#damn i wish they were better lit

[blmpff]

14.01.24

[idolindrawer]

Snap

IVE Yujin x Male Reader Smut 3.4k words

I'm not a native English speaker, so some expressions might sound odd. I'm always open to suggestions for improvement.

"Whatever you wish for will come true if you wish for it correctly,” the fortune teller says.

"That's not what I came here for," you say, stubbing out your cigarette in the ashtray with a huff of annoyance. "Don't you have any better advice?"

"This is the best advice I can give you," the fortune teller replies, completely unfazed. "The key is to do it correctly. Wishes need a trigger."

Growing increasingly irritated, you begin snapping your fingers repeatedly to vent your frustration. You came seeking guidance on how to improve your life, but this is a huge disappointment. 

The fortune teller seems oblivious to your anger and says cheerfully, "There you go, use that as your trigger. Whenever you make a wish, snap your fingers."

"This is like throwing 50,000 won down the drain," you sigh in exasperation, grabbing your bag and jacket, ready to leave the fortune teller's tent.

"Well, feel free to go,” the fortune teller says, looking surprised as if he had never met a customer who didn't believe in his words. "But it'll be worth 50,000 won if you give it a try."

Because of that fortune teller, the lunch break was wasted. You hurry along the path to your office, but as usual, you get held up by the traffic lights just 200 meters before. Being late is unavoidable.

While waiting, a bank advertisement on a nearby building catches your eyes. A celebrity girl dressed in the bank's signature green gives you a broad smile. You've seen her in other ads before. Isn't her name An Yujin or something? She must be a member of some idol group. You vaguely recall your niece being a huge fan.

Even when you look back at the red light of the traffic signal, you can’t get her out of your mind. How much did she earn from that bank ad, anyway? She’s probably around twenty, but her bank account must hold far more than my lifetime earnings... Damn it.

Seriously, if I were giving that huge amount of money to a young girl like her, I’d demand a much more provocative ad. I’d have her wear a skirt so short that her underwear can be seen in front of the press and have her shamelessly flaunt her ass to the cameras. Now that would be sure-fire marketing! You snap your fingers idly, indulging in this wicked fantasy of degrading celebrities to satisfy your ego.

Suddenly, someone's shoulder bumps into you from behind, jolting you back to reality. The light is green.

Just before leaving work, you scroll through social media and are stunned. It turns out that the girl from the ad you had seen at your lunch break was involved in a promotional event just a few hundred meters away. Moreover, she was wearing a skirt so short that it was almost revealing her underwear. The innocent young girl from the ad photo, now in a video from just two hours earlier, was dressed as if the whole of Korea had run out of fabric, shamelessly revealing her toned thighs to the gathered crowd. With a playful twirl, she revealed a glimpse of her white underwear covering her buttocks.

You happen to recall the words of that fortune teller: "Whenever you make a wish, snap your fingers." Did I actually snap my fingers? If so, then that fortune teller must have been a true psychic. If, as he said, wishes can really come true, is there anyone who wouldn't wish for something bigger?

Mesmerized by Yujin's legs on the screen, you swallow hard and imagine her sensual image. Tight-dressed Yujin is kissing in the dimly lit hotel room. As her dress is unzipped, black lace lingerie is revealed. Her buttocks are just covered with a bare minimum G-string, which she teasingly lets fall to her ankles, spreading her legs to accept the cock...

You snap your fingers once, forcefully. If this is going to work, the closer to her, the better chances might be. The event should have ended about an hour and a half ago, but is she still there? Hastily gathering your belongings, you clock out and run out of the office building towards the event venue.

The streets around the venue are teeming with people who have gathered information from social media, yet Yujin is nowhere to be seen. Disappointed to find that the event has ended, most people slowly drift into nearby cafes. Some remain standing, visibly dissatisfied, and frantically searching social media for any trace of her.

You open social media, but find it worthless due to the numerous accounts already capitalizing on her popularity and leveraging it to gain attention. “We're selling rare photo cards!” “Try this dating app for guaranteed meet-ups.” #IVE #YUJIN “Click here for an AI-generated celebrity sex tape...” In the sample video, a porn star with Yujin's face, digitally altered and occasionally glitching, kisses a naked man in a hotel room. His hand reaches for the zipper at her back, unzipping it to reveal her skin, which is trimmed with black lace lingerie...

Wait, can this really be the wish come true? The video is eerily close to what I imagined, but if this is it, then it’s a joke taken too far. The fortune teller must have been a fraud after all. Feeling everything is suddenly absurd, you shove your phone into your pocket and start walking toward the station.

Near the venue, the same posters of Yujin that you saw during the day are displayed, her trusting smile reaching out to you. The fortune teller's words echo in your mind: "The key is to do it correctly." What if the fortune teller was a genuine psychic, and the way to wish was wrong? The first wish came true, after all, and her sex was pulled off even in a rubbish way. It might be too early to conclude that he is a fake psychic.

There could be several reasons for the failure, but simply imagining her sex scene wasn't enough. That is, it requires imagining myself having sex with her. As vividly as possible, the feel of her body, myself slipping in between her legs...

You imagine carefully, snapping your fingers. Fate should take care of the rest. If this doesn't work, tomorrow I'll storm back to that fortune teller and demand my money back.

Before catching the train at the station, you detour slightly to use the public restroom. Using this station over 250 days a year, you know exactly where to find the always empty and relatively clean toilets.

You finish your business, wash your hands carelessly, and as you lift your head to see a tall girl staring at you from the mirror. Her white skirt is so short that her underwear is almost visible.

"An Yujin...ssi?"

It's definitely her. She's wearing the same outfit she had on at the daytime event, her arms crossed, looking slightly displeased at you.

"Why are you here?" you ask timidly. 

"Isn't this what you wanted?" With that, Yujin strides towards you, her hand reaching for the belt of your pants without hesitation. "Let's get this over with." 

Intimidated by the girl's boldness, you calmly scan the surroundings to ensure it’s safe, then guide her by the arm into the cleanest stall you can find.

"Are you the real An Yujin?" You whisper, keeping your voice low to avoid being heard. 

"There's another me?" She glances at you exasperatedly, then returns to dealing with your pants. With the same detachment as unlocking a door, she unbuckles your belt, lowers the zipper, and pulls off your pants. Her movements are awkward, but she's completely focused on her task, as if you weren’t even there, and that annoys you a little.

Despite her businesslike demeanor, every time her slender fingers brush against your lower body, your cock stiffens with the intimacy of contact you haven't felt in a long time and the anticipation of what's to come.

“But I haven't done anything yet?” Her fingers caress through your underwear, confirming your arousal. Looking satisfied with the heat of your groin, she smiles.

“May I take these off?” Before you can even nod, she’s already crouching down, pulling the waistband of your boxer briefs down to your ankles, revealing you completely.

Yujin remains crouched, staring at your exposed cock with interest. As you glance down, you notice her tight white mini shorts peeking out from under her skirt. Your cock responds to it, twitching with excitement before her eyes.

“You like being watched, huh?” Yujin says with a knowing smile. As she wraps her hand around your cock, giving it a few strokes, she stands up. You, expecting oral sex or something more, are disappointed and surprised. 

“Hey, is that all?”

"I'll do what you wished," she says with a mischievous grin. Then, balancing on her tiptoes and spreading her legs slightly, she holds your cock between the middle of her thighs carefully. "Feel free to move.”

You realize you've messed up again. When you snapped your fingers, you may have been too focused on her legs, and the wish was misinterpreted as thighfuck with her.

“Uh, wait a moment, let me snap my fingers again. This time, I’ll do it right,” you babble in a flustered tone, causing Yujin to look at you with curiosity. “Snap your fingers? What do you mean? Are you already satisfied?”

No way. The wish may have been downgraded, but it's the worst outcome to lose the favorable situation that's already come true. You pull yourself together and direct your full attention on the sensations of her two legs.

Her thighs are curvaceous compared to her slender waist, wrapping around your shaft and transferring her warmth from all directions. As you hold onto her thighs and move your body slowly back and forth, you can feel her bare, soft skin follow together, and the firm muscle layer beneath grips your cock tightly and never releases it.

"Your legs are incredibly gorgeous," you mutter, and for the first time, Yujin looks genuinely embarrassed. It's unclear why this celebrity girl was sent here, but it’s clear that she’s here to provide sexual services to this stranger, so why not make the most of it?

You put your hands on her hips and accelerate the reciprocating motions. As you press your lower body against her legs, the silky surface of her thighs ripples in response. Yujin grips your shoulders to stay balanced, trying to keep steady despite the constant kinetic energy. Your chin rests on her shoulder, and her hair brushes against your face. The sweet scent of her conditioner unexpectedly captivates you.

As sweat beads on your forehead, you wonder why, even though the wish was downgraded, things are still happening that you didn’t expect. Perhaps there’s no rule saying that once a wish is granted in a silly way, nothing else can occur. It might be up to the one who wished to make use of the situation.

To get the most out of the circumstances, you begin to secretly explore the boundary. Slide your hands back on her hips slightly, then cover her ass. There is no indication of her resistance. You knead on Yujin’s tight buttocks and move as if you were thrusting her. It seemed you heard a faint noise leak out of her mouth, but she didn’t stop you.

Then you bring your hands a little bit towards her waist, slipping them under the hem of Yujin’s blouse. Carefully touching her bra in her clothes, your eyes meet hers.

"Can I touch them?"

“Get it done quickly, okay?” Yujin says, looking away. You take that as approval and rub her breasts roughly. She's wearing something like a bandeau bra with no wires underneath her clothing, and you can feel the softness of her breasts even though they’re covered with the bra. But seized by an inevitable urge to see the hardness at the center, you forcefully pull the bra down.

Yujin's breasts are perfectly proportioned, and their distinct curvature and firmness bring a sense of satisfaction. When you touch their smoothness, you’re amazed to see your fingers sinking more than you expected. At the center, a reddish-brown areola the size of a coin surrounds a taut, protruding nipple. You pinch them lightly, then electricity runs through her body. She bashfully covers her mouth with the back of her hand, trying to hide her rough breath.

When you get carried away and go to kiss her, she pulls you away. With her flushed face, she said, “Focus on finishing this” while suffering the pleasure of her upper body.

As you explore Yujin’s youthful body freely, your cock is growing more sensitive and nearing release under the pressure of her thighs. However, your overwhelming passion for the ultimate goal makes it impossible to be satisfied with just releasing your desire between her legs.

“But I wanna be inside you.”

“Just come like this,” she responds bluntly. Expecting this answer, you decided to try another approach.

You stop moving for a moment, pull the hot shaft out from between her legs, lift her hips up, and then push it back in, at a higher position than before, so it can rub against her mini shorts.

“Wait, what are you…” Yujin becomes upset, but when you start moving it, she lets out a small moan. Thrusting your thickness, you can feel the softness of her pussy through the fabric. As you adjust the angle to hit her sweet spot, her hips twitch slightly in response to the pleasure.

Yujin grabs your shoulders and lowers her head, rounding her back to resist the temptation. Although you can't see her face, her shallow, quickened breaths sync with your sensation. You shift one of your hands from her hips to her chest, palming her breast and teasing her nipple with your fingertips.

Her short cry echoes in the empty train station restroom, and both you and she look at each other in surprise. The air feels frozen for a moment, but as you realize there’s no one around to hear it, you both resume the session.

As you gaze into Yujin's eyes, she meets your stare with disheveled hair and a messy face. She is flushed and damp with sweat, and her eyebrows are filled with shame and pleasure. Every time you tease her breasts with a nipple, she bites her lower lip, indicating that your treatment isn’t wrong.

“Keep going,” Yujin murmured with words that were neither order nor plea, revealing her desperate need for ecstasy. You see this as an opportunity to negotiate with her in the heat of the moment.

"After I get it into you," you say clearly, and Yujin seems unsure of how to respond, looking confused. The wish granted you fake sex with IVE's Yujin, but if you want anything more, you’ll have to achieve it on your own. So, does this mean that the An Yujin in front of you is genuinely struggling with whether or not to accept your cock, regardless of the power of the wish?

You think the last push is necessary and sneak your hand inside her shorts, searching for her clit. Her pussy is already soaking wet, and as you slide your fingers on her sensitive skin, which is coated with lube, unbearable pleasure spreads throughout her body. Yujin lets out a muffled moan, and she hugs your neck to keep herself from collapsing. Finally, she gives in and says, "Okay, okay.”

She looks at you awkwardly, pinches the waistband of her shorts, and then lowers them with a polite gesture. As she lifts her leg and removes the high heels from her shorts, you catch a glimpse of her completely shaved pussy. With a hand on the stall door, she turns around and slightly lifts her skirt, presenting her buttocks to you.

"Oppa, hurry up.”

Her curt tone sounded like a cheap whore, which rather turned you on. You place your cock against her wet labia and press gently. You are permitted to enter through her moist skin and proceed into her feverish depth. As your head glides along with her mucus walls, she groans in sensation. Retracing the path, you feel her pussy waves and grips your cock tightly, pulling you back to inside.

While you teasingly savor her insides, Yujin gestures with her sweaty hand to thrust more. You grab her waist roughly and drag her buttocks toward your pelvis. The sounds of skin slapping against skin echo through the empty restroom, her buttocks undulating, and the young idol's unrestrained cries fill the air.

Yujin's breathing becomes irregular and intense as a result of your relentless thrusting. She tries to soften the impact by moving away from you, but the small stall offers no escape. Despite her effort, the insistent slamming continues unabated, and she appears to be on the edge of collapse.

“Oppa, I need a…" She manages to whisper, shaken by the assault from behind. You pretend not to hear her while constantly stirring her pussy. You fiercely grasp the artistic shape of her ass with both hands, thrusting the heated shaft in and out of the lubricated hole in the center.

With one thrust, Yujin rounds her back and convulses her whole body. After a few seconds of trembling, exhaustion overwhelms her, and she’s about to fall. You quickly catch her, turn her around, and sit her down on the lid of the closed toilet.

Her face is flushed red, and she is barely catching her breath. Her nipples move up and down as she breathes, and her legs hang on either side of the toilet, displaying her undressed lower body. The contrast with her cheerful smile in the advertisement is intensely stimulating, but you avoid staring at her to keep her from realizing how she looks now and getting back to reality.

Yujin's inner thighs are glistening with a few streaks of wetness. You take and place them on your shoulders, inserting your still-hot cock from the front. She moans softly and becomes addicted to the sensation of your shaft stretching out her vagina.

As you push your cock through her labia and into her depth, the force causes her breasts to jiggle. You are immersed in the awareness of your movements piercing through her entire body, unable to stop yourself from moving frantically. Instinct guides your hands to her swinging breasts, your lips to her sweat-slicked neck, and then to her lips for a kiss. This time, Yujin doesn’t resist and gives in to your approach. You and this idol caress each other's lips, entwine their tongues, and share the taste of saliva.

Slamming your shaft into Yujin's pussy, you rub her clit with the thumb of one hand a few times. She twists her face and manages to remain silent in a desperate effort, but as the moment of release approaches again, her expression turns into a mix of fear and anticipation.

She presses both hands against her mouth, and after a split-second of weakness, her body trembles with orgasm on the toilet lid. Her inside is spasming around your cock, but you can't stop moving because you feel the dopamine approaching. Thrusting her lube-soaked, fluttering cunt just a few times, hot semen rushes into her depths.

Breathing heavily, you and Yujin watch the cock is pulled out of her pussy, which is glistening with mucus, and the sperm runs out. Yujin's hair is tangled, and she appears fatigued, but there is a strange satisfaction on her face as she looks at the spilled secretions.

As you're wrapping the toilet paper, you hear a few men entering the restroom. Hey, come on. It's gonna take a while to get out. The instant you are distracted by the noise outside, you feel a warm, wet touch on your lower body. Yujin is bending over, eagerly putting your cock into her mouth, and bobbing her head to suck out every last drop of your cum. Surprised, yet unable to resist the seductive sensation of her tongue gliding over your shaft, your cock quickly returns to its earlier state.

"Looks like we can't go out yet," leaving lips from your cock, Yujin whispers teasingly. "There's still time for another round, right?” she says, carefully sitting back down on the toilet lid so as not to make any noise, and spreading her graceful long legs wide.

Damn, it’s really worth 50,000 won.

[incognit0slut]

Buried in the pillow

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A night of restless sleep ends better than expected. Based on;

warning: 18+ explicit content including edging, a little chocking, sexual intercourse, and dom spence

words: 4,6k (I got carried away😭)

a/n: am I supposed to be writing something else? Yes. Will it stop me from writing a slow, lazy sex scene? NO

MASTERLIST

“…you’re buried in the pillow, yeah you’re so loud…”

THERE WAS NO DENYING THE WARM FLOOD OF AROUSAL RUSHING IN HER SYSTEM. Y/n inhaled a sharp breath, her heart rate climbing in her chest she could feel her pulse throbbing through her entire body. She readjusted herself along her pillow and closed her eyes before exhaling, her thighs pressed together as she tried not to let her mind travel into any lewd thoughts.

But the sound of his shallow breathing was enough to make her terribly aware of the abrupt shift in her body. She could feel the dull, needy throb between her legs merging with that burn of sheer want for him low in her stomach. Her eyes fluttered open then, and there he was, sleeping on his side of the bed with his face facing toward her.

Spencer looked so peaceful. His eyes were closed, lashes brushing along his cheeks, and his mouth slightly parted while his chest rose in a steady rhythm, a sign of him in complete slumber. She had seen the drowsiness in his eyes the moment he walked through the door this evening, the fatigue clumped in his shoulders as he kissed her in greeting. It had been days since the last time he had proper sleep, having to travel across the country for a recent case, and today he finally had the chance to rest his bones from all of the work.

But it also meant it had been eleven days, fifteen hours, and forty-six minutes since the last time she had him buried deep inside her...

Not that she was counting.

Fine—maybe she was. Maybe she was keeping up with their time apart because being with him was something she looked forward to, in and out of the bedroom. How could she not? He was her partner; her smart, caring boyfriend who she loved too damn much and would do anything to bide the time relishing in his presence.

Although tonight she did have a specific activity in mind, which now seemed more like wishful thinking considering he was already deep in slumber. He needed the sleep, she reminded herself. He was simply tired and he needed all the rest he could get.

Swallowing hard, Y/n tried to push her desire back down. She turned over, laid back down on her back, and let her eyelids fall back down as she settled her arms to her side. But the position was too uncomfortable. She let out a groan and shifted again, hips moving along the bed a few times before she finally stopped.

The feel of something shifting woke Spencer up, his mind slowly stirring awake. A soft sigh escaped him as he lay silently, his mind quieted in the stillness of the night. Then his breathing evened out a moment later, exhaustion of the past few days took over before his eyelids lowered, body drifting back to sleep. Except for a little bit later, he heard more rustling along the pillow, a soft, feminine sound of frustration barely ringing in his ears. This time he slowly opened his eyes, adjusting himself in the dark.

The first thing he noticed was a mass of hair laid in front of him, then bare arms and a slender body clad in a silky nightgown. There was silence as he tried to pick up her breathing, watching her back move steadily in the poorly lit room. When another exasperated sigh escaped her, Spencer inched closer and reached out, an arm wrapping around her waist as he pulled her closer toward him.

"Hey," he softly murmured, concerned about her constant movements in her sleep. "You alright?"

Y/n stopped herself from letting out a moan. On normal occasions, being pressed up against him in bed would lull her to sleep, the comfort of his arms provided an immense amount of warmth and safety. Definitely not tonight. The way his arm tightened around her, tugging her back into his solid chest awoken that part of her she tried to suppress. The heat of his body enveloped her and she found herself leaning back, accepting the warmth he was offering.

"Hmm," her returning hum answered, sinking deeper into his embrace.

"Bad dream?"

She stopped herself from snorting. She couldn't even get a wink of sleep and here he was, concerned about the possibility of her having nightmares. But it was a better reason than to admit why she couldn't rest her eyes, so she nodded, her voice slightly breathless as she whispered, "Something like that."

The silence in the air after her reply was jarring. If Spencer was half-awake before, he was fully awake now, the rasp in her voice far too familiar for him to ignore. And when he finally regained his consciousness back, he became highly aware of his surroundings. The soft mattress underneath him, the plush pillow below his head, and the soft curves pressed against him.

He could feel her body trembling underneath his palm, her breathing picking up its pace as his fingers glided along her stomach. He could practically hear the sound of her heartbeat as he pulled her even closer, his head shifting along her shoulder, his nose brushing against the back of her neck. The subtle fragrance of flowers and honey filled his nostrils as he breathed in her scent, nuzzling further into her, the stubble of his jaw grazing along her skin.

"Spence," she muttered, tilting her head into the pillow. "What are you doing?"

"You seem to be having trouble sleeping." She felt the bed shift behind her as he moved again, and then a moment later she felt him pressing his hips into her ass. She let out a gasp. "I'm helping you relax."

She felt something pleasantly warm grazing her neck, his lips moving deliberately slow, as if he was in no hurry and only wanted to savor the taste of her skin. His hand then slid further up her stomach, palm flat as it dragged up her body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. It eventually stopped its roam, halting its search when he cupped her left breast tenderly.

She couldn't stop the strained moan from slipping out of her mouth. "Sleep isn't exactly on my mind right now."

"I figured," he murmured beside her ear, his hot breath drawing goosebumps along her skin. "How long have you been awake?"

His hand gently kneaded her breast as his mouth traveled along her neck. Her eyelids lowered slightly, a wet heat forming between her thighs as her arousal intensified. "I haven't slept."

"And why is that?" A finger brushed across her nipple through her thin nightgown. She suppressed a helpless whimper as his thumb circled around the nub, caressing it so gently she could feel her body shaking with need. "Go on." He tugged on her nipple between his fingers. "Use your words."

"I..." She felt his tongue softly grazing her skin before he wrapped his mouth around her flesh, sucking on the spot. What was she to say? That she was too aroused to relax? She carefully weighed her words, feeling bashful verbalizing her thoughts, so she finally settled with, "It was too hot."

He hummed in response, somehow acknowledging the meaning behind her words. She watched as his hand left her breast, sliding up her bare arm before it settled on the strap of her flimsy sleepwear. He gently tugged down the thin string as his mouth lowered towards her shoulder, languorously trailing kisses down the line of it. "We should do something about that, shouldn't we?"

She couldn't think clearly when his touch sent her into a whirlwind of chaos. To crave something was one thing, to actually acquire that craving was an entirely different thing. She had wanted to feel him so much, but as his hand trailed back to her now-exposed breast, her mind was in a mess of desperate longing and need. Somehow his mouth trailing on her neck wasn't enough. Somehow his callused fingers stroking her nipple wasn't enough. She needed to feel every inch of his body on her. She wanted all of him.

More, more, more.

"Spence," she breathed out, her hoarse voice hanging in the air.

A ghost of a smile played on his lips. "Tell me." His grip on her nipple tightened, and she shuddered at the sensation. "Tell me what you want."

"You," she answered in a daze. "I want you."

"What do you want me to do?" He gently bit her flesh. "Do you want me to make you feel good? Do you want me to touch you, relax the tension in your body?" Then her heart sped up in her chest, slamming roughly into her rib cage at his next words.

"Do you want me to fuck you to sleep?"

A strangled whimper left her mouth. Spencer was a lot of things in bed. When they had first been together, he was so timid and unsure of himself, too caught up in his thoughts that left him too afraid to touch her—which she honestly hadn't minded, she loved being the one who saw his transformation in the bedroom. But when he finally started to loosen up and be himself with her, exploring things he wanted to try, to finally take control? It drove her absolutely wild to experience him gain his confidence it made her weak in the knees every damn time.

Like this side of him now always managed to render her speechless. Perhaps it was the way he was so poised and calm outside the bedroom, a very different demeanor when he was alone with her, that made it all seem so overwhelming. In the safety of their bedroom, he was everything he desired, and being crude and demanding was what he decided to be this night.

His hand caressing her nipple slid up her chest, his fingers gently wrapping around the base of her neck. Her breath hitched as he softly gripped it, pulling her even further into his chest. "Tell me, is that what you want?"

She was breathing even heavier now, her shoulders heaving with each audible inhale. "Yes."

He bit her earlobe, evoking another breathless shudder out of her. "Explain it in words, I need you to speak to me."

Y/n enjoyed the sweet, gentle way he made love to her. She really did. Very, very much so. But there was a certain enjoyment whenever he was in control. Whenever he let himself go and have his way with her—crass words over sweet nothings, rough stokes over soft touches. It burned her skin and gripped onto her arousal, waking up the submissive side of her which she enjoyed more than she should probably have.

Spencer's grip tightened at her silence. "Are you not going to answer me?"

"Yes," she quickly responded, feeling the subtle bulge of him pressed along her backside. "Please."

"Please... what?"

She couldn't believe he was making her say it. Y/n inhaled a sharp breath and leaned into his touch, practically shifting the weight of her body on top of him. "Spence."

"I need to hear the words or you won't get anything at all," he spoke, his thumb grazing her chin.

The thought of being left sexually frustrated was enough for her to nod, giving in to his command. "Yes," she whispered, and because she wanted to make him feel as desperate as she was, she squirmed, hips writhing along his groin as she searched for friction. "I want you to fuck me to sleep."

A pleased rumble vibrated in his throat. Letting go of her neck, his hand trailed down her body and landed on the top of her thigh, gently massaging the muscle beneath his palm. His fingers skimmed up toward her skin, pushing up her nightgown, exposing more delicate skin and skimpy underwear barely covering her ass. Then it happened so fast. One moment he was caressing her, the next thing she knew his hand drew back before it came barreling forward with a sharp smack that echoed in the room. She gasped in pleasant surprise, her clit throbbing in excitement as his palm rubbed along the stinging flesh.

"You liked that, didn't you?"

She whimpered in response. Then his hand retreated from her ass only to come flying forward again with another sharp crack. Her hips jolted forward at the impact, her eyes closing at the delicious sting as his hand held onto her her stomach. His fingers then slowly trailed south and her breath hitched in her throat as she felt his lips hot on her ear.

"Open your legs, sweetheart."

Her knees fell apart at the demand, one of her legs laying on top of his. She waited for him to touch her, to dip his hand into her aching folds in the confinement of her underwear. Instead, his fingers slipped into the side of her fabric, tugging the material to the side, exposing wet, damp skin to his desire. The slick evidence of her arousal stuck onto the fabric so thickly it was enough for her to feel the heat creeping along her cheeks.

"Would you look at that?" He whispered, lips touching the back of her ear. "I haven't even touched you here and you're already soaking wet."

Her heart was pounding hard in her chest as she watched him. There wasn't a moment of hesitation while his fingers tugged the waistband of her underwear, gingerly sliding them down her legs before pulling them past her feet and casting them somewhere over the side of the bed. Then he grabbed onto her knee, parting her legs further apart but not doing anything to quench her desire. He could feel her trembling, writhing with need as she pressed further into his front.

The cool air hit her exposed skin, and it took a lot of self-control for her not to beg even further, but the way her body squirmed was enough to let him know what she craved. Though his hand stayed where it was, firmly gripping onto her left leg, sliding it on top of his while his lips lazily mapped along her neck.

"Here's what we're going to do," his gruff voice filled her ears. "I'm going to touch you, I'm going to please you in every way you like—" His hand slid painfully slow down her thigh before it came to a complete stop. "—but you can only cum when I give you permission to." His fingers inched closer to her throbbing heat. "Do I make myself clear?"

A shiver spread along her body, understanding what he meant by those words. He wanted to rule her, he wanted to be the one in charge of her own body. And while she should've felt appalled at the thought, her arousal rather grew deeper at every ticking second as he waited for her reply.

And then suddenly his fingers wrapped around her neck again, gently pressing onto her skin as he jutted his hips towards her. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," she begged him, her hand lightly tugging around his arm. "Perfectly clear."

Then his hand trailed down again, slightly brushing her aroused nipples before it settled on the heated span between her legs. When the pads of his fingers lightly grazed her clit, his teeth bit down on her shoulder. A hiss of pleasure instantly flew out of her mouth. Two of his fingers began running back and forth between her damp folds, the sensation was gradually pulling shallower and shallower breaths from her.

"You're so wet," he growled against her skin. "This what you've been needing?"

She faintly nodded, her hips moving gradually with his fingers. His fingers circled in swift motion and it was enough for her to roll her head back onto his shoulder. His fingers then slid back into her slicked entrance before he abruptly slipped two of them into her. Eyes snapping shut, she groaned in pleasure. He began thrusting slowly into her over and over, curling them deep inside. A whimper escaped her mouth at the feel of them as he began to pump into her roughly, her hips pressing eagerly back into his hand.

"I can already feel you clenching around my fingers," he whispered. "You really needed this, didn't you?"

"So much," she found herself answering, a hand grasping onto his arm as he kept thrusting his fingers at a steady pace. "I needed you."

"Then you have me. You'll always have me."

A breathy moan flew out of her at his words, her back arched in response. She felt his lips pulling into a smile along her skin, thrusting his fingers all the way in. She moaned loudly, her head dropping down between his shoulders as he pulled his fingers out before quickly pushing them right back inside.

"Spence," she breathlessly sighed, his fingers still vigorously thrusting into her, only pausing to occasionally curl inside of her which in turn had her toes curling on the bed, her body feeling closer to the edge of her release. "I-I'm gonna—"

"No. You're not."

She let out a loud groan, griping his arm as he thrust deeper, his fingers spreading wider into her as another finger entered her heat. His warm breath was brushing over her skin, the sensation mingled with his finger still thrusting into her deliciously pleasant. "Baby, I-I can't—"

"You can," he whispered, his breathing sounding harsher than before. "You're going to wait until I give you my permission."

A harsh moan ripped in her throat, her body spasming as she tried to force herself to control her body. but it was getting harder to do when her vision felt like it was blurring, her breath coming in sharp pants as his fingers continued to drive into her, the sensation had her legs shaking. She could hear how wet she was, the slick sound of him pumping into her echoed in the room.

"You're really enjoying this," he ground out as his pace picked up. "You're already so close."

She nodded against the pillow, whimpering out an affirmative noise that wasn't quite a word.

"Then I can't let that happen."

Instead of getting what she wanted, he abruptly pulled his fingers out from inside of her before she whined in protest. The loss of his touch on her body was too much to handle as she gripped his arm again, guiding him back between his legs. Spencer couldn't help the amusement dripping in his voice as he watched her move his fingers with her own. "What are you doing?"

"Spence, I was so close—"

"That's not how this works."

Then he retrieved his hand again before shifting behind her, and when she caught him pulling down his sweatpants, she couldn't help but arch her body towards him. She swallowed hard, goosebumps raising along her skin as she watched him pull out his cock, his hand gripping onto the length of it as he settled between her legs.

A moment later she felt the head of his cock rubbing through her damp folds, a shudder running down her spine at the sensation, a soft hum vibrating through her lips. She felt him line himself up with her entrance, her breath feeling like it was catching in her throat as she impatiently waited for him.

And then, finally, after many days of being apart, the tip of him slid inside of her so slowly. A gasp fell out of her mouth. Spencer rumbled out a very gruff, contented noise as he gradually sunk even deeper inside of her, pausing to let herself adjust to him.

"You feel so warm," he groaned out. "So perfectly warm."

She moaned in response, breath coming in hard. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

She could feel her walls fluttering around him, trying to adjust to his girth. Then his hips slowly began rocking into her, pleasure washing over her body in waves at the sensation. His mouth lowered beside her ear, each of his panting breaths falling straight into it. "Nice—" He moved his hips back before pushing them forward leisurely, enjoying the way she clenched around him. "—and slow."

The roll of his hips pulled her into a trance as her body responded; muscles straining, eyes widening, lips parting. Sparks of electricity began to ricochet along every nerve. The coil inside her was building up, her chest was rising and falling faster, more and more, dragging desperate breaths into her lungs with every thrust of his hips.

Then her eyes shifted downwards, watching the way he entered her deliciously body. It was a strange sight, to watch her body react to something so wonderful. Her muscles tensed, goosebumps sprang up along her skin, and it was all there for her viewing pleasure. She watched as he shoved himself into her, over and over again, her walls trembling at how intoxicating he was making her feel.

"Baby, I—" she whimpered, trembling in her wake. "I can't hold much longer."

"You can," he assured her, his fingers digging into her skin.

Weak and desperate, she surrendered in the wake of the urge elicited by his abrasive touch. His hands were all over her, large and expansive, confident in the way he touched, squeezed, and fondled every part of her body. Eager flames bloomed in the pit of her gut. "I—I can't."

He relished the way she clenched around him, her breathing coming out shallow as he took what he wanted. Then he gripped her hips, building up his pace as he thrust deeper into her. "You're so close, I can feel it," he pointed out. "Do you want to cum?"

She tried to focus her mind on something other than the feeling of him inside her. "Yes."

"Hmm," he hummed out, his pace briefly slowing. His lips brushed the shell of her ear as he demanded, "Beg me or I'll stop."

A whimper left her. "Spence."

His lips found her neck when he felt her walls squeezing him even tighter, "Do you want to cum?" he repeated against her skin.

"Mhmm."

"Use your words," he groaned as he increased the pace of his movements. "Say it."

Swallowing hard, her head rolled against his shoulder. Her lips were quivering as he kept up his pace, her body inching closer and closer to her release. She was fighting to hold it back, her body slowly beginning to shake along the mattress.

"Beg." Thrust. "Me." Thrust.

She was so close. Her eyes were half-lidded her voice rang in the air, breathless and desperate for his mercy from the overwhelming pleasure. "Please," she finally breathed out, almost letting out a cry, her lips parted in delight. "Baby—I-I... please let me cum."

"What was that?"

"Spencer," she whimpered desperately. "Please. Please. Let me—fuck.. baby, please."

This time she did let out a cry.

He snarled behind her before his teeth snapped at her earlobe, tugging at the delicate skin. Her body was quaking on the bed as she whined, struggling to hold back any longer. And when she felt like she was about to lose control, he finally released her earlobe and spoke, "Go on, then. Cum for me."

A loud moan flew up out of her throat, her body pressing back into his. She felt the hard clench of her walls around his length as pleasure spread through her entire body. As the coil in her stomach grew, she couldn't help but snake a hand down to where they were connected and quickly found her throbbing sex. Catching her desperate fingers, he swatted her hand away, replacing it with his own as his fingers circled around her clit.

His rough fingers taunting their joint bodies tipped her over that tantalizing edge. She felt each pulse of her walls so acutely, felt the heat flow throughout her spine as the high she reached never came to an end. He buried his face into her neck, kissing and biting the smooth skin. A certain movement from his fingers made her whole body shake. She couldn't handle it, couldn't see through the tears falling, couldn't feel anything but him and the hot pleasure.

She finally came with a scream, wrenched from her throat so roughly it seared its way out of her lungs and into the air. She felt herself clench around him, hard, and his hips shuddered violently against her. Her ears tingled at the rhythm of his grunts as he exhaled her name, his thrusts growing erratic. Then she felt him completely, she could feel his warmth seeping into her heat as he let out the most primal groan she had ever heard.

Silence engulfed them afterward, their heart slowing down from their erratic breathing. It wasn't until he slipped out of her that she let out a tired moan, her voice echoing in the dark. He gently grabbed her body and turned her around, cradling her cheek before leaning in for a kiss.

Then slowly, but steadily, all he tasted was her. It felt like a missing puzzle falling back to its place as his warm lips connected with hers. He was so enraptured by her touch, by the taste of her, that it took a lot for him to pull away. Breathing heavily, he finally rested his head back onto his pillow, a coy smile stretched on his lips as his thumb stroked along her cheek.

"Hi."

A sincere smile flourished on her face. "Hi."

"Well, that was... something."

She laughed as she leaned closer, wrapping her arm around his waist. "It was fun."

"It really was," he agreed, suddenly feeling shy as he realized what had just occurred. "I always surprise myself when I'm with you."

"Good," she simply said. He wrapped his arms around her as she settled in his embrace. They lay in comfortable silence, her head on his chest, legs draped over him as his fingers drew lazy patterns on her thigh. Then after a moment of relishing each other's presence, his deep voice cut through the silence.

"You know," he started, his voice very soft. "You could've just woken me up if you have trouble sleeping."

She slightly leaned back to look up at him. "You looked so peaceful, I didn't want to disturb you."

"Nothing about you will ever be disturbing to me."

She wrinkled her nose. "Even if you got home from a long, exhausting trip, you wouldn't mind if I woke you up for sex?"

"I'd especially want to be woken up for that reason," he replied in disbelief. His fingers trailed under her chin, angling her gaze on him. "Wouldn't you?"

She smiled at the thought. There was a delightful feeling as her mind wandered on the possibility of him interrupting her sleep because he craved her touch. "Alright," she agreed. "Duly noted."

His arms tightened around her. "Do you think you can sleep now?"

She hummed out a positive response, her face burrowing along his skin, just beneath his chin. Her body suddenly felt the heavy post-sexual bliss, and now surrounded by his warmth, she could feel the fatigue creeping into her body.

"I was hoping so," he murmured.

Tugging the sheets up higher over their body, she felt him shifting along the bed for a minute, his arms encircling her waist. His chin was carefully tucked onto the top of her head as he drew her in tight under the covers. And when the steady rhythm of his breathing embraced her, her body finally relaxed, falling into sleep.

[fawnhart]

bambi seeing drew for the first time after a bad date ! ˚ ᡣ𐭩. 𖥔 ๋࣭

The sound of deep bass echoed from the back of the room, a steady thrum that vibrated through the soles of her feet, but the air around bambi felt heavier than the music. Her heart was thumping in her chest, an anxious drumbeat to match the flashing lights and clinking glasses. The after-party for Loewe was in full swing, the loft space tucked somewhere above the usual chaos of New York's West Side. There were faces she didn’t recognize—smiling, laughing, effortless in their beautyy—but she stayed at the edges, as usual, silent and still.

bambi still wasn’t used to this. She still wasn’t used to the velvet ropes or the high-fashion atmosphere. She still wasn’t used to being in the same room as celebrities, to feeling like the room itself might swallow her whole if she let it. But she told herself she was here to forget. Forget the week, forget the ache. Forget how much she wished the man from her last date hadn’t left her standing there, trying to understand why he’d chosen his “friend” over her.

It wasn’t like she’d ever voiced it. It wasn’t like she would have. But the feeling of being so easily discarded?

That sat heavy with her now, sharper than the yellowish neon lights that lit up the space.

Bambi took another sip of her drink—something bubbly that tasted like nothing—and everything at the same time. her eyes darted around, searching for something, anything, to distract her. That was when she saw him.

Tall. Blonde. Older..WAY older.

The kind of guy you’d expect to look like a magazine ad come to life. Drew was leaning against the bar, laughing, the low sound of it catching her off guard. His eyes were blue, the color of the summer sky on a good day. His shirt was perfectly undone at the collar, and his hair, tousled but somehow intentional, made him look even more unattainable. There was a small hoop earring in one ear, the kind of detail that shouldn’t matter but to her it did.

And standing next to drew was his friend.

Bambis chest tightened as she watched the girl, her fingers trembling around her glass. Her loose curly hair falling messily over her forehead. They were talking, laughing like it was the easiest thing in the world, while bambi was just... standing there.

it wasn’t new news to her—the friend. she had worked with drew for about a year, but only recently had she started seeing him in a different light. She wanted him, and she felt dumb to believe that he would too.

Her throat burned.

She didn’t even notice when Alexa and Taylor stepped closer, their protective stares following the line of her gaze. They were older, the kind of girlfriends who’d always had her back, always known when something was wrong, even when bambi didn’t say a word.

“What’s wrong?” Alexa’s voice was soft but sharp with concern. She’d known bambi long enough to read her like a damn book.

She couldn’t find the words. Instead, her gaze stayed locked on the her. the moment that replayed in her mind like a never-ending loop.

‎ 𐦍

The date had started out fine, better than fine even. The city had been alive with possibilities, the kind of night that had the potential to turn into something great. They’d met at that little Greek restaurant on Bleecker, and bambi had tried not to overthink it. They talked about the usual stuff: work, music, movies. Drew made her laugh with his laid back jokes, and she’d felt something, that spark. For once, she wasn’t pretending to be someone else.

But as the night wore on, something shifted. His phone kept buzzing—just a quick glance at the screen, but it was enough. There was a look in his eyes, the kind of shift you couldn’t ignore. And then he’d stood up abruptly.

“‘m sorry baby, I gotta go” he’d said, his voice apologetic but not sincere, “A friend’s in town and I promised I’d meet up with her, you don’t mind, do you?.”

She’d nodded, her stomach sinking even as she smiled. “of course not, go ahead,” she said, not wanting to seem needy, not wanting to seem like she was the one who “needed” anything.

But she hadn’t seen him since. Not a text. Not a call. Nothing.

The walk back to her townhome had been a blur. She didn’t remember much of the city streets, just the cold biting at her skin, “stupid mini dress” she thought. the steady rhythm of her kitten heels clicking against the pavement, and the silence that wrapped around her. It wasn’t until she reached her door that the tears came. Silent and sharp, like something breaking inside.

‎ 𐦍

Bambi blinked, the edges of her vision starting to blur as the tears she hadn’t been able to shed in front of him finally threatened to break free. Her breath caught in her throat. Alexa’s arm looped around her shoulders, the familiar weight of it grounding her.

“You okay?” Taylor asked, her voice a little softer than usual as she pushed back a singular lock behind her ear

bambi nodded, though she wasn’t sure why. She wasn’t okay. She wasn’t okay at all. She couldn’t shake the feeling that drew had left her behind, that she was just... another girl in a long line of them.

But Alexa and Taylor weren’t having any of it. They exchanged a look, their unspoken language clear. Taylor nodded toward the door. “We’re leaving,” she said, her voice soft, but laced with disgust. “We’re not sticking around for this—their bullshit.”

And with that, they all started moving toward the exit. No more distractions, no more pretending everything was fine. The cold air of the night hit her like a shock, but it was a welcome one. They didn’t even wait for an Uber—just flagged a cab, the city lights streaking past them like a blur as they made their way to a late-night burger joint in the Village.

Bambi didn’t say much in the car, but the warmth of Alexa’s hand on hers, the sound of Taylor making some off-hand joke about a studio ghibli movie, made the ache feel a little more manageable. When they finally got home, the apartment was quiet, safe, warm and cozy. The three of them settled onto the couch with their burgers, wrapped in blankets. The sound of “Sex and the City” played softly in the background, the familiar banter of Carrie and the girls filling the space around them.

It wasn’t perfect. Nothing ever was. But as bambi leaned back into the couch, her friends beside her, she realized that she didn’t need drew to fix her. Not when she had people who loved her exactly as she was. She wasn’t invisible. Not to them.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

© 𝐅𝐀𝐖𝐍𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[vivwritesfics]

Hi viv, had an idea for a lando fic, where his gf is kind of witchy, and she tries something new in miami and he wins, and then she falls ill for a race, and things just keep happening so she cant do her little rituals, and then it gets to zandvort and she can finally do it again?

I literally know nothing about witchy vibes so take everything i say with a pinch of salt i suppose

Candles were lit. She placed them in a circle and sat in the middle of them, eyes closed as she wished her boyfriend luck. The candles flickered, and she took that as an indication that the first step in her ritual was working.

Getting up, she left the candles burning and walked into her kitchen. She'd set everything up before she'd started with her little good luck rituals. Her herbs were ground up, ready to be burnt.

There was a lot of burning involved in her little rituals.

She burnt her herbs, muttering under her breath. It wasn't a spell, this was just her being superstitious. Normally she just muttered Lando win, Lando win, but, this time, she changed it up.

"Let's go Lando, Lando is okay," she whispered over her burning herbs. "Let's go Lando, he is here to stay."

She ran through the entire song as her herbs burnt. When she finished, she pulled the necklace from beneath her top and kissed the little 4 charm. And then she blew out the candles and settled in to watch the race.

Of course he would win while she wasn't there, while she was watching the race from their Monaco apartment. They'd spoken about what would happen when he won, spoken about how she'd try to climb the barriers to get to him. Recreated the moment using the back of the sofa.

It was all for shits and giggles, but she wanted it to be real, wanted to be there for his first win. But here she was, watching it from the other side of the world. It hurt, but she was so damn happy for him.

It didn't strike her that maybe her change in good luck ritual had worked for him. She went back to the old way of doing it, muttering Lando win, Lando win again and again.

But she didn't get another Lando win. He was doing well, but he hadn't had another win yet.

She got sick before the summer break. Hiding away in the Monaco apartment, under copious blankets, still shivering. She was doped up on so many painkillers. Headache relief and such.

She had the race on, watching Spa as she laid on the sofa. But she was in and out of it, eyes falling shut until she heard Crofty make a particular shout. Her eyes flew open and she frowned as she tried to work out what was going on.

She couldn't stay up for the race, fell asleep with it playing in the background.

She got better for summer break, had the best time with her boyfriend (who had a slutty man summer, she was enjoying every moment of that).

Zandvoort. She was so excited for it, so excited to be well enough for the race, to be attending. The night before the quali, she was out at the store, buying all of the candles she could find. She rushed back to the apartment they were staying in and burst in.

She laid the candles out in a circle and sat herself between them, letting them burn as she stared at her boyfriend. It got him pole.

Lando didn't believe in all that witchy stuff. She knew that, knew he didn't believe in the things she was doing. But she still did it, and this time, she got him pole (well, they both knew he got pole because he was a brilliant driver).

Lando kissed her once he had jumped out of the car and done his interviews and everything. She wrapped her arms around him and Lando held her cheeks as she kissed him. "I love you," he whispered against her lips. "Witchy little fuck."

Her ritual went back to the same one she did before Miami. Lando watched in the apartment they were renting for the week as she lit her candles, burnt her herbs, muttered Let's Go Lando under her breath, and kissed her 4 charm.

She held the charm all through the race, heart beating so erratically. But he did it. He won the Dutch Grand Prix. In part because of her witchy rituals.

[sozila]

convalescence. (sukuna x reader)

synopsis: convalescence noun. time spent recovering from an illness or medical treatment; recuperation. ryomen s. itadori was a disease that infected every part of your life, and you didn’t notice until it was too late.

pairing: best friend's older brother!ryomen s. itadori x pre-med uni student!fem reader.

warnings: explicit content eventually, mdni.

wc: 9.3k

masterlist | previous | next

you are on: prodromal. (part four)

a/n:

hiii lovelies <3 i wanna start out with an apology because this was much, much later than i wanted to post :( i am so sorry! i really appreciate all the love and can't wait to reply all the comments on ao3 and tumblr :,) you guys are amazing and keep my passion for writing going. anyways, word count is 9.3k !!! record highs breaking every chapter haha <3 i hope you all find this enjoyable after a long dry spell :) and as always, credit to my beta reader @beeh-ive ily bih

ao3 link here.

prodromal. (part four)

sukuna had discovered three key truths when he drove back home after yuuji kicked him out of his apartment. 

yuuji was right about sukuna. it was annoying to admit that his baby brother was right about anything, let alone something so fundamental to his character. it was easier to bark out orders and shelter him from the world. to not hear him be a mature person with complicated thoughts and his own perceptions— especially the ones about sukuna. deep down he knew he couldn’t keep yuuji unaware forever. he couldn’t deny that the events of their childhood scattered his soul, which he has since collected and duct taped together over the years. he knew he was a shitty person. better than anyone else. in the late hours of night he was kept up by the memories of their childhood, ones he couldn't burden yuuji or guilt their grandfather with. it was his to keep and bury within that duct taped soul. he had made peace with it, he thought.

he could respect yuuji’s wishes (withholding some information). messing with you was just an excuse to spend more time in your presence. if that wasn’t possible, he’d find ways around it. a small voice deep down was adamant to say attached to you, everyone be damned. 

he had seen you that day walk into the coffee shop in that gorgeous outfit, skirt swishing with every move of your hips, completely captivating him. moreover, he witnessed how you spoke with suguru and it made something tick inside. he’s never gotten jealous of his best friends, not until this very moment. who was he, that you smiled so big for him? hold on, why the fuck was suguru touching your hair? 

he pulled out a cigarette from his back pocket and lit it aggressively, smoke engulfing the sight before him. suguru was a friendly guy, he was often surrounded with women due to this fact. sukuna was well aware of it; and honestly didn’t care until he was witnessing before his eyes you becoming a part of that equation. 

friend or not, he wanted to barge in there and yank you away from his selfish, dirty and unwelcome hands. motherfucker. 

while his angry thoughts were steaming, sukuna didn’t realize suguru had left and was already making his way towards him at the bricks. sukuna’s eyes focused back and found the man towering over him, a question mark painted on his face. “thinking about something?”

sukuna flicked the ash gathering on his cigarette off of it and inhaled another puff. an exhale. “i’m gonna get a drink really quick.” he couldn’t look at suguru’s face without the urge to pound him into the ground, the scene of his fingers touching your hair on loop again and again in his mind. so, he pushes off the wall, crushing his cigarette with his boot, and makes his own way into the tacky coffee shop. he hated the sugary nature of the place, it was so suffocating. satoru loved coming around to buy sweets, but sukuna never let the man sit and stay at a table if he was dragged into accompanying the white-haired idiot. the girl at the register looked mildly nervous when he stalked inside, which was a common reaction he got given his tattoos and looming figure. sukuna’s eyes drifted to the display of pastries and bread, scanning. he recalled you eating chocolates during your study hangouts with yuuji, the goddamn wrappers always littered on the table. he decided the little chocolate pillow-looking thing (he refused to pronounce whatever the fuck a pain au chocolat is) would suffice, his eyes flitting to the sight of you getting verbally abused by your loud friend. “um.. what can i get you, sir?” the small voice of the attendant brought him back to the front. he nodded, pulling out his wallet. “that chocolate square shit.” she hummed in acknowledgement, and began getting the tong to pack it away. sukuna stopped her. “er.. actually, i’m buying this for someone. you see that girl over there? with the green ribbons?” she looked at him with wide eyes, then found you. she nodded slowly. “that’s my girl. give it to her for me?” “o-oh! how sweet.. will do, sir! anything else for you, then?” he shakes his head. sukuna leaves, paying for your little treat. and now, he waits. suguru looked at sukuna and noticed his empty hands, even more confused than before.

“didn’t you say you were getting a drink?” 

“changed my fuckin’ mind.” 

he pulled another cigarette out to light and his friend sucked his teeth in response. “you really need to find another vice. nicotine is total shit, man. ‘s why i started weed instead, y’know–” 

“suguru, please shut the fuck up.” 

suguru’s mouth pops in mild shock, but he obliges. he knew well it wasn’t worth picking a fight with sukuna when his mood was sour, he learned that by watching satoru try sukuna’s patience on the daily. his eyes trail your figure making your way to the register and the scene unfolds exactly like he asked. he chuckled as you started looking around exasperatedly, finally meeting his eyes. he gave you a little wave. you ignore him, the treatment he’s been getting for a while now. in due time, sukuna thought. in due time he would chip at your resolve, little by little, until your walls completely broke down. discreetly and respectfully, of course.

because above all, yuuji didn’t have to know about his attempts. sukuna didn’t intend to lie, per say.. he just decided he could have his cake and eat it too. said cake being you.

and so this brings us to the final and most universal truth:

3. he needed you in the rawest form possible. the realization was natural. when you had asked him that night upstairs, he was caught up in words because he didn’t want to end up saying the wrong thing– it was delicate. but he needed you. sukuna didn’t know how to describe why in words either.. he was studying engineering, you think he was killing it in english literature?  he just knew the feeling you gave him, the one that ignited a fire in his chest and a desire to orbit your sun. he had decided he wasn’t going to let you put him on the sidelines anymore; developing the fake half-way point to pursuing you in silence.

your internship was much more simple than you expected. while your interest in professor kaito’s research was high and got your foot in the door, the actual work was rather lackluster. you spent maybe three hours at your desk organizing files and sending simple emails, but other than that? you were just passing time. 

you had met her other student assistants a couple days into it, also in your graduation year. a mild mannered blonde man named kento and his super-positive friend, haibara. you thought kento outright hated you in the beginning, but quickly understood he was just another overworked college student. poor guy.

it really helped having something to take your mind off of sukuna’s futile attempts at catching your attention that had begun a month ago.

oh, how he was irking you. 

the bakery freebie was the first of many unnecessary gestures sukuna had done. he had made it a habit to buy you food and have it reach you in the weirdest ways. just last week, he had hit a new low by having a doordash guy somehow get you energy drinks and candies in the middle of a lecture. a note was attached that read, ‘don’t fall asleep, pretty. -s’. you were embarrassed, but thankfully the professor didn’t notice. you also took it up to apologize profusely to the doordash guy for having to fulfill such a weird request— you had handed him a crumpled up five dollar bill from your backpack because you felt so bad. your lunch got paid for randomly, your backpack had tiny presents waiting for you when you opened it, the list was endless. you were not only irritated but also mildly spooked that sukuna was able to evade your presence and manage these stunts simultaneously. he was like a romantic batman. ew, what? no. that doesn’t even make sense.

you were walking up to your apartment door late one night to see a deep red bag with black tulle stuffed into it sitting in front of it. you knew there was nobody else that would leave a gift like this in front of your door, and so you begrudgingly took it inside. it was rather heavy, which made you curious as to what exactly sukuna got you this time. 

as you put it on your tiny kitchen table, pulling tulle away from the bag, you spot the gold-embossed box. it was a really expensive brand you had heard of but never dared to think about buying from. you could hear your parents’ voices echoing in your head about being fiscally responsible, eliciting a shiver. carefully breaking the seal, you lift the lid to see the most gorgeous pair of maroon high-heeled mary janes. and once more, a note stuck to the tissue wrappings:

 ‘for my red ruby girl. -s’

your first emotion couldn’t be anger when the gift was so thoughtful like this. you giddily squeal and try them on— a perfect fit. but how? sukuna never asked for your size.. and you doubt yuuji would tell him without ruining the surprise for you. he’s so weird for that, you thought. 

you walk to your floor length mirror in your bedroom and stare at the shoes, thinking. 

he pays attention to what you like.

this was a stupid realization; he’d been getting you snacks and miscellaneous tidbits that were undoubtedly your favorites for a while. but it hits you nonetheless, your cheeks’ blush growing. you slowly sit on the ground, knees to your chest. what the fuck. you dig your fingers into the shaggy carpet, pressing down hard. you were hoping the hurty-happy ache in your fingers would go away, the one you get when you feel deeply emotional. the attempts he had made were like little vines growing over your heart, ones you had ignored for far too long and now they squeeze you tightly as if to say, “i’m literally never fucking leaving bitch!” 

you jolt when your doorbell rings. a melodic knock follows. “open up, buttercup! i’m hereeeee,” nobara voice was muffled by the door but recognizable enough. you leap to your feet, nearly tripping on your way to throwing the door open. 

nobara takes one suspicious look at your shabbily-hidden nervousness and calls your bluff. “were you watching R-rated shit? because if so i can totally leave, no problem.” your voice squeaks in an ungodly high pitch, spluttering gibberish before you manage an “oh my god no, what the fuck!” she cackles at your reaction and slaps a hand on your shoulder, moving to enter the flat. “you’re so easy to mess with babe, i worry for you at times! really. i do.” 

her eyes catch the shiny box that lay open on the table. “is that xtique? they’re mad expensive, girl! you actually bought something from there?” “no!” you quickly burst, making nobara jump at the sudden denial. “i mean, no, it was a gift from my… father! for the internship.” you point to your feet and she gives an impressed hum. “they’re super sexy-looking. your dad has good taste.. weirdly enough.” you didn’t really know what to say to that without it seeming weird or ruining your last-minute lie, so you just chuckle and nod. 

you like chocolate, especially when it’s melty or gooey in something. you hate tomatoes. which is odd, because you’re okay with ketchup and marinara sauce, but anything with a tomato that the eye can see you don’t touch. you drink a lot of coffee after lectures. you love little cute trinkets, but don’t have that many. 

sukuna was learning about you; and applying the information as soon as he did. granted, you looked positively enraged every time you saw his notes. he also saw your face turn red, so he has to be doing something right. the way your lips quirk for a moment before the eventual frown and looking around for him was pretty adorable. whatever it was, sukuna’s plan was in motion and working as he wanted. the lengths he went for you were unheard of for the usual suitor, but sukuna was a crafty guy (when he wants to be). he tipped off the doordash guy that snuck into your lecture hall an extra twenty dollars in cash to be quiet and unnoticed by the professor. he somehow made friends with the girl at the coffee shop— said her name was christy? kristen? fuck if he knew, to be honest. he really just kept familiar with her so he could have her deliver pastries and coffee from him.  

“this bast– RYOMEN! the fuckin’ oil!” sukuna snaps out of his train of thought to see he was still at work, not in his daydreams. he never got into his thoughts like this, what…? whatever. it was about you, so he didn’t feel as bad. he cursed when he saw the oil pan was slightly away from under the plug, letting the oil spill all over the deck. “i swear to god ryo, you better clean that shit up before you clock out,” choso chided. his cousin-slash-coworker genuinely never caught a break with sukuna and his antics. one of the downsides of working at the shop the family owned, he assumed. but truly, choso was getting gray hairs from the amount of stress that man gave him. sukuna simply waved him off, discarding his rag that was now soaked in old oil. checking his watch, he realized he is close to his clock out time. in five minutes, he messily cleaned up the deck and made his exit, clicking his helmet on and driving out. at a stoplight, sukuna hears some giggling from the car next to him. he pans to see four girls with their windows down, now squealing because sukuna noticed them. one had her phone up, recording him? while another gestures as if asking for his phone number. sukuna scoffs out of irritation. really? he throws up his left hand which was gloved and gestures to his ring finger. they go silent and roll up their windows, embarrassed. a little lie to get them off his case was harmless, he didn’t care either way. technically, it was true he was “promised” to someone, that being you. eventually, he declares in his head. eventually. his head swivels to look at the buildings beside him instead of the cars while he waits for the light to flip. his eyes catch on shiny, ruby shoes in a display of a boutique-looking store. they looked awfully like the ones he saw at your apartment, and at the door the times you stayed over at yuuji’s. sukuna decides to detour and turns into the parking lot for the fancy shop. 

when he walks in he notes it’s rather small, his large frame mildly cramping the area. it was silent and empty, save for the soft jazz playing overhead. a small but peppy old woman bustles out of the back, heels clacking. she was wearing a fancy two piece suit in some kind of purple(it’s periwinkle, but would sukuna really know that?) 

she was about to greet him out of habit when a small “good heavens!” leaves her mouth, in sight of her new customer. she apologizes profusely for the sudden reaction while chuckling nervously. “you’re not our usual patron, you’ll have to forgive me for my outburst dearie!” she runs a manicured hand through her blowout hair, giving a warm smile to him. 

sukuna becomes a bit hyper-aware he was in an oil-stained wife pleaser and slacks, and his usual leather jacket. right. he just grunts and nods, looking around the store. pastel pink and gold adornments littered the walls, the smell of roses infiltrating his nose. all it was missing was you sitting in the middle of it all, honestly. this place was unironically your persona. 

he turns to the display, thumb pointed to the shoes he saw. “you got those in stock?” the lady perks up and immediately gets to work, buzzing around the store to grab boxes. “why of course! is this for a mother, sister? girlfriend, maybe?” sukuna simply nods. “girlfriend.” she giggles melodically, opening and closing boxes. “how sweet of you! she must be one special girl,” sukuna imagines you opening the box and wearing the shoes, your giddy excitement in private. he smiles faintly at the thought. “very.”

she finally finds the set of ruby shoes, and asks him for your size. he replies nearly instantly. he had seen your shoes so many times, the size was always written on the sole. so maybe he had it memorized, no big deal. numbers came easy to him anyways, he dealt with many of them in his studies and job. and maybe he had a section in his notes app for you. 

the old lady quickly wrapped up the shoes and stuffed black paper in the bag to hide the box. sukuna quickly pays, giving her a deep grumble of a thank you. she just smiles and waves him off. “i hope your girlfriend loves them!” as he leaves the shop she sighs with a bittersweet expression on her lips. she misses young love. 

as sukuna leaves the shiny boutique, he looks at the bag in his hand. was he doing too much? he hopes you would like it, and as far as he knows, you don’t own a pair of these in the red he picked. maybe it was selfish thinking that you would enjoy that same red hue you saw in his eyes, especially after that comment that lived in his subconscious. 

your eyes are sanguine red.

he grins to himself, walking a little faster to his bike.

nobara had stayed around for a couple of hours before she called it a night, saying something about how stupid she has to study for her exams when she’s a liberal arts student. you just chuckle and turn her loose. “you’re always welcome to ask me for help," you chide her. she scoffs and pushes you playfully. “no way. you’re like up to your ears in stuff, i couldn’t burden you. and anyways, you’re already helping yuuji and his two brain cells.” she waves you goodbye, and you head back up to your apartment once you see her get into her uber. 

you’re about to flop on your tiny couch when your phone rings. you groan internally when you see the caller id. 

“hello, father.” 

“you need to come home this weekend.” 

you frown. “i’m sorry?” 

“did you not hear me? you need to come home this weekend and help your brother with his entrance exams.” 

you’re in mild shock for a moment, making you go silent. surely he doesn’t think you have time to spend an entire weekend at home. you had so many things to juggle as it was, and your weekend was kind of your safe time. if something bled over from the week, you’d do it then, or hell, sometimes you just wanted to sit and watch a show or two. 

“..father, i’m not exactly free—“ 

“you’re lying. i know how many credit hours you’re doing and that internship of yours is the only extra activity in your time. seriously, when will you grow up? you have so many more duties to fulfill and you’re trying to get out of the simplest one.” 

you had such a difficult time reasoning with your father and it’s been this way since your childhood. he never saw what you wanted or what you accomplished. it was always “how can she benefit the family?” you let out a deep sigh. there was no getting out of this, you accept. 

“i’m sorry, father. i’ll be home on the weekend.” 

“good. your mother keeps asking about your health so don’t eat any rubbish.” 

you make a noise of agreement, but mentally you’re rearranging your tasks for the upcoming week to allocate time for the impromptu trip. he hangs up the phone without a goodbye, as usual. the dread you felt for the first eighteen years of your life settles back into your chest like an unwelcome old friend. you sink to the couch, rubbing your chest to ease the pain. you’re looking at the setting sun seeping in from the window, the light disappearing feeling awfully similar to your emotions right now.

it’ll be just another thing you’ll brave through, you suppose.

kento is washing beakers in the back of the lab room, but you know you felt his eyes on the back of your head. “yes, kento?” you say without turning around. he clears his throat to cover up the cough he let out of surprise. he did not think you would’ve noticed. “you just seem a little downtrodden today, is all.” you let out a sad laugh and walk over to help him dry the beakers. “well, you aren’t wrong, i guess,” you say absentmindedly. you woke up today with the same dread you felt earlier this week, which you had felt every day since the call until today— friday. the gloomy, rainy day didn’t help your mood either. 

“anything i can do to help, maybe?” you smile at your monotonous friend. you learned he was quite caring, but had a hard time mirroring it in his tone of voice. “actually, yeah. do you think you could cover the last hour for me? i’m going home for the weekend.” he nods, putting the last clean beaker in the crate. “no worries. i hope you enjoy your time at home.” you draw a heavy sigh. “i’ll try,” you manage with a deflected grin. 

you wave kento goodbye when you’re walking out the door of the lab, heaving your bags along with you. the rain hadn’t stopped by the time you were walking to your car, so you had to run to avoid drenching everything you had and yourself. 

the drive home was mostly silent, save for your playlist playing softly in the background of the car. the rain slows to a stop when you turn into your neighborhood, which makes you slightly annoyed. couldn’t it have stopped for you when you were getting a cold shower on the way to the car? once you pull up to your apartment complex, you notice something that immediately draws a groan from your lips. 

before you is a sleek black bike, and leaning on it was none other than the object of your irritation. his helmet sat on his seat and his pink hair was moussed by the rain, making it a more deep pink shade. his stupid grin churned your insides. turning the key off in the ignition, you step out of your car, walking towards him. 

you notice his fingers drumming on his seat. he seemed happy to see you? “forgot your umbrella?” he gestures to your head, and your face goes red. your hair was a little out of the ordinary after running through the rain. “shut the fuck up.” you quip dismissively, comb your fingers through your hair to try and fix it– but the moisture had already had its way with you. you give up with a huff. 

your eyes narrow at him. “are you stalking me?” you roll your eyes and cross your arms, clearly not in the mood to deal with sukuna’s games today. he protests with his hands up. “i’m no fuckin’ stalker, sweetheart. just came to drop off your jacket. yuuji said you left it at his place the other day.” you don’t remember leaving anything at yuuji’s, but lo and behold, sukuna takes a jacket out of his seat compartment that looks awfully like one of yours. you stiffly accept it and look away. 

“you free tonight?” your head snaps to meet his eyes and that stupid smirk shone back at you. you turn away to walk back to your car. “nope. sorry! i’m leaving right now,” you swiftly call back to him over your shoulder. because of your height difference, he catches up to you in three strides. 

he grabs your wrist, halting you before you reach the driver’s door handle. “hey, what’s the rush? you literally got back home,” he was right. you did have things to get from your apartment, but you were more annoyed with his ambush that you simply wanted to drive home to get away. 

“can’t you see i’m busy?” sukuna gives you a furrowed expression. “with what?” his gruff tonality replaces the playful one he had before.

you were literally at your breaking point, couldn’t he bother you another day? you yank your hand away from his grip. you give him an icy glare, unwilling to answer him. he takes your pause to maneuver around you and stand in front of the door, blocking you from entering the car. his sharp eyes zeroed in on the tension you’re trying so hard to hide. 

“what’s your problem?” he asks sternly, his voice pressing against you. you clench your jaw, refusing to speak up. you hope he’ll just let it go. 

but he doesn’t. 

he’s still watching you, studying the ticks of your expression, searching. 

“come on,” he pushes, his voice quieter but unrelenting. “what’s really going on with you?” 

why the fuck was sukuna always around you when you were doing horrible? it was so damn irritating. you take a breath, more shaky than you wanted to show him. 

he didn’t miss it. 

you’re fighting back the anxiety and frustration that’s about to spill tears. 

“i’m.. it’s nothing, i just need to go home,” your stomach is turning knots. you hate the face he’s giving you. it’s digging at you, and sukuna isn’t one to back away from confrontation. 

his gaze sharpens, his eyes flickering with something you can’t read. “you mean your family home? like with your dad?” 

he only heard one phone call with your father, for fuck’s sake. you almost felt angry he thought he knew exactly what was going on. your heartbeat was in your ears at this point. “what’s so urgent that you’re fuckin’ running away all stressed?” 

your fists tighten at your sides, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you. you felt like the muddy asphalt was swallowing you. you didn’t realize you were crying until a tear slid down your cheek. the words followed behind like a tsunami. 

“you think i want to go home?! i get told something and he just expects me to do it with no questions! i don’t even.. i don’t even have time to do this, but he—”

your voice gets caught in a muffle. sukuna had wrapped you in his leather-clad arms, your face smushed in his chest. he smelled like smoke and gasoline, which was weirdly comforting. 

“just.. cry it out.” he mutters. 

his hand is stroking your hair softly, like you were a small child to be consoled. you didn’t care to protest his sudden actions. your fists grip his tank top as you sobbed into him. you don’t know how long you both stood like this, but you could’ve sworn at one point that he was shushing you like a baby, which was again— weirdly comforting. 

when you tilt your head up, eyes red and puffy, sukuna slips a chuckle. you slap his chest, offended. 

“your first reaction is to laugh at my misery, asshole?” 

“your eyes are swollen, sweetheart.” 

you curse and press the cold backside of your hands under your eyes, hoping to reduce the inflammation. you’re both in silence for a couple of moments, him just watching you while you pretended to not notice the holes he was burning into your head. 

he finally spoke up with a hand tapping your cheek. “c’mon, let’s go somewhere.” 

you give him a gaping shocked face. ‘i’m sorry, did you not just see me have a breakdown about needing to go home?” 

he rolls his eyes as if you were acting immature. god, now you know how yuuji must’ve felt growing up. sukuna was definitely as sassy as he was now. “that’s exactly why i’m saying that, idiot. you can go home first thing tomorrow morning.” 

you open your mouth to argue again, but the looming dread you had of facing your father tonight still makes your stomach sink. a night to take your mind off of the stress you’ve been bottling for days.. yeah, that sounds like exactly what you need. you hesitate, glancing up at sukuna’s face, searching for any hint of pity, but all you see is that stubborn determination he had. 

“fine,” you murmur, wiping your hands on your jeans. “but if this is some dumb excuse to make me do whatever you want…” he gives you a sly smirk, visibly amused again. “when have i ever needed an excuse for that?” you smack him again while he walks you over to his bike. 

he grabs the helmet from his bike and hands it to you, nudging you with his shoulder. “just one night, sweetheart. then you can go back and deal with… everything else.” 

you take the helmet and sigh, feeling the dread slowly lift from your chest as you click it on your head. after he climbs on the bike, he stretches a hand out to help you on which you take gratefully. he glances back at you with a soft smile you hadn’t seen since that night you bandaged his hands. 

he feels like a lifeline right now, albeit you didn’t want to admit that. you just needed an escape. 

you nearly scream when sukuna pulls into the “small spot” he said he knew. 

it was a traditional kaiseki house, one that screamed rich and elite. you were wearing casual clothes and your makeup had pretty much melted away after your cry session (you noticed that your mascara had also bled onto sukuna’s white tank top, so you scolded him until he zipped up his leather jacket with a grumble.) 

“you should’ve fucking told me we were going to a nice place, i could’ve gotten ready or something!” sukuna looked practically oblivious. “why?” he deadpans. you fight the urge to facepalm yourself and settle for an eye twitch. “sukuna, look at me.” you gesture to your face and clothes. he’s seriously aloof, giving you a monotone stare. “yeah, i’m looking. you look pretty, why?” oh. there’s nothing you can find to say to that because you genuinely didn’t see an ounce of deceit in his expression. he genuinely believed in what he said, it seems. you process the fact he called you pretty once you’re off the bike, which makes you a little bashful.

regardless, you tried to prim yourself before you stepped inside; praying no one paid attention to you and your unlikely date. that was obviously wishful thinking considering how big of a powerhouse sukuna looked inside the small joint, which made you curse him out mentally. does he eat entire horses? however, the server looked at sukuna with respect you didn’t expect, and sukuna talked to him with ease. you couldn’t believe the sight before your eyes; he was acting like a socialite with insanely proper manners. 

the server led you both to a private dining room, bowing as he closed the door behind you. you unbuckle the ruby shoes you were wearing, ironically the shoes sukuna had gifted you the week before. you hope he didn’t notice. 

sukuna takes the seat opposite you, sitting rather poised and formal. you giggle at him, breaking the royal silence you were in. he frowns at you, miffed.

“what?” 

“you’re like, trust fund boy sukuna right now. you look so serious i thought it was funny,” you explain. 

he grumbles and crosses his arms. “my grandfather… is big on etiquette.” he manages. 

you expect him to iterate further. “…aaaand?” you had sat down, resting your head on your hands, batting your lashes mockingly. 

his frown deepens at your antics. “grandpa owns a lot of businesses, so when me and yuu were young... he made us come to formal dinners. parties and shit. if we acted like fuckin’ animals, we’d get our asses beat.” you giggle at the thought of little sukuna causing a ruckus. 

“i bet you were a handful.” you tease. 

“more like yuu was. unmedicated adhd in a boy is hell.” you agree with a nod. you felt kind of warm inside knowing something new about sukuna. yuuji had told you in the past that they were well-endowed, but these details were cute and… endearing to you. 

“you like them?” you snap out of your thoughts to see sukuna gesturing to your gifted shoes, sitting by the door next to his boots. a small blush dusts your cheeks. “it’s just a fluke… i was rushing this morning and they were the first pair i saw,” your excuse was perpetually lame. 

he nods slowly, amused. “…right, of course.” he lays sarcastically. 

you were about to say something else awkward when the door slid open, bringing the first course along with a round of sake. you both say your respects to the food before digging in politely. the food definitely tasted as expensive as it looked. 

you realize you’ve actually never had a meal with sukuna before. you take note of how proper he eats, which was kind of a surprise for you (again). you guess you could believe him now when he said yuu was worse off than him— that boy definitely ate like a man starved. 

when you finish your last piece, you take a sip of the sake the server had poured out for you. it was much smoother and sweeter than the ones you’ve had. honestly, a little worrying considering how much of a lightweight you were. you decide that’s a dangerous game and settle with nursing the small glass you had. 

“how’s college been, then?” this fucking… you didn’t expect sukuna to do small talk, but here you were. “um, it’s good. a little tedious lately, but i guess i can’t complain,” you chuckle softly. “that kid kento’s in your internship, yeah?” the way he just knew random things adjacent to you was a little scary. “yeah, how do you know that?” “he’s a family friend.” thank god. you were beginning to think sukuna had a private investigator on you or something. “o-oh, how interesting. so you’ve known him for a while?” “his father has been partners with my grandpa since we were young, so yeah.” you simply nod in acknowledgment, unsure of how to continue. this was awkward territory to speak so casually and non-hostile with the man before you.  

“you look like you’re being tortured to speak to me right now.”

you snap to sit more straight and less avoidant, feeling embarrassed he clocked your temperament. “sorry, i’ve not exactly had any real conversations with you,” he looks unphased. “you’re too busy trying to fight me for that.” you give him a frown. “well you’re not exactly a ray of sunshine yourself, asshole.” he simply chuckles and takes another sip of sake. he manages to look elegant despite the fact he’s dressed like a thug. “you’re easy to rile up, sweetheart.” 

you look at him incredulously. “you’ve got to be a sadist or something,” you exclaim with a small scoff. he hums. “not the word i’d use, but if it’s easier for you… sure, i’m a sadist for you.” “for me?” “i don’t mess with anyone else, if you’ve noticed.” you’re mildly confused, given that you know his track record, but you digress. you give him an unimpressed look. 

“…right.” 

he gives you a look back. “fuck you mean by that?” 

“oh c’mon, just because i met you recently doesn’t mean i didn’t know of you before that.” 

his weird look deepens. “oh? and what did you know of me, sweetheart?” he’s absolutely egging you on, but not in a way that’s teasing. he truly wants to understand what preconceived notions you have of him, almost like it was making him upset. 

“i mean… you’re a frat boy, sukuna. you get girls. you party. that earns a reputation, at minimum.” 

he looked a little hurt by your words, but he doesn’t let it stay long enough for you to notice. “tell me this, sweetheart. are you an introvert that only studies all day?” you stiffen. “…no, i’m not an introvert. and i like doing other things too,” “you liked it when i passed judgment on you being nothing but a booksmart nerd the first day i met you?” you shake your head slowly. “then you’re beating your fuckin’ stereotype. just like how i’m not the fuckin’ stereotype others say about me. understood?” 

you start to feel bad that you threw the same callous mindset he’s probably faced before, which was super out of character for you. you were an open minded and intuitive person. “i’m sorry, sukuna. i guess i’m just… having trouble understanding some things.” 

he raises an eyebrow. “like what?” 

“…well,” you take a sip of your sake to give yourself time to recollect. “i guess i want to know why you’ve been gifting me so much these last few weeks.” 

he visibly lightens up, slipping back into his playful demeanor. he purposefully takes a comically long sip of sake, causing you to laugh and smack him across the table, chiding him. “oh my god, stop! you suck, really,” 

he glances at you from the side of his eyes. “i just wanted to.” 

you look into his eyes, searching his gaze. a small smirk plays on your lips. a jolt of confidence hits you as you lean over the table on your elbows. “you got a crush on me, itadori?” 

he matches your energy tenfold, leaning towards you in tandem. you’re almost nose to nose. “inconclusive, sweetheart.”  

you sit back down with a small blush. “you’re not getting compensated for them, by the way.” 

he snorts, a deep chuckle following. “i never expected you to. they’re gifts, sweetheart. and i sure as hell know that little internship of yours pays in pennies.” 

you give him a withering look of irritation. “i get paid in experience, sukuna.” “that’s straight bullshit they tell you, you know that? you realize i graduate this year? already seen the way internships pan out,” true. “potayto potahto, dude.” 

his brows upturn out of amusement. you opt to change the subject from you. 

“you’re a mechanical engineering major, right?” you ask, tilting your head curiously. he just nods, his face giving nothing away. “how’s that, then? fun?”

he fixes you with a dry, almost exasperated stare. his eyes narrow slightly, eyebrows upturned just enough to convey that he’s calling your bluff. “is that a real question,” he drawls, “or are you seriously asking me about my major?”

you clench your jaw, resisting the urge to sock him in the shoulder. instead, you force yourself to keep smiling. “you nearly made me want to explode with your small talk, so just answer the damn question.”

a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, and he snorts. “if i told you i find this fun, there’s probably somethin’ wrong with me.”

you roll your eyes and mutter under your breath, “there’s definitely a lot wrong with you, but whatever.”

he raises a brow, leaning in just a bit too close for comfort. “hm? say that louder for me, sweetheart?”

you feel heat rise to your cheeks as your lips slip into an involuntary pout. you hate how you can’t control your expressions around him—it’s like your face has a mind of its own. you avert your gaze and take a long sip of your drink, feigning nonchalance. “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, the sake warming you from the inside out as you mimicked his usual unbothered attitude.

without warning, he stretches out his hand and flicks you on the forehead, a light but annoyingly precise tap. “idiot.” he mutters, sounding amused.

you groan, rubbing the spot where he flicked you. “when will you stop calling me that?” you whine, exasperated.

his laugh is low and unapologetic and his eyes twinkling with something irritatingly fond. “when you stop doin’ stupid shit. cute, stupid shit.”

somehow that pulls a genuine laugh out of you. you catch yourself mid-giggle, feeling suddenly self-conscious as sukuna’s gaze softens, just barely, his lips twitching into a smile. he’s watching you with this odd.. elated expression, like he’s seeing something new in you. you quickly clear your throat and try to regain composure, but the grin on your face lingers.

“what?” you ask, embarrassed, still smiling despite yourself.

he shakes his head, almost imperceptibly, but the faint trace of a smile remains. “nothing. just didn’t think i’d ever hear you laugh like that.”

a warm blush creeps up your neck, and you look down, fidgeting with the chopsticks. “i do laugh, you know,” you murmur, trying to act casual.

for a moment, he just looks at you, his gaze unguarded in a way that makes your heart skip. the silence stretches between you, not tense but charged, like something’s shifting that neither of you can quite name. he tilts his head slightly, studying your face as though he’s trying to memorize every detail. 

the rest of your meal with him was filled with this unspoken, almost serene connection that neither of you quite acknowledged, but both felt. the conversation felt more natural and genuine, you couldn’t stop talking it seemed. you found yourself stealing glances at him more often than you meant to, feeling a strange warmth in your chest each time your eyes met. there was an ease to the way you sat together, as if the world outside had faded away, leaving only the two of you in this strange little bubble.

not before long, you both had finished your food with much satisfaction. This is definitely one of the best meals you’ve ever had. when the bill comes, you half expect sukuna to pull out a credit card but instead, he glances at the check just a moment before he pays with a bundle of crisp bills from his wallet. god, that was unnecessarily hot.

"let’s go," he says, standing up. he waits for you to put on your shoes before offering his hand as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

you take it, the touch warm and solid. he’s particular about the way he holds your hand– not too tight, not too soft. that makes your heart skip a beat. not to mention your hand is small in comparison to his, but a weirdly perfect match. like a peg sliding into a notch. 

as you walk out of the restaurant, you feel the cool night air hit you, a refreshing contrast to the warmth inside. sukuna’s hand still holds yours, his thumb lightly grazing your knuckles as you both make your way to the street.

that’s when you spot it—an unassuming little ice cream stand on the corner, the twinkling of the fairy lights on its canopy making you grin up at him.

you tug on his hand, pulling him toward the stand before he can even say anything. "ice cream." you say with a mischievous smile, not even giving him a chance to protest. "you are legally not allowed to say no."

sukuna gives you a feigned look of annoyance at you but doesn’t pull away. “you’re insatiable,” he tells you, but there’s no real irritation in his tone—just the faintest hint of beguilement. you don’t miss the way his grip on your hand tightens, just a little, when you pull him toward the stand.

the vendor behind the counter greets you both with a toothy smile, and you instantly scan the flavors, your eyes lighting up as you point to one that catches your attention. "i’ll have the matcha," you say, already thinking about how good it’s going to taste.

sukuna gives you a side glance before ordering the most basic thing he could’ve chosen—vanilla. you can’t help but notice the contrast between his choice and yours, and it makes you giggle.

“you and giggling today, i swear,” he teases. you take the cone from the vendor’s hand with a small thank-you, sticking your tongue out at sukuna before giving your cone a lick. sukuna takes his cone shortly after, paying the man. 

walking together, hand in hand, the quiet sounds of the city hum around you. it’s almost too perfect, the way he towers beside you, both of you savoring your cones. despite the fall night being cool, soon your ice cream starts to drip and melt faster than you can eat it. you try to keep up but it’s a losing battle as your hands get sticky and little droplets threaten to trail down your fingers.

out of the corner of your eye, you catch sukuna stifling a snort, his shoulders shaking slightly as he reaches into his back pocket to pull out a crumpled handful of napkins. he must have grabbed them at the stand, almost as if he anticipated this exact moment.

“somehow i knew you’d end up eating like a messy kid,” he teases, his voice tinged more tender than you’re used to. before you can reply, he steps closer, raising the napkin to your face with a gentle hand, his fingers brushing your cheek as he dabs at the melting ice cream on your lips and chin. his touch is careful and surprisingly soft, as if he’s handling something delicate.

“thank you,” you murmur, the words almost a whisper as you meet his eyes. they’re closer than you expected, and you catch your breath as he holds your gaze, just a fraction too long. you look away, the heat of his hand lingering on your cheek, and take another bite of your cone, trying to steady the flutter in your chest.

when you finish, you make your way back toward his motorcycle parked beneath a flickering streetlight. its chrome metal was gleaming in the muted glow. you lean against the seat as he stands in front of you, hand on the seat space beside where you were situated. this definitely feels like a date now, you thought. 

his presence was grounding you in a way that felt both comforting and thrilling. he eats the last bite of his cone before wiping his own hands clean, then tossing the dirty napkins in the bin behind him. “can i ask one more question?” you look at him with a small smile. “sure, sukuna.” 

his hand that was now free of the ice cream cone instinctively goes to your other hip, not out of flirtation, but simply closer proximity. you were in the space between his legs, but it wasn’t awkward. it was just intimate.

“why’d your dad ask you to come home?” you let out a small sigh, brushing your hair out of your face to no avail as the wind pushes in your face again. you look a little solemn as you speak. “he wants me to help my brother with entrance exams for secondary school. i’m really just doing the work of a tutor, which i can’t imagine my father couldn’t afford, especially in terms of my brother.. but, i have duties that are unspoken, i guess. that i’m just expected to follow through. my tuition for university is paid by him, so i can’t exactly ghost my family. and my mom is still great with me, so.. i don’t want to lose her too,” you admit. 

when you finish you realize sukuna’s been rubbing circles on your side, deep in listening to you. “i know family’s tough,” he replies. “but you need to realize when it’s starting to screw you up. i’m sure if i didn’t come to your place, you’d still be burying yourself under all that fuckin’ expectation and you’d be burnt out by the morning.” you nod, the weight of his words settling in, and for a moment, you’re grateful for the honesty he’s bringing out of you. it’s strange, this feeling of openness with him, like he’s peeling back the layers you keep hidden from most people.

“maybe,” you mutter, looking down at your hands, which are still a bit sticky from the ice cream. “but it’s hard, you know? i feel guilty when i consider putting myself first, like it’s selfish or something.”

you hear sukuna inhale deeply, still focused on you. “selfish? putting yourself first is sometimes the best damn thing you can do. you’ve got one life, sweetheart.” he pauses, the weight of his gaze meeting yours. “if you don’t set those boundaries, no fucker’s gonna do it for you.”

his hand brushes a stray hair off your cheek that had been in your face for a while now, and your heart skips as his thumb lingers there. he leans in just a little, enough that his face is close, his gaze holding yours in a way that makes the rest of the world blur.

you swallow, feeling a warmth rising in your chest, a feeling that’s unfamiliar to you. “thanks. i guess i needed to hear that,” you whisper, genuinely touched.

he tilts his head slightly, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, though there’s something softer behind his eyes. “anytime, sweetheart.” 

without thinking, you shift your hand up to rest against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

he raises a brow, an amused but warm expression lighting up his face. “tryin’ to feel me up now?” he chuckles, but his voice is softer than usual.

you laugh, rolling your eyes, but you don’t move your hand. “shut up,” you murmur, your fingers tracing idle circles on his shirt as you both stay there, close and comfortably silent. the connection between you was enough. sukuna’s hand shifts to gently cup the side of your face, tilting you to see him. you really see him. his thumb grazing your cheek, his gaze flickering to your lips and then back to your eyes. you feel like the world has stopped around you two. you feel the subtle pull of his fingers on your skin. your heart beat is pounding out of your chest, and you feel his racing through his jacket too. in that instant, everything feels inevitable.

the harsh honk of a car horn cuts through the air, dragging you out of the moment with a jolt. you blink as the abrupt return to reality makes your breath catch in your throat. you pull away instinctively, breaking the bubble you were in. the realization of what was about to happen makes you nervous and almost scared. suddenly, you felt suffocated again. you shift, fumbling your fingers with your head down. 

sukuna stands still, silent. his hand that was almost ready to pull you in rested at his side now. his expression was rather blank, but different about the way he’s watching you. it’s quieter, more reserved, like he's waiting for you to say something—anything—to bridge the gap that’s formed between you. his jaw tightens slightly, just a hint of frustration, but he says nothing. he doesn’t rush to fill the silence. his silence is weighty, deliberate, and you feel the intensity of it even more because of it.

you glance at him quickly, and for a split second, you wonder what’s going through his mind. he doesn’t look at you with expectation but with that unreadable intensity that seems to pierce straight through you. you swallow, breaking the silence first. “sorry,” you manage, the words coming out squeakier than you intended, the awkwardness making you want to jump off a bridge. god, strike me down now or so help me.

“don’t apologize,” he rasps, his voice low, rougher than before. it’s not a demand, more like a quiet statement of fact. “you didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”

his words hang in the air, steady and unyielding. it’s not comforting in the traditional sense, but it’s there—uncompromising, like he’s just being real with you. there’s no pushing or attempting to rush things. he’s waiting for you to say what you need to say, or to fall silent again. like whatever you do, he’s not going anywhere.

you instead opt to pivot like you usually do, and turn to get on the bike. you check your phone and give a fake little chuckle. “it’s getting so late, wow! we should head out. yeah?” sukuna realized you were definitely feeling weird about the moment you just had, so he wasn’t going to make it ruin the night you both had enjoyed so far. he only nods. “lemme take you to your place.” 

the ride was weirdly quiet, even though you never spoke on the bike anyways. it was too loud over the roar of vehicles on the road. when sukuna turns into your street, you feel a wave of nervous energy pulse through you again. 

the bike slows as he pulls up to the curb in front of your building, the streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement. sukuna parks, but doesn’t make a move to dismount right away. he keeps his hands on the handles, his body still. it’s as if he’s waiting for you to move first. 

you shift off the motorcycle and walk to his side. you don’t give yourself the chance to second-guess it. sukuna looks like he’s about to say something when you press a soft kiss to his cheek, fleeting and sudden, just enough to catch him off guard. for the first time ever, you saw sukuna blush. before he can say anything, you step back already turning on your heel to run briskly towards the entrance of your building, heart hammering against your ribs.

“goodnight!” you call over your shoulder, your voice filled with the adrenaline rush you were feeling. you don’t wait for him to respond as you push open the door and slip inside quickly. the cool air of the building is a sharp contrast to the warmth that still lingers on your lips. You press your fingers on your lips, feeling your heartbeat even in your fingertips. you seriously don’t know what you were thinking… tonight’s feelings are swirling around you as you make your way up the stairs to your apartment.

sukuna was sitting for five minutes on his bike in front of your apartment, brain flatlining. he was going to kiss you. he was so close to your lips. he thought that chance encounter was the most he was going to get tonight when you decided to do that and have the gall to run away. 

he didn’t wash his face that night.

a figure with shoddy blonde hair puts out his cigarette stub on the wall, exhaling the last drag he had. the rooftop was empty, save for his friend. mahito sucks his teeth and throws the bottle of beer he was drinking on the ground, the shatter echoing in the dark night. 

“fuck, man! what are we going to do about that motherfucker?” he seethes, face red from his drunken rage. 

naoya chuckles at his lack of control. he didn’t seem as pissed about the whole ordeal, especially not as much as mahito. the fraternity wasn’t everything to him. and he knew good things come to those who are patient. 

“don’t think about him. we need to focus on the bitch that curved you,” naoya tells him coolly. 

mahito nods slowly, raring up with hype. “yeah… yeah! that ugly whore that got me jumped!” naoya just stares out at the buildings below, unbothered. 

“she’ll pay, mahito. just wait.”

sooooo :) how was it guys :) as always i live and breathe for comments (and all reactions hehe) so please don't hesitate <3 i try my best to reply to everyone in a timely manner, but please have mercy on me if i don't </3 love you all!

peace luv bathtub!

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comment to be added to the taglist! will be capped at a certain point! much love <3

© sozila 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other mediums or sites. cross-posted on ao3 and tumblr under same alias.

[sordidmusings]

Age Gap (Buggy x Reader)

A/N: for @soft-mafia since she wanted more age gap Buggy! Mostly bulleted like a headcanon but has two little drabbles sprinkled in cuz I couldn't help myself. I will be posting a continuation of this actually writing out the scene mentioned at the end, but I wanted to get this out now.

Word count: ~2.6 k

Warnings: obviously an age gap but the younger one is mentioned to be in their 20s, fem!reader, NSFW mentioned at the end, alcohol consumption, probably (hopefully) silly humor, the touch starved shows hardcore for a second there, tried my best to get Buggy right but you know how it be especially because he exists as an amalgam of LA and anime Buggy in my brain

Now come get y'all dopamine

I imagine you joined Buggy’s crew largely looking for that found family goodness then found out how much you’d never been taken care of and how much you craved it

One day while going through the different acts you were learning from the crew trying to find what stuck, you took a decent fall. Not the kind that breaks bones, but the kind where you just gotta lay there a sec and recalibrate how you got to this point

After some laughter (I mean come on it is a crew curated by Buggy and they could tell it wasn’t serious), the nearby crew surrounded you to check on you. While you were breathlessly saying you’re fine from your position on the floor, they parted to reveal the Captain coming to your side:

Buggy bent down to loom over you. The shadow he cast over your face was a welcome break from the bright overhead lights. You just wished that the way they haloed him didn’t make it so hard to see the laughter on his face.

“Good form! I think we could just throw you around to see you flail like that as your act - you’d be our finest comedy routine.” His voice was thick with sarcasm and giggles. However, his detached arms were gentle when they lifted you from the floor. They changed to posing outstretched with his hands on your shoulders and he walked into them to reattach. He looked you up and down before circling around you, all the while his hands were nudging you this way and that for his inspection. Once he was back at your front, he changed to brushing some dirt from your arms and shoulders. You didn’t speak for fear of interrupting this attention you were receiving from him.  He seemed to suddenly snap to clarity anyway.

“RIGHT.” Vocal control? Who is she? Buggy doesn’t know her. “So either get better at what you’re doing or actually fall on purpose. Wouldn’t want you fucking up that money maker.” He was already walking away when one detached hand gave your cheek two brisk pats and he made himself scarce.

It was obvious to you and everyone else how much you ate up his attention. The soft look you were still giving the direction he went in was damn near sickening. It was then you understood your purpose here - becoming Buggy’s spoiled lapdog.

Luckily for you, that was also the moment Buggy realized how his body buzzed when he touched you and how he lit up when you looked up at him with pretty, wide eyes. 

Unluckily, he also decided that being near you would lead down a dangerous route of him needing more and more of you and he was positive that he was just being some old creep over a pretty little thing like you.

This led to a game where Buggy would try to keep you at arm’s length while he battled both his own desire to be around you and your seemingly supernatural ability to just appear next to him at all times.

He wasn’t great at the arms distance thing even when he thought he was nailing it because nailing it to him was being in his natural space as the center of attention and only checking (immediately and desperately) that you were watching and approving of whatever he was doing. The way his head would always snap to you for your reaction was neither subtle nor discouraging to your rapidly growing infatuation.

You decided that orbiting his personal space wasn’t working well enough. Sure, he’d give you a hit of what you wanted with some fleeting touches and mostly disguised compliments but you needed more. Hurting yourself intentionally so that he would take care of you didn’t seem like a sustainable option, so you settled on playing his own game. Time to practice owning a room.

This could be a dangerous game to play. You were certain that blatantly taking the spotlight would just make him upset with you not that you’d mind him taking that out on you. You settled on more subtle things like spreading your attention more through the crew instead of mostly on him, being more focused and daring in your training, participating more in the many games that broke out when the alcohol did, and dressing a bit more intentionally (whether that’s flashier colors, eye-catching accessories, bold makeup, new or intricate hairstyles, etc.) 

The boldest card you played was feeding more into any of the flirting you received.

He has a freak show, yes, but have you ever seen how fine circus performers are?? Full fun costumes are It and also the tasks they have to perform either help them get conventionally attractive bodies and/or the rizz that comes with performing feats (just look at the traction Fryboy has gained with women like damn why he kinda-). Due to that, you’re around attractive people all the time.

While the flirting is for the purpose of pushing Buggy’s buttons, you must admit that it wasn’t a hard habit to keep up and may help inflate your ego.

Your attempts have mixed results. Buggy’s desire to claim you grew but so did his insecurity

In his mind, you look more natural next to one of the younger lookers in his crew while he’s certain the pair of you must look ridiculous together. It’s this very insecurity that’s gonna make it necessary for you to bluntly and shamelessly throw yourself at him both repeatedly and with no room for questions:

You have no clue what else you can do to get through that thick skull of his. You’re on your knees, quite literally at that. You figured that kneeling in front of that circus throne while he’s laid himself all over it would be enough to break the man. Enough to break any man, really, but he’s still finding ways to deflect you.

Buggy nodded his head to a nearby open seat. “You know they made chairs to be comfortable and your dumb ass is on the floor. That drunk already?” he snorted. Maybe choosing to do this during one of the many celebrations (you think this one is for one week of no one pregaming for show runs. ironic.) was a bad idea. You had been banking on some drinks loosening up whatever was holding him back.  It always made you snicker when you entertained the idea of it being from a sense of propriety. Checking in on the situation, you could see how all the chaos going on around you two made it easier for him to keep his eyes off of you and his ears unfocused. Earlier, you had counted it as a plus that working up a buzz would help you bulldoze through his stubbornness. You had forgotten that any alcohol in your system would make for the perfect excuse for him to write you off.

“I’ve barely started my third drink,” you started with a pout, “and I’d be ashamed if that’s enough to get me drunk after all the time spent on your crew.”

“Then you are just being stupid.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes. Okay. Attention didn’t work. Compliments didn’t work. Kneeling didn’t work. Time for some big guns.

You shifted to the side so you’d be sitting towards your left hip with your bent legs beside you. Your drink found its way to your right hand but, most importantly, your chin found its way onto Buggy’s left knee. It brought you so close to where you’d really like to put yourself to work, and, man, was the temptation strong with the way his right leg was slung over the armrest of his seat. How did he expect you to stay away when he was serving himself up on a platter like this?

Buggy was definitely giving you his undivided attention now. His gaze was dark and slightly accusatory. The lighting matched with his makeup made him look more dangerous than usual. The nerves it sent through you might have had you back right off. Instead you held your ground because you saw his pulse hammer against his neck. You saw his throat bob as he swallowed. You saw his pink tongue contrast with red as he licked his lips and gave a shaky exhale.

While you were starting to settle into your bold move, Buggy was becoming more and more antsy. His grip on his glass became white-knuckled under his gloves, and he tried to give himself time to think by taking a huge gulp of his drink. Why did you have to look at him like that? So pleading? The angle from his lap made your lashes darken your eyes and it was impossible for him to keep the image of your hooded gaze about a foot closer to him out of his head. What did you want from him? You’d denied his accusations about money or intel so what the fuck could it be? Was this a game? Get in the pants of the Captain for preferential treatment and go back to whoever else you had in your palm on the crew to laugh about him falling for it?

You noticed his mood turning sour so you decided to interrupt whatever was tumbling around his head. “I think I could get much more comfy right here.” To prove a point, you dragged your chin to his inner thigh, right above his knee, and snuggled your cheek into his leg. His pants weren’t the softest against your skin but he was so addictingly warm through them. Your eyes briefly fluttered shut to enjoy the sensation before you looked back up at him and flirtatiously said, “I’m comfiest next to you.”

His hands itched with the need to grab you by the hair and force your face right where he needed you. Instead he scoffed at you. “Suuuuure. And why’s that, princess?”

“You make me smile,” you admitted immediately. His startled gaze met your lovesick one and you realized what you said and how quickly you said it. Too close to emotionally vulnerable; time to backtrack a touch. You want to get the role as his trophy before you even attempt to approach the title of Love of His Life. “You also said that you take care of your crew and I’m on your crew, right? So you’ll take care of me.”

The cheeky smile you spoke through melted him. An achingly deep sigh left him while his right hand detached from the arm to deposit his drink on the floor next to you. Quickly, it flew back to its limb. Both of your hearts pumped fire through your chests as he reached that hand out towards you. Buggy took his time stroking his fingers from your forehead into your hair. When his palm came down to join the gesture, you were very happy to realize that his hand was just as warm as the thigh still under your cheek. You shuffled closer so your legs squeezed in between his foot and the left leg of his throne. Buggy shuddered when he felt your fingertips graze the back of his calf and spread out like a star so you could grab it. Using your new grip, you snuggled more firmly into his leg and let yourself buzz off of getting this new touch from your Captain.

Ulterior motives be damned, Buggy couldn’t give them any credence when you looked so happy to sit at his feet and receive such a simple touch. He should probably laugh and call you a needy puppy to regain some control over the situation. Instead, he slipped his hand down the side of your head.  He massaged his fingertips into the base of your skull and said, “I’ll take care of you, little star.”

Once he has accepted that you’re serious there will be jokes about the dynamic but do not be fooled - he can only dish it out and WILL spiral if he receives any type of comment about how much older he is (the word geriatric is punishable by death)

Sometimes the joke is him patronizingly treating you like a child (you almost socked him right there at the dinner table when some food came at your face with accompanying airplane noises)

Sometimes it’s calling you a gold digger (“then where’s my allowance, huh?” “OH so my gIFTS AREN’T ENOUGH FOR YOU NOW? YOU were the one ACTUALLY CRYING over me buying you that wonky ass stuffed seal with the lopsided face!!” “HIS NAME IS JERRY AND YOU WILL SHOW HIM SOME RESPECT”)

Sometimes it’s just dumb shit like pointing at the type of girl’s clothing store that has made a contract with God to own all the pinks and pastels the world has to offer before turning to you straight faced and asking if you want to stop in to look. Any way this man can think to goof, he will.

And it’s tooooootally a coping mechanism to process the fact that he’s nearly forty and dating a twenty-something and not at all because joking around with you has become one of his basic survival needs

The dynamic ends up helping both of y’all feel special - you have a hot, boisterous, spotlight-stealing pirate captain pampering (and then making a mess of) you while he gets a beautiful, capable, eye-catching young thing looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky

Nothing goes to Buggy’s head more than when you walk into a room full of people, attractive ones especially, and only see him.

He loves anything that makes it obvious to others that you are his, whether that's him draped over you, you draped over him, red stains on the back of your hands, your shoulders, your cheeks, your forehead, your neck, having his jolly roger on your outfit, having you in his hat or coat

This very much extends to him wanting anyone and everyone to overhear you in the bedroom. Everyone should know you're his and he's the only one who can make you feel so good

Don't worry, they'll also get the message that he's yours from all the moaning and praises

He gives you endless pet names but always comes back to “sweet stuff”, “sweets”, “princess”, “star”, “prima donna” (affectionate), “prima donna” (derogatory), and anything preceded by “little” (“little showstopper”, “little tease”, very rarely “little girl” if he feels especially like exerting power over you)

He prides himself on making you feel cared for and safe. Instead of feeling like a chore he has to do because he’s in the ‘older man’ role, he loves the way you preen under his attention and how you happily return the favor.

When in the Cross Guild Era, Buggy started going to all meetings with you by his side then on his thigh. It was a good defensive strategy because the other two seemed more hesitant to throttle him if you were in the way, but lets be real this man is also clingy and loves showing you off too.

At first he found it offensive that Mihawk and Croc were so disbelieving at the sight of you happily perched on your captain’s lap but then it made him the smuggest motherfucker when he would see their eyes trail over you knowing that they can only look and he can touch however he wants. This leads to him pushing until he hit your boundary at leaving very visible marks on you

One time he fucked you stupid right before a meeting so that you wouldn’t think about the bite mark surrounded by red makeup that kept playing peekaboo with your shirt collar (or the red smears between your thighs that showed whenever you shifted your legs)

[anakinstwinklebunny]

Okay, could you possibly write something about Sam being a teen dad? It could be headcannons or a fic, whatever you’re more comfortable with, i just see him as being moody especially because you asked him not to smoke around the baby and stuff like that..

Author's note: someone teach Sam how to be a dad :(( why do i even have only three fics with emo boy?!?!? What is wrong with me. Thank you nonnie for the request!

TW: swearing when the child is near

you walked up the path that lead to the park, your eyes scanning for none other than SAM MONROE. The stroller wheels squeaked slighty as you passed yet another happy family, wishing you had what they did. Seeming to be happy mother, devouted father..it wasn't like you weren't happy, but constant fights and arguments with sam brought a feeling in your heart that maybe you aren't the family you wanted to be..and with that, your mind easily wandered to the argument you'd had this morning with your boyfriend

it wasn't anything new -- he was moody, stubborn, and defiant at times. But this time, it was about something important - smoking around the baby. Youd asked him so many times, pleaded, and he always nodded, promised to do better, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that it was all slipping through the cracks

as you approached the bench, your blood ran cold. there he was, sam, sitting with the baby in his lap, casually holding cigaratte between his lips. Your nine-month-old son was nestled against him, tiny hands reaching fro sam's shirt, completely unaware of the situation at hand.

"Sam!" your voice was sharp, anger and panic rising in your chest. With practical, long steps, you snatched the cigaratte from his mouth and crushed it beneath your shoe "what the hell are you doing?"

sam looked at you, surprised, but then his brows furrowed and all his mood shifted from calm to defiant in an instant "What the fuck, y/n?" he hissed, gazing how you took the cooing baby from his lap, your arms tightening protectively around him

"What the fuck?" you echoed, your voice now incredulous "you're smoking -- while holding him, Sam! Are you kidding me?" you could feel your blood boiling

standing up, he scoffed, wiping his hands on his jeans like he could brush off the confrontation "it wasn't even lit anymore" he muttered, avoiding your gaze but you could hear the defensiveness dripping from every word

how it was all stupid.

"that's not the point!" your chest tightened, the air in your lungs transforming into pure frustration "How could you even think that's okay? I've asked you so many times not to do this, and you don't take it seriously at all!"

sam's face hardened "i said it wasn't lit. I wasn't blowing smoke in his face or anything, damn" he ran his hand through his dark hair, clearly frustrated as well that you've caught him yet still unwilling to back down

how could he even say that with such an ignorance to the health of your child?

your voice cracked, holding back tears. You were so tired of repeating him the importance of doing what's right. And every time, you felt as if you were speaking to some teenager that can't understand the basic information of moraly "that's not enough, sam. it's not just about whether it's lit or not -- he's breathing in the chemicals on your clothes, in your hair..What if he gets sick, have you ever thought about that?" you looked down at your baby, who was blissfuly unaware of the storm brewing between you two, and it only caused to make your heart ache even more

sam's jaw clenched at your words. of course you'd say that "I'm doing the best i can, alright? i am trying" his voice tight, as if he was on the edge of snapping "I didn't mean to hurt him..You think i don't care about him?" his hand gestured towards the baby

kind of..

the lump in your throat grew, tightening its hold around it like a snake "i know you deep down care about him..but true caring about him means listening when i say stuff like that is dangerous. You can't just...act like it doesn't matter..he's your son too"

at your words something had softened on sam's expression, as if the weight and true responsibility of being a father finally kicked in. He looked around the park, catching the glimpse of other people, laughing kids, steady, warm weather..but when his eyes moved back to your direction, his mask of indifference slid back into its place "It's not like im out here smoking around him every damn day, y/n. I was just having a break, alright? I needed a minute.." he said before adding "And i thought you trusted me with him" the words stung your heart -- it all sounded like he was trying to turn this around on you, make you the bad guy. But not this time

your brows furrowed, and you gently put the giggling boy back to his stroller, giving him his toy to keep his occupied. "This isn't about trust, Sam. It's about keeping him safe" you bit back the urge to yell -- yet you tried to reach the part of him that cared, the part that loved your son as much as you did "he's just a baby. he doesn't know what's dangerous, but we do. You do"

Sam sighed heavily, his eyes finally meeting yours, the defensiveness melting just a little. He looked tired, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, and in a way, you understood. This was hard for both of you—being young parents, trying to balance your own needs with the responsibility of raising a child. But there was no room for carelessness, not when it came to your son.

"I know," Sam mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face, his posture slumping. "I know you’re right." His voice was quieter now, almost reluctant, but it was the closest thing to an apology you were going to get. "I just... I didn’t think it was a big deal. I didn’t mean to make you freak out."

You looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the fear there—the fear of messing up, of not being good enough. But that didn’t make this okay. He thought it wasn't a big deal? Was education illegal for him? "I’m not freaking out because I want to. I’m freaking out because I love him, Sam. And I need you to love him enough to do better."

For a moment, there was silence between you, just the sound of your baby babbling softly in the stroller, his tiny fingers grabbing for his toy. Sam’s eyes flicked down to the baby, and you could see something soften in his gaze. He reached out, gently brushing his son’s hair back with his hand, and you felt a pang in your chest. He did love him—so much—yet he was making such basic mistakes

You sighed, glancing around the park as the sounds of laughter and play filled the air. “Just give me your pack of cigarettes, okay? I can’t trust you to not smoke if you have them with you.”

He looked up, disbelief etched on his face and you swore you could feel coming back to the point zero. “Seriously? You want me to hand them over like I’m some kind of child?”

“I’m serious, Sam. You need to make a choice—your son or those cigarettes?” You folded your arms, your gaze unwavering.

He hesitated, and in that moment, the baby’s wails grew louder, pulling Sam from his thoughts. “God damn it,” he muttered, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the pack of cigarettes. He handed it to you, his expression a mix of defeat and anger. “There. Happy now?”

You took the pack from him and tossed it into the nearby trash can. “It’s a start,” you said quietly. “But it’s not just about cigarettes. You have to change your mindset. You can’t keep putting yourself first.”

Sam watched you, frustration still simmering again (hopefully the last) beneath the surface. “I know. I just... I’m trying to figure it all out. I never expected to be a dad at nineteen.”

“I didn’t either,” you replied softly, glancing down at your son, who was finally starting to calm down in your arms. “But we can’t do this alone. We need to work together. You need to really think about what being a dad means.”

"I’ll try," Sam said quietly, his voice rough around the edges. "I’ll try harder. I promise"

You nodded, swallowing back the lingering frustration. "That’s all I’m asking for." You glanced down at your son, who was now staring up at Sam with wide, curious eyes. "We’re a team, okay? For him."

Sam looked at you, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he nodded, his expression softening just a little. "Yeah. We’re a team."

"now c'mon, we're going for a walk"

Did I forgot to add someone to the tag list? Or someone doesn't want to be on it anymore?

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless

[nctstar]

hi! i just read "one, two..." with djj × female pairing and i was wondering if you could maybe do a jeno, haechan and mark/jaemin version? i love your works!

your wish is my command bsf <3 also thank you so much! means a lot :)

don't let us kinkshame you!

“Don’t talk back to me. If you want to stop, we’ll stop. But don’t stop because you’re shy. Tell us what you want, baby.”

“Yeah, _. Don’t let us kinkshame you.”

pairing: markhyuckno x fem!reader, stylist!reader

other members: chenle (poor dude has no idea)

word count: 7.2k

genre: smut

warnings: this is purely a graphic smut so minors please dni!! foursome, everything is consensual (safeword is established + mentioned), dom!marhyuckno (hard dom!jeno), sub!reader, fanfiction smut is a main theme in this, wet dreams, alpha/omega/beta kink, alpha!jeno, sir kink, sort of muscle/size kink (i'm sorry but bulging biceps make me go insane), unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you get silly folks), rough sex (reader is manhandled/held down), degradation (liberal use of the words slut, whore, brat + other degrading terms), everyone has a ginormous dick, slight praise kink, sort of pain play (not really) intense orgasms, squirting, fingering (fem receiving), humiliation, oral (male receiving), nipple play, riding, crying during sex, spanking, begging, punishing reader sexually, profanity

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my (filthy) imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic. 

a/n: thank you anon and sorry this is definitely the nastiest thing to ever come out of my imagination and onto my laptop. i think i'm on some sort of watchlist for sure

“Have you read it, _?”

“Read what?” The sound of the hairdryer muffled most sounds in the room, including Mark’s voice as you watched his mouth open and close with his answer. Running your hands through Haechan’s semi-dry locks, you noticed a lit-up phone in front of your face. Squinting, you read while your hands worked.

poison | alpha! jeno x reader | 18+

You swallowed thickly, but quickly composed yourself. Swiping the hairbrush off the dresser, you glanced at Haechan in the mirror, setting his hair at the same time. “Sounds like more action than you two would ever get in a week…combined.”

Haechan rolled his tongue inside his cheek, playfully annoyed while Mark remained undeterred, his eyes still glued to his phone. His eyes suddenly widen, and he looks away, a mix of morbid curiosity and shock in his eyes. “Damn...”

Haechan sneered. “Got a boner there, Mr Lee?”

An empty can of hairspray bounced off Haechan’s forehead with a dull thump, Mark’s chair now swivelled around to face him. “Guys! Let me do my job! We only have, like, 2 minutes to go, and Haechan, your damn hair isn’t setting.”

“I have to dye it every 2 minutes because I have a comeback that often, remember?”

“Have you been using the treatment I gave you last session?”

“Why? Would you give me a reward if I did?” His deep brown irises glistened under the harsh white lights as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. Smacking his shoulder in response, you tried to hide the way your heart was fluttering inside your chest, like a million butterflies trapped in a glass jar. “Lee Donghyuck!”

“It’s okay baby, it’ll be better next time.”

“Gross.” Embarrassingly, you felt your core twitch at the mere thought of those words being taken out of context. “Such a dirty mind. You sure you didn’t write that alpha fic?”

You were getting brave, but something inside of you forced you to keep going. Haechan scoffed, rolling his eyes and swinging one leg over the other. “Yeah, I don’t have the hots for Jeno. Mark might, though.”

“Say it one more time, Donghyuck, I’m warning you.” Mark was shrugging the salon cape off himself, brushing lint off the stage jacket. He towered over his hairstylist, on her tiptoes as she fixed the strands of hair that spiked strategically on his forehead. His undercut teased you from the side, and you swallowed deeply, thinking about last night. As if on cue, Mark turned to look at you, as quick as you would glance at the barista for your morning coffee. “See you later.”

That was code for see you later with my cock down your throat.

∞

“Nghhh, Mark.”

“You’re doing so well, baby. Think you can go a few more times?”

You nodded slowly, the swollen bulb of his cock sticking onto the remnants of your lipgloss.

“Fuck, such a perfect slut. How did we get so lucky, hmm?” Your hair tangled in his long fingers, he pierced you on his thick length, tapping your cheek with his other hand when you gagged loudly. “Shhh, quieter. Don’t want anyone else to hear, yeah?”

You whimpered softly, desperately trying to open wider to accommodate him. He pushed you deep until your nose grazed his pubic bone, your hands immediately coming to his thighs as a reflex. “Good fucking girl. God, I’m so close. All for you, baby.” You pushed on his thighs when you felt your throat restrict uncomfortably, coughing up saliva as you soon as his cock left your mouth.

Mark tipped your head up to face him, your watery eyes staring back at him. “Gonna make you feel so good after this, yeah?” His thumb pressed down on your tongue hard, forcing drool to slide down your chin. “Use your words, slut. Tell me how much you need my cock.”

Mark was usually mean, but today he was mean mean, and, though you were taken aback, you couldn’t say you hated it.

Garbled sounds left your mouth as Mark slipped his other fingers inside your mouth, forcing you to babble nonsense at him. He laughed darkly. “So pathetic.”

“Mark, please.” You gasped as he released your mouth, fingers now grabbing your chin tightly. “Wanna make you feel so good, s-sir.”

“Wanna make your alpha feel good, baby?” You froze immediately, the word alpha stunning you into place like a deer caught in headlights.

You and Mark stared at each other for much longer than would normally be considered sexy, the energy in the air quickly changing into something painstakingly awkward. Not wanting to lose the momentum you both had gathered or, worse, discuss what just happened, you grabbed at his cock and shoved your mouth onto him, making him stumble backwards and groan. The air was filled with sounds of sloppy head, all caution thrown out the window as you bobbed your head through his orgasm, not stopping until you felt hot spurts of cum shooting down your throat.

∞

“Mark, I will never let you forget this.”

“Haechan, be serious here.” Mark unbuttoned the top of his jeans, breathing out in relief as the seams on the size-too-small pants released its iron-clad grip on his body. The inside of the car was dark, the only light being that coming from Haechan’s phone, illuminating the bottom of his face and lips, now curled into a teasing smirk.

Haechan leant forward, seemingly trying to hide the impending conversation from the poor staff member tasked on driving them back to their dorm. “You used the word alpha unironically while you were making _ suck your dick? I’m actually fucking dying right now.”

“Oh my god, yes, we get it, I tried something new and it failed miserably.” Mark hissed under his break, sneaking one glance behind him. “But what was weirder is…well, you should have seen the look on her face. It’s like she got caught or something.”

Haechan chuckled lowly. “Or maybe she was just weirded the hell out, Mark.”

“Well,” Mark scratched at his head, the hair gel residue now itching at his scalp. “We usually…do more. But today, she just ran out after that and didn’t say anything else.”

“Good job, Milk. You just ruined your chances at sex with her forever, you freak.”

Mark sighed, pretending not to have heard him and frowning as if deep in thought. Haechan raised one eyebrow. “You don’t mean to say…”

“What?”

“That’s not what you’re insinuating, is it?” The car began to slow, and both men became wary of the newfound quiet inside the car as they cruised down a near-empty suburb, the odd man or woman dimly lit by passing streetlights as the walked by. “What are you talking about right now?” As Haechan reshuffled himself on his seat to get closer to Mark, one leg brushed past his, and he cleared his throat, trying to be as unsuspecting as possible.

“You think she’s into that kinda stuff?”

“Well, why would she run away then?”

“Think about what we were doing before this.” The words felt unsure even as they left his mouth, hanging in the air with uncertainty. It was too ridiculous no matter how he looked at it. But just he had to say it.  

The elephant in the room.

“Wait, wait. That’s her story?”

“Woah.” Haechan put down his phone officially, the car now shrouded in a new darkness, both men squinting to make out the other’s face. “I meant that she might have read it. Not that she…well.” He was visibly puzzled now, his voice faint but quick like a flurry of feathers. “I mean, there’s that possibility. But maybe she was into it, and you reminding her of it made her embarrassed.”

“But why would she be embarrassed? We do worse things, for sure.”

“Okay, first of all, gross. Second, she probably hasn’t accepted it herself. I mean, that fic…” He leant back, his jacket crinkling loud in the almost silent car. “There’s stuff in there that goes way beyond your regular wild kinks and shit.”

“She doesn’t strike me as that kind of girl.” Both men sit in silence for a while, letting that sink in. “I mean…she would be confident enough to be bolder about that kind of thing, you know? She’s the kinda girl that knows what she wants, when she wants it, exactly how she wants it.”

“Right.” Haechan bit his lip, trying to hold back the words that’s so fucking sexy for fear of being teased mercilessly for months. He knew you belonged to no one, yet there was a part of him that recognised that you would probably never choose him to have your way with. The way you looked at Mark, eyes glazing over in deep submission, a stark contrast to the way you looked at him, so many things hidden behind those playful, bratty eyes.

Mark hummed under his breath, phone now in hand. “She’s coming tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, I think it’s her shift tomorrow.” Haechan didn’t think, he knew. He knew you worked Mondays and Fridays and the occasional Wednesday, always arriving between 13 to 16 minutes early to go to the bathroom first, stepping into the dressing room just a minute before and no later. It was creepy, for sure, but he couldn’t help it. He felt the need to be ready whenever you were there. He needed you to see him only in the ways he wanted, layers of banter and smooth mannerisms hiding his true feelings underneath, the way his heart slammed against his ribcage and threatened to break free whenever you moved close.

“Well, we’ll see how she reacts then.” Mark slouched against his seat, his voice fading away as his attention shifted, and Haechan marvelled at how five second thoughts of you had rendered him completely amnesiac to what he was just talking about with Mark. He closed his eyes, letting his body naturally drift off into an exhausted slumber.

 ∞

“Hey boys.”

Your satin-clad hips swayed back and forth as you walked, one hand re-applying your gloss for what felt like the dozenth time.  “Anyone need a touch up or are we all good here?”

Mark was surprised at your easy demeanour, as if nothing was ever going on between you guys, let alone the encounter you two had had only yesterday. He cleared his throat, sweat dripping down his forehead as another staff member helped him unzip his top from the back. “You look…nice.” He wondered if it was obvious that he was trying to keep his eyes locked on your face, not wanting his gaze to linger too much on your body.

“Yeah, I’m dressed for the event after this. That’s still happening, right?” Your heels clacked against the linoleum floor as you stepped forward. Haechan was only two steps ahead of you, his hair in the hands of another stylist. You whispered something to her and she let go, walking away with the gel stick still in her hand. “Look forward.”

“Didn’t really strike me as the party type, _.” Your last name drawled off his lips, lazy and nonchalant. “Always stroke me as weird book girl in the corner type.”

“And what if I am?” You started backcombing his stiff strands, grimacing at the residue the gel was leaving and the way it was inevitably mixing with his sweat. “I can be both, can’t I?”

“Sure. You could be a writer, couldn’t you, _?”

Haechan could have sworn that even for a split second, a moment so small, so ­­blink and you’ll miss it, that you hesitated. Your hands shook with the energy of a tiny hummingbird flapping its wings, so swift it stopped as soon as it registered. “Nah.” You sounded different now, like you were feigning innocence to hide the fact that he had cornered you.

Mark and Haechan shared a knowing side-eye as Haechan felt firm pulls on his scalp. “You should probably get going, Mark.” His name fell solid in the air as it left your mouth, as certain as a command would be, and your peripheral vision caught the ends of his body as he packed up his things and left soundlessly.

It was only you and Haechan in the room now, the other stylists now long gone (a/n: how convenient!), leaving behind only the mess of a true makeup studio, products strewn haphazardly across the plastic dressers. You watched Haechan lick his lips on instinct in the mirror, only now noticing the various sticky notes adorned with Korean letters you weren’t too familiar with. “No, don’t. You’ll mess up the- oh, never mind.” You sighed, but it didn’t feel relieving at all, as if your muscles were constricting up again instead of letting go. Haechan talked at your reflection. “Sorry.”

A whirl of your arm sent his chair turning so he was now facing you, bending over to match his eye level. “Hold still.” As your breaths played out of sync, you were hyper aware of every sensation. The way your hairs stood on end. The smell of his musky cologne now filling your nostrils. Your bare legs suddenly burning hot, slightly brushing against the inside of his knees. Your eyes fighting to stay up at his face and not stray downwards. “That’s it.” You glazed his lips over with your applicator, gripping the tube and the arm of the chair in one hand.

You were used to these intimate positions, particularly with the job you had. But, as you realised you had just applied your own lipgloss onto him, a different feeling was dawning on you.

As you locked eyes, Haechan spoke, bold and ready. “It would be insane if you didn’t kiss me right now.”

The first noticeable sensation was the sticky mess that threatened to spread over the edges of both of your lips, lewd sucking noises now filling the air as you both dived deeper. Your tongue flitted over his lips and he groaned. “Fuck.” Readjusting in his chair, he slapped his thigh. “Sit, sit.”

“No.” Pulling away, you turned his chair once again to face the mirror and patted his shoulder. “Stand up.”

“W-wh…” Confused, he stumbled off anyway, wheels turning and the seat rolling away from the impact of his stand. He turned to face you.

“Good boy.” You smirked, lips now grazing the supple skin of his Adam’s apple, hands travelling down to his pants. “Is this what you wanted all along, baby?”

He stared, eyes slightly glassy, rimmed with smudged black kohl. Tilting his head back, he breathed soft moans onto your skin as you sucked on his neck, red blooming onto his olive skin. “A-ah.” Squeezing his eyes shut, he gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, I need you right now, Hyuck.” Something about using his real name felt too intimate, affectionate even, and he kissed you as you unbuckled him, semi-stiff cock hitting your clothed pelvis. Pushing him back onto the vanity, you angled yourself, him eventually helping you by giving you a small lift once he realised what was happening. Up on your toes, one leg slightly elevated, you let your walls suck him in all at once. “O-oh, fuck.”

He thrusted upwards, iron grip on your hips unchanging as you clawed at his back, the studs on his jacket rough underneath the pads of your fingers. The pleasure was spreading to your chest, rendering you speechless. “Oh my god, oh, fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop.” You begged, feeling your thighs slip against each other as your own arousal dripped down your legs.

“_? You sleeping right now?”

You awoke with a gasp, your phone clattering onto the tiles as you sat up. “Woah, take it easy. You alright?” He leant over to pick up your thankfully intact phone, shuffling closer with one arm outstretched and eyebrows gently raised.

Before you was Lee Jeno, blonde hair grazing the top edges of his round eyes, body bulging against the thin fabric of the white shirt. His waist accentuated by a thick leather belt, you noticed the outskirts of his toned stomach peeking out from under his top. Gulping, you nodded. “Y-yeah. Thanks, um…” His name died on your lips, as if some sort of curse prevented you from ever uttering it.

“Here. You sure you’re okay? You were sleeping pretty deeply, even in this noise. Sorry, I didn’t know if I should wake you…”

“No, no, it’s fine. I mean, I’m the crazy one, right? Sleeping at a party!” You tried to laugh it off, but a snort came out instead, and you blushed intensely. Oh my god. This is so embarrassing.

Unfazed, Jeno smiled, eyes turning into semicircles as he did. “It would be fine if you went home, you know.” He tilted his head, blonde hairs perfectly aligning to one side. The charisma radiating off him froze you in place, and you had to unglue your eyes from his face. “Ah, yeah.” Truthfully, your body felt like it had been through a dryer, and your joints were cracking like popcorn. You needed sleep for sure.

He jumped from the couch, letting you bounce slightly. Looking up, he extended his arm. “Come. I’ll drop you off.”

∞

You felt exposed. Not only because you were in the skimpiest outfit you owned, but because halfway through you and Jeno’s exit from the party, he had decided it was too cold and had changed into a hoodie and sweats, making him look less and less like a colleague or client or even friend and more like an idol sugar daddy. Nevertheless, you didn’t oppose his company, and you both rode back in silence, his knees knocking into yours occasionally, making your heart flip each time.

It’s not that he made you nervous, typically, despite your tiny little crush on him. But it was the way he woke you up right in the middle of your wet dream with another man, mere hours after his bandmate had you on your knees sucking him off. Every time he leaned over, your name leaving his lips so effortlessly as you stumbled over yours, your hands shook with the thoughts than ran wild in your brain. Did he know? You wondered, as he droned over some tiktok video, whether he knew about your sexual rendezvous with his bandmates, some real and some imagined, and the uneasiness in the pit of your stomach only grew as time passed.

It didn’t change as you had reached in your apartment, him somehow still on the topic he was on in the car, now manspreading onto your couch as you sat quietly across from him.

“But like, do you get it, _?” He sipped on the coffee you had made for him, marvelling at how quickly he drank something that usually took you an hour to finish. “Not bad. But why would he even do that, you know? Maybe she didn’t realise that he knew, but oh boy, he definitely knew.”

“Right.” To be clear, you had lost the plot ages ago, shamelessly thinking more about how close in proximity your bodies were, how comfortable he suddenly was around you, and what it all meant. “Do you want, uh, something else.” Shyly gesturing at his empty mug, you tucked hair behind your right ear, the movement unsteady.

He stared directly at you now, letting your anxiety rise and fill the space between your bodies. Holding the gaze, he dropped the mug in front of himself on the table, only then dropping his head dramatically in between his collarbones. You frowned.

“Sorry.” He muttered. “I must be annoying, right.”

“No, no, not at all!” Your voice was much more high-pitched than a woman with any self-esteem, but you kept going. “I mean, that’s fine, Jeno, really. It’s nice to see you, like passionate, and um…” Your babbling continued, and he only smirked in response. Your stomach turned as you suddenly watched as his eyes change, darken around the edges. Suddenly the lights in your apartment felt harsh, exposing, like the lights on a fresh crime scene.  

“_. I know about the fic.”

“What fic?” It was on instinct, but your ears starting ringing, blood running cold in your hands and feet. This isn’t real. This is another dream.

“Awww, don’t be embarrassed, baby. It’s okay to think those things about me.” He slumped backwards, one arm around the back of the couch, a subtle cocky smile starting to bloom across his face. “Markie told me how good you are anyway.”

“Jeno…” You fought the urge to gasp, your face burning from the inside out. “I, wait, um…”

“Shh, stop that.” He leaned forward with an almost-too-eager attitude, but he held himself back as he spread his knees wide, pointing at the ground. “Here.”

“Fuck, this isn’t happening.” Your hair whipped the sides of your face as you shook your head vigorously, slowly gazing up at his long frame as you did. You swore you heard him laugh quietly. “This is another dream, isn’t it.”

“So you dream about me?”

“No, it was about Hae-“ Jeno’s eyes widened before he guffawed loudly. “Fuck, _, you’re nastier than I thought. Was he good? Better than Mark?”

It was your turn to be shocked, eyes widening as he shook his head, letting his hair ride up his forehead. “Why, did you think it was a well-kept secret? Have you seen Mark? He glows with the radiance of a man who gets his dick sucked on the regular.”

“Jeno.” You wanted to be stern, but your voice came out kind of soft, almost like a whimper.

Jeno rolled his eyes. “Stop stalling, _. You heard me the first time.”

“But-“

“But what? If you want to stop, you can just say cherry. That’s what her Jeno told her to say, right?”

He had read the entire thing. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t happening.

As your body filled with an airy energy, you realised you were actually getting horny. He wanted you, maybe even needed you, and that filled your stomach with a mixture of trepidation and excitement. You slowly gulped, hearing the couch shuffle as you moved off it, walking over to him.

“Good girl. On your knees, baby.” You obeyed silently, eyes onto the floor as you waited.

“What are you waiting for, slut?” You felt Jeno’s rough hands grab the short strands of your hair, making you squeal like a tiny animal. “Do you wanna go home without tasting alpha’s big cock tonight, hmm?”

“Nnngh…n-no.” You eyes began to water at the force pulling on your scalp, hands fumbling around the waistband of his grey sweatpants. Your heart began to pound as you eyed the sizable bulge he was forming in his boxers.

“That’s it. Now hands behind your back.” As his length sprung out of the tight confines of his underwear, you cried out as it hit you square in the nose. “O-oh my god. Oh…fuck, wait, I don’t know.” Feeling Jeno’s unforgiving grip on your head keeping you dangerously close to him. you brought your palms to his knees, ready to push him away.

“What is it now?”

You shook your head, throat constricting already at the thought of his length inside your mouth. “It’s…well…fuck, it’s huge.”

As you looked up at him, you watched him give you a condescending smile. “Do you think alpha cares about you, baby, hmm? Why are you telling me all this? I don’t give a flying fuck. You either take all of me, or you leave. But you’ll leave a bad omega.”

Any other scenario where someone said something like this would have made you cringe, maybe even laugh, but today you felt your breath catch inside your lungs, as if someone was squeezing them extra tight. Word for word from the fic.

Whimpering, you folded both your palms around his girth, making him hiss. “Oh fuck, can’t even wrap my hands around it.” you whispered.

“You guys started without us?”

You jumped off your knees, your brain already forming the myriad of excuses before the initial shock settled and the words finally registered. “What the hell are you two doing in my apartment?” You glared at Mark, and now Haechan, who was slowly starting to come out of the shadows like a creepy stalker.

“Spare key.” The metal glinted as he hung the keychain off his fingers before grabbing it in midair. The same key you had handed Mark a few weeks ago, back when your little sessions were becoming daily (or multiple times a day) and you were sick of having to do the whole thing where he would have to come to your place an hour after you had arrived in case people were following him, or worse, taking pictures. He would have to wait into ungodly hours into the night on days you worked the night shift, which would let the spontaneous lust you had both gathered over the course of the day fizzle out by the time your tired body came home. You couldn’t be seen together outside of the workplace for various reasons, so having him come first carefully and you after had been working pretty well so far.

Except, well, for times like this.

“Mark!” You exclaimed, now fully facing him and closer to his lean frame, the waft of cologne hitting you as you trodded towards him. “Are you serious? You came here without my permission? And let someone else come too, at that!” Haechan acted insulted at this, mouth parting in mock surprise.

“I’m sorry, baby. But come on, Jeno had a great idea that we just couldn’t miss.” He brought one hand to stroke the side of your face, making you wince slightly. The ends of his fingers were like electricity, having more power over you than you liked to admit. You made eye contact with Haechan, and it was like you were back inside your dream. This. Wasn’t. Happening.

“I-wait…are you guys…seriously, what, you’re not saying-“

“Alright, talk over. Get over here, _. You’ve kept me waiting long enough.” Jeno let one arm hang lazily across the arm of your couch, another one stroking his length at an agonising pace. Your eyes felt like they were bulging out of your sockets, and your stomach churned nervously.

“Stop drooling and suck me off like a good omega. Come on, don’t be shy.”

You were on your knees again, Jeno’s cock at eye level, trying to ignore your newfound audience with a very telling tremble of your legs. Opening your mouth, you began to suck around his tip, the salty precum exploding on your tongue. You felt a hand on the back of your head, and you jerked away immediately. “Stop teasing. Come on, show your alpha and these dumb little betas what you’re good at.” You whined. “Fuck, fuck.” Choked cries filled the air as Jeno impaled you on his cock with one hand, his tip hitting the sensitive part of your throat and making you gag loudly.

As he pulled you off, strings of saliva attached him to your lips, embarrassingly making your core clench around nothing as you marvelled at how filthy this entire situation was. “So big.” Your voice was raspy, juices slathered over your chin as if he’d been fucking your mouth for hours. Jeno let you engulf him whole again, the sloppy sounds becoming more rhythmic as he bounced your face back and forth on him. “Hands off me and behind your back.” You balled your fists as you listened to him, closing your eyes as he groaned in pleasure. “So warm and tight. All for me, yeah?” You shook your head up and down as you hummed in response, looking up and him with your watery eyes.

You watched Jeno’s eyes drift away from you to something behind. “Ah, wait, let me get her off me first.” His voice changed now, you barely comprehended what was happening as you gasped for air post pull-off, before feeling a resounding slap on the back of your bare thighs. “Ah!”

“You think you can just leave me after sucking me off, baby? After all that we’ve been through.” You felt your skirt be pulled up, making you sit back on your heels. “Nuh-uh. Get up, let me see you.”

“Fuck, Mark, I didn’t me-oh!” This time he hit your ass, hard, jolting you onto Jeno’s thigh, his cock still grazing the side of your cheek. “Oh, fuck. Mmm.” You tried to shuffle forward but Jeno grabbed both of your wrists, pinning them on his thigh on one side. “Take it like a good girl.” The sting was immediately compounded by the feeling of our own arousal dripping down your thighs, the nasty realisation dawning on you that these assholes were recreating every scene that was written in that damn fic.

“Oh my god, I just wrote it, I didn’t…ah, Mark,” You whined as he squeeze a sensitive part of the plush on your backside. Between hits, you managed to sound out, “I, oh…ah, I didn’t write it for me – oh fuck! Nngh, didn’t mean it, oh my god.” Tears threatening to spill, you resorted to begging. “Mark, M- sir, please!”

“You called, baby?” Trying to turn your head uncomfortably back, you coughed. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean it?”

“What was that, hmm?” Two fingers in your sopping core and you gasped. “Ah, mmm, sorry, sir, ah…”

“So fucking wet. All from me punishing you like that. Is this what you liked all along, you dirty girl? To be our little sadist fucktoy.” One hand around your shoulders and another still knuckle deep inside you, he pulled you up so that your back hit his clothed chest, grip tight and unfaltering. You moaned, feeling the pads of his fingers curl up towards your g-spot. “S-sir, fuck, so good, so good, please…”

“Please what?”

“Please, want more.” You began to bounce your hips on his fingers, head floaty. A sharp slap across your face brought you back to reality, head whacking against the bony part of Mark’s upper chest. “Fucking whore, moving without permission like that.” Jeno was now gripping the ends of your chin, groin facing you once more. “Finish the job, baby. Don’t fucking care what he’s doing.”

“Yes, alpha.” You could have sworn you heard Haechan sigh, a mixture of pleasure and awe, but the moment passed as you took Jeno’s monstrous length once more, your jaw aching already. Mark took this opportunity to start fucking his fingers into you faster and faster. His teeth grazed your earlobe. “You like this, baby? Or you too busy tasting alpha cock to care?”

Your body squirmed under his arm, feeling his muscles bulge against you. Your head felt like jelly as Jeno pounded into you, one hand pushing your forehead down into place. You felt like a little doll being passed around, a slave to your desires, and you screamed as you came, liquid squirting out of your hole and all over your tiled floor as you did.

Your head began feeling floaty, but Jeno wasn’t giving in, and neither was Mark. You tried to get away from his fingers, core already sensitive from your orgasm, but he began to stroke your pussy once more, making you shake your head. Too much. The words were muffled around Jeno’s length, but they seemed to get the idea. “Just a bit more, baby. Tap me if you want to stop.”

Your hands in place, you let Jeno finish inside your mouth, cum leaking from the edges of your lips even as you swallowed diligently. “What a good omega.” Jeno cooed as you fell forward onto your hands, Mark finally releasing you. “Fuck, that was so good.”

“We’re not done yet, honey.” Your head whipped up, looking at Jeno towering over you, cock now hanging limp. “You haven’t taken your pretty boy-toy yet.”

Meeting Haechan’s eyes, you suddenly felt self-conscious at the way you were – skirt half up your ass, wet thighs and chin, a true testament to how much you had been used. Your eyes travelled to the unmistakable tent in his pants, dawning on you that he wanted you too. “H-Haechan.”

“Should’ve just told me you wanted me, baby? Do you know how many times I wanted to just bend you over and fuck you until you begged me to stop? Now I know what a perfect slut you are…”

“Fuck, Hyuckie…”

“Oh, baby.” He began to unzip his pants, hazelnut skin illuminated in the dim lights as you looked up, crawling over shakily. “Tell me what you want, sweetie.”

“Want you so bad. So…s-so much…”

He stopped in his tracks, eyes rolling and crossing his arms across his chest, much to your dismay. “Seems like you don’t want me that bad.”

“No, fuck, I do, I do, I-“

You felt Jeno’s hand land on the skin of your bare ass, making you flinch and look behind in surprise. “Go beg for cock, baby. I know much you need it. Don’t care who’s it is, do you?”

“N-no, I care, I do.” You weren’t sure why, but you suddenly felt frustrated, feeling like you were being teased unfairly. “I need all of you, please, please.”

“Use your words.” Mark’s voice was stern, unwavering, making you squeeze your eyes shut. You felt blood rushing to your head, impairing your ability to think.

“I felt alpha’s cockhead tease my entrance, and I sunk onto his thick length, crying out as I did. I felt so fu-“

“Oh my god, no, stop. Stop.” You tried getting up, but your legs wobbled, making you stumble forward ironically onto Haechan, his hands now on the sides of your arms, steading you. “You alright? What is that?”

“It’s the fucking fic, oh my god.” In the heat of the embarrassment, you hadn’t noticed Haechan drag you onto his lap, letting you hang your head over one shoulder as you buried your face in your hands. “So embarrassing.”

“Another man’s cock, possibly a beta, pushed inside me with my alpha. Nails dragging against my alpha’s muscular back, I cried, saying it was too much, the stretch ripping me apart, but alpha held me down, shushing me. Pain turned to pleasure and I threw my head back, letting my release spray all over the two men, passing out as soon as I did.”

“Holy shit. I hadn’t seen that part.”

“Yeah, it’s part two. She wrote that last night. Probably too horny to go to sleep, were you, baby?” Your tear-streaked face now facing Jeno, you shook your head. “No. I wrote it-“

“Don’t talk back to me. If you want to stop, we’ll stop. But don’t stop because you’re shy. Tell us what you want, baby.”

“Yeah, _. Don’t let us kinkshame you.”

Haechan now sucking on the thin skin of your neck, you gasped, eyes fluttering and your bare pussy now resting on his clothed bulge. “Fuck, uh, need to be fucked, filled, with both of you. Take another in my mouth, please, fuck, I wanna cu-“

“That’s better, slut. Begging to cum like the whore you are, rutting against him like a little bitch in heat. Go ahead, ride him. Do it properly or you’re not cumming again.”

Your hands scrambled for the zipper, Haechan throwing his head back as his hard, long length sprung out of his fly. He groaned and grabbed the back of your neck, squeezing hard as you pumped him impatiently. “Don’t tease.” Lifting yourself up, you aligned your soaking core to his tip, moaning in staccato as you let gravity let all of him be sucked inside you. “H-Hyuck, oh, fuck, so tight.”

He readjusted his hips, making your hair fall in front of your eyes and your hands slam, splayed out onto his upper chest. “Ah…” You moaned as you rode him, feeling every inch pound your insides, tip kissing your cervix with every thrust. Haechan guided your face to his and slammed his lips onto yours, letting your moans escape into his mouth.

Leaving love bites on your collarbone, Haechan dragged one hand under your shirt, rolling the ends of your nipples in between his thumb and forefinger. “H-Haechan, oh, wait-“ You cried out as he pinched the end, not hard enough to be excruciating, but enough to be uncomfortable enough to make you cry out, letting some of his length slip out. “Fuck! I’m sensitive, please.” You heard him shush you, your whines lost amongst the sounds of skin slapping skin as you rode him diligently, trying not to slow down as he played with your chest. “Just felt you squeeze around me, good fucking girl. You like having your body played with like a little brat, hmm?”

Jeno pulled your head back by your face, Haechan releasing your left nipple with an agonising pull, making you cry out. Bringing your upper body back to meet his, he wrapped one arm around the bottom of your stomach, firm and unforgiving. “You wanna take alpha too? Hmm?”

Incoherent sounds left your mouth as you felt Haechan’s cock slide out of you, tingling from the closeness of your orgasm. You felt a sharp smack at your core, making you arch your back. “Haaah…fuck! Yes, yes, s-sir!” Trying to shut your legs on impact, you felt Haechan pry them open again, and, with Jeno tipping you forward, you let him slide back in. Haechan wrapped one arm around the back of your shoulders, another on your lower back, pushing you down on him.

“Hghhh, alpha, please…” You weren’t sure what you were pleading for anymore, your voice sore from all that had happened already. Feeling Jeno’s massive bulb press against your core, your breath quickened. “Ah, fuck, what if it doesn’t fi-oh, ah…” You and Haechan moaned in unison, feeling the tight space get even tighter as Jeno pushed inside, inch by inch.

“Fuck, my little omega takes cock so good.” Tears ran freely down your cheeks, the stretch borderline unbearable but addictive. Your muscles sloppy, you gasped. “I’m so stretched out, alpha, please, can’t move…”

“Shh, you just lie there, baby, and cum when you need to, okay?” Jeno’s voice suddenly soft, you felt something warm spread across your stomach. “Yes, y-yes, alpha, trust you, wanna be good f’you, ah…” You cried softly as Jeno started sliding slowly in and out. “So good, alpha, so good, please, fuck me, oh god.” Jeno started picking up his pace, rendering you speechless, squeezing the back of Haechan’s neck as he jerked his hips up in sensitivity. “Oh my god, Haechan…” Burying your mouth into his neck, you felt a tap on your head as soon as you did, looking up in reflex. Haechan let go of your upper body, letting your hips roll against the two cocks now sliding in and out of you at a pace that was only getting faster. “Did you forget about me, honey?”

“N-no, Markie, ah…” Letting your chin rest against the arm of the sofa, Mark slid his cock easily down and out of your throat, letting the saliva messily drip all over his aching length. “Fuck, what a good cockslut. You think you can get me off again, hmm? Swallow it all like a good girl?”

You nodded, but a sharp smack to your ass made you shake and lose your balance, Jeno pulling you back onto his chest again. “Did you ask alpha for permission, brat?” You cried as Jeno pounded you ruthlessly, shaking your head and mumbling apologies in between moans. “What do you want, baby? Use your words. Or I swear to you I’m not letting you cum.”

“Mmm, wanna suck Markie’s cock, alpha, ah! And…swallow his cum, oh, fuck!” Haechan pushed his length harder into you as Jeno pushed your hips down. “Fuck, alpha, fuck, want you and H-Hyuckie to fuck me while I do it, please, please…” You sobbed as Jeno released you, seemingly happy with your words as he snapped his hips into you. “Oh my god…” Your eyes rolled to the back of your eyes, feeling Mark bringing your near his cock as the pleasure made your legs vibrate. “Hang on, baby. Cum with my cock in your mouth.”

“Alpha, cum, please!” You cried, voice disappearing as you choked around Mark’s thick length. Jeno tapped the back of your hips, mumbling something in support just as soon as you saw white, feeling your own juices spray uncontrollably and your hole constrict as you came around both of them. Haechan cursed as he filled you with his own thick release, Jeno pressing you down as he came into you seconds later. Mark used your mouth as you weakened gradually, muttering sweet praises as he shot his load down your throat, the bitter taste waking you out of your trance.

As you heaved, you wrapped your arms around Haechan, feeling multiple hands rub up and down your bare back. “That’s a good girl. Good job, baby.” You nodded, closing your eyes and drifting off, your body and mind well and truly spent.

∞

“Hey, you alright?” Chenle looked at you with a hint of concern, not clear whether it was directed at you or at his makeup that was now looking a little bit unusual. You shook your head with the tiniest movements, tapping his cheek again with a pale blush. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just don’t move your head.”

“Fine. You just seem different today.”

“I’m okay. Just a low energy day.” Beside you, Haechan and Jeno shared the smallest side glance, Mark smirking at himself as he changed behind the mirrors.

“Big night?” Chenle smiled at you through the mirror as you scurried around the drawers, looking for the angled eyeshadow brush, his hands adjusting his hair to his liking. You sighed, a true muscle fatigue-likes feeling spreading through your body and getting worse with each client. You were actually so tired, and, unprofessionally, not hiding it very well.

Then again, you were probably doing something that would be considered generally much more unprofessional, so you didn’t let it bother you too much.

“You could say that.” You slammed one drawer a little too hard, apologising immediately to the drawer and then rolling your eyes in frustration and embarrassment. “I-I think I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick. I’ll be back.”

As your heels clacked away, getting softer and softer, Chenle got up, letting the salon cape fall away from him. “What’s up with her?” He mumbled to no one in particular before walking away. Mark soundlessly nodded to Jeno and Haechan, a nonverbal assurance that he would be outside, and Jeno patted Haechan’s shoulder as left shortly after, leaving only Haechan in that small backstage room.

As Haechan stared at his reflection in the mirror, makeup done and hair only half, he opened his lips, letting some tension escape his body.

He thought about you.

How maybe his little white lie didn’t technically hurt anyone in the end.

Technically.

Technically, you were the one who got fucked (in a good way) and got the money for translating poison.

Technically, you did write it. Just not from scratch.

Technically, you were also into that.

But so was he.

He remembered how embarrassed he was when you first found out, and what you said to make him feel better.

“Oh Haechan, don’t worry about it. Don’t let me kinkshame you.”

How right you were in the end.

[mxigo]

i remember everything (wish i didn't, but i do) | part 3

SERIES SYNOPSIS: logan saved the timeline, but the consequence is that he doesn't remember anything after 1973. now back in 2023, he has missed 50 years of history. including any history of your relationship with him.

WARNINGS: 18+, angst, swearing

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

MINORS & AGE-LESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. YOUR AGE MUST BE SOMEWHERE IN YOUR BIO OR YOUR BYF.

SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT CHAPTER (COMING SOON)

Finding sleep that night was impossible. You tossed and turned for hours feeling like the darkness was too much and not enough all at once. Every time you rolled onto Logan’s side, your nose was plagued with his lingering scent, sending you into a spiral over and over again.

The next morning wasn’t any easier. While you would have liked nothing more than to continue rotting away in your room and ceasing to exist, you had classes to teach. Getting out of bed took a herculean effort, and your eyes were still puffy from your trip to the lake. You felt essentially hollow while you got ready for the day. You didn’t listen to music, or hum to yourself, or even break the perpetual frown that had taken root on your face. There just was simply no point.

You dressed in your usual flared black slacks and white button up with black heels, rolling the sleeves up to just below your elbow. Then, before leaving, you grabbed the stack of papers you had graded before you left for your mission.

One of the things that you liked about teaching here was that because of the relatively small number of students compared to a usual boarding school, your classroom sizes were small, and you only had three of them to teach. You taught upper-level American Lit classes with a fusion in creative writing that gave your students a bit of freedom in their assignments. And you enjoyed reaching these kids. You wouldn’t trade it for anything.

The hallways were bustling with kids rushing and meandering to their next classes. You didn’t really pay mind to any of them as you made your way to your classroom on the other side of the mansion. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a few of the children side eying you, trying to gauge you and what had transpired in the last twenty-four hours. It wasn’t until you reached the bottom floor did one of them, or rather, a former student, interrupt your solitary walk.

Rogue only joined in silence down the hallway, remaining quiet next to you. While you never did teach her as you had been brought into the fold just a couple years after she had graduated, Rogue became pseudo-sister to you in a sense. Despite the attempt for a cure, she came out stronger and more solidified in herself.

You sighed as you opened the door to your classroom, checking to see if she was still behind you. “Do you need something, Rogue?”

“I heard what happened.” Your heart ached.

“Who hasn’t?”

“If you wanna talk about it—”

“I really don’t want to talk about it, Rogue. That’s the thing. Right now, I’d rather just forget about all that’s happening right now and try to find my sense of peace again.”

The girl gave a sad smile when you turned around. Her hair was pulled back, letting the white streak hang down on its own.

“Well, in that case, would you rather spend your time forgetting at White Raven tonight? I’ve got nothing better to do.”

At that, you raised an eyebrow. It had been a while since you and Rogue had the chance to really catch up and just relax at the local dive, and it actually sounded pretty damn good right about now.

“Who’s driving?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“I’ve got it covered. Don’t worry about it,” is all she said with a ghost of a smirk before disappearing down the hallway into the sea of students.

You were gonna regret agreeing to that, you just knew it.

The rest of the day went by uneventful, thankfully. No other students tried to pry into your relationship status with Logan, and you were able to forget about life for just a moment while teaching about significant pieces of literature during the Civil War.

The sun was just setting behind the trees when there was a knock on your bedroom door while you were putting on a pair of earrings.

 “It’s open!” you shouted, expecting Rogue to be on the other side, here to pester you.

But the universe loved to play jokes on you.

The door opened slowly to reveal Logan holding a bag, and your heart sank while your eyes widened in shock. He peaked in like a timid cat, looking at you like he knew he was stepping over a boundary. He stood awkwardly in the doorway, glancing around the room.

“Do you need something, Logan?”

“Uh, yeah. I just wanted to grab some clothes actually. I only grabbed so many, and uh, kinda running low.”

“Oh. Yeah, go ahead,” you answered, turning back to the floor length mirror to finish getting ready.

You watched out of the corner of your eye as he meandered into your once shared room. He looked over your pictures on the dresser briefly before pulling open his drawers, grabbing some random t-shirts and jeans, stuffing them into the bag. You all but forgot you were getting ready as he stopped and picked up the picture of the two of you at your sister’s wedding just a couple years ago.

It was probably the one picture where Logan was publicly showing affection. The photographer had managed to capture a moment when the both of you were in the center of the dance floor, slowly dancing with the rest of the guests, but it was the way that he looked at you that gave you butterflies just looking at it. He had this soft smile on his face as you rested your head on his chest, your arms wrapped around his neck while his rested on your hips.

It was that night that you were certain that you would be with him for the rest of your life.

Logan set the picture back down, breaking you out of your memory trance. You went back to fixing your hair, trying to push down the wave of tears that threatened to make an appearance at remembering what you lost.

He shut the drawers, his bag full. Before he walked out, though, you spoke up again.

“I can just pack up the rest of your clothes for you, if you want.”

Logan froze just in front of the door, his head turned slightly towards you. He took one step back, meeting your eyes, looked to the dresser, and then back to you.

“Only if you want to,” is all he said before walking out and disappearing down the hallway, closing the door behind him.

~

You were still confused an hour later when you and Rogue were sitting at the far corner of the bar in White Raven, staring through a vodka soda as your finger traced the glass. Rogue was talking about something, but you weren’t quite paying attention until a foot nudged yours. You finally looked up to find her leaning forward and staring at you.

“Earth to Halo, come in.”

You rolled your eyes, letting your hand drop and leaned back into the wooden chair.

“You were saying?”

“You don’t even know what I was talking about.”

“Sure I do. You were talking about one of your classes.”

She gave you a look. “Not even close, sugar.”

You sighed, wiping your hand down your face.

“Can you blame me? There’s a lot on my mind right now.”

“Yeah, and that’s exactly the reason we’re here. To forget about that shit for the night and just be girls again.”

You let your head roll to the side as you raised an eyebrow, considering her words.

“Fine. A round of shots and drinks, and I’ll focus on forgetting.”

“Right away,” she grinned, throwing a wink before looking over towards the bartender to grab his attention.

You sighed, leaning back into the barstool. You couldn’t help but let Logan’s words run on repeat in your head, trying to understand what he meant. He still had feelings for Jean, so there was no reason to still have his clothes in your shared dresser, in your shared room, but he said it was up to you, which made no sense. A small ember of hope wanted to grow warmer, but you refused to let it get any hotter. Things would never be the same between the two of you, and you refused to give yourself hope when heartbreak was inevitable.

It was only a minute longer before two more shots and drinks were set down in front of you and Rogue. The Jameson and peach schnapps looked at you mockingly, and you grimaced at the offending cup as you picked it up. Rogue did the same, catching your reaction.

“What? Don’t like green tea anymore?”

“I’m getting too old for this shit,” you answered before knocking the mix back, taking it in one big gulp. Your faced screwed up as it burned going down, setting the plastic cup across the bar for the bartender to pick up.

Rogue took hers like a champ, as always, shaking her head at the feeling of the burn. “You’re not even that much older than me, Halo, stop acting like you’re my meemaw.”

“I’m old enough for this to bite me in the ass later tonight, and you know it.”

“I do, but that’s why I’ve got a ride arranged for us later.”

You raised your eyebrow at the younger woman, taking a sip from your drink. “You still haven’t told me who it is.”

“And I don’t need to because you’ll be too trashed to give a damn. Now drink!”

The rest of the night melted into a blur as Rogue continued to order shots and drinks for the two of you. She rambled about a mutant that she met on a mission down in Louisiana, and you basically acted like you were listening, but you let your mind drift to Logan once again. It wasn’t like you could just flip a switch in your mind and force yourself to forget about him. You were married, and he was easily the only man that loved you as passionately and deeply as he did, and having that man basically die and still walk around in the same body was going to fuck you up for God knows how long. Maybe forever.

“Haaaaalooooo, you’re nawt listenin’ again.” Rogue’s southern twang was slipping out like it normally did when she wasn’t thinking, or in this instance, drunk. Even though she was the one that enjoyed going out and getting hammered, she did it much faster than you.

“I’ve just got a lot on my mind, Rogue. It’s hard to concentrate these days.”

Her eyes widened, and she leaned forward, drink still in hand.

“Oh, dear God, here I am, r-runnin’ my mouth about men, and I’m nawt even thinkin’ about you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad that you’re seeing someone after how things with Bobby ended.”

She became a bit closed off at that comment, letting her eyes drop to the clear liquid in her cup. Her breakup with Bobby was nothing pretty or simple, and both were hurt in the process, but especially Rogue was. Her fears of his feelings for Kitty turned out to be true, but that hadn’t manifested until much later after the breakup, but it still rubbed salt in the wound.

In a way, it was how you felt now about Logan and Jean.

“Yeah, I am too,” she whispered, taking another sip on the straw when her phone began to vibrate on the bar top.

A ridiculous picture of Logan flashed on the screen with his name on top for an incoming call, to which she answered and put him on speaker.

“Hi, Log! Halo and I are still at the bar.”

“I know, I’m outside. You said to pick the two of you up at midnight when it closed.”

Your heart dropped right into your stomach, and your head snapped over to your friend, eyes wide. Rogue, oblivious to your fury, still looked at the phone and continued to talk.

“Right, right. We’ll be out in a minute. Gotta close out. Byyyyye.” She hung up, then turned down the bar to grab the bartender’s attention, still unknowing.

Why the fuck would she ask Logan to pick you up? She couldn’t have asked any other mutant other than the man of the fucking hour?

The bartender placed your tabs down in front of the two of you, to which you threw down some twenties and called it a night. Rogue was still oblivious as she got up from her seat, but you grabbed her wrist, stopping her in her tracks.

“You asked Logan to DD for us? Why not Scott, or Ororo, or fucking Piotr?”

Her face screwed up before she laughed at your panic.

“Because he offered.”

“What the hell do you mean he offered?”

“I meeeaaan, he overheard me ask Scott to drive us, but when Scott said he was busy, Logan offered to drive us instead. It’s just a fifteen-minute ride back to the mansion, Hay. It won’t kill you.”

Your mouth dropped as she all but sauntered up to the front door, leaving you behind. You couldn’t help but groan aggressively in frustration, following her out the door.

Lo and behold, driving one of the many cars of Xavier’s, was Logan leant up against the sleek black paint of still-running vehicle. Rogue stumbled out of the door happily, a drunk smile plastered on her face as she approached her father figure. Logan looked down at her warmly as she stopped in front of him, swaying a bit on her feet.

“Looks like you had a bit to drink.”

“Well I could have had more if someone,” she turned her head to throw a look at you over her shoulder, “had let us start off hard like we used to.”

“One of us has to be semi-responsible when we’re out together, and it was my turn.”

“You only say that for reasons I can’t talk about right now,” she mumbled as she opened the car door and climbed into the backseat.

An awkward silence stretched into the night as her words hung in the air. It wasn’t hard to figure out what she was referring to, and Logan spent more than just a second staring at the ground where Rogue’s feet were before looking at you. A guilty look passed over his face as he took in your less than trashed appearance.

“Sorry for uh…keeping you from enjoying yourself.”

“Don’t feel so flattered,” you retorted as you went to climb into the backseat as well, only to find the other woman sprawled out on the leather seats, completely passed out.

Fuck it.

You pushed past Logan and pulled the handle to the front passenger seat, dropping in and all but slamming the door closed. You wanted nothing more than for this night to be over and evaporate it from your recent memory.

Logan’s bootfalls crunched upon the gravel parking lot as he walked around to the driver’s side, opened the door, and settled in. He shut the door behind him, and pulled out of the parking lot, leaving White Raven behind you. You focused everything to not focus on him and the fact that you were now in a car, essentially by yourselves as Rogue was out cold in the backseat. You couldn’t help but wring your hands continuously as you fought to look at him, keeping yourself to staring out the window. It’s only been a couple days, but your body already missed being so close to him, and it ached not being able to touch him. Hence, you were wringing your hands to simulate the sensation.

You could feel Logan’s gaze weigh heavy on you. It caused your hair to stand on end on your neck. In a moment of weakness, you let your eyes glance over to him, just to find that he had looked to your own at the same moment. Those hazel irises stared into yours so softly, yet intently. It stole the breath out of you, and you couldn’t help but stare back. He looked at you like he was taking you in for the first time and understanding who was in front of him.

And of course, it was at this moment that Rogue decided to wake up.

“Are we home yet?” she groaned, leaning into the space between the driver and passenger seat, snapping the two of you out of whatever trance you had been in.

You jumped, snapping your gaze from his and forced yourself to go back to staring out the window.

“Yeah, Rogue, just a few more minutes,” Logan mumbled.

The rest of the drive back to the mansion, you still felt his eyes on your form.

a/n: tbh i have no idea what this is, just kinda threw it together before the motivation disappeared

~

taglist: @facelessfionna @pop-rocks-and-skittles @littledebbieinabigworld @levislegislation @bontensbabygirl @bubblegumholland @droopingdatura @lulawantmula @badbishsblog @spideybv28 @labellapeaky @annagraceevanss @khaylin27 @enchantedbutterflies @officiallydumbass123 @madloveformurdock

if i didn't tag you, please make sure you have an age in your bio. if you do and i still didn't, dm me and i'll make sure to add you to the next one.

[lxvvie]

A Street Fighter!Simon entry:

"I should've killed him," is what Simon grunts out, the first thing he's said since showing up at your doorstep. It made your blood run cold.

You hadn't seen him in weeks (and not for lack of trying on your part) and when he knocked on your door, you... shit, he's seen better days. Poor bastard probably hadn't had a good night's sleep in a while, one eye was bruised and damn near swollen shut, his lip was split, his crooked nose was bandaged, his knuckles bloodied, and he looked somewhere between apathetic and pissed off. Which one, you couldn't tell.

And when he silently walked in, sat down on your couch, and lit a cigarette, you were damn near tempted to rip him a new asshole before he looked at you and... and—"What the hell's wrong with you?" You'll mentally slap yourself for that one later, but the way Simon looked at you—through you, rather—made sure your rant died a quick, painless death.

You've never seen such dead eyes on a living person before.

Simon didn't say anything, he just... turned away. Turned away, nursed his cigarette, and let the smoke burn his throat and hurt him better than any fight ever could. You hesitantly took a seat next to him, torn between wanting to break the silence and wondering if it would be worth the risk, but Simon made that decision for you, well after the discomfort made it all tangible.

"I almost killed him," is the second thing Simon says, and you thought it best to just let your silence speak for itself.

"...The rat fuck didn't think I had it in me. He kept hitting her. Wouldn't stop. Tommy tried. Got hit, too. Then I hit him." You didn't like how nonchalant he sounded. You wanted to ask him what he meant, but—

"I didn't stop." What?

"Simon—" "Shouldn't have stopped. They shouldn't have stopped me." "Simon... what are you—" "—I wish I never stopped—"

"HEY!" You winced at how loud you sounded. Hope the neighbors don't complain about that one but you can't be too sure. It didn't bother Simon none, though. He just... stared at you. Stared as if he'd noticed you for the first time. "What are you... Who are you talking about? What is—What happened to you?" You rambled and it sounded nonsensical to your ears.

Didn't bother Simon none. Nonsensical was his middle fucking name.

"Does your old man love you?" Simon grunts out, well after staring, well after finishing his first and lighting his second cigarette. That you saw. You couldn't answer that question. Didn't want to answer that question. Didn't want to stir the pot anymore than you already had. Which wasn't much. It was enough for Simon, though.

You let your silence speak for you.

He turned away and exhaled the smoke. He was tired. Tired of this shit. Tired of his family. Tired of the bloody silence. He asked you yet again, wanting answers, wanting to be rid of it all, wanting to break the silence.

"Does he love you enough to stay the fuck away?"

You didn't think you had it in you to answer him, not as you were connecting the dots.

And still, your silence spoke for you.

[aguacatetoast]

Christmas Cookies

Female Reader x Monkey D. Luffy

A/N I don't really write fluff but I really hope you guys like it!!<3 Merry Christmas to those who celebrate:)

Warnings: None pure fluff!!

Word count:1,061

(Likes and reposts are greatly appreciated!<3)

You bake Christmas cookies with Luffy on christmas eve!

You rarely had the kitchen to yourself, but when you did you let the chef know in advance. Today was one of those days, Sanji had finished cleaning up after the Christmas feast and let you know the kitchen was free to use and wished you Goodluck. The reason being, that you were going to bake with Luffy.

You knew better than anyone just how gluttonous your boyfriend can be, but he always insisted on being by your side while you baked. His reasoning was that he liked to 'help' you, when in reality it was just you scolding him and swatting away his stretchy hands from eating all the raw cookie dough, and this time was no different. "Luffy!! Don't eat that, the raw ingredients can make you sick" you scolded him as his face was already covered with the flour and dough. His mouth was stuffed with the cookie dough as he spoke "But I'm hungryyyyy" he moaned as if he hadn't stuffed down a Christmas feast. You roll your eyes at him "Luffy you just ate like 30 pounds of meat and you're still hungry?" His stomach growled right after you asked that, he pouts slightly and pats his stomach "See? I wasn't lying."

You couldn't help but laugh at how cute he was begging for the cookie dough. He looks at you pouting and with pleading puppy eyes. "Okay fine... I'll give you some more cookie dough, but that's it because we need to leave some for Santa." His eyes lit up as you gave into his begging and immediately swallowed whole the sugar cookie dough you gave him. His cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk. You made more cookie dough, rolled it out, and started using Christmas cookie cutters to get the right shapes. Luffy was having a blast using his gum gum Gatling move to cut the cookies faster, the room was filled with his laughter.

After putting a batch of cookies to bake, Luffy is sitting by the oven admiring them and impatiently waiting for them to be ready. You hear him slightly groaning and muttering how the cookies are taking too long to bake. You ruffle his hair and smile "Be patient...they're almost done" He groans again "This is taking so long..." You come over with two mugs of hot cocoa and hand him one, "Here, to make the wait easier" He swipes the mug away from you and grins "Thanks! You're the best" He sips it slowly since it was piping hot, but that didn't stop him from trying to chug it.

After a few more sips of the hot cocoa, the timer indicating that the cookies are ready rings and he jumps up, "They're ready!!" You make your way to the oven and carefully place them on a cooling rack. "Careful babe, you'll burn yourself" but he was practically drooling over them. He ended up stealing one although you warned him, and he was trying to play it off "I-It's not that hot..." You saw how red his face was and smiled at how stubborn he is.

-

After the cookies cooled off, you had set a variation of decorations. Things such as various colors of icing, sprinkles, gummy, candies, and colored sugar. As you set your half of cookies on one side, you set his half on the other side. You called him "Babe the cookies are ready to decorate!" He rushes in and immediately grabs an icing bag. Noticing how eager he is you ask,"Oh how are you going to decorate your cookies?" He snickers and looks at you "It's a surprise...just wait and see." You were still extremely curious as you watched him gently squeeze and spread the frosting on the cookies, but you knew he wouldn't budge if you continued to ask, so you let him concentrate. You started playing some Christmas music as you decided to start decorating the cookies you'd leave out for Santa.

After an hour, you finally finished. You tried your damn hardest to make the cookies as precise and jolly as you could. You admired the decorations you made, the Christmas trees, the snowflakes, and the Santa hats. But you were so focused and in your zone you had forgotten about Luffy. You turned to look at him as he has a prideful grin on his face, and you saw the mess he made and the frosting all over his face, and he even had some in his hair. "Check it out! what do you think?" He moved away from hiding his cookies and let you see the surprise design he made. You felt an overwhelming sensation in your chest as you saw the surprise design he made was actually everyone in the crew.

You saw all the hard work he put into the cookies and admiring how adorable everyone came out, noticing sanjis extra curly eyebrow, and Zoro's face being grumpier then ever. You felt him looking at you for approval on how he did, when you turn to look at him "Luffy...these are the cutest cookies I've ever seen, you did amazing." His eyes lit up at your praise and he smiled, "Really you like em' that much?" You giggle softly as he pulls you closer by the waist "I love em', who knew you were such an artist." His laugh bubbles out loud when he pulls you even closer, "Let's leave our cookies and milk out for Santa..." You kiss him softly and admire that sweet excited expression he has all over his face, "Whatever you say Cap."

With that, you two set up a little table on the deck outside on a sunny, placing a mix of both of your cookies and a glass of milk. He smiles and looks at you while placing the cookies neatly before speaking up, "Wait... I wanted to eat this one" He points at the one he made of you. You felt your cheeks heat up a bit "You wanna eat me?" He nodded eagerly "Uh-huh! It's my favorite cookie out of all of 'em!" You couldn't say the cookie he made of you, "Of course babe...whatever you want." You saw as he devoured your cookie,

He wrapped one of his arms around you pulling you as close as possible to him and you hear him say "This was the best Christmas ever!"

-

[hyewka]

Because I’m currently pissed off ive decided to manifest it into positive energy 🙂!!! I present to you a scenario of very loud and annoying neighbour Yeonjun, like just criminally loud neighbour throughout every. single. night. Absolutely no rest ever since he moved in.

warnings: sub!yeonjun, grinding, slapping lol, dacryphilia, noona kink sorta

On good days, it’d be what you think is him producing music because at least your walls aren’t vibrating. Worst days? It would hands down be the ragers he throws practically every week as if he was still in college. Sex being a close second—to give credit, he has toned it down the past couple of weeks.

“We take your complaints very seriously, but please cut him some slack Miss. He’s still in college you know how…they get,” So…he is still in college. And to the newfound information, you guess he’s also under twenty three. It explains… a lot. “Between you and me, he’s practically scraping to get money for rent enough as it is.”

You hold back a scoff and instead try to be empathetic so you give your best attempt at a smile to the office worker. You could handle a few months of sleepless nights before he’s eventually evicted, can’t you?

So, just like that, you give up the weekly complaints you send to the landlord.

…Is what you chose to believe as you try your hardest to drown out the noise next door, pillow pressed against your ear with sheer strength before you finally give out, groaning with agony. If you can’t get anybody to listen to your complaints, then who will?

Communication.

Like a light bulb lit above your head you scramble out of your bed, not in the mood to change out of your nightgown, slipped on your slides, and you were now prepared to pay a visit to your more than lovely neighbour, Choi Yeonjun.

You knock a few times. No response.

Before you could get your tenth knock the door swings open to reveal the monster who has been tormenting you for the last few months. You hold up a polite smile, though your eyes unintentionally trail down to his exposed collarbones. A white tank top, a white tank top, a white— “Hey?”

Your eyes widen, getting flustered as you clear your throat, straightening your posture. “Um, so, hi! As you know I’m—"

“Y/N, neighbour 331.” Your brows raise impressed that he actually knew. “The one who’s been submitting complaints on me every Friday, right?”

Oh. He does not like you. Your smile falters for a second before you compose yourself and nod. “I just wanted to come to you instead of going to the landlord tomorrow morning, think it’s better if we communicate.”

He contemplates for a second before nodding, arms crossed lazily, eyes urging you to continue. “…I want to communicate that I am not very…appreciative of the noise every night. Well, I’m sure you already know—and I wish for you to turn it down a notch.”

Yeonjun gives you a tight smile, eyes turning into crescents, with his hand placed behind his door. “Sure.” —is all he says before the door’s slammed shut in your face.

Not taking into account the rudeness of what he just did, you think that was a success. So you take a second to commend yourself and pat yourself on the back, heading to your flat.

To your luck, he goes through with his word and actually keeps it down.

For one night.

You think maybe if you go knocking enough times, he'd follow through each time (which he does) and eventually learn to turn it down without you telling him to (which he doesn't).

You're faced with him again, patience holding by a thread, "Keep. It. Down." you grit out the moment his door opens, eyes with intention to kill.

"Damn. Okay. You can chill out."

And then again.

"Turn your TV down."

And...again.

"I would appreciate it if you turned it down a bit."

It was a daily thing to get up from the comfort of your bed and storm up to his door, your knuckles bruising from the abundance of times you banged on his door.

"At this point, might start thinking you're really into me." You stare at him in disbelief, mouth hung open not able to process the absolute audacity. You're even more pissed when he cheekily points out: "You're drooling."

You immediately shut your mouth before rolling your eyes to absolute oblivion. You hate his guts. Even more when you wipe at your mouth experimentally and do in fact find that he wasn't lying. "Just—just turn it down!"

You truly did not like him, nothing more nothing less. You couldn't even find him more than averagely attractive so there definitely weren't any underlying feelings. You just thought he was way too incredibly cocky for your taste, too unbothered of his surroundings; to you it looked like all that mattered to Yeonjun was himself. Which is a big turn off.

You were definitely all too aware of the numerous times his eyes would, with absolutely no shame, look you up and down, not caring to be discreet about checking you out. Each time you'd scoff, because god, does he remind you of all the reasons you hated college.

You didn't think he was at peak of childishness until the one time you saw Yeonjun arriving at his door as you struggled to key your door open with your sort-of-boyfriend slash co-worker Doyoung (which was another issue you had to deal with all around) beside you, waiting to finally finish off what you started back at his car.

"Hey, hey let me try." Doyoung offers and you let him, awkwardly making way for him to attempt to open your jammed door.

It wasn't hard to feel Yeonjun's quick glances over at you before he says nothing and disappears into the black hole that was his flat. When you came over to his door the next day, the daily reminder to keep it quiet, he does one of his cheesy fuck boy lines from a 2000s movie without fail. Except he doesn't end it there.

He asks you a question you would've snorted at if it wasn't for the fact that it wasn't very humorous to have an annoying neighbor busying themselves with your personal life.

"Was that your boyfriend? Yesterday?" His very weird attempt at keeping his voice monotone and almost nonchalant has you puzzled...not in a good way.

You resort to not answering his question. You didn't have to. "From a scale of one to ten, how valuable is that information to you? It's supposed to be zero lovely neighbour."

"Well, you—you should keep it down next time," he starts, and you're confused. No way. "Couldn't sleep with all the bed creaking."

You could've even retort back and say something like 'oh, now you know how I feel', too embarrassed to say anything before just storming to your door. You did not like Choi Yeonjun.

At all.

All of that was before being stuck in an elevator with a more than a nervous wreck plus one.

"Can you calm down? They'll be here in like, less than a few minutes." You aren't too great at comforting, clearly, as he gets a lot more jittery. "Fuck! It's been five entire minutes!” —Not true. “What if—what if we just die in here, holy shit holy shit." Yeonjun was spiraling as he tries to pace in the confined space, eyes wide with panic, biting down on his bottom lip practically breaking down right in front of your eyes.

"Hey, hey look, just sit. On the floor. Calm down, and collect yourself."

To your surprise, he stops pacing, for a second looks at you before taking a breath and slumping down to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest. You decide to also sit down, albeit, the awkward distance between the two of you making it less than comfortable. It feels like a few minutes before your ears pick up little sniffles.

Oh well, shit. He was crying. You attempt to not look at him, he was clearly more than vulnerable but your eyes can't help but slowly trail to your side. The confident, cocky neighbor you've had to deal with for the past five months was indeed crying.

Your perception of Yeonjun changes in an elevator that day, just a tiny bit. When he starts to apologize through his sobs, that had quickly picked up sound, you feel something. "Sorry, sorry, I'm just—fuck—"

"What happened?" You don't care, you think you don't, but you still end up asking. And listening.

"Don't judge." he says with that slight break of his voice and you nod.

Your eyes dart back and forth, hyper focused on every feature of his face as he turns to you, venting all of his worries to someone he most likely finds annoying the same way you find him—red runny nose, fox-like eyes already turning bloodshot, the way his perfectly trimmed brows furrow every few sentences like he was thinking over what he should reveal to a stranger that hates him, or his quivering bottom lip whenever he'd take a second to take a breath—your perception of him had definitely changed. Just a tiny bit.

You have no idea what possessed you to reach your thumb out for under his eyes—to wipe. Like you knew him at all. As if he wasn't the neighbor who had been the cause of all the sleepless nights you experienced. It was something about his pouty lips, pinkish tone from all the crying, making you behave so oddly. “Thanks…” Yeonjun’s strained whisper combined with his tears bordering his waterline had got you even more entranced and holy shit— you quickly retract your hand from his face, instead focusing on bright yellow light on your floor number.

“Mhm.” It was a panic hum, like any minute now you would do a very impulsive and frankly out of character thing.

But thankfully his paranoia was proven to not be true as just a few minutes go by before the elevator doors open to reveal someone from what you assume to be the rescue service.

When you get out, Yeonjun is rather quick to go to his flat, avoiding all small talk and shutting his door behind him almost as quick as he ran to it. And as for you, all night is spent sleepless once more. And the cause being once again, Yeonjun. Except it's not his music, his movies, or sex. He keeps oddly quiet that day. No, it's the short dream you have that scares you awake.

Yeonjun. Crying. And a sex dream. Oh you were fucked up.

Not only does that dream scare you wide awake for an entire night, it also scares you from ever approaching his door again. Or when you see him down at the laundry room, or at the elevator, or—

At your door?

When you open to the persistently annoying knock, you don't expect it to be your neighbor. In his signature frat look, a backward cap hanging on his head. "Hey—"

"What do you want?" You cut him off.

"Oh, well, straight to the point, um—Was here to tell you that I'll be throwing a party in just a few hours. So it'll get loud. And I won't be able to turn it down. Sorry."

"Okay." you simply say before adding, "Thanks for giving me a heads up I guess." You attempt to give a smile before shutting your door but Yeonjun stops you with the intervention of his foot between the door and the frame.

"Also. Question.” You quirk a brow. “This is probably really weird to ask because we don't even know each other, but, are you avoiding me? I feel like you are. Was it because of my …crying?" He whispers the last part like its some sacred omen.

"Huh?"

"What happened at the elevator. Can’t you—can’t you just forget about that? I mean I have no idea if you’re avoiding me because of it, but I feel like you are and I don’t know, I just need a confirmation. It’s driving me fucking insane and, and as a man—”

God, you’d do anything to not be the victim of a macho man attempting to explain how weak it is to shed a few tears. So you reveal the reality that you are currently living in. A reality where you dreamed about fucking Choi Yeonjun, A.K.A someone you would consider a mortal enemy by this point.

“I had a sex dream.” It’s the first time you see him taken aback, blinking rapidly, clueless of what you just said. “About you.” you confirm, pursing your lips at the few seconds of silence that followed after. Presuming he has nothing to say to you look down at his foot that was the sole reason you hadn’t shut the door yet.

He scrambles, flustered when he realizes, moving his feet, an incredulous chuckle leaving his lips right after, “Um, yeah, sorry— a sex dream? About me? Huh. I always knew—” With dread, you slam the door shut before he could get another word in, the last thing you see being a smug grin on his face with the newly found information settling in and god you just want to rip your hair out— the absolute last thing you wanted to do was feed his ego. Which you had clearly served to have done.

You choose to huddle up on your couch, watching a random Netflix show to pass time on your vacation day but the show’s too uninteresting so you inevitably end up spacing out.

You’re not entirely sure why you’ve been particularly childish about the dream. Especially since you’ve had awkward sex dreams before, the one about your fuck-ass boss taking the number one spot for most traumatizing. But you’ve never actively ignored anyone or even gave it a second thought other than “Holy shit that was weird.”

So, your subconscious leads you to believe you resorted to avoidance due to the contents of your dream. Said contents being you… dominating a man. Roped up cocky Yeonjun at mercy of every feather touch, squirming in his restraints, face a teary mess with his hair plastered onto his forehead from all the sweat, a ballgag drenched with his spit just to keep him shut, salivating dumbly down under his chin, the prettiest fucked out look, putting the little shit in his place and holy shit are you touching yourself?

Like some prude, you retract your hand out from under your pants and curse yourself at seeing your fingers stick because of your substance—Yeonjun was driving you crazy. And you hated it, he was at most five years younger than you and throughout your life span, you have never felt anything for a younger man—its always been a turn off. Especially when it shows. And with Yeonjun, oh it showed.

Even now as your reverie gets broken by an unrythmic knock similar to before, leading you to be faced by Yeonjun. For the second time today.

His stance is a lot different than an hour ago, almost like that one time on the elevator. “…Hey?” You start out with raised eyebrows.

Confused by his silence you assume what this was about, “I seriously don’t mind the party, I’ll be—”

Your eyes widen in surprise when Yeonjun’s lips crash on yours, roughly taking you up a wind before the realizations sets in the moment his hand start going places it should not be going. You bite down on his lip and he pulls away instantly, groaning, wide eyed, tears already springing on his waterline from the pain. He has the audacity to look offended as he yells with childish shriek of his voice, “What the hell?!”

“Are you insane? Who gave you the right to kiss me you fucking pervert?” You yell back, still shocked at his sudden advancement, finger lingering on your lips.

He visibly deflates with a knit of his eyebrows, eyes wide, "Um? You...you just told me you had a sex dream...of me."

"So?" you whisper-shout exasperated.

"I thought—"

You cut him off. "You thought what? I'd let you barge in here like some lead in a porno and...fuck me?"

He seems to think for a few seconds before literally...nodding, making you nearly gasp. "Well, sort of...yeah? I mean, women don't tell you that they've had a wet dream about you without trying to say something non-verbally." He seems almost proud when he says that, as if he has hundreds of experience in women psych.

Holy fuck. You dreamed about fucking this kid. A dumb frat whose probably got everything handed to him just because he was moderately pretty.

But maybe he wasn't too far off, because you find yourself stupidly attracted to his slightly bruised lip from your bite earlier, his eyes still glossy, iris looking up waiting for you to say something. Holy shit.

"How old are you?" If the age gap was bigger than three years—

"Turned twenty-three last September. Why?"

Two years. Oh fuck, to hell with it all.

You ignore his question and jump straight in the cold, freezing water. "How...much are you willing to do to...fuck me?" The question came out a lot more awkward than you intended.

He huffs out a laugh incredulously waiting for you to say that was a joke, but too much time has passed and now he's seriously thinking it over for a second. "Um...a lot? I don't know. I'm just super horny right now."

If you were in your right mind, you would've rejected him. Out the door he would've been because the way he drawled super had to have been the biggest turn off. But you were also a woman at mercy to her sexual desires. And right now, your sexual desire was Yeonjun.

"Okay," you exhale. "Sure. Let's fuck. But we're doing this my way."

-----

You surprisingly don't possess any toys...other than an unused dildo. You're not sure if he'd be too into that, or if you know him enough to even propose such an idea. So... you’re left empty handed; now all you had was your word and control.

And the slight age difference seemed to help it out too. “I-I’m—holy shit— I’m gonna cum noona, noona—"

Abruptly, you move from his neck that you were just lightly sucking on, hand once palming him over his sweats, retracted. He whines from the loss of friction, opening his shut eyes to give you the nastiest look as he tries to quickly bring back his high but he clearly fails when he groans, nearly feeling his eyes get teary. "Why the fuck would you do that?"

"I told you to stop calling me noona. Plus, I'm not gonna let you soil your pants the minute I get my hands on you."

Wild runs in his eyes and its unlike you’ve seen him. "Holy shit, you're so—" But it’s not intimidating. You cut him off by straddling his lap, and if you weren’t nicer you would’ve laughed at how fast his expression changed. Dumb kid.

He was totally awestricken, wetting his lips for a second until opening them again, "—fucking hot."

You strike a sharp blow across his face, the slap silencing him abruptly. His lips are slightly parted, confusion ridden in his features, his cheek quickly turning a shade of red, ears ringing—then you start grinding and his expression once again morphs into something sinfully pathetic, except this time he had those tears threatening to spill. “Don’t call me hot again. Understood?”

“It’s a fucking complim—”

You shove two fingers in his mouth to attempt of actually shutting this man up, and for a bit it serves to gag him until a lewd thought popped in your head. “Suck. Or I kick you out and you can jerk off your stupid dick alone.”

He immediately obeys, sucking on your two fingers, his saliva coating them. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was shifting his position and not attempting to buck his hips like a dumb rabid dog. He was getting off from this.

You were proven more when you start pumping your digits in his mouth, too fascinated at how he sucks in his cheeks, making eye contact, whining on your fingers. “Why’re you so frustrating? Could’ve been a good boy from the beginning.”

You rolled your hips into his more, his dick hardening you’re surprised he hasn’t complained yet. “When are we gonna fuck?” He whines when your fingers are out of his watering mouth.

Clearly, you speak too soon.

“Never if you keep being a fucking bitch. You know how much sleep I lost because of your idiotic shenanigans? Let me have my fun.”

A lot. He was insufferable the first three months, dark circles getting more deep set. Feeling anger bubble up, you move to roughly trailing wet kisses down his neck and goodness is he audible—his soft moans are truly music to your ears. “You’re loud.”

And it gets you to needily grind down on his bulge even more, your core aching. Unfortunately, he takes this as you scolding him to be quiet, and so for a second, he’s extremely quiet. “No, no, want you to be loud. Love your needy voice, such a pretty dumb boy.” you breathe, getting off on his lap.

You suck hard on a sensitive spot and he spasms, whimpering. “Noona—”

You bite down on his exposed shoulder and Yeonjun cries. “Told you to stop calling me that freak.”

“Don’t care, I wanna call you noona,” you swallow the lump in your throat because the honorific does spur you on his lap, “My noona.”

Your eyes widen, flustered hands raising to slap him again, which he doesn’t dodge. Hot cheeks so red from the two times you hit his pretty face, tears long spilling down them, is so much better than the dream—except his bratty smirk pulls you out of the fantasy. “Stop pushing it dumb frat.”

His hips buck to hump up against your pussy and you really start to think he enjoys getting slapped. “P-please, want your pussy. Been thinking about it all week.”

“All week?”

“Y-yeah, since that guy fucked you dumb, like a bitch.” If it weren’t for how distracted you were getting by his twitching dick in between your thighs, you would’ve given him another strike against his face—and maybe then he would’ve shut up for good.

“You want to fuck me like a bitch?” you slur in his ear in mock tone, “You?”

He furrows his brows, visibly getting haughty. “Yes, me. What about it?” he bites.

You whine at the cute knit of his brows, the pout that rests his pretty lips. You lean to kiss them, you’ve been thinking of doing that since the beginning—they looked so pillowy, soft, everything you could now feel as he eagerly returns the chaste mouth to mouth.

It’s quick to turn messy, spit smothered by the side of his lips when you cup his cheeks—then you let go, abruptly. Yeonjun tries to blindly chase your lips, but you’re unrelenting, working yourself on his lap. “You can’t fuck me like him Jjunie.”

“I can fuck your brains out, you—” He’s mid barking back at your statement, his ego clearly beaten down to the ground, but you do the next thing you’ve been dying to try—playing with his nipples. You graze them with your thumb when you’ve had your hands under his shirt for a good minute—a fact unnoticed by the man under you—and that gets him mewling. Mewling.

“F-fuck, don’t touch me there..”

“But I thought you could fuck my brains out?” you mock with a pout, “How come you get like this just by…”

You pinch his nipples slightly and he throws his back on the couch almost immediately, whimpering through his tightly closed lips. “Me touching your tits?”

“Don’t c-call them that.”

“Tits? But you like this don’t you?” you ask softly, studying every bit of a jerk, or a slight quiver of his bottom lip. He loved every second of this, but you needed him to tell you. You stop massaging his nips, removing your hand entirely from under his shirt, which gets his eyes to fly open, holding your wrist. “I do! I do. I like it when you play with my tits.” he says exasperated, raising your hand under his shirt again.

What a desperate whore.

You smirk, incredibly engrossed by his eagerness, and his swollen glistening lips from your brief makeout earlier. “Yeah?” you drawl, pressing on his bud just a tiny bit, and he nods. Thank god he was sensitive.

“Mhm.” he hums, still pathetically chasing your warmth. All he can think with is his dick.

“Thought about wrecking my tight, little pussy so bad all week, huh? Jerked off to the thought all week? Poor baby. Then I have to make it up to you today don’t I?” you know those words would make him act up more, getting him unbearably hard to the point its torture. And god, now your panties were uncomfortably sticking to your pussy.

“N-noona let me—let me—” Yeonjun’s crying more as the friction between your bodies gets too overwhelming for him— and gosh, does he look like such a dumb boy; none of his cocky stupid shit from earlier.

It was hot.

“Want my pussy?”

His nods are frantic, so much that you snort. “Yes, yes please. Wanted to fuck you dumb ever since you came over. You never gave me any attention, jus’ wanted to make a mess of you, cumming all over your tits—”

No way. He was a pervert from the beginning? You thought he hated your guts just as much as you did him. “Did that filthy fantasy give you a good enough reason to ruin my sleep schedule and ..and all my chances at a promotion? Huh? Because of you i can’t even dream of it—“

You were lying. Losing sleep had definitely affected your work performance but it wasn’t to the point you couldn’t aim for a little promotion. But you liked seeing his guilt pool in, crying, crying sooo pathetically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know noona, I swear.”

His hiccups are enough to get you to fasten your speed on his lap, the friction working to get you off.

“Yeah. Because your undeveloped brain can’t grasp at the real worlds consequence. I hate guys like you. So immature and dumb.”

That snaps something in him clearly as he finds the tongue to retort, “If you hated me you—you wouldn’t be getting off on my cock.”

You scoff, especially at picking up on the strained moan he tries to conceal, the shudder of his body giving away the orgasm. Choi Yeonjun just came. Untouched.

You could feel it between your legs, the warmth spread disgustingly all over and you grimace. “Gross.”

He groans out of embarrassment, hiding his face with an arm. And now you’re just sitting on his wet lap, contemplating two things. Kicking him out or getting to satisfy your needs?

Unfortunately, the banging on a door pauses your movement of unbuckling his jeans and you can’t hide the roll of your eyes. “Yeonjun! Are you home?!”

Convenient timing. Not.

You don’t let your disappointment show—he came and you hadn’t. You instead turn to face him, giving him a mocking smile, “You have a party to host ...oops.” And at least end it with the illusion you had the upper hand.

But Yeonjun is not as willing to give it up. “I don’t give a shit. I host these weekly,” Oh, you know. “…Can you at the least …let me eat you out?”

#############################

a/n; lol this got longer than i intended to the point i was thinking about naming it and getting it out as an actual fic but ehhhhh ill leave it raw 🥲 wish my shitty neighbor was yeonjun but we move 😁!!!!!

[xo-myloves]

I have another request but i dont wanna be the weird bitch who keeps asking for imagines lmao 😫😫😫😫 but like if you ever feel like it and you don't need to write it right now or anything BUT IF YOU WANT TO could you do a slash(him rn, oldie) imagine when y/n is friends with london and his relationship isnt going well so Y/N is like his young side bitch LMAO 👉👈😮‍💨 so whenever he fights with his wife he comes to you and like you cook for him and you watch movies etc and y/n makes him feel young and whatever else and HOT!!!!!!!!!!! I WANT THIS MAN NAKED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I really love your writing btw 🫶

it’s okay request as much as you want 😋

༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞��༞༞𝚂𝙸𝙳𝙴 𝙸𝚂𝙽𝚃 𝙰𝙻𝚆𝙰𝚈𝚂 𝙱𝙰𝙳༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞

I’ve been friends with this guy named London, he used to go to my high school until we graduated, and we stayed in touch, and guess fucking what, this motherfuckers dad was slash.

Yes the slash.

The fucking guitar player for Guns ‘N’ Roses, my favorite band of all time, I grew up on them, my dad basically raised me on them, and I even started playing guitar because of slash, and now I knew the fucker?

Did I tell London this? No fucking way, he would never let me over, it had to be obvious though, every time I go over there, I’m like a horny spaze over his father, and best believe when I graduated, I lived there basically, did slash have a wife. Yes.

That’s didn’t fucking stop me.

I would always be around him, like a lost puppy, London didn’t notice as much, but slash had too. It was pathetic, wearing subjective clothing, and showing off my breasts since I knew he had a thing for them, it’s not like I haven’t seen his instagram.

But it didn’t seem wrong, we were close, did his wife hate me? Fucking probably, but I honestly didn’t care, she was a bitch to him, and I know I could treat him better.

All I wanted was to be with that man, he was everything I ever wanted, he was a huge horror movie fan, loved music, fucking played the music I loved, and we loved a lot of the same topics, and when I would sleepover, I would go downstairs, knowing slash was a night owl, we would just sit on his couch and talk for hours.

Recently something has been off, London didn’t want to tell me, but I could tell slash and meegan were having problems, I heard them arguing earlier in the day, I tried to talk to him, but he pushed me away, he didn’t want to talk to anyone, it honestly made me upset.

All I wanted was to hold him and play with his hair and tell him how great he is, how he doesn’t deserve her, how I could be better. I can be better. I would be better.

And tonight was like any other night, I was sleeping over at Londons house, I was sitting in his room, bored as all hell, he was out, snoring and everything, so I made my way downstairs, originally wanting to get water, but kinda wishing slash was down there. Maybe I could talk to him about everything.

I tried to be quiet walking down the stairs, they were always so damn creaky.

As I made my way down to the stairs, I heard panting almost? I was confused, as I got to the bottom step, I saw the back of slash head, only his silhouette, since the TV was on, it lit him up.

But his head was throw back, and I realized he was the one that was panting, I got closer to only see him jerking himself off, my legs almost gave up on themselves.

My heat pooled, felt like it was going down my legs, I put my hand over my mouth, trying not to make a sound, but I had a wave of confidence go threw my body, and I walked right up to him, standing in front of him.

Trying not to cringe at myself, I hated being confident, but around him, I felt like I could.

“Oh shit, fuck, sorry.” Slash looked up in worry, covering himself, getting the blanket next to him, I started nodding my head “no” right away.

“No, no, no it’s okay, let me help.” I whispered the last part, sitting down next to him, he raised an eyebrow, I tried to put my head in his thigh and I wanted to rub it up to his member, but he stopped my hand with his.

His eyes went big, I could see his member through the blanket, my pussy was throbbing at this point, “y/n… come on, you know we can’t.” He had a smile on his face, it almost like he wanted too, but he knew he couldn’t.

I smiled at him back, there was so much sexual tension, it wasn’t even funny, are hands were still on top of each others, “slash, let me make you feel good.” I whined to him, squeezing his hand slightly, he looked around, then grabbed my waist, putting me in his lap, grabbing my face, and slamming his lips onto mine.

I felt euphoric. I felt like I was on cloud 9, I have always wanted this moment, for fucking years. Feeling his shaft under me, was… I couldn’t even explain.

His hands traveled to my ass, his hands were soft, yet rough, he massaged my ass softly, kissing down my neck, I couldn’t help myself from grinding on him, I saw his eyebrow go up, “you’re one eager little girl, aren’t ya?” He spoke in a soft deep tone.

“I can’t help it, I mean, look where we are.” I giggled, putting my hands around his neck, titling my head, looking into his eyes, before grinding one more time, it was so fucking amazing, I felt him. Since he only had the blanket under him.

“Can you be quiet?” He grinned, kissing my lips once more, slinging his hand that was previously on my ass to the front of my stomach, I looked down as he started to play with the hem of my shorts.

I nodded my head, biting my lips barely, all I needed was him. I needed something. Anything.

He smiled, pulling down my shorts, I lifted up, leaving them on the ground, leaving my only in my Lacey black thongs, his finger tips went down to my clit, playing with it so softly.

My lips parted at his action, my eyes had a glaze over them, he licked his lips, loving how he had me, only after a few touch’s. “Just stay quiet doll.” He smiled, laying a kiss my exposed neck.

I gave a small whimper in response, he brought his full fingers to my clit, rubbing it roughly now, his other hand was behind my neck now, making me look at him.

“Does this feel good honey?” He was so soft, so gentle. I loved every moment. “Yes, yes, it really does.” I whined, as he slide his fingers down to my entrance, teasing it softly, before slipping his middle finger into me.

Pumping it in and out, making me moan quietly, I gasped when he pushed his second digit into me. “Stay quiet, you don’t wanna get in trouble? Don’t ya? We wouldn’t want that now.” He smirked, bringing my head to the crook of his neck.

After he said those words, I was invested, I needed to know what “trouble” was, whatever it was or is, I needed it. Now.

Soooo I started moaning louder, louder than I should’ve, even though I was in his neck, it was definitely still audible, he pulled me by my hair to make me look at him.

“I told you to be quiet, now shut the fuck up.” He gritted through his teeth, I didn’t even notice that he took off the blanket, pulling his fingers out of me, whining at the lost of him, and then he just slammed into me, giving me now warning, and his thrusts were fast and hard.

He wasn’t stopping anytime soon.

My eyes shoot open, mouth parted wider, and I brought myself closer to him. He grabbed my ass, pounding into me, his hand that was on my hair, is now on my mouth, forcing me to be quiet.

Fuck this is going to be a long night.

𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙷𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙴𝚁

“FUCK SLASH, NO MORE, IM SO FUCKING SENSITIVE!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, we were in his bedroom now, he had me bent over his bed, still pounding into me, I already cummed four times…

I know.

I felt a hand slap my ass, and I went to look back, his head was fully back, his thrusts got sloppy, I knew he was close, finally.

He grabbed my hips, using me, not caring what I said, it’s not like it didn’t feel good. It was so much at once.

I loved every moment.

“S-SHIT FUCK.” His voice got higher, shooting his seed into me, coating my walls, my legs trembling, I felt his body weight in my back, after he came he just laid on top of me for a good minute. I giggled softly, at this action, he rolled over next to me, looking to the side at me.

“Well, that was…. Um, unexpected.” He chuckled, moving his hair off his sweaty forehead, grabbing my waist, bringing me closer to his sweaty torso. “ I’ve always wanted to do that.” I mumbled under my breath, he scooted up the bed, laying in the middle of the bed with me in his big muscular arms, his hair tickling my shoulder.

“I know, I know.” He laughed, kissing my cheek, before getting off the bed. “Where ya going?” I looked up, he smiled at me, “I’m fucking showering, I have too many body fluids on me.” I laughed at his joke, realizing he was right.

fuck that was a night.

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙽𝙴𝚇𝚃 𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶

after a good night sleep in slash’s arms, his shampoo filling my nostrils, having clean clothes on both of our body’s, I was worried his wife was going to walk in on us, but thank fuck she wasn’t coming home anytime soon, she went on a business trip or whatever slash said, I kinda zoned out.

While he was still sleeping like a baby, I decided to be the wife he should have, making him a hearty warm breakfast, when I started cooking the bacon, he immediately got up, walking to the kitchen.

“Are you cooking?” Slash said in a sleepy tone, leaning against the counter, tilting his head, with a big smile on his face, I nodded my head, not looking away from the pan, scared I was going to get burned.

I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist, and a kiss on my neck, “you doing this for me doll?” He spoke in a whisper tone, my heart felt so warm at his touch.

“I wanted to show you, I could be a better wife.” I heard a deep chuckle from him, making my panties getting wet all over again, even though my body was covered with bruises, hickeys, marks, anything imaginable.

“You proved that last night doll.”

(Sorry it took so long)

[dood-itsradical]

Bounty.

Pairing: Goo Kim x Gn!Reader

Summary: Bounty hunters are ok. Goo as bounty hunter? Not ok.

Genres: Action, comedy, can be viewed as platonic.

Details: 1.4k words, not proofread, martial artist!reader, reader is Malaysian bc I can, translations are placed at the end of the fic, cliffhanger ending.

A/n: Goo getting a proper oneshot by me?? Chat we winning! Reading Goo in Manager Kim HAD ME ON MY FUCKING KNEES and it sparks idea. This was originally supposed to be a drabble but it got long sooo, eat up! I don't do requests!

Masterlist

You don't know which idiot put a fucking bounty on you. First you hold grudge as you bound to find out who the culprit was. Eventually the people who hunt you down stole so much of your time, preventing you from doing so. It's not that they're any better than you are. They're just so many people willing to test their luck, that includes having a death wish.

"Boss, mee goreng satu!" You raised you hand to the local chef. He signaled back an 'OK' as you take a sit on the plastic chair. The homie atmosphere hits your nose with your eyes taking notes of your surroundings. When your food arrived you recited your bismillah before digging in.

The chair across from you were pulled suddenly, catching your attention when a man sat down. He fan the air with his hand, letting out a huffed and grin at you. "Damn, it's pretty hot is here huh? I have respect for you people. As soon as I land here I nearly pass out from the heat."

You paused mid chew, blinking at the blond dude. "Can I help you, sir?" You asked, your accent spoke with fluent English.

"Wait a moment." Goo shakes the fabric of his shirt, fanning himself from the inside. He then gesture your ice milo. "Can I?" You gestured back, letting him as he pull the glass to himself as drink from the straw. He takes big three gulps before exhaling. "Ah, that feels good. That's actually good. You guys have impressive products though."

"Where were we? Oh right." He pat his pants, before taking out his phone and show the screen to you. You stare before looking back at hik. Of course, he's your damn bounty. He's obviously not a local. But for a foreigner to came along this way for your ass? Now you're definitely have a big tone of beef with the culprit.

You chuckled, shaking your head. Picking your food as you said, "You got the wrong person. That's not me."

Goo's brows lit up, "Oh? That's not you?" He looked at his phone then back at you, double checking just to humour himself. "Really?"

You nod again, now it's his turn to chuckle. "Oh, I see, I see. I'm sorry. So you're really not (Full Name) from (birthplace), living in (address). (Age) years old, single, work part-time job. Parents named (dad's name) and (mom's name)."

You nearly choked at his full description of your background, you immediately swallowed your food and keep feigning a smile. "No, no."

"No?" He asked again in his own playful tone, "Ooh..." He nods before pulling your plate towards him. He leaned closer with a sneered. "Yah. Cut the bullshit already. You people are really know how to make jokes, I nearly pissed my pants."

As unfazed as you are, you decided to play along. "Where you from, sir?"

"South Korea." He spoke clearly, almost proudly. Your mouth shaped an 'O'.

"Wow, annyeonghaseyo! Welcome. Kamsahamnida for coming to our country."

The corner of his lips curled. He wasn't sure if you were mocking or that's really the basic knowledge around here. But he's the one that decide when play time is over.

The passing stray cat shrieks in surprise, followed by locals running away for their safety when the table was thrown effortlessly across the place by him.

You clicked your tongue, looking at where food landed. "Bro, that's a waste." Your gaze meet his piercing ones. "Can we not do this here? I wouldn't really appreciate it if some sialan started to show their gangster side here."

You raised you hand at the owner, managing to finish your sentence, "Sorry boss! I'll pay for the damage soon-" before a hard impact hit you square in the face, sending you back with an abnormal force. You groaned, pulling yourself back from someone's car. Inspecting the damaged on it as you then shake your head. "Of course it's a Myvi." You muttered, now facing front to your opponent.

His strength is definitely new to you. Mind you, you aren't much of a traveller. In this economy it's almost too hard to earn just enough money for that. But the fact envy you. Why must good fighters are always not from your country?

Brushing your side, you roll your shoulder. "Oi, oppa. Go easy on me lah! I don't have enough money to pay for the surgery. Even funeral cost you big dough, you know? My parents will have a heart attack." Your accent getting thicker as you scowl.

Goo laughed, "The review really tell no lies, huh? You locals really are friendly and funny. I like you but news flash you are the money. And I'm gonna make sure you're an easy one."

Cracking you neck, you get on your stance. His smirk gets wider as he read your body language.

You then pointed behind him, "Fuiyoh! Is that Uncle Roger?!" He raised a brow, and turn over his shoulder, giving you just the time to make a run for it. He deadpanned, "Wow."

Your feet scratched on the concrete as you took sharp turn to an alleyway. Picking up your feet as fast as you can. Don't get any wrong ideas. You're not a coward. You can fight. And you have the right to use it for self defense. But the idea of a random Korean guy coming here for you still sound absurd. Yet again what are the odds? Money is money. This guy must be loaded. Like super loaded.

"Hey."

Your eyes widened over your shoulder as he towers you, ready to pin you down with his fist. However you were quick to react, putting your foot down and pull your weight back and swerve to the side, dodging his attack. His fist meet the concrete, leaving huge crack from the strong impact.

"Superman?" You uttered in disbelief. You gasped, ducking your upper body to the front as his kick went pass you. You can feel strong breeze blowing your through you. He really does mean business. You really going to meet God at this point. But you aren't ready yet. You haven't repent to your past sins. You might as well get serious too.

You dodged his attacks swiftly. And by the looks of it he's having just as much fun. Blocking his hit with precise predictions, he take notes that you are no amateur. However quickly pushed aside that thought when he grasped the nearby rusty pipe, pulling it off like it's nothing and swing it towards you.

You groaned in pain. Your head throbbed like crazy as you stare at him judgmentally, "What the fuck, man?!" He whistled lowly, tossing the pipe playfully in his hand. He was impressed by your iron head and the fact that you hardly bleed. "You're playing dirty." You gritted your teeth, rubbing the sore spot. He shrugged, his smirk didn't falter, "I know. That's kinda my thing. Wanna see what else I can do?"

Again you found yourself being tossed across the store, damaging another property of others as people scramming out for their lives. "Sorry, aunty!" You said to the owner, picking your feet up.

"Haiyah, again ah?! You cannot stop causing trouble. I'll tell your mother." She scolded while pointed angrily at you, her accent is thick as a brick. Then at Goo, "You also! You think I cannot tell if somebody have a plastic surgery? You must have a lot of money, meh. So pay lah!"

"That's a shitty stereotype, lady." Goo stated. She spat back, "Ceh! What fuck do I give? (Name)! You settle this. This is why you haven't got married yet." She sigh heavily, shaking her head with disappointment before leaving the store from the backroom.

"I almost feel bad." Goo rolled his neck after the brief earful. You brushed him off, "I'm versatile. Where were we? Right, question. How much they paid you? Because I'm sure I wasn't even worth a million."

His hand rest the pipe on his shoulder while the other scratched his chin, "You'd be surprised. You're sort of a big shot, you should be proud."

"Proud? They call me anak saka. I'm a bad omen. That's God's job." You retorted. He snickered.

"Yeah, but me? I'm just doing devil's work here. Stop playing around. Just let me beat the shit out of you, yeah?" Lightly hitting the edge of the metal onto his palm rhythmically, he pulled a sadistic grin before charging at you with the speed of light.

Translations:

Mee goreng satu - one fried noodle

Bismillah - doing something "in the name of God"

Milo - popular cocoa drink

Sialan - fucker

Myvi - Malaysian car that is popular as a symbol of humour due to the random absurdity that they often occurred in. (Example/better understatement: Florida typa shit humour)

Lah - use as an addiction in a sentence in any way. Literally.

Fuiyoh - malay version of "wow"

Uncle Roger - popular Malaysian food critic Youtuber.

Haiyah - imagine the word 'sigh" but you pronounce the word instead of actually sighing. A term to use when you're disappointed.

Ceh - malay version of "tch" (Pronounced: ch-eh)

Anak saka - anak (child), saka (ancestral jinn what was pass down from the heritage) = devil's child.

[ch-4-eri]

“i could be your mom.” Jill argued, standing against the wall of her house that you’ve sneaked into to find Jill awake, her laptop lit on and papers scattered everywhere for the BSAA.

“but you’re not.” was all you said as you stared into her eyes, watching how she ran her fingers through her semi graying brown hair as she rolled her eyes. “but i could be.” she repeated.

“aren’t you ashamed of yourself? i mean, if i had a daughter twenty something years ago she’d be your age it’s ridiculous— go home, or i’ll call your mother,” Jill argued once more, standing straight from the wall with her arms dangling on her sides.

you scoffed in disbelief. “you wouldn’t.” you rolled your eyes, knowing how close your mother is to Jill on the friend’s list and maybe deep down you worried jill would actually rat you out to your extremely strict mother just like that without trying to stop it.

“what do you want? i don’t get it— you want a relationship with me? is that it? what you think it’s gonna be easy with me? we’re just gonna hold hands and watch movies together, eat stupid food on stupid dates?” Jill snapped. “what did you think you’d get out of this?! that this would be a normal relationship? i’m 40 for gods sake but this isn’t even a problem here, the problem is you think i’m that kind of woman, the one that’s just gonna do all that with you without consequences, so much to risk, i’m not an idiot and you’re assuming i’m one with you coming here thinking this would be anything other than a stupid teenage crush—“

“i’m not a teenager—!” you interrupted her, your eyes blurring from tears you wanna cry at how hurtful her words were but she was right.

“that’s not the point! you’re too goddamn young and i’m too damn damaged! you should spend your youth with a beautiful woman who can actually make you smile, hold your hand and watch ridiculous sappy movies with you.” Jill said, still angry but somehow very vulnerable.

“you’re a beautiful girl, honey.” she adds after a moment or so, walking closer to you enough she can rest a calloused palm over your soft skin, “you deserve better.” she continues, placing a kiss to your forehead, breaking your heart as a tear sheds down your cheek.

Jill doesn’t waste a second not wiping it away with her thumb.

“i’m so sorry darling.” she says, pulling you to her chest for a hug, making you melt into her, smelling the scent of her body and how warm she was, you wished you get to do this everyday, it hurt so bad.

the pads of your fingers cling to her shirt, keeping her close for as long as you can. “shh..” Jill whispered, hugging you and comforting you as your heart shattered even more. “it’s alright, let it out.” jill cooed, rocking you in her arms as her hand smoothed over your head, you’ve never felt both calm and heartbroken all at once.

maybe it wouldn’t work but being in her arms makes up for all the heartbreak to overcome, however long it takes.