you’re not misinterpreting his words as you feel him fuck you faster, setting a rhythm that has your eyes rolling back and your mouth falling open, so wound up from tonight that you think your legs might give out any moment now. 

“Soobin,” you whine out, pulling at his hair and shirt as you begin bucking your hips at him, trying to fuck yourself on his cock as you whine, “Please let me cum— please please please, need it so bad, just wanna cum, please?”

The way you’re whining and begging is more than enough to Soobin; he’s gripping your hips and fucking you harder, eyes widening slightly at the way your sounds increase in volume, too fucked dumb to even realize.

“Shit,” Soobin grits out, planting his hand on your mouth and telling you to quiet down, “You were really holding back, huh? There’s my girl, all loud and pretty for me.”

He’s cooing softly at the way tears well up in your eyes and spill promptly after; running over his skin, biting at his lip to suppress sounds of his own as he feels the way you become impossibly tight around him.

“You gonna cum? Pretty doll just wants to cream my cock, finally had enough of me using you, right?” The way you’re nodding mindlessly only spurs Soobin on, insanely turned on by the way you’ve become fucked stupid, “Come on baby, show me how good you feel, been waiting patiently to cum, such a perfect doll.”

He’s cooing softly and talking you through your orgasm— you don’t even realize that your legs have given out, and Soobin’s hands are flying to support you as he holds you up, pressing himself fully against you and grinding his hips into you as your head falls on his shoulder; your sounds are muffled by the fabric of his hoodie as you bury your head further into him, pressed entirely against the wall and left to Soobin’s mercy as you allow him to continue rutting into you slowly.

“Binnie,” you whine out, right next to his ears as you begin to speak quietly to him, “Want you to cum inside, fill me up please? Never wanted any other guys but you, just wanna feel you cum inside, please…”

Your soft pleas set Soobin off immediately— his hips are bucking into you so roughly that your body is jolting with every thrust, his head burying itself in your neck as he lets out a soft groan— you then feel the way he fills you up, warm cum staying inside from the way he continues to fuck you well after he’s calmed down, his shuddering breaths on your skin enough to know that how sensitive he is.

For a moment, you just stay there; pressed against the wall as Soobin slowly pulls his cock out of you, feeling the way his release begins to drip out from how much he filled you— your chest is heaving against his as you attempt to catch your breath, legs still weak as you take advantage of Soobin’s strength to help hold you up. 

Soobin’s arms wrap around your waist; he’s pulling you in even closer, your bodies melting together as he nuzzles his head into your neck, inhaling slowly as your own hesitant hands come up to embrace Soobin.

“Sorry I was so horrible to you,” he says, littering kisses on the exposed skin of your neck before he continues, “But I did mean that whole thing about catching feelings— the timing’s horrible, I know— but….”

You hum softly, as though lost in thought, “How long have you felt like this?”

“I… this whole time,” he admits, his face growing hotter at the confession, “I was just in denial half the time we did this whole thing— god, why do you think I suggested it in the first place…?”

You hold back a laugh— Soobin however, is nervous at your lack of reaction, pulling away from his hiding place to analyze your expression.

“I’m sorry. Is this weird? I understand if you don’t feel the same way, I’m really sorry if you felt uncomfortable with anything I did today, I seriously don’t know what I was thinking—“

You’re cutting him off with a kiss— but it’s gentle this time, and you really take a moment to feel his soft lips as you feel him smile against you, his cheeks warm under your touch as you finally pull away. 

“Soobin,” you say softly, smiling fondly at the way he lets out a soft hmm? in response, “I feel the same. But yeah, you were a fucking jerk with me.”

“I’m sorry,” he says immediately, cupping your face as he sports the look of a kicked puppy, eyes filled with nothing but guilt, “I’m sorry, I seriously never meant to go that far, I should’ve just asked you out like a normal person instead of being so mean.”

“I don’t know,” you say, pouting softly as his eyes widen softly, seemingly afraid of what you might say; you simply peck at his lips chastely, unable to hold back your laugh at his expression, “I kinda liked it.”

Your words are horribly confusing to Soobin— but hey, at least he knows how you feel. 

[heartandfangs]

NOT IF IT'S YOU— PART TWO.

GENRE University AU, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Romance, Angst, Smut, Fluff 

PAIRING Nerd!Heeseung x f!Reader

WARNINGS 18+ ONLY MDNI, Jealousy, Cursing, Making out, Arguing, Anxiety, Depression, Flirting, Mentions of food, Brief violence, Brief mention of alcohol, Brief mention of somnophilia, Crying (all sorts), Degradation, Breast worship, Multiple Orgasms, Squirting, Coming untouched, Heavy spit play, Light BDSM, Edging, Spanking, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Cream Pie, Hair pulling, Dry humping, Praise kink, First-time blow job, Ball sucking, Fingering, Cum eating, Ear licking, Biting, Public Sex, Light bondage, Dom!Heeseung, Brattysub!FemMC, Sub!Heeseung, Softdom!FemMC, Other OC’s

WORD COUNT 29k (Fic Total)

SUMMARY Befriending a nerd who wants nothing to do with you in a coding class you want absolutely nothing to do with becomes the challenge of the semester— and you’re determined to ace that shit no matter what. 

AUTHOR’S NOTE See end for author’s note cont.

Masterlist, Part One

© 2022, Heart and Fangs. All rights reserved. Do not translate or post anywhere.

Jake was nice enough to take care of closing the cafe so you and Heeseung could slip away undetected. You didn’t want to risk lingering in the area at the nearest bus stop, so you called an Uber to his place instead. The ride to Heeseung’s apartment was silent, and you stared out the window the entirety of the time, running back what had just happened in your head. Part of you wished you had interfered and repaid his ex tenfold for that slap, but you knew it wasn’t your place. 

It wasn’t until Heeseung uncurled your tight fist and laced his fingers through yours that you realized the amount of tension whirring throughout your body and the unspoken affection in his touch. 

What— what is he doing?

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t surprised he recently broke up with someone. It had been several months since you’d broken up with your ex, so you understood the stage that he was currently in, but everyone experienced things differently. Despite how he cut her off back at the cafe, were there any residual feelings he kept hidden for her? It had only been just over three months, after all, and who knew how long they were together for. 

But it’s not like you two were together in the first place, so why did it matter so much to you?

You willed yourself to stay calm.

“I feel like I owe you an explanation,” Heeseung said suddenly. 

“You don’t.”

“As your friend, I do.”

Friend, You glanced at your intertwined hands. 

Silence followed.

It turns out there were more things to talk about than you both wanted to. 

The Uber came to a stop, and you were about to untangle your hand from Heeseung’s until he opened the door and tugged you out his side. The building's unassuming facade was a blur as he bypassed the lobby elevators and took you up flights of stairs in a rush, presumably to avoid any awkward moments of silence with you at all costs. Plus, it must’ve given him a reason to hold on tight to you, and you let him. 

You’re not slick, Heeseung… then again, neither am I. 

By the time you arrived at his apartment, you were panting slightly and most definitely envious that Heeseung didn’t seem the slightest bit affected by scaling those stairs. He slowed down once he realized he’d been rushing you, and you were grateful. 

“Sorry. Come in,” He finally let go of your hand and shut the door behind you. His touch left your hand tingling. 

The lights flickered on to reveal a cozy kitchenette and quaint living room; the whole apartment smelled just like warm sugar, and you felt slightly more at ease despite the tension in the air. 

You thought Heeseung was going to get straight to the point, but instead, he turned to you, “Are you hungry? Can I get you anything to drink?”

He always took care of you in that manner. 

“I’m actually not even that hungry,” You admitted, propping your backpack up against the wall. 

“Same. Well, let me make us some tea, at least. Oh, but you had tea already,” Heeseung paused, “If you’d like to wash up in the meantime, I can lend you some clothes. I know it’s been a long day, and it’s pretty late. You can stay the night if you’d like.”

Your heart rate picked up, “Stay the night?”

“Only if you want to. If not, I’ll accompany you home in an Uber when you leave, I don’t trust ridesharing services at later hours.”

Now it went from just having dinner to staying the night. 

Heeseung’s a man, and you would’ve been able to spot his agenda from a mile away, but his intentions weren’t what stumped you. He could be flirty when he wanted to be, but he wasn’t single-minded or disrespectful, so you knew he wouldn’t try anything without your permission. 

It was the fact that he was proposing it in the first place, despite everything that had just happened.

“Um,” You took in the room as if in thought, eyes eventually landing back on him.

Heeseung straightened up and patiently inclined his chin; he didn’t appear overly eager or aloof as he waited for your answer. Rather, his expression appeared sensitive, as though he was still reeling from the past hour. 

Perhaps he actually did want your company for comfort. 

“I should probably stay since it’s getting late,” You decided. 

I guess we’ll have a friendly sleepover. 

His eyes softened, “Alright, you‘ve got my room to yourself. Let’s get you some clothes.”

You tentatively followed Heeseung into his bedroom, feeling extremely out of place. Still, you figured this would be an interesting experience. 

Unbeknownst to Heeseung, you covered up a giggle when you spotted a shelf collection of elegantly displayed wands. 

Really, he didn’t have a whole lot of stuff except for piles of comics scattered about, a fairly high-tech-looking workspace— which was to be expected— and a vintage record player with a vinyl collection you’d love to peruse some time… that is, if he ever invited you back. You rubbed your arm and tried not to focus on the dwindling time you had left with Heeseung. 

It was actually the size of his bed that took you by surprise— it was modern and large, even roomier than yours. 

The thought of him sharing it with someone annoyed you to no end, for some reason. 

While you took a gander about his room, Heeseung gathered several items of clothing from his drawers, all were either a dark wash of black or gray, save for a fluffy white pair of socks with a tag on them.

“Here's a bag for your laundry, and these are some sweatpants that don’t fit me anymore, but they’re adjustable. Also, there’s a shirt; the fuzzy socks I never wore. They were a secret Santa gift I got from Jake last year. I’ll shower after you. No rush.”

“Thanks,” you took the pile of clothes and slowly stepped backwards into the bathroom. 

“Okay,” Heeseung left around the corner immediately, making you laugh despite the heaviness that weighed down your heart. 

There was no way three months ago you could’ve predicted you’d be at Heeseung’s place under such shitty circumstances, but being able to advantage of his hot water made things slightly better in that moment… slightly.

As the hot water soaked into your hair, you reached for the only bottle of product on the edge of the tub and glanced at the label. God, he would use a three-in-one shower product, but at least it was a nice lavender scent. 

Excitement nearly overtook you when you realized it was the lavender scent. 

While you lathered down with it, suddenly, the titillating image of a damp-haired Heeseung flashed behind your eyes.

You imagined him pulling you back against his bare chest and spreading the creamy pastel purple substance all over your breasts from behind, massaging it into your skin until bubbles spilled over his thick fingers and down your ribs.

Suddenly you felt dizzy, your nipples hardening at the intrusive thought. 

It was more than easy to picture him pressing you up against the damp tile walls and running his hands across all your sweet spots, especially dipping his fingers between your legs to draw lazy circles there, taking his time with you like you knew he would. 

Ah, the hallucinations are already starting. Great. 

Definitely helped with ensuring you felt mentally stable before talking to Heeseung about his deep past and trying to figure out your feelings towards one another. 

Maybe you should eat something or at least ask if he had some alcohol stashed away somewhere.  

Having nearly lost track of time, you rinsed fast and shut off the water. Taking care not to slip, you emerged from the lavender-scented steam and quickly dried off over the soft bathroom mat.

It dawned on you that you had no extra underwear. You stared at your plastic bag of dirty clothes that you kicked under Heeseung’s sink for the time being.  

Well, you’d just have to make this work. 

You rolled the cuffs and waistband of Heeseung’s grey sweatpants as much as you could without it looking dumb and then slipped his dark-wash long-sleeve over your head. Lastly, you ripped off the tag on the fuzzy socks and tugged them on, taking a last look at yourself through the foggy mirror. 

Felt kinda airy down there, but at least you were clean and comfy. It wasn’t much different from the clothes you threw on while at home.

You gave your soaked hair strands another good squeeze before hanging up your towel and heading into the living room to let Heeseung know you were finished. 

Just by the rich aroma in the air, you could tell right away he had cooked something. His eyes grew slightly when he saw you, and he had just transferred ramen into a bowl, by the looks of it. 

Secretly your mouth watered, and you almost felt guilty that you’d just fantasized about this sweet boy in his own shower not a moment ago.

“Sorry, it’s nothing special, but I made something for you anyway. Still, don’t feel obligated to eat it, just know that it wasn’t my ideal first meal to make for you,” Heeseung set it on the counter with a set of utensils, a glass of water, and all the while, he’d hardly blinked since laying eyes on you. 

You shuffled forward and pulled up a stool, “Actually, I was getting hungry all of a sudden, and you read my mind. Thanks.”

Heeseung seemed to find your appearance enthralling because he failed to answer in a timely manner, “Sure, I’ll be quick.”

He left the room, and despite feeling incredibly self-conscious, you devoured that bowl of steaming ramen. Something about eating it late at night just made it ten times tastier, especially after such a bizarre day. It warmed you up for the time being until you set down your utensils and downed your water. With a full belly, you stood up and did your due diligence by giving the dishes a good scrub over the sink and leaving them out to dry on the rack. 

Exhaustion was quick to hit you like a truck, and the temperature suddenly dropped in the room, a chill running across your skin. The anxiety of speaking with Heeseung must’ve settled in your bones. 

I probably should’ve asked for a hoodie or something. Also, putting off our inevitable conversation isn’t helping my restlessness either.

Cautiously, you padded into his room and stood in the doorway, considering if you should look in his closet for a jacket. It wasn’t ideal for you to trespass and sift though his things, though.

With chattering teeth, you surveyed the thick duvet and inviting pillows on his bed. The sound of the shower running was still audible, so you hastily slid under the soft sheets and curled up onto your side with a shiver. It was so much warmer underneath, and the sheets smelled nice like he’d just washed them.

If he asks, I’ll just tell him I was about to freeze to death and I didn’t want to rummage through his belongings. 

Feeling a tiredness wash over you from the day, you pulled the duvet up to your chin and momentarily closed your eyes. 

Behind your eyelids, you somehow noticed the lights turning off and slowly awoke from your nap. You fought to stay awake and laid eyes on Heeseung’s back illuminated by moonlight, just before he passed through the doorway into the living room. 

“Heeseung…” You called out groggily, “Wait, we need to talk….”

Heeseung looked over his shoulder, “You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“I’m awake,” You insisted, despite the heaviness weighing your eyelids down.

“Mhm. I’m glad you made yourself comfortable,” He teased, approaching you with his hands in his pockets. 

“You left me no choice, I was cold….” 

As you gradually sat up in bed, Heeseung clicked on the bedside lamp and took a seat on the edge. You noted his unexpected appearance; he wore black sweatpants and a vintage, dark gray long-sleeve with some sort of gothic script writing across it that you couldn’t make out in the dim lighting. His hair was damp and messy compared to the tame way he always wore it in class. The guy would look this good right out of the shower.

You bit your lip as you were reminded of your fantasy of him but nearly jumped when Heeseung slid the tips of his fingers over yours, “You’re warm now.”

“Geez— you’re not,” His skin felt like ice. He had to have taken a cold shower. 

Heeseung was quick to retract them and lean back on his palms with a smirk, “Thought it’d wake you up.”

“It did,” Mindlessly, your hand inched across the sheets and slid under his own just to feel him again.

For several seconds, all you could hear was your heartbeat, and you tried to interpret the restraint behind his gaze.

Heeseung broke the silence, “Are we gonna talk?”

“Yeah,” You nodded.

“Okay. We can start wherever you’d like,” Heeseung slowly withdrew his hand.

You blinked, then sat back against the headboard. You looked up at the ceiling in thought but still felt his eyes on you. “Hm…”

Just treat it like a sleepover night, like you’re interviewing and asking your best friend to spill their darkest deepest secrets when you just can’t sleep. 

“So, how long were you together with your ex?” You supposed you didn’t want to beat around the bush if he was willing to share. 

Heeseung glanced at the carpet, “I broke up with my ex at the beginning of the semester, but we've been together for about five years. I was a little younger than I should’ve been when we first started dating in high school, but we’ve known each other since we were kids. Back then, I thought things would end up alright between us.”

Your stomach dropped at the connotation of their relationship, and the distaste you felt towards his ex only grew. 

“What exactly happened that led you to break up with her?”

He leaned onto his knees and folded his hands together, “She was also my manager at my old serving job— her family owns this restaurant group. I… caught her in the back with a new hire. It pushed me over the edge, but I had to keep my job for a few weeks to make rent. I eventually quit since things were already building up to it.”

“That’s… awful. I’m so sorry.” 

“After knowing her for so long, I think I saw it coming from her, but it still shocked me. As you can tell, she’s not someone who makes it easy for you to go against her wishes, but I’ve made things very clear with her.”

“Yeah,” You pursed your lips, “Was she always this way?”

“No, actually. She changed at some point when we got older. I cared for her when we were younger, but I can’t remember the exact moment when I stopped loving her. I think I only stayed because I was afraid, and she was all I knew.”

He loved her at one point.  

You had no words to comfort an inevitable heartbreak like that. 

“I think I understand where you’re coming from. My ex cheated on me at the start of the year,” You could hardly believe the words that were coming out of your mouth, but somehow found the courage to continue. 

Heeseung’s head shot up, “You?”

“I like to think I was just too much for him to handle, but who knows what really drives people to hurt their supposed loved ones like that. I really figured he’d be my first and last… maybe if I were in a video game or something. Left me depressed for a few months, but I’m better off these days,” You gave him a sad smile and pulled up your knees to wrap your arms around them. 

“I didn’t know…” Heeseung’s words faded. 

You picked at the comforter. “Just another peek past the facade. I only brought that up because, well, you’re not alone.”

When the room fell silent, you glanced up at him only to find his pained eyes that stirred up emotion in you. 

“How do you feel now?”

You paused at the question, really turned it around in your head. He forced you to look inside of yourself, past depths of stagnant emotions you had no desire to uncover or acknowledge, but he gave you no choice. 

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you pressed them shut with a shake of your head.

Why so suddenly? Why am I feeling everything again now?

You felt his knuckles brush across your cheek. Heeseung took his time swiping away the tears that kept falling with his thumbs, and when you opened your eyes again, his own were glassed over, but he didn’t turn away from you.

“Oh. No, no, don’t—“ Absolutely flustered, you drew up on your knees and pressed your sleeves over his eyes to soak up his tears. You were terrible at comforting emotionally distressed people, let alone yourself. 

Is this boy really crying for me?

You were unable to help from chuckling weakly as you watched his sweet little lips tremble, “I’ve already cried so many pitiful tears for myself, it’s not even worth it, Heeseung. Trust me.” 

Finally, you drew your soaked sleeves away from his bleary eyes and cupped his flushed cheeks in your hands, “Trust me, sweetheart.”

He nodded and gently set your hands down on the sheets but held onto them. This all was definitely cathartic for you both.

“It’s okay to feel the way we do,” Heeseung regained himself, “It’s just— I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you to fill the void, that period of emptiness people usually experience— that I experienced. I’m not. I sat alone in it for weeks after everything happened and came to terms with it.”

Nodding, you listened to his words, shocked at how much of his heart he was bearing to you.

“___, I care about you. Do you understand that?”

After countless times he’s proven that to you, you acknowledged his words, “I do.”

“Good,” Heeseung’s torn expression eased into something more fond when he regarded you, “Because I was grateful for you and your consistent requests for help, and I tried to repay you in the only manner I was able to at the time. In a way, you distracted me a bit from everything going on in that part of my life. 

At the start, I threw myself into my studies, but it’s true that I also took advantage of the chance to be near someone, to be needed, even if just for a class period.”

Both his words and soft gaze disarmed you— slowly, every insecure thought you had about how he felt toward you diminished. 

“You know, your persistence really threw me off, but I was adamant about keeping some distance between us. I wasn’t trying to hop from one relationship to another and cling to someone— I needed time too… Turns out the time I needed was shorter than I thought once you came along.”

A small smile pulled at your lips, “Are you saying I knocked some sense into you?” 

“Yes,” He admitted, “Knowing that I hurt you when you were just trying to get to know me made me realize I’d taken things too far. That I didn’t need to push people away anymore.”

A newfound admiration bloomed in your chest for Heeseung.

“You made up for it, though.”

“Have I? I feel like I’m still working on making it up to you.”

Heeseung has been generous with me ever since I met him, regardless of how private he had been. Even during our rockiest moments— even now.

You looked down, “Don’t feel like you have to keep making up anything to me, because you don’t.”

He brushed a damp strand of hair away from your eyes. 

“I could say the same for you. Sometimes we do things not because they need to be done, but because we want to.”

Heeseung quietly watched surprise take hold of your features.

Unable to hold yourself back any longer, you threw yourself on him and wrapped your arms around his neck in the biggest hug you swore you’d ever given. Your heart was beating out of your chest, but you squeezed him hard just to let him know how much you cared and were astonished when he drew you against him even closer. 

“Thank you,” He whispered in your ear. 

Your eyes fluttered open, realizing your lashes were damp with secret tears. “Anytime,” you breathed. 

Heeseung chuckled against your neck, and you refused to move, so he drew you under the sheets with him. Instead, you relaxed into his embrace fully, letting his peaceful, lavender scent encompass you for the whole night. 

The first emotion you experienced upon waking was frustration; you were pulled from the kind of dream you didn’t want to forget but had absolutely no recollection of. All you knew was that it left you feeling hot in all the right places and you didn’t want it to end— and then someone was playing with your hair.

A shiver worked itself up your spine as they ran their hands slowly through your strands, stroking gently along your neck, and it felt so, so nice. You stirred but feigned sleep a little longer just to enjoy the sensation of tingles running down your back. When you finally came to, you grumbled and pressed up against the warm body beneath you.

Heeseung.

He looked slightly startled but smirked at you, his laid-back appearance taking you by surprise first thing in the morning. The fact that you had fallen asleep next to him for the entire night began to settle in your mind, and you suddenly felt incredibly shy. 

Especially since he was playing with your hair. Exactly how long had he been awake? 

“Morning.”

“Hey. I must look like a wreck,” You said, a bit embarrassed. 

“You look like you slept well,” Heeseung hummed.

Oh, his voice sounds deeper in the morning.

You rubbed at the sleep in your eyes and tried to smooth down your bedhead, “For some reason I did… I-is that drool?”

Mortified, your eyes bore into the dark patch on his shirt in disbelief, then your hands were grabbing at his collar, “Change out of that right now.”

“It’s fine,” Heeseung insisted, resting his hand on your wrist.

“No, I can’t look at it!” You pulled at the fabric in a panic.

“It’s not that big of a– I– Okay!” He sat up and pulled his shirt over his head; you snatched it and hid the evidence behind your back, already planning on burning it if you could find a lighter in his flat.

“I’m sorry,” You sighed but did a double take and stared because any normal person would, just not for as long as you did. His lean physique took you by surprise, especially when he always wore oversized clothing. 

With an amused smile, Heeseung leaned forward to swipe his thumb against the corner of your lip as if there were drool there.

He tilted his head, “Are you?”

You lept off the bed in search of another shirt in his drawers, “Stop that.” 

“What?”

You ignored him. 

A black T-shirt caught your eye, and you balled it up to launch it across the room at him but flinched when you suddenly felt Heeseung’s presence behind you. His hand brushed against your back in an attempt not to scare you.

“Someone’s jumpy in the morning,” Heeseung commented, taking the shirt from you to pull it on. You got another peek at his cut waistline just as he was adjusting the fabric over his head. 

“Usually I’m not….”

For as much of a nerdy person as he was, he certainly took care of himself. You thought back to the first time you’d gotten a glimpse of his skin after class and compelled yourself not to turn into a stuttering idiot after blowing things out of proportion first thing in the morning. 

“Well, I have a 9 am final I need to leave for in about 15 minutes. There’s an extra unopened toothbrush in the drawer and stuff if you want to get ready,” Heeseung called over his shoulder as he dug out different pieces of clothing to wear. “Clothes-wise, wear whatever you want.”

“I’ll just wear this out. I’m gonna head back to my apartment to change before my afternoon class anyways.”

Heeseung’s bathroom was very minimal, with a few basic products that were easy to find. It looked tidy because of that… couldn’t exactly say the same for yours. 

You splashed water on your skin with a bit of face soap, and after patting it dry, you found the extra toothbrush and toothpaste he mentioned, letting your mind drift while you brushed your teeth.

When I think about it, I can’t believe we’ve become this comfortable with each other. He’s a much more emotional person than I initially thought. Staying overnight was a pretty risky move in the sense that anything could’ve happened. I mean anything. Also, it was pretty gross that I drooled on him, but he was hardly deterred. He even played with my hair…

The brushing came to a stop.

…And he actually cried for me last night.

Heeseung filed in next to you and casually started brushing his teeth. You wanted to laugh at how unfamiliar the simple act felt but ended up staring at him through the mirror, noticing his puffy eyelids. Yours were hardly any better. 

Then he wriggled his eyebrows at you, causing you to spit immediately into the sink. So much for brushing for a full two minutes. He seemed like himself again.

You rinsed and patted your mouth with a towel, “So weird.”

Heeseung shrugged and finished up in the bathroom when you grabbed your laundry and went to locate all of your belongings ahead of time so you wouldn’t hold him up by the time he had to leave. As you organized your laundry in your backpack, the previous night's events continued to flash through your mind.

“Hey, what are you gonna do about your glasses?”

Heeseung emerged from the bathroom and tipped his head back to place something in his eye, “Wear contacts until I can get them fixed.”

“Ah.”

You fell into thought as Heeseung finished inserting his contacts, “I was wondering about this for a while, but when we first ate Thai together… Why were you acting so weird after I mentioned you looked different without your glasses? I said you looked cute either way, but it seemed like I offended you.”

“Oh, that? No, you didn’t offend me…” Heeseung murmured. 

Your brows furrowed, “What was it then?”

He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and nearly stumbled from misstepping. “It wasn’t what you said. It’s just when you touched my hair and what not— I just… I realized I wanted you, but it didn’t feel right yet.”

As if his own words had just dawned on him, his hands froze on the waistband of his sweats. At the same time, you looked up at Heeseung from rummaging in your bag.  

Every little flirtatious interaction and hint of jealousy clicked together in your mind like puzzle pieces, confirming his longing for you since then.

It’s not like you didn’t come to that conclusion, but even back then? And to admit that aloud, now?

A thrumming tension hung between you two as you stood up. 

“You wanted me?” 

Heeseung swallowed thickly as you approached him, forcing him back against the foot of his bed. If only you knew what your presence by his side every day and in his most private spaces had done to him, maybe you’d show a little mercy and understanding. 

He wished you were aware of how every room you occupied was imbued with your scent and how he couldn’t sleep a wink last night because you were pressed up so soundly against him, unable to stay still as you dreamt of things he so desperately wanted to be a part of.

Wished you knew how happy it made him to see you casually interacting with his belongings like you already owned them, eating the simple ramen he made for you, getting comfortable under his sheets, and wearing his clothing without a second thought now. 

Wished he was insane enough to pull your chair towards him once everyone in class had left, slide down on his aching knees, and bury his head between your thighs to make you scream his name over and over until your sweet voice grew hoarse. 

Heeseung wanted to indulge you with his deepest desires.

He supposed all crossroads led to this very moment— Since the day you walked through the classroom door with a smile and he forced himself to pretend your existence wasn’t that important, that he wasn’t in the slightest bit affected by how frighteningly beautiful or intimidating you were to him when you found the need to be. 

There was no way he could ignore someone like you for long, not when you showered him in attention and simply couldn’t leave him be. Even when he’d act overbearing and nagging, proving to be a bit much for you at times. 

As fate would have it, he was destined to bend to you, his mind, body, and soul more than willing, even if he fought it at the start.

He should be afraid of putting so much trust in someone who held so much power over him, but he wasn’t— not anymore.  

Every bit of him wanted to be dialed into now as you reached out and rearranged a few pieces of his bangs around his eyes, running your fingers softly through his hair, setting off alarms in his body like you had all those weeks ago. 

“I wanted you,” He admitted. 

Truly.

The second he leaned into your touch, you did it a little more roughly, and the look he gave said that you were treading on thin ice with him. 

Despite his piercing eyes, you remained calm and tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear before tracing the outline of it with your fingertip all the way down to his ear lobe, noting how a soft sigh escaped his lips as you massaged him there. You ignored the urge to take his ear lobe into your mouth, despite wanting to hear the beautiful sounds he might make for you. 

Instead, you let sweeter thoughts motivate you and ran your fingers along his jaw, holding him close as you stood on your tippy toes, stare flitting down to his lips. You didn’t have to reach much, Heeseung was already leaning down, meeting you more than halfway.

When your lips met, it felt delightful and sure, sparking like a kiss that had been a long time coming— but an undeniable intensity dominated the caress from the sheer amount of desire you had for him since the very start. Heeseung responded immediately, and you could sense his struggle to manage his eagerness for you.

Intentionally keeping the pace slow but sensual, you pulled back and swiped your tongue against his lips any time you felt him get worked up under your touch.

It frustrated Heeseung, who simply wanted to be as near to you as possible, so once your lips connected again, he slyly tilted his head to deepen the kiss, reveling in your startled moans as he caught you off guard. His hands slid up your smooth back and dug into your skin, pressing you close so he could finally feel you against him and keep you there.

Of course, he tasted like mint, and his touch was more than covetous by how he grazed your shoulders under your shirt, revealing your skin and sending sparks down your spine once more. Suddenly breathless, you parted for a moment, but Heeseung held you tightly against his heaving chest, letting you know that there was no escaping him as his heart beat wildly beneath your palms. 

“And now?” You had the gal to ask when you were the one waning under his passion. 

“Mm,” His lips caressed your cheek, “Don’t think I’ll be able to get enough of you.”

Heeseung’s breath caught when you dragged your hand against the soft fabric covering his chest and abdomen. You gathered the shirt higher on his waist, then ran the tips of your nails up and down his stomach, circling his belly button to tease him. Then you stoked the flames, pressing your hips flush against his, and could feel his excitement sear against your thigh. 

A breathy hiss left his lips, and he gazed at you with heavy eyes, the mere sound making you throb with need for him. You enjoyed smoothing your palms beneath his shirt and over his lightly toned chest.

“Don’t stop….”

Your fingers just grazed his nipples as his hips jerked against yours. 

“Show me where, but do it slowly.”

Heeseung shamelessly tugged the waistband of his sweatpants down on his hips and took your wrist to gradually draw your touch lower, much lower, until you were palming his hard length through the thin layer of his black briefs. Even through the fabric, he was hot to the touch and pulsing against your fingers. 

“Heeseung,” you drawled accusingly. 

“Fuck,” His head dropped forward into the crook of your neck as you began to squeeze and rub along his thick cock. He held onto your wrist and began grinding into your hand, his panting growing heavier against your skin by the second. You could feel his wetness starting to form where you palmed him over and over. 

“Hey, be honest with me. Did you get hard sleeping next to me?”

Heeseung licked his lips, “Just a little.”

Your curiosity got the best of you, “And did you touch yourself?”

Heeseung stiffened against you, “Only a bit when you’d grind against my side. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to last the night….”

He groaned when you firmly groped his cock through his briefs, making him feel like he was yours. 

“When I’d grind on you?” You asked incredulously. 

“Ah– Yes, you were the exact way I am right now– rubbing against me, all breathless and whiny. Must’ve been a good dream; made me jealous,” He revealed, even as a smug smile grew on his face.

Your recollection was faint, but you knew he wasn’t joking.

“Did you feel me up when I was asleep?”

His grin dropped, and his voice tightened, “No. You know I wouldn’t do that,” His doubtful expression then shifted to one of cautious inquisitiveness, “Not unless you wanted me to….”

He caught how your brows rose at the meaning and found your reaction entertaining.

Of course, Heeseung would never touch you without your approval, but the fact he just brazenly put it out there as an option was wild to you. He’s so unassuming that you weren’t sure what to think after he casually suggested a naughty offer like that as if it were just a pre-planned favor he could easily take care of for you.

Heeseung seemed to surprise you in many ways, but you should’ve known to expect the unexpected from him at this point. Maybe you’d take him up on his offer later, but for the time being, you were intrigued by this side of Heeseung you just glimpsed. 

An impish idea came to mind as you desired to provoke him further and draw him out of his shell. You twirled around in his arms and arched your back to press your ass against his bulge, enticing him to grind on you. Once you tipped your head back to look up at him and reached overhead to tug at his dark locks, you made your neediness undeniable to him.

Heeseung recognized it too and, for a moment, was taken aback. He could tell by the glint in your eyes that you wanted to relinquish your control to him; it was that similar kind of fascination you looked at him with in the restaurant when all he wanted to do was bend you over that wooden table and please you in every which way. 

“And if I’d woken up all needy and begging for you, what would you have done?” You nestled your cheeks against his cock, delighted by how he tucked his lip under his teeth to stifle a moan, “Would you be nice, Hee? Or would you ruin me?”

His initial shyness soon morphed into complete hunger as one of his hands found your waist, and the other snaked up between your breasts to wrap around your neck. Heeseung anchored you to his chest, and when you felt him take hold of your jaw to kiss you over your shoulder, you melted in his arms. 

“Why don’t I just show you?”

It didn’t even register that Heeseung shoved you onto the bed and pressed you onto your stomach. He forced your legs apart with his own before holding you down by your nape and hip, letting you know your place. Instantly, he began grinding his hips into your ass, and all you felt was the unyielding pressure and heat that threatened to undo you right then and there. 

“Oh, fuck yes—“

It felt so good to be pinned beneath Heeseung, let alone a person who you entirely adored from head to toe. His weight bearing down on you felt delicious and heavy; you could only imagine what the full force of his thrusts felt like, especially without any barriers of clothing. 

God, you really thought you’d be the one to bring him to his knees first, but here you were. The sensation of his hard length dragging between your ass caused your pussy to dampen your sweatpants uncontrollably.

Even Heeseung could feel it. 

Oh shit. Shit—

“Making a mess already, baby?”

“Shut up,” You gritted out, his words setting your face aflame. 

Yes, yes— you’ve turned me on since the day we met!

Is that what you want to hear me say? 

He was soaking in his briefs just minutes ago. Who was he to talk?

You were barely able to quiet your yelp in time when Heeseung slid his hands past your waistband and pushed the fabric just beneath your cheeks to knead at the soft flesh. He did it in such a teasing way that made you feel delirious and frantic at the same time like you wanted him to strip you bare and run his tongue all over your body right after. 

“Talk to me that way again and see what happens,” He warned, egging you on. His hands on your ass grew more insistent as he gripped and massaged your flesh, making you grasp at the sheets. 

Ah, you couldn’t believe Heeseung also had this side to him, but at the same time, you had an inkling. What a crazy contrast to how he was whimpering under your touch just moments before. Typically, he was so patient with you in class, but you just knew he had an itch to scratch when it came to you.  

Excitement bristled through your entire being, and it didn’t go unnoticed. 

“I said shut–”

He brought his palm down before you even finished, and god was there power behind it.

A moan ripped from your throat, the sharp sound of flesh meeting flesh ringing in your ears as his hands possessively ran over your stinging ass.

“Again,” Heeseung baited you. 

Astonished with yourself, you bit your lip hard. At the same time, your pussy clenched, juices spilling onto the sheets. You loved the feeling but realized you weren’t going to last with how swollen your clit felt from his words and the way he handled you. Even just jerking against the mattress after the blow Heeseung landed nearly made you come. 

“No?”

This is insane. There is no way I’m going to come just from getting spanked once. No fucking way. 

You shook your head and rubbed your thighs together as Heeseung pressed a wet kiss to the flushed skin he’d marked. 

“Mm, that’s what I thought.”

The cold air hit your legs and pussy when he yanked off your bottoms in one fell swoop, and then he was flipping you onto your back and running his large hands against your sides to gather your shirt over your breasts. 

“Heeseung,” You gulped, suddenly feeling very exposed in the morning light. 

“___, be good for me,” He tipped your chin up to capture your lips in a reassuring kiss, “I just wanna make you feel good like you can let go without worrying about anything. Trust me?”

His words calmed you immediately.

“Of course.”

“Good girl,” Heeseung kissed you once more, and you relaxed into it, letting your legs fall open so he could press closer. That is, until his hands were back to slowly stroking up and down your curves, thumbing at your peaking nipples. 

“You are gorgeous,” Heeseung smiled, noticing a deep flush creeping across your cheeks, “So soft and sensitive…”

He squeezed your breasts together and dragged the flat of his hot tongue between your cleavage with a flick. The visual was so fucking overwhelming you hung your forearm over your eyes with a whimper. 

“…But you could have me on my knees if you wanted to, and you know it.” 

Doing as he pleased, he took the edge of your shirt and pulled it tightly over your breasts so that your nipples would harden with every pass of the fabric. Each time he tugged the edge of the shirt over the swell of your breasts, your nipples would perk up against the cold air, tempting Heeseung to teasingly place kisses around them before repeating it all over again. 

He was receptive to your minuscule reactions, watching closely at the way you wet your lips and arched your back to press your chest against his face anytime he drew near. 

“A-ah— Hee,” You complained, threading your fingers through his hair, desperately wanting his mouth fully on your tits, “Fucking tease….”

You felt him mouth kisses at the underside of your breast and swipe his tongue back and forth while your nipples tingled, begging for attention.

“Acting like you’re not enjoying this? Someone really likes to play dumb around me,” He kissed your throat as you squirmed underneath his rough touch, your thighs drenched in arousal. 

Finally, Heeseung tucked your shirt above your chest and dragged his hand down the valley of your breasts and over your stomach, stopping right above your clit, just to make you even crazier. 

“That’s how you keep me wrapped around your finger, isn’t it?”

He came back up to seal his lips over your aching breast and suckled deeply against your nipple. The sloppy noises caused your body to clench and fold under him; you were twisting in his grasp, barely able to withstand the expressions of his deep-seated desire. 

Then he stroked you down there, let you rub your sensitive slit against him, and make a drooly mess over his palm. You moaned unabashedly at the feeling of him finally palming your pussy. 

“Oh my god!”

Having sensed your uncontrollable surge of arousal, he lapped at your sweetness on his hand, brought your leg around his waist, and let you rut your bare hips against him. As you curled around his head and clutched him against your chest, you grinded against him messily like you were in heat, using him to satiate the growing fire in your core without a care if you were soaking his shirt or getting a cramp in your side. 

Heeseung pulled you up to sit on his bulge, and your hands shot out against his chest to support yourself over him. He held you firmly by your love handles and let you hump against his cock to your heart's content, clearly enjoying the view of you above him with a coy smile. 

“Shit! Hee….”

Heeseung squeezed and rolled your breasts in his hands, “Had a feeling you’d like riding me. That little clit must be so swollen and pink—“

Soon enough, he found himself preoccupied with lapping his hot tongue against your other breast, coating it in saliva before smacking your nipple against his lips. You threw your head back and moaned deeply, the thrusts of your hips unrelenting. Heeseung’s hands blazed up your thighs and ass, insistent on making it known how much he’d been holding himself back from touching you. 

Heeseung snapped his hips up into you, causing you to nearly keel over on top of him, thighs shaking and spit spilling from your lips onto his chest. He easily caught you, his chuckle vibrating against your skin, and laid you back against the sheets to lick over your chin and slip his heavy tongue against yours. He moaned into your mouth, tasting you deeply with every stroke, and you simply allowed him to devour you. 

He knew you were purely holding onto him for dear life at this point. 

Abruptly, you heard Heeseung curse under his breath upon seeing the time on his bedside stand. “You don’t have class ‘till later, right?”

His words almost didn’t register in your lust-hazed brain as you chased his lips for more kisses. 

“Wha? No—“

Suddenly, Heeseung was gripping your thighs, pulling your legs over his shoulders to fold you in half. He dragged his fingers through your slicked folds again and circled your clit before sucking the taste of you off them. 

“Good,” You gasped as he smirked down at you, then his perfectly aligned hips rolled into yours— and stopped for nothing.

With a broken moan, your eyes fluttered shut at the sweet, sweet heat. The friction of his sweatpants only heightened your pleasure as his hips drew deep, slow circles against your bare pussy, your eyes rolling back into your head every time he made contact with your swollen clit just right. 

“Hee— Heeseung—“ Your call devolved into a litany of moans, filling his ears like pleasing notes. 

He was almost fed up with himself for not making a move when you embraced him after your talk because he could’ve been enjoying your mewls of pleasure all night long. Almost. Truthfully, he wouldn’t have traded anything for the endearing way you tackled him onto his bed with abandon and curled up in his arms to sleep, even as torturous as laying next to you was. 

“I love being needed by you,” Heeseung confessed against your lips, “Even though I know you don’t really need me.”

“No— I need you,” You whimpered against him, your nails digging pretty red crescents into his shoulder blades. The force of his hips was jarring enough to make you feel like you were losing your sanity as he drilled you deeper and deeper into his mattress. 

“Yeah, baby? How badly?”

The pace of his thrusts quickened if that were even possible.

“So fucking badly! You’re— you’re gonna make me come,” you warned, “Fuck—“

You felt the knot in your stomach begin to unravel, and then in seconds, quick pulses of emanating heat dragged you under a blanketed haze of pleasure. 

Heeseung was beyond pleased with the blissful expression you wore, knowing you saw fireworks behind your fluttering eyelids. As though in tune with your body, Heeseung eventually slowed his thrusts and took in every bare inch of you that glistened with a pretty sheen of sweat, basking in the sound of your shaky moans.

If you had the sense to peel your eyes open, you’d crumble even more under his fervent expression as he gently pressed his hips against your clenching pussy and kept the perfect amount of pressure there for your enjoyment. 

“Mmn!” Inevitably, you trembled and huffed against him from oversensitivity, in disbelief of how hard he still was. 

He caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger— kissed you like you had breath to spare.

“See, you like being teased, don’t you, baby?”

“Hee… fuck…”

When you eventually came to, you glanced down between your bodies and saw the aftermath; the sheets and front of his sweatpants were stained with your release. However, the tent in his pants is what caught your attention, and you salivated at his twitching dick, knew how big it was under your hand— wanted to see it drip with pearly cum. 

Despite being lightheaded, you grabbed at his hips with determination.

“Sorry, I got carried away, but I have to go,” Heeseung caught your hands and was already gently tugging you to sit up so he could clean you off. 

“But—“

“I know we’re gonna be so busy starting today, but do you want to meet up Thursday evening in one of the study rooms? The day before our final? I promise I’ll make it up to you.” 

Make it up? After everything he just did, make up for what? Did he mean make out? Your brain was unable to compute, and you just found yourself nodding. 

Heeseung chuckled and sealed the deal with a kiss that conveyed a deep affection you felt unworthy of. His hands threaded into your hair, it almost felt like he wasn’t going to let you go, but he did.

“See you then.”

Knowing Heeseung didn’t come during his first time with you haunted you for several days up until your final study session with him of the year. He certainly had to be aware that you had no intention of leaving him high and dry, but it still frustrated you. Timing was the biggest obstacle then, and you were determined not to let it get in the way today. 

Like a diligent student, you had studied for all your classes and prepared for your finals like it was the apocalypse. Despite your worries, a majority of them you already knocked out; the final project for your coding class consisted of an entire presentation of your work the following day, officially making it your most concerning project. 

You loathed public speaking, and of course, there was a mistake in your code that you failed to catch in the haze of exhaustion while you were burning the midnight oil, so it gave you all the more reason to look forward to seeing Heeseung. Thanks to him, you actually had a chance at acing the class rather than just having survived it.

Plus, you were glad to have an excuse to talk about something other than what went down at his apartment because you were still working your brain around the different sides of himself he’d shown to you that morning. 

You smirked to yourself. 

Will I encounter the angel or devil today? 

It was always chilly in the library, so you felt your nipples pebble under your favorite sweatshirt in reaction to the air conditioner. The outfit you chose to wear was slightly out of the norm but purposeful. You ditched the bra opting for comfort, and with Heeseung in mind, you traded your typical pair of sweatpants for a white, pleated skirt that matched your casual sneakers. 

Usually, you stuck purely to skincare, but your make-up was fairly light for today, save for a touch of red coloring your lips and liner with mascara to brighten your eyes. It was a nice mix of your signature relaxed look and a touch of coquette. Obviously, it wasn’t over the top, but you felt pretty cute. 

You spotted a focused-looking Heeseung through the study room window at the end of a long row of shelves. He’d chosen the most inconspicuous study room on the top floor, and you had to applaud him for that. 

A wave of confidence overcame you as you approached the room at an unhurried pace. 

After two knocks, you pulled open the door. 

“Oh, I almost didn’t recognize you, specs,” You smiled, dropping your bag onto the table and comfortably leaning against the edge. 

“Yeah?” Heeseung sat back against his chair and took off his new glasses with a snort, inspecting the plastic frames, “My original glasses are taking a while to get repaired. Weirdly, I got some stares from people in my other classes and customers at work without them, so I just picked up a shitty pair from the Dollar Tree. They give me a headache but beats the odd looks….”

He scrambled to slide them back in place once he noticed your atypical attire, his gaze slowly trailing up your legs.

“Sounds like they were checking you out. I guess I can see where they’re coming from,” You crossed your legs, holding back a smile. 

He exuded an interesting vibe today himself, his cute glasses served as the biggest contrast against his black ensemble consisting of gray jeans and a black shirt. If he’d worn only his contacts on top of everything, it would’ve been too much for you to handle.

Inwardly, you snickered as the tips of his ears blushed red, and he quickly glanced down at his keyboard. Even you were still trying to figure out how this was the same guy who relentlessly teased your body to death earlier that week. 

Oh, he’s the shy one today. Let’s see for how long…

You eased the attention off of him, “I’m probably gonna need you to double-check my project.”

“That’s fine. I’ll help you after you tell me how this tastes.”

You tilted your head, “Hm?”

“I baked you something.”

“You— you did?” Your eyes brightened as he rested his hand on a simple, ribbon-wrapped package sitting next to his laptop that you hadn’t noticed before. 

“Yeah, don’t worry, it’s edible,” His grin made your heart thrum. 

Heeseung handed you the package and patiently looked up at you with wide eyes as you unboxed its contents. You tugged at the ribbon delicately as it unraveled and peeked under the lid. 

“Macarons!”

“The decadent kind. Try it,” He reached over and took out a cream-colored macaron, set the box aside, then held it to your lips, “You look pretty, by the way….”

Eep!

“Thank you,” You gave him a sincere smile, causing him to nibble on his lip. 

You tucked your hair behind your ear and leaned forward to take a bite. The texture was marvelous; one bite in, and you were sold on the delicious buttercream filling. 

“Mmm— the butter,” Your mouth watered in between chewing, “This flavor beats all the others out of the park! I think it’s my new favorite. Seriously.”

“No need to savor it, I can always make more,” He reminded you. 

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah.”

You stared at him suspiciously. Did he mean it? As in, he intended to stay in touch?

“If I wanted some next week, you’d bake me some?”

He nodded, “Sure.”

“But what if I wanted some for Christmas?”

“I can bake you more, along with some other treats I’ll be testing for the holidays.”

“And what if I wanted some next semester?”

Heeseung chuckled, “I’d make you barely enough; that way, you have to keep asking me. There. Satisfied that you exposed my ploy?”

You stared at him, feeling overwhelmed. The time you thought would come to an end with him wasn’t as concerning of an issue as you had thought all along. Whether or not Heeseung thought that to be obvious to you both, you weren’t planning on taking his words for granted. 

He gestured at the remaining macaron half he held, but you ignored it and slid into his lap, nestling against his firm bulge. He groaned softly but welcomed you, his free hand squeezing your bare thigh as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. 

“And will we still be friends by then?”

“No,” His eyes shone with knowing, “No, I don’t think so.”

You inhaled deeply, “How about next week?”

He slowly shook his head and found himself staring at your lips.

You tilted his chin up so he’d meet your eyes. “And what about now?”

A bashful smile spread across his face, and he brushed the macaron against your lips, ”You tell me….”

Gently, you took the piece into your mouth, brushing your glossy lips against his fingertips, succeeding in stealing his breath away. 

You held his hand between yours and took your time to suck the pads of his thumb, then index finger into your mouth as your voice dropped to a whisper, “You’re mine.”

And the look in his eyes said he knew it. 

The air around you two dampened with lust. 

“I missed you,” Heeseung wet his lips and thumbed at your own, “Let me taste, please?”

While still seated in Heeseung’s lap, you leaned back against the table, his hands settling on your soft thighs as you reached off to the side for another treat. You split the macaron in half so you could gather the white filling with a lick, then stick out your tongue past your lips. You stayed relaxed against the table, legs hanging on either side of his lap, and beckoned him with your finger. 

In a blink of an eye, Heeseung was leaning over you to pull you against his chest and taste every inch of your mouth he could reach. The kiss was ravenous and sugary sweet, with way too much tongue; everything you could’ve wanted after spending a few days apart. 

“Mm,” you moaned against his lips when his palm slid over the side of your neck to hold you in place. 

You knew he was just bursting at the seams of his pants. After all, he never got the satisfaction of finishing like you had, and now it was your turn to play with him. 

The kisses quickly evolved into eager smacks and dips of his warm tongue against yours, your shenanigans to blame. You broke the kiss after a particularly sloppy caress and watched thick strands of saliva dribble down his chin. 

“A-ah…”

You eyed the cherry red stains of your lipstick on Heeseung’s lips and lapped up the strands with several hot strokes, earning a whimper from him. Obsessed with the sounds he just made, you messily reconnected your lips with his and pulled back again, catching strands of his saliva with a flick of your tongue.

He moaned deeply, brows knit together, his eyes glazed over and pleading. At this point, his glasses had been slightly knocked askew on his nose, and you chuckled at the dreamy look in his eyes.

Heeseung was panting deeply, his nipples standing hard underneath his shirt; the boy looked like he wanted to be devoured by you.

“You like it sloppy, huh, baby?”

“Yes—,” His hips bucked excitedly against yours, but you could tell he was trying to control himself.

“I’ve always thought your ears are so cute,” You whispered hotly against his skin, making them grow a shade darker of blush, “You don’t mind if I suck on them a bit, do you?”

Heeseung’s eyes widened behind his crooked glasses, ”No….”

“You clean ‘em, right?” You teased, sweeping your nail up the fluttering pulse at his neck.

Heeseung pouted, “Yes, every day—“

“I know, cutie,” You adjusted his glasses and traced the curve of his ear with your tongue, holding him in place by his jaw.

He gasped at the sensation and shut his eyes to really enjoy the way you were toying with him. When your teeth began to tug against the tip of his ear, he bit back a small groan, making you smile against his skin. 

You soothed your assault with several laps of your tongue before moving to suckle at his ear lobe and grind down on his hard-on.

“Oh god…” Heeseung’s eyes fluttered, and with desperate hands, he clung to your waist, barely hanging on by a thread. He twitched beneath you; enduring your teasing was as torturous for him as it was gratifying for you.

You released his sensitive earlobe with a smack and then slowly dipped your hot tongue into his ear, in and out, pressing deeper each time. You felt Heeseung’s jaw loosen in your grip, his mixture of pants and moans growing heavy as he nearly went limp under you. 

“Ah… fuck…” Heeseung drawled. He could barely stand hearing such lewd sounds— could feel himself leaking and hard in his jeans as you turned his brain to mush. 

“You like it when I fuck your ear, don’t you?”

Heeseung moaned incoherently, and you moved just beneath his ear to nip and kiss his neck harshly. 

“Look at me, Heeseung.”

When he turned to you, he looked completely out of it. It was apparent that the sweet thing needed a break from his studies to let his mind go completely blank, only to be filled with the most manic thoughts of you.  

“Kiss me properly like a good boy.”

He obeyed you, gingerly taking your face in his hands and capturing your lips with care. The shared moment gave you both time to breathe and remember where you were, in each other's arms, completely focused on pleasing the other. 

And you wanted more of him, so much more. 

“Can't stop thinking about you whether I’m awake or asleep,” Heeseung whispered, “Can’t stop touching myself.”

Shit. 

Your brain conjured up images of Heeseung palming himself in the same bed you had slept in while you had been fast asleep, experiencing a wet dream. Even in his shower, since that was a probability…

“Yeah, baby? Messing around like we did tends to alter your brain chemistry for a bit, y’know?” The skeptic in you teased. 

Heeseung placed a kiss under your jaw but scolded you, “Don’t be like that. I’ve wanted to share that with you for weeks.”

“Oh,” Despite blushing wildly, you answered coolly, “You sure like to take your time, then.”

“___…” Heeseung frowned at your seemingly nonchalant attitude.

“I’m just joking with you. I know you like to take your time and that you’re a man of action over words. I’ve come to love that about you, even though sometimes, it can drive me crazy,” You held his face in your hands and ran your fingers through his hair, before kissing him hard. 

He liked that a lot, you felt his cock jump so you rocked into him. 

Heeseung sulkily nudged his nose against the side of your neck, taking in your scent, “You do?”

“Yeah, I do. When you’re alone at night, all you need to do is call me, baby.”

He smiled this time, “I’ll definitely do that….”

You didn’t hesitate to connect your lips with his and let your tongue roam the deepest it had in his mouth, gently prodding at his throat to taste the rich flavor of buttercream against his tongue. When you tried to pull back, Heeseung retaliated and sucked on your tongue. 

“Mmm—”

His boldness spurred you on to hungrily press your lips against his once more, his taste intoxicating to you. Feeling your inhibition slip completely, your panties began to soak through onto his lap, clit pulsing from the heat of his body under yours. You dragged your hands up beneath his shirt and caressed your fingertips over his warm, firm chest, causing him to shiver in pleasure. 

He moaned when your fingers began to twist at his nipples, “I-I love it when you… play with me….”

“Yeah, baby, I can tell,” You regarded him with a curious smile before asking, “Do you like blowjobs?”

His eyes widened, but he slowly found himself nodding.

You giggled and tilted your head, “Not sure?”

He searched your eyes for judgement, “No, I’m— I’m, I mean, who wouldn’t? I’ve just never… gotten one before.”

I’m sorry— what?

The inevitable look of disbelief you gave him had him fidgeting in his chair, your hands coming to a still against his waist. 

Well, fuck his ex to hell and back. 

You shifted forward into his lap to press your breasts flush against his chest and caress his cheeks. “Well, I’d love to give you one. Would you like that?” 

“I’d love that, please,” He bit his lip, his gaze on you already unfocused. 

You were unable to help the giddy feeling in your chest as you kissed him and pressed the heel of your palm between his thighs.  

Heeseung ground up against your hand as you felt him up through his jeans before swiftly releasing him from their confines. The subtle curve of his flushed cock was more beautiful than you imagined, as were the pulsing veins lining the underside of his length. He was heavy in your hands and soaked to the touch in his arousal, much like you were between your thighs. 

“Oh, you must be aching. Been dying to taste you….”

“I’m not going anywhere this time,” With a shaky breath, Heeseung gathered the edge of his shirt in his grasp to reveal the sharp dips of his abdomen and the light trail of hair leading to his erection, watching as your lovely eyes turned dark.

“So thick, you’re unreal.…”

Slowly, you kneeled between his legs to cover his dripping cock in hungry kisses and played with his pre-cum on your tongue, immediately making him twitch and moan in want. You’ve been dying to reduce him to this mess of a state for the longest time. 

“Like it when I kiss you all over?”

“Yesss— haahn,” His words slurred when you took the head of his cock past your lips and sucked while swirling your tongue over his milky slit.

He was stunned at how your delicate hands worked at the rest of his length, jerking him with a firmness he wasn’t used to but definitely loved. Despite your touch feeling foreign, it felt different than his own in the best possible way. 

How would he last any longer than a minute? All of the sensations you were gracing him with were too much, too good.

“Your balls look so full, baby…” You could feel your mouth salivating as you tongued at his swollen tip. 

“Ohh—“

Out of the corner of Heeseung’s eye, a figure whizzed by the window to his right, and he froze. He only experienced a second of relief when he realized it was just the back of an oblivious student passing by, but he was brought back to reality by the fact that the two of you could be discovered.

While you were obviously aware of this from the start, you sensed the sudden discomfort through the line of tension in his body.

“We could get caught, you know….”

You pulled off of his cock, and smirked, your fingers tightening around his girth, “I’m sure you knew exactly what you were doing when you invited me here. If you’re so worried, then keep your voice down,” You raised an eyebrow at him, “You are a bit loud, sweetheart.”

Heeseung tugged on his lips between his teeth, feeling timid despite the truth. He tried to steady his breathing and swallowed thickly as he glanced out the window for any sign of movement, although the majority of people minded their own business in the library.

“Heeseung!” He heard a familiar voice call.

The face of his friend, Jake, peeked out from behind a bookshelf through the window pane of the study room.

His knee immediately slammed up against the table the moment he felt you mouth at his balls. Heeseung’s breath caught in his lungs, sneakers skidding against the floor as he braced himself against the table. The boy was barely able to process the sheer amount of pleasure from the warm, tight suction of your wet lips around him.

He just wanted to melt to the floor. 

“Fuck—“

In a panic, Heeseung barely managed to swallow a groan of pleasure when his friend shot him a look of concern through the window. From this angle, you weren’t visible from under the table, but Heeseung was sure he appeared oddly curled over his laptop, hands sprawled across the surface of his books and papers.

“You good man?” Jake slowly began to approach the door to the study room.

You heard Rin’s muffled voice, “Have you seen ___? She won’t pick up her phone.”

“I’m okay!” He insisted with a grunt, “Sorry, I haven't! Wait, no— Don’t come in, I just really need to focus right now,” Heeseung raised his voice slightly so they could hear him clearly through the glass.

You ran your tongue across the tender ridge between his balls before humming sweetly against his skin. Pre-cum bubbled at his slit and poured down his length onto your fingers, so you cruelly jerked his cock even quicker than before. 

Heeseung pressed his fist against his lips to stifle a moan, trying to play it off as a cough before waving goodbye in Jake and Rin’s direction, hoping the two would get the hint.

Jake chuckled and shook his head, “Oh, alright then. See you at work!”

“See you, Heeseung. If you see her, tell her to stop ignoring me, she owes me dinner,” Rin winked. 

“I— I will,” He did his best to plaster a smile on his face until your friends disappeared around the corner.

Once they left, you heard a sound of frustration rumble throughout Heeseung’s chest as he pushed away from the table to stare down at you with his hand covering his lips. His eyes nearly started to brim with tears behind his glasses as he watched you slurp around his swollen balls and then suck them tightly into your mouth. 

You noticed his conflicted expression and cooed at him, “Does it feel that good, baby?” Then you were back to hollowing your cheeks around him. 

More profanities spilled from his lips. 

Knowing he was lucky to be sitting instead of standing, he let his knees fall open, his joints completely weak with pleasure. His reasoning skills were non-existent, but it registered in his mind that the girl he fantasized about day and night was so willingly stuffing her mouth with his filthy cock and balls. He could hardly believe it. 

Admittedly, you were impressed at the pretense he managed to keep up in a moment of crisis, and as a reward for his self-control, you gave his balls one last harsh suck, then let them drop from your lips, “You did such a good job holding out there….”

Saliva pooled in your mouth before you spat along his length and continued to pump him at a messy pace, working your spit into the tip of his slippery cock. You rubbed your lips along his sensitive skin, planting open-mouthed kisses and teasing him with a view he was guaranteed to be daydreaming about for a while. 

“___, please,” Heeseung begged for you and started playing with his nipples over his shirt— your baby just couldn’t keep still. 

So fucking cute. 

You gripped his base and let the tip of his cock slip against the soft palate of your mouth, then nearly all the way to the back of your throat with a gag.

“F-fuck— Ngh!”

The action jarred him immensely, and he looked absolutely fucked out with his glasses falling off his face, his hot breath fogging up the lenses. God, it stirred something deep and primal inside you to know you were able to bring him to such a vulnerable state.

You just adored this side of him, and could feel your panties sticking against your lower lips as slick dripped down your thighs. The soreness in your knees hardly registered while you began to thrust your hips, longing for friction even just from your panties; your swollen pussy throbbed incessantly. 

The pace of your relentless bobbing quickened as you choked around his cock, unexpected tears stinging your eyes from how deep you were taking him. You let them spill down your cheeks, only wishing you could take him even deeper somehow, wanting his cock kissing and rubbing against your insides while he took you. The tell tale sensation of your clit twitching was the only warning your body gave you before you were overrun by an orgasm you couldn’t have anticipated. 

With a muffled sob, your pussy fluttered then began clenching around nothing in deep contractions that rocked you to your core, clit begging for more stimulation as you somehow came untouched just from the mere thought of getting pummeled by Heeseung.

One hand remained curled around his cock while you shoved the other between your thighs to work rapid circles over your panties— and then you were coming even harder, spurts of cum creating a messy puddle at your knees. 

He felt your uncontrollable moans shoot up his cock and was unable to escape from their encompassing vibrations. 

“Fuck—!” The curse was drawn out, and gruff— full of desperation.

Despite how incredibly tensed up Heeseung was, his palms brushed atop your head as he threaded his trembling fingers through your hair, attempting to nudge you off of him. His whole body was trembling, but you wouldn’t let him, even as he shook his head, calling your name in a wrecked voice. 

Unadulterated pleasure allowed you to ignore the discomfort and swallow around him as deeply as you could; he broke at the sensation of you choking around him. 

Heeseung’s head lolled back in complete silence when he was left with no choice but to let himself go. His bare hips shot up from his seat against your face and made your throat convulse, rendering himself an absolute wreck under your touch.

You kept him suspended in pleasure for as long as you could, spit and cum spilling from the corners of your lips— even when he finished and fell limp on the chair, you licked him clean, suckling on his sensitive tip to the point where he was whimpering.

His incomparable taste only made you wetter, and your knees gave out as you collapsed on the floor. You rested your cheek against his thigh as you proudly played with his thick, musky cum on your tongue, exploring the texture. It tasted equally addictive. 

“___,” Heeseung was blushing as he took your jaw in his hand, his thumb pressing into your lips, “You’re crazy. Spit that out….”

“What? No,” You frowned, “Where?”

Heeseung scanned the room in a panic for a non-existent trash can before he cupped his palms together, and held his hands up to your lips.

You nearly choked on his cum from laughter. However, you sat back and spread your legs to reveal your ruined panties glossed over with your release.

“You—“ Heeseung gasped as you pulled back the fabric from your skin to show off the way your pretty pussy glistened for him.

He didn’t want to believe his eyes when he witnessed his cum dribble from your pink tongue onto your skin like a sweet glaze. Prayed they were playing tricks on him when you clenched the second it hit and how you smeared it through your folds as you twitched and pleasured yourself for an intimate moment before licking his cum off your lithe fingers…

“You taste so yummy.” 

And how dare you look at him with those eyes.

Heeseung snapped and was already hauling you to your feet; you just ensured there was no way you were leaving this room without getting fucked. 

Now there wasn’t a single bone in him that cared if a library staff passed by and threatened to throw the two of you out. He would take his time finishing you off with them standing there, and then carry your limp body out of the building if he had to. 

He’s never felt more deranged in his entire life, and that was a testament to you. 

“That’s fucking dirty,” Heeseung gripped at your hips and held onto your skirt as he pushed you up against the wall, towering over you. 

“No, baby,” You pulled him down against your lips and he melted into it regardless, “Not if it’s you.”

You sneaked your fingers over his spent cock, but he shoved your hand away. With a laugh, you allowed him to press his knee between your damp thighs and squirmed against him, “You’re getting hard again, Hee.”

The pleats of your skirt gathered in his grasp as he squeezed your ass hard enough to make you yelp. “Who liked sucking my cock so much that they squirted in their panties?”

“T-that was definitely a first time for me, too,” You grinned up at him as he worked on rolling your skirt high on your waist.

“You know what you just did tells me?”

He groped at the front of your breasts and kneaded them greedily over your sweatshirt, drawing heavy moans from your lips as your nipples remained hard under his hands. 

“No bra,” He muttered under his breath.

It felt like your body was overheating again, “What— What does it tell you?”

The way Heeseung dragged his lips over your pulse, and gradually marked your skin with continuous suckles weakened your knees. 

Your eyes shut tight from the overwhelming desire dripping from his voice, breath hot against your skin, “It tells me you’re a sweet little slut for my cum.”

“Ah, a cum slut,” You panted, “Says the one who couldn’t stop tasting me the other day. If anyone’s a slut for cum, it’s you, baby.”

‘Baby.’

Ever since you started to call him the term of endearment, he felt sick to his stomach and imagined himself doing one other thing besides kissing you senseless—

Heeseung fell to his knees, not once taking his eyes off you. It felt like the right place to be, it always had from the start. 

You stopped breathing altogether when Heeseung removed his glasses and haphazardly slid them to the side on the floor. His half-lidded, hungry eyes bore into yours. 

Even though all signs indicated you were in a dangerous spot with him, you continued, “You’re the one on your knees, ‘boutta—“

He gripped your thighs and licked a thick stripe against the soaked fabric of your swollen mound. 

Oh god.

Your fingers curled into his messy locks to steady yourself. 

“Arms behind your back. Keep them there until I’m done cleaning up this filthy pussy.”

You hesitated, “But—“

Heeseung slapped the back of your thigh so he could strip you out of your soiled panties. He gave you a look that had you swallowing your complaint. 

Quietly, you locked your arms behind your back and leaned against the wall, although your expression was far from delighted, likely because you were just coming off of your high from being in control. 

“___,” He spoke softly, “If it gets too much, you know you can tell me to stop at any time, right?”

“I know, and trust me, I will.”

“I want you to choose a safe word for today.”

“Ah,” You felt your cheeks flush, that was the first time anyone’s ever asked you that. “Buttercream…?”

His eyes creased in amusement. “Perfect. I should’ve guessed.”

Heeseung dragged his middle finger between your folds and watched a mixture of your fresh arousal and his cum string along his fingers; it gave away how much you were enjoying this. He licked the mess off his digit and splayed his hands over your tummy, feeling the warmth of your supple skin under your skirt. 

“See!” You accused him. 

“Behave,” He nipped at your inner thigh, “I’d hate to have to punish you again.”

“I’m sure you would— Aahn—“ The delicate kiss he planted on your clit had you pressing your mound against his face. 

He might’ve been rough with you to start, but he knew you were sensitive from your orgasm. His hands pushed and pulled at your flesh, but his lips were tender on your pussy. He made you so wet when he laved his tongue against your clit and littered kisses over it, you could hardly help yourself from dribbling onto his chin. 

“Oh, Heeseung….”

He hummed in satisfaction against your pussy when you moaned his name so sweetly. 

Tension was ever present in your body, and sweat trickled down between your breasts at the effort of standing over Heeseung, enduring his torture when all you wanted to do was collapse on him. 

The lapping of his tongue grew more insistent between your folds as he tasted the mess of himself there, as he tasted you.  

“Hmnh— Aah!”

“Stay still. You’re not clean yet,” Heeseung pinned your hips against the wall and plunged his tongue into your slit to collect your arousal. It was impossible not to rock against his pretty face whenever his nose nudged your engorged clit.

Once his lips enveloped the nub, your vision blurred, and your knees shook as you tensed up, drawing to the tips of your toes while you fought to stay standing. 

“Heeseung… Heeseung— Hee, I can’t!”

Just as your legs gave out and your back slid down the wall, Heeseung broke your fall and caught you in a heap on his lap. 

“Heeseung,” You let out a frustrated whine against his neck.

Since you lacked the strength to stay right side up, your orgasm was ripped from you, and Heeseung stopped pleasuring you right before you were able to reach your high. 

He gripped you by your thighs to lift you into his arms and stood up. You heard the shuffling of papers and textbooks dropping to the floor as Heeseung shoved them out of the way and laid you on top of the table. 

“Poor baby couldn’t stay still. You know what happens now, right?”

Your surroundings melted away, and when your vision finally focused, all you could see was Heeseung hovering over you, caging you in below him. With your arousal covering his swollen lips and sweat dampening his hair, he looked like a complete wreck and genuinely the wildest you’ve ever seen him.

The lethal look in his eyes took you back to that night you said goodbye to him in front of the bus stop, but even then, they held only a fraction of the intensity compared to now. 

You tried to gather yourself before speaking up but found it difficult to catch your breath. 

“I’ll— I’ll be a good little slut for you,” Even though you felt fear, your words still had bite to them, “Is that what you want to hear?”

You weren’t sure what possessed you at that moment to give Heeseung a hard time, but you liked the surprised reaction you got out of him; it felt fair after he edged you the way he did. 

“On second thought, why don’t I just—“ You dared to sink two fingers into your pussy and began pumping in and out of yourself. Rolling your neck to the side, you moaned softly at the intrusion. 

Heeseung grabbed your wrist and yanked your fingers out of you. It was challenging to put up a fight when he slammed your hands back onto the table and held your arms above you, “Quit being a brat.”

You felt him reach for something on the table but realized it was the thin ribbon when he tied it tightly around your wrist in a knot. 

“Is your cock that needy for me?”

“If we’re gonna talk about needy,” You felt Heeseung’s warm breath against your ear as he curled his fingers into you, “Let’s talk about this tight little cunt.”

Heeseung, you bad boy. 

He was much, much dirtier and meaner than you gave him credit for. He caught on easily to what you liked, when you wanted it, and enjoyed it all the while.

You arched your back off the table. “Mmn— You hate being so sweet, don’t you?”

With one hand holding your trembling thigh open, Heeseung leaned down and spat against your clit. You gasped as your body jolted, head falling back against the table with a thump. You could feel it dribble down into your entrance as he added a third finger and moved faster inside of you, deeper. 

Heeseung watched intently as your chest rose and fell at an irregular rate, feeling you squeeze around his knuckles. 

“Fuck,” You licked at the corner of your lips and continued to mock him, “M-must hate being around such a needy girl like me who’ll use you for all your worth without a second thought—“

“Quiet,” He dug his fingers into the flesh of your cheeks, “Show me that tongue.”

You tilted your chin up and flashed your pink tongue at him without hesitation. That shameless expression of yours, paired with your dewy make-up, made his cock twitch heavily against the table as if you hadn’t just milked him dry. 

“You look like a real pretty mess, baby.”

Heeseung’s cock brushed against you as he leaned in close. With no effort, he spat harshly against your tongue, and the second his saliva hit, your mouth watered. Heeseung chuckled darkly, seeing that your eyes couldn’t have rolled further into your head.

“Yummy?”

You relished his saliva on your tongue and excitedly wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him against your core, “Fuck me.”

He pulled out his fingers and enjoyed the sweet taste of you on them, before kissing you mindlessly.

“That’s more like it, ___.” 

He tugged your ass to the edge of the table, then flipped you onto your stomach, forcing your feet to touch the floor. 

“I have a condom,” He mentioned, running his hand down your spine, and was prepared to reach for one.

“No, let me feel you. I’m on a pill,” You revealed.

Heeseung lazily swiped his fingers back and forth against your folds. “I see how it is….”

“Mm, god,” You pressed your cheek against the table and could hear the rustling of his jeans. 

“You can’t wait for me to fill you up with my hot cum, can you?”

“I can wait all day,” You lied through your teeth, “But clearly someone just likes to take their time— ah!”

You jerked against the table in surprise at the sharp slap of his palm over your ass. His eyes roved over the arch of your back and the curve of your ass appreciatively. 

“I’ll take all the time that I want. Now, be honest.”

Your nails dug into your bound hands; you wanted him inside you so badly. “Fuck….”

Another harsh slap landed against the same cheek.

“You wore this little skirt to show off this tight ass and perfect pussy,” Heeseung snapped his wrist, landing continuous small blows atop your skin that grew harder each time, causing your skin to turn red. “I can do this all night, and I don’t care who comes around that corner.”

He stopped to grip your ass cheeks and watch your flesh bulge over his fingers. Shortly after, Heeseung smacked your ass with the most force he’s used to date, and you couldn’t contain your broken moan. 

“You enjoy being what you are, and you know exactly what that is. Say it.”

Your lip began to sting from how tightly you were biting down on it to stifle your voice. He plunged his fingers back inside of you without warning, and you cried out, tensing around him in need, then he left you empty.

That felt so damn good.

Your plan to rile Heeseung up was indeed working, even though you weren’t sure where it’d lead the two of you. Even though you hadn’t ventured into such extreme dynamics in your sex life, with the way Heeseung submissively fell into step by your side earlier, you were burning to find out if you could take the heat. 

“You—You’re gonna have to make me,” You huffed.

Silence. Then more swishing of fabric.

Heeseung neatly gathered the ends of your hair and looped the strands around his hand until he was sinking his grip into your scalp. His bare chest pressed against your back, and at the same time, his rumbly voice tickled your ear. 

“If we were back at my place, I’d make you do all sorts of things…” The promise in his voice caused your skin to break out in goosebumps, “… But making you admit something as simple as that can certainly be done right now.”

The swollen tip of his cock pressed against your entrance, and there was hardly time to brace yourself when Heeseung eased into you at a begrudgingly slow pace. As he fed his raw cock into you, your walls contracted deliciously around his wide girth.

“Ah!”

“Easy, let me in,” He urged, thrusting in and out of you at a rather sweet tempo; he had yet to bottom out. “How else is my little slut going to get her daily dose of cum?”

A gush of your arousal soaked his length and trickled down your thighs as Heeseung worked you open. 

“So wet but so tight. Maybe I should just—“

He slammed the remaining way in, and pushed you up further onto the table. His hand sank into your hip, so you stayed right where he wanted you. 

“Oh, god!” 

Before you could fully adjust, he began to piston his hips into yours at a ruthless pace that made you drool uncontrollably. You tried to hide your moans, but Heeseung’s hold on your hair made you struggle to steady yourself on your forearms if you didn’t want it to be painful.

Intent on making you work a little, Heeseung guided you to curl up higher onto your elbows and eventually your palms with the slight tug of his fist. Sweat gathered at your temple from the effort of stabilizing yourself. 

His other hand moved from your hip to caress your bouncing tits under your sweatshirt, then smooth over your throat so he could bend you back even further and look you in the eye. 

That was when you realized he was going easy on you. Even with the unceasing thrusts of his cock, you could see him take a moment to tentatively check up on your state of being, and your heart swelled. 

“How’s that feel, baby?” Heeseung swiped at the drool beading along your lips, and you saw him note the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes.  

“So good, I can feel you so, so deep… I can take more,” You insisted. 

The clapping of his hips against your ass began to slow significantly, causing you to draw in a deep, painful breath. 

No, no, no—

“But, I thought you said you’re not my cum slut?” He released your hair as he straightened up, leaving you longing for his warmth against your back. “I just remembered, you’re not my little whore….”

So cruel.

He could feel your pussy fighting to keep him inside, but only his angry red tip remained as you tried to push back against him.

“No, don’t stop!” You begged, “I’m your… your….”

“You’re my what?”

Tears of frustration finally spilled down your cheeks which were burning from embarrassment as you helplessly stared at the blurry wall of the study room. “I’m your fucking cum slut. I’m— I’m your whore—“

You felt his strong hands wrap around your waist and arm to tug you up to sitting. He slid your bound hands over his head so you could cling to his neck as he pressed close to your tear-stained face. 

“Mm,” Heeseung soothed you, kissing your tears away, “And you’re so, so precious to me. You’re all mine, baby— Isn’t that right?”

“Mhm,” You hiccuped against his lips as his thumbs kneaded your puffy nipples, feeling like you were in a roller coaster of a dream.

There wasn’t a gleam of light in his eyes, yet you felt their heat consuming you. It felt natural to be held by him like this, with your sweaty chests pressed together and your ankles hooked at his lower back, breathing each other’s air. 

It never felt like this before, for you.

Heeseung filled you to the brim with his cock once more, “Good girl.”

The mere stretch of his girth had you clenching erratically, and likewise, you had him on the verge of coming a second time which was a feat in itself. Each quick drag of his cock along your walls was a solace; it made his balls spasm, and he found his thrusts growing more chaotic by the second. To be able to feel you uninhibited like this was a pleasure he couldn’t have fathomed, ever. 

“Bet you can’t even imagine how good you’re making my cock feel right now—“

Heeseung was so big, and never even came close to slipping out of you when he’d swiftly wind his hips up only to slam back in. Since his cock made you feel as if you’d burst, his tip kissed the deepest parts of your insides and made you feel completely inundated by his obsession to ruin you.

“Think you’re gonna be able to walk up in front of the class without looking like you got fucked every which way?”

You shook your head vigorously. He loved the way you tugged the damp hair at his nape harshly as a warning and could tell his words were getting to you. 

“I know, baby.”

“H-Heeseung—” You felt your tummy start to tense up, and your clit throb madly, “Ah-aah—”

“That’s it, beautiful—“

There was no need to say a word beyond his name, Heeseung knew you were ready. His deft fingers stroked your sensitive clit with precision, and he watched you come undone on his cock with rapt attention, like the most fascinating visual treat was unfolding before him. 

You were so entrenched in pleasure that you couldn’t utter a single word; white blinded your vision as your head fell back, and you felt Heeseung secure you as you seized around him, toes curling in your sneakers. 

With a yank, the collar of your sweatshirt slipped over your shoulder, and you felt him sink his teeth into the side of your neck— swore you heard a deep growl rip from his throat across your skin. It didn’t hurt at all, it just made you feel so weak. 

Heeseung knew he could count on you going utterly limp, and he stuffed you silly with his cock until his creamy cum spilled and sweetened your insides. His own limbs threatened to give out from the force of his release, but he braced himself over you with heavy pants until you tugged him down, wanting to feel his comforting weight on you. 

He groaned but cherished your embrace and swallowed your pleased sighs with a kiss that made it known you were loved. Heeseung licked over your bruised, glistening skin and murmured your name. 

“I’m really proud of you, baby, I know that was a lot. How do you feel?”

A single groan was your only response as you kept your eyes shut tight from pure exhaustion and bliss. 

“___.” Heeseung insisted on hearing your voice. 

“I’m fantastic…” That earned you a smile from him. 

Satisfied, Heeseung removed your clenched fists from around his neck and held your wrists in place to snap a taut portion of the ribbon with his teeth. The release of pressure was a relief; your skin had subtle marks from the ribbon that would disappear within an hour, but Heeseung rubbed gently at the slight indents while looking you over. 

“I’m not crazy,” Somehow you opened your eyes a smidge, head still pounding with dull pleasure, “You’re crazy.”

He kissed over your wrists and flushed knuckles. “Too crazy…?”

“No. No, I loved it. All of it,” You reassured him, already anticipating aches and pains.

“Was there anywhere I went overboard? You can always tell me, even if you think of something later.”

Heeseung pulled out slowly, and you watched as his warm cum oozed out of your entrance, pooling onto the table by your ass. He wore a teasing smile as he made sure to spread his cum over your pussy and then give it a light slap. 

You shuddered at the sensation. If he wasn’t careful, he’d definitely turn you on again.

“Oh my god. Um, uh…”

You were able to breathe easy when he returned to cleaning you up as gently as possible with a pack of wipes he unearthed from his bag.

“I really liked it all. It’s fun putting up a fight when you boss me around,” He snorted when you playfully tapped under his chin, “I guess you could always stand to be a little meaner to me, Hee.”

“Really? We’ll have to chat about that then,” He proposed.

“Sure… Mm,” You twitched as he dabbed a fresh wipe between your sticky thighs. Heeseung noticed and squeezed your thigh comfortingly.

“Don’t bother trying to move for the next five minutes. I’ll clean up here, then let’s get you something to eat.”

“Okay. Don’t you have work?” While you rearranged your clothing, you glanced out the window overlooking the campus and couldn’t believe the sun had already set. At least a couple of hours must’ve passed. 

Heeseung scurried about the room to gather his shirt and the abused textbooks he’d discarded in the heat of the moment.

“I took today and tomorrow off for finals. I’m all yours.”

Heeseung knew exactly what to say to make your face warm.  

You reached for a macaron off to the side and licked at the filling as your legs dangled over the edge of the tabletop. “Then can we pick up Thai and eat at your place? You still owe me some feedback on my project.”

“Yes. We can do anything you’d like.”

“Can I shower with you and sleep over again?”

Heeseung paused in his tracks and flashed you a knowing smile, “I’d like that a lot.”

You swiped his sweaty bangs away from his brown eyes that somehow still had a touch of naïveté in them and kissed him with a mouthful of buttercream. After several seconds, the books slipped from his grasp onto the floor, but neither of you flinched.

The two of you parted only to stare at each other in heat until you traced at his lower lip and he licked at the tips of your delicate fingers, placing kisses on each one— an ardent expression of devotion blended with desire.

All that you’ve ever wanted.

“Wouldn’t you, baby?”

—

A/N CONT.

Waaah, I loved writing this fic so much, almost as much as I love Heeseung. Please like, reblog or leave feedback if you enjoyed! Comments are always greatly appreciated 💗

For Hee’s characterization, I wanted to capture the different facets of what I think makes him loveable, and I adore how he came to life here. I reworked this fic a lot until I was satisfied. About 5 months has passed since I started working on this, and since then I’ve been working on my career, questioned my life choices because of it, wanted to give up in general, turned 24 (HELP), slept way too much, saw Enha 3x and got a flying kiss from Hee! 😵‍💫

Maybe I’ll share some concert photos bc he’s fucking stunning (they all are) and they put on a sublime performance through and through.

Anyways, I’m still figuring out life like the rest of you are. Woo.

Even though I write fiction and smut for fun, I wanted to make sure this was still a quality read with hopes to inspire more people to write about what fulfills them first and foremost. Before I abruptly left for a while, I felt a weird pressure from this site to perform and it hampered my creativity, making me super self-conscious. I think a lot of people can relate. I don’t want to sweat it though, because that can take the fun out of things.

Thus, any future fic posts will be like today’s; less frequent and more intentional when I’m ready. If you don’t mind that, feel free to stick around for the ride (a lot of you already do understand and I’m grateful). I’ll probably lurk a bit more here again since I’ve always liked Tumblr more than any other platform, you guys are my preferred deranged people heheh.

I did write NIIY so that I can continue Hee’s + MC’s story if I ever wanted to. If you followed me over half a year ago, then you know I lost all my fic drafts. Well, by a fucking miracle, I managed to recover everything just last week from my deleted google drive which is a MAJOR WIN. There’s a pretty obvious hint about what one of my next AU fics might be which was in my old drafts, but I’ll give more of an update of future fics when they’re closer to being finished which is likely months out.

If you ever want writing advice or just wanna talk Enha/recc fics feel free to tag or message me. 🙂⚰️

— P.

[thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai]

On not getting eros

I’ve discussed Yuuri not getting eros multiple times, but I never explained what that actually means because this subject seems to be a sensitive and controversial one either way. Yet, it's also an important one for a number of reasons I will come back to later.

First: What is eros? - a very short trip back in time

YOI explains eros as “sexual love”, matching the Ancient Greek definition as “sensual or passionate love” from which the term “erotic” is derived. Classical philosophers described eros as a “madness from the gods” that befalls people at the sight of another person with disastrous results (e.g. the story of Paris and Helena). In YOI, this “madness” equates to “what causes you to lose the ability to make normal decisions”.

(The definition of eros varied a lot over the centuries. Plato defined eros as a general concept of passion that excludes physical attraction and argued that it can be utilised to pursue intellectual interests. Freud insisted that eros is not to be confused with libido, and the Catholic Church’s definition had a huge influence on more modern definitions and not for the better.)

What the ancient Greeks called eros is nowadays known as sexual attraction. Classical philosophers probably didn’t make the distinction towards romantic attraction since the two are often conflated. However, “madness from the gods” describes a primal instinct that the majority of humans experiences starting from when the body begins to produce sex hormones during puberty.

What this implies for Yuuri

As an adult male of 23, Yuuri is long past puberty. Thus, one would expect him to understand eros on an intuitive level. However, what makes him lose the ability to make normal decisions is not the sight of another human being, not even his celebrity crush parading in front of him like a Greek god—no, it's his favourite food. And there’s only one explanation why that is:

So far, Yuuri has not experienced sexual attraction.

No anxiety disorder, no feelings of inadequacy, no lack of self-esteem, and certainly not an alleged ability to restrain himself can explain this absolute cluelessness about a basic human instinct. It cannot explain why Yuuri is immune to the sight of naked Viktor, i.e. why that doesn't make him want to bent Viktor over the edge of the hot spring and do unspeakable things to him. And this brings us to the subject of the discussion:

Yuuri is on the asexual spectrum.

Where on that spectrum he could be, I'm going to discuss in a minute.

Yuuri is well aware that at his age the general populace is able to express eros and that by extension, he is excpected to and should be able to express it, too. In his first attempt at tackling eros, he uses his favourite food as a workaround, but if he had no particular food cravings, literally anything he’s passionate about would work as well (it took me ages to figure that out myself because, personally, I rather roll with Plato than food metaphors). Yuuri keenly feels that katsudon isn’t it, though. He thus changes the protagonist of the story he made up for his SP because he relates to the woman’s situation more than to the playboy, which works fairly well because it reflects his fears about Viktor leaving and his desire to keep Viktor for himself (see this meta). However, it takes him until episode 6 to find his eros, and this eros is a very possessive and commanding one (see this meta). Essentially, episode 6 is about Yuuri learning that he is indeed capable of seducing Viktor with his skating and this ability comes with a certain power that is reflected in his scores.

That Yuuri is aspec is essential for the plot of Yuri!!! on Ice to work.

Which asexual microlabels are compatible with canon Yuuri?

Aside from a few subtle hints, this is pretty much open to interpretation. The tie-grab in episode 8 and the strong sexual tension in that scene suggest that Yuuri and Viktor did it by now, which narrows the list down to demisexual, greysexual, or sex-favourable ace.

A demisexual Yuuri would experience sexual attraction once he has formed a close bond with another person or got to know them intimately enough. Before Viktor, Yuuri struggled to form close relationships of any kind; Viktor is the first he wants to form a bond with and whom he lets into his heart. In this context, Yuuri's SP in episode 6 could be interpreted as the very first time Yuuri experiences sexual attraction.

A greysexual Yuuri would be capable of experiencing sexual attraction sometimes and in certain situations, but again, the point when Yuuri perfects his SP defines the earliest instant at which he would experience sexual attraction for the first time. For example, it could mean that Yuuri only feels sexual attraction when he's in his Eros role.

Personally, I have a hard time picturing Yuuri as lusting after Viktor's body at any time. His performances of Eros rather seem outbursts of sensuality than an overall change in how he feels about Viktor in this aspect of their relationship. To me, Yuuri's Eros has the nature of a kink rather than the experience of sexual attraction. Yuuri's Eros is possessive, wants Viktor for himself, and demands of Viktor to watch him to drive him insane. Yuuri's Eros is dominant. I thus see Yuuri as a sex-favourable ace with one kink (at least!), which he has learned to use very well during his explorations of Eros.

Yuuri doesn't need to experience sexual attraction to sleep with someone else. Wanting physical closeness and sharing pleasure are very valid reasons.

Le tue mani, le tue gambe, le mie mani, le mie gambe, i battiti del cuore si fondono tra loro. Your hands, your legs, my hands, my legs and the heartbeats are fusing together.

Physical closeness as expressed through "Stay by my side" is a leitmotif in Yuri!!! On Ice, played back and forth between Yuuri and Viktor throughout the show. The lyrics of Stammi Vicino go even beyond that and describe a unification on a physical and on a mental level, implying an intimacy that can't be explained alone by Yuuri and Viktor being a couple and skating this routine together.

If you want your version of Yuuri to be canon-compliant, you can't go wrong with either flavour of aceness, including those I didn't discuss in this because they seem less likely to me. If you came to the conclusion that a sex-repulsed kinky Yuuri would work just as well, my answer to you would be that canon Viktor would be happy with everything his Yuuri is willing to give. If there's a fictional couple who would make a relationship in which one partner in sex-repulsed and the other is allosexual work, it would be viktuuri.

Next some questions I wish someone had explained to me in this context:

Q&A: But why does Yuuri...?

dry-hump Viktor at the Sochi banquet: If the amount of clothes Yuuri wears gives away the timeline of the event, he danced with Viktor before he went off to the pole with Chris. Some of this dancing was quite physically and that can be totally enough to cause arousal. Add an unholy amount of alcohol to this and you have Yuuri rubbing his genitals at his idol. (note that libido ≠ sexual attraction)

say that Viktor could impregnate everyone, including him: Being asexual doesn’t deprive you of the ability to identify sexiness in other people and understanding the meaning of “hot”. Viktor demonstrating Eros right in front of Yuuri would instantly put Yuuri into a massive swoon, and while it wouldn't make him horny and want to fuck Viktor, he would be be swept away because of how cool and amazing Viktor is.

hastily turns away when Viktor stretches in front of him in the bath: Well, that's an obvious reaction of discomfort. Not everyone would be happy to stare right at someone else's dick (unless you love dicks, obviously).

On a side note, I find it quite ironic that Morooka calls Yuuri “Japan’s ace skater” in the Blu-ray subs, but aside from the fact that things one character says about another should always be taken with a grain of salt, deriving a character’s sexuality from such wording is as far-fetched as deriving it from colour schemes, aesthetic attraction, or characters blushing at one another (and in YOI, they blush like all. the. time.). The YOI creators likely didn't intend an asexual reading of Yuuri, but the result is a nevertheless an unambiguously ace-coded Yuuri that is needed for the story of Yuri!!! on Ice to work in the way that it does.

Why this discussion is overdue

Good ace representation: Although it's not officially confirmed, Yuuri is a realistic representation of a queer label that is often overlooked and underrepresented in media. In addition to that, it's the only label that applies beyond a superficial impression.

Educational purposes: There are many harmful misconceptopns surrounding asexuality, and while this post doesn't aim at dispelling them, I hope it will make a little difference.

Spreading awareness: Because there is so little awareness about what it means to be asexual—even inside the queer community—the ace-coding is only obvious for people who have educated themselves on the subject. Unfortunately, this makes Yuuri being prone to being mischaracterised.

Helping people figure themselves out: Asexuality is a concept that is very hard to make sense of when you don't even know that you experience things differently. I've seen posts discussing ace-coded characters and they only confused the hell out of me. I hope that this post will be helpful to other people being unaware of or questioning their aceness.

For further reading about Yuuri and his endeavours to tackle eros, please check out these metas:

How skating to Eros despite not getting it showcases Yuuri's extreme bravery (episode 3): [X]

Yuuri finally finding the definition of eros that works for him (episode 6) [X]

The development of On Love: Eros throughout the series, including a discussion of the workarounds Yuuri uses: [X]

The romantic aspects of Yuuri's love life: [X]

My special thanks goes to cecebeanie for our countless discussions on the subject and patiently answering even my stupidest questions, for proofreading, and for encouraging me to write this post in the first place 💜💙

If you have any questions, feel free to contact me! My ask box and my DMs are always open!

If you like my metas, please check out my works on AO3.

Edit: While I was going through the reblogs of this post, I came across a lovely comment from someone who was a bit divided about whether Yuuri is overly sexual or asexual with a tendency towards the latter, and so I thought I'd provide some context for anyone else wondering about this:

In my experience, these two things aren't mutually exclusive. People with a strong libido or sex drive can be perceived as overly sexual, and that can apply to asexuals as well. Experiencing no sexual attraction doesn't determine whether someone has a low or high libido, nor does it determine whether someone enjoys having sex for whatever reasons. It's true that many asexuals don't ever want to have sex, but enough of us like it because we find it pleasurable, want to feel physcially close to our partner, engage in sex-related kinks etc. It's a spectrum after all. Personally, I think that Yuuri would enjoy sleeping with Viktor for all of these reasons once he's okay with allowing so much intimacy.

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Perhaps Eddie Munson was someone you could lean on--literally and figuratively. (4.7k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, anxiety, parental conflict, poverty, vandalism, so much yearning, an accidental boner, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter nine: rest for the weary

Destroyed.

That was the only thought fleeting through your mind when you approached Eisen’s shattered door, jagged edges like rows of shark teeth. Your hand faltered, stopping just before the knob, like the whole store would disintegrate at the slightest turn.

Eddie stepped aside and gently opened the door, the bell jingling mockingly, watching to ensure that no more glass fell from the panes. “Careful,” he murmured, fingers ghosting over the middle of your back for just a second while you stepped over the threshold. Goosebumps formed beneath your shirt at his unexpected touch, brief as it was. 

Your heart lurched once more as you entered the store, the normally meticulously organized shelves now coated in spray painted tags and profanities. A crudely drawn phallic symbol, complete with testicles and pubic hair, took up most of the front of the desk. The office door bore another one with a similar resemblance. 

You were definitely surprised by Eddie’s offer to help out at Eisen’s, but nothing compared to the blatant shock on Ben’s face when he saw who accompanied you to the store. Your friend’s jaw clenched instinctively, and you realized he must have thought you brought Eddie here to confess. 

“We came to help clean,” you quickly clarified, hoping Eddie didn’t sense the reasoning behind your explanation. 

Silent tension thickened between the two men, your words your sole weapon to tear into it. “What can we do?” You asked Ben, volunteering yourself and Eddie in hopes of derailing potential conflict.

Ben cleared his throat, eyes swooping over the store that was still very much in disarray. Glass shards glittered across the floor despite his previous claims to have swept up, though you imagined that it was difficult to see clearly through his cloud of exhaustion. When he didn’t answer, you grabbed a broom from beside the door. 

“I just got off the phone with the—” Aunt Tam walked in from the office, pausing mid-sentence when she spotted you. Her lips curled into whatever semblance of a smile she could muster as she shuffled over to wrap you in a hug. Her dark brown curls brushed your cheek. 

When she pulled back, you hardly recognized her. Besides the passage of time carving wrinkles into her forehead and the bridge of her nose, her skin was free of make-up. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw her without at least mascara coating her lashes. 

“We’re here to help with whatever you need.” You swallowed the lump in your throat at the sight of her bare face, the worry now permanently sealed into her eyes. 

At the mention of a we, Aunt Tam glanced at the man beside you. Tepidly, Eddie stepped forward and held out his hand to shake hers. “Eddie Munson,” he said, posture straightening as he braced himself for a reaction. But if Ben truly suspected that Eddie had vandalized the store, he hadn’t shared that theory with his mother, because she shook Eddie’s hand without hesitation. 

“Eddie can help remove the graffiti,” you offered, and Eddie nodded. 

“Just need some WD-40,” he added with a small smile. “Maybe some steel wool if it’s really stubborn.” 

Aunt Tam’s eyes lit up, taking your hand and giving it a squeeze that leaves your bones aching. “Thank you,” she said, her voice thick with emotion as she turned to face Eddie. “Thank you, Eddie.” She wiped at her nose with one shirt sleeve. “We should have all of that in the back, if you’ll follow me…”

Eddie nodded again, stuffing his hands in his pockets and trailing behind her. “Yes, ma’am.”

When you could be sure that both he and Aunt Tam were out of earshot, you shuffled over to Ben. “It wasn’t him,” you said under your breath. “He was at a concert that night, and even if he wasn’t—he wouldn’t do this.” You gestured at the destruction. 

Not fully convinced of Eddie’s innocence, Ben narrowed his eyes behind his glasses. “How do you know?”

“The first night he stayed at the motel, he was smoking pot in his room. And when I told him not to, he listened.” You thought back to that moment, to his smirk that had you wondering if he would light another joint as soon as you turned your back. “And even though I basically accused him of vandalizing Eisen’s—before I knew where he really was—he still brought my essay to school today.” 

Ben breathed out a defeated sigh. “Okay, fine,” he conceded, scratching at the back of his neck. “Is it bad that I wished it was him, so that we could stop worrying about whoever it was coming back and doing it again?”

You wrinkled your nose. “Kind of, yeah.” He scowled, playfulness stronger than any contempt, and you tapped the broomstick against his arm. “I’m guessing you didn’t share your theory with your parents?”

He shook his head. “My dad’s at the police station right now to see if any other shops caught the person on camera.”

“Yours didn’t?”

“Never installed any. Safe neighborhood, no need, y’know?” He rolled his eyes at his family’s naivety. “Seems like everyone else on the block felt the same way.”

You wanted to say more, to properly convey your sympathy, but your aunt and Eddie returned with the spray paint removal supplies. The broom suddenly became more interesting than ever before, your eyes glued to it as you brushed it against the floor. You didn't dare look at Eddie until he turned his back to you. 

“All right,” he murmured to himself, tossing a rag over his shoulder and placing his hands squarely on his hips. The paint cans that had been sprayed were a lost cause, the veins in his biceps pulsing as he grabbed two at a time and heaved them onto the floor with soft grunts. 

A teasing whisper tickled the shell of your ear. “Wipe your drool.” You could feel Ben’s smile as he spoke but didn’t have time to swat at him before he jogged over to help Eddie. 

You preventatively swiped at your chin, relieved that you weren’t actually drooling. And why would you be? Eddie was your friend; nothing more, and sometimes a whole lot less. The excitement you’d felt when he’d shown up with your paper this afternoon was relief, not some burgeoning crush. Your hope that he would visit the front desk during your shifts could easily be explained as an eagerness for conversation, the ultimate cure for boredom. And the way you felt your heart beating in your stomach when he’d held your hand earlier–

It was only because it had been a long time since anyone had reached for you with an intimate gesture, you told yourself, save for Nora briefly squeezing your hand just before Eddie had taken it. But there was no flutter with Nora. A surge of gratefulness, maybe, but nothing compared to what Eddie’s touch had evoked.

“Heiress?”

Your head swiveled towards the sound of your nickname being called. Eddie looked at you, puzzled and impatient. “You okay? I’ve called your name, like, fifty times.”

“Twice,” Ben said; the clarification could have been a reassurance that you hadn’t spaced out for that long, or just a belated dig at Eddie. Either way, you appreciated it.

“Do you have one of those hair tie things?” Eddie shook his hair, which was already frizzing from perspiration.

You nodded dumbly, fingers fumbling for the elastic shoved deep into the abyss of your purse. Had you been staring at him? Gawking, even, as you silently tried to sort out your feelings? 

“Thanks.” Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t draw your gaze from him as he tied back his mess of curls into a bun at the nape of his neck.

Sweep. Sweep, and stop thinking about how his stubble-coated jawline might feel beneath your lips.

This desire, this lust–it was all temporary. Fleeting. It would swiftly exit once the rush of exhilaration from his rescue fully wore off, and you would once again be content with a platonic friendship.

Your insides backflipped once more when Eddie rubbed the rag over the shelf, wiped away the graffiti, and flashed a million-watt smile in your direction. 

If you had your way, ‘moving on’ would happen sooner rather than later. 

Pristine wasn’t the right word to describe Eisen’s state when you finally left a few hours later, but the clean floor was a definite improvement. The graffiti was still visible on the shelves, but it had faded considerably with Eddie’s hard work. He stood next to Ben now, explaining how often to apply the WD-40 without ruining the finish. 

Were they friends? Not even close. But each had let down their guard an inch more, though you remained unclear of the reason why Eddie’s was up in the first place.

A weighty exhaustion reminded you that you were surviving on pure adrenaline that had been steadily waning and was nearly depleted. A gentle hand rested on your shoulder as you returned the broom to its corner. 

“Go home and rest,” Aunt Tam said kindly. “Ben told me you’ve been working nights and going to school. You need your sleep.”

“I know.” It was easier to agree than to argue, but the shop would be a mess if you had spent the afternoon sleeping. 

Your aunt cocked her head and assessed you; whether you were too tired to properly fib or just her mother’s intuition, she didn’t believe you. “Well,” she sighed, “I told your boyfriend to get you home—”

Heat crept up your neck as she gestured a thumb towards Eddie. “Eddie’s not my boyfriend.” 

Aunt Tam raised her eyebrows. “Oh, I just…he didn’t correct me earlier when I called you his girlfriend…and the looks you were giving each other…I figured…” She stopped, shaking off the notion as ridiculous. 

Because it is ridiculous, you thought. 

“We’re just friends.” That ‘just’ was cumbersome, like there was something inherently wrong with you and Eddie being friends. “We’re friends,” you amended, complete with a tired smile. 

She fixed her composure, swiping her brunette bangs from her line of vision. “Well, we can’t thank you and your friend enough.” 

She said that word like she knew something you didn’t. Worse, like you knew but refused to admit it. 

Grogginess slowed your usual fast pace, and you stepped into the subway car with only a second to spare. 

The adrenaline fully wore off once you sat down; the plastic subway seat might as well have been a plush mattress swathed in Egyptian cotton sheets. It wasn’t until you allowed yourself to sit back and breathe that the achiness crept in. Your lower back twinged; your shoulders and biceps remained tense from sweeping and scrubbing the shelves for so long. If you could feel your feet, they would probably hurt, too.

The yawn you let out stretched the skin on your face and brought reflexive tears to your eyes, and you wiped them away with the back of your hand. 

“Tired?” Eddie asked, the question warped by a heavy yawn of his own. 

You nodded, blinking a few times to keep your eyes open; your head felt like it could loll right off of your neck without warning. 

Eddie shifted slightly and patted his right shoulder with his left hand. “Rest.”

“S’okay,” you mumbled, heaviness tugging at your eyelids even as you spoke. Exhaustion had its grip on you, tight enough that you barely noticed your stomach fluttering at the thought of resting on him. “I’ll just pass out when we get home.”

But he took one look at you, at the fogginess that draped over your body like a weighted cloak, and promptly vetoed that idea. “Rest,” he said again; this time, his words held a commanding air. 

You clocked his concern, so unused to the way you ran yourself ragged until the kettle ran empty, until the match burned out. Another yawn escaped you, bringing a single hot tear with it, and any attempt to convince him that this was normal instantly became obsolete. 

Sparing yourself the argument, you laid your head atop his shoulder. His cotton t-shirt was soft against your ear, somewhat muffling the train’s clanking and other passengers’ conversations. As quiet as the subway could be at seven o’clock in the evening. 

“Our stop is—”

“I know.” The vibrations of his voice, your head so close to his throat, punctuated the reassurance. “You sleep, Heiress.”

The last thing you remembered was your grip loosening on the backpack strategically placed between your feet, your fingers unfurling from the strap as you succumbed to a dreamless sleep. 

A hand on your knee gently shook you awake just as the conductor’s muffled voice announced that the train was approaching Forest Hills, and you felt a yank on your consciousness that pulled you out of your seat and towards the open doors. 

“My backpack—” The icy panic that flooded your veins was enough to jar you awake. When you turned back, you saw that the train had already pulled away from the track. 

“Right here.” Eddie patted the bag now slung over his shoulder. Your heart rate returned to its normal beat as relief washed over your skin, a wave crashing into the surf at high tide. 

The station’s stale air covered you like a quilt, and the conductor had barely announced the grating reminder to stand clear of the closing doors before unconsciousness again hooked its claws into you. 

“There ya go,” Eddie whispered when you rested your head on his shoulder once more. “Comfy?”

“Mhm.” And you were–unnervingly so. You hadn’t been this relaxed in a long time; no moment in recent memory came to mind. The questions you desperately sought answers to–why he hesitated to tell you about the concert, why he let Aunt Tam believe that he was your boyfriend–seemed utterly inconsequential. 

You could vaguely feel Eddie fidgeting as you drifted in and out of consciousness, struggling to adjust his posture and avoid any unwarranted touch. 

Sleep transformed your body into that of a ragdoll, slumped over and limp, moving only as the train car swayed. Your limbs felt disconnected from your torso, which was why you barely registered the urgent grasp around your wrist. 

“Hmm?” You blinked awake, blurred vision sharpening to reveal Eddie’s hand holding yours. No, not holding it; he was moving it. Moving it away from the denim that creased along his inner thigh. 

“Shit, I—” Humiliation stole your words, stabbed at them with its forked tongue and left you scrambling for an explanation. “I didn’t mean to.”

Eddie’s own cheeks turned a rosy pink, as though his fingers had been accidentally creeping towards the inseam of your jeans. “No, I—I know,” he stammered, clocking the horror on your face and offering a sheepish smile. Your fingertips burned where he’d touched them, where you’d touched him.

There was no way you could sleep after that, your body far too alert despite the ever-increasing weight of your eyelids. You sat up straighter; as you did, Eddie placed your backpack on his lap. When you reached for it, he shook his head and pulled back slightly, and your brows furrowed at your misinterpretation.

“I got it,” he said, a hoarseness in his voice that you weren’t able to place. “You can keep resting.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yup,” he answered too quickly, wrapping one arm around the bag and tugging it even closer to his chest. “S’all good.”

A strange tension lingered, one that differed from the anger that pulled the conversation taut during your last subway ride home together. Eddie was physically beside you, but his eyes searched the car like he was gearing up for another round of I Spy. 

You needed to speak and move past the embarrassment that tethered you to silence. 

“Eddie?” Your voice was a whisper, barely audible over the train’s clacking and your own internal monologue.

“Hmm?”

You swallowed. “Why didn’t you tell me about going to see your old band?” 

Eddie froze, his arm still tight around your bag; for a moment, you wondered if you crossed the line. 

Finally, he spoke. “Didn’t want to.”

An answer and a non-answer simultaneously, telling you to back off. But you’d be damned if you let today’s progress be soured.

“I wouldn’t have judged you.” Slowly, you let your eyes fall on him, noticing his fingers picking at a loose thread on his jeans. “You don’t have to tell me. But just so you know.” 

He nodded, and you prayed he absorbed the reassurance as it traveled from your lips to his ears. His response was not what you expected, although nothing with Eddie has gone to plan thus far.

“Why haven’t you told your parents about school?”

He knocked you off-kilter despite his calm tone; surprisingly, there was no judgment from him, either. “I don’t want to disappoint them.” When Eddie just looked at you, palms open and brows raised, you realized you’d just answered your own question. “How would you seeing Death’s Echo disappoint me?”

“I dunno.” One scuffed sneaker squeaked against the floor. “I talked a big game about how the music industry is all bullshit and how I didn’t care about the band anymore, but…”

“You miss it,” you filled in.

He sucked his lips to his teeth before nodding. “I miss it,” he said with a reluctant chuckle. “I miss it so fuckin’ much.” 

Exhaling a long breath, he continued. “I mean, I really don’t miss being the record label’s bitch. And I hate the thought of being a sellout. But nothing beats that adrenaline rush you get when you walk on stage and the crowd is screaming your name, or when they sing your lyrics back to you. Lyrics you wrote.”

You stayed silent for a minute, letting the heaviness of his statement sink in. Important. He felt important, wanted, needed. Without saying so, it was evident that working at the motel would never give him that same satisfaction. No amount of desecrated wasp nests or perfectly glued wallpaper could ever compare to the cheers of adoring fans. 

“It’s not over, you know. Your chance to have that again.”

Eddie’s eyes locked onto yours, chocolate irises swimming with a juxtaposing combination of hope and defeat. “No one’s exactly lining up to sign me,” he said. 

“They will.” You smiled, lips together. “You’re too talented to slip under the radar.”

He returned the smile, reaching out his pinky and interlocking it with yours as a thank you. You gave it a tiny pulse in recognition. 

“The other night…” Eddie started. He still looked at you, but the twitch of his nose told you that it was harder to hold than before. “I shouldn’t have said that you’d treat your clients badly.”

“It’s fi—”

“It’s not.” Eddie’s voice was stern, unwavering, but not cold. “And I’m sorry.”

Your pinky remained wrapped around his. “We both said some shitty things that we didn’t mean,” you offered.

“Yeah.” The right side of his mouth turned up, not a full smile, but one filled with compassion nonetheless. “Forgive and forget?”

You cocked your head to give him a knowing look. “One other thing to know about New York women,” you said, “we might forgive, but we never forget.”

Eddie’s half-smile turned into a grin, and he leaned in closer to whisper. “Y’know, for a bookworm, you’re kind of a badass.” 

Trying to ignore the now-familiar tingles that accompanied his tobacco-scented breath on your ear, you resumed your previous position of your head on his shoulder, humming in agreement. There was no hiding how pleased you felt from his praise, his newfound ability to see you beyond a singular dimension.

He peered down at you, his lips brushing your scalp. “Still tired?” 

“Not really.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his seat and stretching out his legs in front of him. “Okay, then,” he murmured, and from the subtle movement in his jaw, you knew he was still smiling as he said it.

Consciousness was a drifting cloud, one that passed overhead quickly to make room for thunderous exhaustion. The storm hit the moment you walked into your room as you flung your backpack and your body onto the bed. 

Your eyes didn’t flutter closed like a fairy tale princess; they snapped shut like an iron gate, impenetrable to any forces. 

Including a clock radio alarm. 

12:09

The digital numbers stared at you, harsh and blinding, as though they also couldn’t believe the time. The alarm you’d set for 9 PM was clearly ineffective, seeing as you were over two hours late to work. 

“Shit!” Whatever spell had enchanted you instantly broke, and you jolted out of bed with such ferocity that you briefly saw stars. 

You smoothed down your T-shirt from where it wrinkled against the starchy comforter. Chalky white deodorant remnants stained the black fabric, right along your ribcage, and you hastily undressed and threw on the nearest clean shirt. 

Sleep tainted your tongue and dried saliva decorated the corner of your mouth, your slumber so deep that you’d drooled. 

“Son of a bitch,” you grumbled, grabbing your toothbrush from its place at the sink and brushing just long enough to chase away the stale taste. 

Was Mom still at the desk? Did Dad have to take over your shift? Had they both assumed you’d show up on time and left the desk unmanned for what they thought would only be a few minutes?

Your blood ran cold. Anyone could have taken a key off of the wall, could have broken into the register and taken what little money you had…

Feet flying, you push open your door and squint to adjust to the harsh hallway lighting. 

Before you did anything else, you needed to apologize profusely to whatever parent had the misfortune of still being behind the desk. Offer to do some extra chores, or take on a few hours of their shift. 

But that plan is stalled when you run into the lobby and see neither your mom nor your dad. Only Eddie, hunched over a stack of scribble-filled papers. 

When he hears your panicked footsteps, he looks up and grins cheekily. “Morning, Sunshine.”

You would have flipped him off if it weren’t for the overwhelming relief that your mistake hadn’t burdened your parents. 

“You know,” he continued, tapping his pen against his teeth, “this gig isn’t half bad. I’m almost finished with these lyrics.”

Your eyes blinked rapidly of their own accord. “Why didn’t anyone wake me up?”

Eddie snorted. He put his pen down on the desk and folded his arms across his chest. “Sweet, naive Sleeping Beauty,” he tutted, adopting a playful tone. “I knocked on the door not once, not twice, but thrice to no answer.”

“Thrice?” You raised a brow at his formal word choice. 

“Thrice.” He held up three fingers and wiggled them for emphasis. “But I figured you must really need the sleep, so…” He gestured vaguely as if to say, here I am. 

One foot in front of the other, right arm still crossed over the left and showing off a litter of inked bats, he sauntered over to you. “I believe this is where you thank me for saving your ass.”

He was teasing, though he did deserve your gratitude, but your mind only focused on the reason why. 

“My parents—”

“Adore me,” Eddie cut in with a knowing grin. “Even gave me the whole ‘any friend of our daughter’s is a friend of ours’ spiel.”

There was that word again: friends. It rubbed you raw, salt on an open wound, and it stung even more coming from his mouth. 

Eddie remained oblivious to your inner turmoil, still ranting about his successful encounter. “Maybe I should be thanking you, since this scored me some major points.”

It was a lifeline; something onto which you could latch instead of letting your thoughts spin in never-ending circles. “Well, then, you’re welcome.”

He noticed the hesitation, even without the context of its cause. “Look, you got a few extra hours of sleep and nothing happened. The place didn’t burn down, didn’t spontaneously combust, and I only accepted one bad check.”

“You what?!”

Eddie guffawed at your widened eyes. “Kidding. Besides,” he added, “you wouldn’t even know it bounced until you took it to the bank.”

“Go fuck yourself.” But the corners of your mouth turned up in a smile, betraying the annoyance you’d tried to present. 

“Will do.” He gave a small salute, two fingers to his forehead, and grabbed his papers off of the desk. “But before I get to that, we need to talk about you not going to your graduation.”

For a moment, you forgot about Nora’s comment earlier that day. It seemed like weeks ago, rather than mere hours. “I can’t.”

Eddie quirked a brow. “Can’t talk about it or can’t go?”

“Both.”

He blew out a breath, equal parts frustration and disappointment. Like he was invested in this, perhaps more so than you were. 

It was enough to pull a genuine explanation from you. “I can’t afford the cap and gown,” you said, “and even if I could, the ceremony starts at nine in the morning. That’s when I sleep.”

He nodded, incisors digging into his lower lip while he digested the information. “So…you’re not doing anything to celebrate?”

“Not having to drag my ass to classes anymore is celebration enough.” Until graduate school starts, you thought wryly, the sinking feeling returning to your stomach. 

Eddie wasn’t accepting that answer, shaking his head so his curls were a brunette blur across his face. “No. No.” His tone was insistent, teetering on the brink of stern. “You worked hard, and you should do something fun.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he considered his options, his brown eyes sparkling as an idea came to him. “Let me take you out for a drink.”

“With what money?”

He scoffed playfully. “I think I can splurge on one drink. No specialty cocktails, though.” He pointed his forefinger in your direction, emphasizing his point. “And house liquor only.”

You wanted to–more than anything, you wanted to. Each weekend, you felt taunted by the sounds of friends traipsing down the street, sharing inside jokes and making memories that would either last a lifetime or be washed away with a few more beers. It was an experience you’d never had, but there was little time for friendship outside of school. 

“I can’t,” you said finally, feeling just as dejected as Eddie looked. “My shifts start at ten.”

“So I’ll get you back by ten,” Eddie said with a shrug, no big deal. “And it’s one drink; ‘s not like you’re gonna be wasted.”

You hesitated before responding, your brain already churning out a thousand excuses to bail. 

I’ll be too tired. 

I don’t want to smell like booze when I’m working. 

I have a cult meeting right before my shift. 

“I…yeah, okay. I can do that.”

Eddie nearly did a double-take at your acceptance; truthfully, you surprised yourself. 

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sure.” He cleared his throat and regained his composure with astonishing speed. “I’ll pick you up at 8 tomorrow?”

You shook your head. “The bars around here always overcharge on weekends. Let’s do Monday.” And maybe by then I’ll conjure up a solid escape plan. 

He grinned, jogging back to the desk and grabbing his pen. “Monday…8 PM…Heiress.” You watched as he wrote the words on his palm, going over the spots where the ink flow weakened. 

Eddie’s hand found yours, left fingers grasping your wrist to keep you steady, his right fingers busy decorating your skin in black ink. His tongue poked out from between his lips as he focused on writing without applying too much pressure, and you tried not to squirm whenever the pen grazed a ticklish spot.  

When he pulled back, your own palm bore a near-identical message to his: 

Monday 8 PM Eddie

Like you could forget. 

-- taglist:

@theintimatewriter @mandyjo8719 @storiesbyrhi @lady-munson @moonmark98

@squidscottjeans @therealbaberuthless @emxxblog @munson-mjstan @loves0phelia

@kthomps914 @aysheashea @munsonsbtch @mmunson86 @b-irock

@ginasellsbooks @erinekc @the-unforgivenn @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975

@yujyujj @eddies-acousticguitar @daisy-munson @kellsck @foreveranexpatsposts

@mykuup @chatteringfox @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @sapphire4082 @katethetank

@sidthedollface2 @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @mysteris-things @mrsjellymunson @josephquinnsfreckles

@the-disaster-in-waiting @eddielowe @hugdealer @rip-quizilla @munson-girl

@fishwithtitz @costellation-hunter @cloudroomblog @emsgoodthinkin

[priniya]

🌊 ASSUMPTIONS

SYNOPSIS. jj maybank gets a little too involved with a kook for his friends’ liking, but he wouldn’t be jj maybank if he gave a shit. on contrary, you do and it bothers him.

NOTES. jj maybank x kook!reader. a little short + not proofread

you definitely underestimated how much things people assume on a daily basis. it had never bothered you before you got with a certain blond pogue — maybe, because beside your small friendship with sarah cameron (and an occasional hook up with her older brother), no one really cared. then you started hanging out with jj maybank and nothing was truly the same.

some people shamelessly assumed that your sweet relationship was strictly of convenience. maybank was with you for the money, giving you weed and fulfill your sexual needs whenever you wanted. some would say that you knew how rafe… wasn’t exactly a fan of pogues, so you hung out with jj to get back at the oldest cameron sibling.

on the other hand, hardly anyone reckoned that due to all that time you were caught spending together made you genuinely like him. no, you always had to have some kind of cruel reasoning for skipping school to smoke weed in the back of twinkie (and make out).

did it bother you? unfortunately, a little bit too much. your boyfriend just got into your room by the halfway open balcony door while you were scribbling down math homework on your ipad. your coursework was one of the small amount of activities that let you rest your brain and get busy with something so insignificant to your relationship.

jj knew you were subconsciously upset. he didn’t really have to ask — the uneasiness painted all over your gorgeous face. his long, distressed sigh got you out of trance. your eyebrows scrunched at the sight in front of you. how did he get there?

“tell me what’s in that pretty head of yours.” he muttered, face inches away from yours after having kissed you — too shortly for your liking.

“my brain.” you let out, hands going to the collar of his t-shirt, unsuccessfully trying to pull him into another of those sweet, mindblowing kisses. “jay.” a groan slipped from your lips as he refused once again and you felt like going insane, one night he says he can’t stop himself from kissing you and now he does? liar.

“let me rephrase the question, you brat.” his eyes rolled. “what’s bothering you so much that you can’t tell me?” his fingers brushed through your hair as you sat yourself in his lap.

“kiss me and i’ll tell you.”

“tell me and i’ll kiss you.” another groan left your mouth, earning a quiet chuckle from him. he was worried, but sending you over the edge was funny, hilarious even.

ten minutes. that’s how long the two of you sat in silence until you were ready to reveal the reason of your upset, thoughts organised and your forehead against his shoulder, while his fingers were tracing different patterns on your back, sending a shiver down your spine once in a while.

“i just— shit, it’s so stupid.” you mumbled, your voice muffled against his shoulder. “i hate that people think you want something particular from me or the other way around.” it’s there and jj couldn’t help but chuckle at your explanation.

not because he thought little of your worried, but because it was almost unlike you to be so bothered by people so insignificant in your life. “doll.” the blond cracked a smile, gently nibbling at your earlobe. “me and you, ride or die, eh?” jj’s smile only got wider, when you nodded. “let them assume whatever they want, why stop ‘em? you know your feelings and i know mine. this is the thing that matters. not gonna lie, though, if you were with me just for my weed or my dick, that would probably give me a god–complex. imagine that the hottest girl in the entire outer banks is with you, because you fuck her so well? jesus, i might get a hard–on right now.”

“you really can’t simply tell me that you love me, can you?” you asked with a smile lingering on your lips long before he finally pressed his mouth against yours.

“you know i do, doll. where’s the fun in that?”

[acapelladitty]

`♡° kinktober 2024! ---

☆ kink: Thigh fucking

☆ pairing: Messmer/Reader

☆ summary: Injured and in need of assistance, you take full advantage of Messmer's vulnerability.

kinktober '24 ☆ main masterlist ☆ ao3

Arriving at Messmer's chambers, you find the door already cracked open and you only pause long enough to take a deep breath before pushing the door further open and stepping through into the now familiar room.

His absence had been felt across the Shadow Keep, your discovery of his leaving only taking place hours after he and a close guard had long departed for whatever business had snatched their attentions.

One of the older servants, a sweet and elderly woman who managed most of the kitchen runnings had been the one to inform you of his return many days later. But her message came with a request, a summons which you were to heed immediately as your lord demanded your presence in his private chambers.

The heat of his room instantly pressed at your skin, making the thin cotton robe which made up your daily clothing feel tight against your flesh. A thin red ribbon, the material silken and smooth, cinched your waist and the pull of it gave you both some definition to your frame and also marked you as personal property of the lord of the keep. A designation which afforded you a decent experience as much of your time was spent in your assigned rooms or mingling with other servants.

As remarkably tall as ever, Messmer is lounging off the edge of his bedchamber and his back straightens as he watches you approach. He is half-nude, his long torso exposed fully while his lower half remained covered by some loose blankets, the light colours only serving to make the paleness of his skin even more pronounced. His snakes watch you with yellow eyes, protruding from his body in their various positions as they keep close to their master.

“I see you received my summons, spirited paramour.”

Spirited paramour.

A title he had bestowed on you quickly after he had secured his coercion of you as his willing lover. He had appeared pleased with himself at the title, pointing out the dual identity of your spirited attempt to kill him and also how quickly you had succumbed to being spirited away as his paramour.

“I was unaware of your return, my lord,” you reply sweetly, only the slightest hint of bite to your voice as you walk towards him with gentle footsteps. Taking in his appearance, you are surprised to note that he looks tired; a weariness sitting loosely on his features as the skin below his eyes appears somewhat sunken and darkened by fatigue. But your gaze is quick to fall from his face as you take in the most obvious change in his appearance, that being a thick patch of reddened skin which looks raw and recently burned.

Beginning at his collarbone and extending down past his right nipple, the expanse of burned skin looks painful to the touch and you cannot hide the grimace which stretches your lips as you stare at it with open interest.

"You are injured."

It wasn't a question and he didn't treat it as such as his dual gaze of gold and darkness pinned you with a serious look.

"By a filthy, impure creature no less. A divine beast of the accursed Hornsent, roaming free in the lands of Rauh and attacking the men stationed there. Had Gaius not been occupied I would have sent him to deal with it," Messmer explained, his voice low and calm as he watched your approach with a slight tilt of his head.

Surprise alights in your face and Messmer is quick to take note of it, his head tilting in such a way that many of his red locks drop past his shoulder to hang free in the air.

“You know of such beasts?”

“In my previous life,” you begin quietly having no reason to hide your knowledge, “I had encountered one similar in my struggles. It attacked and I was forced to flee.”

He considers your words, drinking in the explanation as his elbow comes to rest on his knee and his head balances delicately atop one hand.

“I would not expect you to flee much, my lover. Or perhaps I overestimate how deeply those foolish tarnished traits run?”

Ignoring him, you choose information over a retort, "Did you defeat it?"

"Its decorative head was delivered to the men of the northern encampment whom it had been terrifying. A boon to drive their spirits and alleviate their fears."

Standing before his bed, the massive frame of it perfect to house his elongated body, you rove your eyes across the sturdy wood as you nod. The cloths which drape across the structure look soft as hell and your fingers itch with the urge to reach out and stroke along them.

"What do you need from me, my lord? I doubt my summons was merely to listen to you speak."

Snatching your attention back his face, Messmer's spine straightens once more - a move which makes the burn marks on his pale torso even more pronounced - and his haughty tones wash over you with a familiar smugness as he takes the disrespectful question in stride.

"My injuries have left me with an unfortunate ache in my limbs. You will put yourself to good use in assisting me with such a menial task, little tarnished."

Inclining his head to a half-full bottle of oil which sits on the floor to the side of his bed, your task is obvious and heat flares in your cheeks as you realise he wants you to rub your hands across his vast frame.

As his chosen paramour, you had been intimate several times across the short time you had lived within the Shadow Keep. The first coupling, where he had claimed you, had been brutal and unforgiving but his attitude had been tempered in your engagements since – his desire for intimacy making him a more thoughtful lover than some of the men you had shared your bedroll with.

His size was always a challenge but he often took the time to prepare you with his fingers to ensure a smoother, less pained entry, and it was a decision which had softened the lingering resentment of his defeat of you. Not to mention the genuine pleasure which he appeared to enjoy sharing and, in the few times where his release had come before your own, he had continued to use his hands and cock to drag you over the edge of oblivion.

A demigod through and through.

Apparently.

You pick up the bottle of oil and walk around the side of his bed, quickly clamouring up atop the sheets as you take up position behind him – your body having to raise fully on your knees to give you the height necessary to reach his shoulders. Spilling a little of the oil in your hand, the scent of it is heavily perfumed and it catches your breath for a moment as you inhale it slowly and warm the liquid between your palms.

As you rub your hands, you take a moment to look at his back – an area of his body that you were quite unfamiliar with in your exploits. The skin there was as pale as the rest of him and equally as littered with imperfections. Regardless, you can’t help the thrum of pleasure that pulsates through your cunt at the thought of getting to touch him in such a manner.

Rolling your palms across his wide shoulders, the natural heat of his body makes the application of the oil much smoother as you spread it thinly across the scarred skin. He's covered by the history of his wars; sharp, white lines decorating the skin here and there while more ragged tissue covers a patch near the top of his shoulder, the scarring there looking more bestial in nature than anything else.

His snakes never take their eyes off you, floating in the air comfortably as they take in every small motion and expression which crosses your face as they stare with empty gazes. You try to not meet their eyes as you massage their master, feeling the taut knots which sit below his skin as his flexing muscles hold their tension.

A thought rises, unbidden in your mind, of what could have happened if the beast had gotten the better of him. With Messmer dead, your role would die with him, as would the protection that such a position provided you. You had seen some of the other men as they roamed the Keep, those war weary soldiers and generals who had witnessed you in your soft clothing and it had not taken much to notice how hungry their gazes were as they fell across your body.

With no lord to serve, you would be vulnerable to claims from another, but it was a concern for another day.

Messmer is as relaxed in your palms as you could expect and you can feel the rumble of his approval thundering through his chest as he enjoys the attention. A wicked thought rises in your mind as you shift your thighs together and feel the dampness there.

Abandoning his shoulders, you grip at his long arm with a firm clench as you snake your way across his body and deposit yourself in his lap. His hands move swiftly to secure you in place on his knees and a soft gasp slips free of your lips as you take in the aroused state of his cock, the thick length tenting the blankets which you are now perched on.

You move slowly, pulling the blankets free to expose his length and heat flares in your cheeks as you avoid his heated gaze. Fingers still slick with oil, you take a moment to transfer what little of the liquid still sat on your hands to his cock as you take him into your palm.

"Wanton little tarnished," Messmer growls, bucking into your hand and you wrap it around the base of his cock, "what do you think you are doing?"

Feigning ignorance as you continue to slowly use the residual oil on your fingers to coat his cock, his thighs are hard as they flex beneath your clothed groin.

"Taking care of you, my lord. Is that not my purpose?"

He's suspicious. Rightfully so. But he allows it.

Once he’s fully oiled up, you lift your body enough to pull the hem of your robe high and push it behind you to expose your lower half. Taking his cock in hand, you shuffle forward until you’re able to place his length between your legs and close your thighs around it. The heat of his cock is warm against the underwear which covers your sex and you shudder into the sensation as you gently lift your ass and drag your thighs across his oiled cock.

Content to allow you your desires, Messmer makes no attempt to hide his interest as his hard length jerks between your things, the pillowy flesh making his lips curl back into a smirk.

“Spirited paramour, didst thou miss my presence within the Keep?” His voice low with arousal, the familiar smugness is as subtle as ever.

“No,” you deny hotly, “the peace was delightful.”

At the response, Messmer growls, “Lies.”

His wide hands come to settle on your hips and his strength is as breathtaking as ever as he lifts and lowers your body with a steady rhythm, matching his light thrusts with your movements as he fucks himself between your thighs. The scent of the oil is heady and your breath comes in shallow pants as his cock rubs against the thin fabric which covers your cunt – every stroke slowly building the aching heat within your groin.

Messmer is as vocal as ever, his muted grunts and soft exhales making your hold back a smile as he enjoys your body. From this position you can feel his chest rising and falling as you splay your fingers across his torso, tactfully avoiding the wide burns. His hips move quickly though, building a pace which tells you that he is close to his release.

With a guttural noise, somewhere between a hiss and a moan, Messmer comes and his cock jerks between your heated thighs before depositing its seed in a wide arc with some of it landing on your thighs and some reaching as high as his own stomach. Your cunt twitches against the throbbing length, nowhere near its own fulfilment, but something in how slack Messmer’s jaw goes while his golden gaze dulls is stunningly distracting.

Pale and red, the son of a god, he truly was beautiful in how unique he appeared.

Sated and coated in his own mess, Messmer allows his body to fall back to the softness of his bedsheets as he reclines comfortably. A high noise, one not quite a scream, slips free of your lips as his right arm wraps around your waist and pulls you down with him.

He enjoyed physical contact in the aftermath, a fact that was as unexpected as his other strengths. Many of the men who you had known previously were very strict in their wants.

His leg tilts, pushing up between your legs and you spread them willingly, adjusting to the new position as you're now forced to cling to him like a maiden. Your legs a tangled mess of limbs and your head pressing to his chest, his arm pins you against him roughly - clearly unwilling to allow you to leave as he relaxes into the surprisingly peaceful moment.

Not willing to be the one to disturb the quiet, you let him adjust you as he sees fit and choose to give it at least five minutes before reminding him that your own frustrated arousal had yet to be met in kind.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

absolution

words: 10k

warnings: 18+ only! smut, panic attacks, parental loss, kidnapping, established relationship, descriptions of violence

follows the events of the end of season 2/start of season 3

“rafe, whats wrong?” you ask, taking his face in your hands. you can see how visibly on edge he is from the way his eyes are darting around, hands clenching into fists then unclenching rapidly.

“it’s okay, princess, nothing is wrong.” rafe says, using the pet name for you that he always does when he’s definitely done something wrong, like gotten into another fight. he steps out of your hold, which is what makes you realize something is actually going on. he never rejects your touch.

“babe…” you begin, but then you hear it, a distant call. your furrow your brow, turning towards the noise. “what is that?” you begin to walk deeper into the house when rafe stops you by grabbing your wrist, tugging you back against his body.

“don’t go down there princess.” rafe pulls you into a separate room but you hear it clearer now that you're listening for it, a call for help, very clearly in rafe’s sisters voice. it sounds like it’s coming from the wine cellar but you can’t be sure.

“sarah? what is happening to sarah?” you ask, turning to rafe with wide eyes, scared of what is going on. you weren’t sure what to think when rafe texted you late at night, telling you that he needed you at his house asap. you were already freaked out from the drive over, playing terrible situations in your head as your anxiety spiked.

“shh, calm down, baby. just let me explain.” rafe leads you away and your mind is spinning too much for you to think. 

“rafe, i’m starting to get freaked out here-” you say, but when he leads you to sit down on the couch, you follow him. you’re sure your boyfriend has some sort of reasonable explanation as to what is going on here because no matter how bad people try to make him out to be, you know the man that you’re in love with isn’t capable of doing all those terrible things he’s accused of.

“shh, drink this tea to calm you down then i’ll explain, okay?”

you realize then that your breathing is too fast, so you accept the tea, taking a sip of the warm liquid, feeling it soothe your throat. you instantly start to feel that something is wrong, and you look up at rafe with hurt and confusion in your eyes. 

“rafe-” you begin, and he quickly drops to his knees in front of you, hugging you as you begin to hyperventilate, “rafe, what did you do?” you ask, and your speech sounds slurred even to your ears.

“i’ve got you baby. i’ve got you. i’m so sorry, god, i’m so fucking sorry.” you see him kiss the side of your head but your skin is too numb to feel it. your vision begins to go out and then you slump forward, everything going dark as you lean against rafes shoulder.

--

your blinks are heavy as you feel the last bits of sleep slipping away. you let out a groan and turn into rafe’s hold, realizing you must be on a couch or something as your leg slips off the thin surface. you press your face against rafes chest when your ears make out unfamiliar sounds.

you go to sit up when rafe tugs you back down, but you still get a good enough view of where you’re at.

“rafe.” you turn to him, fury in your eyes. “what the actual fuck.” 

“baby, i promise i can explain.” but you’re sick of waiting for an explanation that clearly isn’t coming if he had to drug you last time to get out of telling you. you rip out of his hold and stand up, wobbling slightly as the effets are still wearing off. you look around the room, it’s rusty and small and when your eyes land upon a window, that’s when you realize. 

“we’re on a boat?” you turn to look at rafe, who is now sitting up. his gaze quickly drops, too ashamed to look at you.

“you drugged me and brought me onto a fucking boat?!” you scream, running your hands through your hair.

“i had to go, baby.” rafe stands up, trying to grab your hands but you back up away from him, not wanting to feel his touch. “i had to go and i didn’t want to leave you there all alone. i did it because i love you princess.”

rafe must be referring to the fact that your parents died two years ago in a car crash, and rafe was the only person you had to lean on. “fuck you, rafe.” you head towards the door. you turn around suddenly before opening it. “you want to know the worst part?” you continue on before rafe can answer, “is that you thought you had to drug me. that you didn’t trust me enough to just come with you. i love you, rafe.” 

you walk away at that, slamming the door so rafe can’t follow, but you know he will anyway. you walk across the grated walkway, looking out and realizing you’re so far from land that there’s none in sight, even far off in the distance. you go to head down the stairs onto the main deck, when you bump shoulders with someone.

“ward?” your heart drops in your chest. he’s supposed to be dead. 

“y/n, it’s good to see you.” he says, and you turn to look at rafe, who of course followed you, wondering how long he’s known. how long he’s sympathized with you over losing a parent, how he felt the pain that you had felt, how you were working through the loss together.

“don’t.” you tell rafe when he opens his mouth, tears welling up in your eyes. you turn towards ward, feeling so overcome with emotions. “i’m glad you’re alive.” it’s all you can get out before sobs take over. you turn and run down the stairs, glancing back onto to see ward stopping rafe from following you.

ward has always been nice to you. he helped you get your family home back in your name once your parents died by briefly owning it as part of his real estate business only to sell it back to you for a single dollar. it was when you and rafe first started dating and while you’re sure that had a part to play, he could have turned around and sold the house for almost a million dollars but still chose to help you out instead.

you head to the front of the ship, wanting to get as much distance as you can at the moment. you find a spot against a crate and slide to the ground, your legs still feeling wobbly from the drugs. you look out at the ocean, finding the way the sun reflects off the waves beautiful, but you wish you were viewing it under different circumstances. you’re not sure how much time passes, but suddenly a man comes over to you. 

“are you a stowaway?” he asks. you look up at him in confusion. you’re honestly not sure if you are, you have no context as to why you are on this boat.

“why?” you choose to answer back. maybe coming out was a bad idea, but it didn’t seem like rafe was trying to hide at all.

“captain asked us to look for stowaways.” he explains, leaning down to examine you. “i think you should come with me either way, pretty thing.”

you’re honestly getting very hungry so while you don’t want to see rafe (or ward, even if you’re glad he’s not dead), you get up and follow the man towards the bridge. you also have no clue what he will do to you if you don't follow.

“if you are a stowaway, you’re the damn sexiest one i’ve ever seen.” the man tells you as you head up the stairs. your eyes widen and you’re glad he’s walking behind you to not see your expression as you rush up the final steps, opening the door to reveal who you assume is the captain and rafe.

“she is not a stowaway.” rafe puts a protective arm around you, and you let him as the man gives you a dirty look.

“well, excuse me for being thorough.” he holds up his hands in defense. the captain gives him a nod, and he leaves the room.

“sweetie-” rafe says, but you step out of his hold, as comfortable as it feels, how familiar it is to have your bodies touching.

“i’m hungry.” you tell rafe. it takes him a second to get moving, mumbling something to the captain about telling him if they find anyone before leading you out of the room. 

he takes you to the mess area and you eat, almost unable to swallow as you hold back the thick tears that are threatening to spill. you give him plenty of silence to tell you what's going on, but he stays quiet instead.

“y/n-” rafe begins when you get up, but you walk away without a word. you head back outside, leaning against the railing. 

you catch movement from below and look down to see sarah. “sarah, hey!” you call, relieved to see that she’s alright, but she looks up with a shake of her head and holds a finger over her lips. you nod in agreement. you don’t know what’s going on, but you’ve always liked sarah, despite becoming more distant once you started dating rafe.

a minute after she hurries away you see ward, scanning the deck with a glare on his face. you don’t know all the pieces of the puzzle, but you’re beginning to put a bit together. “ward!” you call out. he snaps his head up to you. 

“i’m a little busy right now, y/n.” he says, going to wave you off, but you want to help sarah.

“it’s about sarah!” that gets his attention as he walks up the stairs quickly, taking them two at a time. “sarah? where is she, have you seen her?”

“n-no. i just wanted to ask if she was alright. she was yelling last time i saw her at tanneyhill.” rafe pinches his nose in between his fingers. “yes, she’s alright. i’m trying to find her to make sure she stays alright.” “okay, sorry.” you say, hoping your conversation gave sarah at least a little more time. you always admired her rebellious spirit, wishing you had some of it yourself. 

--

the sun is just starting to lower in the sky when you hear a message playing over the loudspeaker “attention all passengers and crew, report to the tween forward hull… attention all passengers, all crew, report to the tween forward hull. that’s an order.”

you’re not exactly sure where the tween forward hull is, but you see a few other people walking quickly that way so you follow as the message plays again.

one of the men that you're guessing is crew opens a door, signaling for people to head inside. you follow the group, only pausing when you’re joined by the man who questioned you about being a stowaway earlier. he gives you a smirk that has your stomach turning. you stop suddenly, ducking into a doorway. you don’t want to be in a room with a bunch of strange men, and you don’t see rafe anywhere among the group.

you get a sudden feeling in your chest, one that’s all too familiar. you begin to panic, your hands shake and your legs give out. you slide to the floor as you feel the anxiety attack overtake your body. it’s been too much stress over the past 24 hours, you should have known that this was coming.

you can’t bring yourself to move as you rest your head against the cool metal, hoping you can get it to calm down on your own. if only rafe was here to make it all better. he could instantly lessen your panic with a soft touch and his sweet words.

you’re not sure how much time has passed by the time you can control your breathing. you stand up slowly, feeling your knees shake slightly. you head towards where the men were going but get confused. you head down a hallway, then another, then another, you’re not even sure if you’re retracing your own footsteps at this point or not. the panic begins to set in again when you push through a door and reveal that you’re outside. it’s completely empty from what you can see. 

you head out, looking around when you see sarah by the lifeboats. “sarah!” you shout, running over to her. “what’s going on?”

sarah continues working to get the lifeboat into the water. you hear something and turn your head when you see the crane going. “sarah, please just tell me what’s happening.”

“i just…” sarah pushes her hair out of her face. “i just don’t have time, i’m sorry y/n.”

you step back as sarah starts to lower the lifeboat into the water, suddenly hearing yelling as you see the crane lifting a large golden cross. you leave sarah and head towards the commotion. you shouldn’t have run, you immediately regret it when you smack straight into people fighting. you realize quickly it’s jj and the captain, and the captain is holding a machete.

“are you one of them too?” he asks, and you don’t know what he’s referring to so you just stand there in silent shock. he suddenly knocks jj off and throws him overboard, and that gets you moving. kiara, who you just realized was there as well, gives him a kick, and you follow as well with a kick to his back. he falls down to his knees as kiara gives him a kick that should earn her a black belt, knocking him out.

you go to ask kiara what is happening, but she is diving over the edge. you look over to see that she’s holding a passed out jj above the water so he can breathe.

you head out onto the main deck right as a girl you don’t recognize drops the line holding the cross. rafe comes out from behind the crates to grab onto the rope. 

“rafe!” you yell, running towards him. you go to help grab onto the line to help him, when suddenly the main rope connecting the cross to the crane is dropped and the rope pitches forward. your hand gets caught and before you can right yourself, you’re falling overboard. you tumble into the ocean, the sudden cold knocking the breath out of you. 

it’s hard to tell which way is up as you swim, but you eventually break the surface.

you can hear rafe calling for you but you can’t focus on anything other than keeping your head above water. you’ve never been the strongest swimmer, despite growing up on the island.

“get y/n! she went overboard!” you can hear rafes yells even as the waves pound against your head.

you look up to see two more figures jumping overboard. “y/n!” you hear, and you turn to see sarah approaching in the lifeboat she was lowering earlier. you climb on with sarahs help, realizing pope is one of the people who jumped overboard.

you sit in shock against the bottom of the boat, hearing yelling but not being able to make anything out except for rafe yelling your name over and over again as another panic attack sets in.

the boat begins to speed away as you sit up in confusion. you don’t want to leave, you want rafe. that’s all you want. you see him look over the edge of the boat, yelling your name frantically.

“raaaafe!” you shout as the lifeboats engine stalls. you consider making a jump for it, returning to rafe, but you know that you would sink as you can barely move your limbs.

“y/n shut up!” you hear sarah yell, but you can’t focus on that right now as the engine comes back to life and you speed away from your boyfriend.

you lay your cheek against the rubbery side of the boat, letting sobs overtake your body as the boat gets smaller and smaller. “rafe.” you let out a little sniffle.

“god, y/n he’s not the guy you thought he was.” pope suddenly says. you turn to look at him, confused. “what?”

“he kept shit from you. bad shit. that cross? that belonged to my family and rafe stole it.”

“no, no, he wouldn’t do that.” you say, sitting up and wiping the tears off your face, even as sea water comes and splashes it, wetting your cheeks again.

“he drugged you, y/n, you’re not seriously sticking up for him right now?” sarah says.

“i’m just…” you realize that they’re all very pissed at rafe right now and you really don’t want to try your chances as you being thrown overboard. “i’m just confused right now. and exhausted.” “aren’t we all.” the girl you don’t recognize says. she sees your confusion and gives you a gentle smile, “i’m cleo.”

“y/n.” you mumble back, pulling your knees into your chest as the sun starts to set, making you shiver.

--

“y/n girl, it’s an island! you’re not going to be able to get it clean!” cleo says as you try to sweep the sand off of the makeshift floor out of felled tree trunks.

“it just makes me feel better.” you say, using the bundle of twigs you tied together as a makeshift broom.

“alright girl.” cleo holds her hands up. “well i’m heading down to the bonfire with everyone else. promise you’ll join us soon.”

“yeah, i will.” you nod. you finish cleaning the floor the best you can before you turn to yourself, grabbing the bucket of seawater you kept up here to put out fires and using it to rub the dirt off your arms and legs. you simply are not made for this type of living. you hate the bugs, you hate eating fish every night, you hate sleeping on the ground, and more than anything, you miss rafe.

“hey guys.” you say when you make it down to the beach, sitting on a log next to cleo, who you’ve gotten the closest to among the group. everyone else formed their little tribe, and it’s like you were the outsider, the only one wishing constantly for home. you thought you and sarah would get along more, but she spends all of her time with john b, pretending your don't exist, a constant reminder of her brother.

“what do you think rafe is doing with the cross now.” pope asks. you visibly jump at the name.

“pope, let’s not…” cleo says, reaching and squeezing your hand.

“i wonder if that fucker is melting them into gold bars as we speak.” pope continues.

“guys, stop.” cleo says more firmly as tears begin to roll down your face.

“she needs to hear this, cleo. it’s not right that she’s sitting here crying over a murderer.” jj stands up for his friend.

“i’m not!” you shout. “i know how you guys feel, damn you make it well known, but it’s hard for me to separate the man i loved, the only person who was there for me when my parents died, with the one that you know. so i’m fucking sorry if i’m sitting here crying over him, if i’m missing him. he was my rock, my everything, for years. i’m not saying you can’t talk shit about him, but at least have the decency to do it when i’m not around.”

you get up and walk away from the fire again, towards the water. the ocean has been your one solace while you are on the island. you’ve been practicing swimming every single day, and you even have tried some of the makeshift boards that john b made. you walk out just so your calves are submerged, closing your eyes under the moonlight as you feel the eb and flow of the waves coming in and then rolling out to sea. 

you stand there for probably ten minutes before you hear the splashing of people joining you. you turn to see pope and jj standing there.

“we’re really sorry, y/n.” pope says, with jj nodding along. “it’s easy for us to forget that you didn’t know anything. we shouldn’t be upset at you and we will try not to talk bad about rafe while you’re around.” “thank you guys.” you say, giving them both a hug. you follow them back towards the bonfire, plastering a smile on your face as you sit and laugh at their jokes. it takes everything in you not to start crying again, but you know that they made a big step apologizing, and you need to show how much you appreciate it.

--

“guys wake the hell up!” you hear cleo say. you sit up suddenly, not really sleeping anyways, just laying on your makeshift bed.

“a plane.” you stand up suddenly as the rest of the crew starts to wake up. “there’s a fucking plane!” you yell.

“we have to make sure it sees us!” you yell, and start joining cleo in running to higher ground. you wave your arms and jump and scream as pope lights the bonfire.

“hey!” you shout as the plane starts to get further away. “no, no, no, no, fuck!” you scream, falling to the ground. 

“girl, it’s turning around, get up!” cleo says, and you lift your head to see the plane heading towards the pond. you feel tears running down your face before you even realize you’re crying. you hug cleo as tightly as you can before taking off towards the plane.

you stay back as john b talks to the pilot. sarah gives you a look and you share the same one right back, this guy is sketchy, and the plane certainly isn't in good condition. the pilot introduces himself as jimmy and while you’re a little bit more apprehensive about getting on, cleo seems too excited for you to point out how weird he is to her, so you climb on.

you sit towards the back of the plane, happy to look out the window and keep to yourself. you just want to get back to the outer banks, back to your bed, and hopefully, back to rafe. despite everything the pogues have told you, you can’t damper the love you still feel for rafe. you know it’s messed up what rafe did, but you also know that everything he did was for the good of his family, and for you. he knows from seeing you lose your entire family in one moment how precious it is.

the others begin to whisper, and you lean in to listen. jj thinks that the pilot works for ward. they begin to look through his stuff, and you half heartedly join them, not understanding why they’re so upset. they’re still getting off the island either way.

once they find proof, they begin to form a plan. while jj attempts to put the proof back, jimmy sees, and turns around, letting go of the wheel. you scream as the plane begins to shake up and down. your heart begins to beat fast again as you look out the window in attempt to distract yourself and stop the oncoming panic attack, but all you see is the sea approaching way too fast as you drop altitude. 

you accidentally fall into cleo, but she holds you close as the plane suddenly hits the water, going nose first. you black out for half a second before you realize how much water is flooding the plane. you kick open the door and begin swimming out, towards where men are gathering on the shore. you assume they are police and can help you get home.

you ignore any commotion going on behind you and focus solely on swimming towards the beach. you see kie pulling jimmy onto the shore and rush to help her. “kie…” you begin as you see four wheelers approaching you, who do not look friendly. “we gotta run.”

she nods and sets off towards the town, but theres so many people. “split up.” she whispers and you nod, running the opposite direction, but when you go to turn, you’re quickly snagged around the waist. you let out a shrill scream as you’re tossed into the back of a truck. you try to see if kiara gets taken as well, but you can’t tell.

--

you’re brought into a mansion, directed right up into a bedroom. you try to look around the place for kiara, but you don’t see her. you hope that means that she’s gotten away, but you can’t be sure. there were just so many men swarming the beach within minutes.

a couple of the guys ask you questions but you stay completely silent. you were hoping the men were police, but clearly there is a different power at play here.

“dinner at 8. get dressed.” the man who lead you to your room says before slamming the door. you look around at all the comforts you’ve lived without. you have no clue what time it is now, but you rush into the shower. you’ve been longing for one ever since you got onto that godforsaken boat. you strip down and scrub your skin clean, finally able to brush out your hair. you stay in the shower until the water starts to get cold. 

you get out and while drying off find a pale blue dress and undergarments laid out for you. what kind of weirdo has this stuff already available you don’t know, but you get dressed anyways once you’re dry. you admire yourself in the mirror, finally seeing the version of yourself that you’re used to seeing.

you look at the bed but don’t dare sit on it, not when you know that you’d fall asleep and not want to get up from the plush surface. you watch out the windows, trying to memorize the movement of the armed men, until a maid opens the door.

“they’re ready.”

you nod and follow her downstairs nervously. she gestures to an open door and you see a man with his back to you, pouring himself a whiskey. your heart instantly feels a burst of pain as you think of how much rafe liked his whiskey, and then the man is turning around, and your heart doesn’t just burst, but shatters into a million pieces. 

“rafe.” you sob, running towards him as he moves around the table to get to you. 

“y/n, oh my god, baby.” rafe says, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“i’ve missed you so much.” you sob into rafe’s shoulder, letting your tears wet his suit. “i love you.” you pull away to look him in the eye. “i love you rafe.” because no matter what anyone else said, you do love him, with your whole heart.

“no baby, don’t so that.” rafe holds your face in his hands. “i don’t deserve your love for what i did for you. i’m so sorry baby.” he leans in and finally finally connects your lips in a kiss you melt against him, having thought about this moment the entire time you were apart.

“i love you too.” rafe says when he pulls away for a moment. you both go to resume the kiss when you hear footsteps. you take rafes hand in yours and turn to the door, eyebrows raising up when you see kiara. you were so sure she’d gotten away.

“kie-” you begin, but you see her eyes turn to rafes face, and then your joined hands.

she starts to yell, but a voice stops you. you just now realize there is a man in the connecting room.

“who are you?” rafe asks, and you step slightly behind him, squeezing his hand in fear. 

“me? my name is carlos singh.” the man replies. “it’s a pleasure to meet you, mr. cameron, and your lovely girlfriend.” he gives a nod towards you before addressing kiara. “please, come sit down.”

“she doesn’t need to be here for this. please.” rafe says. carlos singh looks you over before giving a nod to the man by the door. 

“no rafe, i want to stay with you.” you say, afraid of getting separated again.

“don’t worry, mr. cameron will be returned to your room.” singh says, and for some weird reason you trust him on that. while you wouldn’t trust him with anything else, he doesn’t seem like the person to lie. he’s got too much power to need to do that.

“i love you.” you tell rafe as the man places a hand on your arm, guiding you out of the room. you look back before the door shuts, seeing the hurt on kiaras face and the love on rafes.

--

you listen to kiara and rafe continuing to argue over the diary, like you have since they were dropped back off in the room you were in. they came and watched something by the window, but rafe made you stay back. you jumped when you heard a gunshot, and he quickly came back over to hold you tight to his chest, refusing to tell you what he saw.

“guys, can we just breathe for one second.” you say. 

“i don’t even want to hear from your right now.” kiara says with an exasperated laugh. “i mean, we told you every shitty thing your boyfriend did and you just take him back like this?”

“don’t talk to her like that.” rafe says, and then they begin to argue again. you close your eyes, wishing you could drown out the noise. 

“shut up!” you yell after a minute, unable to take it anymore. “just shut up. either kiara doesn’t know where the diary is or she isn’t going to tell you rafe. either way we are in the same position. we have to figure something else out.”

you’re delivered dinner a half hour or so later as you attempt to think of a plan. you eat in silence, sitting next to rafe while kiara is across the room. you’re convinced if you could just explain why you forgive rafe that she would understand it. just like she looks out for her family of pogues, rafe looks out for his family. but you’re not in the mood for anymore shouting and when night falls, you begin to prepare for bed after making a plan. no use trying to stay up all night in preparation for something and being too exhausted in the morning to make a move.

“here, baby, i found you pajamas.” rafe says, handing you some clothes so you could get out of your dress. kiara takes the other set into the bathroom and changes before you and rafe go in there together. he helps undress you, peppering kisses all over your body as he does so.

“i missed you so much.” rafe says. “i sent planes out every day to look for you. sorry this singh guy found you first.”

“it’s okay.” you soothe your hands over rafes shoulders, before bringing one up to the back of his head to feel his short cropped hair. “i knew you would look for me.”

“i never should have brought you along at all. it was selfish of me.” rafe pouts, but you kiss the frown off his face. 

“your mistake was not telling me everything that happened when it happened. if i would have known, i could have helped. that’s the only reason i was upset. we could have made better decisions together.” “never keeping anything from you again.” rafe promises as you get dressed into your pajamas. rafe stays in his suit, not finding any clothes for him. you come out of the bathroom to see kiara is already on the couch, turned away with her back to you.

you watch as rafe lays down on the bed, pulling back the covers for you to get in next to him. you pause before you touch the sheets. 

“what’s wrong?” rafe asks. 

“it’s been… a month since i’ve slept in a real bed.”

“baby.” rafe sighs, taking your hand in his and tugging you gently. you finally lay down against the silky sheets, letting out a soft moan at the feeling of the mattress sinking underneath you. “i promise you’ll never have to sleep on the ground ever again.”

“rafe.” you turn to look at him in the darkness. “our priority has to be getting back to the outer banks, yeah? i want to go home. fuck the gold, fuck the diary, fuck it all. home, please.” “yes, of course, baby.” rafe says, pressing a kiss against your lips. “i’ll get you home, promise.”

“thank you.” you kiss rafe again, feeling that level of comfort and contentment that you’ve been missing. you let him bundle you into his arms, holding you close to his warm body.

“now tell me all about where you were.” “well, they called it poguelandia…”

--

“baby.” you feel rafe shake you. “babygirl, you gotta wake up.”

“mmm.” you hum and shake your head no. “don’t want to.”

“i know, princess, i promise i’m gonna get you home soon but kiara just left to talk to mr. singh and i don’t know whats about to happen.” the reality of your situation begins to set in. you sit up, realizing you’re not at home, happy in your own bed.

“so sorry, princess.” rafe says, giving you a kiss as you get out of bed, slipping your shoes on incase you have to run. 

“kiara left?” you ask, rubbing your eyes as rafe finger combs through your hair.

“she went to talk to mr. singh. i don’t know what about but i need you to just be ready for anything. no matter what happens though, you keep yourself safe, okay? even if that means abandoning me.” “what? rafe no.” you shake your head, grabbing his hand. “i’m not letting us get separated again.”

“you have to, baby, if it means not getting hurt. i can’t lose you, okay? i already blame myself too much for holding that fucking cross up instead of diving in to save you. instead, they got you. that’s my fault.” “you didn’t know what was going on. you didn’t know they’d take me. you thought you’d get the cross secured and then you’d rescue me.”

“i should have prioritized you over that fucking gold.” rafe places a hand on your jaw, raising your head so you have to look at him. “don’t try to make it seem okay baby. its my biggest regret.” “after drugging me.” you whisper, then let your smile slip. it’s not funny by any means, but god, you’ve been through some shit and your only coping mechanism right now is a bit of humor.

“after that, yeah.”

you’re about to respond when kiara enters the room. “what happened, kie?” you ask, noticing she’s starting to cry. you leave rafes side to wrap your arms around her as she sits down on the couch. you’re surprised she doesn’t push you away.

“we aren’t getting out.” kiara finally says, picking her head up.

“we just need to work together.” you tell kiara, squeezing her shoulders. “we’ll be okay.”

“i’ve got a boat that can get us off the island. back home. we just have to get out of here.” rafe says.

you hear a car engine and all three of you rush to the window, seeing men pile up in the back of the truck bed. “they’re going to find john b.” kiara says.

“and sarah.” you look to rafe.

“as if he cares about sarah, he shot at her.” kiara says.

“what i did to sarah… what i tried to do… that was wrong. i never should have touched her, alright? i know that, so you don’t have to remind me.” rafe begins to pace, running his hand over his head as tears begin to fall. “she was family, i never should have touched her, but i just lose control in moments like that, i don’t know what happens, and im trying, im trying to get better.”

“we know, rafe, hey.” you stop his hand from hitting his own head. “hey, baby, we know.” rafe lets you wrap your arms around him, leaning to rest his head against your shoulder as you rub over your back. “i’ll help you work on it, i promise.”

you give kiara a pleading glance, hoping she will help rafe know that everyone doesn’t see him as a bad guy. “okay, rafe.” she nods.

--

“are you sure about this?” you ask rafe. 

“yeah, get in the wardrobe. don’t come out until i get you like we planned.” rafe says, leading you into the bathroom.

“i can help, kie tell him” you say.

“no offense but it’s better if you stay in there.” “okay.” you concede, sitting in the wardrobe and closing your eyes as rafe closes the door and begins to stage the fight. you try to drown out the yelling, even though you know it’s fake.

you want to scream when you hear the guard and rafe fighting, but after a minute, the door opens and you rush out to see rafe unhurt.

you follow them out the room and down the stairs. you keep tight to rafe, trusting him to get you out and protect you.

“kiara, come on.” you whisper as she stops to take a picture of the painting on the wall. “kie.”

she stops typing and rejoins you as you head outside. rafe makes you stay back for a minute as he looks over the fence before kiara gets an idea and you all take off, running after a truck. 

“come on, baby.” rafe says as you all climb over the fence. you barely make it to grab onto the truck, but when you do, the three of you are met face to face with a man sitting in the bed.

“rafe.” you say when he pulls himself up and over the side, punching the man in the face repeatedly. kiara helps you get all the way in.

“rafe!” you say again as the struggle continues, until rafe throws him out of the truck. “rafe, oh my god.” you say, seeing his true power for the first time.

“shh, baby it’s alright.” rafe sits down next to you, seeing how scared you are. “i had to do it for us, okay?” 

you nod, but kiara doesn’t look convinced. “for us.” rafe repeats, putting his arm around your shoulders.

kiara peaks over the top of the truck. “we have to cover ourselves, guys. there’s a checkpoint.” thankfully there’s a tarp in the truck. you arrange it over top of your bodies, rafe lying almost completely over top of you, and you know it’s for your protection. you hold tightly to his arm as the car slows. thankfully they just take a quick look in the back before letting you through.

you let out a big sigh of relief when you make it through. “to the boat.” rafe kisses the side of your head. “we are heading to the boat.” he looks over you to kiara, and you nod at him. “kie, we can give you a ride out, drop you somewhere safe.”

“come on, kie, you don’t have a better option right now. i know you don’t trust rafe, but trust me.” you tell kiara.

“okay.” she whispers.

--

“go sit princess, i have to get us untied.” rafe tells you as you get onto the yacht.

you nod and sit on one of the deck couches, stretching your legs that are unused to so much running. “come on, kiara.” you call to her, noticing she’s still on the dock.

kiara stares at rafe as he heads to the helm, but eventually gets on. “can you get the bowline?” he asks her. 

“i, i can’t get it.” kiara calls after a moment. “i need some help.”

you go to stand up but rafe stops you, rushing over to get it undone, not knowing how much time you have. as soon as it’s untied, kiara surges towards rafe, shoving him over the edge.

“kie!” you yell, running to the railing, but kiara stops you.

“us or him.” she says, and you know your answer as you jump overboard to join rafe. there’s no way you’re going to do anything to stop kiara. you understand her need to help her friends and don’t want to stand in the way. you trust rafe to get you off the island another way.

rafe starts yelling at kie as she drives the boat away, but calms down as you swim over to him. “it’s okay, rafe, we’ll figure it out.” you say, swimming towards the ladder on the dock. 

“she took away my best opportunity to get you home, princess, you should be mad at her too.” rafe says, climbing out after you.

“she needs to rescue her friends… our friends. they’re mine too.” you’re not sure if they would agree with you, especially after kiara tells them that you’re back with rafe, 

“they would hurt you if it meant getting ahead.” rafe says, grabbing your hand to lead you off of the dock. he needs time to formulate a plan, but here is not the place to do it.

you rip your hand out of rafes grip. “as if that isn’t all you’ve done to them. all they try to do is survive, and all you have done so far is take. for greed, as if you already aren’t rich enough. you’ve been terrible to them too. don’t act like everything is their fault and you’re innocent.” “why’d you come back then huh?” rafe asks, stepping close to you so you have to angle your head up to look him in the eye. “why’d you come back if you love those fucking pogues so much.” “i love you, not them. you want to get better? then you need to see the error in your ways. the things youve done wrong, but i am not going to leave you, especially not for them.” “fuck.” rafe groans, leaning his forehead against yours. “you're right. i’m sorry.”

you hear a commotion and pull away suddenly. “we gotta go.” rafe says, retaking your hand in his. you run off the dock and towards the town, hoping to be protected by the crowd. 

you eventually find an alleyway that you can at least take the time to dry off in, letting the warm air and bright sun dry your clothes out.

“what’s the plan now, rafe?” you ask.

“you leave it to me, okay honey? i’m gonna figure out some food for you first.” “i can help.” you tell rafe. “i had to figure out how to survive without you, i am not completely incapable.” rafe rubs his eyes. “i know. i’ve just done so much to you already, i don’t want to put you through anything else. i love you, baby.” he kisses your forehead gently before holding you against his chest. you accept the hug, wrapping your arms around his waist while you simply enjoy that moment alone. 

“i know you can help but stay here for just a minute, okay? i’m going to go swipe a wallet so we can buy some food. i know you’re hungry.”

there’s no denying that rafe is right, and while you feel bad having him take from a stranger, you really need it. rafe comes back only a few minutes later with a wallet in his hand and someone else’s hat on his head.

“got this for you.” he hands you a hat as well to help cover your face. 

“what did you do?” you ask, noticing his bloody knuckles. “rafe-”

“please, don’t judge me for anything i do until you’re back home. i know you want me to get better but i can’t do that if either of us get retaken by mr. singh. okay?” “okay.” you whisper. “so are we getting food now?” “i’ve actually got a better idea.” rafe sticks his arm out for you to take and you accept it, curling your hand around his biceps as he leads you back towards the docks.

“just stand by me and be quiet and smiley okay? you’re my wife, mrs. tompkins.” you realize then that rafe is walking towards a cruise ship. your eyes are wide as you get in line, nervous you’re going to get caught, but you trust rafes charm.

“how you doing boss?” the man asks as rafe slides the hat off his head.

“good. how are you?” rafe asks as he hands over the stolen id, and you give the man the most even smile that you can manage.

“oh, living the dream.” he gives a nod at you. “you got some sun since you took this photo, man. there you go mr. tompkins, mrs tompkins.”

you’re relieved he doesn’t ask to see your id. you give him another smile as rafe leads you up the stairs. “holy fuck, rafe i can’t believe that worked.” “i know, we’re just gonna have to lay low, okay? i have hisvroom key but i’m sure they’re going to find a phone and call soon. we just have to hope that it’s after we reach the next port.”

--

“thank god.” you sigh as your foot finally lands on north carolina soil.

“we’re home.” rafe kisses your cheek, leading you towards a car that’s going to take you back to your house. rafe has been having people look after it, coming in once a week to clean and make sure nobody has broken in, but you’re only concerned right now about taking a long bath in your own tub and putting on your favorite pair of pajamas.

“i want to spend the next week inside my room.” you say excitedly as you sit down in the back seat of the car, rafe sliding in next to you.

“we can do that, princess.” he smiles, reaching across your body to do up your seatbelt. “i have some things i have to take care of, but you come first.”

“just promise me if you hear anything about john b or the pogues that you’ll help them out if you can. you owe that to them.”

“i will.” he squeezes your hand. “i promise.” you watch the familiar scenery as the car gets closer to your house, letting out a whimper when your own house comes into view. so many memories with your parents there all came flooding back, and you realize that you’re crying when rafe uses his thumb to wipe away your tears before helping you out of the car. he thanks the driver and leads you up the driveway, unlocking the door and then handing you the key, happy that it’s returning to your possession.

“hi mom, hi dad.” you whisper as you look at the picture of them placed on the entryway table. you pick it up and hold it close to your chest, and rafe must understand that you need a moment, waiting until you set the picture back down to lay a hand against your back, guiding you upstairs. 

“will you get in with me?” you ask as you turn the bath on, finding everything in the same place it was when rafe called you over that night, except for the laundry that was piling up in your basket is done, you assume put away.

“of course.” rafe helps you concoct your bath, knowing exactly what you like in it. a hefty scoop of epsom salt, some drops of lavender oil, activated coconut charcoal and some organic flowers and herbs that you love to sprinkle in as well.

as the large tub is filling, rafe helps you undress, peeling your tshirt off of you and tossing it onto the floor. he presses a line of kisses across your collarbone before he connects your lips, reaching behind you to take off your bra. your own hands move to the buttons on his shirt, undoing them so you can slide it off his shoulders.

“sit down for me, baby.” rafe says, and you sit down on the stool in the bathroom, letting him kneel down and take off your shoes, carefully untying the laces and then taking your socks off as well. he rubs the sole of your foot with his thumbs for a minute before you stand up to finish undressing. rafe is quick to get himself nude as well as you take off your pants.

rafe slides himself into the bath first, letting you get in between his legs, thankful the tub is large enough to stretch out. you lean your head against his chest, closing your eyes and letting all of the tension out of your body.

“love you so much, my perfect girl.” rafe says, kissing the top of your head. you smile, a real, true smile that feels unfamiliar because of how long it’s been.

you both grow silent, occasionally moving just to readjust. you take rafes hand in yours after a couple minutes, lacing your fingers together.

“rafe… did they clean my parents room?” you ask.

“no.” he shakes his head. “i told them to leave it alone, not even to dust.”

“thank you.” you whisper, closing your eyes and letting the bath soothe your sore muscles. you know eventually you need to venture into their space, but it’s still too fresh for you. you also know that when it is time, you’ll have rafe by your side.

rafe brings his hand up to your shoulders, and you sit up a bit as he massages them, and then down to your back. rafe always takes such good care of you, you see every good thing inside of him that he only lets you view.

you turn around suddenly, pressing your lips against rafes. “you’re not a bad guy.” you tell him.

rafe goes to shake his head, but you stop him. “you’re not a bad guy, rafe. a bad guy would have left me when my parents died and i wasn’t able to get out of bed for a month. a bad guy wouldn’t care so deeply for his family that he’d do anything for them. you’re not a bad guy. i see your heart.”

rafe tugs you onto his lap, holding you close to his body, letting a few tears fall. “i see you.” you whisper, wrapping your arms around him. you stay close until the bathwater starts to cool down. you finally pick your head up and give rafe a gentle smile.

you both get out of the bath and rafe insists on drying you off, gently patting the towel over your arms, torso, and then legs. you quickly blast your hair with a hairdryer just so it isn’t completely wet for bed.

it’s so natural, this routine with rafe. it's almost like the past two months never happened, like your life was never changed forever that night he texted you.

you head into the bedroom, rafe following quickly behind you. you get out your favorite pair of matching pajamas. your parents had a tradition of gifting you pajamas every christmas eve, and it continued all the way up until you were an adult. your favorite pair is now the last pair they will ever get to give you. you hug them close to your chest but don’t put them on yet. while you’ve reconnected with rafe, there’s a way that you haven’t reconnected yet that you’ve been craving, needing to finally feel right again.

“baby, we don’t have to.” rafe says as you set your pajamas down on the nightstand for after.

“i want to rafe. i want you.” you kiss him, pressing your bare body against his.

“if you’re too tired…” rafe begins, even as you feel him swelling against your abdomen.

“i’m not. i promise. i need this rafe.”

“on the bed then, princess.” rafe says. you smile and let yourself fall onto the bed, arranging your head so it’s on the pillows. even though you’ve slept in a bed since you left, there’s nothing like your own. you can practically feel the way it molds into your body.

rafe hovers at the edge of the bed like he’s steadying himself mentally as he looks over your body, the scar on your hip from when you fell on the island bringing a whole new pang of guilt, but he pushes it down, for you.

“my goddamn perfect girl.” rafe says, getting on top of you and kissing your lips, gently at first, before deepening the kiss. you groan when he pulls away after a minute. you could kiss him forever, but he quickly makes up for it by kissing along your jaw, then your neck, taking the time to suck a hickey onto the sensitive skin. 

you shiver at the feeling of getting marked by him. rafe continues lower, taking your breasts into his hand as one of his tongues laves over your nipple, hardening it into a stiff peak before sucking it between his lips. here closes his eyes and relishes in the feeling and the taste of your soft skin.

he keeps his tongue against your chest as he switches to the other side, repeating the action on that breast. he takes a second to press his head against your chest, right over your heart. he listens to your heartbeat, the one that he almost lost because of his actions. he turns his head and presses a kiss there. a silent vow. to never put you in harms way again.

he moves lower, laying himself between your legs. he takes a moment to rub his thumb over your scar. it’s just a light pink scrape now, made by a sharp but small rock. rafe kisses it as well. he would kiss every inch of your body if he wasn’t so drawn to between your legs.

he knows he should be more patient. more gentle, but when you spread your legs wider for him, he presses his tongue directly against your core, lapping up every drop of wetness that had gathered. you let out a moan at the sudden feeling, not expecting rafe to dive into your pussy that quickly.

“love this taste.” rafe mumbles before licking over your clit. hes going to take his role as a boyfriend even more seriously after what he put you through. give you every ounce of pleasure that he can, and even that won’t make up for what he did. not in his mind. he will be forever trying to apologize.

“rafe, oh my god.” you moan as he sucks on your clit like it’s his favorite candy before flicking his tongue over it. it’s been so long since you’ve had any action that you know you’re bound to cum too soon, but you have plenty of time to go at it over and over again with rafe now that you’re home.

rafe presses a finger against your entrance, not wanting your hole to feel left out as he pays special attention to your clit. he looks up at you for permission, and you give him a quick nod. 

rafe takes your clit back in his mouth as he begins to press in, feeling your tight warmth envelop his digit. he keeps it still inside of you for a moment, not sure how much extra attention and time you will need before taking his cock. you haven’t gone a week without sex since you started dating, it’s certainly different now and he doesn’t want to accidentally put you through any pain.

he waits until your body relaxes completely before he starts to pump his finger inside and out. in an effort to not overwhelm you, he gives your clit a kiss and then turns his attention to your thighs, giving them some love as well. you appreciate the break in the stimulation, knowing you would have cum far too quickly for your liking.

“hows it feel? we can stop.” rafe asks, checking in on you.

“no, don’t stop.” you say, gripping the bed sheets. “add a second finger, please.”

rafe smirks, loving that you’re as desperate for him as he is for you. he is careful about adding a second finger, letting the thumb of his other hand rub over your clit ever so slightly as he does so, that way you stay relaxed.

when he finally gets both fingers pumping inside of you, he can’t resist the urge anymore, licking around his fingers to collect as much of your slick as he can on your tongue. he wasn’t kidding when he said he loves your taste.

“raaafe.” you moan, having resisted the urge to direct him to what you want, but you can’t anymore, taking his head in your hands and guiding his mouth to your clit. you feel rafe smirk against you for the briefest moment before his mouth parts and sucks your bud in between his lips.

you close your eyes, as much as you want to enjoy the sight between your legs, you’re simply in too much pleasure. rafe keeps his sucking soft at first, but he intensifies quickly, needing to be inside of you.

“close!” you warn rafe. it’s all you can do before he has you cumming, hips lifting off the bed as your body shakes, muscles tightening as he continues to pump his fingers through your orgasm. stars shine in your eyes as you blink them open, looking down as rafe gives your clit a few more kitten licks.

“are you ready for me?” rafe asks. you wanted to ride him originally, but your body is so blissed out you know you’re not capable of it. 

“ready, rafe.” you say with a nod. he drapes himself over your body, sliding his cock over your soaked pussy, coating himself in your juices. 

“shh.” rafe tells you when you let out a whine, wanting him to hurry up. “be patient pretty baby.”

fuck patience, you think to yourself, reaching down and taking rafes thick cock in your hand, pressing the head against your entrance. he takes over from there, your hand dropping away as he presses inside of you. you moan at the feeling of pure togetherness. rafe lets out a deep moan as he pushes all the way in.

“just… hang on for a sec, babe.” rafe says, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths as he controls his sudden urge to immediately cum, but he knows he has to give you your pleasure first. 

you accept rafes kiss when he bends down to connect your lip, letting out a sudden moan when he begins to move, thrusting in and out of you at a rapid pace.

“fuck, yes, yes.” you cry out. you grip onto rafes shoulders, hoping you don’t hurt him as you squeeze tightly, needing to hold onto him as his hips press into yours.

rafe lets out a series of moans as you tighten your pussy around him. you’re so sensitive, the way he is hitting your clit with every thrust.

rafe presses his lips to your neck, more using it as a block for his constant moans than to actually kiss it. you close your eyes, relaxing into the feeling, the feeling of being joined together with rafe, of seeking pleasure in each others bodies. 

“gonna take care of you babygirl.” rafe says, and you know he means more than just bring you to your orgasm.

“never gonna hurt you ever again.” the intensity of his thrusts increase, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“never gonna let anyone else hurt you ever again.” he gives your neck a nip with his teeth. “you’re mine.” a hard thrust. “you’re mine to protect.” 

he brings his head up so he can connect your lips together, letting all of his passion and frustration out in your kiss. “you’re mine to love.”

“i love you, rafey.” you tell him. you never want to stop telling him.

“i love you, baby.” rafe says, wrapping his arms around your waist as his thrusts increase, pressing so deep and hard into your body that you feel like you’re splitting open.

you drop a hand to rub at your clit when you feel his cock start to pulse, signaling that he’s close. 

“cum in me.” you ask rafe. you haven’t been able to take your birth control, but you’ll have him run out and get you a plan b in the morning. you need to feel him fill you up.

“are you sure?” rafe asks, face straining and veins popping as he holds back his quickly incoming orgasm until you give a nod of approval. rafe explodes in a burst, letting out loud moans and grunts as he rocks his hips into yours. the second you feel his warm cum, you also cum, fingers rubbing aggressively over your clit as it pulses, sending shocks of pleasure over your body.

you come down from your orgasm together, rafe slowing his hips and the eventually pulling out, smiling as he watches his cum start to drip out of your pussy, but he cleans it with a towel on your bedside table before it can get the sheets anymore dirty.

“want me to clean you up?” rafe asks as you stretch, knowing you need to go pee.

“i can do it.” you kiss rafe gently before heading into the bathroom. once you’ve taken care of your business you head back out, giggling at rafe already having his eyes closed and head against the pillow. you pull on your christmas pajamas before laying down next to him.

rafe tugs you tight to his body, letting you rest your head against his chest. “i love you rafe.” you tilt your head so you can kiss his bare skin. “thank you for getting me home.”

“i love you more, princess.”