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tonycries · 7 months ago

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The Way You Kiss Me - G.S.

Synopsis. The four times Satoru tries really hard not to kiss you - his best friend’s pretty younger sister. And the one time he doesn’t.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! Suguru’s sister! reader, childhood enemies to lovers, PINING Satoru, like really really disgustingly down bad, creampíe, oral (fem receiving), pússytalking, needy JEALOUS! Satoru, running away from it, spítting, punching is Suguru’s love language, mentions of aIcohol, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 7.4k (That’s wild)

A/N. BOO! Surprise upload. This was so fun to write omg.

“You sure this is how the grown-ups get married?”

“Duh, I know everything.”

“Nuh uh, Toru.”

“Yuh uh!”

The first time Gojo Satoru kissed you was underneath that dingy playground slide that the two of you always raced to after elementary school.

Usually, your older brother, Suguru, would walk home alongside you two - but this time, he’d just so happened to have been held back for throwing paper planes at the teacher that day.

A sign from the universe, Satoru internally celebrated, something he’d learned from those sappy romance novels his mother left lying around the house. No matter that he was the one that made those planes.

You were six back then, standing in front of a determined Satoru - reaching up on his tip-toes, face pink, smelling of those cheap strawberry lollipops he’d sneak into class and taunt you with. At the much older and wiser age of seven, he’d insisted on being the first one to lean in.

Just barely even grazing your dramatically puckered lips before-

Satoru learned two things that fateful afternoon:

Even as a seven-year-old, Suguru’s punches really hurt.

Never mess with you. Anyone but you.

Life only seemed to go downhill from there - because that last lesson was proving to be hard along the years. Really. Fucking. Hard.

Little did Satoru know that this would be the start of some strange, unpredictable little dance of push and pull. No, you definitely weren’t his wife. Nor were you exactly best friends - not really, that spot was reserved for your brother. But you didn’t think you could ever be just that either.

And the punch that’d knocked his wobbly tooth out onto the playground floor that day was a painful reminder that whatever that was - whatever weird thoughts he had later in middle school about how you’d tasted like candy - didn’t matter. No matter how part some tucked-away little part of him wanted it to.

Hell, eleven years later and Satoru still can’t walk around that familiar block without feeling slightly queasy. Which is why, after that failed first kiss, he knew there wouldn’t be a second.

Instead, he settles back to teasing your pouty self, pushing all your buttons, tugging on those cute dresses you wore. Face burning so strangely with- humiliation? when you bickered right back, calling his haircut a “tragic attempt at modern art.”

“So you’re saying I look like art?” A gangly, now-seventeen Satoru blocks the bustling high school hallway, ignoring the bell. Grin only growing at your frustrated huff, he half-jokes, “Aww, if you’re that soft on me, sweetheart, maybe we should go to prom tog-”

You slam your locker, effectively shutting both it and Satoru at the same time. “I’d rather go with Yaga.”

“...you would not.”

“Would to.”

“Would not.”

“Would to.”

“Would- Sugu–!”

And all Suguru can do is wrap two hands around his neck, mock-choking himself, wondering if it was really too late to embrace a quiet life as a monk. “You’ll both be MLA cited in my farewell note.”

He was used to it, though, forced to watch all this chaos since quickly mending his friendship with Satoru over ice cream the day after the punch. Convinced that this was some punishment for a past life’s misdeed.

With a squawk of protest, Satoru’s turning back to you, eyes crinkling with a hint of mischief you knew too well, “Would not.”

Your face burns, “Would to, Toru.”

You didn’t go with Yaga. but Satoru didn’t exactly count that as a win in his books, either, because you did show up that night hanging off the arm of some jerk from the football team.

And there you were, all dolled up - which he very objectively noted - way too prettily for some bastard like him. Stars in your eyes, and everything he couldn’t have in that smile.

Everything.

Way too gorgeous, even when he finds you sitting outside the gymnasium later on in the night. Too busy bawling your mascara off to even throw out your usual greeting insult his way. Murmuring out wetly about “that asshole” and how he humiliated you by stranding you in the middle of the dance floor for someone else.

“Well, he was a jerk anyway. Even Yaga would’ve been better, hell, I-” Satoru stops short to his horror at the way you only cry harder.

Way too irresistible, especially as his body moves before his mind - holding out an open hand before he knows it. “I’m a much better dancer than him and you.” And oh Satoru will forever remember the way his heart lurches as you blink your teary eyes up in confusion, “Well, aren’t ya gonna take up the challenge?”

Weirdly, it wasn’t weird at all.

If anything, you had to hold back your laughter the entire time at the way the great “campus sweetheart” Gojo Satoru was so on edge.

Just a friend comforting a friend, right?

So why was he avoiding your gaze with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, summer blue eyes pointedly trained right over your head. That pretty pink blush dusting his cheeks reflecting the hands hovering in midair over your waist. So close - and yet, fear in each and every turn and swirl.

Yours were searing into his broad shoulders as you tried to guide him to the muffled music from inside. And shit.

That night ended with a second kiss.

You don’t know who leaned in first, just that Satoru’s soft lips were just fleeting on your glossy ones - barely even a touch. And that shit shit shit- this was Satoru. This was you.

Everything.

But it seems that every time Satoru was about to kiss you dangerously close to the way some tiny, forbidden part of his heart wanted to - the universe throws an obstacle at him. An obstacle that was six feet and named “Suguru”, currently running at break-neck speed out of the gym.

“MOVE YOUR ASSES!” he cackles, “THE FOOTBALL TEAM ISN’T TOO HAPPY ABOUT ME BREAKING THEIR STAR PLAYER’S NOSE.”

And not a word is uttered about the kiss as the three of you speed out of the school parking lot in Suguru’s busted-up black hellcat, the wind mussing up the hairstyle that took Satoru over two hours to perfect. Sneaking in glances at the sight of you singing along at the top of your lungs to some overplayed pop song on the radio.

He learns another two things that night:

Apparently, Suguru’s right hook still really fucking hurt. And thank god for tonight’s casualties of noses, because it was a wonder that he didn’t look too hard at how close Satoru was with you.

He didn’t…dislike the feeling of your lips on his. And judging by the way you meet his eyes in the rearview mirror - you didn’t either.

It’s mainly that last one that makes him gulp.

Neither of you remember the third kiss - though, Satoru’s sure that at least 80% of Shoko’s instagram followers did.

According to a very hungover Shoko, and the many, many forms of documentation, it had happened on the New Year’s eve during your third year in university. In which you were much more used to the raging parties that would be hosted at Suguru’s apartment, and only slightly less intimidated by them.

“And you’re a lightweight too, dumbass. You were gone.” Shoko sighs from across the café table, eye bags deeper than the last time he’d seen her. “Like gone gone.”

God, what a way to start the year.

Satoru bites back a remark about how “gone” Shoko herself had been. Sitting up straight in his seat, regret immediately hitting his senses faster than the guilty throbbing at his temples. He winces, managing out a semi-disbelieving groan of, “Gone gone?”

And she’s only nodding wearily, subconsciously tapping out the rest of her cigarette ashes onto his untouched plate of sweet pastries.

“I’m talking dancing on expensive coffee tables and fighting to stop you from giving everyone there a strip show.” She cracks a smirk through a waft of smoke, “Though, she would’ve loved that I’m sure.”

“Har har har, you’d make even Nanami laugh with that one.”

“Eugh, gross.” Shoko taps through her phone briefly, swirling it around to show Satoru a few pictures that definitely gave him a mini-heart attack at 8:57 in the morning. “You look like you’re about to pen really bad poetry.”

And perhaps this was Shoko’s plan all along - to shock Satoru to the core hard enough that she can note it down as one of her sketchy psychological experiments.

But he knew. Could feel it in the hazy fragments of memories - or, at the very least, in that entire highlight that Nanamin had oh-so-conveniently put up on Instagram titled, “Blackmail.”

You knew.

You’d kissed him back.

“I don’t have a-.” you slur, stumbling ever-so-slightly as you try to meet Satoru’s glassy eyes. Because shit the years have had him shooting up faster than you could look up. “-a New Year’s kiss, y’know.”

You were older - more gorgeous, if that was even possible now. That tight dress hugging your body so unfairly in a way that had him forgetting you were his best friend’s sister.

The one person in this whole world that he couldn’t have.

But Satoru leans in closer, more because he wants to than anything - he could pick out your voice anywhere let alone over the thumping music currently filling his crowded living room. Lips loose as he tries to play up the cool-guy facade he’s been dubbed with since freshman year, “Hah, loser. Because I do.”

“Where?”

At this, Satoru is stumped - damn, you were good.

“Not- uh here?” If he was in any clearer state of mind, he’d have been embarrassed at the way his voice cracks so traitorously as your unsteady hands pull him in closer by his overpriced button-up.

Your body was flush against his now, so addictive. Gaze half-lidded and flickering between the sliver of milky skin exposed on his chest - from that impromptu striptease he’d almost started earlier - and the blue eyes that were currently locked you. You whisper a strained, “Liar.”

Close - too close. So dangerously close.

He breathes out against your lips, the smell of booze and you so heady in his mind. And the heavy words falling from his lips sound like lies, even to him. “Not.”

“Toru?” you hum, a sound that has him gasping. “Shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And there went your New Year’s kisses. At exactly 11:37PM, if the photos were anything to go by.

And holy shit were there many. All of which showed your arms looped around Satoru’s neck, crashing his lips to yours. His own, resting against your waist, a scandalously red blush - whether from the alcohol or you - adorning his cheeks. Looking more blissed out than he ever remembers feeling.

“I’m a dead man, Shoko.”

There’s a lengthy silence, leaving Satoru stewing in thoughts of how Suguru would react once he finds out. And whether or not he’d be able to rise from the dead just to see how pretty you’d look at his funeral.

Morbid thoughts broken only by Shoko’s cough, “Hey, can I keep your eyes for experimentation if he actually catches you?”

Subtly, he sends himself those photos from last night.

Luckily for Satoru’s eyes, they never ended up being donated towards Shoko’s questionable contributions to the world of medicine.

And by some grace of the gods above, Suguru never mentioned a word about the kiss that would’ve inevitably made its way to him. Or maybe it was because Satoru stole his phone until he managed to pester Nanami just enough to take down that highlight. But, semantics.

His heart, however, might as well have been part of some experiment.

Because it’s been working overdrive since that night - mind reliving that moment over and over and over and- shit, he’s fucked. So, so fucked.

Fucked enough that it took Satoru months just to muster up to even look in your pretty eyes once more, unless he wanted to get lost in them forever. Fucked enough that he dared to wonder again and again when there might be a fourth kiss - if there would be a fourth kiss.

He just never thought it would happen the way it did - with you, standing outside his front door.

“I’m sorry, Toru.” you mumble, “It’s just- I think we both need to grow up.”

You’ve freshly graduated now, looking more and more irresistible each time he sees you - even when you’re looking at him like that.

Rolling his eyes, “Ha, is this another way of saying you want my secret to getting taller? Because the first thing is to-”

“I’m serious, Satoru.”

And oh how he wished you’d say something - anything - else right now. Call him anything but that. Maybe even throw an insult his way, tell him those new sunglasses look ugly, or about how you got that internship he would’ve died for.

Satoru manages to choke out a heavy, “I don’t understand.” But that uncomfortable coil of something curling at the pit of his stomach said otherwise. And it causes him to finally breathe out a hesitant, “Maybe you’re right.”

As if that was all the answer you needed, you’re stepping out of the front door. Slow, and deliberate like you were giving him another chance - a thousand more. Sighing out a defeated, “It’s been years.” It has. “And we’re just running in circles.” You have. “I’m starting to think this is just some game to you.” It wasn’t.

“Wait!” he grasps your hand - soft. The look in your eyes even softer as you turn around to face his desperate face. “Please, sweetheart.”

Satoru doesn’t even know what words he wants to say - let alone whether they’d come out of his heavy mouth.

So, instead, he’s crashing them into yours.

Brief. Fleeting. Like each one before this. Too addictive, too short, that he thinks he’s almost imagining it as you pull away gently, until he sees that look in your eyes.

“Toru, I have a date.”

The fourth kiss.

Satoru’s letting go of you like it burned - and, truly, it felt like some deep, dark part of him was burning down right now. “Great.” That should be hm that should be him that should be- “I’m…happy for you.”

And the last.

He fucked up.

He really, really fucked up.

That first date turned into a second. The second into a third. And unfortunately for Gojo, eventually, you were nearing your one-year anniversary with that asshat you’d met during the early days of your internship.

He’d seen the man himself once, briefly at another one of Suguru’s famous parties. Ducking out of sight before he could be introduced, yet long enough to know that he wasn’t as tall, or as handsome, or as absolutely fucking hilarious.

What did he have that Satoru didn’t?

The answer to that, Satoru’s reminded of every time he’s causing ruckus over at Suguru’s apartment, and sees you walking out of your room, tittering on the phone to none other than your boyfriend. So gorgeous. So not his.

You, that loser had you.

“If you sigh again I swear I’m shoving this popcorn up your a-”

“It’s a sad movie, Suguru!” he defends, draped across your couch at another one of those movie nights you loved to organize. As usual, there was the popcorn, the god-awful movie (if Satoru picks it), and the arguments. The only thing missing, however, was you. Ugh, something about an “anniversary” and a “seafood date”. Seriously, it’s not like you even enjoyed that new seafood restaurant in town, and he’s sure that bastard didn’t know-

“Satoru.” his best friend’s deadpan voice cuts through his little reverie. “We’re watching Mean Girls.”

And he’s barely even opening his mouth to snark back before-

SLAM!

Suguru pauses the movie almost immediately, turning to the direction of the front door. “Uh oh.”

And lo and behold - there was you in all your pissed off, beautiful glory. Throwing your keys on the table, your fiery glare passes over the two men as you stomp to your bedroom.

“Seafood wasn’t that good, sweetheart?” Satoru calls out behind you, eyes sweeping down your figure. Heart stuttering in his chest when you turn around with your fists clenched, lower lip wobbling in a way that Satoru would both kill whoever made you feel this way and die to be on the other side of those daggers in your eye.

Sniffing out an icy, “Fuck off, loser and loserette.”

Then in a whirlwind of rage, you’re gone - your bedroom door slamming only slightly more gently than you’d done with the front door. Leaving a deafening silence, and Satoru whining, “Why am I the loserette?”

“Deserved.” Suguru shrugs. Warily eyeing your door, as if it was about to pounce at any given second, “Let her cool down before you give her an aneurysm at least.” Unpausing the television, propping his feet back up, “S’enough having to deal with you on top of a boyfriend like that.”

And that has Satoru perking up in interest - both figuratively, and literally as he snatches the remote and pauses the movie. “Wait wait wait what-” Holding it way out of Suguru’s reach, “What do you mean a ‘boyfriend like that’?”

Scoffing, “Funny. Now give me back the remote.”

A beat of silence passes. One. Two.

Only then does it dawn on Suguru that this might just not be some strange prank to stroke Satoru’s ego, and he was actually more serious than he’d ever seen him. Damn.

“Bro, have you really never met the guy or something? He’s a complete tool. I don’t know what happened, but this breakup was a long time coming.”

Satoru blinks, feeling a red hot surge of anger. “What? Seriously? Why didn’t you do anything about it?”

“You think I didn’t try?” he sighs, running a hand through his hair at the other’s uncharacteristic silence. “Hah, and just imagine, the man was talking about marriage, too. As if.”

And suddenly, Satoru’s hit with an image of you walking down the aisle. Not something he was a stranger to, but it still takes him aback. The sway of the fabric beneath his fingers, your lips against his. Hell, in that split-second he even dreams up how Nanamin would be crying very reluctant tears of joy.

Everything. Everything that wasn’t his.

His fist tightens around the remote, until he could hear the cracking of plastic. Mind whirling with the thought of you and him and you. How he wished it was him and you. “I would’ve been better.”

Oh.

Shit.

“I- fuck this. Suguru, since elementary school I…”

And, well, Satoru’s so busy putting that extra physics seminar he took in university to work - trying to calculate the odds of surviving a jump out of this seven-storey window - that he almost misses Suguru’s low hum, a distant, almost barely-audible little interruption, “Well duh.”

“Hold on.” he’s snatching away the remote that had somehow slithered its way into the other’s hands once again. Ignoring his best friend’s croak of protests to pause in the middle of Regina George being hit by the bus - which, he felt was strangely enviable right now. “That was- what? YOU KNOW?”

“Huh? Even my parents know, the only one that doesn’t is her.”

“...”

Satoru didn’t know how Suguru seemed so calm, but he felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. Heart stuttering in his chest as he sideglances at your firmly shut door - like he was just waiting for you to jump out and tell him this was some elaborate prank.

Begging for you to come - it would’ve hurt less.

But you don’t.

Fuck.

And the only response he gets is a low whistle, before a phone is being shoved in his face - flashlight illuminating that crimson blush. “Damn, the great Gojo Satoru speechless? The groupchat is gonna love this, might even send it to my sister, y’know.”

He didn’t care - didn’t give a shit if this video made rounds to Gakuganji himself. Only one thought racing through his mind right now.

“But why aren’t you punching me like in elementary school?”

And Satoru knows he’s smart - intelligent even. Hell, he was the valedictorian, the youngest employee to claw their way up to being on the board of directors. But he’s never felt more stupid when Suguru breathes out a bewildered, “Dude. That was for blaming me for the paper planes.”

“Oh.”

Then the movie is unpaused.

---

The last time you kissed Gojo Satoru was at the doorstep to that overpriced penthouse of his, exactly a year ago today.

The last time you saw Gojo Satoru was just a few hours ago, lounging around your living room like he owned it. Honestly, he might as well have been part of the furniture at this point - like some expensive, fluffy couch. One that prattled on about your “dumbass boyfriend” and god-knows-what else to rile you up just for the fun of it.

Which is why it was odd to step out of your bedroom - eyes just a bit puffy, throat still tight - to a suspiciously quiet hallway.

The lights were turned off, nothing but the pouring rain sounding from outside, television paused on some rerun of The Princess Diaries. Damn, you told those idiots not to start that one without you.

“Sugu?” you call, finding his bedroom empty. “Thought tonight was movie night?” Padding across the empty apartment, contemplating whether or not to get your phone and call him when-

Ding!

Ah, there.

You roll your eyes as you head towards the front door, ready to give Suguru a piece of his mind for going out at this ungodly hour and forgetting his key. Seriously, what if you opened the door and he was hurt, or worse, or…

Satoru.

Speaking a mile a minute.

Satoru.

“-florist was closed and the store clerk looked at me like I was crazy but I got this for-” he pauses abruptly, as if realizing something with a jolt. “-you.”

“You- what-” you don’t know where to look - at the drenched, disheveled Satoru filling your doorframe - rain in his hair, curtaining his frantic eyes, drenching his snug t-shirt. Or at the obscenely large bouquet of cheap strawberry lollipops being placed gently into your arms.

What follows was an electric silence - and you have half the mind to tease Satoru for finally shutting the fuck up for once in his life.

But, no. Instead, you eye the way he stands stubbornly at the doorway, fists clenched, blue eyes locked so intensely on yours that it was like they burned.

Face flushed a familiar pretty pink that makes you realize that shit, he might be taller, voice deeper, broad shoulders tight against his t-shirt - but this was still the same boy that cried when you stole his favorite Digimon card in middle school. The same one that kissed you underneath a dingy slide, smelling of strawberry lollipops.

It’s the steady tap! tap! tap! of the water droplets from his hair that have you tearing your traitorous eyes from his see-through white t-shirt.

Guess you’ve both done some growing up since then.

“You loser.”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

The pink wrapping of the bouquet rustles as your grip tightens. “He proposed to me today, y’know.” and yet, your quiet, even voice was the only thing ringing in Satoru’s ears. He jolts, as if some visceral, primal part of himself had been poked awake. Breathing heavy, fists clenching until he could feel the neat indents of his fingernails on his palm. Of course. He’s late. He’s late he’s late he’s late-

That is, until you’re plowing on, “I said no.”

“Huh?”

You think back to the stuffy restaurant, the man sitting from across from you - how wrong it felt. And all it took were those four words for you to realize that. “I said no.”

Satoru snaps his head up, stepping close - so close. Voice strained like he wasn’t asking - begging. Praying, “Why?”

“We…” you raise a brow at the way Satoru flinches as you trail off. So desperate. A smirk makes its way onto your face, “...we haven’t divorced yet, right?”

And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you.

Fuck, you don’t know - nor do you really care right now. Not when Satoru’s got his lips crashing against yours for the fifth time in your life, kissing you like it would be the last. Big arms dipping down to your waist, pulling you so tight against his muscled frame that he had half the mind to wonder whether it hurt.

“Love this. Love the way you kiss me- fuck-” he’s spitting against your lips, kicking the door shut behind him. “Oh- would ya get mad if I-” he tries to get out through kisses. Only to suck on your pretty lips with a pained grunt. “If I-” Again and again, like it killed him to part. “-hah- celebrated right now?”

“Yes.” You’re letting the bouquet fall to the foor, white-knuckling that useless, drenched excuse of a shirt. “Now kiss me properly, Toru.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Such a sloppy mix of teeth and hands and him. Shoving a knee between your legs, making up for years and years of late nights with nothing but his fist and the pretty thought of you.

“Yeah, that’s it, sweetheart.” Satoru breathes out, as your urgent fingers that dispose of his shirt, feeling the gorgeous dips and curves of years of hard work to impress you. “Suck on m’tongue pretty- fuck-” His own fisting your shirt, pulling. Ripping.

“Toru!”

“I want you.” He’s letting the poor, tattered pieces drop in a pile on the floor, trailing a hand between your damp thighs before he can stop himself. “Oh how I’ve wanted you. And I don’t care if I have to buy fifty new outfits to make up for it.”

And it’s the feeling of his long index stroking up your sopping slit through your shorts that has you pulling away with a gasp. Delicate little strings of saliva snapping from Satoru’s kiss-bitten lips. “If we continue like this…” your voice wavers as he presses hot kisses along your collarbone. “-my brother’s gonna walk in.”

“...wouldn’t wanna relive that playground kiss, huh?”

It’s all he says before picking you up so easily, hands resting on your ass. Giving a playful spank ass you wrap your legs around his toned waist.

And it’s sloppy.

Both his lips still hotly on yours and the way he’s stumbling urgently to your room through pure muscle memory. Pulling away only when you’re all splayed out so prettily for him on your mattress.

“Blue?” he breathes, pulling your shorts off. And it comes out strained - like the very sight of your panties - all soaked and flimsy with your slick - has whatever’s remaining of Satoru’s sanity flying out the window. “Blue? Oh, you’ve gotta have planned this, you little minx.” his hot breath hits your cunt as he shifts down the bed, tongue drawing languid, wet little circles on your inner thigh. “Because don’t tell me this was all for him?”

It was coincidence - or maybe fate - but that doesn’t stop you from giving Satoru a slow, teasing nod. Muttering out, “So what if it was?”

The only answer you get is thumb hooked around your shorts, pulling it just enough so that your brother’s best friend can spy your pretty pussy.

“Well then.” he chuckles at the way you jump when his fingertip just barely grazes your clit. “Guess I jus’ hafta prove m’better.”

A low groan is falling from his lips as soon as they meet your puffy ones, giving your pretty clit a chaste peck. Lingering long enough that he’s sure your sweet sweet juices cover his mouth.

And oh Satoru’s sure he’ll never forget the way your jaw falls slack, glassy eyes following his every move as he runs his tongue along his glossy lips. Savoring your candied taste, “Never kissed you like this before, huh?”

Fuck, you’re sweeter than he’s imagined.

You whine desperately, something that has him smirking smugly, “Hah, what? Cat got your tongue?”

“You’re better when you shut up.” It’s all you can do to buck your hips into Satoru’s pretty face - not that you had to, because one taste of your dripping cunt and he was addicted. Surging forwards until he was nose-deep, locking your ankles around his head with a firm yank.

And you can’t lie - maybe you’ve imagined this exact scene a few times before on those lonely nights. But you just never expected Satoru to be so depraved. Desperate.

“Ngh- fuck, Toru-” you reach a hand down to thread your fingers through his hair, tugging his face up. But Satoru doesn’t stop - not even for a second. Tongue still dipping to spread your swollen folds with his tongue, looking you right in the eyes as he murmurs a strangled, “Mhm?”

“Thought you were gonna prove you’re better, hm?”

So goading. So like you.

At this, Satoru pulls back ever-so-slightly to laugh - laugh. His plump, glistening lips curling into a humorless little grin, “Oh I will.” Thumb circling your throbbing clit. Just dragging your twitching body across the silky sheets close to his, one hand pinning your hips down. Hard. “I will.”

Loving his new favorite place between your legs one hand toys with your clit, quick, messy little patterns. Tongue even more so.

“Not just better.” he grunts, “Gonna make you cum so much harder, too.” Having your thighs shake with each word hissed out into your cunt, each turn of his deft fingers. “Till I’m the only thing on your mind. Me.”

And it’s all you can do to let out choked up groans of his name, back arching off the plush mattress to let him make out with your cunt deeper. Sloppier. So, so starved with the way he’s speeding up, tongue dragging across your walls. In and out in and out in and-

“Fuck! Hngh-” you angle his head - and he lets you. “There- Toru-”

Honestly, you didn’t even have to tell Satoru - he could feel it. Could feel it in the way your plushy walls are squeezing his hot tongue so harsh, until it was almost difficult to fuck your pussy so sloppily. In the way you’re letting out such delicious whines each time he grazes against those sweet spots.

“There? Hah- I know.” he pulls away to muse, and your cute, disappointed whine goes straight to his already rock-hard cock. “Did he?”

He didn’t. And you’re shaking your head so pathetically - in a way you’d be embarrassed about usually.

But that’s the last thing you’re thinking bout because you feel it - the cold, sinful feeling of Satoru spitting on your filthy cunt. Once. Twice. Blue eyes widening in delight at the way the mess of spit and slick drip down your slit.

“Cute.” his tongue smoothes over the slutty pool, and the only thing your delirious brain can make out now is a low moan of, “So? Who’s better?”

It’s all you can do to choke out a broken little, “T-T-” Face burning at the way he was so clearly enjoying your struggle. And, well, no matter painfully hard it made his dick - he had to go just a bit easy on his girl, right?

“Shhhh, s’alright.” you flinch as he shoves two absolutely drenched fingers into your mouth, making so much more of a mess of it than necessary. Drinking in your cute gags, “I was asking her.” He’s making your head spin with the way he’s speeding up. “N’ she’s hah- very talkative.” Words muffled, and slurring together - like he was drunk off of you and your cunt. “Let’s hear what she has to ngh- say, huh?”

And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and squeezing into your sloppy entrance - like he couldn’t - didn’t - want to make up his mind. Oh, with your teary mewls strangled, the sound of Satoru making out with cunt is so loud. The squelches so obscene.

“Fuuuuck.” he drawls. “Louder than I thought. I think she says I’m better, don’t you think?”

You angle your head just right to catch the way his jaw grinds deeper into you, eating you out like his last meal. Your slick drooling down his chin so sinfully.

“Ngh- fuck fuck fuck- ngh-” your yelps are dreamy, feeling like you were losing your mind with the way he was stretching you out.

Like you were about to snap. Any second now.

But Satoru’s only increasing his movements, drawing out your little moans. “And I think she’s saying…” Getting sloppier. More erratic - and it didn’t matter if his fingers were cramping up now, cock aching with the need to be inside you. “-that she’s about to cum.”

You do - so hard and loud - both you and your cunt.

You’re shaking, all but gushing all over Satoru’s mouth, tight pussy squeezing his tongue so hard. Barely even realizing the searing grip you’ve got on his hair as you drag your sloppy pussy all over his mouth.

But Satoru doesn’t mind - he gladly welcomes it, in fact. Tonguefucking your snug cunt senselessly, letting you chase your high as roughly as you wanted. Over and over.

Even when you’re vision isn’t as spotty as before, even when nothing’s coming out of your mouth but little whimpers. Your breathing dying down until all that rings in your barely-lucid mind were those obscene noises of Satoru’s lips all on yours.

“T-Toru-” you whine, big fat tears pricking at your hazy eyes. “M’so sensitive.”

And of course this is Satoru, the same boy who’s been pushing your buttons for years just to giggle at your adorable reactions. Which is why he grins against your twitching cunt, “So?”

It takes everything in you to raise your head off the pillow that just seemed to be swallowing you whole, and even more to shoot Satoru a half-hearted glare. “So m’gonna ngh- assume you’re jus’ a pussy with a s-smaller dick than-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence - he doesn’t let you. Because Satoru’s fumbling with his belt, peeling off those still-drenched pants just enough for you to admire his clothed erection.

And, shit, admittedly you expected him to have a big dick - having been subjected to way too much locker room talk with your brother - but this was ridiculous.

“What? Too big?” He flashes you that infuriating grin. Palming his rock-hard cock through his boxers at the way your beautiful eyes trace the outline of his cock, all swollen and big. So intimidatingly big. “Damn, sweetheart, if I knew that this was how I’d get that feisty lil’ mouth of yours to shut up then I’d have done it a lot sooner.”

And you don’t even know if you’re breathing, the pads of your fingers dancing along his bulge. Tracing those prominent veins. Thumbing that little damp spot at his fat head. “You wouldn’t have.”

He hisses as your soft hands dip into the hem of his underwear. Voice cracking slightly, “I wouldn’t.”

Then you’re gasping - in sync with Satoru’s low moan - as you finally let him spring free. Thick cock hitting his sculpted abs, red tip smearing precum in a lewd little pool. Weeping and so so angry at the sight of you.

At the heavenly feeling of your thumb teasing under his sensitive slit, “Oh, shit.”

He’s throwing his head back when you give an experimental pump, all the way from his pretty tip to the tufts fo white at his hilt. Fist gliding all over the thumping veins. Bucking his hips up like such a slut into your touch.

“O-oh fuck.” he cracks an eye open at the way your hand looked so small compared to his dick, how well you were taking care of him. “Been ngh- dreaming of this since I learned what handjobs were, y’know? Hah- shit- ya gotta stop before I fuckin’ pass out.”

And Satoru thinks he could cum right then and there at the way you’re bringing your soaked index up to your mouth. Batting your lashes as you suck on them with a lewd pop! “From jus’ that?”

“You have no idea.”

That’s all it takes for Satoru to throw your still-quivering thighs over his shoulders, effectively shutting up whatever tease is on the tip of your sharp tongue by kissing your swollen folds with his fat head. Giving it one, long drag.

Your mouth is sagging open at the slow, torturous teasing. The sheer anticipation that had your mouth running, “S-so much for ah- jus’ being ‘friends’, huh?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” And you’re flinching from Satoru’s deep, dark tone. The way he’s bracing his fingers so bruisingly on your hips, reeling all the way back till his tip was just kissing your hole. “We stopped being friends the day you married me on that playground.”

And then he’s slamming in - pushing past that first, feeble ring of resistance, gummy walls stretching out so perfectly for him. As if he fit right in - and he tells you that. Pants it into your open mouth a little over fifteen times, in fact.

“Shiiiit, look at you.” he can’t tear his eyes away from the side of your lips stretching so wide to try and milk him. Sloppy entrance stretching out like magic. “S’like you’re made for me, huh? This pussy is made f’me?”

“Ngh- fuck, Toru! S’too big-” you keen, feet flattening on the mattress. As if to escape. To maybe fucking breathe.

Not even half-way in yet, but aleady torn between pushing away and sinking yourself down on his swollen cock for more more more-

“Don’t you dare run away.” he warns, looking up at you through his long lashes. “I’ve waited too long for this. N’ you’re not taking this pretty pussy away any time soon.” Inch by fucking inch. Grinding in short, sharps jabs - no rhythm of rhyme, like they were genuinely out of control. “Way too f-fuckin’-” All the way until your puffy folds was meeting his hilt. Finally. All the way in. “-long.”

And once Satoru had you split apart on his dick - had those tears rolling down your cheeks, cunt swallowing him so sluttily - it’s like something snaps.

Because he doesn’t waste a second - he’s already wasted almost two decades, anyway - filling you up with his mean hips. Not fucking easing you into it because you always did bring out that part of him, the part that him looping two strong arms around your waist. Pulling.

“Oh- f-fuck c’mere.” Satoru gasps, pressing your body so crushingly against his. Kissing your shaky shoulers, your sweaty forehead, the gentleness so contrasting to his hips.“God I’ve missed out- fuck fuck fuck-”

You’ve never seen the great Gojo Satoru - campus sex symbol - so uncomposed. Eyes half-lidded, just boring into yours, mouth slack in a soft oh! as he drags his cock all over inside your gummy walls. And the sight is so heavenly that you make the mistake the mistake of cracking a minute smile.

Just barely curling your lips before - “Don’t smile at me like that.” He’s dipping down a hand to roll your ravaged clit between two bullying fingers. “Fuck, she’s gonna be the death of me. Right?”

You keen at the- stimulation? The strech? The sheer embarrassment as you realize that Satou’s still talking to your sloppy pussy? Nodding so mockingly up at you as he plows on, “Mhm, she says you needa be ngh- knocked down a god, you’re tight- peg or two. So- get- ready-”

He’s using this as an excuse to sit up on his knees, dragging you onto his lap so easily like some ragdoll.

“That’s more like it.”

You’re sliding deeper down his painfully hard cock - all the way till his heavy balls rest beneath your ass, clit rubbing against his pelvis every time he bounces you like some slut.

Deep. Ruthless.

“Keep your eyes open, sweetheart.” He chuckles, and you’re screwing open your eyes that you don’t even remember shutting. Trying so hard to stop crying out at the feeling of the curve of his dick massaging your walls. “Ya gotta hngh- see the o-only one who’d fuckin’ you properly, right?”

You squeal when he’s taking your clit captive once more. Finger quick, deft. “Y-yes.”

But that wasn’t enough for Satoru - it might as well never be. Because he’s only ramming his hips up further. Like he’s pushing into your stomach, your lungs, all the way into your cockdrunk brain. Fat head alternating between kissing your poor, abused cervix and all those sweet spots he’d mapped out with his tongue.

“Sounded unsure to me.” he’s pouty against your hardened nipples bouncing enticingly in his face. Fingers quirking faster on your clit, “Maybe I should ngh- stop then?”

“No!” Your hips stutter against Satoru’s. Nails clawing down the sculpted panes of his shoulders, leaving red angry marks for him to take as a sign tomorrow morning that no, it wasn’t just one of his dreams this time. “No no no- m’sure. You’re the only one makin’ me feel this way.”

You can feel the way he’s twitching wildly at your words, dick thumping harder inside your sensitive cunt.

He punctures each word with a heavy, calculated thrust. Hand stretching and squeezing open your cunt from behind to let him slide impossibly deeper. “Hmmm, I’m not convinced.”

Your stupid mouth is only capable of letting out broken, choked-up little moans of his name, ankles locking around those dimples at the end of his spine. “S’you–”

“Still not convinced.”

But he’s still speeding up his movements, just dragging you up and down his cock. “Who else made you hah- feel this good?” Sure to claim you from the inside out - to leave marks everywhere. Heavy balls on your ass, weeping tip on your cervix, lips bruised as you whimper at his murmured, “That ex of yours?” Biting down your neck, “That barista that always flirts with you?” Pulling away only to breathe into your lips, “Who?”

“ I- fuck it’s only you, Toru.”

“Sound convincing to you?” Satoru hums down at your cunt, biting his lower lip at the way you were milking him so good. Your slick soaking him all the way down to his balls - so needy in a way he never thought he’d see. “Yeah-” be breathes, nosing at your neck. “She agrees- fuck does this tight lil’ pussy of yours agree.” A few tears, a few gorgeous marks down his back, and he was finally convinced. “You’re mine.”

You don’t even realize it when you’re cumming, and Satoru doesn’t either.

Both of you too caught up in each other to recognize that familiar, white-hot pleasure running down your spine - all the way down to where he was so mercilessly buried in your cunt.

And you’re well into the blood roaring deafeningly in your ears, the sight of Satoru - all wrecked - blurring as he fucks his hips up. Harsh. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he paints your quivering walls white.

Cumming and cumming so hard that you can feel his seed dribbling down your thighs, making such a mess all over Satoru’s lap. Your poor, overfilled cunt soon bloated and unable to keep up with it.

“Toru–” you whine, like a prayer. Milking the fucking soul out of him while he gently paws at your messy hair.

“Shhh, I know I know, sweetheart.” Such a stark contrast to the way he was filling you up like his favorite sex toy. Not even bothering to move anymore, one hand on your hip, moving your limp body up and down his sensitive cock to fuck it deeper. The other still playing with your clit, “S’alright, my girl”

Satoru’s hands never leave you, and he prays that now that he got a taste - well, you better be alright with them not leaving you for as long as he lives.

“As long as you live, huh?” you chuckle groggily, a noise so dreamy that Satoru can’t even be mad that he said it out loud. “And all that riling me up these years. Do you have a degradation kink or something?”

“Well, only one way to find out~”

“Oh shut up you-”

SLAM!

“Yooo, I bought dinner from that- WHAT THE FUCK?”

There were only two more lessons to be learned:

Always lock the door. Always. And in case you don’t, a bouquet of lollipops will do the trick to a Suguru reeling from the newest addition to the family.

Cheap takeout tastes better with an apologetic Suguru, and an ice pack to his cheek - and you to kiss it better.

A/N. Can you tell I kept listening to that one Artemas song while writing this?

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

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many-gay-magpies · 1 year ago

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really enjoying the imperfects so far except for the hints of a disloyalty/cheating plot i see starting to poke through. really hope they do not go through with it the way it looks like they're going to

#tilda and huan are SUPER cute and awesome seperately and have the potential to make me root for them together #if. yk. they weren't both dating seperate ppl. which they are #more than anything rly i love their friendship and i rly hope if the show DOES follow through with the romance they at least wait until #-a decent while after theyre split up with their respective partners to do it #that hug was rly sweet tho id kill for a hug like that #also juan and his family 💔💔💔 juan realizing his protective instinct is what makes him turn 💔💔💔#also also his EYES when he realizes it . i could literally see the switch when it happened iñaki godoy killed it #magpie thoughts

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honeyhae-svt · 15 days ago

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kissing my best friend (SEVENTEEN reaction)

tags / genre: seventeen reactions, seventeen smut, best friend au, seventeen x reader, seventeen headcanons, reader insert, smut warning, romance, best friend-to-lovers warnings: explicit sexual content (smut, NSFW), suggestive and mature themes, strong language, reader is implied to have a close friendship with the members, boundary-blurring dynamics (best friend-to-lovers trope) - minors should know not to interact a/n: it suddenly just popped into my head so im making a headcanon cause why not? (escalates rq)

S.Coups (Seungcheol) he stares at you in disbelief after you press your lips to his, his hand frozen mid-air. "what the hell was that for?" he asks, his tone low, but his eyes darken the longer he stares at your lips. when you awkwardly laugh and try to brush it off, he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. “you can’t just kiss me like that and pretend it’s nothing,” he murmurs, his breath brushing against your lips before he kisses you back, harder this time.

the next thing you knew is that you're laid down completely on his bed his cock slamming and rutting right in your cunt, flesh slapping and lips messily tangled with each other. love bites are already all over your neck. with every desperate seconds bite, your moans fill the air with seungcheol swallowing every sweet melody you give.

Jeonghan he doesn’t even flinch when you kiss him—if anything, he lets out a soft hum, as if he’s been expecting it all along. "are we still calling this ‘best friends’ now?" he whispers, his fingers brushing against your jaw. when you nervously step back, his hand catches your waist, pulling you flush against him. "don’t go all shy now. you started this," he teases, his lips grazing your neck as his other hand cups your face for another kiss.

it's not all cute until jeonghan's hands are all over you—it's like he's searching for something in your body when in reality, it felt like he's memorizing your figure all completely. who knew one kiss would end up with a night full of moans and whines of overstimulations as he eats you up.

Joshua "oh," he breathes when your lips leave his, his cheeks flushed pink. at first, he tries to laugh it off, brushing his hand through his hair awkwardly. "so, um… do best friends just… do that now?" but when you avoid his gaze, muttering something about it being a joke, he grabs your chin gently, tilting your face back to his. "you think i’m letting you get away with that?" he asks softly before closing the distance again, this time with more intent.

and that's when you find yourself completely surrendering beneath him, whimpering soft "please" and "harder" that makes him lose completely out of control. joshua has it thrusting in you all night until you pass out. who knew someone as gentle as him was the exact opposite at night? now you did.

Junhui when your lips meet his, jun blinks a few times, his mind processing what just happened. but before you can even pull away completely, he hooks an arm around your waist, smirking. "well, that’s new," he says, leaning closer until his lips hover just over yours. "so… what are we doing about it?" his voice is low and teasing as his hands trail up your sides. "because if this is your way of confessing, i’m definitely not complaining."

you did confess. who wouldn't? it's wen junhui we're talking about here. your goofy yet the most charming best friend you can ever ask for. but did you really see him as just a friend? you already planned your future in your head with him, having kids and all—except for the fact that those dreams are coming to reality too quickly. you have him all over you, moaning loudly as you clench onto the fabric of the bed as he fucks you for the fourth time. these are his unspoken feelings for you in the past few years.

Hoshi (Soonyoung) soonyoung’s eyes widen when you kiss him, and he pulls back with a loud, "wait, WHAT?!" but the moment he sees your flushed face and nervous laugh, his shock turns into a mischievous grin. "oh, so this is what we’re doing now?" he teases, stepping closer until you’re backed against the wall. “you can’t just drop a kiss on me and expect me to act normal,” he says, his voice dropping as he leans in, his lips brushing against yours again, slower this time.

everything with hoshi has always been so gentle, almost delicate—but you never expected the other side of him to be this wild, this untamed when it came to sex. the way he slams into you, his hard thrusts relentless as his balls smack against your soaked cunt, leaves you breathless. it’s nothing like the guy you thought you knew. you can’t tell if he’s proving a point, showing you that he really is a tiger, or if this is simply who he is when he lets go. either way, you’re completely consumed, caught between the intensity of his movements and the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.

Wonwoo wonwoo freezes when your lips meet his, his book slipping from his hands and hitting the floor with a quiet thud. “what was that?” he asks, his voice calm but his expression unreadable. when you stammer out an apology, he shakes his head, taking a step closer. "don’t apologize," he says, his hand reaching out to tilt your chin up. "if anything, i should be the one apologizing." before you can ask what he means, his lips are on yours again, deeper and hungrier.

making out in the library is a classic iconic. but having sex? that's a whole different level we're talking about. wonwoo has to shut you up with his kisses so you'd stay quiet for you two to not get caught. he has his mouth onto yours while he snaps his hips with yours, his cock twitching with how your gummy walls clench around him, making it difficult for him to thrust continuously. he pulls his cock out before you can cum and covers your mouth with his palm on your mouth, preventing you from whimpering.

Woozi (Jihoon) "what the hell are you doing?" jihoon blurts out the second your lips leave his, his cheeks a deep shade of red. but when you laugh nervously and try to brush it off as a joke, he grabs your wrist, his eyes locking with yours. "you think you can just kiss me and get away with it?" he mutters, his voice low. before you can respond, he pulls you closer, his lips crashing into yours with a mix of frustration and unspoken desire.

and that's how you ended up sitting on his lap as you move yourself onto him, grinding your hips back and forth to his cock, making you say his name like it's a prayer. woozi was leaving love bites all over your neck as you work so hard to meet the edge of bliss. "that's it, baby," is what he would whisper if he had to encourage you to keep going. he'd overstimulate you if he wanted to.

Minghao (The8) minghao raises an eyebrow as you pull away, his gaze unreadable. “so… that’s how it is now?” he asks, his voice calm but his smirk giving away his amusement. when you nervously try to laugh it off, he steps closer, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “if you’re going to kiss me, do it properly next time,” he whispers before leaning in, his lips meeting yours again, slower and more deliberate this time, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

oh, the slow yet lingering pleasure. minghao is as gentle as a feather as his lips trail down to your stomach. the way he worked on his tongue as he licked your every part as if he was painting something on your body felt surreal. not until he has you quivering on his bed as he eats out your cunt until you overstimulate. he doesn't let go until you squirt. and that's when you'll be showered with lots of compliments. with one final consent, he'll spoon into you really slow at first and will gradually increase as he edges you to the ends of pleasure.

Mingyu mingyu freezes the second your lips touch his, his face heating up instantly. "wait—what just happened?" he stammers, his hands hovering awkwardly near your shoulders. but when you mumble something about it being a trend, his confused expression shifts into something more serious. "so you kissed me for a trend?" he asks, his voice low. before you can explain, he steps closer, his large hands cupping your face as he leans in. “let me show you how i really feel about that,” he murmurs before kissing you again.

mingyu is the type to lose all control the moment you grind against him, a switch flipping as years of friendship dissolve into something raw and unrestrained. he pins you down, your chest pressed into the mattress while he thrusts his cock deep into your cunt, his grip on your hips firm and possessive. “m-mingyu,” you whimper, your voice shaky as he drives into you harder, his rhythm erratic yet desperate. his groans mix with your breathless gasps, the sounds of skin against skin echoing in the room. it’s messy, heated, and impossibly intimate—something neither of you can take back.

DK (Seokmin) seokmin blinks rapidly when you kiss him, his face immediately turning red. "uh… what just happened?" he asks, laughing nervously. but when you try to brush it off, he grabs your arm gently, his expression unusually serious. "don’t joke about stuff like that," he says softly before leaning in, his lips capturing yours again. his usual playful demeanor fades as his kisses grow deeper, his hands sliding to your waist as he pulls you closer.

his playful nature melts away as his lips move in sync with yours, his hands gripping your thighs tightly. when you break the kiss to gasp for air, dk takes the opportunity to trail his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking gently, leaving faint marks that make your stomach flutter. before you know it, he has you pinned beneath him, his warm hands gripping your hips as he thrusts into you, a sweet mixture of desperation and restraint. he whispers soft apologies every time his pace becomes rough, but the way you’re calling out his name only drives him to lose himself completely in you.

Seungkwan "YAH! what was that?!" seungkwan yells, his face bright red as he stares at you in shock. but when you laugh and tell him it’s just a trend, he narrows his eyes. "a trend?! you’re playing with my feelings for a trend?" before you can respond, he grabs your hand, pulling you into his lap. “you better mean it,” he mutters, his lips brushing against yours again, slower this time as his hands settle on your hips.

seungkwan’s kisses are as passionate as his personality, his lips firm and eager as he devours you, making you dizzy. he’s not holding back now, his hands gripping your waist as he presses you flush against him, your back arching under his touch. "you started this, don’t back out now," he murmurs, his voice thick with want. the next thing you know, you’re on his couch, your legs thrown over his shoulders as he takes his time thrusting his cock into you at a rhythm that has you moaning uncontrollably. his mouth is everywhere, kissing and sucking on your skin as if to make you his, all while muttering praises about how beautiful you look when you fall apart for him.

Vernon vernon blinks at you, his expression blank as he processes what just happened. "uh… what’s going on?" he asks, his tone casual but his ears noticeably red. when you laugh nervously, he tilts his head, his gaze dropping to your lips. "was that supposed to be a joke?" he asks, stepping closer. when you stammer out an excuse, he smirks softly. “you’re terrible at jokes,” he murmurs before kissing you again, his hands sliding to your waist.

he’s patient, his hands ghosting over your body, taking in every sound you make, a small smirk tugging at his lips when he hears you whine for more. "you’re cute when you’re needy," he mutters, his voice low and teasing. but when he finally has you naked beneath him, the teasing is gone. vernon’s thrusts are deep and slow, with his cock slipping out on purpose, his hands gripping your hips as he watches every expression you make. his lips find yours again, swallowing your moans as he works you to the edge, his soft grunts mixing with your cries in the most intimate rhythm.

Dino chan’s eyes widen when you kiss him, his body going completely still. "are you serious right now?" he asks, his voice a mix of disbelief and something else you can’t quite place. when you shrug and try to laugh it off, he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. "you think this is funny?" he mutters, his lips inches from yours. before you can respond, he closes the gap, his kisses rough and desperate as his hands slide up your sides.

he’s been waiting for this, and now that he has you, he’s not going to let the moment slip away. "you’re mine now," he growls against your lips, his voice filled with uncharacteristic dominance that sends shivers down your spine. before you know it, he’s taken full control, his hands gripping your thighs as he pounds his cock into you relentlessly. he doesn’t care about being gentle—he just wants you to feel how much he’s been holding back. his name spills from your lips like a chant, and he revels in the sound, his lips finding yours once again as he drives you both to the peak of pleasure.

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adelheidvonschicksal · 1 year ago

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*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ It's Like That *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

You decide to accept Itadori's invitation to the movies. It turns out better than expected.

Pairing: Itadori x GN!Reader

CW: Fluff, SFW, hand holding, potential friends to lovers, it's technically a date 💕

“Do you guys want to see Human Earthworm 4 with me?”

The three of you minus Itadori, who posed the question, share a lukewarm look. You’re on the edge of the shopping district, trying to decide what to do after your mission, if anything, and that’s the first idea that floats out amongst the group.

“What’s it about?” Nobara asks.

After Itadori explains the horror romance, there’s even less enthusiasm amongst the group to watch the movie with him. Sensing this, he ups the bargain.

“I’ll pay.”

You wince when you see Fushiguro pull out his phone. “I don’t really have the energy to sit through a movie,” he excuses himself, fingers going a mile a minute to escape the situation of friendship for today. “I’m going home.”

Your broody classmate holds his ringing phone to his ear and briefly glances at Nobara.

“I’m going to hit up the shops," she responds to his silent question.

Megumi leaves the three of you behind in no time flat. Nobara only stays behind long enough to ask if you want to go shopping with her. While you normally love to go with her and are in dire need of new shoes, you notice a lonely sullen shadow building over your slit-cheeked classmate and throw up an apologetic smile to her.

“I think I’ll go with Itadori-kun today.”

You miss the way his head perks up as you wave her off. Before you have a chance to collect your thoughts, Itadori is already on top of you, his fists drawn in front of him excitedly and chestnut irises filled with happy stars.

“You’re going to love it,” he tells you. It’s cute how he nearly shakes with excitement, you can even hear it growing in his voice and shining in his eyes. “It’s such a good series! I mean, I know it sounded weird, but it’s so much better on screen that— forget any of what I said, you gotta see for yourself!”

He wastes no time taking off in the direction of the theatre, and you jog to keep up with the speed of the Tiger of the West. It isn’t until he notices you lagging behind that he slows up to grab your hand and pull you with him.

“Come on, come on, we don’t want to miss the opening.”

“Is this one of those movies where I need to see the first three to know what’s going on?”

“Well, there’s a few returning characters, like Dr. Richter, but I can fill you in on the important stuff so don’t worry.”

When you get to the theatre, Itadori immediately jumps in the ticket line, huffing in relief when there are still seats available. You begin to pull out your wallet but pause when he hands you a pink paper ticket.

“I told you it’s on me,” he reminds you before going down the line and ordering a large popcorn, two drinks, and beating you to grab a packet of candy that you were staring at for two seconds too long.

He hands the bag of sweets to the cashier to scan. “And this please,” he asks before handing the candy to you.

“That’s okay,” you tell him, but he laughs it off.

“It’s fine. That’s your favorite, right?”

You shyly nod and hold onto the envelope of overpriced candy like it’s the most precious thing in the world causing the cashier to smile at you as she finishes preparing your items.

“Aren’t you two the cutest,” she comments.

You squeak quietly at her comment, crumpling your candy in surprise. It’s not a big deal she mistook you as a couple, it’s not like Itadori was someone you didn’t like after all, and it’s not like there was any need to correct her but you didn’t know if he felt the same way about the situation.

Curiously, you look at him, waiting for him to make the decision on the matter. Surprisingly, he blurts out a quick and happy, “Thanks!” before moving on to fill his drink.

As you watch him, you fight the urge to ask why he didn’t correct her; and when you notice that he’s way more interested in finding the right theater, you decide he must have said it because it wasn't worth a fuss.

The two of you get seats at the back of the theater, and you shift over people carefully to avoid falling into Itadori’s back as you find your seats. You can finally relax as he sets the bucket of popcorn on the armrest between you.

Soon enough, the movie begins to play.

It starts off like every normal horror movie. A mad scientist, a hapless victim, and an escape followed by a romantic subplot of the human earthworm discovering that the woman he met indeed loves him even if he is a worm.

That’s about as much as you can keep up with. There are too many easter eggs that keep flying over your head and too many callbacks to the previous movies in the series. Itadori does his best to try to help you whenever you whisper questions at him; but eventually, you’re too distracted by the couple in front of you making out to pay attention to the movie.

It’s so obnoxiously grotesque, their arms wrapping around each other and a soft moan every so often that’s drowned out by the guttural sounds of the earthworm children. You can’t really believe they’d do that in public, and why did they have to be so close to you out of all people?

Itadori looks at you and then finally catches on to what’s making you squirm. When he does, a faint hint of red starts to coat across his nose, and he becomes equally uncomfortable.

Deciding to make it a little better for the both of you, you nudge him then make a silly disgusted face with your tongue stuck out to mimic a gag. You’re rewarded with a snicker from him and his own silly face in turn, and it makes the awkwardness of it a little easier to take as you try to focus back on the movie.

It’s another half hour in before you wonder exactly how the hell are they still going at it.

“Society really needs to bring shame back,” you think before a warm breath hits your ear and fans down your jaw.

You nearly jump before the smooth sounds of Itadori’s voice greet you.

“So, that guy—” he begins but you’re way too focused on how close he leaned into you this time, how low the timbre of his voice goes to keep from disturbing those around you. It makes your feet curl in your shoes and your breath catch in your chest when his shoulder connects with your arm.

You feel heightened to his presence and the heat of him so close. It wasn’t like this earlier, but your heart is racing and your skin tickles the more he whispers. You think he’s so close that he could almost kiss your earlobe.

It’s a path that you didn’t know you had in your mind, and it leaves you rattled as the smallest brush of pink hair hits your skin as he straightens back up and reaches for another handful of popcorn.

Every time he touches your arm after to get your attention or your hand scoops by his in the popcorn bucket, you start to become flustered and jittery like a child after too much sugar.

It lasts until the movie reaches its apex.

There’s a combined scream that fills the theatre, and you tense at the splatter of blood hitting the camera, leaving the few remains of your popcorn scattered across the floor as you unwittingly knock it over and squeeze Itadori’s hand tight.

Your fingers slot with his and your fingertips bury against his palm, and it’s the only thing keeping you from bursting into a scream.

When the lights flash back on, you notice how pink his hand looks under your tense hold and mumble out an apology.

“Oh, that?” he asks followed by the same charming laugh as always. “It was pretty funny. You should’ve seen your face, like a blowfish,” he comments, teasingly mocking your blow-eyed expression as everyone around you begins to exit. “I never took you for a scaredy-cat.”

“You’re one to talk. You screamed in my ear at least a dozen times,” you remind him as the two of you also make your way towards the exit doors. “Sounded like you were on fire.”

“Don’t say fire in a theatre!” he scolds with a hiss.

“You said it louder.”

“To remind you not to say it!”

You giggle at how offended he sounds as you break out into the light of the late afternoon. You walk with Itadori back to your pickup spot on the edge of the shopping district. It’s surprisingly quiet especially considering who you’re with, and it makes you worry a bit.

You thought Itadori would be more excited after watching the film and practically forcing you to run 500m dash to get there, but he’s barely said two words about it since leaving the theatre, briefly mentioning how he’s still glad they used a real costume for the main earthworm instead of CGI.

But since leaving, his mood seems to have dampened. You thought about bringing something up from the movie, but you couldn’t really catch more than a few bloody scenes and a little evil monologuing from Dr. Richter outside the moments when Itadori would have your attention, with his voice in your ear or his hand excitedly clasping around your wrist each time he enthusiastically info-dumped a scene to you.

“Hey, um,” he begins piquing your interest. He seems to lose his nerve when you catch his eye; his gaze flutters to his feet before nervously picking back up to glimpse at your face but only for a few seconds. “Thanks for coming with me.”

You smile. “Don’t mention it. It was…different.”

“Yeah,” he agrees but he still seems down.

“Itadori-kun? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah…It’s just…I could tell you didn’t really like the movie. I mean I knew from the start it wasn’t really your thing. You and Nobara usually like to shop together more than watch horror movies. But still—” he breathes in deep, a shy color blossoming across his face. “It’s been a while since it felt like I did something normal, so it was really nice having someone to come with me. I appreciate it.”

There's something about his explanation that makes your heart hurt. He hasn’t been a sorcerer that long yet; and coming from being a normal kid to the world you were born into was probably scarier than you all could understand.

“It’s not that I didn’t enjoy it! I just couldn’t really follow the story between that annoying couple smacking the whole time, and I felt like I barely follow anything at all!” you reason with him, but he still has that kicked puppy look on his face.

You sigh with soft empathy before offering him a reassuring smile.

“Hey, Itadori-kun, you know I think I’d like to come back and see it again with you. After we watch the first three movies of course."

He gives you a curious look, his eyebrows raised with disbelief.

“Really?”

You give a cute and short nod. “Mhm! I can’t really give it a fair chance if I haven’t seen the ones leading up to it. Besides, I want to know why Dr. Richter was trying to kidnap the baby H.E.s in the first place? Couldn’t he make more Enhanced H.E.s from the DNA left from the original experiment victim like he did at the beginning of the movie?”

It’s like you open the skies back over him when your words sink in, and he moves so happily, speaks so fully, and it makes you happy to see him simply be happy.

“They explain it so good in the third movie,” he says, unable to hold in his excitement. “I know a great site, it has subtitles and everything, and a special director’s cut at the end of the second movie.”

You laugh. “Sounds good!”

“We should pick up some more snacks; the original is actually pretty long,” he warns and starts to lead you towards the convenience store. Your smile only breaks when you feel the tug on your arm and look down to notice his hand still fastened around yours.

You freeze, feeling your face warm a bit when you realize he’s probably been holding it since before you left the theater. This makes him pause and turn towards you.

Softly, he calls your name and asks if you’re okay, making you drop your head bashfully.

“Oh, it’s nothing really but you’re still holding my hand,” you point out.

Itadori looks down between the two of you and confirms that his fingers are still locked with yours, a comfortable fit.

“Huh, oh, I guess I am,” he states matter-of-factly before he blushes. “Oh, it’s probably all gross and oily right? Yuck.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s not actually,” you correct, making no move to force him to let go because you honestly don’t want him to stop this good feeling pouring from him into you through the simple act.

Your soft expression makes his cheeks warm for a different reason this time.

“Oh, well, w-we should probably hurry,” he stammers out, and your hand tightens around his hand just a little bit more as you agree and find the closest convenience store to prepare for your first movie night.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Nobara stops outside the convenience store, hand to the glass as she stalks back and forth, trying to catch glimpses down the aisle.

She could have sworn she just saw the two of you walk in from the other side of the street, and she was going to come to say hi – partially to ask how the movie went and partially to make Itadori carry her shopping bags if the two of you were done – that was before she noticed how close the two of you looked.

Weirdly close.

When she finally catches you in the foggy glass, hand in hand, looking at the mini gacha inside the store, she gasps and quickly shuffles her bags around in search of her phone.

Kugisaki quickly scrolls through her contacts, impatiently tapping her foot as she waited for the line to pick up.

“Fushiguro get here quick,” she harshly whispers into the device.

There’s a lazy voice on the other end asking what she wants, and she vaguely explains the situation to be met with resistance.

“Well then have Ijichi drop you off again! What do you mean ‘No’?" she growls. "Shut up and listen to me. They just went into 7/11. Ugh. Fine, fine, I’m sending you some pictures,” she argues.

Kugisaki quickly starts to snap some pictures through the glass and frantically sends them off before bringing the phone back to her ear.

“That’s what I’m saying so hurry up and get here! Yes, it’s like that!”

#itadori x reader #yuji x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #yuuji x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuji fluff #itadori fluff #gender neutral reader #tbh i love horror movies and wouldve honestly went with him #yuuji itadori x reader #itadori yuuji

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megamindsecretlair · 17 days ago

Text

'Twas the Night

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FLUFF, SMUT. Cursing, teasing, PIV, oral (male and female receiving), fingering (female receiving), minor OC lore (sorry!) Use of pet name. Mentions of the n-word, all consensual. Bad jokes, a different side to Terry. Sorry if I missed some. (Some meta jokes and winks and self-indulgent asf)

Summary: Treating yourself to a winter writing getaway, you are startled when the homeowner forgot to mention the 6’3 handyman that came by to fix things around the house. You find an unlikely friendship with the man, opening up about your romance novel. But when you confess that you need some inspiration, Terry is all too happy to be of service.

Word Count: 19,198k

AO3 Link

A/N: WHEW. Forgive me for being late, I was nervous about this one. It's self-indulgent like a MF. I love this Reader and Terry SOOOO bad. I had a hard time letting this one end. So I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Snow crunched under your tire as you pulled up to the quaint cabin at the top of the mountain. You leaned forward in your seat, looking up at the address to make sure it matched. It did. This was the place.

You were glad the outside matched the picture. You couldn’t count how many times you arrived at an Air B&B, just for the lister to pull some fuck shit.

For now, it looked like it lived up the hype. And you made it in time to watch the sun set over North Carolina a little later. You gripped the steering wheel and squealed with delight. This was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

You rolled your truck up to the small, attached garage and got out of the car. You went up the wooden steps to the wide porch that looked ripped from a magazine. There was a hunter green swing set with a pillowed pad on top of the bench. It even had cute throw pillows to match.

Per the owner’s instructions, you were able to easily find the key box disguised as a lantern. You unscrewed the false bottom, retrieved the key and garage door opener, and replaced the bottom.

You headed back to the awaiting truck, looking back at the cabin. You still couldn’t believe that this was all yours for the next two months while you worked on your latest novel. Your family was sad about you missing Christmas and New Year’s with them, but you had all grown out of the traditions. There was no point to be around just to be around.

By the end of this, you were going to have a rough draft to show your agent. That was a guarantee. You pulled your beanie down before getting back in your truck and pulled into the garage.

You entered and turned on lights as you went through the house, familiarizing yourself with the layout and decor. The owner went with a sage green theme, the cabinets in the kitchen painted to match the small fireplace in the living room adjacent to it. There was a throw blanket in the living room with the same color and you had a hunch that the bedroom would be much the same.

The cabin held two distinct buildings with a short hallway to connect it. The bedroom was modest, room enough to not feel claustrophobic but it wasn’t huge either. You checked and true to form, the bedroom held nothing electrical in it.

The king sized bed was almost too big for the room, but it really brought everything together. And yes, there was a sage green throw across the foot of the bed. The artwork on the walls were as non-offensive as possible, full of pictures of trees and animals.

You pulled your phone from your jacket pocket and started recording. “Hey ya’ll, I made it safe and sound. And it’s like the pictures so it’s not a scam! I am loving all these windows but ugh, can these people do anything other than white curtains, white sheets, and pastels? Like damn, I don’t know if I feel safe around all this white!”

You giggled as you went through the house, checking things out but mostly checking for anything weird or creepy. No cameras, no drilled holes, no false paintings. You showed a few things around the house and then flipped the camera towards you.

“I am signing off, my loves. I’ve got my inspection to do. Love you bunches, I hope to be two-hundred and seventy pages heavier after this!” You blew a kiss into the camera and then sent it to your friends and family.

Almost immediately, your mom started in on the issue with you being out in the mountains by yourself. Your sister piped in to remind your mom that you were grown, still in the state, and it was pretty sexist to say a woman needed a man to protect her all the time.

“Exactly,” you agreed out loud. You put up your phone and then really got to business. You took off your purple jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the door. You took off your purple hoodie and hung that up as well.

You put on your headphones and your favorite cleaning playlist, full of hip hop and R&B oldies. Then, you retrieved cleaning supplies from your car and went through the house with a fine-tooth comb.

Some may call you…odd. And that was fair. You knew how annoying you could be about cleanliness, but you just really wanted to avoid getting sick. You turned into an entire baby when you got sick and considering no one was around to give you said princess treatment, it was best to remain healthy.

That and people were just plain fucking nasty.

Luckily, it seemed like this cabin was professionally cleaned. You mostly sanitized every surface you could find, dancing and shaking your booty to the songs as they came on. “Never Too Much” by Luther Vandross came on while you were mopping the kitchen.

You danced around the small kitchen in your mop slippers, singing into the mop handle as if it were a microphone. You sang along with Luther at the top of your lungs, badly, and let the song keep you energized.

You headed to the bedroom with a black light to check over the sheets and mattress. There were a few specks of mysterious origins which was to be expected, but the mattress was fresh. The sheets were clean as well, but you weren’t going to hop in someone else’s sheets anyway.

You hauled deep rose bedding into the room from your car and made up the bed how you liked. You brought your own pillows as well, fluffing it on top. Now the space was starting to feel comfortable. Your anxiety lowered inch by smooth inch.

You looked around the bedroom, scanning for anything you might have missed. Your eyes caught on the window, on the mix of oranges and pinks.

“Shit!” You screamed as you tore through the house, towards the kitchen, and made you a quick cup of tea. You doctored it how you liked and then added cold water. You took the mug and your own blanket outside to the back porch.

The owner had built another world in the backyard. The patio was covered with an awning that connected to the house. There were egg chairs and a sofa set up around a stylish oak table. Plants sat in planters around the area and there was a rug underneath the table. Fairy lights were strewn about giving the space a warm glow.

“Oh fuck yessss,” you groaned, sitting down in the comfy egg chair and looked out over the open back yard. The grass was vividly green, swaying slightly with the light breeze. Woods encroached the perimeter, thick with leaves and underbrush. Anything could be out there, adding to the mystery and awe it inspired.

You draped the throw around your shoulders and then sat in silence, watching the sunset. Soft blues were chased out of the sky by pinks, oranges, and the softest purples blending into the pitch black sky.

Stars winked on as if there were tiny caretakers igniting each one. Your mind spun with idea after idea, but these you would let pass. Not everything had to be about writing. Some things just needed to be experienced.

The tea kept you warm as the temperature dropped more and more. When your nose got too cold and you sniffed one too many times, you finally packed it in and went back to cleaning. Your playlist kept you upbeat as you cleaned out the bathroom.

Done with everything, you finally felt comfortable enough to shower. Scrubbing the day away with your favorite soap nearly made you ascend to another plane. You giggled to yourself as your mind spun once more, crafting a whole silly scenario just because.

You sighed. You needed a man. Well, okay, ‘needed’ was a strong word. But you were giving up comedy gold over here. There should be someone around to witness it! Then again, did you really want to explain your quirks to someone?

You shook your head. You were not here for all of that. You were here to get some much needed writing done away from your family and friends. You knew they meant well, but it was almost pathological with the way they relied so heavily on you.

As much you knew that they loved you, you also wondered if they even saw you as a human being with your own interests. They knew you needed to write and yet they came bursting in anyway, calling, texting, bugging to no end. You were tired of explaining that you weren’t rejecting them, you just needed to focus on writing.

Either they truly didn’t get it or they willfully ignored your needs. And you just didn’t have time for that. When your editor, Vanessa, suggested that you made enough money now that a writing retreat was well within your budget, it was like a wake up call.

Of course. The solution was right there. You immediately hopped on Google to determine which place called to you more. You always wanted a winter writing escape and a few keystrokes later, you were on your way with your family scratching their heads.

You dried yourself off in the bathroom and lotioned yourself up. You left the bathroom in a cloud of scented steam. You opted for a pair of panties and an oversized red T-shirt that reached down to your knees. The place had central heating but you didn’t want to turn it up too much. Just enough to warm the wooden flooring.

You spent the next hour making tacos, the heavenly aroma of meat and salsa making your mouth water. You cleaned as you went, not wanting to spend the next morning doing dishes. The cabinet below the sink squeaked and you debated telling Mr. Omar about it. It was something small but if you were going to be there for a while, you’d rather not deal with the inconvenience. Ehh, it was small. No need to bother the man for that.

All done, you brought your plate to the living room and camped out, finding something to watch. You had been hearing so much about that show called Rivals on Hulu so you decided to watch it. When the first episode started, you screeched at the TV. It literally opened with someone joining the Mile High Club.

For the rest of the night, you relaxed and zoned out. It was hard for you to truly relax, to truly turn your brain off and just enjoy something. But practice made perfect, so practice you will.

When you yawned for the fifth time in two minutes, you finally gave up the ghost. You turned everything off and put up the food you made. Then you turned everything off as you headed down the short hallway to the bedroom.

It was pitch black inside. Perfect. You only used your bedroom for sleeping and fucking. It signaled to your body that enough was truly enough. No distractions, no connections, nothing to prevent your body from sinking into sleep. And it worked every time.

You crawled into the comfy bed, soothed by the familiar smell of your bedsheets. Your brain blissfully shut up and you fell into a lovely, dream-filled sleep.

You woke up naturally early in the morning. The white curtains in this room were heavier than what was in the rest of the house, allowing limited lighting to reach the bed. Plus, the sun didn’t shine on this side so the added shade soothed your overworked eyes as soon as you got up.

This…you sighed. This was what you needed. You felt so good having true silence for once. No one around, no one bugging you, no one bringing you into their drama, no one leaning on you, no one calling you. It got to the point where you were beginning to hate the sound of your name. Too many people used it to demand your attention, demand your time, and then curse you in the same breath when you retreated and wanted to recharge your mental batteries.

This would likely have to become a tradition. From now on, you would have to choose an Air B&B to get the first draft over with. At least after that, you had the idea out of your head and you could cobble it together among the noise of your demanding family. The brainstorming stage was the most crucial; you could not afford distractions.

You were itching to write but you knew that you needed to eat something first. You got up from bed, scratching beneath your bonnet as you picked your way down the short hallway to the other side of the house.

A heavy boot clanged on something metal, drawing your attention to the kitchen where a tall man dug through your cabinets. You screamed, hopping in place from foot to foot. The man turned around with a jump revealing…a pretty face.

You ran towards the fireplace and grabbed a poker, brandishing it like a spear. “Who the fuck are you?!” You demanded, pulling your shirt down. Fuck. You should’ve worn pants. Well, no, fuck that, he shouldn’t be in your place!

The man lifted his hands and revealed a screwdriver in his hand. “Wait, hol’ on,” he said. His deep voice was unexpected, sounding like a crack of fire on a cold, wintery night.

You moved the poker around in the air, looking around for any other men that may be lurking. The cabin was small enough, the kitchen not too far from the living room. But, besides the bathroom, you could see everything at a glance. You looked out of the windows anyway, searching for any other cars or trucks outside.

“I’m Mr. Omar’s handyman. He asked me to fix the cabinet,” the man said. His scruffy facial hair framed his symmetrical face and hid his lush lips. His eyes were intense, the color of a storm right as it kissed the ocean, and his eyebrows arched severely. He was unreal. But hot or not, he was still a stranger.

His eyes drew down to your legs and you tugged on your shirt as if you could conjure more material. “You think I’m going to buy that? What are you really doing here? You read his mail?” You asked.

You hadn’t seen any mail laying around the place when you cleaned the day before, but that didn’t mean anything. Maybe he dug through the trash or hacked Mr. Omar’s emails.

The man sighed and shook his head. “You watch too much TV,” he said.

“And you need to answer my questions. Who the hell are you?” You asked.

The man kept his hands up but lowered his elbows. “I’m the handyman,” he said, putting emphasis on the word as if that helped. “Terry.”

You squinted at him as you looked around the living room for your phone. You had plugged it in before you went to sleep, but it was hard to look for it and keep an eye on the man.

He watched you and tilted his head. You scowled. Was he just humoring you? If that motherfucker tried anything, he’d lose one of those perfectly sculpted eyes.

You snatched your phone from the end table besides the couch. You held the poker up as a deterrent but the man - “Terry” - didn’t move. He watched you, hands up, calm as a cucumber. If he was a thief or a rapist, he was the worst one you’d ever seen. Or maybe he was the smartest.

You sized him up as you dialed the homeowner’s phone number. “We’re gonna see about you, nigga,” you said. You brought the phone to your ear as Terry smirked.

“I’d believe that more if your voice wasn’t so squeaky,” he said.

“I do not have a squeaky voice!” You yelled.

Terry smirked again, tilting his head as if you just proved his point. “Can I put my hands down?”

“No,” you said. Mr. Omar didn’t answer on the first ring so you tried again.

“Just like a chipmunk,” Terry said. Terry sighed and then leaned against the nearest sink, making you look at the full length of him. He wore dark wash jeans, heavy tan boots, and a black hoodie. He also wore a cream colored beanie pulled low over his head. It ought to be a damn sin to be so fine.

“Hello?” Mr. Omar’s accented voice came on the line. The subtle African pronunciations made you curious about where he was from but you were too chicken to ask.

“Mr. Omar! There is a man in the rental claiming to be your ‘handyman’,” you said, managing to give Terry air quotes around the poker.

Terry smirked and licked his lips, drawing attention to them. They were so pink and big. The more you paid attention to his features, the more striking he became. He looked like a painting made real. Or like one of those artist renditions of Egyptian royalty.

“Ah yes, Terry-Terry. Good man,” Mr. Omar said.

You sighed and turned your head. “What does he look like then?” You asked.

The poker grew heavier now that Mr. Omar vouched for the man. However, you weren’t ready to lower it just yet.

“Tall and like Mufasa,” Mr. Omar said.

You snapped your eyes to Terry, comparing him to a lion. Nah, he was more like a Scar to be honest. But still, the image wouldn’t leave your mind and your thighs responded, tingling with awareness.

You scowled at Terry who pressed his lips together. “Can I lower them now?” He asked, amusement written all over his face.

“Where’s your ID?” You asked.

Terry sighed. “I’m not handing over my ID to a chipmunk,” he said.

You squeaked with an indignant huff and Terry shrugged his shoulders. “Is that all you need?” Mr. Omar asked.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was coming by?” You asked. You lowered the poker down by your waist, business end sticking out in case this Terry character wanted to try you.

“Forgive me, my memory. I’m an old man,” he said. You rolled your eyes. He was far from an old man, in his early fifties and looked young enough to be a senior at college. The man kept himself fit and in shape, telling you all about his fitness journey during the many conversations you had about the property.

“Right. Thanks, Mr. Omar,” you grumbled and hung up with him. Okay, so the man was legit. But that didn’t explain why he didn’t ring the doorbell.

“I didn’t know anyone was here, I’m sorry. Just let me fix a few things on my list and I’ll be out your hair,” he said.

“Can’t you come back when I’m…” you trailed off and clicked your mouth shut. You were going to tell him to come back when your getaway was over but he didn’t need to know your timeline. He could swing back around and murk your ass.

“When you’re done gathering nuts to hibernate?” He asked.

“Fuck you, I’m not a chipmunk,” you said, smiling despite yourself.

Terry lowered his arms and then made a show of putting the screwdriver down. “Do I get to know your name?” He asked.

You debated giving him even that much, but the manners that were drilled into you refused to let you be rude. You tugged on your shirt and his eyes followed the motion. His focus was…unnerving. You cleared your throat and told him your name. He repeated it one more time and you nodded, a tingle going up your spine at the way he rolled the syllables around with that slight Carolina accent.

“Nice to meet you. Now that we’re good, can you point that somewhere else?” He asked.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Like you were even scared of it,” you said. You placed the poker down on the coffee table. The metal clinked against the glass top but your eyes were glued to Terry’s.

Terry chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. “You and your mouseketeers are s’posed to be good at fencing,” he said.

“You know what! You get on my damn nerves!” You said and laughed, giving in to his bad jokes.

“Can I do my job?” He asked.

You were still wary about him being in the house while you were practically naked. You glanced away from him, looking at how far the bedroom was. “How many things do you have to do?” You asked.

“Mr. Omar left me a honey-do,” he said.

You sighed. You didn’t like this one bit. You hadn’t planned on having a visitor while you got into the rhythm of things. But you also didn’t want this man to come back. Though…that wouldn’t totally be the worst thing.

You licked your lips and looked between him and the bedroom. You didn’t want to linger on him but fuck, it was like one look wasn’t enough. Every time you looked at him, you noticed something different about him.

“Tell you what. I’ll spread it out. I’ll only do a few things at a time. Deal?” He asked. He held out his hand, beckoning you to come closer. That was how all horror movies started. The devil himself smirked at you and you scowled, understanding exactly how Eve broke. Had you been her, you wouldn’t have stopped at just the apple.

“Deal, I guess,” you said.

Terry lowered his hand and nodded. “Deal. You won’t even know I’m here,” he said.

Riiiiight. “Just…stay out here. I hear a boot coming down the hall and it’s game over,” you said.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, making his accent thicker. The mischief in his eyes made you scowl harder. But his eyes dropped lower and lower and you pulled on your shirt.

You made a beeline to your room, slammed the door shut, and sighed heavily. This was unreal. Absolutely unreal.

You grabbed the nearest pair of sweatpants, yanked it on, and then took a few more deep breaths. You listened for any sense of movement, any creak of the floorboards, or sound of breathing. When there wasn’t any, you cracked open the door.

You headed towards the kitchen to find Terry exactly where you left him, bent over the cabinet as he fixed the hinge. At your approach, he stopped and looked sideways at you. His side profile was lethal, jawline sharp enough to cut glass.

Your belly flipped and you held it like it was a traitor. As if it could give you away. You breezed past him and grabbed your laptop off of the kitchen island, clutching it to your chest as you carried it to the living room and curled up in the corner of the couch.

From this angle, Terry couldn’t sneak behind you and you had a full view of him as he worked. You opened your laptop and opened up your notes for your latest novel. You had the major plot ideas down but you needed to flesh in your characters.

As you researched, adding pins on Pinterest for inspiration, you couldn’t forget that Terry was there no matter what else you did.

He moved with grace like he was completely in tune with his body. The delicate way he held and used the tools drew your attention to his long, thick fingers. Every so often, his tongue stuck out of his mouth as he worked, screwing the bolt down or digging for another screw. He was a distraction and a half.

“You need a picture?”

You gasped as you blinked, coming back to reality. Terry looked sideways at you, his eyes low and sleepy-like.

Wow, your thoughts were not holy. You mentally slapped some sense into yourself. This man was a stranger. A very fine, gorgeous stranger, but an hour ago, you thought he was going to kill you. Be so real right now.

“What?” You asked.

“You were staring,” he said.

“Was not,” you said and sat back on the couch.

“Was to,” he said, testing the cabinet by swinging it back and forth. It didn’t squeak so Terry dropped into a squat to investigate the cabinet below the sink. The stretch of the squat revealed a gorgeous ass to match.

That was it. The man wasn’t real. He had to be conjured from God’s own imagination. God was just showing out when he made Terry and it wasn’t fair. All that fine piece of meat…

Speaking of, you added “piece of meat” under your male character’s profile in your notes. “For your nosy information, staring off into the distance is part of my process. If you happen to step into my line of sight, that’s on you,” you said.

“That right?” He asked and you could hear the humor in his deep voice.

“Uh-huh,” you said. You typed a few more notes, taking in tiny details about Terry. The slope of his shoulders. The curve of his brow. His high cheekbones. Your male character came together more quickly in your mind now that you had a model to work off of.

The cabinet squeaked, breaking you of your thoughts. “It’s singing the song of your people, you know,” Terry said.

You sucked your teeth and Terry chuckled. “Me and you are going to fight,” you said.

“I got a ladder if you want to use it,” he said.

You rolled your eyes and pinched your lips together. He was really going to make you scream. “Are you always this annoying?” You asked.

“I can be worse,” he said.

You stared off into an invisible camera. You could hear the laugh track now. You shook your head and decided to ignore his shenanigans. You fell into a comfortable silence somehow, typing away as more and more ideas came to you. It was no longer weird that there was a strange man in the cabin. Despite being so big, he had an uncanny ability to take up as little space as possible.

“What are you working on? You a writer or somethin’?” He asked.

“Yeah, what gave me away?” You asked.

“The laptop,” he said.

You sucked your teeth and hid your smile behind your hands, pretending like you were suffering the sting of a thousand cuts. Terry chuckled. “I know you want to laugh,” he said.

“Do not,” you said and moved your hands, settling on a smile. That was all his fine ass deserved.

“You write anything I may have read?” He asked. The hinge on the cabinet knocked against the wood as Terry pried it off with the screwdriver. His hands really were huge and you briefly wondered what it’d feel like wrapped around your ass.

You pressed your thighs together and adjusted yourself on the couch. This man was proving dangerous afterall. One meeting with him and you were picturing disgusting scenarios to write.

“Umm, no, my books wouldn’t be your speed,” you said.

“I like nature though. I’m sure a chipmunk survival guide would be right up my alley,” he said.

“The door is right there,” you said, chuckling. He truly got on your damn nerves. But you wanted to hear more. His voice was smooth and deep, a weakness for sure. Your voice kink was in hyperdrive, teasing out every way he sounded out words and syllables to be replayed later in your mind.

“C’mon, what do you write?” He asked. He glanced at you briefly before returning to replacing the hinge. He dropped to his knees as he worked, putting him in a position to arch his back.

Mm, mm, mm. You eye-fucked him as he leaned forward, holding the hinge in place while he screwed in the first screw. He leaned back to dig into the tool box by his feet and you looked away, heat flashing over your skin.

You did not know this man. You did not know this man. You did not –

“Not gon’ tell me?” He asked.

“What happened to not knowing you were even there?” You asked. He was worse than your folks at home. If you wanted to be harassed, you would have saved yourself the money.

“You’re the one staring,” he said.

You took a deep breath to keep from cussing. Maybe it was his face. Maybe he was too pretty to yell at. Or maybe he was so pretty it spurned you to want to hit him. Because as much as you wanted to smack him, you wanted to smack his ass even more.

Sweet fuck you needed to get laid. Maybe you’d redownload that dating app your friends made you download after your last book. You deleted it because apparently, guys took offense when all you wanted was sex from them.

“I write books,” you said, chickening out at the last minute. It wasn’t exactly easy to tell people that you wrote explicit shifter romances. Urban fantasy settings let you have the best of both worlds. Modern technology combined with fantasy and magic, blended together, and created something that scratched all of your itches.

“What kind of books?” He asked.

“Paperbacks,” you said.

Terry chuckled and shook his head. “If you don’t say, I’m going to start guessing,” he said.

You groaned and Terry chuckled at your theatrics. You held up your hand. “Please, spare me. If you must know, I write romance novels,” you said.

“Romance novels…like the ones where the guys have a forty inch dick, eight feet tall, and long flowing red hair?” Terry asked.

You howled with mirth as that image was now seared into your brain. “Ew, yuck! Why! Why would you make me picture that?” You asked when you had enough air in your lungs to breathe.

“I’m just shooting the shit. That’s wassup though,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said slowly, full suspicion. Terry chuckled but didn’t say anything further as he continued working on the cabinets.

You went back to your brainstorming, filling in details about your female main character. You searched for her fatal flaw, the lie she told herself in order to survive before the meet cute with the main male character.

You sighed. You ought to give them names. But you were not prepared to deal with the ads on Nameberry or clicking endlessly on name generators. But you couldn’t very well keep calling them ‘female main character’ and ‘male main character’.

You brought up Nameberry first in the hopes that you’d find something quicker using the alphabet lists. A Q name would be cute. Qianna? Ugh, there weren’t many cute Q names.

“I didn’t know writing could be so hard core,” Terry said.

You looked at him over the top of your laptop with a scowl. “Are you almost done? You’re stinking up the place,” you said.

Terry chuckled and shook his head. “I’ll finish out the cabinets and come by tomorrow for the shower and air filters,” he said.

“What’s wrong with the shower?” You asked. The way he said it…he could make even the most innocent words sound naughty. Because now, you were thinking of the shower. And him in the shower. And all those suds dripping down his naked body…

“Water bill is going up. So Mr. Omar wants me to check for a leak,” he said.

You hadn’t noticed anything but you weren’t a professional handyman either. “How’d you come to be here, Terry?” You asked.

Terry slanted his eyes towards you. “Curious about me?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes. “I could go back to ignoring you,” you said.

“I’d believe that if you weren’t staring so much.”

You took a deep breath and Terry waved you off. “I’ll stop. I got into some deep shit a year back. I wanted to take my mind off it by being as busy as possible. Working with my hands relaxes my mind,” he said.

You nodded. You could respect that. “You live around here?”

“Mr. Omar has another spot up the ways. I work on his properties and I get to stay for free,” he responded.

You sighed wistfully. The things you would do to be able to have an arrangement like that. Only without the handyman part, because fuuuuuck that. “Your family doesn’t miss you?” You asked.

Terry took a measured breath and paused briefly inworking. He then screwed in the final screw and tested the cabinet door, no squeak to be found. “Naw. Not really,” he said quietly.

Duly noted. Shutting up. This was why you weren’t that social. You had a particular knack for picking up on shit people didn’t want to discuss. You hid behind your laptop screen, hunting for more names for your main characters.

Gabrielle was always a cute girl name to you. Now for the perfect boy name…Rashad…Theo…Wesley? Wesley and Gabrielle? That sounded kind of cute together. You put it on the list of maybes and continued hunting for different pairs just in case. Though each one you found didn’t spark as much interest as Wesley and Gabrielle.

“I’m done for the day. In case you had a change of heart,” Terry said.

“Nice try. I didn’t get any work done because of you,” you said.

Terry smirked, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Then my job’s really done,” he said.

You groaned playfully and put your laptop down on the coffee table. You had pants on now but you still felt exposed. Like you were still standing there half-naked. Terry’s eyes tracked down your body as if he recalled your bare legs as well.

You weren’t stupid. You knew he had a passing interest. But what man wouldn’t after living up in the mountains of North Carolina? You doubted he was starving for female attention and you had a book to finish, come hell or high water. Pretty distractions like him did you no justice.

You’d just have to pull out ole reliable, Laz Alonso. Thinking of that man already had you hot and bothered and the vibrator you brought with you would have to be more than sufficient to get you through the winter.

You approached Terry cautiously as he packed away his tools. You openly stared at his backside as he closed the tool box and stood up to his full height. He was so damn tall. Guys like him just didn’t exist in real life. It wasn’t fair.

Terry walked to the front door ahead of you. You kept some distance, not wanting to give him a chance to get too close. Your alarms were still on high alert though he did a good job of putting you at ease.

As he crossed the threshold, your stomach rumbled. Loudly. In all the excitement and hubbub, you forgot to grab food. Terry turned to the sound, stopping a few feet from the front door.

“There’s a bar down the mountain if you ever want to get out the house,” he said.

You pinched your lips. “That doesn’t sound too bad. But maybe not today,” you said and leaned against the door jam. The cold air blew into the warm house, instantly raising goosebumps on your arms.

Terry nodded. “You change your mind, let me know,” he said. “And if you notice anything that needs fixing, definitely let me know.”

You smiled. The thoughts he conjured…”Thanks, I truly appreciate it. But how would I let you know?”

Terry chuckled. He nodded towards the kitchen. “I left my number on the fridge. Need anything, just call.”

You glanced back towards the fridge and saw a few sticky notes on it. You turned to him and nodded. “I’m glad you turned out to not be a creep.”

Terry nodded. “I’m glad you take your safety seriously. Most people don’t. Lock up after me,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” you said, deepening your voice.

Terry huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Can’t hide that voice, sorry,” he said.

“Shut up! And get home safely, Terry,” you said.

Terry took the steps down fast and then spun around to walk backwards. “Worried about me, chipmunk?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, I’d rather not explain to Mr. Omar why his handyman couldn’t finish around the house,” you called out to him, raising your voice the further away he walked.

He waved to you, making it to his truck parked a ways in front of the front door. It was a big blue truck with a larger bed than most you’ve seen. It suited him though. And his rugged appearance. He didn’t strike you as the type to drive a luxury SUV and complain about his shoes getting soaked through from the snow.

You went back into the warm house, shut the door, and locked it behind you. You tapped on it once, turning away with a smile. Now…down to real business.

True to his word, Terry came over nearly every day for the next two weeks fixing things around the house. He managed to find a way to annoy the ever loving hell out of you, but he also made you laugh so hard, you nearly snorted tea out of your nose.

You found inspiration with the little things he did or said. Until “Wesley”, your male main character, started to move and sound like Terry in your mind. You would feel bad, except there was no chance in hell Terry would ever read this book. Ever.

The beginning came together smoothly in your mind. Wesley, the too-serious wolf shifter investigator, was married to his work, only going home long enough to eat, shower, and sleep. Gabrielle, the famous tech genius by day, was also a major thief by night. And as a surprise to no one, Wesley didn’t know he was investigating Gabrielle’s latest crime, the theft of a magic orb from a private collection.

Now…where could they bump into each other… a blind date sounded interesting to you but nothing too easy. Nothing too cliche. Hmm…grocery store? She stumbles upon him after shift? Maybe it’s a full moon and he protects her?

You groaned and backspaced. You were thinking too hard on this one. This one wasn’t coming together in your mind. You looked back over your character descriptions; maybe there was something there to spark interest.

Heavy boots stomped down the hallway from the bedroom as Terry had taken a look at the closet door. So many broken hinges. What were people renting this house for? Parties where they pretended to be animals, swinging from the ceiling?

You snorted at your own joke just as Terry entered the living room. You looked at him and stopped laughing but Terry raised an eyebrow. “Don’t stop on my account,” he said.

He chose a dark gray hoodie this time, the same cream colored beanie, and dark jeans. His toolbox was held loosely in his big hands, and your body flushed with heat. Lost in the brainstorming fog, you hadn’t had a chance to play with Laz and your body reminded you of that. Painfully.

“All done in the bedroom?” You asked.

Terry eyed you and you blinked innocently at him. Even as his eyes made your pussy flutter. Down girl, down girl, DOWN girl…

“Done. Unless you found something I need to fix?” He asked.

You squinted at him but for once, his face was unreadable. You couldn’t tell if that was supposed to be a double entendre or not. Maybe you were just a horny mess. You’d have to look at your period tracker to see if you were ovulating. Because at the moment, you were one step away from asking that man to fix your dripping pussy.

“No, no, no, no. All good,” you muttered. If you couldn’t get some, then at least you could write the filthiest things for Wesley and Gabrielle. As soon as you figured out how they meet.

Terry moved into the kitchen, setting his toolbox down. “I’ll check the windows. There’s a storm moving up here in a week or so. You good on firewood?” He asked.

“I can’t just use the heater?” You asked.

“What if the power goes out?” He asked.

“That really happens? Or are you trying to scare me?” You asked. Well damn. You didn’t have the power going out on your list of tragedies that could happen while you were out here. You knew it could happen but it was rare that you experienced it. One of the pitfalls of staying in someone else’s place. You didn’t have all of your emergency kits.

There was one in your rental car but that was inadequate as hell. You sighed. Fuck. You were going to have to venture into town anyway. You glanced at your laptop. You had the major story beats fleshed out, but filling in the rest was giving you a headache behind your eye.

Still, you itched to keep going after it with a hammer. You wanted to keep pushing yourself and see if you couldn’t solve your problem. It was like you just weren’t feeling this one for some reason, despite being overjoyed at the sexy idea.

“Not trying to scare you,” he promised.

You pouted. “I haven’t tried lighting a fire yet. So I don’t know about the firewood,” you said, feeling like you were five years old for not checking something so crucial. But! You would give yourself grace. You didn’t know before but now you’d make it a point to check everything before venturing off to la la land in your head.

Terry nodded. “I’ll check then,” he said.

“Thank you. Really,” you said.

“My pleasure, chipmunk,” he said with a chuckle.

“You get on my damn nerves!” You yelled after him as he left the house with a booming chuckle. You shook your head as you waited for him to return.

Though this was meant to be a retreat for you, to explore on your own without the watchful eye of your family, you kind of liked having Terry around. He managed to pull you from your spiraling about your writing in the nick of time. You were able to return to your novel with a second wave of inspiration.

But this meet cute was kicking your Black ass. Like this should have been the easiest part. But it was often the easiest parts that tripped you up the most.

Terry reentered the house, kicking his shoes on the mat before stepping inside. The door banged shut behind him, a strong wind passing over you before dispersing in the warm house.

“Firewood’s low. After it thaws a bit, I’ll chop more,” he said.

Mmm, Terry…chopping wood…mm, mm, mm. You had to go on a date with Laz tonight. Maybe a little post nut clarity would work in your favor.

“Thanks. Is there anything I can get you from the store? I’ll need to head down the mountain after all,” you said.

“Road may be slippery right now. You’d be better off going tomorrow,” he said. He pulled his toolbox closer and flipped it open.

You placed your laptop on the coffee table in front of you and then stood up, letting your inside throw blanket slip from your shoulders. You stretched, your limbs and back popping in some areas as you twisted one way and then another.

You crossed closer to him, going towards the kitchen for a cup of tea. If you were going to brave the outside world, you’d need a little help. As the kettle warmed up on the counter, you faced Terry and leaned against the edge.

How to put this without sounding batshit crazy? “It’s important for me to go today,” you said. “Preferably before the sun goes down.”

Terry scrunched up his face. “Is there a special vampire version of chipmunks I don’t know about?”

“You get on my nerves!” You said and giggled. Terry smirked with you as you giggled and you slowly quieted down. You cleared your throat. “No, it’s just important. I do take my safety seriously. Maybe more so than most.”

Terry eyed you with those beautiful eyes of his before nodding. “Alright, I’ll take you,” he said.

“Wait, what? No, no, no, that’s not what I meant. I can get down myself,” you said.

“No one said you couldn’t. But the roads really can get slippery if you don’t know where to look. The snow doesn’t stick to the ground like it used to and it can make driving those twisting roads more dangerous.”

You put your hands on your hips and stepped closer, nothing but the narrow corner of the kitchen island between you. “I don’t need a babysitter, Terry,” you said.

Terry held up his hands. “I’m not a babysitter. I’m a handyman,” he said.

You pinched your lips together to keep from smiling. He was truly going to make you put him through the wall.

“I wouldn’t feel right letting you go down the mountain by yourself. Not that you’re not capable. But because the roads really are that dangerous. And I’d rather not have to come dig your ass out of a ditch,” he said.

“Ouch,” you said, picturing just that scenario. The roads seemed like a twisty maze, full of sharp corners and narrow lanes. Driving up when the roads were clear in the morning hadn’t been that much of a hassle but you weren’t too sure about going back down. It was why you tried to bring as much stuff with you as you could, to avoid that exact circumstance.

“Go get dressed,” he said, his voice deep and commanding.

You prickled. “Don’t tell me what to do,” you said. Did he hear the breathiness in your voice? Because holy hell. That voice needed to boss you around more often.

Terry lifted his sleeve to look at his watch. “Daylight’s wasting,” he said.

You scowled. “I’m getting dressed because I decided to and because I concede that I don’t know these roads that well. Not because you told me to,” you said.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, eyes dancing with mischief. Ugh. You bet he ran his mama ragged growing up.

The kettle clicked as it was done, the boiling water settling down. You poured a mug full and took it with you to the bedroom and sipped it while you got dressed.

You opted for a simple pair of jeans, boots, and your favorite purple hoodie. You didn’t know how Terry didn’t walk around with a jacket as well. Every bite of air you felt outside chilled you down to the bone.

Leaving your bedroom, Terry eyed you up and down before jerking his head for you to follow. You locked the door behind you and then followed Terry to his truck. Your combined footsteps crunched on the snow underfoot, leaving footprints that quickly disappeared in the gentle snowfall.

You looked up towards the sky, grinning at the overcast sky. Flurries floated down, landing on your cheeks, eyelashes, and lips. You licked away a snowflake that landed on you and looked towards Terry, smiling softly at you.

“You must think I’m silly,” you said.

“Not what I’m thinking,” he said. You stared but he didn’t say anything more. He just smirked and held open the passenger door for you. The truck was bigger up close and you had a hard time holding onto the door and climbing in.

“Here,” Terry said, gently sliding his hands around your waist. You looked over your shoulder at him. He was close enough to see how pretty and long his eyelashes were. It wasn’t fair that he was pretty down to the individual hairs on his lashes.

His big hands felt like heaven on your hips as he helped you lift into his truck. His hands slid from your waist and you missed the heat of it instantly. Terry cleared his throat and then closed the door.

You eyed him as he rounded the front of his truck, climbed in, and started the car. He turned the heater on full blast and before long, you were headed down the mountain. The type of road you were on was paved and everything, but every so often, you’d hit a patch of woods on the side of the road and there were guard rails to prevent you from toppling over.

Terry took the turns slowly, but expertly. Your eyes were drawn to his hands every time the steering wheel slipped through his fingers while he turned. He kept his nails trimmed and clean, causing you to bite your lip, thinking of him fingering you.

No, you stop that, you chastised yourself. He was not a piece of meat. But sweet fuck, the packaging was pretty.

“How’s the writing going?” Terry asked.

“Huh?” You asked. You heard him, you just needed more time to let your brain get off nasty mode. Though, who were you kidding? It stayed nasty.

Terry repeated his question. He took a long turn that caused you to lean against your seatbelt. It dug across your chest and you moved it to a more comfortable spot.

“Good. I think. I can never tell. But I’m still trying to figure out how the characters meet,” you said.

“It’s that important?” He asked.

You nodded, though he didn’t see because he was being a good driver. He kept his eyes faced forward, driving carefully down the road. Every so often, the woods would break and there would be someone’s property, full of horses or cows. You marveled at a large brown cow hanging out just because.

“The meet cute is one of the most important parts of the book. It sets the tone for the relationship,” you said.

“Yeah? How so?” He asked.

“Are you sure you want to hear about all this? You don’t have to be polite,” you said, giving him an easy out.

“I like listening to you,” he said.

Oh. You smiled, looking down at your hands in your lap. You launched into the nitty gritty of romance writing. The less glamorous side of it. It took you a long time to learn when to linger, when to skip ahead, and when to let the characters give into the chemistry. You weren’t always sure you pulled it off, but your sales were steady so you’d take it.

Terry listened the entire time, asking more and more questions to feed his curiosity. He still threw in teases about your voice, the subject matter, and your little smut buddies, your writing group that talked about sex all day long.

He pulled the truck into a plaza with a few different stores spread out. “You’re gonna tell me guys don’t talk about sex all day? Why’s it a problem when women do it?”

Terry pulled into an available parking spot and turned the car off. The chill from outside immediately crept in, forcing the warm air to evaporate. “Sure, but we don’t write it down or send porn to each other,” he said.

“We do not send porn!” You said. Liar, liar. You had sent a porn link to your group chat earlier to discuss the inspo for Wesley.

Terry gave you an incredulous look before getting out of the truck. Your heartbeat sped up as he walked around to your side. His hands would be on you again. You liked it. Perhaps too much, because when he opened the door, you jumped.

“You good?” He asked.

You nodded, not trusting your voice. Terry steadied you by the waist as you climbed out of his massive truck. When he set you on the ground, your hands lingered on his forearms. Realizing you were holding on, you hummed and stepped away with a smile.

You went shopping, picking up essentials for a quick emergency kit. Flashlight with extra batteries, bottled water, granola bars with a long shelf life, back up portable chargers for your phone, extra over the counter meds, first aid kit, whistle, Lysol wipes, hand sanitizer, paper soap, and matches.

Terry’s eyebrows rose with each new item you picked up, working off your memory of your home and work kits. So you liked to be prepared, so what. You were only mildly embarrassed as he walked with you down each aisle, adding in things you hadn’t thought of for snow weather. Extra thick socks, thermals, extra scarf and beanie. Just in case.

“Thank you, Terry, really,” you said as Terry helped put the items in the bed of his truck.

“You can thank me by swinging by the bar with me. I’m pretty hungry. You?” He asked.

You grinned. “Was this your plan all along?” You asked.

“Maybe,” he said and smirked. Ugh. He was too fucking pretty. It made you sick really. Sick with fucking lust. Maybe a drink was just what the doctor ordered.

“Fine. But you could have just asked, you know,” you said.

“I know.” After he helped you in the car, he made the short trip to the bar he told you about.

The parking lot was large but mostly empty. It was nearing the evening and the temperature dropped bit by bit, your breath escaping in clouds. Terry escorted you up the long wooden stairs towards the earthy bar.

Inside, the place was bigger than you expected with two distinct sections. On the right, there were dining tables set up for bigger groups. Some of those tables were filled up and there were TVs stationed around turned to various games.

Terry said hello to the staff as he escorted you to the left, where the main bar was set up. The tables on this side sat higher off the ground and it had bar stools pushed close to the table. There was a door that led out onto a patio for outside dining but no one sat outside at the moment.

Terry pulled out a bar stool for you and helped you climb on. He effortlessly sat, his long legs having no trouble touching the ground. Bastard.

The bartender, introduced as Adam, came around to take your drink orders. “I am a cider girlie. What’s good?” You asked Adam.

Adam stroked his silky salt and pepper beard and looked behind him. “We got a few things. How you feel about blueberry?”

“Blueberry cider?” You asked.

Adam grinned. “If you don’t like it, it’s on the house,” he said. Adam leaned forward on the bar top and you smiled back. Oh, he was adorable.

Terry cleared his throat. “How’s Melissa?” Terry asked, bringing a beer to his lips and sipping.

Adam’s smile didn’t waver. “She left me. I’m all alone in my modest, but spacious house,” Adam said, never taking his eyes from you.

You giggled and waved him off. “Oh stop!” You said.

“With a beautiful woman like you, how can I?” Adam asked.

Terry made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a growl. You side eyed him as he shared a glance with Adam. Adam knocked on the bar top with a grin and then moved away to grab you a blueberry cider. He popped the top for you and waited for you to take a sip.

It was…actually delicious. You nodded. “Okay, not bad, Adam,” you said.

Adam’s permanent grin spread wider. “I aim to please,” he said.

You hid your giggle behind your hand and shook your head. “Did Melissa really leave you?” You asked.

Adam groaned and looked at Terry. “Thanks, T. Yes, she really did. But only to visit her parents. I still needed to work,” Adam said.

“Aw, why’d you get stuck with holiday duty? You piss off the boss?”

“He is the boss,” Terry grumbled.

You smiled at him. These two. “I bet ya’ll get into so much trouble together,” you said.

“Too much. And it was always Terry’s idea,” Adam said.

“Fuck outta here,” Terry said and chuckled. Adam launched into a story about growing up with Terry, running around like the latch key kids they were. Adam had dared Terry to jump off a rock formation near a creek which got both their asses handed to them by Terry’s mama.

You laughed through the story, Adam an amazing storyteller. Terry filled in details grudgingly, pulled from him the more Adam kept going.

Your food arrived in the middle of Adam speaking. You ordered tiger sauce wings and the chicken was huge. It came with fries and you immediately dug in, your hunger taking over something vicious.

Adam finally left you two alone as Adam had to tend to more and more people as the night dragged on.

“Your friend is funny,” you said.

Terry grunted. “But he doesn’t get on your nerves?” He asked.

“Nope. Guess you bring it out of me,” you said.

Terry rolled his eyes but dug into his own steak and potatoes. You both lobbed questions back and forth, learning more about each other now than over the two weeks he fixed minor things around the rental.

You downed cider after cider, getting lost in the way Terry told stories. He had a slower approach than Adam, but he was no less engaging. With that voice of his, he set the scene perfectly as a narrator.

The cider warmed you from the inside out, making your face flush with heat. But it was Terry’s voice that had something else flushing as well. Your pussy fluttered every time he licked the corner of his mouth while he spoke.

It ached every time you spoke and his focus was completely on you. He didn’t blink away, he didn’t look down, he didn’t interrupt. It only highlighted how much you craved that. Your family and friends only had so much patience for you before they were off, dominating the conversation in ways you couldn’t actively participate in. It felt more like they just wanted someone to talk at, not with.

Not the case with Terry. He included you in the conversation, stretching it, and flowed effortlessly from one topic to the next. There was rarely a lull in your conversation and your heads dipped closer and closer together the more you spoke.

The crisp apple and blueberry taste coated your tongue but also loosened your lips. “I see it all so clearly in my head, but then I get too much in my head, and it all comes crashing down. I can’t connect with this one for some reason,” you said.

Terry had asked you more about novel writing, the concept completely foreign to him. He confessed that he didn’t think that much effort went into it. Maybe not for others. But for you, it felt like you agonized over every single word. Were you true to the characters? Did anything make sense? Would it hit for others like it hit for you?

“Why’s it not connecting for you?” Terry sipped his second beer, as sober as a judge. While you felt too relaxed.

You sighed and looked away from him, peeling the label off of the bottle with your nail. “No offense, but men. I usually have a man to play with while writing to keep the inspiration going but sex-only arrangements only work if the guy initiates it. If I tell them I don’t want anything more, that’s when they get in their feelings,” you said with a shiver.

Terry’s grin spread slowly across his lips, revealing a neat row of teeth. Oh, my. He was damn delicious. “So you treat them like a ho and they get mad?”

“Yes!” You tapped his shoulder. Finally, a man who got you. “Like ugh, I know what I want and it’s not these dudes I find. I won’t settle for anything less than what I write about on the daily. So no, I don’t want to date, a girl just wants to get fucked, you know? No talking, no giggling, just work me over like a screen door in a hurricane and then get the fuck out,” you said. You nodded your head to emphasize your point.

You sighed deeply and smiled at Terry, your eyes drooping. You were a little tipsy. Terry lifted an eyebrow and then your words echoed in your mind. Your jaw dropped. Oh god. You were mortified.

“I-I am so sorry. That was so rude,” you said.

Terry lifted his fingers in a small wave. “Naw, you’re good,” he said.

“No, wow. That was inappropriate. I’m sorry. I-I’m sorry. We should go, please,” you said.

Terry turned towards you on the bar stool. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one that asked, chipmunk,” he said.

Your cheeks were still on fire. It was one thing to talk like this with your girlfriends or your sister, or even your writing group. That was normal. But you talked with Terry as if you’d known him forever. It took you one business year to make friends, putting them through the gauntlet to see if they’d actually stick around. More than that to let your freak flag fly.

“If you truly want to go, we will. But I promise, we’re cool. You don’t have to censor yourself around me,” he said.

And somehow, that permission made your shoulders droop from around your ears. You nodded, taking a sip of water. You didn’t have to apologize for being true to yourself. And it was like you crossed some invisible social boundary with Terry. Conversation flowed more smoothly, your heads dipped closer together, and your shoulders brushed against each other.

“So what are you looking for then? If not these dudes you meet,” he said.

You spent the rest of the night diving into past dating history and what you looked for in a partner. Terry shared what he liked as well. Someone that laughed at his world-stopping jokes, someone kind, and someone goofy.

Instantly, you compared yourself to the small list of women he’d been with. The traits he looked for. Did you fit the bill? Were you someone he could shove through the mattress?

It seemed wild to think about that even though you already swore him off. It wasn’t that you weren’t interested. You were too interested. Too aware. Too conscious of him. Of the way he moved, talked, or laughed. You anticipated what would make him smile, what would make him groan, or what would make him roll his eyes.

He was hands down the only man that could make you lose your marbles and you hadn’t even taken him to bed. The thought filled you with so much dread and fear, that you had to push him away to stay sane. You had to keep him firmly on the other side of the brain before your inner romantic started planning your wedding in your mind.

You could easily fall for Terry Richmond. And you weren’t sure if you were strong enough to survive if he couldn’t. Not in the way you wanted. Not in the way you craved. Not in the way you wrote about, book after book, story after story, chasing a phantom man in your mind that loved you in the way you hungered for.

Adam called last call and gave Terry the sober vibe check. Which consisted of Terry holding his middle finger to nose while standing on one leg for a minute. You laughed at the sight, instantly taking a picture because there was no chance in hell you wanted to forget the look on his face.

He flipped you the bird while he settled with Adam and then escorted you outside. The wind was bitter, biting through your jacket and hoodie. Terry stepped closer to you, taking the brunt of it as the wind came from his direction.

You joked on the way to his truck, nudging him every so often as you walked. The liquor loosened you both up, navigating the newfound familiarity together. Whether it was by intention or by accident, the touches were not unwelcome.

At his car, you leaned against the truck. You nudged your chin towards the bar. “It’s a great place. I see why you wanted to show it to me,” you said.

He leaned a hand against the car, blocking most of the wind. But it had the added benefit of bringing him warmth closer. He smelled delicious like the outside air he belonged to. Like pine needles and cinnamon.

“Figured you might. Did it help with your book?” He asked.

You gasped. “Was that the goal?” You asked.

He shrugged. “A little. I figured you were too in your head,” he said.

“You think you know me, Terry Richmond,” you said and tapped his chest. He rocked back on his heels as if it actually hurt him and you rolled your eyes.

“No. But I’m learning to,” he said.

You giggled nervously as you blinked up at him. Light from the signs on the bar barely reached, but it highlighted him from behind. Light cut across his jaw and cheek and made his lashes glow at the tip.

Terry stepped closer, giving you all the room to step away or block him. But that was the last thing your body wanted. You stayed put, sliding your hands against his broad chest. Your fingers curled around the fabric and he sighed.

He brought his face closer to yours and inhaled. You hummed just as his lips pressed against yours. There was nothing hurried about it. Nothing filthy or salacious. But it warmed you from the tip of your toes to the top of your head.

Terry drew back and looked you in the eyes. You didn’t need to say anything. Didn’t need to share anything. You supposed kissing him was inevitable. Fated.

Terry tucked you into his truck and his hands lingered, reluctantly letting you go only because you were seated and there was nothing to help with anymore. You smiled at him and he finally closed the door. It gave you enough time to let loose the breath you held as he walked around.

He drove carefully back up the mountain. Snow had stuck to the road in some areas, so Terry went extra slow to be careful. If it weren’t for his huge lights, you wouldn’t be able to see a got damn thing.

It was pitch black outside, as if the world had disappeared during your ascent. As soon as the headlights passed on to something else, the darkness encroached and gobbled it back up. It was trippy. Yet strangely called to your inner emo.

The ride was mostly silent, soft music playing on the radio too low for you to pick up words. Terry found your rental without a hitch and came around to let you out of his truck. He walked with you to the front door and hovered outside of it while you stepped in.

You put your head on the door, swinging back and forth. In a minute, Terry would have to fix that one too. You giggled at your joke and Terry smirked.

“What’s so funny, chipmunk?” He asked.

You told him and Terry groaned and shook his head. “That was a terrible joke,” he said.

“What! No it wasn’t!” You squeaked with your outrage, sputtering for the right words to defend yourself. You could call your jokes bad, he couldn’t. You didn’t know why just yet, but he couldn’t.

“Was to,” he said and stepped closer. Terry’s eyes drooped as he leaned his shoulder against the door frame. He took up the majority of it, so large and imposing. Yet his energy was nothing but peaceful and quiet, setting you at ease in a way only a thorough cleaning could achieve.

“Was not,” you said, holding your ground. You wanted to invite him in. Wanted to go ahead and explore what he started.

Terry sighed and dug his hands in his hoodie pocket. “Goodnight, chipmunk,” he said.

Oh. You matched his sigh and rolled your eyes. “Good night, Terry,” you said. You’d have to think of a good nickname for him. Like Big Bird…Clifford…whenever it came to you, you were gonna hit him with it.

Terry stepped back and waited while you closed and locked the door. You heard his boots travel down the steps and into his awaiting truck.

You leaned your back against the cold door and sighed once more. If you were a chipmunk, then the only tree you wanted to climb was him.

“Girl,” you said, drawing the word out.

“Girl, what?” Your best friend, Whitley, asked.

“This motherfucker out here chopping wood on Christmas Eve,” you said. Terry stopped by a week later, finally coming around to chop more wood for the fireplace. You had forgotten all about it, feeling better now that you had an upgraded emergency kit.

But then Terry took off his hoodie, revealing a silver blue T-shirt that really brought out the blue in his eyes. He blamed the storm, criticizing you for not paying more attention to the weather channel.

Um, and miss bingeing Alex Cross for the umpteenth time? Yeah, no thanks. You called him an old man while he grinned and went outside, round to the side. There was a tree stump there and a small pile of chopped firewood.

Terry took the larger, whole pieces and went to work. Some he cracked in one go, his powerful muscles bunching and contracting with the effort. The axe was decisive, snapping and echoing in the surrounding woods.

Terry used the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow and you got a front row seat to his abs.

You moaned into the phone and Whitley grunted. “Girl, uh uh. Put me on video or something. You can’t be moaning like that and I don’t get to see too.”

Fair, she was right. You hurried and put her on video, tilting the phone to look at him through the window. Though he faced forward, he rarely looked up while he worked on the firewood as if it stole something from him.

You bit your lip, needing that same focus while he fucked you stupid. You wanted to be fucked so hard that you forgot your ABCs.

“Oh damn,” Whitley said, moaning with you.

Lord, he was fine. This so wasn’t fair. Not even in the slightest. “And you ain’t rode that big dawg yet?” Whitley asked.

“Girl, no. Look at him. He would snap my ass in half and then eat my heart on his way out,” you said.

Terry took a break, lodging the axe in the tree stump. He wiped his forehead with his shirt once more and you and Whitley sighed in appreciation. Wisps of his breath clouded in the air, sunlight shining brightly on Terry.

“I say this with all the love in my heart. You stupid ho, go ride that man!” Whitley yelled into the phone. Since she was on speaker, you ducked in case Terry looked towards you. He didn’t need to see you being a creeper.

When you deemed it safe, you slowly stood back up. Terry stretched his thick biceps, causing his shirt to ride up. His belly peeked from underneath, giving you a glimpse of his belly button. You felt no better than an 18th century man but your core was in full agreement. Your clit throbbed, painfully. His tattoos poked out from beneath his short sleeves and you wondered what the story was behind each one.

“Now what if he looked over here? Now we both looking stupid ‘cause you don’t know how to shut up,” you said.

Whitley giggled and sighed. Terry picked up the axe and continued chopping. He leaned forward, grabbing a whole piece, and then placed it on the stump. He hefted the axe above his head and let it fall with force behind it, splitting it in two.

“Got damn. Maybe I need to visit you up there, friend,” Whitley teased.

“Um, no,” you said.

Whitley giggled. “Then if that’s your man, go get him!”

You grumbled to her, listing off reasons why you absolutely shouldn’t. But night after night, little Laz Alonso wasn’t cutting it. Ever since the bar, ever since the kiss, you hadn’t been able to keep him from your mind.

It was his face that you stroked yourself too. His voice that you moaned to. His eyes that set you off but it was empty. Sure it felt good, but you needed more. You needed the heft of a man on top of you, splitting you open, talking nasty in ya ear.

Spicy audios and a vibrator just didn’t have the same effect. Not when you wanted some body heat. When you wanted the rough scratch of a beard on your skin. Fingers buried to the knuckle.

“What am I gonna do when he get me addicted to that monster in his pants and I can’t have no more? You really want me out here like a crackhead, begging for dick? You wanna come bail me out of jail because I was banging on his door at 3am?” You asked.

Whitley howled with laughter as you kept going, describing all the ways Terry would have you acting out of character. And you wouldn’t feel a lick of shame about it. You’d stand outside buck ass nekkid in the cold, brutal winter if it meant you’d get to hop on it again.

“Stop, my stomach hurt! Stop it!” Whitley yelled in between pulls of air.

You finally giggled with her, eyes still on Terry. The pile of wood next to him grew more and more and you wondered how long he expected this storm to last? Or if he had that little faith in the central heating.

Terry glanced towards the house and you ducked, heart in your throat. “I think he saw me,” you whispered.

Whitley giggled and shook her head. “How you gonna explain that one?” She asked.

“I’ll tell if you if works,” you said. You hung up with her and then grabbed two bottles of water from the pantry.

You threw on your hoodie and jacket, leaving the house. You slid-walked towards the side of the house, the snow giving way and making you earn it. You huffed as you made it around the side.

Terry stopped chopping and watched you struggle. He lodged the axe into the stump and then placed his hands on his narrow hips. The silver blue T-shirt clung to his body with sweat. If he were to wring it out, you’d bet it’d fill a bucket.

When you got closer, Terry lifted an eyebrow. “You know chipmunks s’posed to hibernate in the winter,” he said.

“Oh shut up,” you said, shaking your head. “I saw you struggling so I decided to come give you the break you needed.”

You handed him the bottle of water and then unscrewed your own. “Saw me struggling, huh,” he said, his voice deeper than normal. Or were you imagining it? Fuck. You were losing touch with reality now.

His eyes slanted towards you as he tilted his head back and gulped down the bottle of water. He didn’t stop for a breath. He kept going, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the action. His bicep could probably crush steel. Veins ran down the length of his arm and saliva pooled in your mouth.

“That’s a lot of firewood,” you said, your voice unnaturally rough. You cleared your throat and drank your own water.

You finally figured out how Wesley and Gabrielle meet so the rest of Act 1 flew from your fingers. You made it to the part where they have sex for the first time and Gabrielle would discover that Wesley was an investigator.

You’d had sex on the brain all day. A little obsessively so considering it was Christmas Eve. So Terry being out here, looking like that and chopping wood like that... It was like a cosmic nudge in the pants to ride him ‘till the cows came home. Your resolve weakened the more you spent in his presence. This was why you needed to stop listening to Whitley’s ass.

“Want to make sure you’re prepared,” he said, his accent seeping through his words.

You drank more of your water, shivering as a brutal wind kicked up. “Oh, that’s cold,” you said. Was that the universe telling you to take your ass in the house? Surely, it would be on your side, telling you to keep your eye on the prize and not fuck the incredibly hot handyman.

The wind blew again, the cold light of the sun disappearing all together. You looked upwards. Clouds rolled across the sky as the temperature dropped ten degrees. “Fuck,” you shivered, rubbing your arms.

Terry scowled. “The storm’s early. Go get inside,” he said.

Overhead, trees swayed violently with the gathering wind. “What about the firewood?” You asked.

“I got it,” he said. He waved for you to go ahead of him but you didn’t want to just leave him to do all the work. He moved carefully, heading to the side of the house and grabbed a blue tarp. He jogged to the stump and loaded the tarp with firewood. “Go get inside!”

“It’ll be faster if I help,” you called back over the wind.

You ran towards the stack, helping him load it with the firewood he chopped. He scowled but he couldn’t argue with you once you started. In no time, you had it loaded with as much firewood as he could move.

He pushed you towards the house, pulling on the tarp and dragged it across the snow. Snow flurries kicked up and swirled around you as you ran-slid towards the front door. Terry was hot on your heels, huffing, clouds of breath in front of him.

You held onto the railing as you jogged up the steps, already knowing Terry wouldn’t want you to help with the wood. He gathered up all four corners and lifted with his knees, carrying the tarp up the stairs like it was nothing.

You opened the door, the wind doing most of the work. The door banged against the wall and Terry stomped in after and dropped the firewood. “Close the door,” he said and went back outside.

“Wait!” You called after him. He kept walking so you did as he said, closing the door behind him. You had to push against the wind but you finally managed to close it. You looked outside of the window beside the door.

The snow blew around hard and fast, obscuring visibility minute by minute. You could barely make out Terry’s outline as he ran to his truck and opened the bed. He pulled out a bag and then closed the bed of the truck, locking it behind him. He jogged towards the front door, holding his bare arm up as he did so.

A second later, he opened the door, entered, and then closed it behind him. He shook himself out, flinging snow across the entrance. “I’ll clean that up,” he said. Water clung to his scruffy beard and plastered his shirt to his body. His nipples poked out and you dragged your eyes away.

“You need to get in the shower, now,” you said.

“What?” Terry asked and his eyes went wide.

“The last thing you want to do is get sick. Go warm your body up in the shower. I’ll throw your clothes in the dryer,” you said. Your words sunk in a second later and then you giggled. “I mean, leave your clothes outside the door, obviously.”

Terry smirked, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you,” he said. He nodded towards the fireplace. “You know how to start that? We should conserve power tonight, just in case.”

“I agree. But no, still haven’t learned how to start it. You go get in the shower, the heater will be fine for now,” you said.

Terry looked like he wanted to argue, pinching his lips together. But then he shook his head and took off towards the bathroom. He peeled off his shirt as he went and you bit your lip.

Sweet fuck, that was not what you meant! Got damn. Your eyes widened as you looked at the dip in his back. The expanse of shoulders. The tattoo on the back of his right arm. Sweet fuck, almighty.

Terry looked back at you as he went into the bathroom. He ducked to enter and then shut the door behind him. He caught you staring. He so, so caught you staring. A beat later, he opened the door and tossed out his shirt, jeans, and socks. Not his underwear though. Bastard.

You put the items in the dryer and let it run for a cycle. You closed the closet doors on the other side of the kitchen and then started up a kettle. Your fingers tapped on the countertop waiting for the water to finish.

All the while, the shower was loud through the walls. On the other side of it, Terry was showering. He was naked. He was running soap all over that massive, long body. Your panties grew so damp, you wondered if you had enough time to dry them before he got out of the shower.

You needed all the strength you could muster. Because right now, you couldn’t remember a single fucking reason why you couldn’t hop on Terry’s dick. Really, what was the price of heartbreak? A wild ride in the sack? It just may be worth it for Terry Richmond.

The shower turned off just as the kettle clicked off beside you. You jumped and then closed your eyes. You were an adult. You could keep yourself in check.

You poured some tea for yourself but you weren’t sure what he drank. You didn’t like beer so you didn’t have any in the house. You weren’t expecting any visitors.

Wind blew against the window making you jump once more. You were too hyperaware. Too attune with every little noise or screech.

You retrieved his clothes from the dryer and then knocked on the door. Terry opened it a crack and you made sure to keep your eyes on his face. Nowhere south. “Clothes,” you said.

“Thanks,” he said. He opened the door wider and grabbed his clothes from you. His fingers grazed yours and you gasped. He was so soft and warm. Steam poured out the room, fanning across your face. He smelled like your soap and you bit back a moan.

“Yup,” you squeaked and then left him to it. Tea, tea, all you needed was some tea. Some sleepytime tea to do the trick. But you weren’t sure how you were going to sleep with a storm raging outside.

You hated to admit it but your winter getaway turned out to be anything but idyllic. And you had a teensy, smallish, not even worth mentioning fear of storms. It was the bigness of it. The fact that it made you feel so tiny, so insignificant, so aware of your mortality. That nature was the foremost authority and you lived and breathed by its good graces.

It was an annoying feeling to you as a writer. You created entire worlds at whim. Played with characters like dolls. But you held no such power in real life.

Terry left the bathroom, his footfalls softer now that he wasn’t wearing boots. Freshly dressed in his warm clothes, he looked younger without his beanie. He sported a mini, curled afro atop his head. It gave him a mountain man sort of look, like he would be at home out there in the woods.

“Thanks,” he said.

You nodded. “I wasn’t sure if you were into tea,” you said.

Terry waved you off. “Water is fine,” he said. He moved over towards the living room and opened the tarp on the floor. He knelt on one leg as he worked on stoking a fire to life. The flames gathered traction, flicking orange and yellow light across his features.

You rolled the bag of tea around a spoon to squeeze excess water out. Then you doctored it how you liked, adding in cold water. You grabbed a bottle of water and headed to the living room as Terry finished with the fireplace.

Terry accepted the bottle, drinking down half of it while he turned off the main heater and sat on the other side of the couch.

“Looks like we’re having a sleepover. Did you plan this too?” You asked.

“If I were powerful enough to control the weather, I’d use it for more nefarious purposes,” Terry said.

“Like what?” You asked, your curiosity piqued.

Terry chuckled. “And give up my evil plan? Naw. I ain’t grow up on a chicken farm,” he said.

You laughed and shook your head. “What?” You asked, chuckling more.

Terry laughed with you. “Chicken Run?” He asked.

“Shut up, you ain’t seen that movie,” you said.

Terry scoffed. “Bet,” he said.

“What’s the young rooster’s name?” You asked.

“Rocky, try again,” he said.

You squinted at him as you thought of your next question. Something only a true fan would know. “Who was the first chicken to go through Mrs. Tweedy’s chicken pie machine?” You asked.

Terry sucked in a breath and widened his eyes. “Okay, tough. But it was Ginger,” he said.

You looked at him and raised your eyebrows, trying to cast doubt on his answer. He matched your stare, smirk on his lips, and didn’t fold.

“Okay, fine, you’re right,” you huffed.

Terry laughed and drank the rest of his bottled water. You fell into a comfortable silence, both lost in your thoughts. “I haven’t seen Chicken Run in a while,” Terry said.

“Me neither. We should see if it’s streaming,” you said. You turned on the TV and snuggled under your inside throw blanket. With the heat blowing across your legs, you felt warmer than the heater could ever achieve.

Before long, you were both laughing at the shenanigans of the claymation movie. You both tossed out quotes, going back and forth about things you noticed in the movie.

One movie turned to two, throwing on How the Grinch Stole Christmas. It was among your favorite Christmas movies and a perfect distraction against the raging storm outside. The wind knocked harshly against the window every so often, causing your eyes to dart to it and your heart rate to speed up. You hated being such a baby sometimes.

But, giving yourself grace, storms really could be scary. If it knocked the power out, it could also knock over trees into the house or onto someone’s car. Storms were devastating and of course you’d find them a bit scary.

Terry scooted closer. “You afraid of storms?” He asked. His voice was like butter melting over a freshly baked biscuit. You hummed and decided to be honest.

“There’s so many things that could happen in a storm,” you told him.

He nodded. “I got something to help with that,” he said.

You turned to him and hummed for him to respond. He scooted closer on the couch, close enough for your shoulder to lean on his. You giggled at his solution. “Stop hugging the throw too,” he murmured and you giggled.

“This helps storms, huh?”

Terry nodded. “Hell yeah. Feel better?”

You pinched your lips together but went on and nodded. “It has its merits.”

As you worked on Wesley and Gabrielle’s relationship, you couldn’t help picturing how Terry would be in a relationship. Would he be the perfect boyfriend? Would he be as annoying as he usually was, always poking at you?

“Before we get comfortable, we should grab some drinks. I only have tequila or wine,” you said.

“I’ll take the tequila,” he said, making a face. You laughed and rolled your eyes at him. You got up and went to the kitchen, grabbing your favorite tequila and two shot glasses. You turned off the kitchen light on your way back, bathing the living room in darkness. The flames in the fireplace flickered across the wall, still pumping out delicious heat.

You poured a shot for each of you, clinked the glasses, and then drank. During the movie, you talked and joked, also quoting this movie back and forth. Terry’s laugh was so adorable and infectious. Was there anything on this man that didn’t scramble your brain?

He breathed and you were ready to drop your panties and beg for his dick. You were not above begging. But your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth. You wanted it too badly but you wrestled with your brain. You shouldn’t but you oh so wanted to.

“Can I confess something?” Terry asked.

You turned your head to him. You had managed to curl into his side, soaking in the heat of his body. You felt every rise and fall of his chest. You licked your lips and Terry’s eyes drooped down.

“What is it, Terry?” You asked.

Terry licked his own lips and you couldn’t resist following the movement with your eyes. His lips were so big, so juicy.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about our kiss,” he said. His voice was so soft, so velvety, that your shoulders dropped and you leaned in.

“Me neither,” you said. You shook your head. The kiss invaded all of your senses, leading to distraction even when Terry wasn’t there. All week, you caught yourself veering off to replay the kiss over and over again.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the moment you threatened me with a poker,” he said and smiled.

Your chest rose and fell in waves, processing what he was saying. “Don’t play with me, Terry Richmond,” you said. You just couldn’t stand it if he were.

“When you said what you said at the bar, I wondered what kind of man you’d take to bed. And then I started thinking that I wanted to be the only one in your bed,” he said.

Your mouth dropped open. It’s not that you didn’t know you were gorgeous. It’s not that you didn’t think you could pull someone like Terry. It was the fact that he said it so plainly. So openly. So clearly for your brain to not misinterpret his words. You didn’t have to guess with him. And that was one of the sexiest things ever.

You blinked a few times. “I–”

“And then I started hoping that you’d let me audition,” he said.

“Audition?” You asked. What the hell was he on about?

Terry grinned and then leaned closer, bringing his large hand to cup your face. His thumb stroked across your cheek. Your eyes slowly blinked closed, your skin tingling where he stroked. His warm breath fanned across your face, smelling faintly like tequila.

He rubbed his lips against yours but it wasn’t a full kiss. And that made you want it more. You wanted his lips on yours. You would simply die without it.

“Let me show off my skills. If I do well, you can use me as inspiration for your latest book,” he said.

You giggled, biting the inside of your cheek. “And what do you get out of the arrangement?” You asked.

“You,” he said.

You gasped, staring into his eyes. The low light made his features stand out more. It made his expressions more severe, more striking. You were at a loss for words. This man handed over everything you wanted on a silver platter.

You were so nervous to accept. You had been let down in so many ways by so many men. You had reached a point where you weren’t actively looking for a relationship. You didn’t need some raggedy boy in your phone.

But Terry was a man. A huge, perfect, wonderful man who got on your last fucking nerve. He always had something smart to say or some new quip to lob at you. But he was also thoughtful. Kind. Funny. Sexy as fucking sin.

“Are you sure? What if you don’t pass?” You asked.

“Then I’d like to keep trying until you tell me to leave,” he said. He licked your lips and you sighed, ending on a moan.

“Okay, what will you do for your audition?” You asked. The tequila traveled straight south, making your pussy throb. Your inner thighs tingled even as your breathing increased.

Terry smirked. He finally crashed his lips to yours, kissing you harshly, brutally. Like he had merely been caged before and you finally set him free. You brought your hands up to his neck, pulling him closer.

Your moans combined and danced as you leaned closer, pushed harder, kissed back just as fiercely as he did.

His hands moved underneath your shirt, hands wrapped around your sides, gripping onto your meaty flesh. You moaned, arching your back into him. Terry pulled you closer, made you straddle him.

An impressive bulge rubbed against your core and you moaned, closing your eyes. Fuck, you were overstimulated already and nothing even happened yet. You knew he had a monster in his pants. You just knew it.

You made out with Terry like a horny teenager, clashing teeth and biting at each other’s lips. You grinded in his lap, rubbing yourself against him. He groaned, hands lowering to cup your ass. He took two big scoops and squeezed hard, causing you to squeak.

“O-Oh fuck,” you moaned. The pain hurt so good. He kneaded your ass and you dropped your forehead to his shoulder. You moaned low, breathing harshly through your nose.

“You are so fucking beatiful,” he murmured against your temple.

“Terry, fuck, I’ve wanted you so bad,” you moaned.

“Why didn’t you say?” He asked.

You shook your head. You couldn’t speak. Didn’t want to speak. Your body moved on its own accord, rubbing against his hot erection.

Terry moved one of his hands to grip your chin and force you to look at him. “Why?” He demanded.

“You could break me. And that scares me,” you whispered.

“How do you think I feel?” He asked. “You could rip me apart.”

You crashed your lips to his, scratched at the nape of his neck. He returned his hand to your ass to squeeze, knead, and mold with his large hands. You moaned into his mouth, needing more friction.

Terry grabbed you by the waist and pulled you off of him. He made quick work of your jeans, pulled them down your legs, and off in one quick snap. You squealed with laughter, at the physicality of him, yet he still remained sweet and gentle.

Terry peeled your panties from your body and he groaned. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispered, his voice one of awe. He slipped your panties off as well, biting your thighs as he pulled, and tossed it over his shoulder.

Your pussy throbbed looking at the way he stared at the heart of you. The smell of your arousal permeated the air and you moaned, smelling how turned on you were. He pushed at your thighs until they rested against your stomach.

He blew his breath across your pussy gently. “Oh, shit,” you twitched, hand reaching down to cling to his afro.

Terry groaned and blew once more, lowering his face until he was close enough to lick you from entrance to clit and back again. Your back bucked off of the couch, grinding into his face.

Terry moaned and wrapped his thick lips around your clit. He suckled sloppily, licking you like a dog with its favorite toy. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” you moaned, your stomach caving in and your eyes rolling back.

His tongue was the sweetest torture of pleasure against your pussy. His drool mixed with your essence, causing his sloppy eating to echo in the living room. “Fuck, that pussy good,” he sputtered against your sopping wet pussy.

“Oh fuck!” You screamed, your orgasm tearing through you too fast for you to comprehend. You flopped on the couch as your body shook and twisted with pleasure. Terry kept eating, slurping up the latest wave of essence on his tongue.

His beard grew more wet, sliding against your skin. It tickled and you wiggled, trying to move. Terry locked his arms around your thighs, shoving his face further into your pussy. His nose tickled the top of your mound and you groaned and moaned, loving the attention but unable to stand the tickling.

“Hmmmm,” he moaned, shaking his head. His tongue flicked across your clit without mercy, suckling on the swollen nub.

“Shit! Shit! Wait! Fuck!” You panted. You were out of breath, hardly able to make any sounds as Terry continued to eat you like a starving man to bread. Your stomach caved in once more, your lungs refusing to work any longer.

You pushed at his forehead but he kept going. Your eyes rolled backwards, your thighs clenched around his head as another orgasm tore through you, yanking your soul around like a ping pong ball.

Your pussy clenched and unclenched, wanting attention too. “Fuck me, fuck me,” you begged. You loved that he was a munch, Loved, loved it. But fuck you needed to be filled up. You needed to feel him deep in it.

“Not done yet,” Terry said. He came up for air, his face shiny with your juices. He licked his lips and closed his eyes, savoring it. When he opened it again, he narrowed his eyes. “Show me those pretty chocolate nipples.”

Your belly flipped painfully. Pussy throbbed. You lifted your shirt slowly, giving him a slight tease. Your overheated skin tingled with awareness as the cotton shifted across your body.

You revealed your titties and Terry groaned and rolled his hips into the bed. He winked at you. “Play with them while I eat,” he said. He returned to lapping at your pussy and your thighs squeezed around his face.

You were too sensitive. You jerked with every flick, every suck, and every glide of his lips. Your thighs shook with passion, tingled, and tensed. But you managed to pinch and roll your nipples, squeezing in time with his licks. “Please, please, Terry, fuck! I can’t!”

He pushed two fingers inside to pump in and out of your entrance. He wrapped his lips around your clit and used some kind of devil, voodoo magic to create a sucking vortex that had you seeing an entire galaxy behind your eyelids. Your mind flashed with dense clouds of pinks, violets, fiery oranges, and the softest greens.

You lost all ability to speak as another orgasm was wrung from you. You bowed forward, pushing his head into your clit as you came and came with howls and screams loud enough to wake the dead.

White and black spots danced in your vision as you suffered through aftershocks, ribbons of pleasure causing your nerves to go haywire. “Fuck, fuck,” you twitched.

You didn’t have the words nor the presence of mind to process what the hell just happened. You were spent. Put out. Dangle you on the clothesline to air out because you were out of it.

Terry came up for air with a growl, kissing your inner thighs, then your stomach, then climbed up your body to capture your lips with his own. He smeared your essence all over your face and you locked tongues with him eagerly.

You tasted too good on his tongue. Smelled too good on his lips. “Did I pass? I get the job?” Terry asked in between kissing you stupid.

You nodded and licked your lips, tasting more of yourself. “You got it, you got it,” you panted.

“I don’t have a condom, but–”

“I’m clean and on the pill,” you said. You kept up with that shit religiously, setting an alarm and everything. You were too chicken to try any other methods.

“I swear I’m clean,” he said, going back to kissing your lips. You moaned, and rubbed against his body.

“Fuck me,” you whined.

Terry chuckled. “Keep begging, chipmunk,” he groaned. He managed to continue kissing you while he ditched his jeans and underwear. His jeans dropped to the floor with a loud flop. His shirt went next, his muscles bunching as he lifted it off of him.

He removed your shirt as well, hands coming around to grab your titties. He pushed them together, lowering his mouth to suck on both nipples at the same time. You jerked and whined, grinding on the couch.

“Please, Terry, fuck me. Fuck me, I need it. I need your big dick to split me open,” you begged.

Terry groaned and moved his right hand between you. He rubbed his dick up and down your folds, gathering up all the slick he could to coat his dick. He pushed into your entrance and your pussy started talking.

“Mmm, growl at me,” he moaned. “Fuck.”

He dipped the head of his dick in and out of you, slowly, your pussy doing more than growling as he toyed with your aching hole. You cried every time his tip stretched you. He was easily the biggest you’d ever taken.

Terry put his left hand on your chest and moved his right hand up to your clit. This thumb pressed on your clit and a strangled noise burst from your throat. “I need you inside me,” you whined. “Please, please.” Your eyes watered.

You were going to lose your mind in a minute. You would dissolve into a puddle of goo or start barking like a dog if he teased you any more.

Terry moved his thumb in circles around your clit, causing you to sputter and moan, completely lost to the sensation. “Eyes on me,” he commanded.

Your eyes snapped open to him. To the softest gray and darkest blue of his eyes. His eyebrows curved in a severe arch. The same focus he had while chopping wood, he brought to killing you slowly from the inside out.

His thumb made your pussy relax enough for him to sink in deeper, further, aided by the fresh slick leaking out of you. If it weren’t for the throw blanket, you were sure you’d have to buy Mr. Omar a brand new couch.

“So wet. Fuck, you’re gripping my shit tough,” he moaned. He flicked his thumb harder.

You sniffled, tears running down your cheeks. “Please, I can’t. I can’t no more!” You yelled.

Terry leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. You moaned and played with his thick tongue, licked his juicy lips, and gently bit his bottom lip. He moaned. “I say when you’re done,” he said.

“Oh fuck,” you said as you lost all control over your body. Terry pushed all the way down to the hilt with a guttural groan. Veins popped out of his neck as he used you to hold some of his weight.

His dick throbbed, pulsed in time with his own heartbeat inside you. His dick pushed up against your sweet spot and before long, you were cumming on his dick.

“Yes, yes, cream this dick. Show me you need that shit,” he moaned. He pulled back until he was almost out and then he shoved back in. He increased his strokes the more he did it, your pussy growling on his dick, while he rolled his hips.

Your nails scratched at his chest as he moved his hands to either side of your stomach. The couch dipped with his weight as he pounded your pussy, punished her for whatever perceived slight against him.

“Terry!” You screamed.

“Scream it, baby,” he moaned. He pounded faster, nothing but wet, nasty smacks echoing in the room. Your pussy welcomed him in easily. He glided and fucked you to within an inch of your life.

“Why you fucking me like this?” You panted. Your thighs were weak against his hips. He pounded so fast that the hair on his thighs created a slight burn on yours. The burn only seeped into your skin, driving your pleasure through the roof. The next one was gonna kill you.

“Because you cum so pretty. Give me another,” he demanded. How many was his limit? How many would he pull from you? You were scared to find out.

Tears ran in tiny rivers down your cheeks. The pleasure was too much. Too big. Too wild. Too uncontrollable and fuck, you greedily wanted more. Your head flopped from side to side. You didn’t have another one in you. You couldn’t give him what wasn’t there.

His head dipped to nip at your chin, your neck, and your breast. He suckled your nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth. Like a wilted flower with fresh water, you came back to life.

Electricity buzzed beneath your skin. Terry slipped out and then slapped his dick against your clit. Your pussy juices squelched and droplets bounced off. “Keep taking this dick like a good girl,” Terry moaned.

“Fuck, yes, Terry. Terry, Terry,” you moaned.

“Cream that shit, fuck,” Terry moaned.

He fucked another orgasm from you. Your nails dug in hard enough to draw blood as you screamed with pleasure, your voice drowning out the roaring wind outside. Terry stroked three more times before finally releasing his nut.

He bathed your insides with hot, throbbing splashes of his cum. He jerked above you, head lolling from side to side as he rode out his climax.

You both breathed heavily, bodies slick with sweat from the sex and from the still lit fire. You kissed each other with little pecks, needing air too much to lock lips. “Let me taste,” you said.

“Fuck,” Terry groaned. He slipped out of you carefully. You hissed as his glorious pipe slid out of you completely. His cum gushed out, pushed out by your pussy. You couldn’t stop clenching as you got onto your stomach.

You opened your mouth and looked at Terry. He stood up with one foot on the ground and one knee planted on the couch cushion. You gripped onto his waist and pulled him closer. Without hands, he made his dick jerk to attention, still fully hard. You took him in your mouth and hummed at the mix of your flavors.

You relaxed your jaw and took him in as far as he wanted to go. You controlled your breathing as he gripped your head. He pushed you onto his dick, making you suckle the full length of him. Not all of it fit, so his dick started to poke against your cheek.

“Lick it all up for me,” he said. His voice. His voice. He could command you to walk through burning flames and you would if it meant that he slutted you out like this every day from now on.

You suckled him deep, your eyes never leaving his. You communicated without words that the final chink was in place. You were his. Locked in. Mind to mind. Body to body. Soul to soul. You were his to toy with, play with, his to do whatever he fucking wanted. Because you knew down to your bones that no one else would do it for you. No one else would be able to redefine the meaning of sex for you.

His stare pulled you deeper and deeper into the pool of his eyes. Your eyes drooped as you let yourself get used. He thrust into your mouth, pulling your throat down on his dick. You gagged a bit and he moaned and jerked his hips. He lessened his strokes but kept up the pace.

Saliva and his pre-cum mixed in your mouth and dribbled down your chin. Your gawking was loud and disgusting as you sucked him down.

“You’re fucking perfect. Fucking perfect. Fuck, I’m finna bust,” he groaned, his chest rumbling with a growl.

His entire shaft throbbed as he held your head in place while he spilled down your throat. You swallowed his delicious cum, moaning at his taste. His eyes rolled back and you whined at the image.

You suckled on his tip like candy and he stuttered with a chuckle. “Okay, okay, okay,” he tapped out, gently pushing at your shoulders.

You giggled and then sat back and wiped your mouth. “Fuck. What the fuck was that?” You asked.

Terry grinned. He leaned over, kissed you, and then sat next to you. He pulled you into his side, running his hand up and down your back. Your body felt more than relaxed. Floating on cloud nine in a way that you didn’t know was possible.

“Ever since we met, I’ve been imagining what I’d do to you,” he said.

“I love the way your mind works,” you huffed.

Terry chuckled and kissed your temple. “I’m just happy to be of service,” he said.

You tapped his chest. “I can’t stand you,” you said.

Terry rained kisses down the side of your face until he could nibble on your ear. “That wasn’t what you said earlier.”

“I cannot be held accountable for the shit I say while you’re balls deep,” you said, holding up your hand.

Terry gripped your hand with a chuckle and brought it to his chest. He stared into your eyes and then kissed your hand. Then he moved your hand lower and lower, a grin spreading across his face. Your hand wrapped around his thickening dick.

“Already?!” You asked.

He shrugged. “Everything about you turns me the fuck on,” he said.

Terry made quick work of putting out the fire. Then, he brought you into the shower to ‘clean off’. All he managed to do was haul you against the shower wall and dig into your guts once more, filling you to the brim with his searing hot cum.

You dried each other off on the way to the bedroom before falling asleep as soon as your face hit the pillow. You smiled as you drifted off, the later half of your book filling in from your imagination. With Terry as inspiration, you had enough material to fill three books.

The next morning, you were on fire. Well, not literally, but Terry’s body heat ensured you never needed a heater or a throw blanket again.

Feeling you move, Terry woke up and kissed your neck. He was curled behind you, his large arm dropped across your stomach. He was too cute when he first woke up. Eyes blinking open. Licking his lips. Face fussy and scrunched up.

“Hm, good morning to you too,” you said, wiggling your ass against his morning wood.

Terry chuckled and moved his hand to your waist to still your movements. “Don’t play with me,” he said.

You continued to wiggle your ass. “Well, it is Christmas morning. Don’t I get a present?” You asked.

Terry hummed in your ear. “What kind of present?” He asked.

“You,” you said.

“It’s my pleasure to serve,” he whispered in your ear before lowering himself in the bed, beneath the covers. Your legs fell open as he adjusted himself in between and went to work, licking and suckling and nibbling around your clit and entrance until you were a ball of putty in his hands.

Incoherent nonsense spilled from your lips as he made you glimpse heaven two times before coming up for air. He kissed you, face shiny once more with your essence. You licked it off of him, licked the corners of his mouth, and suckled his bottom lip.

Terry groaned, sliding into you with ease. “Nasty ass,” he moaned.

But fuck, he was still so big. So nasty. He pounded into you, giving you long deep strokes. He lowered himself closer to your body so that your nipples rubbed against his chest.

“You fucking me too good!” You screamed.

Terry moaned and closed his eyes. He placed kisses all over your chest, neck, and lips, keeping pace. He carved a Terry shaped hole in your pussy and in your heart, one that he would only be able to fill.

“Cum on this dick. Let me feel it,” he begged.

Your moans increased. Like his words were just what you needed. You clenched around his dick and he groaned, hips jerking forward, before you finally gave in and gave him what he wanted.

“Shit, fuck,” he moaned as he came with you, dick twitching and pulsing. You would never get sick of that feeling. Never, ever, ever.

“Merry Christmas, chipmunk,” he said, panting for air.

“Merry Christmas, Terry.”

Terry spent the remainder of your stay fucking you into oblivion. Every morning, you woke up with new ideas, new tweaks to make the story better and improve on it. The sex scenes, in your very humble opinion, were the spiciest things you’d ever written. Filthy.

When you shared some snippets with your writing community, they about fell out with gleeful gifs and unhinged keyboard smashing.

Every night, Terry fulfilled his promise of giving you plenty to work with for your books. He twisted you in more ways than one. Folded you like a pretzel. Moved you in positions you’d never heard of. And each session left you so spent, your brain unplugged for the night.

On your last day there, you spent it wrapped up in the bed with Terry only coming up for air long enough to snack. And then he’d call you chipmunk or give you The Look. The one where he dipped his chin and his eyes lured you in.

Then you were kissing, touching, and exploring. Then your hand was wrapped around his dick and his fingers were buried in your pussy to the knuckle. You made it a game on who would cum first. You should’ve known you’d lose that battle. Especially when he commanded that you cum on his fingers with that deep voice and Carolina accent.

He would shove his wet fingers into your mouth so you could taste yourself while he fucked you from behind. Or from the front. Or from the side.

The side was becoming a favorite because you could look at him while still giving him access to your ass. He would smack it and squeeze it. Then you would hold your ass cheeks apart so he could watch his dick disappear inside you.

Then he’d make a show of licking his thumb and swirling it around your clit to set you off like a bottle rocket. Then you’d scream and scream his name and beg and beg for him to fill you to the brim one last time.

Just one last time. You just needed to feel it soaking your walls one last time. Really, the last time. Because you did have to get on the road soon.

You promised to find a way to spend time together. You weren’t that far from the rental and since he had his own cabin, it wouldn’t be so bad to arrange dates and fuck sessions.

You didn’t know what kind of Christmas miracle this was or who upstairs was looking out for you, but Terry Richmond was the best present ever.

Merry Christmas, my loves! Love ya'll so bad!

The Secret Terry Richmond Files

Taglist:

@planetblaque @chaos-4baby @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide

@browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00

@judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi @xo-goldengirl @superhoeva

@avoidthings @lovedlover @blackgurlnhermoods @flydotty @sageispunk

@semi-yah @halfreal-and-halffiction @motheroffae @melaninpov @pinkpantheris

@slutsareteacherstoo @blackerthings @dreamsinfocus @brattyfics @mermaidchansons

@monaeesstuff @henneseyhoe @blowmymbackout @charismablu @playgurlxoxo

@misskiki90 @miyuhpapayuh @satoruya @starcrossedxwriter @yamst3rdamctrl

@steampunkprincess147 @sweettea-and-honeybutter @theblacklewinsky @soft-persephone @notapradagurl7

@thegreatlibraryofalex @amyhennessyhouse @hihellogoodbyebruh @becauseimswagman1

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snghnlvr · 6 months ago

Text

don’t test me. / park sunghoon

౨ৎ ## i've never felt this before, i can't hide it, my head is spinning, crazy park sunghoon x fem reader!

synopsis: your test on your best friend decided to have your friendship to the next level.

extra: actually am back from the dead i’m very sorry LOL | the whole romance: untold album gave me me inspiration to write this.. | hot girl activities of being an enhypen stan <3 | ALSO am redoing my tag list since i’m back after a hot minute, lmk if u wanna be apart of it <3 | love u chiptole pls sponsor me <3

likes, comments, and reposts are appreciated! <3

[below the cut]

what are we doing here at the mall?” sunghoon stares ahead, seeing multiple clothing stores. he sees groups of girls going in and out of them while holding multiple shoppings bags. he sighs, already depicting himself holding bags for you as you go shopping.

“prom shopping, duh.” you proudly stated. your eyes brighten while eyeing each attractive store.

“what’s the point of going to prom when you don’t have a date?” immediately your mood shut down as sunghoon slammed fact at your face while maintaining his blank stare. he was right, you don’t have a date, like an actual date. your last minute plan was to go with your childhood neighborhood best friend, platonically because disappointingly all of the hot guys in your school got dates.

“you’re literally my date sunghoon.” you rolled your eyes and looked at sunghoon who seemed to have reddish cheeks. he looked away before you can turn to him, blocking his red cheeks from being seen.

you snickered, knowing that he is embarrassed since sunghoon doesn’t have a date either from his school. well, he rejected all of them. but that confused you more, he rejected all of the girls that asked him out but he didn’t mind going to your prom as your date. you don’t care now because you have a purpose to go prom-dressing.

“ooh windsor seems cute~” you skipped towards the store that caught your eye first. “woah..” your eyes sparkled at the glitterly lavender dress that has a slit on the right side of the leg and have gems around the chest area. this was your dream ever since you were little, going prom dressing and imagining yourself wearing your favorite dresses with your prince charming.

but it had to be with sunghoon — nothing wrong with sunghoon but he was someone you didn’t expect for him to say yes.

i mean, both of you pinky promised ever since babies that you two would marry each other if both of you stayed single. you wondered if he remembers the same thing.

sunghoon stayed at the corner of the store, eyeing your excited self while scanning the various dresses in front of you as he held your bag after volunteering. he wonders what type of dresses you prefer.

he imagines you in some of the dresses he eyes wander on.

you insisted to keep your bag onto you but he persisted until you give up. his excuse was to “roam freely” — you dead looked at him in the eye replying that it’s bullshit.

you didn’t want to argue with him any further first thing you entered the mall so you let him deal with whatever.

sunghoon doesn’t know what made him possessed to say yes to you when he received your text. he didn't even pay for prom, he was uninterested, but the thought of going with you - as his date, didn't seem too bad.

he remembered himself blushing crazy when he abruptly received your text message when he was hanging out with his friends. sunghoon took a pause in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at his screen with wide eyes. he slowly turned around and started running towards home, abandoning his startled, questioned friends. they heard silence except his shoes hitting the concrete floor.

two hours later, he replied with “sure” to remain nonclatant but little did you know his face was a blushing mess, feet in cold sweat to the fact he had to wear socks in bed, and his heart rapidly beating to the point he had high blood pressure. his mind was occupied onto you as he stared at your bedroom from across his window, wondering what you’re up to.

his parents were so confused as to why their son was acting this way. he was on cloud 9 when you asked him out but felt a bit sad when you mentioned to go together with plantonic feelings.

you walked towards sunghoon with shrugged shoulders and a frown that made sunghoon be concered of your expression. “what happened?” sunghoon looked down at you, uttering a deep tone to indicate his concern. he was still seeing your pouty lips and your eyes being tight. “none of them are what i am looking for.”

maybe you’re acting like a spoiled child who cannot find their favorite toy but you believed that prom was the most important event in your life. you wanted to find your perfect dress.

then you opened your eyes, being face to face to sunghoon’s chest which made you feel uneasy at the unfamiliar appearance.

you then realized how close you are with sunghoon so you took a step back.

you sighed, looking up at sunghoon. “it’s fine we have multiple stores.” your motivated smile made sunghoon chuckle.

you left the store, then sunghoon behind you.

“that green looks like a swamp.” “that’s too glittery.” “too long.” “i look like a child of divorce with this dress!”

“i guess you’re picky.” sunghoon teased, ruffling your hair as he followed you exiting the last store. you still had an unsatisfied expression.

you didn’t react to his gesture since it was normal between the two of you. you didn’t mind sunghoon messing up your hair.

sunghoon felt bad and fixed your hair carefully, eyeing each strand of hair being back in the right place originally.

you looked from left to right onto where to explore, slightly giving up but not fully. you wanted to go home already and swallow yourself in your favorite blanket, blasting the AC on high volume while watching ever after high.

countless attempts of finding the right dress for you was too difficult. you’re starting to understand why people buy their dresses months before, you believe that the good batch of dresses were already brought before and you started to panic if you can even find one.

“there’s nothing wrong with being picky..” you murmured, walking around in hopes another store caught your eye. “of course,” sunghoon responded. he continued. “you should keep your standards high, never settle for less.” you lightly scoffed, turning your head towards sunghoon with a mischevious expression. “is that why you’re still single?”

you’ve always been curious of sunghoon’s standards are since he remains single throughout your high school years. middle school doesn’t count. his last relationship was a fail because he lost feelings for the girl.

yes, you admit he is shamelessly handsome and he knows that but have a personality of a delicate cat. which makes you laugh once in a while.

you still think of sunghoon as a child in an adult body.

sunghoon seems to be taken aback of your question. he tilted his head, thinking about it. “well…i never thought about it like that. i was gonna be more busier with each year, i’m not gonna have time for relationships.” sunghoon confessed nonchantly since it wasn’t a big deal for him. you nodded, understanding where he was coming from.

“then..have you liked anyone before?” you questioned, also curious as you eyed the store’s figuerines on display. “that’s cute..” you whispered to yourself before looking back at sunghoon with a smile, waiting expectantly.

sunghoon’s heart jumped. he shivered when he felt the cold air passing behind him, glancing at you to see if you’ve noticed but he was so grateful that you were distracted by some damn figuerines.

he immediately looked ahead when you looked back at him, geez why can’t i answer?

“n-no.” he choked on his words. you decided to poke his holes further when you noticed how nervous he was. you can read your best friend pretty easily. “really?” you stopped walking which made him also stop. sunghoon turned to his right and he held his breath when you leaned closer to his face, eyeing him like a hawk to justify his truth. “do you like someone now?”

“yes.” he muttered, still staring at your eyes. seconds of staring at each other made your heart suddenly fluttered which was weird and out of the norm. you held in your breath when none of you pulled away yet, continuing to gaze upon each other.

you realized the position you were in, especially when sunghoon easily towered over you. you immediately back away, sunghoon now smirking at your sudden nervousness. “wonder who’s the unfortunate girl..” you gulped on your words.

“why are you single?” sunghoon asked, hands in his pockets as he started walking. you coughed, hands rubbing your tight chest. “e-erm,” you tried to find an excuse. “just like you.. i have other priorities.” you didn’t see the little frown sunghoon made at your response. you weren’t lying but at the same time you were telling the truth. dating felt like it could affect your daily routine and studies.

okay, maybe your best friend seem a bit too handsome for your liking. it’s weird. wait

“how about this store?” sunghoon pointed at a store that was near the exit. you sneaked a glance, interested by the pretty dresses on display. you decided to go. “sure let’s go.” trying to distract yourself on what happened earlier.

now sunghoon was reflecting on himself and what happened earlier as well as he sat down, waiting for you to try on the dresses. he was frustrated, he wanted you. it has always been you, ever since both of you pinky promised as babies.

that relationship he had in middle school - yeah he thought the girl was pretty but it was only to perform a distraction to get rid of his feeling for you.

your extroverted personality intimidated him ever since growing up. he wonders what makes you fearless and mentally strong. in moments where you fell down countless from playing tag with him, you didn’t cry. oddly - you continued to play with tag despite having a bleeding knee.

but when you would see his displeased face, you would offer him a lollipop that you keep inside your book bag just for fun.

he still has the candy wrapper somewhere inside his drawers.

but you don’t know that. he wanted to know if you were feeling the same way. is it worth ruining the friendship? is there any hope to turn it into something intimate? something more? he’s craving a lot of answers.

as you were adjusting the dress, your hands slowed down on your straps when you also questioned the same thing. then memories of you and sunghoon started replaying on your mind; where both of you were in his bed one summer night after having a bbq dinner from your parents, talking about your futures together — where the both of you have to be involved in each others’ futures; where sunghoon gives you his hoodie without any question whenever you’re cold, where you packed an extra lunchbox for sunghoon because he was craving your pork cutlets. the past, happy memories slowly transitioned to the memories where you’re now questioning your feelings on sunghoon.

where sunghoon wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him when the train was crowded with people. you felt his chin touch the top of your head. you remembered your heartbeat being in the same speed as the train was going and you were glad sunghoon couldn’t see your blush — where sunghoon offered you to sleep on his shoulder on the way home after hanging out together — where both of your hands would featherly touch each other in random times but immediately both of you let go and feel electric shocks all over the body.

so you’re gonna put your feelings on the test.

“hoon!” you called out on his nickname. sunghoon immediately paid attention to you. “yeah y/n? what happened?” you scrunched your nose when you hear the concern on his tone.

you huffed out a breath. “can you help me with the zipper please?” you questioned why your heart is already beating fast. you hear the footsteps coming closer to you and you swore your heart was gonna jump out of the ribcage.

behind you, you slightly opened the curtain, to prevent not only revealing the dress to him but as well as not wanting to face sunghoon. you can feel his eyes glued onto your back.

sunghoon rolled his tongue inside his cheek, feeling unusual even though he’s childhood friends with you. he noticed your hands trying to zip up your dress.

he took a step closer to you, you shivered when you can feel his chest against your back and your breath lingering on your bare neck. you gulped at the intense silence engulfed by the both of you.

“silly you.” he let out a slight chuckle. you can feel his slight smirk from behind you.

“just help me park.” you rolled your eyes at his teasing, hoping it’s something to ease the tension.

“stop moving.” sunghoon hand was lightly placed on your waist which made you frozen. your eyes widened at the sudden touch. his eyes were focused on the zipper, his hands being gently so that he doesn’t hurt you.

breathe y/n — breathe—

shit.

you looked up from the ground to curiously see the scene with the mirror in front of you. the first thing was his figure, how his white shirt easily makes his body look good with his headphones around his neck. you can see his fluffy hair that you’re eager to touch. you see sunghoon’s tongue on the corner of his lips to indicate his concentration. your eyes slowly followed his hand, you eyed his watch — his hand on your waist.

you suddenly wanna pass away.

sunghoon sighed, “there.” you then immediately looked down to prevent any eye contact. goddamit y/n why are you so shy?

“thanks.” you grabbed the curtain and shut the room in front of him, whining mentally at your shy self. you stared at yourself in front of the mirror, surprised at how red your cheeks are under the light.

sunghoon stood in front the curtain, surprised with his eyebrows furrowed but then his face relaxed into a soft smile before returning back to seat and waiting for you to reveal the dress to him.

him only.

“so—“ he heard you through his headphones after some few minutes. you opened the curtain. “how do i do?” as sunghoon was pausing his music and taking his headphones off. you presented yourself wearing the dark red, sparkly dress, standing still and with a smile as you waited for sunghoon’s reponse. you smiled so hard, not containing your excitement that you felt while wearing the dress. it really made you feel like a princess.

sunghoon stared at you for a couple of seconds then slowly looked down at your figure. how the dress was hugging your body, your curves were being emphasized, how it complimented your skin tone, god you were stunning. you literally looked like a goddess in front of him and he was willing to drop everything and pull you close just like earlier. sunghoon was utterly at a loss of words. his mouth wanted to spill out words but he was frozen.

what did you did do to him?

you caught him being speechless so you worried, forming a form. “i-is it not good?” you turned around to face the mirror in worry.

but before you do it you heard him yell. “wait!” you paused. “it’s good. you look great.” your muscles relaxed after hearing sunghoon’s reassurance. you smiled, turning back around to face sunghoon. sunghoon was too shy to face you, looking away as he was gulping.

“really great..” he coughed into his fist, clearing his throat.

well that was good enough for you.

“great!” you closed back the curtain to change back into your normal clothes.

sunghoon cursed at himself mentally, hand coming to his head to massage his temples as he closed his eyes to gather his thoughts. he felt like this was torture.

as you’ve already bought the dress, both of you were hungry so you guys went to the food court.

“go find a table, i’ll get us something.” you frown at sunghoon’s suggestion. “no don’t pay for me. you’ve already gone through so much, it’s right if i pay for your meal.” you find your wallet through your bag that sunghoon is still holding for you. sunghoon shook his head, shutting down the zipper making you speechless. “no need it’s fine for me.” you insisted. “sunghoon-“ you whined.

sunghoon gave you a look that made you instantly sit down. “fine.” you rolled your eyes. sunghoon smiled as you followed his words, dropping the bags on the chair next to you. what a switch up.

you eyed sunghoon’s back disappearing slowly from your vision. you smiled when he headed to your favorite fast food place.

you were on your phone while waiting for sunghoon to come back.

“y/n?” you looked up after hearing your name being called. both of you smiled — it was your classmate, taesan. you got out from your seat to hug him as taesan hugged you back tightly. “what are you doing here?” you asked him, going back to your seat.

“i went to the park with the guys.” indicating the basketball on the chair across from you and he turned his back, which made you see the bunch of his friends ordering from a different store. “i saw you sitting by yourself, are you also with your friends?” taesan smiled at you, also wondering why you’re here.

“mhmm,” you nodded. “prom shopping.” taesan cursed. “shit i realized i have to do the same..” you giggled at his comment as taesan panicked a bit since it’s in a week. “good luck with that.” you saluted to him. “mhm thanks.” taesan smiled at your gesture.

“okay i gotta go and find a table for these hungry monsters. i’ll see you again.” taesan ruffled your hair, before leaving your table. “hey you’re gonna mess up my hair!” you playfully said, fixing your strands. “ugh my hair..” you commented to yourself.

a few seconds later, you’re startled when a plastic bag of food was placed in front of, rather harshly.

you turned your head towards sunghoon when he pulled a chair next you and sat next to you with a serious expression. “who was that guy?” you’re confused at sunghoon’s question.

“what guy?” your nervousness made you forget your memory. “why are you smiling to him like that?”

did he watch the whole scene?

sunghoon kept staring at you, still maintaining a cold look that made you shiver. yeah, that’s the look that he is pissed at you.

you realized something. “park, are you jealous?” you eyed him which made sunghoon realize what he was doing and broke eye contact, letting out a puff of air.

but you are not letting it go until you got your answer. you leaned closer to him, tilting your head so he can look at you again but he’s resisting because he didn’t want to show that side to you. “mhmm are you jealous?” you asked annoingly, making sunghoon blush. you kept teasing him. he was covering his face with his hands but you wanted to see this scene unfold on you. “am not.” he muttered, making you laugh at how grumpy his voice was. “cmon, why are you jealous? hm?” you’re entertained.

he is envious that there are other guys who can make you smile and laugh.

you smiled as your hands were touching each of his wrists, pulling his hands away from his face. sunghoon was pretty strong which made you struggle.

“don’t test me.” sunghoon shot a glare after you removed his hands from his face. you gulped at the sight in front of you. “okay i won’t, i’m sorry.”you’re still smiling.

he crossed his arms, pouting. this wasn’t the sunghoon that you grew up with and you wondered how much he has grown up — and that you two aren’t kids anymore.

“don’t worry about taesan, he has a girl.” you laid back to your seat, unpacking your chiptole bowl that sunghoon bought. sunghoon stayed silent, eyeing you unpacking the bowl with excitement that made sunghoon instantly forgive you but now he’s too embarrassed to speak to you.

“uhm..” both of your heads turned to see a guy on your right side. the guy saw sunghoon’s grumpy face which made him gulp and nervous on what he was gonna say as you looked at him with a smile as an act of kindness. “i-i thought you’re pretty and i would like to ask if i can have your number?” the guy looked at you with sweaty glands all over his forehead, not daring to look at sunghoon or he will run away. you widened your eyes at the sudden confession.

“oh uhm-“

your bones became frozen when you felt one of sunghoon’s arms sneak around your neck, his fingers lightly touching your waist while his other arm was leaning on the table, eyeing the guy with apissed expression. he became close, too close when you felt his cheek be pressed onto yours.

he eyed the guy annoyingly, jaw clenched and eyes piercing through his body as you were a blushing mess and your heart fluttering too much. “she has a boyfriend.” sunghoon muttered, causing you to gasp lightly at his words. the way he said, felt like he really meant it.

you saw the guy panicked and apologized, running away from both of your visions.

“cmon park, you scared the dude.” you turned to him as he removed his arm from your shoulder, leaning back to his seat. you were feeling bad for the guy but sunghoon didn’t feel bad.

“you didn’t decline.” sunghoon shrugged, making you wanna slap his shoulder at his egotistical self.

now that you’ve realized, you didn’t.

“i-i..” you’re at a loss of words. you swear you’re gonna die in front of sunghoon if you get a heart attack. “right..” you muttered something that was not supposed to be aloud. but you didn’t notice, trying to calm yourself down.

sunghoon leaned closer to you, eyes staring at you as you saw him smiling, causing his fangs to be present. “i wouldn’t mind.”

you realized where this was going and he indirectly confessed to you. sunghoon tilted his head to the side, entertained to see your blushing state. “i wouldn’t mind either.” his face dropped when you repeated the same thing to him without looking at him, coughing your nervousness out.

both of your faces relaxed, smiling at each other, relieved that the both of you felt the same way towards each other.

“so we’re gonna marry each other now?” sunghoon spoke, maintaining a slight smirk. he loves seeing you flustered like crazy.

you’re surprised. “you’ve remembered?” sunghoon nodded proudly, playing the ends of your hair which made your heart beat even more crazy as if it’s not at its limit right now.

“of course i remember, it’s you.”

#enhypen drabbles #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enha imagines #enha x reader #sunghoon drabbles #sunghoon fluff #park sunghoon #sunghoon oneshot #park sunghoon oneshot #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon fluff #sunghoon ff #sunghoon fanfic #sunghoon drabble #sunghoon #sunghoon x y/n

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red-riot-unbreakable-heart · 10 months ago

Text

Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋

Note: The fic gets a bit saucy, so A18+ ONLY just to be safe!

Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Making Out

CW: MDNI!, kissing, making out, boobs, fondling, romance, sexual tension, semi-spicy scenes, lemon

Link to My Master List

Its mid-afternoon in the UA library. The early Spring sunlight is streaming through the tall windows and across the sci-fi novel you're flipping through. You sigh; content to finally have a Saturday off after a grueling few weeks of classes, training and internship activities.

You think back to a particularly tough training session that had taken place the day before - you had finally kicked Shoto Todoroki's ass in front of the whole class. You smile as you remember the shocked look on his face as you reached down to help him back to his feet.

"You had it coming, hot stuff." You winked as he grabbed your hand and let you pull him back to standing position. His face had flushed red in humiliation at the loss.

You're suddenly jerked out of your reverie when a figure looms over you, casting a long shadow on the desk before you. You turn, startled. As if pulled from your daydream, Shoto Todoroki has materialized before you – tall and handsome. You look up at him in surprise, mouth half open.

"I think we should kiss." Shoto's deep voice says above you, his tone neutral.

"Huh?" Your mouth drops fully open. Shoto is looking down at you with eyes alight with determination. That cute blush is back - splashed across his pale cheeks and across his aristocratic nose.

"I was thinking back to our fight yesterday, and the reason why I lost. It was because I was thinking about kissing you the whole time. I let myself get distracted. I think that if we kissed, I could get over it and refocus on training." So matter-of-fact! That was one thing you liked about Shoto - he was straightforward.

"Um...okay." With an effort, you close your gaping mouth. You’re absolutely dumbfounded. Shoto has never shown any romantic interest in you before. You’ve never caught wandering eyes on you in class, he’s never stashed a love note in your locker. None of the typical school love tropes have been leveraged here. If anything, the two of you are loose acquaintances on the cusp of being friends. Maybe a few more months of class and group activities together would have helped you bridge the gap and fully form a decent friendship.

You wonder if he’s been into you all this time, or if this is just a whim he’s exploring. Either way - who are you to let an opportunity to kiss a hot guy go by the wayside? You snap your book shut and stand. "You want to do this right now?"

Shoto nods, and turns to walk away with the expectation that you’ll follow. You get up and sweep your things into your bag, heart beating double time. You quickly jog to catch up with Shoto – he’s already out the door. The two of you walk across the UA grounds in silence, your footsteps falling into a soft rhythm. Your mind is going at a million miles per minute – could this all be an elaborate prank? Shoto has never struck you as the type to play a cruel joke on a classmate. Quite the opposite – when he’s not training he seems so soft and sweet. He strikes you as more of an introvert than anything else. He keeps people at a safe distance. You’ve always been under the impression that when it comes to Shoto, trust is earned, not freely given.

You wonder if this kissing business means that you’ve earned a bit of that trust? Who’s to say.

“So…” you say, attempting to break the tension. “Where are we going?”

Shoto looks back at you, confused. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re going to my dorm room.”

“Oh.” You pause. “Wouldn’t that be a bit inappropriate? Like, what if someone catches us kissing in your dorm room? Won’t we get in trouble?”

“I’ll lock the door.” He says sensibly. “It’s no one’s business but ours.”

“Huh.”

“Oh – I think I understand what you’re getting at.” He runs a hand through his hair reflexively. “It’s no wonder you’re one of the top members of the class. A good hero always has a strategy. So we should come up with an alibi.” He brings his thumb to his chin as he stares into space, pondering.

“If someone catches us, I can say that I experimentally froze my lips with my power and that I asked you to help me warm them up. Naturally, the best way to do so was with your lips.” He turns to you expectantly to gauge your reaction.

What the actual hell, Shoto.

“You’re um…you’re fucking with me, right?” You look at him uncertainly. Shoto’s unusually harsh upbringing has caused him to be shockingly literal at times. Your eyes scan his face until the corner of his mouth quirks upwards into a small smile.

“Yes, I am.”

You burst out laughing at the unexpected joke, and his tiny smile grows into a full grin. He likes making you laugh.

“Listen…” He says reassuringly, “No one is going to bother us – it’s such a nice day. I overheard some of the girls saying they were going to take pictures near the campus cherry blossom trees. They roped Midoriya, Ida and a few other classmates into the activity as well. Bakugo, Kirishima and Sero are all training across campus in the gym. We should have at least an hour or two before anyone comes seriously looking for us.”

Wow. That must be the longest group of sentences he’s ever said to you directly.

“You’ve really thought this through.” You say, following him across the threshold of Class 1A’s dorm complex.

He smirks. “I’m strategic.”

You look at him appraisingly. He looks clean and trim in his tailored UA uniform. Aside from the scar surrounding his eye, he has the most perfect skin of anyone in your class. While the rest of your classmates have been stressing about moisturizer and SPF and acne treatments, you’ve watched Shoto sail through his hormonal teens without a skincare care in the world. The skin of his cheeks is the color of porcelain and looks so, so soft and deliciously kissable. His face holds a mixture of determination and apprehension.

You enter the kitchen and common room area of your dorm and see that it’s completely, blessedly empty - odd for a Saturday. Shoto is right - it is one of the first nice spring days on campus. You assume everyone is out enjoying the nice weather as he said. This is a good thing – it means your clandestine meeting with Shoto can stay secret. Everyone in Class 1A can be so nosy sometimes. You’re determined to keep this juicy little secret between the two of you.

He leads you up towards one of the hallways that encompasses the boy’s dorms, pausing in front of his door to fiddle with his key. His usually steady hands are shaking a bit as he turns the lock and pushes open the door to reveal his immaculately clean bedroom with it’s traditional Japanese décor.

You step inside and slide off your shoes, letting your bag drop to the floor.

“I forgot how traditional your space is, Shoto.”

He closes the door behind you and clicks the lock into place before discarding his keys on his desktop. He looks around the dorm room thoughtfully.

“It’s how I grew up. I never really had the chance to develop my own taste or style.”

“Maybe now that you have your own space, you finally can!” You say enthusiastically. “If you’d ever like to go shopping or want help putting together a Pinterest board, Mina and I can definitely help you find some inspiration.”

His flat line of a mouth quirks up into another small smile. “I haven’t really had the time to think about anything other than school work and the L.o.V. since we moved into the dorms. Maybe you’re right – this could be an opportunity to broaden my horizons. See what I like.”

“Yeah! There are so many fun ways you can bring more of yourself into this space. We can start with a throw pillow.” You say knowledgably, pulling up the Pinterest app on your phone. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Blue.”

You type the color into the search bar, and immediately the screen is flooded with hundreds of different shades of blue throw pillows – all kinds of patterns and sayings and beading and embroidery. You hand him your phone and encourage him to scroll through the options.

“I’m sure we can find something that makes you feel like you.”

His eyes soften a bit as he takes the phone from you, intrigued. He scrolls through the colorful images, overwhelmed by the options. After a few minutes of careful deliberation, he finally stops and double taps a picture, hyperlinking to a website.

“This. This feels like it could be me.” He sends himself the link so he can purchase the pillow later. He hands back your phone and you take a curious look – the image he’s drawn to is a long rectangle of fabric shaped like a whale. It has navy blue stripes along with a small curved tale and button eyes sewn on. You look up and see that the tips of Shoto’s ears are bright red.

“This isn’t what I was expecting – but I see now that it suits you perfectly.” You say, picturing the whale pillow in his room – a dash of whimsy against the otherwise stuffy outdated décor. He practically glows at the compliment. You realize that this is likely one of the first times someone is validating a choice he has made for himself. You cough and toss your phone into your discarded bag – the moment feels oddly intimate.

Shoto’s eyes scan across your face and he speaks his next words slowly, almost deliberately. “This is what I’ve always liked about you, y/n. You always seem to know what to say to get someone to smile or to open up. Admirable traits in a future hero.” You feel your own face heating up at the sweet compliment. Shoto has never given you so much direct attention outside of class, and it’s exciting and almost unnerving to have those two intense eyes focused in entirely on you.

“Thank you Shoto, that’s a very kind thing to say.” You suddenly realize how very close Shoto’s face is to your own. He’s only a few breaths away. Shoto is a few inches taller than you, so you need to crane your neck in order to get the full picture of his beautiful face. You wonder nervously if he expects you to initiate – should you reach out and grab his face? Your heart starts beating much too fast and you see his intense eyes dart down to your lips, wanting. You take a step closer to him, leaning up to meet his face, and…

“Let’s get started.” He says abruptly, breaking the moment. He walks over to his closet and pulls out his bedroll, hastily moving to set up his sleeping space so that you’ll have a comfortable place to sit. Once he sets up the space, he takes a seat on the soft mattress and motions for you to join him. This wasn’t really what you were expecting, but you remember that Shoto is pretty sheltered. He clearly has a plan in mind here, so you decide to let him take the lead.

“Alright, before we start – I just want you to know that we can stop at any point you’d like. I want you to be comfortable here, so please let me know if at any time you feel like you don’t want to continue. Ok?”

You nod, appreciating the dialogue and Shoto’s forethought surrounding consent.

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Leaning his head back, he exhales slowly through his nostrils. After a moment of deep breathing, his eyes flutter open. “It’s an exercise my father taught me for clearing my nerves before a battle.” He explains as he runs a nervous hand through his two-toned hair.

“Are you anticipating a battle here?” You tease, reaching over to place your hand on his thigh. Shoto eyes the hand curiously before matching your gaze.

“Of course not. But surprisingly – I have the same feeling of anxiety now that I usually have right before a sparring match.” His expression is stone cold serious, not even the hint of a joke this time.

“I understand that. It’s nerve wracking to kiss a person for the first time.” You quickly double back on your words. “N-not that I’m implying that this is your first kiss or anything, I-”

Shoto blinks. “Oh – this is my first kiss. I thought it was fairly obvious.”

“Oh! Oh, Todoroki – I didn’t realize!” You trip over your words a bit and it brings out a soft smile in Shoto.

“I think that’s why I’ve been so distracted lately. Once I know how it feels, maybe then I can move on and focus back on my training and studies. Is this not your first kiss?” He tilts his head to the side, questioning. You see no hint of jealousy in his eyes – he’s legitimately curious.

“N-no. I’ve kissed a few people before. Never anything serious! Just here and there at summer camp.” You smile weakly, face burning. Shoto nods appreciatively at your candid answer.

“That makes sense – you’re very competent at everything you do. And very attractive.” This last part brings a blush across Shoto’s pale cheeks. “I had assumed there were plenty of people who have wanted to be kissed by you.” The compliment is unexpected and it makes a laugh bubble up your throat. You start giggling and Shoto seems taken by surprise.

“Did I say something funny?”

“No – no! You’re just so sincere and sweet and I am so nervous right now. Shoto you’re competent and attractive, too. I hope that you know that!” This brings his smile back out again, like the sunshine after a long rainstorm.

“Why don’t we just get it over with, then? I’ve read a few articles and studied some movies and…well, I think I’m as prepared as I can be.” Shoto’s face is so open and earnest your heart squeezes in your chest. He studied for this??

Slowly, carefully, Shoto reaches out a delicate hand to cradle the side of your face. He scoots somewhat awkwardly closer to you, but the rest of his movements hold his typical grace. He leans forward, eyes half closed, and brings his lips to your own.

You dip your head to receive the kiss, and you feel his soft lips melt against yours. You close your eyes and revel in the feeling of his mouth. Everything about him is soft and electric at the same time – the points where your bodies are connected feel charged with some kind of buzzing energy that leaves your breathless. And just as soon as it’s begun – it’s over. A brief peck, a stolen moment in time. Shoto pulls away from you, eyes wide, as he catches his breath.

“So?” You ask, trying for nonchalance but failing when you realize your voice is just a hoarse whisper. “What did you think?”

“It’s…” Shoto looks at you thoughtfully, touching his fingers to his tingling lips. “It wasn’t what I was expecting. I just feel like I want to do it more – like I need to keep going.”

You laugh – “Did you really think you’d want to stop after your first kiss?” Shoto shrugs, unwilling to answer the question.

“Can we kiss again? Please. If you’d like to, that is?” He asks, and you note the want in his voice. You’ve never heard Shoto Todoroki sound desperate for anything in his life before this moment. You’re surprised at how he sounds fairly desperate for you.

You smile at him and lean in close, bringing your foreheads together. You can feel different temperatures playing across his skin as he works to keep his quirk in check as excitement roars across his body.

“Follow my lead, lover-boy.” You whisper, before crashing your lips together. You move at a faster pace this time, showing him how to slide his mouth against yours to have a proper make out. He picks it up quickly and absolutely relishes in it. His eyes are closed and his hands find either side of your face again. You let him hold you like that for a few minutes before you decide to take the reigns a bit more. You reach out to place a hand on his chest and softly push him away from you.

“Here – this will make things a lot easier.” You stand up and move to straddle him, slowly sliding into his lap and wrapping your legs around his back. You place his hands on your waist and wind your arms around his neck. “Comfortable?” He nods, his eyes blown wide and almost glassy with lust.

“This is okay?” He asks, looking down at the way his hands grip your hips.

“Absolutely. You’re going to want them there for leverage.”

“Leverage?” He asks weakly, his eyes trained on your lips.

“You’ll see.” You smile deviously as you take in how absolutely undone Shoto looks. “Okay, next step – have you done any research on French kissing?”

Shoto nods again, looking a bit uncertain. “I watched a romantic comedy online and at the end the main couple kissed that way.”

“Well it’s super easy – I’ll walk you through it.” You tilt your head towards his and melt your lips back together, starting out with a slow and soft kiss. As he begins to get comfortable with the pace of your kissing, you move to deepen it – running the tip of your tongue across his lips. He naturally opens his mouth to you, and you move so that your tongues meet. You guide him into a light dance, your kisses becoming more frantic as your mouths and tongues collide. This brings out a ferocity in Shoto that you hadn’t expected, and you feel his hands grip your hips with almost bruising force. You groan, turned on by the contact. You automatically rock your hips into his and he stills at the motion. You blush as you realize that you can feel Shoto’s dick becoming hard beneath you. Shit.

His hands fly off of your hips and he sits back, mortified.

“I’m so sorry-” you start to say as he runs his hand anxiously through his hair again. Shoto takes a deep breath and looks at you, eyes still fuzzy.

“Don’t be sorry! That was amazing, I just…didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He looks down between you pointedly. He doesn’t want you to get freaked out by the fact that he’s got a boner.

“Oh I’m not uncomfortable at all! Actually, quite the opposite.” This answer makes Shoto’s sculpted eyebrows fly up into his hair.

“Really?” He whispers.

“Yeah. It’s actually really hot.” You reach down and take his hands in yours, moving them back to your hips. You make piercing eye contact with Shoto as you roll your hips experimentally again – feeling his hardness even through your clothes. He groans at the contact this time, a soft sound that is just: So. Goddamn. Hot.

You grind against him again, picking up a steady rhythm as Shoto enthusiastically moves your hips. Struck by sudden inspiration, you lean forward to kiss a sloppy line up his neck. This draws a moan from Shoto that you weren’t expecting – low and sweet. You smile as you continue to kiss his neck, using your tongue when you find a particularly sensitive spot beneath his ear.

Shoto grabs your face with one hand and tilts your head up before crashing his lips back into yours. His kisses are heated and passionate as he bounces you on his lap, making you both see stars. You’re so wet you can feel yourself soaking through your panties. You pray that your school uniform pants won’t get damp beneath you – how embarrassing would that be?! At the same time - you don’t give a damn; Shoto’s mouth and his hands and his dick feel far too good. At the moment kissing Shoto Todoroki feels like the only thing you were put on this goddamn earth to do.

Tentatively, you feel Shoto’s hands wander up from your hips. You moan into his mouth as his hands find your breasts. “How is this?” He whispers hoarsely, running delicate fingertips across the peaks of your breasts. “Is this okay? I can stop if you want me to.” You moan your consent enthusiastically, and when he begins to softly knead your boobs over your shirt, your hormones fully take the wheel.

You hop off your classmate so you can quickly unbutton your shirt – your tie flying off as you work. Shoto remains sitting on the floor and does the same with his own uniform. In a moment he is sitting shirtless and beautiful before you, chest heaving as he works to catch his breath. He stares at you with bright eyes as you stand above him in nothing but a bra and UA’s uniform slacks. He has never seen a woman with so little clothing on before, and he is in awe.

You kneel down beside him on the bedroll and reach out to touch his perfect body. Your hand hovers above his perfectly sculpted abs and you look up at him, eyes asking permission. He nods, giving you his blessing to touch. You smooth your fingertips lightly across the defined planes of his chest and abs, marveling in all that he is. Your palm comes to rest against his chest and you feel his heartbeat – a quick staccato beneath your delicate hand. You push him lightly so that he moves to lie on the ground before you.

“You alright with all this?” You whisper, moving slowly to straddle him on the ground.

“If I get to have you on top of me again – absolutely.” And he grins – a genuine smile that radiates comfort. You’ve never seen a look like that before on Shoto’s face and it stops you in your tracks. You just want to bask in the glow of the rare gift of his beaming face.

After a moment, you collect yourself and move so that you’re on all fours and hovering over him. You shiver – you’ve never been so close to someone in this way before. He seems to notice your hesitation.

“You look cold – do you want to grab a blanket?” He reaches up and runs his hands up and down your arms, giving you more goose bumps. You nod, and he reaches to grab a thick grey knit blanket that’s folded neatly to your left. He pulls you down to lay on top of him and easily casts the blanked across your intertwined bodies. The knit feels luxurious and expensive – and it smells deliciously like Shoto. A scent that’s a mixture of sandalwood and fresh sheets wafts around you. It’s comfortable and warm and you feel so, so happy to be sharing this moment with Shoto.

He wraps his arms around you and feels himself get hard again at the delicate feeling of your bare skin against his own. He pulls you in for a kiss – and this time the passion is slow, sensual. You’ve never kissed someone like this before – like you have all the time in the world. He moves his hands up and down your bare back beneath the blanket – warming you up. He’s keeping his ice quirk at bay – both of his hands are the perfect temperature as they run across your soft, supple skin. His hands come to rest on your lower back as he moves to experimentally kiss down your collarbone.

“Oh! Oh, Shoto, yes.” Is all you can say. The use of his given name seems to turn him on even more, because his kisses become sloppier and he runs the edge of his teeth against your skin. He continues to kiss down your shoulder, pausing for only a moment in order to roll you both over so that he can have a turn on top. You gasp at the sudden movement – the dynamics have unexpectedly shifted and Shoto is in total control.

He gazes down at you, shifting the blanket so that it doesn’t get tangled between your bodies.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says, a note of wonder in his voice. “Your skin is so soft…I never realized how great it would be to touch you.” He runs a light fingertip across the delicate skin of your neck and across the expanse of your collarbone. He watches as he runs his finger down the slope of one of your breasts, stopping when he meets the soft cotton of your bra.

“Can we take this off?” He whispers, moving to palm your breast over the delicate white material. You nod, and prop yourself up so you can reach behind yourself to unclip the clothing. With a light “pop!” the bra clip comes undone and Shoto helps you discard the item. He takes in your breasts with a look of absolute amazement and cautiously reaches out to touch them. He gently runs the palm of his hand across your right breast experimentally. You gasp at the contact, and he nervously glances at your face to make sure you’re not in any discomfort. You smile at him, encouraging him to keep going. He kneads the breast in his strong hand a few times before experimentally rolling his thumb over your nipple. You gasp at the contact as pleasure surges through you – you had no idea you were so sensitive. Shoto repeats the motion, earning a soft moan. He smiles at the praise – unexpectedly mischievous as he moves so that he’s kneeling over you, able to tackle a breast with each hand. He goes to work pinching and massaging and rolling your breasts between deft fingers, drawing the sweetest sounds from your mouth.

“Shoto!” You cry out as he moves to spread more kisses across your neck as his left hand plays with one of your breasts. You reach down and squeeze the muscular plane of his ass, begging him to grind into you. He gets the message loud and clear – moving against you gently so that you can feel his hardness graze against you.

He’s causing so many delicious sensations across your body with his lips, hands, hips, groin – it’s almost too much. You feel like you might drown in him when suddenly –

A knock on the door causes you both to still.

“Todoroki?” Mr. Aizawa’s voice is muffled behind the door. You’re both rigid with fear. Shoto’s lips are at your neck and his breath tickles your bare skin. Your fist is tightly squeezed around his left ass cheek. You stare at the ceiling as you start to panic, wondering wildly what you’re supposed to do in this situation. Oh shit oh shit oh shit.

Mr. Aizawa knocks on the door again. “Todoroki – your father is here to see you.”

“My father?!” Shoto blurts out before he can stop himself. He scrambles off of you and looks around in a panic. “Why’s my father here?”

The walls seem to be thinner than you thought, because Mr. Aizawa supplies an answer from the other side of the locked door.

“Endeavor had a press conference at a hotel down the road this morning. He wanted to check in and discuss internships. I left him waiting in the common area. I’ll be in my office if you want to grab any internship paperwork while he’s here. I wouldn’t keep him waiting, kid.”

“Of course – thank you Mr. Aizawa!” Todoroki calls through the door awkwardly, listening as your teacher’s footsteps recede into the distance.

You and Shoto stare at each other in absolute horror.

“Do you think he heard us? Do you think h-he knows?” You whisper, panic lacing your voice.

Shoto shakes his head no as he gathers up his shirt and shakily tries to re-button it. “No – I don’t think he was out there long enough to hear anything incriminating.”

You let out a breath of anxious air, reaching for your discarded bra. “Thank goodness.” You re-clip your bra and shrug on your shirt.

“Endeavor is here?” You eye Shoto with concern as he dawns his tie and straightens his hair in a wall mirror on the back of his door.

“My old man likes to pop up at inconvenient times.” Content with his hair, he looks down at you. You’ve started to fold up his blanked and bedroll, patting down your own hair along the way.

“We should probably talk about what just happened…” He starts to say, but you shush him as you hear heavy footsteps coming from down the hall.

“Shoto!” A booming voice rings through the hallway, sending shivers up your spine. The heavy footsteps come to a stop right outside Shoto’s dorm door. The doorknob rattles as someone tries the lock. “How dare you keep me waiting!”

“I’ll be out in a minute, old man!” Shoto calls back bitingly. He glares at the door, thankful for the meager lock. He turns to look at you, and his eyes fill with panic. You scan the room for a place to hide – there is absolutely nowhere to conceal yourself in Shoto’s sparse, plain room.

Suddenly, you’re struck with inspiration – you point to the window. Shoto nods in agreement, dashing to grab your things from where they lay abandoned at the threshold of the door.

Quietly, you pad over to the window and pull back the curtains by a foot. You unlatch the window and slide it softly open before hoisting yourself into the wide window frame. It’s lucky you’re not afraid of heights – because Todoroki’s room is on the fifth floor. There is a small escape ladder for fire emergencies (you smile at the irony of Endeavor being the fire emergency in this case). You move to settle your feet on the top rung of the ladder, with plans to climb your way back to the ground so you can re-enter the dorm building from the back.

Shoto leans out the window and hangs your messenger bag around your shoulder.

“Find me later so we can discuss this.” He says, looking apprehensively over his shoulder as his father continues to bang on the door and callout his name. “I’m sorry this ended with you having to sneak out the window like some sort of criminal.”

“Ah, it’s no big deal! Makes it more exciting.” You grin and he smiles back. He leans forward and presses a small kiss to the corner of your mouth before moving back to close the window.

As he slides the glass closed, he says to you “I don’t think this is going to help me refocus. If anything, I’m more distracted than ever.” You give him a wink as he shuts the window soundly, drawing the curtains to cover your escape.

Hastily, you climb down 5 stories worth of thin metal ladder, landing gracefully in the soft spring grass. You walk to the dorm’s back entrance and let yourself in, walking past the laundry room and up towards the common area. Mina waves at you as she tosses some clothes into the washing machine, and you say a silent prayer thanking the powers that be that none of your friends had come looking for you while you spent your blissful hour hidden away, half-naked and moaning, in Shoto Todoroki’s room.

You climb the stairs two at a time until you hear the voice of the Number 2 Hero grumbling in the common area. Curious, you peak around the corner to see Shoto and his father seated on one of the couches, sorting through paperwork. Shoto has a dead look behind his eyes as his father lectured him about the importance of networking. He nods blankly a few times before his eyes catch sight of your small frame hiding around the corner. His entire face softens at the sight of you. Endeavor notices and turns to see what’s captured his son’s attention.

“You there! Are you a member of Class 1A?” He booms out, almost polite in his delivery. You walk out into the room, drawing yourself up to your full height.

“Dad – this is my classmate Y/N. She lives on the girl’s side of the dorm. Her quirk is extremely powerful.”

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Endeavor.” You say, trying not to blush at Shoto’s compliment. Endeavor waves you off with a fiery hand.

“Ah, that’s right. I recognize you from the Sport’s Festival. Your quirk and fighting style were both quite impressive.” He looks at you appraisingly. “Are you a close friend of Shoto’s?”

“She is.” Shoto answers smoothly. “Actually, she’s been tutoring me a bit lately on some techniques I’m not familiar with. She’s a greatteacher.” The subtext is not lost on you.

“Surely you don’t need help in your studies, Shoto. You’re at the top of your class.” Endeavor says gruffly, looking to his son for further explanation.

“Just showing him a few moves I picked up in one of my martial arts classes, sir! Shoto picks up new techniques like a Pro.”

Endeavor seems mollified by this answer. “Of course he does. He’s on track to become the best of the best.” The hero claps his hand on Shoto’s shoulder proudly, and you smile weakly at the discomfort that flashes across Shoto’s eyes.

“Well – I’ll let you both get back to your work! Shoto – if you want to practice those techniques again later, I’ll be in the library until 8 tonight.”

You see Shoto ever so slightly lick his bottom lip. His face is tinged with the lightest of blushes.

“Got it. I’ll see you there, Y/N.”

You have a feeling that Shoto isn’t going to be able to focus on his studies for quite some time.

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

Here are all the currently released chapters of Shoto's First Kiss!

Shoto's First Kiss Series:

Part 1: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋

Part 2: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 2

Part 3: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 3

Part 4: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 4

Part 5: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 5

Part 6: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 6

🔥 Link to My Master List 🔥

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firstdivisiongirl · 4 months ago

Note

can i request headcanons for Tokyo revenger; draken, Mikey, mistuya and baji in a scenario where they're walking and a random girl (reader) walks up to them and begs them to pretend they know her because she thinks shes being followed?

(Bonus if reader isn't from japan and just moved there so her language skills aren't that great)

Hi there. This was so cute! So, the only one I did not write for is Mikey. I might eventually write one for Mikey and maybe a few other characters. I made the reader for Mitsuya and Draken foreign, but not Baji's. Idk why I did that but it kind of happened? Anyways, sorry for rambling. Thank you for the request and please enjoy!

Trigger Warning: Stalking

Baji, Mitsuya and Draken Helping Out a Female Reader When They Feel Uncomfortable

Baji:

Baji is a true gentleman

I know right! Shocker

You were walking home late one night from the supermarket because you needed something to eat and you had nothing at home

You felt these eyes on you

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a man following you

He walked a little faster and faster, but you still felt like you were being followed

Suddenly, you saw this guy, about your age with beautiful long black hair

You walked up to him and asked him quietly if he would just pretend to be with you

You explained that you felt like you were being followed and were scared

Baji immediately looked around and then grabbed your hand.

The man walked away thinking you two were a couple

He asked where you lived and he took drove you home on his motorcycle that was parked not far from where you two were

When you arrived home, he gave you his number

He said if you ever needed to run an errand late at night or felt uncomfortable ever to just call him and he would be there for you

Mama Baji would be proud of her son

And you were happy to have a new friend

Mitsuya:

Another gentleman in Toman

You were new to Tokyo

Really Japan in general

Ever since you moved to Tokyo, you worked late at night at a convenience store so that you could earn extra money to help out the family and take care of your younger siblings

One night on the way home, you just had this bad feeling

You felt like you were being watched

Which was only made worse when you saw a mysterious figure behind you

But suddenly, you saw this boy

He had silver hair and an earring in his left ear

You walked up to him and tried to tell him what was going on

Sadly, your Japanese wasn’t great

He tried to follow, but he was having trouble

Suddenly, a few words clicked and he figured out you were being followed and you wanted him to pretend to know you

He grabbed your hand and smiled at you, kissing your cheek

You were bright red at this point

So was he

Eventually, he noticed the figure walk away

After that, he told you who he in the best English he could speak

Thankfully, he was a good student in English class, so he wasn’t too bad

He apologized for the kiss and walked you the rest of the way home telling you about himself as you did the same

Turns out that was the start of a beautiful friendship

And eventually a really cute romance

Draken:

All these Toman boys are just gentleman

I swear, they are

But anyways

You were on your way home from cram school and you saw a man out of the corner of your eye

You kept walking hoping you were just freaking out for nothing

Well, you weren’t

Eventually, you saw this guy with a dragon tattoo on the side of his head

He looked scary, but you were desperate

You walked up to him and in your best Japanese, you begged him to help you out and pretend to know you.

Well, Draken was a bit confused at first but he saw the look in your eyes and decided to help you out

He walked with you until he saw the man leave

He handed you his number and asked you to meet him after school the next day

After that, he introduced you to all of his friends, including the boys and Emma

That one act of kindness helped you to feel more comfortable not only that one night, but for the rest of your life in Tokyo

They even helped you learn more Japanese and you helped them with English

You were thankful for Draken’s kindness

And Draken was happy to help someone in need

Please do not copy, modify, translate or repost my writing on other platforms. Comments, reblogs and likes are highly appreciated!

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xbinksc · 3 months ago

Text

RUMOURS AND REVELATIONS

PT 2

⭒❃.✮:▹Nicholas Alexander Chavez

SUMMARY: singer Y/N and co-star Nicholas face rumors of romance amid their chemistry and rising fame, navigating media scrutiny while strengthening their bond. Where will all this take them?

WARNINGS: real mushy at the end, looooong

A/N: Requests are open! Still can’t figure out how to make a master list rip someone help me…Enjoy🤍

✧༺༻∞

In a surprising turn of events, Monsters star Nicholas Alexander Chavez and singer Y/N were seen enjoying a cozy night out at a popular cafe in Los Angeles last night. The duo, who play alongside each other in the upcoming series Grotesquerie, appeared to be having a great time, laughing and taking pictures with fans, sparking speculation about their off-screen relationship.

Eyewitnesses described the pair as "playful" and "affectionate," with Nicholas even wrapping an arm around Y/N during photos—a move that sent fans into a frenzy!

This public outing comes just days after news broke of Nicholas’s breakup with his ex-girlfriend, prompting fans to wonder if the split was influenced by his growing bond with Y/N. The timing has many fans theorizing that "The Boy Is Mine," Y/N's latest hit song, is a not-so-subtle nod to the love triangle drama.

Sources close to the pair have revealed that they have been spending significant time together both on and off set, which has only added to the swirling rumors. An insider claims, “They have an undeniable connection. It’s clear they enjoy each other's company.”

The pair’s chemistry has been undeniable throughout filming, leading fans to question whether their relationship is purely professional or if there's a budding romance behind the scenes. Social media is buzzing with reactions, with many supporters urging the couple to "just be together already!"

While neither Nicholas nor Y/N has officially commented on their relationship status, their fans are eagerly awaiting any updates. For now, the rumors continue to heat up, leaving everyone wondering: Is it just a friendship, or is there something more?

Stay tuned as we follow this developing story!

INSTAGRAM

@/ynuser: werk ♡

Comments

@/user gorgeous gorgeous girl

@/user I need the next ep of grotesquerie NEOW😵‍💫

@/zaralarsson trying not to say mother

- @/ynuser donatella VERSACE💜

@/user girl please tell me the rumours are true I won’t snitchhhh

@/nicholasalexanderchavez 🤓

-liked by @/ynuser

@/user my new flex is I met Nicholas and y/n last night😛

@/kyliejenner obsessed with u😍

@/user okayyyyy Nicholas I see you👀

- @/user we need a ship name ASAP

- @/user bro they’re so cute I cannot

- @/user not y’all supporting a homewrecker

COMMENTS TURNED OFF

IRL

The night was heavy with a storm, clouds gathering like dark thoughts in the sky. Nicholas sat in his living room, the flickering light of his candles casting dancing shadows on the walls. He stared blankly at the flick of his phone screen, each notification a new reminder of the whirlwind that had enveloped his life. Articles dissected every moment with you, twisting your innocent laughter into scandalous headlines.

A sudden, frantic knock shattered the stillness. His heart skipped as he opened the door, revealing you, your face streaked with tears, vulnerability spilling over in the soft glow of the hallway light.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, pulling you inside and closing the door behind you. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this anymore, Nicholas,” you gasped, your voice trembling as you sank onto the sofa, burying your face in your hands. “The rumors… they’re unbearable. And I keep thinking about your ex—she must hate me. I don’t want to be the reason for any hurt.”

Nicholas moved to sit beside you, concern etched across his face. “You’re not a homewrecker, Y/N. This isn’t your fault.”

“But I met her. I saw how hurt she was,” you whispered, your eyes brimming with regret. “What if she thinks I came in and ruined everything?”

Nicholas felt a pang of sorrow for both women, caught in a whirlwind of feelings beyond their control. “You didn’t ruin anything. Our relationship had its own complexities. It’s not fair to blame you.”

You looked up, your eyes searching his. “Then why do I feel like I’m drowning? Every article, every rumor, it all makes me feel like I’m stuck in this web. And I can’t stand the thought of you being hurt because of it.”

The tension in the room hung thick, an unspoken truth waiting to be unraveled. Nicholas took a deep breath, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts. “Maybe we should talk about where we stand. We can’t keep avoiding it. This anxiety… it’s tearing us apart.”

Your gaze softened, and you nodded slowly. “You’re right. We’ve let this consume us. But where do we even begin?”

“Let’s start with the truth,” he suggested, his heart pounding. “What do we really feel about each other?”

The question lingered in the air, almost fragile in its intensity. You hesitated, your heart racing. “I care about you, Nicholas. More than I thought I could. But I’m scared. Scared of what this means, and how the world will react.”

Nicholas leaned closer, the space between the both of you crackling with a mixture of tension and longing. “I feel the same. You’ve become so important to me. I don’t want to lose you, but the noise outside… it makes everything complicated.”

“Do you think it’s worth it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Can we really separate our professional lives from this… whatever this is between us?”

He considered your words, weighing them carefully. “We can try. But we need to be honest with ourselves. We can’t let the pressure of the world dictate our feelings.”

Your expression shifted, a flicker of hope igniting in your eyes. “So, we give it a real shot? Just… discreetly?”

“Yes,” he replied, a smile breaking through the weight of the moment. “We can keep our lives separate while exploring this connection. I want to see where this can lead us without the distractions.”

The relief washed over you like a balm, and you took his hand, the warmth of his touch igniting something deep within you. “You make me feel seen.”

“You make me feel understood,” he admitted, his heart swelling. “In a world that often feels chaotic, you’re my calm.”

Just as you both began to find your rhythm, the storm of stress outside began to seep in. “But what if people don’t understand? What if they twist our relationship again?” Your voice trembled, a hint of frustration creeping in.

Nicholas felt his own anxiety bubble up. “Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if we just ignored them. We can’t let every rumor dictate our reality!”

“That’s easy for you to say!” You shot back, your voice rising. “You’re not the one facing the scrutiny every single day!”

“Neither are you! We’re in this together!” he countered, the tension escalating as your emotions collided.

You both paused, the heat of the argument hanging in the air like a taut string ready to snap. You took a shaky breath, your eyes wide. “Wait… are we really mad at each other?”

Nicholas blinked, realization dawning. “No, we’re not. We’re just… stressed. This whole situation is making us take it out on each other.”

You nodded, the tension slowly dissipating. “You’re right. I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just all so overwhelming.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I get it. We’re in the same boat, fighting the same storm. Let’s breathe for a second.”

“Let’s breathe,” you echoed, the weight of the moment shifting from confrontation to understanding. You took a few deep breaths together, grounding yourselves in the presence of each other.

“Maybe we should focus on what we can control,” Nicholas suggested softly. “Like how we communicate. We don’t have to let this stress tear us apart.”

“Agreed,” You replied, a small smile breaking through the remnants of tension. “We’ll work through it together.”

You shared a moment of silence, your hands intertwined, the soft rhythm of your breaths echoing in the space between you. Each pulse of your hearts seemed to sync, bridging the gap of uncertainty that had kept you apart.

“Can we just enjoy being together without all the noise?” You asked, your eyes sparkling with a blend of mischief and sincerity.

“Absolutely,” he replied, a grin tugging at his lips. “Let’s find joy in the little things—coffee dates, late-night talks, quiet moments where it’s just us.”

As you spoke, the heaviness of the outside world began to dissolve, replaced by a gentle warmth. Laughter bubbled between you, lightening the mood as you reminisced about your time spent on set, the shared glances and stolen smiles that had made everything feel electric.

Nicholas found himself enchanted by your laughter, a sound that felt like music, lifting them both above the fray. “You know,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes, “you owe me a karaoke night. I expect a duet.”

“Deal,” you replied, laughing through your tears. “But only if you promise to keep your mic in check. No sudden high notes!”

Your playful banter melted into deeper conversations, the night unfurling like a flower, revealing petals of honesty and vulnerability. You spoke of dreams, aspirations, and fears, each revelation drawing you closer together.

But as the clock ticked on, reality loomed like a specter at the edges of your newfound intimacy. “This isn’t going to be easy,” You said, your expression sobering. “The world won’t stop watching.”

“I know,” Nicholas replied, his voice steady. “But we have to stay true to ourselves and each other. As long as we communicate, we’ll find our way through.”

You smiled, a warmth spreading through your heart. “Then let’s take it one step at a time.”

The moment stretched between you, a fragile yet beautiful thread connecting your hearts. “What if it doesn’t work out?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Then we’ll still have this moment,” he replied, his gaze unwavering. “This is ours, regardless of what happens later.”

As the night deepened, you shared a quiet moment, eyes locked, the understanding between you solidifying into something undeniable. In the midst of chaos, you had carved out a sanctuary, a bond that felt like the softest whisper against a storm.

When you finally stood to leave, a mix of reluctance and exhilaration coursed through you. “This was… everything I needed. Thank you for being here.”

Nicholas walked you to the door, feeling the glow of possibility surrounding him. “I’ll always be here for you. Remember that.”

With a shared look of promise, you stepped into the night, the world outside still tumultuous but your hearts intertwined in a newfound hope. As Nicholas closed the door behind you, he felt the glow of possibility surrounding him.

#nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez x reader

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mononijikayu · 5 months ago

Text

ikaw lang— fushiguro megumi.

"Thanks. he muttered, his voice softer this time, almost shy. He still wasn’t used to letting people in, but for some reason, with you, it didn’t feel so bad. You smiled again, that same warm smile that made something inside him flutter. "Anytime." you replied, and Megumi knew you meant it. “Let me take care of you again, okay? When this happens.” “......You didn’t need to—” You shake your head, smile even wider. “But I want to, okay?”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: Fluff, Romance, First Love, First Meeting, Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Friendship, Confessions, Humor, Mutual Affection, Love, Pining, Hugging, Mention of Injury, Mention of Fighting, Mention of Blood, Depiction of Medical Aid, Fushiguro Megumi is In Love, Sorcerer! Megumi, Non-Sorcerer!Reader, Megumi and Reader Are A Bit Older;

WORDS: 6.5k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this song is really cute. i should rest after this because ive been writing all the other poll related works and my eyes hurts. i might open commissions some time so i can get new glasses 🤔 but anyway, i hope you like this as much as i do. i love you so much 🫶

main masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:

HE WONDERS WHAT HE DID TO BE THIS HAPPY. Fushiguro Megumi often finds himself lost in thought, trying to piece together how he ended up with someone like you as his lover. It’s a mystery to him, one that he turns over and over in his mind, especially in the quiet moments when he watches you from across the room.

The two of you couldn’t be more different. Megumi has always been reserved, the kind of person who prefers the solace of a quiet corner, away from the spotlight. He’s never been one to seek attention, content to blend into the background, observing rather than participating.

And then there’s you, today. The person he loves the most.

You, who are the complete opposite of everything he thought he needed. You walk into a room and light it up effortlessly, drawing people to you like a lighthouse in a rough storm. Your presence is magnetic, radiant—wherever you go, you leave a trail of warmth and joy, like the sun casting light on everything in its path. If the sun existed in Megumi’s universe, it would undoubtedly be you, the brightest star in his sky, illuminating even the darkest parts of his world.

Sometimes, Fushiguro Megumi wonders how someone like you could ever be drawn to someone like him. He’s not flashy, not outgoing or overly expressive. But then, you’ve never needed him to be. From the moment you met, you saw something in him that no one else did. You didn’t mind his quiet nature; in fact, you seemed to appreciate it, to cherish the way he found comfort in the shadows while you thrived in the light.

Every time Megumi sees you, his heart races uncontrollably. It’s a feeling he can’t quite describe, this mixture of awe and disbelief that he’s lucky enough to have you by his side. You have a way of making him feel things he never thought possible—emotions that run deep and wild, far beyond the calm exterior he usually shows the world.

And whenever you flash him that smile, the one he loves so much, he feels his composure slip. His face turns scarlet, his heart stumbles over itself, and he panics slightly, wondering how he’ll ever survive the intensity of his feelings for you.

But what truly leaves Megumi breathless are your eyes.

He’s always been captivated by them, even before he realized he loved you. There’s something in the way your eyes shine that draws him in, that makes him feel like he’s seeing something otherworldly. When you look at him, it’s like the rest of the world fades away, leaving only the two of you in a moment of pure, unfiltered connection.

Your eyes are windows to your soul, reflecting every emotion, every thought, every ounce of love you hold for him. And Megumi, who is often so unsure of himself, finds a sense of peace and belonging in those eyes. They are his sanctuary, his guiding light, the proof that he’s not alone in this world.

Sometimes, when you catch him staring, you’ll tilt your head and ask him what he’s thinking. And every time, Megumi struggles to find the right words, because how can he possibly explain the way you make him feel? How can he put into words the overwhelming mixture of gratitude, love, and fear that courses through him whenever he’s with you? All he knows is that, in those moments, he’s reminded of just how extraordinary you are, and how incredibly lucky he is to have you.

You are the sun in his universe, the brightest star in his sky, and with every passing day, Megumi falls deeper in love with you. And even though he’s not always able to express it, he hopes that when you look into his eyes, you can see just how much you mean to him—how much he adores every part of you, and how grateful he is to share his life with someone as wonderful as you.

Each time you raise your head and let Megumi gaze into your eyes, he’s struck by how they seem to shimmer with an otherworldly light. It’s not just the way they sparkle, but the depth and complexity they hold within them, as if your eyes contain entire galaxies, full of stars, planets, and endless mysteries.

To Megumi, your eyes are like a universe unto themselves—vast, beautiful, and impossible to fully comprehend. He can never quite find the words to describe the wonder they bring him, because, in truth, they’re unlike anything he’s ever known. They’re out of this world, something magical and extraordinary that he’s lucky enough to witness every day.

And every day, Megumi is reminded of just how fortunate he is to have you by his side. There are moments when he’s caught off guard by the simple yet profound realization that someone as remarkable as you chose him.

He’ll be lost in thought, or caught up in the routine of daily life, and then you’ll look at him, your eyes meeting his, and all those thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. In those moments, nothing else matters—just the connection between you, the unspoken bond that ties your hearts together.

Megumi finds that the most beautiful part of his day is when you look back at him. Your eyes, shining with a brilliance that words can’t quite capture, speak volumes in a language only the two of you understand. They tell him of the abundant love you hold for him, a love that fills his heart with warmth and light.

He’s always been shy, a little reserved, and sometimes he struggles to put his feelings into words. But when you look at him with those sparkling eyes, he wishes he could find the courage to tell you just how much it feels like heaven on Earth when you let him see the hearts hidden behind the bright beam of your gaze.

Megumi knows that you’re patient with him, that you understand his quiet nature, but sometimes he worries that he doesn’t show you enough how deeply he loves you. He wishes he could be more expressive, that he could find the words to tell you everything he feels.

But when words fail him, he hopes that you can see it in the way he looks at you—in the way his breath catches, in the way his heart races, in the way he’s completely and utterly captivated by you.

To Megumi, your eyes are not just beautiful—they are a reflection of the love you have for him, a love that he treasures more than anything in the world. Every glance you share, every moment your eyes meet his, is a reminder of how lucky he is to have found someone like you. And even though he may never fully grasp the magic you bring into his life, he knows that he will spend every day trying to show you just how much you mean to him.

To Megumi, it feels like stars might actually be falling from the sky, captured in the light of your gaze. Every moment he gets to see those eyes, he feels like he's witnessing something otherworldly, something that makes all the differences between you melt away, leaving only the overwhelming love he has for you.

Even though Megumi isn’t always good with words, he sometimes wishes that you could simply look into his eyes and just know that he loves you more than anything in the world. He hopes that you no longer feel the need to ask over and over, like you used to, because the truth is, you’re the only one he has ever truly loved—and the only one he ever will.

But sometimes, a nagging doubt creeps into his mind. He worries that his quietness might not be enough to convince you of how much you mean to him. He fears that he’s not doing enough to show you just how deeply he cares, because he struggles to express his feelings out loud. Yet, despite those fears, Megumi is determined to try harder, to find ways to show you his love so that you never have to doubt it.

If there were a way, Megumi wishes you could look into his heart and believe without a shadow of a doubt that you are the only one his heart has ever loved. And as he gazes at you now, he silently hopes that you can feel the depth of his affection in the way he looks at you, even if the words aren’t always there.

Fushiguro Megumi vividly remembers the first time he saw you for the first time. That was that day, during middle school. It was an ordinary day, and he wasn’t expecting anything to change. And for that change to be for the best.

He was known for being a bit of a loner, someone who kept to himself and occasionally got into trouble for his rebellious streak. He wasn’t exactly a model student, and most people gave him a wide berth, not wanting to get involved with someone who had a reputation for being a delinquent.

But then there was you, when you were younger.

He had just been reprimanded by one of the homeroom teachers for getting into another fight—something that had become more common as he struggled to navigate the challenges of his teenage years.

Or rather, just the annoyance he had for people he considered to be cruel, horrible people. But he supposed he was also angry, frustrated with the world, and on the verge of lashing out again when you approached him.

You were new, just transferred to the school, and Megumi was sure that you, like everyone else, would steer clear of him. But instead, you walked right up to him, your eyes full of concern rather than fear or judgment. You were like the sun blocking his eyes when he met you. You changed his whole world that day, he likes to think.

"Hey! Are you okay?" you had said softly, your voice calm and soothing. "Oh no, you got some dirt on your shirt—is that a cut on your side?"

Fushiguro Megumi had been taken aback for a long time. The last time must have been when Gojo said he’s taking him and Megumi in. There were very few things that had Megumi fazed, stuck in his tracks, and at a loss for words.

Perhaps the act of kindness being shown to him was one of those points. But he doesn’t think you’ve blamed him. He wasn’t used to anyone talking to him like that—without the underlying wariness or caution. He didn’t know how to respond, so he just shrugged, trying to brush you off.

“I’m fine.” he muttered, his tone gruff, hoping you would just drop it and leave him alone. "Don't worry about me. Move on."

But you didn’t leave. Instead, you stood your ground, your eyes filled with a concern that he hadn’t seen in a long time. It was as if you could see right through his tough exterior, straight to the part of him that was hurting, and you weren’t about to let it go unnoticed. You shook your head, your hands reaching out to gently tug at his sleeves, drawing his attention back to you.

When he finally looked at you, he was surprised to find that you seemed more distressed about his well-being than he was. There was a softness in your gaze, mixed with a quiet determination that caught him off guard.

"It doesn’t look like it! See? It hasn’t stopped bleeding. you replied gently, your voice free of any reproach, but filled with genuine worry.

Megumi followed your gaze to the cut on his arm, a wound he hadn’t given much thought to in the heat of the moment. But seeing the concern etched on your face made him pause.

You hesitated for a moment, as if unsure of how to proceed, before speaking again. "But if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay. I just… I just wanted to make sure you’re alright."

“Don’t worry about me—”

Your voice wavered slightly, betraying the depth of your concern, and it made something inside Megumi’s chest tighten. "At least maybe let me help you clean that nasty cut."

Megumi blinked, taken aback by your persistence. He was used to people either ignoring him or chastising him for getting into trouble, but you were different. You weren’t trying to fix him or tell him what to do—you were simply offering to help, to be there for him in a way that no one else had been. It was a kindness he wasn’t used to, and he didn’t quite know how to respond.

For a moment, he considered brushing you off, telling you he didn’t need any help, that he could handle it on his own. But something in your eyes stopped him. There was a sincerity there, a genuine desire to take care of him, and it made him realize how rare it was for someone to care like that.

"Fine." he finally grumbled, though his voice had lost its earlier edge. He couldn’t quite bring himself to meet your gaze, instead focusing on the ground as he added, "But it’s really not that bad."

You didn’t seem convinced, but you didn’t push him further. Instead, you smiled—a small, relieved smile that made his chest feel warm in a way he wasn’t used to. "Let’s just get it cleaned up, okay?" you said softly, leading him to a nearby bench.

As you carefully tended to his wound, Megumi found himself stealing glances at you, wondering why you cared so much. You were new to the school, new to his world, and yet here you were, going out of your way to make sure he was alright. It was strange, but also… comforting.

"Why do you care?" he asked quietly, surprising even himself with the question. It wasn’t something he’d meant to say out loud, but now that the words were out there, he couldn’t take them back.

You paused, looking up at him with those kind, worried eyes. "Because you deserve it." you replied simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Everyone deserves to be cared for, you know?"

Your words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, Megumi didn’t know what to say. He’d never thought of himself as someone who deserved kindness, especially not from someone like you. But hearing you say it so matter-of-factly made him wonder if maybe, just maybe, you were right.

You took Megumi to the nurse’s office, your concern evident in every step you took. He had tried to brush off the cut on his arm as no big deal, but you weren’t having any of it. As you entered the office, you headed straight for the supply cabinet, rummaging through it to find the emergency kit.

Megumi watched you with a mixture of apprehension and admiration. His face was tense, a mixture of discomfort and embarrassment clearly visible. He had never been one to draw attention to himself, especially not for something he considered minor. Yet here you were, focused and determined to make sure he was taken care of.

You pulled out the first aid kit and set it on the counter, your hands moving quickly and efficiently. “Alright, let’s get this cleaned up,” you said, your voice steady and reassuring.

Megumi shifted uncomfortably, clearly aware of the fuss you were making. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble. It’s just a scratch,” he muttered, trying to downplay the situation.

You gave him a stern look as you began to clean the cut. “It’s not just a scratch if it’s bleeding. Besides, it’s my job to make sure you’re okay. You’ve been taking care of everyone else, so let me take care of you for once.”

He sighed, though he couldn’t help but feel a little comforted by your persistence. As you carefully applied the antiseptic and bandaged his arm, Megumi stole glances at you, noticing the focused expression on your face. Despite his initial resistance, he was grateful for your concern.

“You really don’t have to do this,” he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time.

You glanced up at him with a small, reassuring smile. “I know, but I want to. You’ve always been there for me, and it’s only fair that I return the favor. Besides, you look like you’re in no condition to argue right now.”

Megumi managed a small, appreciative smile despite his discomfort. “Thanks. I guess I’m just not used to this… kind of attention.”

You finished wrapping the bandage and patted his shoulder gently. “Well, get used to it. Because I’m not going to let you get away with not taking care of yourself. And don’t think I won’t be checking on you if you ever get hurt again.”

He looked at you, the tension in his face easing as he met your gaze. “I’ll try not to get hurt then. Or at least try to let you know before it gets this bad.”

You laughed softly, your eyes crinkling with warmth. “Good. And remember, if you ever need anything—whether it’s help with a cut or just someone to talk to—I’m always here for you.”

Megumi’s heart swelled with a mix of gratitude and affection. Even though he had tried to downplay the situation, your unwavering concern made him feel valued in a way he hadn’t felt before. He knew that no matter what happened, he could always count on you to be by his side.

As you finished bandaging his cut, Megumi felt a strange sense of calm settle over him. For the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel so alone. Maybe it was because of the way you looked at him, or the way you didn’t push him to talk about things he wasn’t ready to share. Or maybe it was just because you were there, offering your help without expecting anything in return.

"Thanks....I guess." he muttered, his voice softer this time, almost shy. He still wasn’t used to letting people in, but for some reason, with you, it didn’t feel so bad.

You smiled again, that same warm smile that made something inside him flutter. "Anytime." you replied, and Megumi knew you meant it. “Let me take care of you again, okay? When this happens.”

“......You didn’t need to—”

You shake your head, smile even wider. “But I want to, okay?��

He didn’t know how to reply. He rubs the back of his neck. “You’re a weird one.”

“EH!? But I’m not!”

As the two of you sat there, the world seemed to quiet down around him, leaving only the gentle presence of the person who had somehow managed to slip past his defenses and show him a kindness he hadn’t realized he was missing.

Megumi didn’t know what to say. He was used to people either avoiding him or giving him grief for his behavior, but you were different. You weren’t trying to lecture him or push him away. You were just… there, offering your kindness without expecting anything in return.

From that day on, you always treated him with the same patience and understanding, even when he continued to get into trouble. You never judged him, never scolded him. Instead, you listened, offering support when he needed it and giving him space when he didn’t. You seemed to see past the rough exterior, recognizing that there was more to him than just the delinquent reputation he had built.

At first, Megumi didn’t understand why you were so kind to him. He didn’t think he deserved it, and part of him expected you to give up on him eventually. But you never did. No matter how many times he got into trouble, you were always there, offering him a smile or a word of encouragement.

Slowly, he began to soften around you. He started to look forward to the moments when you would seek him out, your presence becoming a source of comfort in his otherwise turbulent life. You became his anchor, the person who made him believe that maybe he wasn’t as bad as he thought.

It wasn’t long before Megumi realized that his feelings for you had grown into something deeper. At first, he had tried to convince himself that what he felt was simply gratitude, an appreciation for the way you treated him with such genuine care and respect. But as time passed, he found himself thinking about you more and more, his thoughts lingering on the little moments you shared.

Like that time in the library, when you had insisted on helping him with his homework. Megumi had been struggling with a particularly difficult problem, his frustration mounting with each failed attempt to solve it. You had noticed his struggle and quietly slid your chair closer to his, gently guiding him through the problem with a patience that both surprised and comforted him.

“There, see? You’re getting it!” you had said, a bright smile lighting up your face as you watched him work through the problem.

Megumi had looked at you then, really looked at you, and something inside him had shifted. It was the way you had been so kind, so encouraging, without a hint of judgment or condescension. The way you had treated him like he mattered, like you genuinely wanted to see him succeed. It was a feeling that was foreign to him, yet it warmed him from the inside out.

Another moment had come when the two of you were walking home from school. It had started to rain unexpectedly, and Megumi had cursed himself for not bringing an umbrella. But before he could worry too much, you had pulled out your own and held it over both of you, smiling up at him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Come on, let’s share. Can’t have you getting soaked.” you had said, your voice cheerful despite the downpour.

As the two of you walked side by side, your shoulders brushing occasionally, Megumi had felt his heart do a strange little flip. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, noticing the way the raindrops clung to your hair, how your smile remained unwavering despite the weather.

In that moment, something had clicked for him. It wasn’t just your kindness that drew him to you—it was the way you made him feel safe, understood, and… cared for.

The realization had hit him one afternoon when you both were at the park. You had been talking animatedly about something, your hands gesturing as you spoke, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

Fushiguro Megumi had been content to just listen, watching the way your expressions changed with every word. And then, without warning, you had turned to him, catching him completely off guard with a look of such warmth and affection that it nearly knocked the breath out of him.

“What?” you had asked, laughing lightly when you noticed the way he was staring.

Megumi had opened his mouth to respond, but no words had come out. Instead, he had felt a strange mix of emotions bubbling up inside him—nervousness, excitement, something that felt suspiciously like hope. It was then that he realized: this wasn’t just friendship or simple admiration. It was something deeper, something more.

He liked you. A lot.

The thought had sent a rush of warmth through his chest, leaving him both exhilarated and terrified. Megumi wasn’t used to these kinds of feelings, and he wasn’t sure what to do with them. But as he looked at you, standing there with that bright smile on your face, he knew one thing for certain—he wanted to be around you, to make you smile like that as often as he could.

“Nothing.” he had finally managed to say, a small, shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I was just… thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” you had asked, tilting your head curiously.

Megumi had hesitated for a moment, but then he had decided to be honest, even if he couldn’t say everything that was on his mind. “About how… I like spending time with you.”

Your smile had grown even brighter at his words, and you had reached out to lightly punch his arm in that playful way you always did. “Well, I like spending time with you too, Megumi.”

And just like that, Megumi had known that he was done for. He liked you—really liked you. And even though the thought scared him, it also filled him with a strange sense of happiness, one that he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt before. From that moment on, Megumi couldn’t deny it anymore. He liked you, and he wanted to see where these feelings would take him.

Looking back, Megumi often finds himself reflecting on how profoundly different his life might have been if you hadn’t approached him that day. It was a pivotal moment, one that he now sees as the turning point in his journey.

Before you, he had felt like a perpetual outsider—misunderstood, labeled as a troublemaker, and largely ignored by those around him. He had been resigned to his role, to the way people saw him, without much hope for change or growth.

But then you came into his life, a beacon of kindness and patience in a world that had been mostly indifferent. You saw something in him that no one else had—a potential for change, a person worth caring for. Your approach had been gentle but resolute, offering him a friendship and understanding that he hadn’t known he needed.

You didn’t judge him for his mistakes or his quiet demeanor; instead, you reached out to him with a genuine concern for his well-being. It was this unassuming kindness that started to crack open the hardened shell he had built around himself.

Now, years later, Megumi often wonders if he would have ever found the strength to change if it hadn’t been for you. He thinks about the way you had treated him back then, how your unwavering support had slowly begun to reshape his view of himself.

It was as if you had quietly whispered to him that he was worth something, that he had the potential to be better, and that there was more to him than just the surface-level troubles. And in doing so, you had planted a seed of hope and self-worth that gradually grew into something stronger and more resilient.

As the two of you sit together now, the evening sun casting a warm, golden glow through the window, Megumi can’t help but be reminded of how far he’s come. The comfort and familiarity of your presence have become a cherished part of his life.

He often steals glances at you, unable to fully comprehend just how lucky he is to have someone like you by his side. The way you’re sitting there, so effortlessly at ease, makes his heart swell with a deep affection that words can hardly capture.

You’ve caught him staring more than once, and each time, you respond with that soft, knowing smile that makes his heart skip a beat. It’s a smile that reassures him, that reminds him of the love that started on that day in junior high, when you saw him not as a problem or a troublemaker, but as someone worthy of care and respect. That smile, simple yet profound, continues to be a source of comfort and joy for him, a daily reminder of how much you mean to him.

In those moments, as he looks at you and sees the warmth in your eyes and the gentle curve of your lips, Megumi is filled with a deep sense of gratitude. He thinks about how his life might have been different without your influence, and he realizes just how much you’ve changed him. The love he feels for you is rooted in that initial connection, and it has only grown deeper and stronger with time.

Megumi knows now that the love he has for you began with that first act of kindness you showed him, and it has only been enriched by the years you’ve spent together. As he sits there beside you, basking in the glow of the setting sun and the warmth of your presence, he can’t help but feel that he has found something truly extraordinary—something that started with a simple gesture of care and has blossomed into a love that he never thought possible.

You lean in slightly, noticing how quiet he’s been. "Megumi. Oiiiiiii, Megu–Megu~ Gumiiiiii!”

He sighed, looking at you. You have energy again, after resting. “What is it?”

“You truly okay?" you ask, your voice gentle and inviting.

He hesitates, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. "It’s nothing. Don’t worry about me.” he mumbles, looking down at his hands, fidgeting slightly. "Just thinking about the past. Nostalgia."

You tilt your head, your eyes sparkling with curiosity and affection. You smiled. "You’re always so cute, Megumi.” You sighed, as you reached out gently to touch his hand. ”You’ve been staring at me all evening. If you have something to say, you can tell me, okay?”

Megumi swallows, gathering his courage. "It’s just… your eyes…" he finally says, his voice barely above a whisper. "They’re… really beautiful. And just…..you. I think how lucky I am to be with you.”

You blink in surprise, not expecting such a heartfelt compliment from him. "Oh, my beloved Megumi." you murmur, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Thank you."

Megumi slowly looks up at you then, his own eyes filled with a tender sincerity that makes your heart flutter. He took a breath before letting his eyes wander at the sight of you, his beloved marvel. His wonder in life. He gives you a faint smile.

"When you look at me like that… it feels like I’m seeing stars." he continues, his voice growing softer, more vulnerable. "Like… every time I see your eyes, it’s the most beautiful part of my day. And… I don’t know how to say this right, but… it’s like there’s love shining behind them, so much that it feels like heaven."

Your heart swells with emotion, and you squeeze his hand gently. You lifted his hand to your lips and looked at him tenderly as you pressed your lips against the top of his hand. He doesn’t know when his heart will calm down. But when it’s you, he doubts if it will ever happen.

"Megumi, that’s one of the sweetest things you’ve ever said to me." you reply, your voice filled with warmth. "And just so you know, when I look at you, I feel the same way. You make every day feel like the brightest one I’ve ever had. Because when I look at you, I ask, ‘how did I deserve this boy?’ Because, you’re too good to me.”

He smiles shyly, his blush deepening as he takes in your words. "I’m glad….that you feel like I do too." he murmurs, his fingers intertwined with yours.

"I always will." You reassured him, grinning at him lovingly.

"I… I’m not good with words, but I want you to know how much you mean to me. Every time you look at me, it’s like… it’s like I��m the luckiest person in the world."

You lean in closer, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "You don’t have to say much, Megumi. I can see it in your eyes too." you whisper, your breath warm against his skin. “That’s more than enough for me, know that. Okay?”

Megumi’s heart swells, and for a moment, he forgets about his usual shyness. "I love you." he says softly, the words slipping out before he can stop them. “More than you’ll ever know.”

Your smile widens, your eyes shining even brighter. "I love you too, Megumi." you reply, your voice filled with the same sincerity and warmth that he sees in your gaze every day.

And in that moment, with your hands intertwined and your eyes locked, Fushiguro Megumi knows that there’s nothing more beautiful than the love you both share. And he truly believes that. He thinks that you’re the love of his life. And he has no intention of letting you go.

Megumi's heart races as the words hang in the air between you. He's never been the best at expressing his feelings, but something about being with you makes it easier—like the words come naturally when you're around. You pull back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes again, your own filled with the same warmth and love that makes his heart flutter.

"You know, Megumi." you start, your voice soft and affectionate, "I always feel like I’m the luckiest person too. Because even when you're quiet or shy, I can feel everything you don’t say in the way you look at me. It’s like you’re telling me a million things with just a glance."

He bites his lip, trying to find the right words to respond. "It’s hard for me to… say things out loud sometimes. And it’s hard to be honest at times." he admits, his gaze lowering for a moment before meeting yours again. "But when I’m with you, it feels different. Because when I’m with you, I’m just….me.”

You smile at him, a soft, understanding smile that makes him feel even more at ease. "You don’t have to say everything, Megumi." you reassure him. "I can see it in your actions, in the way you care for me, and in those beautiful eyes of yours. You’re always telling me how you feel, even when you think you’re not. I love that about you, don’t worry.”

Megumi blushes, the compliment making him feel a mix of embarrassment and joy. "You… you think my eyes are beautiful?" he asks, his voice small, almost disbelieving.

"Of course I do." you reply, leaning in to rest your forehead against his. "They’re one of my favorite things about you. They’re so expressive, even when you’re being quiet. I can always tell what you’re feeling just by looking into them. Your eyelashes too. They’re always pretty!”

His breath hitches at the closeness, your words making his heart swell with emotion. "I… I’m glad you think that." he murmurs, his eyes locked onto yours. "Because… When I look at you, I see everything I could ever want.”

Your heart skips a beat at his confession, and you close the small distance between you, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. It’s soft, sweet, and full of the love that you both share, a love that needs no words to be understood.

When you pull back, you see that Megumi’s face is a deep shade of red, but there’s a small, content smile on his lips that makes your heart soar. "You really know how to say the perfect thing, don’t you?" you tease lightly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from his face.

He chuckles softly, his shyness momentarily forgotten as he looks at you with nothing but affection. "Only because it’s you." he replies, his voice steady and full of sincerity. "You make it easy."

You both sit there for a moment, just enjoying the comfort of each other’s presence. Megumi’s hand is still entwined with yours, and he gives it a gentle squeeze, as if to remind himself that this is real—that you’re real, and that you’re his.

"I never thought I’d be this happy, you know?" he admits quietly, almost as if he’s afraid that saying it out loud might break the spell. "But with you… it’s like every day is a dream."

You smile, your heart swelling with love for the boy who, despite his quiet demeanor, has given you more happiness than you ever imagined. "Then let’s keep dreaming together, Megumi." you whisper, leaning in for another kiss. "Because I never want this to end."

The warmth of the setting sun bathed the room in a golden hue, casting a gentle glow that seemed to amplify the intimacy of the moment. Megumi and you were nestled comfortably together, sharing a quiet sense of peace that had settled between you. This was paradise, Megumi thinks. This was heaven on earth. You and you alone, in his arms — he could not ask for anything more.

Megumi glanced at you again, his eyes reflecting the soft light. “What good did I do to be with you?”

You tilted your head, smiling at him with a mixture of curiosity and affection. “Why do you say that? What makes you feel that way? You did everything good. You do deserve me."

He hesitated, his gaze falling to the floor as he tried to find the right words. “It’s just… you’ve always been there for me, even when I didn’t really know what I needed. I was so closed off and messed up back then. But you saw something in me, something I didn’t even see in myself.”

You reached out, gently placing your hand on his cheek to lift his gaze to meet yours. “I saw a person who needed kindness and understanding, and I’m really glad I could be there for you. But you did the hard part, Megumi. You changed and grew, and that’s all you.”

He shook his head slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I couldn’t have done it without you. And now, every day with you feels like a gift. I keep thinking about how different things could have been if you hadn’t come into my life. It’s overwhelming sometimes.”

You chuckled softly, your fingers brushing his hair back from his forehead. “Well, I’m glad I did. And I’m glad you’re here with me now. It’s like we were meant to find each other, don’t you think?”

Megumi nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, it does feel like that. I keep thinking about how we met and how everything just seemed to fall into place after that. It’s like you were the missing piece I didn’t know I needed.”

Your eyes sparkled with affection as you leaned closer. “And you were the person who showed me what it means to be patient and understanding. We’ve both learned so much from each other.”

He smiled, a rare, genuine smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. “You’ve made me a better person. I feel like I’ve become more open, more willing to trust and care. It’s all because of you.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you wrapped your arms around him in a gentle hug. “I’m just glad I could be a part of your journey. And I’m excited for everything that’s still to come for us.”

Megumi returned the hug, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. “Me too. I want to make sure I’m always there for you, supporting you just like you’ve supported me. I don’t want you to ever doubt how much you mean to me.”

You pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, a soft smile playing on your lips. “You don’t have to worry about that. I know exactly how much I mean to you. And I’ll always be here for you, just like you’ve always been there for me.”

As the two of you sat together, the warmth of the setting sun casting a gentle glow over the room, Megumi felt an overwhelming sense of contentment. He knew that with you by his side, every day would be brighter, every challenge more bearable.

And as he looked into your eyes, he realized that the love he felt was a constant, reassuring presence—one that made everything feel right in the world.

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youaintnothinbuta · 7 months ago

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“I promise you the bed will be so much comfier” — Austin butler x reader

Summary: you are Florence’s bestie and meet Austin through her while she’s on set during filming for Dune :)

Pairing: Austin Butler x reader

Word count: 1.1K

Warnings: fluff! Slow burn, no real romance, friends before dating typa cuteness! I wrote this while extremely tired so sorry if there are typos </3

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Your best friend, Florence, was in the UAE for filming for Dune. When Florence told you she was going to be spending those 5 shooting weeks either in the desert or alone in the apartment they would provide for her, you offered to find some time to visit her for a bit, but it ended up in you just coming with her for almost the whole time.

You settled into a routine with her nicely, though you didn’t see much of her for more than a few hours at a time. Mostly you filled your time with exploring the nearby areas, reading and occasionally visiting Flo on set. It was during one of these days that you first met Austin.

It was easy to get along with his relaxed demeanour, and his charm made it even easier to strike up a friendship of sorts. It wasn’t long before your friendship with him felt as though there wasn’t a time where you hadn’t known each other.

One early morning, you found yourself tossing and turning in bed. Sleep eluded you, and the more you tried to force it, the more restless you became. Frustrated and tired, you grabbed your phone to check the time. 6:14. Florence had long shoot this day and you didn’t want to wake her up any earlier she had to be up. Pushing past the straining sensation the light of your phone gave your eyes, you decided to text Austin, who didn’t have to be on set until the evening.

“You awake? I can’t sleep.”

No reply as you scrolled aimlessly, waiting. Figuring his silence was a ‘no,’ you put your phone down and tried for the hundredth time to fall asleep. Just as the the room fell back to darkness, a buzz beside your head alerted you back to full consciousness.

“I am. Come over, door will be unlocked for you.”

You didn’t hesitate. All the cast and crew were staying in houses along the same strip and Austin’s was conveniently just across the road. You slipped on your shoes and quietly made your way over, the early morning air cool and refreshing against your skin as you knocked lightly before pushing the door open. You found Austin in the kitchen, already making his breakfast and a coffee.

“Hey,” he greeted you with a warm smile, “you look sleepy.”

“Because I am,” you replied, with slightly more attitude than you intended, “I just couldn’t get comfortable.”

You turned to leave, going to curl up at the end of the couch in the living room.

He soon joined you, placing his food on the coffee table. You lifted your head from the back of the sofa to look up at him.

Austin motioned towards his bedroom. “If you want to try and get some more sleep, I promise you the bed will be so much comfier.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, hesitating for a moment.

“Yeah, of course,” Austin said, leading you towards his room. “Make yourself at home.”

You slipped into his bed, instantly feeling enveloped in comfort. Austin closed the curtains but left the door open, ensuring you could rest without feeling too closed in. His sheets smelt divine, just like the way he smelt every day, but softer. And between you and well, you, there may have been some feelings starting to develop for him.

You actually did manage to get some rest, when the sound of conversation woke you. You heard Florence’s voice ask if he’d seen you.

Austin replied, “Yeah, she’s in bed,” nodding towards his room.

Concern painted Flo’s face, “she slept with you?”

Austin shook his head, setting down his coffee. "No, she came over earlier. She’s just having a nap. She couldn’t sleep at your place."

Florence crossed her arms, studying him carefully. "Mhm. And are you trying to sleep with her?"

Austin met her gaze evenly. "No, I’m not trying to sleep with her."

"So, there are no feelings for her? And it’s normal for you to let anyone you’ve known four weeks sleep in your bed?" Florence pressed, her concern evident. She was your best friend, and you did only know Austin a few weeks. She really was only looking out for you, even if she was being a bit pushy for half seven in the morning.

Austin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Right now, my feelings for her are friend deep because that is all I’ll let them be. If she makes it clear to me that she wants me to make my move, then I will allow myself to feel more.”

Florence nodded slowly, her expression softening. "I just don’t want you hurting her."

"I promise, that is the very last thing I want to do," Austin assured her.

Florence glanced towards the bedroom, then back at Austin. "Alright, I’ve got to go. I’m already late. Thanks for the breakfast," she said, holding up the small to-go container he gave her.

"No problem," Austin replied with a warm smile. "Don’t work too hard."

Florence gave him a cheeky nod and grin before disappearing, her voice yelling, “I will hurt you if I find out you try anything on her,” earning a laugh from Austin.

You decided to pretend to still be asleep so he wouldn’t know you heard any of their conversation. Austin took a moment to gather himself before heading towards his bedroom where he thought you were still sleeping. He approached the doorframe and knocked gently. You groaned softly, stirring but not quite waking.

"Sorry," Austin whispered, not wanting to startle you. "Are you ready for some breakfast?"

You shook your head, still half-buried in the pillows. Austin smiled softly, about to walk away, when he heard you mumble his name.

"Yeah?" he responded, turning back towards you.

You reached out towards him, and he stepped closer, thinking you were asking for help getting up. But instead of taking his hand, you wrapped your arms around his neck, insisting on being held.

He leaned down, his strong arms easily lifting her from the bed. You nestled against him, your head resting on his shoulder.

"Where do you want to go? The couch?" he asked softly.

You shook your head, your hair brushing against his cheek. You laid your head more comfortably on his shoulder, and Austin took the cue, gently swaying back and forth, like rocking a baby. His arms were strong and steady, capable of holding you for as long as you needed him to.

You stayed like this for several minutes, the morning light casting a soft glow through the partially closed curtains. Austin felt a deep sense of peace, content just to be there with you. Eventually, he felt you shift slightly, a sign that you were ready to move. He lowered you gently back down, your feet touching the floor. You looked up at him with a shy smile, your eyes filled with warmth.

"Let’s get you some breakfast,” he smiled back.

A/N: hi I’m back !! I missed y’all 🥹 sorry this is bleh imma bit rusty

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absolutebl · 2 months ago

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This Week in BL - Why so much on right now?

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

NOV 2024 Week 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

Your Sky (Sun iQIYI) ep 1 of 12 - Classic old school Thai BL. Of course I love it. Naïve sunshine freshman vs strict older protective boy (who already likes him but refuses to show it). Is he grumpy or just gay and tired of all of these women? We don’t know. We don’t care. We just want to see them fake a relationship. And that’s what we’re getting. I love it. I also love the friendship group, and that the younger brother is in it and he has some of the same magic BL-hottie superpowers as his older brother. It’s great.

Love Sick 2024 (Sun iQIYI) ep 10 of 15 - Phun actually turns into dangerous babygirl when he is flirting, who knew? (Dangerous Babygirl is a new archetype I have just invented by the way. Yes, I am pleased with myself.) Noh, who is a nice boy, doesn’t stand a chance. Neither does Jeed, since this new babygirl superpower gives Phun a damn near perfect “back off bitch” face.

The arm drape public claiming, it gets me every time. Has done since SOTUS. Nong Mick is hero-level in this version, hands-down my favorite character this time around (and a non-entity last time). I love him so much I can’t stand it. I haven’t updated my 1:1 comparison yet this week, didn’t have time to rewatch 2014, but I will later tonight. I'm chronicling my experience with 2024 as compared to 2014 here.

Kidnap (Fri Gaga) ep 12 end - What an absolutely excellent final episode. Smiley kisses!

Conclusion

A cute if patently absurd little show about a stuntman who is somehow convinced to kidnap a rich kid except they fall in love. It takes itself a little more seriously than it deserves for such a silly plot and some crappy stunts and contradictory content, but it was a pleasantly romantic experience all around, and I enjoyed myself. Extra credit for Q in that perfect blue color throughout. No complaints, a solid BL. 8/10

The Heart Killers (Weds Gaga) ep 1 of 12 - Jojo directs FirstKhao & JoongDunk in an action romcom about assassin brothers (Khao & Joong) who meet a tattoo artist (First) and a cocky mechanic (Dunk). I'm highly amused that Joong plays the older brother to Khao and that we have a take on the Taming of the ShrewBL. This has all GMMTV's best chemistry in one BL and some fresh concepts that I've only seen tackled in m/m romance novels (check out Amy Lane's Racing for the Sun, thank me later). My only quibble is Jojo, I like his style but his characters can get unreliably messy so…... this gonna be interesting.

Buckle up buttercups I got thoughts:

Frankly, I haven’t decided if this is good or so bad and so camp that it’s good? The latter I suspect. Either way, I’m enjoying it very much, but I had very little doubt that I would. This falls into so many of my wheelhouses. Not just the premise but the casting and the approach and the script. They pretty much knocked it out of the park with the first episode: one night stand + safe sex + linguistic negotiation = I’m in! During the opening sequence I spent the entire time worried about how many fingerprints Bison was leaving everywhere. And then I realized this show is going to require DEMAND we turn our brains entirely off.

We are in KinnPorshce / The Sign territory people. Take emergency precautions! Do not engage brain meats!

Kiss Me Kate only gay and hitmen? Frankly, it sells itself. The music is extremely stupid though. (Brain, stop it!) I gotta say that FirstKhao are good because…… FirstKhao. But JoongDunk are absolutely perfectly cast. Like: couldn’t be a better pair in these roles. Dunk, in particular, is slaying. I did not have Dunk as Petruchio down on my “best casting choice of all time” BL bingo card, but apparently there he is. Awesome.

Fourever You (Thurs YT) ep 8 of 16 - I’m warming up to the second couple a little bit. I actually don’t mind a bully romance the way some do. But this isn’t quite hitting the notes that I want from one. Still, I found this week more engaging than last week.

Secret Love (? YT?) 1-12 of 81 eps - They dropped 12 eps at once randomly on YT totaling about 20 min. So of course, I watched it. Because I have no self-control and STEPBROTHERS! Adopted into a rich family, boy falls in love with heir. But when he is made the heir instead, everything goes wrong. Now enemies the two boys reunite and sparks! I hate this format but dammit I love this utter dross. It’s very early Chinese BL feeling but from Thailand. I don’t care. It’s so stupidly great. This is my kind of BL.

Caged Again (Fri Gaga) ep 3 of 10 - There is something sweetly innocent and earnest about this show. It reminds me of Takara and Amagi or even Light On Me but less stiff - this one is quintessentially quirky and casually Thai about it. It’s interesting that this has an 18+ rating, which means it’s either gonna go very violent or sexy or both. Right now I can’t imagine that, it doesn’t suit. But I’m looking forward to seeing where this goes. Junior with his Mean Girl crop top moment is the goddess of the week though. Fierce queen penguin.

Perfect 10 Liners (Sun YT?) ep 4 of 24 - I love the side couple so damn much. How are they so adorable? Still not wild about the mains, and not likely to get there anytime soon. That said, I did like seeing the “sleeping in your boyfriend‘s class while he gives you his jacket” trope drop. We haven’t had that one for a really long time. My Engineer maybe?

Every You Every Me (Mon Gaga) ep 7 of 8 - I did find this installment kind of boring. I just don’t like actors as main characters. Much as I’m enjoying this show and I think the actors are doing a good job, I really do wish it was more like what we had been sold on: Connected reborn characters fated to be together over and over again. Not this weird little mishmash of whatever. I’m now annoyed by a format I was initially charmed by.

Jack & Joker (Mon IQIYI) ep 10-11 of 12 - still on hold until it ends or I can cope with the pain. I just can’t go into darkness right now.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Our Youth AKA Miseinen: Mijukuna Oretachi wa Bukiyo ni Shinkochu (Japan Tues Gaga) ep 3 of 11 - SNIFF TEST! But done by Japan so it’s that much better and more kinky. The way H looks at M pretty much defines naked lust. “I got extra beat up so you’d take pity on me and then I admitted it to you” is so damn warped I can’t even with this boy. This feral kid is gonna drive me feral. The power and the control and the execution of this show is just spectacular. I keep thinking about it after its done and telling people IRL about it. (I rarely talk BL IRL.) It’s classy. I do love it when Japan does classy BL for us.

See Your Love (Taiwan Weds Gaga) ep 6 of 13 - so completely and utterly adorable. The learning sign language thing! I loved it so much.

Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues Netflix?) 10 of 12 eps - Possibly one of the best confessions of the year I have to say. Also a wonderful character growth arc for our lawyer. Exactly as one might hope. The plot twist was slightly predictable but still adds a delicious note of tension to our final episodes.

Blue Canvas of Youthful Days (China Sun iQIYI) eps 7-8 of 12 - You don’t want me but you won’t let anybody else have me either. The song of the repressed seme. I did like the irrational jealousy moment and a few other bits, of course the crying kiss. You know I love a crying kiss. Even if it’s a somewhat censored one. But this is also leaning a little bit darker than I want at the moment. This being China, I anticipate the darkness and doom getting worse not better.

Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 9 of ? - The incredible migrating lip injury continues. Could we please get on with the BL aspect of this show? I’m getting frustrated as well as slightly bored at this juncture. Pacing darlings. Pacing.

Love in the Air: Koi no Yokan (Japan Sat Gaga) ep 4 of 10 - Still not sure. I think I like this better than the original, but I’m confused. I did make disgusted scoff noises and say “oh dear” a couple of times. Which makes me sound like a World War II grandpa (only the housemate's cat noticed), but is also classic me when profoundly disappointed by a piece of media. That’s said, the sex scene was pretty good. In the end, I wasn’t as frustrated by this version of these characters, but they didn’t have as many highs or lows as the original. So first half probably works out about the same in my all-purpose rating system. The true proof in the pudding is going to be couple number 2 tho......

It's airing but......

Winter Is Not The Death of Summer (Weds YT) ?? eps - Criminals who meet in prison fall in love. I did find it on YouTube, but I did not find any English subs for it. The first episode seems to be only six minutes long. It is very pulp. But it is intriguing. So I hope it gets some sort of international or something at some point. for now I’ll put it to the wayside.

Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) 10 eps - I DNF'd at ep 7, I couldn't make it. I am weak. Life is hard enough right now, this show is making it harder. It’s not what I want from my entertainment.

Bad to Bed (Taiwan Sat YT) 10 eps - This is a little too low production value even for me + just very very odd. DNF