#don't look too closely at... most of this

[surielstea]

Spelling it Out

Based on a request.

Pairing: Cassian x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is a bit oblivious to Cassian’s flirtations, so Cassian has to go the extra mile to prove he truly wants her.

Warnings: Cassian probably makes some suggestive jokes somewhere in here, but it’s all fluff! :)

4.6k words.

"I brought coffee," I announce as I step into the studio's warm embrace, the door swinging shut behind me to keep the morning chill at bay. I balance the two cups in one hand, the other cradling the new set of paints Feyre had asked me to pick up this morning.

"Back here!" Feyre's voice carries from the storage room, muffled slightly by the rustling of cardboard.

I follow the sound, stepping into the small back area where she's surrounded by half-unpacked boxes. She exhales in relief as she rushes up to me, taking her coffee with eager hands.

"You're a lifesaver," she groans, lifting the steaming cup to her lips. "Thank you."

I set the paints down, glancing at the boxes. "I thought the shipments were too heavy to unload?"

Feyre hums around her coffee, eyes twinkling. "Oh, I had help—"

Before she can finish, a figure stalks through the doorway, his presence effortlessly filling the space. A box—one that Feyre and I together had struggled to move—rests in his arms like it weighs nothing.

"This should be the last one," the male says, setting it down with casual ease.

His voice is deep, rough-edged in a way that demands attention. I take in the broad cut of his shoulders, the way his wings shift behind him, arching slightly as he straightens. And then I see his face—hazel eyes rich as molten gold, a scar cutting through his dark brow, and a mouth curled into an easy, knowing smile. He's ruggedly handsome, but not in that delicate, ethereal way most High Fae are. No, he's something else entirely—something solid, real.

"Help from Cassian," Feyre finishes, amusement lacing her tone.

The name stiles me immediately, and I was a fool for not immediately putting it together the second I saw him. Cassian. Lord of Bloodshed.

He turns his gaze to me, openly assessing, and I take the opportunity to do the same. There's something about the way he looks at me, like he's mapping every detail—filing it away for later.

"I didn't know we'd have company," I say, forcing my focus back to the present. "I would've brought another coffee."

Cassian huffs a soft laugh. "Oh, no need. I've been up for hours." His voice carries the same warmth as his grin, rough yet inviting. "But that's a kind gesture."

I nod, offering a small smile in return.

"I don't believe you two have officially met," Feyre chimes in, shifting her attention between us. "Cass, this is my very talented friend. She keeps this place running."

"She gives me too much credit," I say, shaking my head.

Cassian, however, tilts his head, his expression unreadable. "I doubt that." The certainty in his tone knocks something loose in my chest.

"This is Cassian," Feyre continues, grinning. "Rhys' brother and the best guy to call for lifting heavy things."

Cassian makes a sound of protest. "Don't forget hilarious, intelligent, devastatingly handsome—I mean, the list goes on."

I huff a quiet laugh as he extends his hand.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Cassian." I smile as I take his hand.

His fingers close around mine, warm and calloused, his grip firm but not overwhelming.

"Likewise, sweetheart." His smirk deepens, and before I can pull away, his thumb brushes ever so slightly over the back of my hand—a touch so fleeting, so deliberate, that I almost convince myself I imagined it. Then he winks, a quick, knowing thing, before finally releasing me.

I swallow, ignoring the odd flutter in my stomach. I've heard the stories from Feyre, how when she originally arrived in the night court she may as well have ended up with Cassian with his relentless flirting. He's joking, I remind myself. That's just how he is.

Cassian dusts his hands off on his leathers before flashing me an easy grin. "You must be the one keeping Feyre sane around here."

I huff a quiet laugh, setting down the paints. "I do my best. But she keeps me busy."

"She does that," he muses, glancing at Feyre. "Though I didn't realize she had such a beautiful assistant."

I blink at him, caught off guard. "Oh—I'm not really her assistant. More like a glorified errand runner."

Feyre scoffs. "That is not true."

Cassian's gaze flicks back to me, assessing. "You're an artist too, then?"

I nod while shucking off my winter coat and hanging it on the back of a chair. "That's the idea."

His grin widens. "Now I'm definitely going to start hanging around more. I could use a few painting tips."

Feyre snorts. "You paint?"

"Not yet," he says, unbothered. "But I'm a fast learner. And I've always appreciated a good work of art."

Something about the way he says it, about the way his hazel eyes flick over me like he's taking his time, makes my stomach flutter.

But before I can respond, he flashes me a smirk, turning back to Feyre. "Anyway, mission accomplished. Boxes are in, and I fully expect my reward."

"Which is?" Feyre asks dryly.

Cassian smirks. "Your eternal gratitude. And maybe a good bottle of whiskey, if Rhys is feeling generous."

Feyre rolls her eyes, but I can't help my smile.

"How about next time we need your help, you'll be the first one we call?" I suggest, noticing Feyre's playful disinterest in rewarding him for being a good friend.

Cassian grins like I've just made his day. "Oh, sweetheart. You can call me anytime."

His voice drops just enough to send an odd warmth curling through my stomach. But before I can overthink it, he turns toward the door.

Cassian turns slightly, glancing at me and Feyre. "I'll be seeing you around, hopefully." He directs at me. "See you for dinner, Feyre."

And just like that, he's gone, leaving only the scent of wind and cracking embers in his wake.

I shake my head, amused, as I turn back to Feyre—only to find her already watching me over the rim of her coffee cup.

"What?"

She only smirks, taking a slow sip. "Nothing."

I frown but brush it off, reaching for the new paints.

Cassian was just being friendly. That's all.

Right?

—

From that moment on, Cassian made every excuse to come to the studio. Half the time, he didn't even bother with a valid reason—just threw out a casual "I was in town" when, in reality, he always was. Velaris wasn't nearly as big as he made it out to be.

The bell above the door rang, and I didn't need to look up to know whose footsteps were approaching behind me.

"Is that supposed to be a bird?" Cassian mused, leaning over my shoulder.

I scoffed, shoving his face away. "It's a dog, and you know it."

He chuckled, easily dodging my half-hearted push and settling right back beside me. "Mmm. If you say so." His wings rustled as he peered at my work again, this time with something softer in his expression. "It's amazing, sweetheart. You're so damn talented."

The sincerity in his voice made my stomach flutter. I tilted my head back to look up at him, caught off guard by the rare note of awe in his tone.

That awe melted into something else—something warm and teasing—as he placed both hands on my shoulders and started kneading gently.

I nearly groaned on the spot. "Gods, you're perfect at that." I exhaled, practically melting under his touch.

Cassian hummed, his thumbs working expertly over the knots in my shoulders.

I sighed blissfully, rolling my shoulders into his hands. "You should've been a healer."

He chuckled, his breath fanning against my ear. "I'd rather just take care of you, sweetheart."

I smiled, tilting my head further into his touch, completely missing the way his fingers stilled for a beat before continuing their slow, deliberate strokes.

"You really are tense," he murmured, pressing into the tight muscles just beneath my neck. "Is this what happens when you spend all day hunched over, painting little dogs that look like birds?"

I smacked his arm lightly. "If you're going to insult my work, at least pretend to be subtle about it."

"Who said anything about insulting?" His thumbs dug in a little deeper, his voice dropping just enough to make my skin heat. "I love watching you work. All focused, biting your lip, completely lost in it."

I wrinkled my nose. "That makes me sound like some kind of absent-minded hermit."

Cassian grinned. "A very cute absent-minded hermit."

I rolled my eyes. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Cassian."

"That's funny because I feel like it's getting me everywhere," he mused, his hands still kneading at my shoulders. "You're practically purring."

"I am not purring," I argued, though I made no move to stop him.

"Cassian, stop distracting my employees!" Feyre's voice rang from the back room, laced with exasperation.

Cassian smirked, straightening up from where he'd been massaging my shoulders. "Employee," he corrected with a lazy grin. "And I'm motivating her."

I rolled my eyes, but the warmth of his hands still lingered on my skin, a phantom pressure I refused to dwell on.

He chuckled, stepping back, stretching in that way that made every muscle in his absurdly broad body flex just enough to be noticed. His wings flared slightly, shifting behind him like an afterthought before he shot me another smirk. "I'll let you get back to it, sweetheart." Then, with a slow tilt of his head—"Unless you'd rather take a break and let me keep working these magic hands?"

My breath caught for half a second before I forced myself to scoff. "No," I said, ignoring the small blush creeping up my neck. "But... could I ask you a favor?"

Cassian perked up instantly, arms folding over his chest. "Anything, gorgeous."

I hesitated, suddenly second-guessing myself, but forged ahead. "I need to paint an anatomical feature I've been studying. I have a few reference images, but..." I swallowed, glancing at his wings. "I was hoping I could use you as a live model?"

His brows lifted, hazel eyes gleaming with intrigue. "My wings?"

I nodded. "Your wings are far more magnificent than the sketches in my book."

The moment the words left my mouth, I realized how they sounded—how appreciative they were—and my face went hot.

Cassian, of course, took full advantage. His wings stretched slightly as if preening under the attention. "You just trying to get me shirtless, sweetheart?"

A very unhelpful image flashed in my head—of him, shirtless, all sculpted muscle and golden skin, wings fanned out behind him in the studio's soft light.

"No!" I blurted, before catching myself. "I mean—it's just for the wings."

Cassian barked a laugh, shaking his head. "Only teasing, sweetheart. I'd love to."

I exhaled in relief. "Good. Are you free tomorrow?"

He tilted his head, grinning. "I'm here whenever you want me."

Something about the way he said it made my stomach flip.

I bit my lower lip slightly, nodding. "Thank you."

"I wouldn't thank me so fast," he mused, gaze flicking to me with unmistakable mischief. "You owe me after this."

I narrowed my eyes. "Owe you what?"

Cassian made a show of looking away, tapping his chin as though deep in thought. "Haven't decided yet," he hummed, lips twitching. "But don't worry, sweetheart. I'll think of something."

I huffed, waving him off. "Go bother someone else, Cassian."

He gave a dramatic bow, smirk firmly in place. "As you wish."

And with that, he sauntered off, wings twitching ever so slightly as he disappeared into the back of the studio—leaving Feyre standing there, watching me, amusement dancing in her eyes.

I turned back to my canvas, heat still prickling my skin.

—

I wasn't nervous.

There was no reason to be nervous.

It was just a painting. Just a model session. Nothing different from the dozens I'd done before.

Except, of course, this time the model was Cassian. And he was currently standing in the doorway of the studio, a lazy, devastatingly handsome grin on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Told you I'd be here whenever you wanted me."

I cleared my throat, turning away quickly to gather my supplies. "Yes, well, I'd rather not have students knocking over easels trying to get a look at you, so we're setting up in the back."

He let out a low chuckle as he followed me. "What, afraid they'll get distracted?"

I rolled my eyes. "No, but I know you will."

"Fair point."

Once we stepped into the back room—where there were no prying eyes or interruptions—I pointed to the stool in the center of the space. "Sit there, facing away from me."

Cassian obeyed, but not before flashing me a smirk. "Getting bossy already?"

I ignored him, busying myself with setting up my canvas. "You can take off your shirt now."

"Damn, sweetheart—at least buy me dinner first."

I froze mid-motion, whipping my head around. "That's not—I didn't—"

Cassian just laughed, reaching over his shoulder to grab the back of his collar. In one smooth motion, he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it onto a nearby table.

I regretted looking.

Because Mother above.

Cassian was made of solid muscle—thick, powerful shoulders, his back broad and sculpted as if the Cauldron had taken extra care in crafting every ridge, every dip, every inch of him. His wings, folded neatly against his back, only added to the sheer size of him.

I swallowed hard, thankful beyond belief that he was facing away.

"You good back there?" Cassian teased.

"I'm fine," I said, maybe a little too quickly.

I turned my attention to his wings. The pose needed to be just right—relaxed but natural, something that would emphasize their power without looking stiff or unnatural. I stepped forward, lifting my hands, then hesitated.

"Can I touch?" I asked softly, if there was one thing I learned from studying Illyrian anatomy it's that their wings were sensitive, sacred.

Cassian went still.

For a moment, there was silence. Then—so quiet I almost missed it—his breath hitched.

When he spoke again, his voice was different. Lower. "Yeah, sweetheart. Go ahead.

I exhaled slowly before pressing my fingertips to the strong, leathery membrane of his wing. Warmth radiated from him, the muscle beneath my touch twitching slightly as I carefully adjusted his positioning.

It was... exhilarating, in a way. To be granted access to something so personal.

I stepped back to assess the placement. "Are they too heavy to hold like that?"

Cassian laughed. "That's adorable."

I frowned. "What?"

"Sweetheart, these wings have carried me through battle, through storms, through the Illyrian mountains at full speed. I think I can manage to hold them still for a few hours."

I huffed. "Fine. But will you be able to sit still?"

That earned me another chuckle, this one softer. "Guess we'll find out, won't we?"

I shook my head and finally picked up my pencil, settling in front of my canvas.

"Alright," I murmured to myself, letting my nerves melt away as I focused on the work ahead. "Let's begin."

The soft scratch of pencil against canvas filled the room, steady, rhythmic—an anchor keeping me grounded as I worked.

I started with the shape of his wings, mapping out their vast expanse, the way they framed his body like an extension of his very presence. The leather stretched taut over powerful muscle, lined with delicate veins and faint, nearly imperceptible scars.

I shouldn't have been staring so intently.

I shouldn't have been so utterly captivated by every detail of him.

And yet, as I let my pencil glide over the page, shaping the curve of his shoulder blades, the slope of his spine, the corded muscles of his back... I couldn't stop.

He's just a model. Just another subject.

Then why did my fingers tremble slightly when I shaded the deep ridges of his scars? Why did my chest tighten at the thought of what he must have endured to earn them?

Cassian shifted slightly, flexing his shoulders, his wings twitching.

I snapped out of my daze, scowling. "Sit still."

He huffed a laugh. "I don't think I've ever sat this still in my entire life."

I hummed in response, refocusing. Carefully, I traced the lines of his back, the contours of muscle that spoke of centuries of battle, of training, of dedication. My gaze flicked up to his wings again, and a quiet sigh escaped me.

"What's that sound for?" he asked, the amusement clear in his voice.

I hesitated, then admitted, "They really are beautiful, you know."

Cassian stilled for a fraction of a second before letting out a soft chuckle. "Careful, sweetheart. Keep saying things like that and I might start thinking you actually like having me here."

I rolled my eyes. "You act like I don't."

Silence.

A pause, just long enough to make my stomach flutter with uncertainty.

Then, "Good. I like being here."

I pressed my lips together, pretending that warmth hadn't bloomed in my chest at his words. Pretending that I wasn't getting lost in the strong, elegant lines of his body.

I dipped my brush into the paint, moving on from the sketch to the first careful strokes of color.

Cassian's voice broke through the quiet. "You know, if you wanted a full anatomy study, you could've just asked."

I blinked, pulling back slightly. "...What?"

He turned his head just enough to smirk at me over his shoulder. "You're painting my back, too, aren't you?"

My cheeks heated. "Well—yes, but—"

"Seems unfair to only get half the view."

I huffed. "I don't need the full view, Cassian."

His smirk deepened. "That's a shame. I'd be a very cooperative model."

I nearly choked on air. "Just—shut up and sit still."

He laughed, the sound warm and rich, settling in my bones.

I shouldn't have been enjoying this so much.

I shouldn't have been admiring the golden-brown glow of his skin, the way the light cast soft shadows over the planes of his back. I shouldn't have let my eyes linger on the scars that marred him—proof of all he had endured, of everything he had survived.

And I certainly shouldn't have wished that all his teasing, all his flirtation, was anything more than just casual banter.

Cassian was like this with everyone.

Wasn't he?

I was not going to let Cassian distract me.

Even if he was currently sprawled in front of me, shirtless, his wings stretched just so, his body the most stunning thing I'd ever painted.

Even if his words curled around me like smoke, warm and teasing, making my thoughts race in ways they shouldn't.

I swallowed hard and turned my attention back to the canvas, forcing myself to focus.

I just had to finish the painting.

And ignore the way my heart had begun to beat just a little too fast.

The rhythmic strokes of my brush filled the quiet space, punctuated only by the occasional scrape of bristles against canvas and the steady sound of Cassian's breathing.

Nearly an hour has passed, and to his credit, he'd been holding still remarkably well. Mostly.

"You're awfully quiet back there, sweetheart," Cassian mused, his voice carrying just the hint of a smirk. "Not getting bored, are you?"

I huffed, dipping my brush into a deeper shade of pigment. "I'm working, Cassian."

"I am your work right now."

I rolled my eyes. "And you're a very high-maintenance subject."

Cassian chuckled. "I prefer engaging. You should be thanking me, really. Keeps things from getting dull."

I let out a soft laugh despite myself. "You're half-naked in front of me, Cassian. Things aren't exactly dull."

Silence.

A beat too long.

I froze as I realized what I'd just said.

Cassian's wings twitched. Then, "Well, well."

I groaned. "Forget I said that."

"Oh, absolutely not." He turned his head slightly, just enough for me to catch the smug curve of his lips. "You just admitted to being entertained by me. I'm savoring this moment."

"I said forget it."

"Nope. It's mine now."

I sighed, glaring at the canvas like it had personally wronged me.

Cassian chuckled again but thankfully let it drop, settling back into his position.

A few minutes passed in something almost resembling peace. I worked on layering in the first washes of color, the warm tones of his skin against the deeper hues of his wings.

Then—"So, do I get a say in how I'm portrayed?"

I lifted a brow. "Are you worried about artistic liberties?"

"A little."

I fought back a smile. "I could make you look very dramatic, if that's what you're asking. Add some storm clouds in the background. Maybe a tragic tear rolling down your face."

Cassian snorted. "As tempting as that sounds, I'd rather not be mistaken for some brooding, tortured soul."

I hummed. "That is Azriel's aesthetic."

"Exactly. We can't both have it."

"I don't know," I mused. "I think it could work. Maybe a single candle for dramatic lighting—"

"Absolutely not."

I grinned, but before I could make another remark, Cassian stretched, his wings flexing slightly before tucking back into place. The movement was so fluid, so casual—so utterly him.

I quickly went in with another light sketch, wanting to capture the way his muscles moved, the effortless strength in his frame.

"You still with me back there?" he teased, amusement lacing his voice.

"Yes, Cassian. Some of us are capable of focusing."

"Some of us just don't need to focus that hard to admire what's in front of us."

I frowned slightly, not quite catching his meaning. "What?"

He chuckled. "Nothing, sweetheart."

I shook my head, deciding not to press it.

"Alright," I finally said, leaning back to study my work. "I have the basics down. You can put your shirt back on now."

Cassian made a low, exaggerated noise of disappointment. "Damn. And here I was hoping you'd need me to pose for a few more hours."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't sound too heartbroken. I will be making you sit for another session later."

His grin was wicked. "You just can't get enough of me, can you?"

"Shut up and put your shirt on, Cassian."

He laughed, grabbing his discarded shirt—but the knowing look in his eyes told me that he'd be holding onto this moment for a long time.

And for some reason, I didn't mind one bit.

—

Cassian came in for many sessions after that.

I probably could've finished the painting on my own after the first few sittings, but he insisted I get all the colors right, all the details perfect. And, well... I wasn't exactly going to complain about having him shirtless in front of me for hours on end.

So, day after day, he showed up, sauntering into the studio with that insufferable smirk, stretching his wings like he owned the place. And I let him, indulged him—indulged myself—until the painting was finally finished, until there was no reason for him to sit for me anymore.

The thought left a strange hollowness in my chest, but I ignored it, focusing instead on adding the final highlights to his wings.

Cassian shifted in his seat, rolling his shoulders.

I glanced up. "Getting restless?"

He grinned. "You gonna keep me trapped here all day, sweetheart?"

I smirked. "You're free to go anytime." I glanced at the painting. "But you'd be leaving unfinished art behind, and that would just be tragic."

Even though all I had left to add was a small, near-invisible highlight, I liked the idea of keeping him there just a little longer.

Cassian chuckled, shaking his head. "Fine, fine. I'll sit still for you a little longer."

Something in the way he said it—for you—sent a ripple of warmth through me, but I shoved it aside. I exhaled, finally setting my brush down.

"Alright," I said, stretching my arms. "You're officially free."

Cassian groaned dramatically, standing and rolling his neck. "Finally." He grabbed his shirt, but instead of putting it on, he slung it over his shoulder, turning toward me with that insufferable smirk. "Is it done?"

I turned the easel slightly toward him.

It was hard to admire my own work. After staring at it for so long in every unfinished form, I wasn't sure if I loved it or if I just loved the image I had painted. But I could say I was proud of it. That was enough.

Cassian stepped closer, blinking at the still-wet canvas. His brows lifted, his mouth parted slightly. He didn't speak, didn't crack a joke, didn't smirk like he usually did.

I shifted under his gaze. "Well?"

He inhaled, slow. "Sweetheart..." He sounded almost reverent. "It's... it's beautiful."

A laugh bubbled from my lips. "You're only saying that because it's you I painted."

"No—I mean, I am beautiful, but this is... magnificent." His voice was softer than usual, quieter.

Something flickered in his eyes as he turned toward me, something warm and fond. It was enough to make my stomach flip.

I swallowed. "Thanks, Cass."

His grin returned. "Proud of yourself?"

I nodded, offering a small smile. "Yeah. I am."

His wings twitched. "Good. You should be."

A comfortable silence settled between us for a moment, the weight of his words pressing into me in a way I wasn't sure how to handle.

Then Cassian cleared his throat, stretching his arms over his head. "Now that it's finished..."

Something about the way he said it sent a prickle of anticipation down my spine.

He grinned. "...About my favor?"

I groaned. "You actually kept track of that?"

Cassian scoffed. "Sweetheart, I'd never forget a promise like that." He crossed his arms over his broad chest, eyeing me like he was scheming. "And I know exactly what I want."

A slow, lazy smirk curled his lips.

And for some reason, my stomach flipped all over again.

I raised a brow, waiting.

Cassian took a step forward. Then another.

My stomach flipped. "Okay?"

"I want you to go out with me."

I blinked. "What?"

His smirk deepened. "That's my favor. You and me. A date."

I stared at him, sure I'd misheard. "You're joking."

"Nope."

My heart did something strange, something uneven, and I let out a short, breathy laugh. "Cassian, you flirt with everyone."

"Not like this." His voice was quieter now. Steady.

I swallowed. "But—you're just messing with me. You've been messing with me this whole time."

Cassian sighed, running a hand down his face. "Gods, you're impossible." Before I could react, he stepped closer, hands coming up to cup my face, thumbs brushing my cheeks.

My breath hitched.

"Sweetheart," he murmured, tilting my chin up slightly. "Listen to me. I have not spent weeks finding every excuse under the sun to come here, sitting shirtless for hours just so you'd look at me, calling in a whole-ass favor just to take you out—just to mess with you."

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

Cassian's thumbs brushed against my skin again, his hazel eyes locked on mine. "I like you. I want you. And I swear to the Gods, if I have to spell it out anymore, I'm going to start carving it into the damn walls."

I let out a breathless laugh, my face burning. "You're serious."

His lips curled. "Took you long enough."

I exhaled, shaking my head slightly. "I—"

"Just say yes, sweetheart," he murmured, voice teasing, but there was something else in his gaze—something warm, something steady. Something real.

I swallowed hard. Yes."

Cassian grinned. "Good choice."

His hands lingered on my face for just a second longer before he pulled back, grabbing his shirt off his shoulder and throwing it on. He shot me one last smirk as he backed toward the door.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow after your class."

And with that, he was gone, leaving me standing there—heart racing, mind spinning, trying to process the fact that Cassian had actually just asked me out.

That all this time, he hadn't been messing with me at all.

Feyre was going to laugh at me for not catching on sooner when I tell her.

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[jobean12-blog]

Make It Last

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Mob/Mafia AU)

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: When the most powerful man in the city wants you, it's hard to say no. Obviously he's hard to resist but considering his significance in the city you can't help but wonder if you're just another piece of arm candy, so if he wants you, he'll just have to wait.

Author's Note: I've been thinking about Mob!Bucky a lot and what it would be like the first time with him. Lovely Sydney @buck-star had sent me a Mob!Bucky thot last week and he's just so yummy! Hope you enjoy, thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: lots of build up and tension to lots of smutty fun. Bucky is dominant but also soft and gives you everything you want. Oral (f rec), p in v (wrap it up but no need here bc it's Mob!Bucky and he's good and already checked you out haha), light praise and overstim, Bucky can't get enough and you don't want him to.

“It might last longer if he just takes a picture!”

You laugh but you don’t look at your friend even after she makes the joke.

“Why is he even here? Didn’t you tell him you’d be out with the me?” she adds.

At her question you turn to Nat and raise a brow.

“He owns the place. What am I gonna do? Have security remove him for staring too much?”

Nat laughs into her drink but shakes her head. “I guess that won’t work…but it doesn’t bother you at all?”

You give Bucky one more lingering glance then turn your full attention to Nat.

“Under different circumstances it might but it’s sort of my fault that he’s so…worked up.”

“What does that mean?” Nat asks as she leans in closer with a smirk.

You take another sip of your drink. “Well, speaking of pictures…I sent him some while I was getting ready…”

Nat pauses then says, “and? Hasn’t he seen you naked already. You’ve been dating almost a month.”

“We haven’t had sex yet.”

She nearly spits out her drink. “You haven’t fucked that man yet?” She peeks over your shoulder at Bucky, who still has his full attention on you.

“I know,” you sigh. “I can’t believe I’ve lasted this long. But honestly, he’s the most powerful man in the city. He probably has had every woman alive. Why me? I didn’t want to just sleep with him and then…that’s it.”

Nat nods in understanding. “So, you’re making him work for it.”

“Work for it, wait for it…I like him. A lot. And I’m hoping that this shows him I want more than just a good fuck.”

“I bet he’s the best fuck…ever!”

Nat’s words send you into a fit of giggles that dissolve as you feel him approach, the heat at your back followed but a shiver from his whispered words against your ear.

“Enjoying yourself doll face?”

You turn your head, your face so close to his you nearly bump noses.

“I am Bucky, thank you.”

“Good,” he says. “And this is your last drink.”

Your eyes widen at his statement, and you open your mouth to argue but he places a long finger against your lips to silence you.

“I want you completely coherent when I fuck you tonight. I want you to remember everything I do to you.”

With a hard swallow you whisper, “ok,” and your eyes drop to his lips. He kisses you, sweet and soft and way too quickly.

“My car will be outside at eleven.”

He says goodbye to Nat before walking off and disappearing behind one of the doors at the back of the club.

“What was that about?” Nat asks. “You look like you might pass out.”

“I’m going to sleep with him tonight,” you answer, nearly breathless.

Your eyes roam over his body, his black button-up shirt tucked into black pants. The first two buttons of his shirt are left undone, hinting at the expanse of skin beneath and highlighting the long and muscular line of his neck. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his corded forearms and prominent veins shift as he removes the lustrous watch on his wrist.

You stand and wait, watching him as he slowly stalks closer.

“Do you know how hard it’s been? How hard I’ve been…waiting?”

Your eyes drop to his pants and the clear outline of him pressing along the lush fabric. You reach out, your fingertips just brushing against him and his breath comes out in a sharp exhale.

He wraps his fingers around your wrist and drags you into his chest, pressing you against every inch of him. His lips find yours in a hungry kiss, his hands slowly tracing your curves until they cradle your face.

“Are you finally going to let me have you?” he murmurs against your lips.

Your palms flatten along his chest, and you kiss him softly.

“Yes,” you whisper.

“My favorite word,” he breathes before kissing you again.

His hands move to your back, finding the zipper of your dress and toying with the small piece of metal. You whimper with impatience, and you feel his smile against your mouth before he spins you around, so your back is to him.

Goosebumps break out across your skin as he smooths his fingertips over the curve of your shoulder then drops his hand back to the zipper, slowly pulling it down until the fabric pools at your feet.

He hums in approval, kissing the back of your neck and then the space between your shoulder.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing the lace of your undergarments.

He turns you to face him again and then gently guides you toward the bed, pushing until you sit. He kneels, taking your foot in his hand and sliding off your heel. He repeats the action with your other foot and smooths his palm along your calf with a delicate caress.

“So soft,” he sighs then stands, gazing down at you. “So beautiful.”

He starts to unbutton the rest of his shirt, but you stand to stop him, taking the fabric between your fingers and teasingly undoing the buttons until you can push it off his shoulders.

Your fingertips lightly scrape down his chest, lingering over every scar you find before your lips press to the puckered skin.

His eyes close and he whispers your name.

When your fingers reach his pants, trembling slightly, you pull the zipper down. You reveal his boxers and the noticeable bulge beneath the tight material.

You lick your lips and brush your fingers through the soft hair just above the waistband then dip them inside, sliding your hand along every warm, silky inch of him.

He throbs in response, your thumb tracing the tip and smearing the wetness there. You kiss him all over, not taking him into your mouth yet but teasing with your lips.

“Doll,” he warns and unclenches a fist to stop you. “If you keep that up this will be finished before we even start.”

You let out a soft gasp as he helps you stand and pushes you back onto the bed. His hands skim your thighs, pulling your legs up and placing them on either side of his hips. He hovers over you, staring, the curling wisps of his dark hair falling across his forehead.

When he slides his hand between the mattress and your back, you lift yourself, giving him access to unhook your bra. He makes quick work of it but takes his time as he peels it from your body to reveal your breasts.

He stares again, his cheeks flushed and the muscles in his arms and chest straining. You reach for him, pulling him down for a kiss and pressing your bodies together. His lips trail down your neck, to your collarbone, soft nips at your skin before he continues his descent, lips leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

His tongue teases your nipple then sucks it into his mouth making your back arch in pleasure. He pays the same attention to your other breast, teasing, licking, nibbling, and soothing.

You feel his smile against your skin as he pulls away to kiss down your stomach, keeping one hand on your breast.

His name falls from your parted lips when he presses a kiss between your legs, the thin fabric of your panties doing little to dampen the heat of his breath.

He sits back, gazing down at you, fingers teasing the waistband of lace at your hips.

“Do you want my mouth doll?”

You nod, your hips squirming.

“I want to hear the word.”

“Yes!”

A satisfied look crosses his face as he hooks his thumbs into the soft material and pulls it off, purposefully dragging the tips of his fingers down your thighs and calves.

His kiss is a barely there whisper of his lips to your clit, yet it causes your entire body to quiver. He does it again and again until you’re begging for more.

Finally, his tongue flattens, and he tastes you in a long lick from top to bottom. You cry out, bucking and pushing your hips into his face. He closes his lips around your clit and sucks, applying the perfect amount of pressure to make you tremble.

His hands dig deeper into your thighs, the rings adorning his fingers leaving marks in your skin as your calves come to rest on his shoulders, opening you wider for him. His tongue circles your clit before sweeping lower and dipping inside you. Your fingers grasp his hair, another breathless moan leaving your lips.

After bringing you to the edge he pulls back and lets you catch your breath, but it’s short lived as his finger circles your clit before sliding lower to sink inside you.

“More Bucky,” you breathe.

He pulls his finger out and rubs along your entrance with two, teasing you, before only pushing one back inside.

You bring your hand down toward him, needing more, but he quickly intercepts it. He withdraws his fingers and gathers your wrists together with one hand, bringing both arms stretched out above your head.

“Keep them there,” he orders.

You start to nod but then quickly reply with a breathy, “yes.”

He bends down to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth before sinking his teeth into it. He moves back down your body, his tongue working you over, no longer teasing, but with purpose.

It takes everything in you not to let your hands fall to his hair and when he suddenly pushes two fingers inside you, giving you what you asked for, you moan out in pleasure.

His long fingers reach deep inside you, and combined with his attention to your clit, you can feel your release building.

A warm, tingling sensation spreads through your body and your breathing turns ragged as your muscles tense.

He doesn’t stop, working you through your release and prolonging it until you’re a trembling mess beneath him.

You open your eyes to find him watching you with a heated gaze.

“Fuck doll face. I could watch you come undone for me like that every day for the rest of my life.”

His thumb sweeps over your sensitive and swollen clit and your eyes roll back.

“Again,” he murmurs, dipping between your legs before you can respond.

His lips replace his thumb, his fingers resuming their previous pace as he slides his free hand under your lower back to effortlessly lift you and bring you closer.

Everything feels ten times more sensitive now and you fight with the clashing sensations of pulsating pleasure and the soreness of overstimulation.

You feel your release approaching quickly and your eyes squeeze shut but his commanding voice pulls you from your haze.

“No,” he growls. “Open them. Look at me.”

You obey, opening your eyes again, and the sight of him between your spread thighs sends you over the edge.

“Bucky,” you choke out.

“Gorgeous,” he whispers. “But not nearly enough.”

You struggle to sit up, your eyes falling to his cock resting against his abdominals. He smirks and grips himself, pumping his hand slowly up and down his length.

“Do you need a break doll?”

“No,” you tell him, letting your legs fall open.

He settles between them, his lips kissing your neck and the sensitive spot below your ear. He slides his hand down between your bodies and rubs himself against you teasingly.

“What is it?” he asks, pausing at the slight tensing in your body.

“Nothing Bucky.”

“Tell me doll face,” he demands. “I’ll stop if you want me to.”

“No!” you say quickly. “No. It’s not that. You’re just…bigger than what I’m used to.”

He smirks, rolling his hips slowly, not pressing in yet.

“You can take it doll.”

His hand moves to your face, grasping your jaw, keeping you looking up at him.

“Keep your eyes on me.”

“Yes Bucky.”

His other hand grips your waist, holding you steady, and your breath catches in your throat as he begins to press into you, then came out in a low moan as he unhurriedly sinks in, making you feel every throbbing inch of him.

Your eyes flutter closed, but then his fingers dig into your jaw, a silent reminder to keep your eyes open. Your body stretches to accommodate him, the initial burn giving way to sweet friction as you relax.

He continues to move maddeningly slowly, his gaze never leaving yours, the intimacy of the moment making your pulse pick up in a way that has nothing to do with his languid movements.

He lets out a soft exhale as he finally stills, settled fully inside you. Your inner walls flutter around him as you adjust to his size, and he pulls back slightly, only to push back in with more force, drawing another moan out of you.

“See doll. You take me so well,” he praises. “Do you want more?”

“Yes,” you say, your hands wrapped around his biceps, feeling the power in his muscles as he holds himself over you.

He draws back until only the tip remains inside you and then slips back in slowly. You lift your hips with impatience but his hand pushes on your stomach to pin you back down to the bed.

He leans in to kiss you, softly and with sweet, whispered words. The slow roll of his hips builds tightness in your stomach, and he takes your hand in his, pressing it next to your head, entwining your fingers.

You slide your free hand through his hair, dragging your fingers through the soft strands and then down his neck. He closes his eyes, savoring the sensation, his hold on your hand tightening.

“I could come just from this,” he says huskily, lips dropping down to your ear. “Just from the sight of you completely ruined under me.”

His words make you squeeze around him, and he lets out a low, deep rumbling moan into your neck. You jerk your hips up toward him, your legs trying to draw him closer and deeper.

He lets go, pumping his hips faster, fingers digging into your thigh possessively as your body jolts with the force of it.

With a precise and purposeful rhythm, he keeps a relentless pace until your body explodes with every sensation and all you can do is hold onto him and listen to the rough sound that comes deep from his throat.

He pants against your neck, then trails soft kisses along your jaw to your lips, his kiss slow and deep, making you breathless all over again. Your heart beats frantically between you, his own a rapid thump, thump, thump, against his sweaty chest.

With gentleness he pulls out and lays down next to you, throwing his arm over your waist and curling you toward him. You quickly get lost in his cocoon of warmth, sighing, and closing your eyes, but he presses two fingers under your chin, lifting your gaze to his.

“I want to clean you up,” he whispers. “And I want you to stay the night with me.”

Your quiet “yes,” makes him smile proudly and he carefully extracts himself, returning quickly with a warm cloth and delicate hands.

He slides up the bed and pulls you to him, closing the distance and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, then the corner of your mouth and finally your lips. His hand cradles your face, his thumb swiping over your lips, applying enough pressure to part them.

Then his hand glides along your throat and his fingers close around the back of your neck to angle your head in a way that allows him a deeper kiss.

When he pulls away his nose gently bumps yours and he opens his eyes, ghosting his lips to yours as he whispers, “so perfect for me doll.”

[gold-iridescent]

Always check.

A few things you could look for or do:

0 (Always do this): Take a breather, try to calm your emotions. Fake news want you to feel a certain way so you believe them!

Now.

1. Do they cite their sources?

2. Search up something that was claimed to be true by the source and check with other sources (be wary if there is no other sources.)

3. Search up WHAT ORGANIZATION(S) FINANCE THE NEWS OUTLET. Be especially wary if it's by a Political party or a company in close cooperation with a Political Party

4. Check the URL (if it seems to be an 'edu' domain, but is followed by a ".co" or "Io", it likely is a fake site.)

5. Be wary if the info is protrayed as SENSATIONAL or seems TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE.

6. If your resource has an ABOUT US section, read it. Modt reputable websites WILL have an about us and a way to contact them.

7. Check the Authors credentials. Why are *they* an authority on the matter? Do they currently work in that field? Check their LinkedIn, if available. Google the authors name.

8. Does the article only present one side of a debate? Then it is biased. That is not necessarily bad but make sure to get all sides of the arguments to make a well-based opinion

9. BE AWARE of CONFIRMATION BIAS. People tend to seek and interpert info and evidence in the way that confirms their belief or expectations. Try to be neutral. Don't fall into this trap

THIS IS NOT ALL so well explained, but i tried my best /gen

I have linked resources and such below. Will be updating this post. making edits if i see mistakes, etc. PLEASE MESSAGE ME of more tips and resources and such that might be helpful! I would appreciate it /gen

BE AWARE SOME SOURCES ARE BY THE GOVERNMENT (.gov). we do not know how much the government will control/change the acurracy of them, so PLEASE double check)

ALWAYS CHECK WITH SEVERAL RESOURCES, NOT JUST ONE, TO FACT CHECK

https://www.factcheck.org/about/our-mission/

https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/fact-checker/

https://www.allsides.com/media-bias

https://www.courtreference.com/

https://factcheck.afp.com/

https://www.reuters.com/fact-check/

SOME GUIDES AND INFOS ABOUT / TO FACT CHECKING

https://www.wnyc.org/story/breaking-news-consumers-handbook-pdf/

https://andrew-philips.medium.com/a-beginners-guide-to-fact-checking-a98309fe875b

https://projects.research-and-innovation.ec.europa.eu/en/horizon-magazine/five-fact-checking-tips-disinformation-experts

-Ares

just as a general reminder

learn how to fact-check for yourself, cause soon enough, most online sources won't be reliable

[im-so-normal-iswear]

HELLO!

May I request a Yandere Sonic, Shadow and Silver (seperate) with a fem reader where comes from a different reality where they are fictional and somehow the hedgehogs became attached and obsessed with reader, reader is very much aware of their behavior and is also one of the reasons why she wants to go home to her own reality fast.

Sending loves to youu!!🫶🏻🤍

A/n: poll on, so now I'm putting images, I couldn't find any good ones

Yandere triple s x reader

Sonic:

At first, you couldnct believe it, you were in Sonics world.

The rolling green hills, the endless loops, the vibrant colors of the world, it was surreal. And meeting Sonic? That was the best part.

He was exactly like you imagined. Charismatic, funny, energetic. You geeked out about meeting him, and he was amused by how much you already knew about him. Sonic took an immediate liking to you, eager to show you around and let you experience the world firsthand.

The first few days were a dream come true. Running through Green Hill Zone, meeting Tails, going toe-to-toe with Eggman (it was actually more like watching Sonic handle it while you stood on the sidelines). Everything felt like a perfect adventure, straight out of a game.

Then, things started getting... off.

It began subtly. Sonic insisted on staying close to you all the time. You figured it was just him being protective. After all, you were just a human, and this world was full of dangers. But the more time passed, the more suffocating it became.

He started pulling you away from the others, cutting conversations short when you were with Tails or Amy. At first, he made excuses, "Hey, let’s get outta here! I've got something way cooler to show ya!" but you quickly realized he was isolating you.you started getting weird dreams.

You dreamed of your real home, your reality, the place you desperately wanted to return to. But every time you woke up, Sonic was already there, sitting beside you with an unreadable expression.

"Another bad dream?" he asked, his voice casual.

When you admitted what it was about, his expression darkened.

"You really wanna go back, huh?" He leaned closer, his smile strained. "I don't get it. You've got me here. What's better than that?"

The moment you realized something was deeply wrong was when you tried asking Tails about ways to return home.

Sonic snapped.

One second, he was his usual self, the next, he had grabbed your wrist, his grip too tight.

"Why do you keep talking about that?" His voice wavered, his usual confident tone slipping into something more desperate. "Aren't you happy here? With me?"

You tried to reason with him, but his grip only tightened. His eyes, usually bright and full of life, had a wildness to them.

"You belong here now" he murmured, more to himself than to you.

From then on, he never left your side. Your freedom was a distant memory. Anytime you tried sneaking off to talk to Tails, Sonic was there. If you attempted to run, he caught you within seconds, always smiling, always acting like it was a game.

"Aw, c'mon, Y/N, you know you can't outrun me."

Every time you tried to bring up leaving, his mood shifted. His smiles became forced, his voice strained.

"Look." he eventually said one night, his voice eerily soft as he trapped you in his arms. "I don't care what reality you came from. This is where you stay."

No matter how fast you tried to run, Sonic would always be faster.

And he wasn't letting you go.

Shadow:

Unlike Sonic, Shadow wasn't immediately friendly.

He kept his distance when you first arrived in the world, observing you with narrowed, calculating eyes. He didn't trust you, not at first. You were an anomaly, something that shouldn't exist in his reality.

But as time passed, Shadow became curious about you. How did you know so much about him? Why did you seem so comfortable around him when most people feared him?

You intrigued him.

Slowly, he started spending more time around you. He was never openly affectionate, but he showed his care in small ways, keeping you close when woth others, ensuring you never strayed too far, glaring at anyone who got too friendly with you.

And then, one day, you mentioned wanting to go home.

Shadow froze.

"You want to leave?" His voice was cold, unreadable.

You explained everything, the fact that he and his world were fictional in your reality, that you had a life to return to. You expected him to be logical about it.

Instead, his expression darkened.

"No."

You turned back to him. "...No?"

Shadow stepped closer, his eyes burning into yours.

"You belong here. With me."

It wasn't a request. It was a statement.

That was when your nightmare truly began.

Shadow started following you everywhere, wether you were aware or not. Always watching, always near. If you ever tried to leave his sight, he'd appear within seconds, his expression always unreadable.

He sabotaged any attempt you made to leave. If you tried to seek help from Tails or Eggman, their machines mysteriously malfunctioned. If you ran, Shadow found you instantly, his Chaos Control ensuring you never got far.

He never hurt you, but his presence was suffocating. Every conversation ended the same way.

"You can't leave."

There was no reasoning with him.

Shadow wasn't keeping you here out of malice.

He was keeping you here because, to him, you were the only thing left worth protecting.

Even if it meant stealing your freedom.

Silver:

Silver was the sweetest at first.

He was kind, gentle, and eager to help you. When you arrived in his world, he was fascinated, your knowledge, your personality, your very existence intrigued him.

And for a while, everything was perfect.

Silver went out of his way to make you comfortable, ensuring you had everything you needed. He was protective, but not overbearing, at least, not at first.

But then, you mentioned going home.

Silver's expression fell, his ears flattening. "What...? You want to leave?"

You tried to explain, but his hands trembled as he grasped your shoulders.

"You can't leave." His voice wavered, his usual optimism crumbling. "I need you here."

From that moment on, Silver changed.

He became more desperate, always clinging to you one way or another, never being more than three feet from you.

Whenever you tried to argue, he just shook his head, pleading. "Please don't talk like that. I love you, Y/N."

He would do anything to keep you.

And if that meant trapping you in his world forever...

Then so be it.

[comicallyqueer]

First of all, just as a disclaimer, I would like to say that I have fully healed from this situation years ago, and now when I look back on it I feel humor rather than the negative feelings that I experienced at the time ( you can joke about this). I wanted to tell this story because it is a part of my lore, and without the backstory of the necklace, the remaining parts of the story aren't as funny.

I'm lucky that this is the only rejection to coming out that affected me, and I wasn't that close to this person. Most of the people in my life are very accepting, so don't feel too bad for me.

[pranabefall]

✸ — MISC NOTICE. ; minors dni. zhongli x reader. again, some pure fluff but as an mdni blog i'm holding repellent XD. mostly silly silly stuff ihgfghj reader is implied to have studied in the sumeru akademiya. not edited!!!

"You're awake."

It's more a statement then anything else, Zhongli's arm snakes round you, steady in it's grasp. "I know you are." he adds, in a way where the depths of his chest seemed to rumble slow, slow, slowly.

You crack an eye open and stare straight at him, a sheepish grin flickering across for a moment ( only for a moment. You're incorrigible, as Zhongli liked to say ). "I've been thinking." You begin, your breath half caught at the back of your mouth. An excited thrum dances over your fingertips and you're half dizzy from the buzz and the tire. So much, there's so much, your stomach feels like it's about to explode.

"It's too early." he glances over at you with a pointed raise to his brow. "You can barely hear the birds out. Go back to sleep now." His hands are gentle against your cheek and you're almost swayed by the rumbling timbre of his voice and the low cadence. It's lulling you, but by bit, deeper and deeper.

"I've been thinking." You repeat with a little more force, lifting your head up to state your point across. You collapse back down a moment later when the room spins a bit. Perhaps you were too hasty ( goddammit ) and you content yourself with settling into the mattress and pulling the blanket over your shoulders.

His lashes flutter. There is fond exasperation there, melting into his chest and his nearly-there smile like butter. Its the most Zhongli thing about him, the tiny moments and peeks in through. "Alas." He sighs, nudging you close, laying your head over his bicep. "Tell me then."

Zhongli watches the way your shoulders hunch and your lips quirk. "A willing audience? How grand..."

"A little too willing, I'm afraid. I spoiled you so."

Your hands splay against his shoulders. He's warm.

"It's only going to take a minute. In fact, it's only a question. All I need are answers and that will only take as long as you want it to."

Ah there it is, the narrowed squint, the subtle shift and the signs of a slightly more alert Zhongli ( the Zhongli who'd straighten his back and cattishly stare at someone who dares to mention the name of some obscure historic even or little known tea ). "Ask me, then."

You fall silent, looking for your words.

"I was wondering. Is geo resonance susceptible to tearing apart organic tissue? How little is needed for it to do so, and how little for it to...not...?"

You don't think there is a sane way of phrasing that, to be fair. But you'd ask stranger things, always digging and questioning and presenting the wildest little ideas on odd days of the week. It's a side effect of the Akademiya and a lack of sages sushing you into a corner with a pile of textbooks and dry edged annoyance. And maybe the very aforementioned abandonment of shame.

"And by organic tissue..."

"Human flesh, Zhongli."

"Ah."

"More specifically muscles, tendons, bones...maybe even neural tissue to be fair. Any of that stuff."

Zhongli has the grace to not react, or give much away in his contemplation. You knock your head against his chin in gentle assurance. "You don't have to answer of course."

"It's certainly a strange one." He admits.

"It is." You grumble.

"Well..." He trails off before a breathy little chuckle trembles past. "We'll, I can't say I know a proper answer to this one. It's quite specific isn't it?"

"Horribly so. Different tissue have different densities. You can afford to be a little rougher with bone, for example. But something softer like grey matter would require far more finesse."

His hand is steady against the small of your back. "And you ask this because..."

Your lips tug at the corners. "An old junior of mine sent a letter in. The boy graduated from the Spantamad Darshan in my absence and had plenty of news to share regarding a few new experiments with elemental energy and the like." You turn over a moment. "If we could find the precise frequency needed, we may just be able to utilize geo resonances for medical diagnostics."

Zhongli blinks. It's a slow, thoughtful thing.

"That is fascinating." He muses. "So you seek to map put internal injuries then? Or perhaps tumours?"

"Yes!" You eagerly nod at that. "There are Fontanian inventors...and skilled akademics. They're calling a few alumni in to aud in the research."

Your cheek tucks into the crook of his neck. You feel his warmth and the too-slow heartbeat carefully wrapped in his chest, between ribs and flesh — made of anything but stone ( You're filled with a hunger. Zhongli calls it endearing, your passion, as quiet as it can be sometimes ).

"You were invited too." He guesses.

"Yes."

His lips test against your neck. "How long?"

"A while." You look outside, to the balcony and the horizon in the distance. Then you see Zhongli's face, his hair undone and sweep against your temple as he kisses you proper.

"Then go, little love."

"Are you sure?" You suddenly feel awful, and small, and selfish. Liyue had stuck fast to the buttery feelings in your chest and Zhongli had made himself a home there as well. A part of you wants to sneak him into your trunk, sprit him away to Sumeru. It's greedy, immature ( he's always waited for you, patiently ).

"Quite." He kisses your cheek next. "What's a few months?"

"An eternity." You grunt.

Zhongli is silent for a long, long moment. "Right now...it would be, yes." He says in the afterthoughts. "And will miss you terribly. But I've waited before, and I don't see why I cannot now."

He laces his fingers against yours.

"I'll write to you every week." You promise.

"Every week." He promises and he smiles his almost smile. You kiss his forehead. He sighs. "For now...I will say it again. Go to sleep."

"Yes, yes." You mutter, snuggling in. Zhongli tucks his hand beneath your knees and swings one leg over his waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

Let me be greedy, he seems to say.

You let him.

TAGLIST ノ join the taglist. — @silentmoths @meimeimeirin @sleepynoons @iuzas @endursent.

@jessamine-rose @ofoceansandtombsanew @chiyoso @loveliluc

[skzhua]

episode 1.

MASTERLIST

pairing: XO, Kitty's Min Ho x Female reader

genre: Fluff, angst, exes-to-lovers, slow burn, coming-of-age.

word count: 5.5k (not proofread yet!)

warnings: Cursing, post-breakup feelings.

summary: the first day back, and you already find yourself into a whirlwind of emotions, mainly caused by one guy you had been dreading to see for weeks.

note: Bold - Korean, Italic - Over the phone

(let me know by filling the form in my bio if you want to be added to the taglist!)

The holiday season was, by far, the time of the year you were the happiest. The music, the activities, the food, the people you'd spend that time with... That was the problem this year.

Getting to know Min Ho's mother was a blessing in itself. She welcomed you in her home with open arms — although she wasn't home often — and was nothing but a sweetheart to you. While the first days you spent in L.A. were close to what some would call the dream, you didn't love it so much. The people, who were far too superficial to your liking, and the house — being seven times bigger than your place in Korea — were two factors that totally removed the holiday spirit.

The third one would be Min Ho.

"Are you here yet?" you heard from your phone.

Three weeks had gone by since the incident, which meant that school was starting again. In your opinion, the winter break should have lasted much longer than this. Not only because you were dreading the amount of schoolwork you would get, but also because you knew there would be faces you just weren't ready to see again.

"I just got in the taxi," you chuckled as an answer. "Did you save me a bed?"

"I did, but your room won't be with me and Juliana," Yuri informed you, a glint of guilt in her voice.

"Don't worry, as long as we have a dorm together."

You kept chatting for a bit until the car pulled in front of KISS. Your aunt turned around to face you from the driving seat, and you could see the worry on her face. While she had made sure to take care of you the best she could, you weren't doing any better. You knew she couldn't help but feel like it was her fault.

"Who was it?" she asked.

"Yuri."

"I'm glad she is around. At least, you'll have someone to lean on."

You scoffed. "I don't need a babysitter or a daily therapist."

"Just," she breathed out. "Try to enjoy yourself. Like before, don't hesitate to stop by my office if you need anything. Your uncle is also there if you-"

"Thanks," you said dryly, hurrying yourself to get out the car.

It felt both strange and familiar being back here. With a sigh, you gathered your luggage and began to head towards the entrance. It wasn't long until you were engulfed into a hug, one so warm that it wasn't hard to guess who it was.

"Get off," you whined jokingly.

"I didn't see you for a month, let me be clingy for a day, will you?" Q argued as he let go. "Did you get taller?"

You rolled your eyes. "A month isn't that long!"

"Can you just let me be sweet and tell you I missed you? Jeez, I forgot how grumpy you could be..."

You smacked his arm lightly, finally letting a laugh out. "Fine, I did miss you too."

"Knew it," he smiled satisfactorily. His eyes were quick to shift from you to something behind you — or rather someone. "Look who's back!"

Turning around, it took you a second to spot Kitty discuss with Professor Lee — now Principal Lee for obvious reasons — and Alex. Q didn't skip a beat in abandoning you to run towards Kitty. In his defence, he was most likely the one who was most excited to see Kitty when it was made known that Yuri brought her back to KISS. You wouldn't admit it out-loud but she truly was one of the few people you were looking forward to see again.

"Holy shit! There's my chaos queen!" Q almost screamed before hugging Kitty, definitely tighter than with you.

Kitty squealed as they reunited. "Dude, I'm so happy to see you!"

"Me too," he squealed back.

This was definitely a show for you to see as you slowly made your way to join the pair. Kitty finally saw you and hugged you just about the same, blabbering about how she couldn't believe she was back to see Q and you again. The excitement in her died down quickly, though, as she remembered she was next to Principal Lee.

"Also, so happy to share with you both how serious I'm going to take my classes this year at KISS."

You held back a giggle. "Right, yes!"

"That's literally what we've been saying this whole time," Q added, playing along.

A call interrupted Principal Lee's watch party which allowed both of your friends to squeal once more, much to your ears' demise.

"We have so much to talk-" Kitty began to say, only for Alex to cut the conversation short.

"Dad's been feeling a little bit stressed," he informed, something you found so odd to come out of his mouth. "I've been staying with him over the break. We're in, like, some hilarious buddy comedy."

As much as you appreciated Alex, you wanted nothing more but to be elsewhere at this exact moment. Not that you weren't glad he was getting to spend time with his father, but the way he was telling you about it was almost... cringe? (No, it definitely was.)

"Alex!" Principal Lee called out.

"Yeah, I'm coming! I'd better go," he said as he began to walk away. "Kitty, I'm really happy you're back."

Kitty responded with a warm smile. "Thanks. Me too."

Once Alex left, Q helped Kitty get her luggage while you tried to somehow make your two traveling bags work, stacking one on top of another.

"You okay there, Y/N?" Kitty laughed.

"Maybe I need a hand?" you smiled awkwardly, looking at Q specifically.

"Give me your bag already."

The three of you finally walked into the campus, as many other students did the same. The breath smelled like home, but the ambiance had a twinge of foreign energy. Maybe they changed the decoration. Maybe you had to get used to seeing younger new students everywhere. Maybe there was a little something you were still not ready to confront and being back didn't help...

"Crap, I wanted to ask Lee about that Simon guy from my mom's letter," Kitty said, disappointed a bit.

"You have all semester to find Simon," Q stated.

Kitty shook her head. "No, I am done wasting time. At home everyone was asking me questions. Lara Jean, Margot and even Peter because he practically lives at our house on school breaks."

And that was also what you did for an entire week of your school break. You won't do the same mistake again, that's for sure.

"They wanted to know what I learned about my mom," she continued. "How my Korean was... And I realized, I hadn't really learn anything about my mom. Like, not actually. And I almost flunked out. My Hangul sucks... So this semester, it's Kitty 2.0. I'm living in a single, I'm going to be single."

You really did forget how much of a yapper she was. It might be annoying at times but you were thankful she was there to fill in the lack of interaction on your part. For some reason, the ground was much more interesting, so were the trees. Since when were there that many trees on campus? Were they always there?

"I think it's kind of a shame to be swearing off love right after you discover you're bi," Q sighed.

"No, I didn't say I'd be a monk, okay?" Kitty defended. "I want to try dating girls."

Well, that was always an option for you to discover too, if some things were to happen. By things, you meant one, really.

"But maybe someone outside my direct friend group. Less potential for drama."

Sometimes, it is worth it to listen entirely to what Kitty had to say. Most of the time, her struggles didn't apply to you. On that case, however, this was a good plan: not date in your friend group. Easy, no? You won't do the mistake again.

"But," Q sighed again. "Can you really be over Yuri already? I mean, she got you back into KISS."

"Lara Jean convinced me to write a goodbye letter to Yuri," Kitty answered, as if she had been prepared for any scenario. You wished she could give you some of that energy. "Just like she did for all the boys she loved. And I brought that letter with me so I can reread it in case I find myself slipping into old habits. You know that you can write one for Florian, and you can write one for Min Ho."

You raised an eyebrow as to tell her you would never, but this was something to consider. At this point, if it wasn't obvious already, you were doing everything you could to forget about your ex-boyfriend.

Q, as for him, shook his head. "Actually, Florian made it really easy to get over him by being a lying, cheating dumbass that almost cost Dae his scholarship."

"You did the right thing, turning him in," Kitty said with an approving nod.

"I also didn't mean to trigger an investigation that caused a bunch of other students to be expelled too," Q said along with a chuckle to hide his discomfort. "I guess we're both chaos queens."

"Clearly, Y/N isn't."

You shot your head up at the mention of your name, looking at the two in confusion. "Sorry, what?"

"Are you alright? You've been awfully quiet," Kitty asked, concern in her voice.

"I-" you began only for Q to cut you off.

"Oh, look. There are the boys," he gestured right in front of you three. "Dae! Min Ho!"

The said-boys had just picked their coffee order as they spotted Q calling them out, spotting Kitty and you as well in the process. Suddenly, it felt like the entire world stopped, but not in a good way. For what felt like minutes, Min Ho and you held eye contact. You tried to decipher what his eyes were telling you; was he sad? Mad? Scared? You weren't sure. He had always been good at hiding how he was truly feeling. What you knew was that you certainly weren't feeling so good. Seeing him after things fell apart was like a knife stabbing you in an already opened wound. At the same time, your body was almost being pulled to his... You wondered if he was feeling the same.

You saw him gulp before he broke your staring session, pulling Dae away from your sight with him. It was a matter of seconds before you couldn't see either of them.

"That was weird, right?" Q said, confusion spread onto his face. "What was that about?"

"Oh, they probably just didn't see us," Kitty tried to shrug it off but Q didn't buy it.

"No, they definitely saw us."

"I'll go find my room," you muttered, wanting nothing but to leave.

"Yeah, I'll do the same! I'll see you at the assembly."

He gave you both a look but didn't insist on it. "All right," he sighed, giving you back your bag.

"Thank you," you smiled as you and Kitty change directions, now walking towards the girls dormitories.

"You saved me, there," Kitty thanked you.

"Saved us both, you mean," you corrected.

"Right, I keep forgetting. It's just, it was going so well between you two. It's still surreal to me that it didn't work out."

You scoffed. "Blame Min Ho for that."

"I just wish you didn't have to go through this alone."

"I'm fine, I promise," you lied, though she probably could tell you were hiding your pain.

"If you need anything, my door is always open! Speaking of..." she said as you arrived at her dorm.

As soon as she tapped her key card on the sensor, the door flew open, revealing Yuri in all of her glory. You quickly put two and two together, concluding this was also your dorm and that you would share it with Kitty, Yuri and Juliana. That's something you were comfortable with. As for Kitty, her face told you she didn't have the same thoughts as you.

"Kitty, I missed you so much!" Yuri exclaimed, hugging her tightly at the same time. "And Y/N!" she said, hugging you too. "You've been sobbing on your own for too long. I was starting to think you wouldn't show up."

You laughed slightly. "It's good to see you, Yuri."

She went for another hug with Kitty, who told her she missed her just the same while her face remained as shocked.

"I thought about you all break, and I was so excited you were coming back," Yuri said.

"Me too," Kitty answered. "And I only got to come back because of you."

"And now," she started, looking at the two of you. "We get to live together?" she said with amazement, earning a confused look frim Kitty.

"What? I signed up for a single. There must be a mistake."

"This is not a mistake. This is fate," Yuri affirmed with conviction.

"What's that about fate?" someone behind Yuri, who could only be Juliana, asked.

"Hey, Kitty. I'm Juliana. Oh, hey, Y/N'" she waved at you before focusing back on Kitty. "It's nice to finally met the girl that helped me and Yuri get back together."

Yuri agreed happily. "Can you believe this? The four of us are roomates? A dream come true. Especially with you," she nudged your arm. "It'll do you some good, I promise."

"Thanks, Yuri," you said gratefully. "Shall we come in?"

"Oh my, yes, of course!" Yuri exclaimed before making way for you and Kitty to come inside.

The dorm was slightly different than last year. While all the furniture looked rather similar, the arrangement of the rooms were different. There was a room with two beds, which was obviously taken by the couple given their clothes were already in the process of being transferred into the closets. The other room had a bunk bed and a single on on the other side of the room. With the number of students increasing each year, it made sense that the room had an additional resident.

As you settled slowly but surely, you all refrouped around the kitchen counter, taking the moment to, again, rejoice about your reunion.

"Wow! This... I didn't... Wow!" Kitty stammered and it took everything in you to not react to her clumsy behaviour

"I think Kitty's at a loss for words," Juliana chuckled and you allowed yourself to copy her.

"I had no idea you were staying on campus this semester," Kitty said to Yuri.

"Oh. Last-minute decision. I had to get out of my parents' place," she sighed, pouring herself some tea in the process. "Bad vibes there... They're getting divorced."

"What?" Kitty exclaimed.

You made your way around the kitchen counter, putting your hand on your friend's shoulder. "I'm so sorry! You should have told me, I would have been there for you."

She shrugged. "It's fine, you weren't exactly able to help be with it, anyway... Honestly, it should have happened years ago. Now, my mom's in Thailand, off the grid at some wellness center, rejuvenating."

There was a small knot forming in your guts as the guilt for not being as available as usual spread in you. Nonetheless, she did send a smirk your way as to show she wasn't that mad. A relief.

"But let's talk about how much fun we're gonna have living together! I can't wait for you three to get to know each other." she said enthusiastically before turning to her girlfriend.

Kitty's emotions were very clear in her face. Panic, discomfort, and hurt. To save her from making it even more obvious to the girls about her crush, you nudged her arm which seemed to bring her back from her headspace.

"Hello?" a voice called out at the entrance. Seconds later, a girl walked in, bringing with her a few suitcases. "Hi, I'm Stella. Stella Cho. Give me one second... This place is like twelve times bigger than my old school," she muttered as she caught her breath.

You exchanged looks with Kitty before focusing back on the girl.

"And, here is the last roomate," you greeted her kindly. "I'm Y/N. And this is Juliana, her girlfriend Yuri-"

"Wow," she breathed out, looking at the couple. "They let you guys live together?"

Yuri shook her head. "They don't know. If they did, they wouldn't let us live together."

"And there's a rumor going around that they're implementing room checks every single night, so we have to be extra careful," Juliana added.

"Well, my lips are sealed!"

"Oh, and I'm Kitty," your friend pitched in. "You can bunk with me and Y/N."

"Oh, cool! Um, can one of you show me how to get to the administration office? I still have to register‐"

"Yes, I can show you. Right now," Kitty offered, a bit too fast in your opinion. "If you don't sign up ASAP, you'll end up with the worst professors, so let's go."

"Wait, wait," Yuri stopped them."Before you go, we are planning a fun group barbecue dinner tonight, on me. Are you guys in? 7:00 p.m.?"

"Of course I'm in," you cheered.

Stella's eyes grew bigger, so did her smile. "Are you kidding? I would love that."

"Uh..." Kitty started and you knew it would be, yet, another poor attempt at excusing herself. "Dang. I wish I could, but I promised my sisters that I would FaceTime them and tell them about the first day back, so..."

Juliana's eyebrow went up. "Won't it be like 2:00 a.m. in Portland?"

Kitty smiled awkwardly. "Indeed, it will be. Yes. Good point. Well, I'm... I'm in. " She turned to Stella, pushing her towards the door. "Let's leave right now."

"They're in," Juliana repeated before walking up to the refrigerator.

Yuri gave you a look. "Is she okay?"

You shrugged. "Kitty? She's always like that."

"I guess I just forgot. She didn't exactly reach out to me during the break. Speaking of which, you also sort of disappeared after the break up."

Your shoulders dropped. "I don't want to get into it."

"You've been saying this for a month! I really think talking about what happened to a friend will help you deal with your emotions."

Something you noticed since the previous semester was that you struggled much more with opening up than you thought. With Min Ho, you started to think you could finally reveal yourself fully to people. However, he quickly made you move three steps back from the improvement you made. Especially in terms of your parents.

"He cheated?"

A small laugh left your lips. "He did not. He... He crashed out, basically."

"In English, please! I want to help too," Juliana joined in, already chewing her granola bar.

You took a deep breath before jumping into the story of how things unfolded. "The first two or three days were fine. I was mostly staying at the house, to be honest. Min Ho was out clubbing, that night. I didn't go, I was too tired. His mom had just left for some meeting and she still wasn't back. Anyway, when he got back, I don't know what took over him. He said some unclear stuff about me ruining everything." You stopped for a second to recollect your emotions as you felt the tears at the brim of your eyes. "He blamed me for his mom leaving him again. When I tried to resonate with him, he burst out by saying I couldn't understand him since I didn't have parents."

Yuri took your hand, rubbing the top of it with her thumb. "Y/N, I'm so sorry."

"I didn't even wait until morning to leave. I packed, booked a last-minute flight, and left." You paused. "What hurt the most is that he didn't even apologize. And he didn't try to stop me from leaving. It's like he had no remorse."

"It's Min Ho," Juliana said. "He has no consideration for people other than himself."

"I would argue with that," Yuri disagreed. "But yes, this was a dick move."

You could feel your breath get caught in your throat, which was a sign for you to stop talking about it. "Anyway, should we go to the assembly? We wouldn't want to be late."

And with that, you picked up your purse and headed straight out of the dorm, leaving the two girls with nothing but worry about you.

"Students, please take your seats so we can begin!" Principal Lim spoke up on stage, waiting a few seconds for students to quiet down. "Thank you. Students, faculty, and distinguished board of directors, welcome to spring semester at the Korean Independent School of Seoul..."

"How long is this going to last?" Juliana whined.

"Knowing him, hours probably," you answered only to be responded by a groan. "Complain all you want but I haven't seen the one person I'm avoiding, so I'm pretty glad we're in it for hours."

"You're unbelievable."

"I'd take this over facing Min Ho any day."

Yuri sent a look your way. "You do know you will have to face him one way or another, right?"

"And I'll do everything to push that moment as far as I can."

"Well..."

You knew that tone too well. "Yuri," you said in a warning voice.

"He'll be there tonight..."

"Yuri," you repeated, a bit louder this time.

"I didn't know he was that much of a jerk to you!"

You crossed your arms on your chest, not wanting to continue this conversation. It was evident that what happened would affect the friend group. You just didn't expect it to be so soon. And, of course, who were you to make your friends choose between Min Ho and you? After all, you hadn't reacted so well to Min Ho's outburst. As much as he insulted you, you had your fair share of names you called him: spoiled, entitled, narcissist, obnoxious, fake... You hadn't been much of an angel either.

"Moving on to point number four," Lee continued as you focused back on his announcement. "Nightly curfew checks for all dormitory students."

Your two friends grunted at the statement, rolling their eyes as well. Their annoyance did not last long as club music began to blast within the entire auditorium before the lights shut off. The doors suddenly flew open revealing Young Moon, also famously known as your ex-boyfriend's father. With back up dancers following him, he trotted all the way to the stage with a confidence that Min Ho definitely inherited. An entrance that was television worthy let's say.

"Are you ready, Korean Independent School of Seoul?"

Choreography, flashy smiles, interaction with the crowd... You were starting to wonder if you were at school or at a concert for a second. A few more dance moves, and the music finally died down, leaving a stressed Principal Lee on stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Mr. Moon spoke in the microphone. "It is time to shoot for the moon and..."

"Lang amongst the stars!" the majority of the students continued in shouts.

"You heard it here first," he kept talking. "Moon Management is launching a performing arts program that will make your school the envy of the entire world. And just maybe one of you will be my next superstar."

The crowd cheered once more. Meanwhile, to say you were thrilled would be a lie. Min Ho told you how his father really was. This, it was for show and show only. Looking around at the students who were screaming still, your heart stopped when you saw him again, leaning on a wall at the back of the room. His face had no expression, meaning he was deeply unimpressed with how his father was acting on the other side of the auditorium. He hadn't changed much, you noticed. His hair still fell perfectly on his face; his jawline was still sharper than a knife; his lips seemed even softer than you remembered it... You looked elsewhere before your body would do something out of your control, like walk up to him.

"I'm thinking this blazer," Kitty showed you.

"Cute," you smiled.

Stella, for her part, took a crocheted sweater out of her suitcase. "And I think this is cute, no?"

"With the dress, it's perfect," you approved but Stella could only frown.

"Are you not coming?"

You shrugged. "I don't know. It's been a pretty long day."

Your friend, stubborn like she is, shook her head in disapproval before pulling out a knitted cropped shirt with elongated black pants from the drawer you had previously filled that morning. "You're coming with us, and you're wearing this."

"I love you, and I like your enthusiasm, but no."

"Y/N, it's my second chance at studying here. If I can finally be with all my friends again on the first day, I want you there with me. It won't be the same otherwise."

Her little pouty face was enough for you to suck it up and agree to come along.

An hour later, and the five roommates were walking together to the barbecue restaurant that Yuri picked out. In the end, Kitty was right and taking some fresh air with your friends was probably what you needed. And so what if you met Min Ho? You could always ignore him.

"Kitty!"

All of your eyes turned to the voice and you found Dae. As sweet-looking as he is, he happily hugged Kitty before finally seeing you were there too, embracing you as well.

"It's so good to see you," Kitty exclaimed, all giddy and shit. "I'm so sorry we didn't get a chance to talk earlier."

"Right, speaking of which..." he started and then turned to you. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Me?" you asked, mostly surprised.

"I know I'm asking a lot of you, but can you talk to Min Ho?"

"Dae-"

"He's mad that his dad is here, but I feel like he's also upset about... you know. I think he wants to go over what happened with you, but he's not brave enough to do so. Besides, I feel like he is still upset because of me. I went a bit crazy accusing him and I hate thinking it might have ruined our, but also your relationship."

"You had nothing to do with it, I promise. And..." You stopped to glance at him for a moment. "I'll talk to him."

"Thank you," he said gratefully.

Him and Kitty didn't waste a second to leave you some space as they joined your other friends who were already chatting in front of the restaurant's door. You broke your focus on them to bring it to the back of Min Ho's head. Fiddling with your fingers, you hesitated. But then, you couldn't let Dae down. And maybe you couldn't let yourself get away from the opportunity to speak on the fact.

"Min Ho!"

As soon as he turned around, it was that same feeling you'd been having every time you saw his face today. As much as you wanted to hate him, you couldn't. Not only that, but his perfect features reminded of better days, something you were still secretly holding onto.

"Walk with me?"

As soon as the words left your mouth, a small smile appeared on his face. Silently, he left the others to join your side and you began to stroll around mindlessly. It reminded you a little too much of other nights like these. You hoped he could see how much energy you were putting into not accidentally grabbing his hand.

"I-" he tried to say but stopped himself. "When you left, there was this voice in my head telling me to go after you."

"But you didn't."

He let a breath out. "I didn't think you'd want to talk after-"

"I know," you exhaled. "But I wanted you to. And when you didn't even try to stop me, let alone apologize, it... It broke my heart ten times more."

"I don't want to hear it... How much I hurt you, I mean. I was an idiot, I was drunk, and I was mad at life."

"As you always are, just saying."

He rolled his eyes but you both found the humor in it as small smiles appeared on your faces. "I'm truly sorry about what I said. I did not mean any of it."

"And I'm sorry for accusing you of being things that you aren't. Clearly, I was mad at life too."

"You were mad at me," he corrected.

"That's what I'm saying, yeah."

A blush appeared on his cheeks. Oh, how much you missed having this much effect on him.

"I'm not saying I want this to-"

"Of course not-"

"I still think you're an ass."

"And I still think you're annoying."

"It was a way for the universe to tell us this was not worth it."

"Yeah, who were we to think it would work out in the first place?"

"We were idiots."

"Yeah."

A silence settled between the two of you. For a minute or so, neither looked at each other and you even thought he didn't allow himself to breathe so he wouldn't make a sound. Finally, you decided to speak up.

"But you did smile," you said in the smallest voice possible.

"I'm sorry?" he leaned down to hear you better.

"When I implied just now that you were my life, you smiled. So, why did you if you supposedly believe we were stupid to think we were a match?" you asked in a challenging voice.

You could see in his eyes that it awoke something in him, a playful side of him that you hadn't seen in what felt like years.

"That was a grimace, puppy."

You shut your eyes in annoyance. "Oh gosh, you're still as much of a dick as I remember."

He smirked. "You remember my dick, uh?"

"Moon Min Ho, I swear to God, I will-"

"Guys?" You fucking thanked Dae mentally. "Our table's ready." He looked between you two, unsure if your conversation had turned on the negative or positive side. "All good?"

"Yeah," Min Ho answered. "Just telling Y/N how happy I am I won't have to be her servant by making her coffee every morning again."

You shook your head in disapproval. "Hmm, and I was telling him how great it is to not be living with a control freak who protects his skin care products like it's his children."

Dae laughed, seeing it was pure harmless bickering. "I see."

He went in, and the two of you followed behind closely. Yuri made the reservation, meaning there was more than enough room to fit the entire group. You were about 10 people in total and, in all honesty, it felt great to not be alone for once. Sure, one of the people was your ex, but at least you cleared the air a bit. As you sat down, you introduced Stella to Min Ho, figuring she would appreciate not getting left out for being the new girl. The three of you chattered for a while and it was incredible to you how you were so at ease with Min Ho around compared to earlier that day.

Yuri then made a toast, stopping everyone from talking. "Thank you for coming, everyone. I hope you all had a great break. Mine was kind of a mixed bag, to be honest." All of your breaks were one hell of a ride, you thought. " But the thing that kept me going was knowing that, no matter how messed up my family is, and they can be very very messed up..." This earned a mutual chuckle. "They're not my only family. I made a little family of my own here last semester. So this dinner is really to say thank you to all of you here. Cheers!"

You collectively clang your glasses together, and it took you no time to dig in your plates. You hadn't had bibimbap in a while so you didn't stop yourself from stuffing your mouth.

"Want mine?" Min Ho offered, almost in a mocking way.

"You've seen me in worse states," you grumbled, food still in your mouth.

"No really," he insisted, putting the one he grabbed for himself in front of you. "Take it."

"Y/N?"

Your head shot from your phone to Stella. "Oh, hey Stella! What's up?"

"I noticed how you tried to make me feel included with introducing to people, like Min Ho. You two are friends, right?"

"More or less..." you answered carefully, unsure on where this was going.

She took a step closer, eyes on the floor. "Well, I think he's really cute, and we were talking a lot at dinner and... I think I'm gonna ask him out!"

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[sensitivepluto]

I'll Carry You

Katsuki Bakugou x Gn!Reader

TW: slight angst/comfort, mention of injuries

This is my first time writing on tumblr and still learning the format. so...be gentle <3 I'll be making an introduction post later!

"You just gonna lay there?" Bakugou's gruff voice cut through your fuzzy thoughts like a knife. Every bone in your body was riddled with ache. Bruises and cuts covered you from head to toe from the fight you'd given everything to win. It was over now...The villain defeated, people were saved, the storm finally calmed. However, it left you and many other heroes injured and exhausted.

"Oi!" He shouted, snapping his fingers in your face. Had you dozed off? Maybe he was just upset that you hadn't answered him yet. When you finally looked up at him, you found he was much closer than he sounded. Weird. You thought. He was talking to you. His face contorted into that angry scowl you'd come to adore.

"Kats-" You cut yourself off. Too tired to even finish his name? He pressed a hand into your cheek with a gentleness most unlike him. Now that you had a good look at his face, you realize that anger isn't the glowing expression on his face, but you couldn't quite place it.

"Can you hear me?" He asked gruffly, but much softer than before. His eyes scanned your body over and over. Trying to find major injuries. You nodded at him absentmindedly.

" 'M tired..." You trailed off. He hummed and continued his thorough search over you.

"Can you stand?" He asked. You shrugged. You've been on the ground for who knows how long. How were you supposed to know if you could walk? He sighed and looped his arms under yours. If you weren't so out of it you would've blushed at the sheer closeness of him.

"Come on," He grunted, pulling you into a stand. You stood unsteady on your feet, holding onto him for dear life.

"I'm not going to let you fall, I just want to see if you can walk." He assured you. A whine of pain left your throat when you put weight on your right foot. Was it broken? When did that happen?

He noticed your grimace immediately and grumbled something inaudible to you. For just a moment when you were finally balanced on your left foot, he turned his back to you and crouched.

"Get on my back. Before your ass falls again. I'm taking you to first aid." He huffed at you. You nodded and with his help climbed onto his back. He got up, adjusted you, and began walking to the first aid station about a mile away.

A comfortable silence enveloped you and him. You hummed as you fought to keep your eyes open. It was difficult with how tired you felt and how warm his body was against yours. Apparently he noticed how your breath was slowing against his neck because he adjusted you again and jolted you awake.

"You okay back there?" He questioned. You were too out of it to realize the worry in his voice.

"Mhmmmm" You mumbled sleepily. "M just...tired."

"Don't fall asleep yet, ya hear. Wanna make sure you don't have a concussion first." He grumbled. You just nodded with a yawn, nuzzling your face further into his neck.

You were close to the first aid station, from what you could tell. You could hear people shouting directions at others in the distance. Your time so close to him was almost over. Another whine left you involuntarily.

"You okay?" He asked.

"Yeah..." You yawned. "J'st love you."

He stopped in his tracks. You had started drifting off immediately after your revelation. His heart thumped seemingly in his throat. You loved him. You loved him.

A small, almost unseen smile graced his lips as he finished his trek to the first aid station. When he set you down on the cot laid for you, you fought weakly in your sleep to hold onto him. He smoothed his thumb over your furrowed brow. A sigh left his lips.

"Love ya too."

[kunareads]

worst behavior

sukuna x reader

sukuna doesn't just like to argue with you. he likes to lose.

masterlist

wc: 5.7k

this is 5.7k words of straight porn. IN MY DEFENSE, i think about being mean to him everyday.

content: friend!sukuna, smut!!! kissing, dom-ish reader (not the whole time)? oral (f! and m! receiving), fingering, squirting, unprotected p in v sex, choking, some overstimulation, gagging (she stuffs her panties in his mouth call it what you want), reader wants to strangle him lowkey

18+ please i block children <3

the cabin hums with warmth, the scent of firewood and something sweet drifting through the air. outside, snow blankets the trees, and cold wind howls against the windows. inside, easy laughter and the comfortable chaos of a weekend ski trip. the kind of night that makes you glad you came along.

sukuna arrives late, kicking the door open with a gust of icy air. He drops his bag like he owns the place. he tracks snow inside, ignoring complaints, slings an arm over the couch, and gives you this stupid look like he's waiting for you to say something. so you do.

you tell him to shut the fuck up before he even has the chance to speak, and his grin only widens, eyes glinting with something sharper than amusement.

it doesn't stop there. over the weekend, he lingers in your space, testing your patience with a practiced ease. he blocks your view of the tv until you kick him. he interrupts you mid-sentence just to get a reaction. he bumps into you, unnecessary and on purpose, his hand catching your waist for a second too long before he steps back with a grin like he's daring you to push him harder.

you do. you bite back every time with sharp words, sharper looks. and each time, his smirk turns lazy, satisfied.

it's not just teasing. it's calculated. the way he watches your mouth when you argue. the way his voice drops when he gets close like he knows exactly what he's doing.

you don't plan to give him the satisfaction.

+++

the cabin is quieter now. most of the group has dispersed to their rooms or sprawled out in the living room. the only sounds are the faint creak of floorboards under your socks and the low hum of the refrigerator as you rummage for snacks.

you're barely two bites into a cookie when you hear a familiar chuckle.

"midnight cravings?"

you glance up as sukuna strolls into the kitchen, moving with his typical cockiness. he's ditched his hoodie, leaving his tattoos exposed under a plain black t-shirt that fits a little too well.

"something like that," you say, narrowing your eyes as he steps closer. "shouldn't you be asleep?"

"couldn't sleep," he replies casually as he reaches past you, unnecessarily, into the cabinet. his arm brushes against yours, just enough for you to feel the warmth of his skin. your breath catches before you can stop it. sukuna notices.

"do you mind?" you ask, crossing your arms.

"not at all," he says, watching you, amused as he leans against the counter across from you. he doesn't take his eyes off you as he opens the cookie package, inspecting the contents.

"you're insufferable," you mutter, shaking your head.

he chuckles at your expression, and then, just to be an ass, he reaches out, plucks the cookie from your hand, and takes a bite.

you stare at him, speechless. then irritation bubbles up, hot and sharp. "you—"

"—shouldn't eat so much sugar this late?" he finishes smoothly, chewing like he's enjoying himself. "i know. just looking out for you."

"you're a nightmare."

his gaze flickers to your mouth. "you like it."

you feel the air shift.

it's not the first time he's looked at you like this, but it feels different tonight. charged. his grin sharpens each time you snap at him, like he's feeding off it.

"you've messing with me all weekend," you say, sharply. "why?"

"i like the way you look at me when you're pissed," he shrugs. "nothing else like it."

your stomach flips.

"what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"exactly what it sounds like," he says, his voice low.

the casual way he says it makes your pulse quicken. you hate how your body reacts to him. hate that you're noticing the way his voice dips lower, the way the air between you feels warmer.

"you're so full of yourself, sukuna," you mutter, shaking your head.

"i've been called worse."

you should end this here. roll your eyes and walk away. instead, you stay rooted in place, staring him down.

and sukuna, predictably, steps closer.

he's obviously baiting you. but there's something real under his teasing now, something undeniable in the way his gaze drops to your lips.

your instinct is to push him back, to say something biting. but you don't. you tilt your chin up, refusing to back down.

his fingers curl at your hips.

"tell me to stop," he says, his voice softer now.

you don't.

his smirk sharpens just slightly. "that's what i thought."

then he kisses you.

it's slow at first, like he's savoring the moment. his mouth moves against yours, teasing, testing. until you pull him closer, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him against you.

and his composure breaks.

sukuna growls against your lips, his hands tightening on your waist as he deepens the kiss, his body pressing into yours, pinning you against the counter. he bites your bottom lip, then soothes the sting with his tongue, a low groan escaping his throat when you slide your fingers into his hair.

you're both too lost in it to notice the footsteps approaching.

choso's voice cuts through the haze, flat and unimpressed. "please don't fuck in the kitchen."

you break apart instantly, your heart slamming against your ribs. sukuna, to his credit, barely looks fazed. his chest rises and falls heavily, his lips red and swollen, but he meets choso's stare without flinching.

"then get the fuck out," he says, voice rough.

when choso exits, grabbing the bag of chips he came for, there's silence.

then, sukuna turns back to you, grinning.

"my room. five minutes," you tell him.

his eyes flicker with something dark, his grin sharpening at the edges. "five minutes?"

you tilt your head, unbothered. "if you're not there, i'm taking care of myself."

for the first time this weekend, sukuna hesitates. he exhales deeply, looks at you for a second longer, and then he grins, slow and wolfish.

"five minutes."

+++

you shut the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment. the heat in your body hasn't cooled, not even close. if anything, it's harder to ignore now.

you don't rush. you glance around the room instead, fixing little things. you smooth the blanket, push your bag further under the bed, move a hoodie that's not even in the way.

you glance at the clock. two minutes left. a smile tugs at your lips. can he even last that long?

then the door creaks open. sukuna steps inside, shutting it behind him with an almost lazy push. early.

you sit on the edge of the bed and let the silence stretch a bit. "you're early."

he leans against the door, smirk lazy but his stance tense, coiled. waiting. "got impatient," he says, voice low. already making excuses.

your lips twitch. figures.

you tilt your head, watching him. he doesn't move closer. just stands there, gaze lingering on your face like he's waiting for something.

"well?" you murmur. "you made it. what now?"

his smirk lingers, but there's something darker there. "i was hoping you'd tell me."

"shouldn't you already know?" you muse. "considering how long you've been thinking about this."

his eyes flick to your mouth before settling back on your eyes. "maybe." a pause. "but i like the way you handle things."

you hum, letting your nails drag lightly down his chest. his breath stills. "then lock the door."

he doesn't hesitate. the click echoes in the silence before he crosses over to stand in front of you.

"bossy looks good on you," he murmurs.

your lips curl. "i'll keep that in mind."

you trace your fingers up his torso, watching the way his muscles twitch beneath your touch.

"what do you want, sukuna?" you ask, voice soft but firm.

his grin sharpens, his breathing unsteady. "depends on what you're offering."

a challenge.

your pulse thrums at the thought. he's giving you an opening, one you would've made for your self had he not offered.

you rise from the bed, tilting your chin up to hold his gaze. he observes you, the edges of his lips still curled as usual, but there's something else there now. his breath has slowed, his body tense, waiting.

"how bad do you want it?" you ask, fingers tracing a slow line along his jaw.

he squirms a bit beneath your touch. "bad," he answers, his voice already rough.

your lips twitch. of course, he does.

"then do what i say," you murmur, letting your fingers trail down his neck, pressing lightly a the base of his throat. you feel his exhale stutter.

his expression doesn't waver, but you feel the way his body reacts. his shoulders are tight, chest rising slow and deep, pulse pounding against your fingers as he moves to hold your hips.

"hands off," you say, your voice quiet but firm. "if you can't keep them to yourself, we're done."

there's a flicker of something in his eyes, maybe defiance or pride. restraint. but after a moment, he drops his hands to his sides.

"now," you say, your voice calculated. "get on the bed."

the flicker of hesitation is gone just as fast as it came. he obeys, sinking onto the edge of the bed, leaning back on his elbows, his legs spread just enough to make something hot coil in your stomach.

"take off your shirt."

"yes, ma'am," he says, smile widening.

you roll your eyes. "don't push it."

he pulls the fabric over his head and tosses it aside. his tattoos stand out stark against his skin, broad shoulders tapering into lean muscle.

you step forward, dragging a finger down the center of his chest, feeling the sharp inhale he takes at your touch.

"you look good like this," you murmur, watching his muscles twitch beneath your fingers.

his throat bobs when you trace over his ribs, his jaw going tight. "i'd look better with you on top of me."

"not yet," you hum.

his smirk falters just slightly, impatience creeping in. his hands flex against the sheets. he wants to touch you.

good.

you hook a finger under his chin, forcing him to meet your eyes. "you like following orders, sukuna?"

he inhales sharply, but he doesn't look away.

"…yeah," he admits. then, after a beat, softer, "from you."

your stomach tightens. you knew, but hearing it out loud sends heat curling through you.

"then be good," you say, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip. "and follow directions."

for once, he doesn't act smart. he just nods, slow and a little dazed.

you drop to your knees, settling between his legs. a sharp inhale rattles his chest. he doesn't move, doesn't reach for you. his hands stay at his sides, fingers twitching against the sheets.

"tell me if you want me to stop," you murmur, dragging your nails lightly up his thighs, just barely touching him.

he swallows hard. "i'll let you know."

you press a slow, open-mouthed kiss to his abdomen, just above the waistband of his sweatpants. his stomach tenses beneath your lips.

"fuck," he mutters under his breath, his hands gripping the sheets.

you smirk. he's trying so hard to keep still for you.

"you're really fucking hard," you muse, pressing a soft kiss over the fabric of his pants.

his hips twitch slightly as he inhales, trying to be patient. "you're a fucking tease."

"i know."

you palm him through the fabric, slow and deliberate. he tenses, a low groan slipping free.

"what do you want?" you ask, deceptively sweet.

"i want your fucking mouth," he grits out, his hips pressing against your hand despite himself.

you snap the waistband of his pants, smiling. "ask nicely."

he huffs. he's stubborn. for a moment, his pride nearly wins. but when you slide your hand up his length, teasing, his resolve crumbles.

"please."

"please, what?"

a beat. his breath is shaky now. "please, put your fucking mouth on me."

"good boy."

his whole body tenses at that, his dick twitching, but you don't give him a second to dwell.

"take them off," you order.

he lifts his hips to shove his sweatpants down. his boxers go with them and his dick springs free, flushed and leaking. desperate.

you meet his gaze as you press a kiss to his base, dragging your tongue along his shaft. his abs tense, a soft sigh slipping free.

"fuck," he mutters, wrecked already.

"sensitive," you hum.

his hips jerk when you take him in. his response is immediate—a sharp inhale, a low, desperate groan. his hips twitch, but he forces himself still.

"fuck, just like that," he rasps, his voice strained.

you set the pace, hollowing your cheeks, working him slow, letting him feel every flick of your tongue, every shift of pressure. his breathing turns ragged, his body tight with restraint.

you pull off slightly, a thin string of spit connecting your lips to him. his jaw locks, his hands grasping at the sheets tighter.

still watching him, you let your spit drip onto his length, slow and messy.

his whole body clenches, his dick flexing against his stomach. "fuck." his voice almost shakes.

you use your hand to spread it, twisting your wrist as you stroke him. he's flushed, completely at your mercy now.

"look at you," you coo, watching the way he reacts. "all worked up, and i've barely done anything."

he groans at that, his hips rolling involuntarily.

"you're gonna be good for me, right?" you tease, continuing your movements.

"yeah." it's barely a whisper.

you take him back into your mouth, swallowing him deeper. he shudders, letting out a moan. "so fucking good," he groans.

then his hand tangles in your hair, instinctive and desperate. you pull away instantly, releasing him with a soft pop.

he whines. an honest, sharp, needy whine. his hips jerk involuntarily. "fuck, what—"

"what did i tell you?" you ask, arching a brow.

his jaw clenches. "shit."

"if you can't follow directions, we're done," you say, your voice firm.

"please don't," he groans, dick twitching against his stomach, desperate.

"then behave."

you lean in, licking a slow stripe up his length before sucking him deep. his whole body shudders.

"fuck," he gasps, voice breaking.

you work him harder now, your pace quick and steady, your hand stroking his base as you take him deeper. his moans are distraught, raw.

"shit, i'm close," he warns, his voice wrecked. you only hum, the vibrations making him shudder.

"fuck, please, fuck—"

his body locks up, and then he's gone. his dick pulses as he spills onto your tongue. a deep, broken moan rips from his chest, his fingers twisting into the sheets as he shudders through it.

you swallow every drop, sucking him through the aftershocks. he twitches, his breathing uneven, thighs shaking beneath your hands. "fuck," he mutters.

you pull back slowly, dragging your tongue over his tip one last time before sitting up. you tilt your head, watching him recover. "you look good like this."

his lips twitch. "yeah?"

you hum, trailing a finger along his cheek, tilting his chin so he meets your gaze.

you know he's still recovering, but that doesn't mean you're done with him.

+++

sukuna sinks back against the mattress, arms lax at his sides, his chest still rising and falling unevenly. his eyes are heavy-lidded, his lips slightly parted, but his smirk is back.

you tilt your head, observing him.

"tapping out already?" you muse, letting your fingers trace his ribs.

his muscles twitch under your touch, but his grin sharpens. even now, ruined and spent, he has the nerve to look cocky.

"not a fucking chance."

he shifts, watching as you stand, as you move toward the dresser and hook your thumbs under the waistband of your shorts, sliding them down slowly.

by the time you're fully bare, sukuna is staring.

"fuck," he whispers, the word slipping out before he can catch it.

you let him have the moment. let him drink you in, let him feel the anticipation build until it's suffocating him.

then you tilt your head at him. "get on your knees, sukuna."

for a split second, something like hesitation flickers in his expression. then it's gone.

he slides off the bed, moving to where you are and sinking to his knees before you. his breath is warm against your skin, you watch his his hands flex.

"can i touch you?" he asks, his voice rough.

you tilt his chin up slightly. "ask nicely."

his jaw tightens in frustration, his pride clearly hanging by a thread. he licks his lips, blows out a breath, and gives in. "please."

you hum in consideration before threading your fingers through his hair, tugging just enough to make him inhale sharply. "you can touch me."

his hands snap up instantly, holding your thighs, fingers pressing into them like he's been starving for it. his lips part, his breath warm and hot, and he leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the inside of your knee.

it's so different from how he usually is, calculated and cocky. he takes his time, committing it to memory, dragging his mouth higher, higher, each kiss heavier than the last.

you exhale softly as his hands slide up, parting your legs, his movements careful. he's waiting for you to pull him closer.

"don't tease me," you murmur, your voice coming out softer than you intended.

he smirks against your skin, teeth grazing your inner thigh. "go ahead. stop me."

you grab his hair, tilting his head up, forcing him to meet your eyes. "watch your fucking mouth, sukuna."

he falters, just slightly, but there's something fierce in his gaze now. "let me keep going."

you nod, anticipation coiling inside you.

his fingers part you, a quiet sigh escaping as his eyes land on your core. he licks a broad stripe along your slit, and a shudder rolls through you.

his tongue moves slowly at first, savoring, like he's learning you. his groan is low, vibrating through you.

his restraint is obvious in the way his grip on you lingers rather than bruises, in the way his exhale stutters against your skin. he's holding back.

you tug lightly at his hair, testing. he whimpers. "don't hold out on me," you murmur, breathless.

he exhales sharply, his fingers flexing as he finally gives in. he moves with purpose, licking through your slick before his lips close around your clit, sucking, pulling a gasp from your throat.

sukuna groans, guttural, and it hits you. he's starving for this.

heat floods through you. he wants you so bad. his fingers moving up to your hips, his desperation obvious in the way he works you, messy and unhinged.

you tip your head back, breath ragged, hands threading through his hair.

"fuck, you're so good," you murmur. you feel him moan. a deep, broken sound muffled by the way he's devouring you.

he growls against you, his hands flexing, and then—

you're moving.

he sets you onto the dresser with an ease that makes your stomach flip.

your back hits the mirror, the cool glass biting into your skin, a shocking contrast to the heat of his mouth. you blink down at him, dazed.

he grins against your skin.

"what the fuck do you think you're doing?" you snap, but there's no bite to it.

his lips brush your inner thigh, his breath hot against you. "shh," he murmurs, licking higher. "let me have some fun."

you should shove him off. push him back. say something mean.

instead, you spread your legs wider.

he sighs, drunk on the sight of you.

his mouth is back on you quickly, lapping through your slick, his grip bruising now, holding you open.

"fuck," you gasp, writhing under him at the way he works you.

he groans like he's getting off on this, and then you feel his fingers press against your entrance.

"you taste so fucking good," he mutters, voice muffled as a thrill rushes through you

"sukuna—"

he pushes in, slow and deep, and your composure shatters.

his fingers curl immediately, perfectly, pressing into the spot that makes you jerk against his mouth.

he chuckles against you, dark and satisfied. "that's it," he mutters. "take it."

his pace is measured, his fingers stretching you open, pushing deeper, fucking you slow and devastating.

his mouth never stops. his tongue flicks against your clit, matching the rhythm of his fingers, and pleasure coils tight in your stomach.

"fuck, you're squeezing me," he mutters, his voice thick with awe.

you grind against his face, basically riding his fingers now, and he lets you.

"so needy," he teases.

"shut up and keep going," you pant, your whole body trembling.

his pace quickens. his fingers stroke, curl, push, driving you higher. you sit up straighter, your breath catching, your nails digging into his scalp.

his eyes flick up to yours, burning. hungry.

"don't look away," he rasps. it sounds like a plea. "tell me how good it feels."

"sukuna—"

"tell me," he growls, the sound vibrating against your core.

"so fucking good," you moan, pleasure mounting. "it feels so fucking good."

your orgasm hits fast, pleasure splintering through you, your body arching, tightening, breaking apart.

sukuna moans, licking you through it, his fingers fucking you through every second.

"fuck—" your thighs tremble, your hands clutching at his hair, trying to pull away.

it's too much. too much.

but he just tightens his grip, locking you in place, still working, pushing you deeper.

"sukuna," you plead.

he knows. he can feel the way you tremble, can hear your sharp inhale, can feel the way your thighs try to clamp around his head.

but he doesn't let up.

"you can take it."

"fuck." your legs shake. "wait—"

he sucks your clit into his mouth again, harder, his fingers pushing deeper, curling just right.

the heat coils too fast, too intense. you whine, your nails scrape the mirror behind you.

"sukuna, i—"

he groans, dragging his tongue through your slick, addicted.

"c'mon, sweetheart. let go."

your whole body tenses. teetering. and then the tension snaps.

you gush. your hips jerk violently, pleasure ripping through you as you soak his face, his hands, the dresser beneath you.

"oh, fuck—"

sukuna growls, holding you open, watching, taking in every second. he looks drunk, reverent. his fingers keep stroking, slower now, dragging out every aftershock.

"fuck, baby, you're still going."

your head tips back helplessly, your thighs twitching. he licks you through it, relishing every drop.

"look at you," he hums, his voice thick. "full of surprises."

he presses a soft kiss to your thigh, sucking a mark there, claiming you before he leans back, staring at you like he's never seen anything as beautiful.

you watch as he pulls back fully, that hungry look still on his face. his hands tense at his sides like he's fighting the urge to pull you back on him.

"get up," you murmur, your voice light.

he meets your eyes. you see the flicker of hesitation, but he obeys, pushing himself up. his gaze is heavy as you move slowly off the dresser and toward the bed, as you grab your panties from where they were previously discarded.

"come lie down."

you watch him settle with his back against the headboard, his dick hard and leaking against his stomach.

"i want you to be quiet, sukuna."

his eyes flicker with something darker. hungrier.

you ball up your panties. "open your mouth."

his lips part before he can even think about it. you press the soaked fabric between them, stuffing it into his mouth.

"like i said," you murmur, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "don't make a sound."

he's looking at you like you hung the stars, his dick twitching underneath you.

you hold his shoulders to lift yourself up, and when you sink down onto him slowly, his whole body trembles.

he moves immediately, almost desperately, his hands gripping your waist, sliding up your back, pressing you against him. his face buries into your chest, his breath hot against your skin.

you cradle his head between your arms, running your fingers through his hair, allowing it. allowing him.

you roll your hips, testing, feeling the way his jaw clenches like he's physically biting down a sound. his whole body jerks, his forehead moving to press against your shoulder as he breathes through his nose, sharp and uneven.

"you can hold on, can't you?"

he nods, but it's shaky.

you smirk, dragging your nails down his back, feeling his muscles ripple beneath your hands. you start a rhythm, grinding against him slowly.

his nails dig into your back. you can feel it. he's breaking. he's clinging to you, his hold desperate, his body taut with restraint. he needs to hold it together for you.

"mm," you hum, rolling your hips. "you're doing so good for me. such a good boy, sukuna."

his whole body tenses at the praise. his grip tightens. and then you pick up the pace, riding him faster, harder, feeling him tremble beneath you.

his arms lock around you, his body shaking with the effort to keep quiet as you bounce in his lap. he's struggling.

"don't break," you murmur against his temple, your nails dragging along his scalp. "i know you can take it."

his breath stutters, his hands clenching on you. but he's so quiet. until he isn't.

a deep, muffled groan breaks through the fabric in his mouth.

you immediately stop moving. his whole body goes tense.

his fingers dig into your skin, panicked like he already knows what's coming.

you grip his jaw, forcing his head back against the headboard, making him look at you. his eyes snap open. he looks distressed. undone.

you drag your thumb across his bottom lip, watching the way his eyes close as his face follows the movement.

"you just couldn't help yourself, could you?"

he looks up at you, something dangerous flashing across his features.

you roll your hips again, just slightly, to punish him.

his chest rises fast beneath you. you watch his jaw tighten, his throat bobbing. then, with a slow, deliberate tilt of his head, he spits the fabric onto the mattress.

before you can even speak, his tongue flicks out, swiping over your thumb, sucking it into his mouth. he wants to give you a second to process, to feel the shift. but he can't. his patience is gone.

his grip on you tightens fast. in one sharp motion, you're flipped on your stomach, hips lifted into the air.

his hand settles firmly on the back of your neck, holding you there.

"stay down," he murmurs. "so fuckin' pretty like this."

he drags his knuckles down your back, along your thigh, but he doesn't touch you where you need him.

a shiver runs through you, frustration and arousal curling in your stomach, but you don't fight him, don't say anything.

"been teasing me all night," he mutters, his voice low, sharp, cutting through you. "think it's cute to test me?"

you try to lift your head to answer him, but his hand presses firmer against your neck, pushing you back down into the mattress.

you suck in a breath, your pulse thrumming, anticipation curling tight inside you.

his grip locks onto your hips. one pull and he's all the way inside you. your cry is instant at the stretch, the way he fills you all at once. "fuck," he says, his voice dark. "there she is."

he holds you tight, his breath uneven. for a moment, he just stays there, buried inside you, feeling you flex around him.

then he pulls back, almost all the way out, before slamming into you again.

your fingers claw at the sheets, a sharp gasp ripping through your throat.

his chuckle is dark, satisfied. "that's what the fuck i thought."

he sets a brutal pace, deep thrusts knocking the air from your lungs. his hand tightens at the back of your neck, keeping you pressed into the mattress, his breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts.

he's holding you there like he's afraid to let go. his voice is rough against your skin. "fuck, baby—"

you whimper as he slams into you again. your whole body arches at the feeling, heat licking at the base of your spine.

his hand slides down, fingers wrapping around your throat, pulling you up against him. his lips press against the shell of your ear, his breath hot, chest heaving against your back.

"feel so good like this," he murmurs, almost in awe of you. "taking me so well, sweetheart."

you moan and shudder, reaching back and digging your nails into his bicep, your head tilting back against his shoulder.

his other arm tightens around your waist like he can't bear to have any space between you.

"you're so fucking sexy," he exhales, his voice thick with something real. "been thinking about you all fucking weekend."

his next thrust is deep, punishing.

you cry out and his hand moves instantly. not to restrain you, but to cradle your throat and jaw, tilting your chin back so he can kiss you.

it's hungry, desperate. his teeth catch at your lip, his tongue sweeping into our mouth, his groan low as he drinks you in.

"tell me you want this," he murmurs, voice thick.

you clench around him, your breath breaking. your brain doesn't process exactly what he said, just that he wants you to speak. so you do.

"you're so fucking deep inside me, 'kuna," you gasp, your voice raw. "want you to fill me up, please keep fucking me, don't stop—"

he groans loudly, his hand on your throat tightening, his restraint cracking completely.

"fucking hell," he mutters, like he's about to lose himself, like you've just broken him.

"please," you gasp, your voice breaking, "want it, give it to me, make me cum on your dick—"

sukuna snaps.

"my god—"

his pace turns merciless, his hand moving from your waist to press on your lower stomach, his thrusts hitting deeper, harder, chasing the high that's so close you can taste it.

your eyes squeeze shut, a cry slipping from your lips.

"so fucking good, sweetheart," he mutters, his voice feverish. "you're taking me so well, so perfect—"

his hand slides lower, rubbing tight, perfect circles around your clit.

his pace stays punishing, long, sharp thrusts that make your whole body tense.

"fuck," you gasp, your voice breaking.

he feels it the second it happens.

your whole body tenses, your walls clenching down on him so hard it nearly makes him stutter.

"fucking cum all over my dick, baby," he mutters, his voice thick. "god, look at you."

he doesn't stop. your legs tremble violently, pleasure slamming into you in sharp, rolling waves.

he fucks you through it, not slowing, dragging it out until it's unbearable.

"sh-shit, sukuna—"

your thighs snap shut around his hand, trying to push him away, too sensitive.

"fuck, you're still cumming, huh?" he murmurs, his voice ruined.

you can't stop trembling, gasping, the aftershocks still rippling through you.

he groans loudly, burying himself deep.

"fuck—fuck, take it," he groans, his own orgasm barreling into him.

his breath catches, and his body tenses hard as he spills inside you, his sigh rough and satisfying against your ear.

the air between you is thick with heat as you both come down, your breaths ragged and uneven, bodies drenched in sweat. sukuna stays inside you for a long moment, his weight solid and grounding, his forehead pressed against the curve of your shoulder.

neither of you speak at first.

your heartbeat is still erratic, your body still trembling slightly, every muscle loose.

his hands soften, wrapping around your torso as he holds you to him, feeling your short, uneven breaths. he exhales, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. soft. reverent.

"breathe, baby," he murmurs, voice quiet now. "i got you."

you close your eyes for a second, exhaling and letting yourself melt into him. a long moment passes.

then, slowly, he pulls out, the loss making you hiss. you barely have time to process his absence before he lays you down and the bed shifts. your eyes flicker open as he disappears to the bathroom.

you just hum softly, too exhausted to move, stretching your legs out and feeling the faint ache between your thighs.

you feel a little dazed, like your brain hasn't quite caught up yet.

the mattress shifts again, and a cool, damp towel presses between your thighs.

"jesus—" you flinch slightly at the sudden temperature change, but sukuna just huffs a quiet laugh.

"hold still," he mutters, his touch careful. you blink at him, surprised.

"didn't take you for the aftercare type," you tease, your voice softer than usual.

his lips twitch, his brows furrowing slightly, but he doesn't fire back immediately.

"yeah, well," he mutters after a pause, tossing the towel aside and settling beside you. "for you, i am."

you study him for a beat. the tension is gone from his body now, the sharp edges of him softer in the low light. his fingers graze your cheek, his eyes lingering on the redness at your neck.

"you okay?" he asks, quieter.

he watches you for a second, smiling softly when you nod.

you feel warm and content, the weight of exhaustion starting to pull you under. your eyes slip shut just as he shifts closer, his arm draping lazily over your waist.

+++

you wake up to warmth, to soreness, to sukuna's arm heavy around your waist. for a moment, you just lie there, the weight of last night settling over you all at once.

you sit up abruptly when reality kicks in, ignoring the ache in your legs. sukuna grunts in protest, burying his face into the pillow.

"relax," he mutters, his voice thick with sleep. "no one cares."

but once you're both dressed and stepping into the kitchen, you know he's full of shit.

conversations pause.

gojo is the first to look up, grinning like a menace. "oh, look who's finally gracing us with their presence."

you groan.

utahime hums over her coffee, "sleep well?"

"we heard everything," yuki deadpans.

choso barely looks up. "cover each other's mouths or something next time."

your face burns. behind you, sukuna strolls in like he owns the place, reaching for the coffee pot like nothing happened.

"you guys are acting like you're surprised."

"oh, we knew," gojo says. "just didn't think it'd take this long."

your glare could kill. "don't start."

gojo just grins, all teeth. "whatever you say, sweetheart."

and then, to your horror, he winks.

[chosolar]

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈ wait for your love

nanami kento x fem!reader

exhusband!nanami who was your best friend since high school. you met during your 2nd year when he was getting teased for being a loser and you defended him. he stayed close to you after and has been close to you ever since.

exhusband!nanami who was forced to come with you to all the parties that you were too shy to go to. he never minded being your DD, as long as he knew you were safe then he didn't care about not being able to drink.

exhusband!nanami's parents had always nagged him to find someone after he graduated university. he took over his dad's company and as happy as his parents were, they wanted a daughter in law! he hated all the set ups his mom made him go to so he came to you with a proposition — get married to him for a few years to make his parents happy and he'll give you however much money you wanted. you needed the money he was offering so you accepted. the wedding was small and intimate with only your close friends and some family members.

exhusband!nanami worked his ass off ever since you accepted his proposal. even if it was just a marriage of convenience, he wanted to make sure you lived happily with him.

exhusband!nanami was the perfect husband. he was attentive, loving, and always spoiled you with everything you could ever want. the ladies in your neighbourhood loved him, wishing that their husbands were a fragment of what nanami is.

exhusband!nanami spent almost 5 years of marriage in bliss with you until you started pulling away. he never pushed you to talk though because he knew you were going through something. so he waited until you were ready to talk to him.

exhusband!nanami who felt in the dark when he was served with divorce papers. he was busy with paperwork, not bothering to look up at whoever was knocking on his office door. it wasn't until the manila envelope was placed on top of his desk that he looked up to see whoever served him.

exhusband!nanami wanted at least an answer before he signs the papers. you just told him the most vague answers. "I feel like we've grown apart" "we want different things in life" "I just can't do this anymore" he was confused with every reason that you gave.

exhusband!nanami couldn't wrap his head around the separation. he thought everything was going well but once he signed the papers to finalize the divorce, he felt the weight of losing you come all at once.

exhusband!nanami who hated being with anyone else but you. even if it did start out as a loveless marriage, he fell for you hard throughout the years. every "I love you" he's ever said, he's meant it. every kiss, every hug, nanami was surprisingly a good actor but he could never fake the affection he felt for you.

exhusband!nanami despises coming home. it was eerily empty and quiet, the sound of his footsteps were the only thing he could hear. he frequently thinks about moving away to get his mind away from you but he can't. he stays at the same place you've always know where he's been just in case you ever come back.

exhusband!nanami started drinking and smoking to waste his time. he rarely drank during college and he only did during parties with you. now that you're gone, he's turned to his vices. he knows that you hate the smell of cigarettes and you hate people who couldn't handle their alcohol but why does it matter if you're not with him anymore?

exhusband!nanami still remembers every little detail about you. no matter how hard he tried, he could never forget you and everything about you. you're the love of his life even if you don't feel the same about him.

exhusband!nanami felt like everything stopped when he saw you again on the street. you're still as beautiful as ever. your hair's longer and you've changed your style, but other than that you're still his pretty ex wife.

exhusband!nanami breathlessly greeted you back when you came up and said hi to him first. he thought you would've ignored him and just went along your way, but you stayed. your eyes stare up at him as you watch him fumble over his words. his heart skips faster as he sees you grin over his flustered state.

exhusband!nanami watches you leave after catching up. he wishes that it lasted a minute longer because for the first time in what feels like forever, he feels like he can breathe properly again.

exhusband!nanami starts sobering up and taking care of himself. he threw away the bottles of alcohol and cigarettes packs so that he can get away from feeling sorry for himself. if he ever sees you again, he wants to impress you (and make you regret your decision).

exhusband!nanami is shocked when he sees your face on the doorbell camera. the weather was relentless and he sees you shivering in the cold so he opens his door immediately. he hands you a change of warm clothes and turns up the thermometer of the house. 

while he's making hot tea for the both of you, he notices the bathroom door open and out you step, his clothes basically engulfing your body. nanami looks away, trying and failing to get rid of his lewd thoughts.

"sorry those are the only clothes I have that could fit you." nanami apologizes but you shook your head. "no don't be! if anything I should apologize for inconveniencing you."

nonsense, nanami thinks, you could never bother me.

nanami disregards his thoughts, "don't worry about that, I'm just glad to get you out of that snowstorm."

he hands you a cup of tea and you take notice of the mug he has in his hand. you think out loud, "you kept that mug?"

"hmm?" nanami glances up at you then to the cup, "oh yeah. how could I throw it away? you made it for me."

"but that was back in high school."

"and? I've kept everything you've ever given me." nanami cooly responded.

you kept quiet as you take sips of the tea he made for you. the taste is familiar until you remember — he made your favourite tea, just the way you like it. you dart your eyes between the tea and the blond man.

why is he like this? why is he still making your heart flutter after all this time? you wanted to get away but you couldn't, not until the storm calms down. the news reported that it'll continue until early in the morning meaning you'll have to stay inside — with him. knowing nanami, he would never let you out because he still worries for your safety.

sleepiness was creeping up on you as you both sat in the living room. nanami sees your head bobbling through his peripheral and offers you the guest room that you promptly accepted. he leaves you be, letting you explore the home that is exactly the same as when you used to live in it.

nanami laid in his bed, moving constantly to find a comfortable position enough to fall asleep. but he couldn't.

the only thing in his mind was you who was only a few doors down away from him. were you sleeping soundly or do you feel as insomnolent as him? he wants to get up and check on you but he restrains himself. with the wind blowing, all he can hear is the rage of the snowstorm hitting the windows of the house.

nanami directs his attention from the windows to the knocking of the door. "nanami? are you awake?"

he instructs for you to come in, the light from the hallway seeps into the darkness of his bedroom. he sits up and taps the space in front of him on his bed to tell you to come sit there. "why are you still awake?"

"couldn't sleep after I got into bed. you?" you wonder as you go to sit on his bed. he chuckles, "same. do you wanna talk? I remember you used to fall asleep to me talking."

"you remember?"

"how could I forget?"

you lift your legs to place them onto the bed and cross them, wrapping your arms and pulling your knees onto your chest. "why do you still remember everything about me?"

"I was your best friend before I was your husband. even if I wanted to forget, everything about you is engrained in me." his hand moves up to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear. "you were my first and my last, it'll be that way till I die."

"you're so dumb," you mumble into your arms, "I divorced you and you still treat me so well."

nanami grasps your wrist and brings you to his lap, his arms wrapped loosely around you. he kisses your temple softly. "does that bother you?"

"I don't know," you confess. nanami exhales before he changes the topic. "if we're being honest, can you finally tell me now why you wanted a divorce?"

you shook your head. "not really, you might hate me."

"I won't." nanami reassures, "just be honest with me dear."

you sigh.

"the marriage was feeling too real."

nanami's expression twists into confusion.

"it was an agreement between us that if one day one of us wanted to stop, we will," you continue, "and one day, I thought about it. there's going to be a day you come up to me and maybe you'll tell me that you found someone else. I don't want to go through that, I don't want to lose you but we've already gone so far. I figured it was best for me to leave before that day does come.

"you'll never have to worry about that," nanami tightens his arms around you, "it's always been you."

you hugged him back, the scent of his cologne intensifies as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. "can we start over? but for real this time."

"we don't need to start over," nanami places a kiss on the top of your head, "we can just pick up where we left off."

as soon as the storm stopped, husband!nanami takes you to city hall to sign a new marriage certificate.

husband!nanami makes sure to treat you right this time. if you think that the act he was putting up was good, then nanami not having to hide his feelings is better. he's not one to shy away from physical affection in public as he always wants to hold your hand or stay very close to you.

husband!nanami who will always reassure you that he'll never leave. you are the light of his life, the reason he wants up everyday. he'll never take a day with you granted.

husband!nanami finds it adorable when you watch over the neighbour's daughter. he'll wait until her parents pick her up and then he'll bring up the thoughts that's been plaguing his mind for a while now.

"honey, what do you think about starting a family?"

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈

as per usual, not proofread!! ◡̈

[joelmillerisapunk]

MILLLLAAAAAA I have not known peace since reading this

First of all, the tension. The history. The forbidden desire just simmering under the surface, waiting to explode. Every single moment had me gripping my phone like it owed me money.

The fact that they had all this unresolved emotion and then bam—thrown into the most intimate scene imaginable??

This was SO intense, so raw, so emotional—and the way it all came back to them in the end??? Like, she wrote the script for him. She was always going to find her way back to him.

I am never recovering from this. EVER I am crying in the club, hiding in the bathroom, sobbing into my pillow. okay favorite parts timeeeee - and this is my live reaction so excuse every emotional rollercoaster I hit here....

-> WAHHHHHH FJSDKJSDKLJF already killing me goddamnit He closed it and took a moment before rereading the first page, with the name left blank. It could only be you. That was the only explanation for getting a script without the name of the author on it. And there was no way the scene he had just read, so familiar, so intimate, could be coincidental. Or could be written by anyone else. He grabbed his phone and sent a message to his agent, unable to contain his annoyance.that’s fucked up, Will*Will calling* -> OKAYY I SEE HOW IT IS YOU WANT ME TO CRY ALREADY HUH? “It’s… damn, Will, it’s our story, ok? Or a part of it, I don't know. Anyway I can’t play this. Can’t play me.”

-> WHAAAA I CANT DO THIS I CANT BUT I WILL IM SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP He didn’t know how Joel used to hold you firmly against the mattress, hands on your hips, lapping at your cunt to make you come again. Because he always wanted more, always wanted to give you more. He didn’t know that pushing his cock in you was the sweetest, most intense sensation he’d ever felt. Even now, years later, he never felt something like that again. Will didn't know any of that, had no idea how intense it had been. Because the only thing Joel told him was “you don’t bring her up. Ever.” -> she is so relatable omfg I would be doing the same You knew what he looked like, you watched all his movies. In need of his voice, his smile, his gestures, his laugh. In need of him. But seeing him for real- not through a screen but in the same room, not some character but Joel, the man you loved more than anyone else, the man you would still call “the love of your life” in your thoughts -, was breathtaking, almost surreal.  -> SOBBING EXCUSE ME SIR? WTF YOU DOING SHAKING HER OFF LIKE THAT NO SIR NO SIR So you approached him, without overthinking it, but as soon as he saw you he gave you a subtle but firm shake of his head. The message was crystal clear - he didn’t want to talk to you, didn’t even want you around. It stopped your hesitant steps in their tracks, and the shy smile you had the courage to build instantly disappeared, and your gaze fell to the floor. Trying to control your breathing, to fight back the tears you felt welling up.

-> my good goddddd im dying over here i am not okay sos help me He shook his head to think about something else and to resist the urge to take the script out of the drawer. Instead, he took a sleeping pill and went to bed.

->idk Milla, i think you write the most beautiful things and you really wanna make my heart fall out of my ribcage. The writing was pure and vivid and as he was reading your point of view he felt like his ribcage was suddenly too small to contain his heartbeats.

-> ooooof THIS IS BUILDING UP OMG OMG OMG SMDFKSDA “Who do you have in mind for the female lead?” he asked finally. “Well… me,” you answered, without lowering your gaze that time.

-> stab me it might hurt less than this In tears in your car, your boxes in the back, eyes fixed on the rearview mirror where Joel’s silhouette was getting smaller and smaller. Until you could no longer discern his clenched fists, his stone face. Until he was only a small dot, until he wasn't in your life anymore.

THE ENTIRE INTIMATE SCENE HOLY SMOKES IM DIZZYYYY

-> I have no thoughts just thots my brain empty but this is delicious “I can feel you clench on my fingers, you’re gonna be a good girl and come again for me?” he asked, before swirling his tongue over your clit again. “Thought about it so often,”

AND THE END AHHH IM SOBBING

Close-up

8k7 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 | masterlist Summary: Joel receives a script that takes him back to the memories of your love story. He realizes that out of protective instinct after the break up, he has not been honest neither with his own feelings nor with you Warnings: 18+ mdni. ex lovers reunited, angst, mostly Joel pov, Joel can act cold out of defence mechanism, he has trouble accepting his own feelings, pining, slow burn, pet names (sweetheart, baby), semi public sex, just the tip, soft!joel, oral (f), piv, creampie. Pic for mood only, reader has no specific physical descriptions. 

a/n:  this is written for @jolapeno 's dear-uary challenge (prompt here) thank you for this challenge Jo, and it was such a cool prompt 😍😍😍 Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing and for reading this one soooo many times 🥹😘💕 @/saradika-graphics for the dividers 🙏

I sent you a script, tell me what you think tell me more just read it, trust me

The informal messages between Joel and his agent, Will, were usual. They had known each other for a long time, they were friends, and Will had always found him perfect roles. 

So as always, Joel trusted him- even though the first page of the script, delivered to him by a courier, was not completely filled, making him wonder why. 

In the evening he put his cup on the coffee table, and lay down on the sofa, a soft light lamp behind his head. With his back leaning against the cushions, shirt, jeans, bare feet. Always the same ritual, always the same setup, when he was about to read a new script.

He started reading it, taking a sip of coffee from time to time, until his heart leapt in his chest as he got to a particular scene. 

He closed it and took a moment before rereading the first page, with the name left blank. 

It could only be you. 

That was the only explanation for getting a script without the name of the author on it. And there was no way the scene he had just read, so familiar, so intimate, could be coincidental. Or could be written by anyone else. He grabbed his phone and sent a message to his agent, unable to contain his annoyance.

that’s fucked up, Will

*Will calling*

“Yeah,” he grumbled as he picked up, without even trying to hide his feelings, then he got up to pace the room.

“Look, I know what you’re thinking, Joel. But she’s a great writer and actress, you know it. We’ve been looking for a good drama movie for a long time. This one’s perfect.”

“It’s… damn, Will, it’s our story, ok? Or a part of it, I don't know. Anyway I can’t play this. Can’t play me.”

“Joel, listen to me and think about it. No one would know. And it can be therapeutic.”

“Thera… jesus, you gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Joel sighed as he hung up and threw his phone on the couch. 

Why the fuck would Will do something so stupid and inconsiderate, giving him a script from you? 

At the beginning of his career, his agent sent him one project for a movie in which you were expected to play too. Joel confessed that you two had been together, and added “you don’t bring her up. Ever,” to end the conversation. So Will never did. 

Until today.

He sat back down on the sofa, resting his forehead on his fist, resisting the urge to throw the cup of coffee across the room. He was surprised by his own reaction, his nervousness. His anger. Barely able to control his emotions, he felt so weak, like his heart was about to tear in two again, swallowing him whole. He was affected, years later, as if it happened yesterday.

So, sure, a long time ago he asked Will not to talk about you anymore. But they might have been  friends, his agent might have known about you, but he didn’t know the details. Didn’t know how profoundly the break up had hurt Joel, how much you had gotten under his skin, back then.

And in Will's defense, it wasn't like you never saw each other again, at parties or ceremonies, under Will’s gaze who thought that it wasn't that bad, after all. It was years after your separation, now having the job that both of you dreamed about, talked about, sweaty young adults in a messy bed where he had just made you come.

Will wasn't aware that it was actually that bad. 

Because he didn’t know the way Joel looked at you, when you were together. He didn't know how sweet and caring Joel was with you. He didn’t know how much he loved wrapping his arms around you, and having you curl up against him. 

He didn’t know how Joel used to hold you firmly against the mattress, hands on your hips, lapping at your cunt to make you come again. Because he always wanted more, always wanted to give you more.

He didn’t know that pushing his cock in you was the sweetest, most intense sensation he’d ever felt. Even now, years later, he never felt something like that again.

Will didn't know any of that, had no idea how intense it had been. Because the only thing Joel told him was “you don’t bring her up. Ever.”

The first time you saw each other again, was in a place full of actors, agents, writers and directors.

You couldn't believe he was here, a few steps away from you. Of course, you knew you'd cross paths one day, but suddenly he was closer to you than he had been in years and you felt your heart racing. He was even more handsome than he was back then, if it was even possible. You knew what he looked like, you watched all his movies. In need of his voice, his smile, his gestures, his laugh. In need of him. 

But seeing him for real- not through a screen but in the same room, not some character but Joel, the man you loved more than anyone else, the man you would still call “the love of your life” in your thoughts -, was breathtaking, almost surreal. 

So you approached him, without overthinking it, but as soon as he saw you he gave you a subtle but firm shake of his head. The message was crystal clear - he didn’t want to talk to you, didn’t even want you around. 

It stopped your hesitant steps in their tracks, and the shy smile you had the courage to build instantly disappeared, and your gaze fell to the floor. Trying to control your breathing, to fight back the tears you felt welling up. 

If you had looked up right away, you would have seen guilt sweep through his eyes. But when you finally raised your head, seconds later, he was on the other side of the room. The only thing you could see was his back, which he undoubtedly presented to you deliberately, as if his glare hadn’t been enough to make a point.

All evening, you struggled to keep conversations going, to concentrate, to think of anything other than his dark stare, furrowed brows, and the way he shook his head at you without any hesitation. For years, you had been wondering what he had thought of you, after those years. You just got the most brutal answer to that question. 

The second time, a journalist had done some research and discovered that you attended the same university, graduated the same year. He took the opportunity to bring the subject as Joel was walking by. He probably hadn't seen you amongst all those people, because you were sure he would have gone the other way, otherwise. You didn’t have much choice than to kiss, feigning a friendly closeness that had never existed between you. You had been lovers, then strangers. No in-between. 

His scent, so familiar, invaded your nostrils. He always wore the same perfume, the one you had given him for a birthday. It surprised you but you didn't have much time to think about it, as he ended the hug quickly.

Joel's eyes were shifty when you looked at him, a fake smile plastered on his lips. Which could probably seem real for people who didn't know him, but not for you. Not even years later. You answered the journalist's questions as best as you could, until Joel leaned towards to give you a hug that was as neutral as his eyes on you, cutting off the questions. Then he walked away, leaving you facing the journalist who was delighted with the exclusive material and oblivious to the unspoken scene that had happened in front of him.

Joel thought back to those two evenings, after he’d hung up on Will and before he’d put the script away in a drawer. He needed to regain control of his emotions, and to do that he couldn't continue reading your words, at least for now.

He went to the kitchen for a fresh cup of coffee, and despite him trying, his mind wandered to lazy mornings where he would get up to make two coffees and then come back to the bedroom. He’d put them on the nightstand, before cuddling up to your warm body under the sheets, hearing you moan gently. Sometimes you would fall asleep in one of his shirts, and he loved smelling his scent on you, as if you were marked by him, somehow. It always made him feral, possessive. He didn’t know he had that side in him, until you.

You'd always grab his hand to kiss the tip of his fingers, before sliding them along your folds, feeling his cock harden against your ass and your pussy starting to drool. He would make you come with his digits, his lips against your ear, caged in his arms, then he'd slide his cock between your thighs and your soaked folds, just in time for your last spasms to squeeze his tip. Sometimes he would keep fucking you like that, lying behind you, and sometimes he would roll you on your back, taking his place between your thighs. Until he’d come, grunting, growling, his hair disheveled, and you often fall back asleep, his cock softening inside you, the cups of coffee cold on the nightstand.

He shook his head to think about something else and to resist the urge to take the script out of the drawer. Instead, he took a sleeping pill and went to bed.

The next morning he woke up groggy. He put on a t-shirt and sweatpants, poured himself a cup of coffee, and put aside his good resolutions. He didn’t need the script to think about you, anyway. Time never healed his wounds, he never forgot you or the pain he had felt when you’d left. His thoughts were always hurtful, possessive and raw.

Even years after the break up he couldn’t help but think about you when his wrist fucked his shaft. Even sometimes when he was in a relationship. He hated himself for that but couldn’t help it. He missed your cunt, your hands, everything. But he couldn’t accept the idea that he was simply missing you. 

He always thought that your bodies were made for each other, and you always breathed the same words. He knew you meant it, his cock buried in you, his eyes fixed on yours rolling to the back of your head and his ears filled with your moans, barely able to tell his name.  

Until it was over. 

He knew it could happen, you always told him that you'd have to leave for California one day in hope to live your dream, that you couldn’t do it in Texas. But he brushed it off, not wanting to believe it, not wanting to think about it. He hid it in a corner of his mind, until he had no other choice but to face reality. Until it hit him. That day, he realized that he wouldn’t get to wrap his arms around you for the rest of his life.

He lay down on the couch and started to read. And the more he read the script, the more he realized that you wrote only the moments that had really happened. 

The story, background, was slightly different, probably so that no one could ever make a connection to the two of you. But the moments were real, and it made him dizzy.

You wrote that dance in your small apartment, first for the both of you, that you rented after graduation. You worked as a waitress and Joel was a barista, and you two went to as many castings in Austin as you could, dreaming every day about being actors.

That night you put on some music and danced. He kissed your hand and looked at you. He felt warm. He loved you so much that his heart was aching. He made you spin and you laughed, and it was like a spring breeze in the apartment, filling his lungs with fresh air. When you stopped twirling you brushed his hair and then kissed him. 

The writing was pure and vivid and as he was reading your point of view he felt like his ribcage was suddenly too small to contain his heartbeats.

Over the next two days, he took the script out of the drawer regularly. Slowly touching the paper that already bore the marks of repeated handling, him  lying on his couch, taking his time before opening it. 

He read it all, and the sweetness, the sensitivity with which you described your moments moved him profoundly. The person he had loved, cherished, cradled in his arms, wrote that. 

All the intimacy, the love and care you both felt for each other were there. For several years he made everything to forget the good moments, to focus only on the ending to feed his bitterness, but the fact was that there had been so many beautiful moments. And he could read them, feel them again. Couldn’t deny them anymore.

Your words were so familiar, so true to your love story, that his anger slowly gave some place to something else: nostalgia. Finally allowing himself to miss you and what you two had. He was still wondering why you had written the script and sent it to him, but now he was ready to learn the answer. And he wanted to look you in the eye when he’d ask you this question. But he wasn't sure how he’d behave, when you met. Didn't know if bitterness or nostalgia would fill his heart.

So after two days of silence, Joel picked up his phone and sent Will a message.

Ok, set up a meeting

Because of your busy schedules you could meet only in two weeks. The delay was driving him crazy. 

He made a copy of the script, his copy, which he filled with annotations, dates. Underlining moments or words erased from his mind, out of grief, anger or self-protection.

He got hard several times, while reading some scenes. And sometimes anger would come back to creep into his thoughts, whispering to him that you never should have sent it to him, when your separation had been so painful for him. 

And Will was not the only one Joel said “you don’t…. ever.”

To you, it’d been “If you leave… you don't call me. Ever.”

That morning, as he got used to doing several times a day, he grabbed his copy of the script. He had handled it so much that the sheets were already damaged, some pages peppered with annotations. 

As he was reading, he remembered how you had loved to run your fingers over his jeans when you were watching a movie on your little couch. Playing with him, your hand going higher and higher, just to hear his breathing slow down, just to hear him murmur a needy and low “sweetheart, what are you doing?”, making you smile widely. Knowing that he would manhandle you two seconds later to be under him, pulling your panties to the side and pushing his thick length into you. He remembered the feeling of your breasts against his chest, how you whimpered in his neck while he was fucking you hard and deep. 

He was nervous the morning of the meeting. He took a shower, hoping to get rid of the fatigue and headache from the lack of sleep the night before. He put on a shirt and jeans and grabbed his car keys, put on some music when he started to drive, trying to change his mind, but it didn’t work, he was still anxious. He parked near the building. Once inside he found the meeting room and knocked on the door. He heard you say “come in” and took a deep breath before twisting the handle.

You were alone, sitting in a chair, and he quickly pushed aside the thought of how pretty you were. Joel immediately noticed your hands, pressed together nervously, before you stood up to greet him. He stopped when you walked towards him and your smile faded like that time.

“Wait,” he said, his hand raised in front of him, as he was trying to control his emotions. “I just… Why did you send it to me?” he added without any preamble, his tone harsher than he intended. 

“Oh… ok. Straight to the point, huh?” you said, sitting back down, and removing an imaginary crease on your sleeve, eyes lowered to the desk.

“I never…” you started to say, before stopping and taking a breath. “I think I needed to write our story down.” 

Joel’s sigh stopped you. You tried to keep a low and calm tone, not to show your anxiety. You knew that facing him wouldn't be easy. He had given you a glimpse of his coldness after the situation with that journalist.

“Joel, please, listen to me.” 

You looked at him, and yet you had no idea how his name, escaping your lips, tore his heart apart. He never thought he’d hear it again, and the familiar intonation made him shiver.

“I honestly think it would make a great movie,” you said. “And you must think so too, since you’re here.”

“I don’t know why I’m here, honestly. Except that I want to know why.”

“Would you have preferred to discover it once the movie was out, your role played by someone else?”

His gaze on you, dark and possessive, made you freeze.

“No, I really wouldn’t have appreciated our story, my life, played by someone else, Jesus,” he growled.

He put his hands on his hips, a stance you’d seen him do dozens of times before, searching for words, and then he sat in a chair, pinching the place just above his nose with two fingers. Trying to stop the headache that was threatening to come again. It had started off badly, and he knew it was his fault. He was too stubborn, too cold.

“Who do you have in mind for the female lead?” he asked finally.

“Well… me,” you answered, without lowering your gaze that time.

“You?” 

A part of him, that he thought was gone the day you had left, woke up with a groan. He couldn't imagine the movie being made, you playing... well, you, and him being played by another man. It was unthinkable and made his jealousy and possessiveness stir painfully in his chest.

Unlike you, he hadn't watched your movies. He tried though, when he saw your face on a movie poster for the first time. He went to the cinema, but he walked out of the theater the moment that actor leaned toward you to kiss you. He couldn't stand to see someone kiss you, when he couldn't do it anymore.

“I’m the best person to play this character, aren’t I?” you said softly, interrupting his thoughts. “Just like you’re the best one to play the male lead. Look, I know you’ve been rumored for a role like this for years. I know you’re not opposed to it. So why not?”

“Because it’s not about playing a role here,” he sighed. “It’s playing in front of a camera, things we said, did, years ago. Intimate things that belong to us.”

“I changed some things, no one has to know it’s autobiographical,” you started to say, before he quickly cut you off. 

“I know it is. And so do you.” He walked over to the window to stare at the buildings in front of him. “When you leave someone, you don’t do that. It’s unhealthy,” he said, almost softly. Resigned. He turned to you before adding, “Why stir up something that died years ago?”

He didn't expect to face the sadness that clouded your face, and once again guilt seized him. You were sad, upset, and despite the bitterness he’d been feeling for years, he didn’t want to hurt you.

“Joel… I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you anymore,” you answered, standing up and walking towards him. You stopped a few steps away to respect his boundaries, before you'd see his body stiff. “I left because I had to follow my dream, and it wasn’t working in Texas. And you wanted to stay in Austin, to take care of Tommy. We ended it because a long-distance relationship would have been too painful, because I didn’t want us to be unhappy, barely seeing each other, not being able to feel each other often enough. So I left. And I told you all that. You knew it, you knew why.”

You took a breath, after formulating what was oppressing your heart, waiting for him to answer.

“Playing with feelings is dangerous,” he said in a low voice.

“This isn’t a game, Joel. I'm not playing. I’m sure it would make a great movie. And maybe we need to express all that, even years later.”

“Do you remember what I told you that day? The last day?”

“Of course, I do. You told me not to call you. You told me that if we had to meet again… then it would happen. Well, it's happening, Joel.”

He looked at you, confused, and headed towards the door, brushing past you lightly as he passed. 

Just before leaving, without looking at you, he said in a low voice, “my agent will give you my answer in a few days.” 

Once the door closed behind Joel, you remembered the day you left. 

In tears in your car, your boxes in the back, eyes fixed on the rearview mirror where Joel’s silhouette was getting smaller and smaller. Until you could no longer discern his clenched fists, his stone face. Until he was only a small dot, until he wasn't in your life anymore.

At that moment you were wondering if you had made a mistake. You kept wondering for years. To be honest, you still weren’t sure you made the right choice that day. You followed your dream and succeeded, but it cost you the love of your life.

You didn't know what to think about the meeting. It could have been worse, he could have left after two minutes of being there, you knew it. You could have said more, too, but you didn't want Joel to withdraw more into himself. And for sure, you couldn't have told him that you always thought of him when you were in someone’s else’s arms. That you tried not to let jealousy invade you when you thought of his personal life, knowing that you had no right to be. You gave up on that when you had left.

You knew what he thought, how he reacted. Now he needed time to process everything, and you just had to wait for his agent to contact you. You couldn't do more.

Joel got to his car in a blur. He realized where he was only sitting behind the wheel, too many emotions swirling in his head. Years without seeing you and it had gone by at the speed of light. He blamed himself for being cold, blamed himself for not being cold enough, and he was even more lost than before he saw you. He started to drive, the feeling of having mishandled things weighing more and more on his shoulders.

He took another shower when he got home, as if it could wash off his remorse and regrets, the words exchanged playing over and over in his mind.

“Joel… I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you anymore.”

“I had to follow my dream. You wanted to stay in Austin. To take care of Tommy.”

“You knew it, you knew why.”

Did he really start to believe that the events had happened differently, after you left? Had he really done it, to the point of omitting certain things, because he needed someone to blame, to keep moving forward? 

Had he really been that guy? Blaming you when there was no one to blame, just life and the choices that go with it, that we all have to do?

Had he really denied for years that you had left with a broken heart, too? That he had told you to never call him, after those wonderful years together? He felt like he was waking up with a monstrous hangover, and guilt gripped him. Truth is he let you down, and reality was hitting him hard.

Because you were right, you didn’t leave just like that. He didn’t want to acknowledge it for years, kept sweeping it under the rug, but deep down he didn’t forget it. 

And you were right, he hadn’t been able to prioritize your relationship. Couldn’t prioritize himself either. He had always been protective of his brother, but it reached another level when he came back to Texas after being dismissed. Tommy wasn't the same, and Joel knew that he would have constantly wondered if his brother was okay if he had left for California with you. Worried that he could be in jail after a fight, with no one to bail him out. Or that he could be drunk in an alley, alone, spending the night there. Or worse.

“I can’t leave Tommy here alone, with all his drinking and partying,” he told you, expression determined.

“But you need to think about your future, our future too, Joel,” you replied desperately.

Joel had probably hoped that you wouldn’t have left, that you’d have chosen him, until the end. And you probably hoped the same thing, too. 

Right person, wrong time. Fucking sad, but so banal.

So to forget that he was as responsible for the breakup as much as you were, he let his pain turn into anger, and he never let nostalgia set in, or his feelings show up. 

And everything blew up when you sent him that script and he started reading it. It was impossible to continue to deny the obvious, to keep thinking that his feelings were stronger than yours and that’s why you had left. It was impossible to forget that he had told you, “If you leave… you don't call me. Ever.” That he was the one who had cut everything off, once and for all. To protect himself, of course. But still.

So once you were gone, he did what he had to do, he took care of Tommy. Except that he started going to bars with him, at night. Drinking less than him, but still way too much. He took sleeping pills when he was obsessed with your absence, tired of squeezing your pillow way too tight in his fist, his jaw clenched with anger. He moved to a new neighborhood because he couldn't stand living in that apartment anymore where everything reminded him of you. 

When they were children and then teenagers, Joel and Tommy’s father taught them to work with their hands, and it helped them to find jobs on construction sites. And that he finally pulled himself together and helped Tommy the way he had to. It took him months, but he did it, and his parents would be proud of him, of them, if they saw their sons.

He worked hard, kept doing castings when his work allowed it, and eventually it paid off, even if it took time.

He thought about it all, and realized he needed to see you again before deciding on the movie. Needed to behave normally, to let go of his mask. So he asked his agent your number, then texted you:

it’s Joel. Are you still in LA?  I have some questions about the script can we meet again?  I am. When do you wanna meet? tomorrow night, my place? I’ll cook Sure!

He took a deep breath as he sent you his address. He let his emotions take over on purpose, to dispel the bitter taste in his mouth since you saw each other. Now he had to trust them.

The next day he started to cook during the afternoon, the dish that he hoped was still one of your favorite. He knowingly chose to invite you over to his place, to keep his mind occupied at least while he was busy in the kitchen. 

Once the dish was in the oven, he did a running session on his treadmill and showered. 

Anything to keep his mind busy.

You arrived right on time, a bottle of wine in hand.

“You still like the white?” you asked.

He did. Some things never changed.

As you approached the kitchen it smelled so good that you stopped there.

“Still one of your favorite meals?” he asked.

It was. 

You tried not to show that you were moved. Acts of service had always been his way of showing that he cared, and you weren’t expecting that when you showed up.

You sat down on a high stool in the kitchen and he opened the bottle of wine. You had a few sips, silently. Neither of you really knew what to say, at first. Then everything set into place, naturally, instinctively. A little shyly at first, bringing up things from your respective pasts, or present. You asked him how Tommy was doing, and he told you he was fine, that he was engaged to a woman named Maria and that they were going to be parents soon. You were happy for Tommy, sincerely. You had always liked him.

Joel was trying to act normally, to not pay too much attention to the ease with which you were chatting. How easily he opened up to you, telling you about his years in Austin, then his first ones in LA. His first roles, his doubts.

He was glancing at your hands when you weren’t looking at him. At your hair. 

He loved to see your eyes shine when you were talking about something that was important to you.

But above all, he loved to see them sparkle the first time he made you smile, that evening. It hit him, how much he missed it. Making you smile. 

His emotions were so familiar that his heart was beating a little too fast, like a horse freed from its reins.

And suddenly he wondered how he had been able to spend so many years without you by his side, when you had always been his sunshine, liberating his grumpy, reserved nature. 

A part of his brain told him that he was smiling a little too much, but he felt more alive during those moments with you than he hadn’t been in so long. 

Whether in a relationship or not.

And then he felt the atmosphere change, felt that you got nervous, an impression confirmed when you began to scratch your thumb. A habit that dated back years ago, and he'd always take you in his arms, kiss your thumb and tell you that he was there and that everything would be okay. Today, for the first time he couldn’t do all that.

“Are you ok?” he nevertheless allowed himself to ask.

“Yeah, it’s just… listen, I know you wanted to ask me about the script, but ehm... there’s something you need to know.” You took a deep breath before adding “there won’t be any movie if you don’t want to do it. If you’re not comfortable with it. I’m not saying this to put pressure on you, it's just… I just want you to know that your choice is completely free. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do it, for whatever bad reason.”

“I appreciate that you’re telling me this, thank you,” he said, in a tone you couldn’t quite define, half defeated, half tender. “Listen, I wanted to apologize.”

“For what, Joel?” you asked questioningly.

“Yesterday. I didn’t really know how to handle all of it. Honestly, I’ve been overwhelmed by a lot of emotions since I read the script. Including anger.” He didn't expect to tell you that, but the need was too much to bear. He needed to make things right.

“I know. I expected it to be complicated, after our two previous meetings,” you said, without animosity or bitterness. Just being factual.

He raised his eyebrows, as if to apologize, before continuing. “I wanted to apologize for that too. My attitude.”

“That’s your way of handling things, it always has been, I should have known. But I appreciate it too, thanks Joel.”

He nodded, then added “do you think we’ll be able to do it?”

“To do what?”

“Work together. To be coworkers on a movie?”

He saw your eyebrows furrow slightly, as you took the time to think before answering.

“Well… the evening’s going pretty well, right? You haven't shook your head at me yet, to show me the door.”

“Ouch!” he replied exaggeratedly.

“Too soon?” you asked, lips curled into a smile.

“A little,” he laughed.

He enjoyed it, that little moment. You’d had so many of them before. 

“Aren’t you afraid of what might happen?” he wanted to ask. 

“Aren’t you afraid of reliving things, that I’ll fall madly in love with you again and that the scenes we’ll shoot, my acting, will just express the reality of my feelings?” 

But he couldn’t ask you that.

He wanted to ask you if you had sent him the script because you still had feelings for him, but he couldn’t say that either.

“It’ll be a low budget movie. I mean, if we do it,” you said. There’ll be some outdoor scenes but not that many. Not many other actors either. It won’t be a long shoot.”

He nodded and said, “can I give you my answer in a couple of days?”

“Of course,” you smiled. “Thanks for the meal, it was delicious,” you said as you stood up. “You can text me if you have any questions.”

He thanked you and you complimented him on his house as you put your coat back on. His taste hadn’t changed. The rooms were simply decorated. As you walked toward the front door you glanced inside one of the rooms, and saw a table with a wooden sculpture on it.

“Oh my god, Joel? You still do the carving?”

“Oh… well… yeah. I never stopped.”

“Can I?” you asked.

“Sure,” he opened the door and you slipped through the gap, brushing past him lightly as you passed and you had goosebumps at the familiar scent. Still the perfume you had gifted him once. Reassuring. After all these years, instantly, it was there. Enveloping you. 

You approached the table and leaned over a piece he was working on, admiring the figurine that was being carved. A rodeo cowboy on a bucking horse.

“Wow, Joel… you were already very good at this back then, but now it’s incredible. The level of detail is mind-blowing.”

You looked at the shelves, covered with other sculptures. You approached them: bears, deer, wolves, rabbits.

“This is really amazing, you’re so talented. And… Do you still play guitar?”

“Sure,” he answered, nodding at a guitar case. “I usually play in the dining room. My guitars are over there. This one needed a little TLC. I just got it back. It’s… well it’s the one you gave me.”

You looked at him, unable to hide the surprise on your face.

“You kept it?” you asked, trying to hold back your emotions.

“ ‘ course I did.”

You nodded, your throat tight.

“I should go, it’s getting late,” you said. “Tell me about the movie, ok?” You looked at him hesitantly, but when he leaned towards you and wrapped his arms around your torso, your eyes closed at the feeling, so familiar, before you pulled away, told him good night and left.

Driving your car, you replayed the images of the evening in your mind. Of course, you had felt his gaze on you several times during the evening. And sometimes you could see Joel again. Your Joel.

Did he think about you as much as you thought about him? Did he suspect that you had sent him this script in the hope of getting back in touch with him? Did he know how much you missed him, all those years?

You had wondered so many times if he had been thinking about you. You thought about the hug, as comforting as before. You missed him so much.

Two days later, he texted you

“I’m in”

He kept looking at his phone after sending the message. The read indicator appeared quickly, then the writing bubble.

“Great, I'm so glad! I’m sure it’s gonna be amazing!!”

He hoped it would be. Hoped it wasn’t a mistake. 

He had to leave LA for several weeks for a shooting, and the organization of the film was put in place.

You sent each other a few messages in the next few days. Then the messages became more and more regular, while remaining purely friendly.

Several months later, the day before the shooting started, he knocked on your trailer to say hello.

You had rehearsed some scenes with the crew, and everything was ready.

The less emotional scenes were shot in the first few days. He didn’t ask for it, but he was glad. Every night he came back to his trailer, played the guitar, and thought about you. 

Seeing you every day was a very strange thing that he had trouble to define. He was happy to see you every day, to see the person you had become. And sad that you were no longer his. Filming these moments with you was like constantly reopening a wound that had never really healed.

That night, he took out the script, and reread the scene planned the next day.

EXT. THEIR APARTMENT -- EVENING He parks downstairs at their apartment, it’s dark. He knows she’s back from a week at her parents’. He’s eager to get home and see her again, he’s missed her. He quickly climbs the outside stairs and unlocks the door. INT. THEIR APARTMENT -- EVENING He puts his keys on the hall cabinet, takes off his jacket and hangs it on the coat rack. We follow him as he walks in the apartment, until he sees her in the doorway of the dining room. He smiles, we see love in their eyes as look at other. HER Hey baby He goes to her, they kiss, he takes her in his arms. She closes her eyes. HIM I missed you, baby. He brushes her cheek with his thumb. HER I missed you too. She takes his hand and leads him to their bedroom.

He stopped reading there, before the next scene, that was the most intimate, the one that made him anxious just to think about.

“I missed you, baby,” he said the line. He brushed your cheek with his thumb, like he had done so many times before. His eyes were fixed in yours. He wondered if he was imagining what he was reading in them.

“I missed you too.”

You took his hand and you headed out of the frame.

“Cut, it was perfect, guys! Go get ready for the next scene.”

He picked up his water bottle and took a sip. He felt dizzy.

You were both wearing underwear and bathrobes. Waiting to shoot the scene.

“Ok guys, you’re ready? Great, let’s go.”

The scene was a close-up of both of your faces during a sex scene, at night. You lay down on the bed first, after taking off your robe. He took off his too and lay down between your thighs.

“Is this ok?” he asked.

“Yeah, it’s ok,” you smiled.

“Action!”

You started to kiss, tongues quickly brushing against each other. His hands cupped your cheeks as he rolled his hips towards you slowly, careful that your crotches wouldn’t touch. 

It was overwhelming to feel you against him, your breasts against his chest, with only your bra between the two of you. It was a whirling moment, to kiss you in such an intimate scene, playing something that you had lived for real before. He groaned and slid his hand to the back of your neck to hold you as close as possible against him.

He felt you shift slightly, turning your hips to face his. He wanted to ask you what you were doing but he couldn’t. He was half hard from the moment he laid against you but now his cock was hard as steel. You pushed your pelvis forward and the tip of his cock nestled at your entrance, pointing against his boxers.

He could feel your wet panties through the fabrics.

“Don’t stop, baby,” you recited your line, and he growled.

He couldn’t believe you would act like that while shooting a scene, couldn't believe you were using him.

He pulled away to look at you and you murmured an unscripted “please.” Eyebrows furrowed, he nodded slightly. His fat head found its way, and his tip pushed your panties in.

It was hot, filthy, forbidden. So unprofessional, but he couldn’t stop. He recognized your moans, and the small team around you probably thought it was perfectly faked, when it was music in his ears. The music he thought he would never hear again. 

Your hands tightened on his biceps as you came. So quickly. He felt your walls squeezing his tip and he almost forgot to move, forgot the script, forgot you were shooting a scene. He pulled out, afraid he would come too, and faked his orgasm, neck tense and veins bulging, your hands caressing his hair at the back of his neck.

You said the next line “I love you, baby. I missed you so much.”

“I love you too,” was his.

“Cut!! That was amazing, great job!!”

There was a pounding on your trailer door as you got out of the shower. You quickly threw on a bathrobe and went to open it.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he growled.

“Keep your voice low Joel, damn… Come in.”

You closed the door behind him, searching for the right words, pressing your hands together. 

“I, huh…” you stammered.

“No! No, talk to me. Tell me. You can’t… you can’t do that and stay silent.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” he chuckled.

“Having you so close to me, against me… I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry. It was overwhelming.”

“Everyone could have seen, what were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking, that’s the point, Joel! And they didn’t see, anyway.”

“Jesus christ you can't do that. You can’t just use me like that.”

“I know, Joel. I know, I’m sorry. It’s just…”

“What?”

You sighed, and that time he didn't try to rush you. You felt him soften, giving you time to find your words.

“I miss you, Joel.”

“No, don't…  Please, don’t say that.”

“I missed you the second I left and it never stopped.”

Hearing the tone of your voice and reading your eyes, this time he had no doubt that you really meant it. And he felt all the tensions in his body relax, as if he were freed from everything that had been oppressing him for years. You approached him slowly, eyes raised to his, and you slid your hand into his, and his large palm gently closed over it. You caressed his cheek with the other, and for a moment he shut his eyes, pressing his face against your hand.

“I miss you,” you said again and he rested his forehead against yours. He gently rubbed his nose against yours, before kissing your lips softly. He heard your breathing hitch for a moment, then you moaned slightly as you pulled away, just to look at him, Joel, not the actor, for the first time in years. He pulled you closer to him and brushed his tongue over your lips, as if asking for permission to push inside. Greedily, you slid yours to his, licking his tongue and lips, until he crashed his mouth against yours. His hands rested on your waist while yours moved up his back, pressing your bodies together. You whined when you felt his hard cock pressed to you.

You pulled away from him again, just to look at his face, and he wanted to pinch himself, just to be sure you were not some dream that would leave him disillusioned and alone when he woke up.

You took his hand and led him to your room.

“Undress me,” you said.

He pulled on the knot of your bathrobe slowly, making the two sides of the garment part, revealing the curve of your breasts that he caressed with his fingertips.

Your chest rose quickly as your eyes were plunged into each other, until he lowered them to your pussy. His heart was beating so fast that for a moment he was afraid it would explode.

He raised his gaze to yours, silently asking if you were okay.

“Yes,” you said. As if you knew he would want to hear it, that a nod wouldn't be enough.

He slipped his hands under the fabric of the robe and slid it down your shoulders. It fell to the floor, leaving you naked. So vulnerable, and yet you were the strongest woman he ever knew, following your dream by leaving for a city where you didn't know anyone. And made your dream come true.

But now you were here, in front of him. So pretty, so sure of yourself, of your desires.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said in a low voice.

He pulled you back, guiding you with his hands on your hips as he kissed you, until the back of your knees touched the bed.

“Lie down, sweetheart,” he said. The nickname was so familiar in his mouth, so normal. You did as he asked, moving back until your head rested on the pillow as he watched you, still standing at the end of the bed. Then he took off his t-shirt, unbuttoned his jeans and got rid of them and his boxers.

“Are you ok?” he asked.

“Yes,” you replied. “Haven't felt better in a long time, actually.”

“Me too,” he added, laying on the bed, his hand caressing your inner thighs that he kissed, then he spread them with his hands.

He ran his thumb over your folds, covering it in your wetness until he reached your clit and gently rolled it under his finger. You moaned, spreading your thighs wider. 

He leaned down, his shoulders taking possession of the space between your thighs, the scent of your arousal filling his nostrils. He licked a long stripe from your drooling hole to your clit, then placed his hands on the inside of your thighs, pressing your knees against the sheets, and you willingly let him do it, your hands sliding into his hair. He pushed his tongue into your cunt, growling against your folds. He never thought he would taste you again and an overwhelming feeling was running through his whole body. You were leaking into his mouth, down his throat and he pressed you against him, greedy for what you were giving him as your hips rolled towards him. His nose brushed perfectly against your clit, like it always did before. You clung to his hair as your moans were getting louder and louder.

"I'm so close, Joel," you murmured, hands lost in his curls. "Please, baby, please." 

“Take what you need, use me, sweetheart.”

“Oh my god, Joel… I’m gonna… I’m coming, fuck!”

He didn't let go of you, leaving his tongue buried in your pussy and his nose against your clit, gripping  your waist with his hands, as if they were in their natural place, your flesh welcoming them.

“Joel…” you whimpered.

“Another one, please, baby. Let me give you another one, ok?”

“I’m not sure if I can… I don’t know if I can,” you panted.

“Lemme try, ok?”

“Ok,” you whispered.

His tongue left your pussy, licking your puffy folds before teasing your swollen clit. His middle finger slid along your folds before he pushed it in you gently, immediately adding a second digit. His fingers pumped into you, making your wetness flow down to the sheets. He kept you pressed against the mattress, as he had done so many times, drunk on your taste and smell. His cock ached but he resisted the urge to grind himself against the bed, afraid of not being able to hold back and come on them.

“I can feel you clench on my fingers, you’re gonna be a good girl and come again for me?” he asked, before swirling his tongue over your clit again. “Thought about it so often,” he added, still pumping your drooling cunt with his thick fingers, then licking and sucking your clit.

“Yes, fuck yes,” you whined, just before you came on his diggits, clit pulsing against his tongue.

He crawled over to you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and smashed his lips against yours, your wimpers now disappearing between them.

“I wanna suck your cock, Joel,” you breathed against his lips, but he shook his head. 

“Sweetheart… I'd love it too but I’m gonna come the second you’ll take me in your mouth,” he said. “And I really need to feel you around my cock. All the way this time, not just the tip. You’re ok with that, baby?”

“Of course, need to feel you too.”

“Damn you’re so pretty,” he said, and kissed you.

He grabbed his cock in his hand, the tip leaking, swollen and red, and nestled it at your entrance, pausing there for a moment before thrusting in. 

“Oh fuck…” you whined, making him stop.

“No, no no, don’t stop, I’m ok. Need all of you, please,” you whimpered.

Like years ago, he would give you everything you needed from him. So he didn't stop until he bottomed out. 

“Shit,” he groaned, feeling his balls tightening, ready to explode. He was struggling so hard not to come, but his breath was hitching with every thrust since he felt your pussy around him. 

You kissed, hips rolling towards each other softly and slowly. He loved to feel you around him again, and again he thought that your bodies were made for each other. He was sure of it more than ever. He slid his arms under your shoulders and you licked his neck, right at his pulsating point, then kissed the thin and delicate skin crossed by its veins.

“I won’t last, baby, I’m sorry…” he panted.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, taking him deeper.

“It doesn’t matter, fill me, Joel, please, just like before,” you begged, making him grawl, and he placed his thumb against your clit. It was enough to give you soon another climax and you pulsed around his shaft, digging your fingers into his skin as you came once again. He thrusted in a few times before burying himself, balls deep in your cunt, and shot his cum into your core, filling it to the last drop, his forehead against yours.

“Fuck, sweetheart….”

“I know,” you breathed. “Just like before.” 

For a few minutes both of you were panting loudly, waiting to catch your breath.

Then you caressed his cheek and he kissed you until he pulled away and lay down facing you.

“Come here, baby,” he said, welcoming you against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, the way he always liked it so much. You stayed like that for a few minutes without talking. He just wanted to feel you against him, to hear you breathe slowly, to feel your skin against his. 

“I should have left with you,” he said suddenly.

You straightened up to look at him then said softly, “hey, no, don’t… Don’t hurt yourself by thinking that. You did what you had to do, and so did I. And we met again, like you said back then,” you added, and kissed him, then curled up in his arms again.

“We did,” he agreed, brushing your hair delicately. “So, that script?” he asked. “Was it to… like… get me back?”

“Of course it was,” you smiled against his torso, and he kissed the top of your head. 

“I’m happy you sent it to me, sweetheart.”

Thank you for reading 🙏

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[dustpages]

Satang wears Prada

Note: please this is all just a fantasy for reading, if you don't like my previous work, please simply don't read.

Black obsidian flickering, archetypal, platonic forms rendered and brute cartography.

Grace and elegance rendered in stark colourlessness, the form unified, undivided, eternal, the flashing now, always.

My silhouette, my image, my person has been all over screens, monitors, magazine covers, and newspaper clippings for over ten years, but I still got excited when invited to present at such an event like the Prada Fashion Show.

The crowd at the Haneda Airport was surrounding me and the few members of my staff; I felt like I was being swallowed by a sea of humanity. The noise of the crowd, the clicking sound of the cameras, the flashes that lit my eyes, the sound of people screaming my name, was like a huge wave that hit me directly at the centre of my chest.

“Sana! Sana! Sana!”

The screams of the fans were loud and deafening.

The security managed to create a safe corridor, in between two seas of people, for me and my staff to pass through. Kaori, my personal assistant, was holding hands with the most precious treasure in my life, my son. I had him seven years ago using the assisted insemination procedure; I had kept his existence a secret from my fans and the public's eyes. Only the people who I trusted knew about him, and they were very few. 

Once in a secluded area of the VIP lounge, he ran to sit on my lap, wrapping his little arms around my neck, hugging me tight. I could feel his heart beating like a wild bird trapped inside his chest. I felt like I would burst out crying.

“Mum, do I have to sit on your lap on the plane?" he asked, looking nervous.

"Yes." I answered, "The seat is too big for you, and you are still small."

I ruffled his messy hair, making his blue eyes roll into the back of his head in a cute manner that made my heart melt like the sun touching the snow. I stood up, and he stayed in my arms like a monkey, hugging my neck.

A flight attendant led us toward the business class where a private suite had been reserved for us.

Once inside, I set him down in my lap and put on my seatbelt; he was so tiny compared to me, and the seat looked too big for him, like a giant bed. I had to hold him close to me so he wouldn't disappear somewhere in the huge space of the seat. The flight attendant smiled kindly at us as she offered us a drink.

My son nestled his head in the crook of my neck and yawned. “Mum."

“Yes." I answered.

"Are you sure that the flight will be okay?" he asked me.

I opened my eyes and looked at him; his blue eyes looked worried. He was still a little kid, and it was cute to see him concerned for no reason.

"Yes, I am.” I replied. "Do you want to rest your head on my boobies?" 

I was well aware that he had a thing for them; he often hugged me or laid his head on them. I was not embarrassed by it at all. I found it funny and sweet; my son loved me a lot. 

He nodded, and I lowered the top of my dress to expose my cleavage. He buried his face in the valley in between my tits.

"So soft.” he purred adorably. "Your boobies are so big.” he added.

I giggled and caressed his head. He was the sweetest person I knew. "Baby, do your thing and try to sleep." I locked the sliding door of our cabin and fully exposed my breasts for him; my nipples were hardening under his hot breath. His small hands cupped both of them, kneading them and playing with my nipples.

My pussy was getting wet, and I was feeling myself getting turned on by my son's actions. I closed my eyes to avoid looking at him and moaned softly. I didn't want him to know that he was turning me on like that. But I liked this kind of playtime. 

His mouth opened, and he sucked at my nipples; the suction felt good against my skin. He latched on to them, sucking one nipple after the other.

"That feels good." I moaned.

My son looked up at me and smiled. “Excellent." he stated. "I always do my best to please you." 

He went back to sucking at my tits until he fell asleep. His mouth was still attached to them, his hands cupping them.

My make-up artist peeked inside, and I waved at her. She smiled and shook her head before closing the door again. I chuckled at her reaction; she loved him a lot.

I let my son sleep on my tits while I rested my eyes. I wasn't falling asleep; I was just resting a little bit. I was still tired, but I didn't mind. I loved spending time with my baby.

After a few hours, my son woke up and looked up at me. "Hi, Mum.” he said, smiling.

"Hey." I greeted him back.

He kissed my lips before pulling away from my tits. I felt cold without his warm mouth on my skin.

"I need the loo.” he announced before standing up.

I nodded at him and watched him heading to the toilet of our private cabin. I took a blanket to cover my legs given my revealing outfit, not really the best choice for the winter season.

My son came back after his business and took his place back on my lap. He yawned before resting his head against my breasts again.

"Are they still soft, baby?" I asked.

He nodded, "They are, Mum."

"Can you play with them again? It feels good." I asked, hoping to get a repeat of his previous actions.

“Yes." he answered before cupping my tits and kneading them slowly. My nipples were hardening as soon as he touched me. I was getting wetter and wetter as he played with my tits. His fingers were rolling my nipples and making me squirm in my seat.

I orgasmed silently, biting my lower lip to stop any sound from escaping me. My pussy was soaked; I felt the dampness between my thighs. My son looked up at me, and his eyes beamed with joy.

I pulled him up to kiss his lips. "Thank you, baby.” I said before releasing him.

He sat beside me and leaned his head against my shoulder. "You're welcome, Mum.” he whispered before falling asleep again. I put my arm around him and caressed his hair, letting him rest. I was glad that I was able to keep his existence a secret; I was grateful that my career had allowed me to give him everything he wanted. I just hoped that I could continue to provide for him and keep his privacy intact.

In a few hours we landed in Milan; the security of the airport led us towards a secondary entrance to avoid any kind of problems with the press. My car was already waiting for us; my son took his place beside me at the back of the car; he hugged my waist and laid his head against my chest.

The drive to the hotel was quick and uneventful; the city was not as busy as it usually was. We arrived at the hotel where I had my room reserved and took a private lift to access it.

My son had his crib in my room; he liked sleeping with me, but he also liked to have his own space. I got undressed, keeping only my underwear on, a thong and a lace bra. My tits were bouncing free from any restraint; I loved how they jiggled when I walked.

My son watched me taking off my dress and undressing myself; he was sitting on the sofa in our suite watching me with hungry eyes. He had a huge crush on me, and it felt flattering; I felt so desirable. He got up from his position and went to hug me.

"Mum, can I touch your boobies?" he asked.

I smiled; his innocent tone was sending shivers down my spine. I nodded and wrapped my arms around his head to pull him closer to me.

He cupped both of my tits and squeezed them with a sigh. "So soft, Mum.” he said.

I felt his hard-on pressing against my thigh; I moved my leg up and down his crotch slowly.

"You're so hard." I affirmed, caressing his hard cock through his pants. His blue eyes were looking up at me with a pure form of desire.

I hoisted him in my arms and kissed him passionately. I wanted to fuck him so bad that I was surprised by my desire. But I was aware that he was not ready for this. He was too young for sex.

"Baby." I moaned against his lips. "I want you so badly."

He moaned as well, his lips parted, and I slipped my tongue in his mouth to deepen our kiss. His cock was rubbing against my belly, making me wetter and wetter. I licked at his lips before breaking apart from him.

"Mom, I trust you with whatever you want." He promised me, his blue eyes shining with love and trust.

I smiled and kissed him again before settling him in the bed. My bathrobe fell open, exposing my naked body to him. I sat down on the edge of the bed and motioned for him to come closer.

He straddled my legs and cupped my tits, playing with them and sucking at them. I moaned at the feeling; his mouth was making my pussy dripping wet. 

"Suck harder, baby." I instructed him.

He obeyed and sucked harder, making my back arch against his mouth. "That feels so good." I gasped. "Use your teeth." 

He did as I said and nibbled at them. His teeth were pinching me in a way that made me want to scream out in pleasure. I moaned loudly; my pussy was throbbing with pleasure.

"Oh shit." I moaned when he bit at one of my nipples. "Fuck." 

I moved to lie on the mattress with my baby on my tits; he started sucking again, pinching and nibbling at my skin. My pussy was aching so much that I wanted him to touch me there. 

"Baby, please." I begged him.

He moved down from my tits to my pussy; he spread my legs apart and slipped his hand in between them. His fingers parted my lips and rubbed at my clit. I gasped at the pleasure it caused me; he knew exactly how to touch me. 

He kept rubbing at me until I came. He didn't stop even when my orgasm had hit me; he continued until I was coming again. I cried out his name while my body was trembling with pleasure.

I felt like I was dying, but in a good way. I closed my thighs around his head, keeping him buried into my pussy. I moaned and bucked against his mouth, trying to get more pleasure from his touch.

Once I came down from my high, I pulled him into my arms. We made out like crazy; my nails were digging into his back, and his hands were cupping my tits. He broke our kiss to look at me.

“Mum." he whispered against my lips. "There's something going on in my underwear." His voice seemed worried. 

I rolled us over to have him on his back and pulled his pants down to look at his underwear. The fabric was stretched and wet; a bulge was visible under the fabric.

I smiled; I knew what it meant. "Are you sure?" I asked him, "I don't want to force you."

He nodded, "Yes, Mum."

I pulled down his underwear and gasped when I saw his cock. It was bigger than I was expecting, and it looked like it was aching.

"It hurts.” he whispered.

"Let me help you." I offered. I licked my hand and started stroking him; he gasped at my touch. His cock was smooth and soft under my fingers. I tightened my grip on it and started moving up and down.

His hands gripped the sheets, and he threw his head back. "Ohh," he gasped. 

I smirked, knowing the effect I had on him. "Baby, you are going to feel even better now."

I enveloped my lips around the head of his cock; he moaned loudly when I started sucking at him. His cock was salty and sweet at the same time.

I sucked and licked at him, making sure he was feeling as much pleasure as I was giving to him. He thrust into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat. I gagged a little but kept sucking. 

"Oh, Mum.” he gasped again. "I can feel something going on inside of me." 

I moaned around his cock and sucked harder. I knew that he was about to come soon. His hands were clutching at my hair, and I was getting turned on more and more.

"Shit." He cursed when his cock started jerking in my mouth.

I bobbed my head with more velocity; I wanted all of him. When I felt him coming into my mouth, I swallowed every single drop of his cum.

I licked his cock clean and looked up at him; he was looking at me with love. "I love you.” he whispered.

I crawled on top of him, pressing my tits against his chest. "I love you too, baby."

We kissed again before I went to take a pair of black stockings I had into my suitcase. I knew he had a kind for them; I approached the bed and rolled them on my legs slowly, deliberately. His gaze was following my every move; I knew I was turning him on. Once I had them on, I stood up in front of him and hoisted one of my legs on his chest.

My pussy was exposed to him, and I could see that he was turned on by it. He licked his lips, and I could tell that he wanted a taste of me. 

"Do you want a taste, baby?" I asked him.

He nodded eagerly, and I lowered my pussy to his mouth. He sucked at me with hunger, making me moan loudly. I had never seen him like this before, his face buried in my pussy and licking at me like he wanted to taste every part of me. My hands were clutching the wall behind me, and my body was shaking with pleasure. 

"Baby." I cried out. "I think I am going to come again."

I bucked against his face, and he sucked harder at my clit; I cried out his name when my orgasm hit me again.

"I'm going to ride you, daddy." I exclaimed, driven by my lust and my love for him.

He nodded, and I climbed on top of his lap and impaled myself on his cock, moaning loudly at the feeling. His cock was filling me in the best way possible. I started bouncing on his cock, making him gasp under me.

He pulled my tits together and sucked at them while I was riding him. His hands were digging in my ass cheeks, and he was helping me move. I leaned in to kiss him passionately.

I was moaning on his lips, my pussy was clenching around his cock, making him feel the pleasure too. We moved together in perfect sync. My tits were rubbing against his chest, and our bodies were slick with sweat.

"Daddy, you are going to make me come again." I gasped out. 

He pounded me in the earnest, getting me to squirt all over his cock. I screamed out his name; my body was trembling and shaking. He kept pounding me through my orgasm, getting me to come again and again.

I leaned in to kiss him again; our tongues were entangled and fighting for dominance. My son was fucking me in a way that I had never experienced before; he knew exactly what I needed.

"Daddy, I love you." I moaned into his mouth.

He moaned back. "I love you, Mum."

"I'm going to make daddy cum now." I giggled. 

I leaned back and bounced on his cock faster and harder, driving his dick to bottom out inside at every stroke. He moaned loudly and clutched at my ass cheeks. 

"Daddy needs some kinky words," he taunted me. "I need something dirty."

I grinned; my tits were bouncing in his face, and I knew he loved this kind of view. "Daddy, you are so dirty." I giggled.

He groaned at my words; his cock was getting harder inside me. "Yeah, daddy loves fucking his slutty Mum," he growled. "She is so tight and wet for him."

I giggled; his words were driving me crazy. "You like her pussy, daddy?" I taunted him. 

"Yes, I do," he grunted. "It is so good, and it drives me crazy every time."

"Oh yeah." I moaned. "And I love riding daddy's cock." 

His cock twitched inside me, making me gasp. "So good, daddy."

I moved faster and harder on his cock until he cried out. His cock started jerking inside of me, and I felt his cum filling me. I kept riding him, milking every single drop from his cock.

I collapsed on his chest, panting heavily. I rolled off him and looked at him; he was smiling and looking happy. 

"How was it?" I asked him.

His smile grew even wider. "It was amazing," he promised. "I never felt so good."

I smiled and pressed my lips to his forehead, kissing him. "I loved it as well."

We cuddled all night long, entangled in each other's arms. My son was sleeping peacefully against me, and I couldn't be happier than that. I loved him so much, and I would give anything for him to be happy. I was glad that he had enjoyed our first sexual experience. I knew it was just the beginning of many nights we would spend like this. I would make sure to teach him everything he needed to know about sex and pleasure. I would guide him every step of the way. He was mine, and he would stay mine forever. I loved him more than myself, and I would protect him until my last breath. 

My thoughts were interrupted by someone knocking at my bedroom door, "Sana, wake up." Kaori's voice echoed through the room.

I stood up and covered myself with a bathrobe. I opened the door and waved at her to come in. She looked surprised when she saw my baby lying on the bed naked. I grinned; she knew that I would have taken his virginity soon and that we would be lovers from now on. She was open-minded and respected our choices; she was the best friend anyone would dream to have.

"It's 9 am," she announced. "Your first interview is at 10 am."

"Okay." I nodded. "Where are the clothes?"

She handed me a black dress and a pair of heels; I thanked her and went into the bathroom to change. I dressed myself quickly and styled my hair in a simple ponytail. I applied some light makeup to not look too tired; I was feeling exhausted, but I was not going to show it.

I went back to the bedroom and smiled at my son, who was looking sleepy and cute. "Hey baby." I greeted him.

"Hey, Mum.” he mumbled, yawning. "I am so sore."

I giggled knowing that he must be sore after the sex we had last night. "Do you want some cream?"

He nodded, and I handed him a jar of cream to apply on his sore ass. He thanked me, and I kissed his lips.

"Have a good day, baby." I said before leaving the room with Kaori.

My son was still sleeping when we came back at the hotel after a long day of interviews and photoshoots. I smiled and climbed on the bed beside him. He opened his eyes and smiled at me.

"Hello," he greeted me. "I missed you."

I giggled and pressed a kiss to his lips. "Me too," I admitted. "Did you sleep well?"

He nodded and yawned. "Yes, I did." He stretched and sat up.

I followed his lead and sat up as well, making him sit on my lap. He wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in the crook of my neck.

"Did anyone try to hit on you?" he asked me, sucking on my neck. 

His mouth was driving me crazy, and I knew that I needed to stop him; otherwise, I would end up fucking him again. But I didn't want him to be sore.

"No." I lied, "It's late. We should go to sleep."

He didn't buy it. "It's impossible that no one had tried anything with how sexy you are.” he affirmed.

"You are right," I admitted. "The famous Korean actor Cha Eunwoo had asked me for a dinner."

"Did you accept?" His voice was cold and deadly.

I nodded, "Yeah, I did. It is a good opportunity for me to be seen with someone more famous than me; my career will be boosted by that."

He sighed and pulled away from me. "My girlfriend is already planning to cheat on me."

I laughed, "No, baby. I am not going to cheat on you."

He pouted and crossed his arms on his chest. He looked cute and childish; I pulled him towards me, smashing my lips to his. He opened his mouth, and our tongues met again. My hands roamed his back and cupped his butt cheeks. I pulled away from him and grinned.

"How about we forget about this and have fun?" I suggested.

"Sounds good to me.” he agreed; his voice sounded sexy.

I stripped out of my dress, and he helped me to get rid of my bra and panties, leaving me completely naked. He ogled at my body and licked his lips.

I smirked and settled him on the bed before crawling on top of him. His mouth found mine, and we made out again. My tits were rubbing his chest, and my hands were roaming all over his back. 

His cock was hard against my thigh, and I knew what was going to happen. "Sure you can handle me, baby?" I taunted. "I know you are sore."

He grinned and flipped us over to be on top of me. "Trust me, Mum.” he promised.

I nodded and opened my legs to welcome him between them. He kissed me again before trailing kisses down my neck and to my tits. His mouth latched on to them, sucking at one nipple while playing with the other. 

I moaned; his mouth felt so good on my skin. His fingers found their way to my pussy, rubbing at my clit, making me gasp out in pleasure.

"Yeah, baby." I moaned. "Keep going."

He smirked and kept rubbing at my pussy until I came, crying out his name. I was still trembling when he settled himself between my legs. He pressed his lips to mine, and I parted them for him; our tongues fought for dominance, and I felt him pushing inside of me.

I moaned again; he was big and stretching me. "Fuck." I gasped.

He moaned on my lips and started thrusting inside of me. His cock was moving inside of me with a slow rhythm; he wasn't fucking me as hard as he was the previous night, but it still felt good.

"Baby." I gasped, "You feel so good."

He smiled against my lips before deepening our kiss again. His tongue was dancing with mine, and his cock was moving in sync with it. I could feel another orgasm building inside of me, and I knew I wasn't going to be the last one. 

"Daddy, you are going to make me cum again." I moaned on his lips.

He grunted and pounded me harder; I came again and again, squirting on his cock. He kept going until he came inside of me, his hot cum filling me and making me feel satisfied. 

I pulled him down to lay on my tits, and we cuddled there, panting and sweaty. His lips found mine again, and we kissed again.

"I love yo.” he murmured on my lips.

I grinned and kissed him back. "I love you as well, baby." 

We made out until we fell asleep in each other's arms again. The next day was going to be crazy given all the interviews and photoshoots I had to do.

I left him alone in the bed; my schedule for this last day was packed, and to top everything, I had the dinner planned with the Korean actor.

I had never been interested in dating anyone famous, but he seemed to be nice, and it was a good opportunity for my career. I wasn't sure if I could trust him at all; I was still deciding.

I reached the restaurant where our dinner was supposed to happen and spotted him already there. He smiled and waved at me. He was handsome; I had seen his movies, and he was a really good actor.

I walked towards him and smiled at him. "Hi." I greeted. 

"Sana-san, I am glad you came.” he bowed to me.

I nodded in response and let him guide me to the table. We ordered something to drink and started talking about our jobs, movies we had made, and everything. He was charming and nice; I couldn't help but feel drawn to him.

After a while, he started touching my knee under the table and rubbing it with his hand. His eyes were locked on mine, and I could feel the heat radiating from his body.

"Sana-san," he whispered. "You are so beautiful and sexy."

I giggled, feeling flattered. "Thank you." I said, blushing.

He grinned. "Would you like to join me for the night?" he suggested. "I promise that we will have fun."

I was tempted by his offer; my pussy was getting wet, and I needed someone to fill me. My baby was at the hotel sleeping alone. I could go back to the hotel and fuck him again, but I didn't know if he was ready for another round.

"I am not sure; is your dick big enough to fill me?" I teased him.

His eyes widened, and he licked his lips. "You are dirty.” he exclaimed. "I would love to fuck a dirty bitch like you." 

He stood up and paid for the dinner. He took my hand in his and led me out of the restaurant. The paparazzi were waiting for us outside and started snapping photos of us. I smiled and waved at them, holding his arm.

We entered a cab, and I turned to Eunwoo. "Flirting with you has been fun, but I already have a lover." I informed him. 

His demeanour didn't change; he just smirked. "I don't care about it.” he stated. "I want to fuck you tonight, and I am going to do it."

I laughed; he was confident, and I liked it. "I like your attitude, but there is a condition."

"What?" he asked. "I want you so badly, Sana." 

"My lover has to be there and be okay with thant." I said. "I have a special relationship with him, and I don't want to hurt him." 

"Who is he?" he asked.

I smiled and told him the whole truth. "He is my son and lover." 

I could tell that he was surprised by my confession. But I didn't care about his reaction; I loved my son and our special bond. 

He nodded. "Okay, I am fine with it."

I nodded as well and leaned in to kiss him. Our tongues met again, and I felt myself getting wetter. His hands were roaming my back and clutching at my butt cheeks.

We reached the hotel and went straight to my suite; my son was lying on the sofa watching a movie. He stood up when he saw me entering the room and frowned when he saw Eunwoo with me. 

“Mum." he called me. "Who the hell is he?"

"This is Eunwoo." I introduced him. "He asked me to spend the night with him."

My son's face fell; he looked upset. "Kick him out; I don't share anything of mine." 

I giggled at his possessiveness. "My baby doesn't want to share me." I taunted. "Eunwoo, I reckon you'll get blue balls tonight." I laughed.

He looked at me a bit shocked. "Are you refusing me for a kid?"

I nodded. "Yes. He is my kid, and he is mine in every way possible." 

My son's eyes got softer; Eunwoo scoffed and turned on his heels and left. I was alone with my son, and his expression changed from upset to hungry. 

"You are a nasty girl to have brought that man here," my son commented.

I removed my coat and threw it on the armchair; my brown dress was revealing my curves. "I do know." I bite my lower lip. "I'm going to make it up to you."

I descended from my heels, and my son peeled his clothes in a hurry, letting them pool on the ground. My pussy was dripping wet when I saw him naked. 

"Spin for me, daddy." I taunted him."Show me your ass."

He smirked and did as I asked; his back muscles were visible, and his ass was round and juicy. I licked my lips, wanting to bite it.

I came to him and turned him to face me; my hands went to cup his ass cheeks. "Daddy is so hot." I whispered. "I want to eat his ass." 

"Then do it, Mum.” he asserted, blushing.

I led him on the bed, and I settled him to sit on the edge of the bed while I proceeded stripping out of my clothes; my baby was looking at me with lust in his eyes. My tits were swaying in front of him, and my pussy was wet and dripping.

He got the hang of what I wanted to do; he went in the middle of the bed and lay with his bare ass up in the air, his legs spread apart for me.

I kneeled on the bed and came to him; my hands parted his ass cheeks, and I licked at his hole. It tasted like heaven under my tongue, so sweet and salty. I ate him like a pussy; his moans and grunts were making me feel good. I wanted to taste every inch of him.

I buried my finger in his ass and fucked him with it; he cried out my name. "Ohh, Mu.” he moaned.

I smiled knowing that he liked it; I added another finger and started sucking at his arsehole. My baby's cock was dripping precum; he looked ready to explode at any time. His moans were driving me crazy; seeing him trembling under my ministrations was hot.

"Fuck, Mum.” he cursed. "You're gonna make me cum."

I got more aroused by the second, and I withdrew my fingers and dove my tongue inside his hole. He cried out, "Mum!" His orgasm hit him, and I felt him shudder under me.

I kept eating him until I felt satisfied that he was done cumming. I looked at him; his cock was soft, and he was panting hard. "Mum, you are the best.” he panted.

I chuckled and licked my fingers. "I can tell you enjoyed it." 

He nodded and turned on his back; I leaned on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around my back. "I was so upset when you came with him.” he admitted.

I kissed his lips with passion; he didn't even try to fight my tongue, letting me taste him. I broke away from him and looked in his eyes mischievously.

"You gotta make me cum a lot tonight, daddy." I dared him. "I had refused a hot man for you." 

He smirked. "And what if I don't?"

"I'll call him to fuck me." I giggled. "You won't share me, but I am free to do anything I want."

My words got him fired up, and he flipped me on my back; his mouth found my pussy and sucked at it like he wanted to taste my soul. His hands were clutching at my thighs and keeping them apart.

His tongue was licking at my clit, making me moan out loudly. He was sucking at me in a way that was driving me mad.

My orgasm built up inside of me and hit me hard; I screamed his name while trembling in pleasure. 

He came to lie on my tits; I wrapped my arms around his back and held him close to me. I could hear his heart beating against mine and feel his hot breath on my skin.

"That was good," I praised. "Now we are even." 

He laughed and buried his face deeper into my cleavage. "You are something else.” he murmured.

I kissed him, and we made out lazily for a few minutes. His cock got hard again against my belly; I needed him inside of me as soon as possible.

“Daddy." I whined. "Fuck me."

He chuckled and looked at me; I could tell by his gaze that he was already thinking of new things to do with me.

He flipped us over again, making me straddle his thighs; his cock was hard and big, waiting for me to take it. His hands went to my hips and guided me to impale myself on him. I moaned when he entered me, stretching me.

He felt so good inside of me, filling me in the best way. I started moving up and down, his hands clutching at my tits and squeezing them. My pussy was clenching around his cock, making him feel the pleasure as well. He thrust up inside of me, matching my rhythm.

My baby was fucking me like a professional, and I loved it. "Yeah, daddy." I encouraged. "That's good."

I rode him as fast as I could manage; his dick was buried deep inside of me. I knew I was going to come again; his cock felt phenomenal. 

"Daddy, I'm gonna cum." I moaned.

His thrust became faster and more erratic. I released my juice, drenching his cock; my body was trembling with pleasure. My orgasm was making him lose his control; he came inside of me a few seconds later.

I collapsed on top of him, panting hard and sweaty. Our chests were rising and falling in sync. "Did you have enough?" he breathed out. "I am getting tired."

I giggled; my baby was so cute and adorable. “No." I admitted.

"Really?" he asked, looking surprised.

"I'm sure to say that Eunwoo could have taken a lot more time fucking me than you did." I teased him. "I need someone who can fuck me until I am done."

He huffed and stood up; he looked pissed off. “Fine." he stated, "I will go get him for you."

I stopped him by holding his hand and pulled him back against my chest. "The only one I want is you." I assured him. "You should be more relaxed; I was only fooling you around."

He looked unconvinced; his arms were still crossed on his chest. "You need to prove it.” he told me stubbornly. 

I chuckled knowing that he was still mad at me. I stood up as well and started making out with him again." Daddy." I purred. "Let me show you how good I am." 

My hands roamed his chest and pinched at his nipples; he gasped and moaned. His cock was getting hard again under my touch. I turned us around and pushed him down on the mattress before crawling down his body and swallowing his cock.

I sucked and licked at him until he was hard as steel. "Baby, you taste terrific." I complimented him.

I settled myself on his thighs and lowered myself on his cock, moaning loudly when he filled me. "So good."

My hips were grinding on top of his cock while my tits were bouncing in his face. His hands cupped them and squeezed them hard, making me gasp in pleasure. He was so talented at making me feel pleasure. 

"Yeah, baby." I moaned again. "That feels so good."

I moved faster and harder on him, feeling myself getting wetter and wetter. " Daddy." I moaned louder. "I, you, are going to make me squirt." 

His fingers rubbed my clit and made me lose my control, squirting all over his cock. He fucked me through my orgasm, getting me to cum again and again. I collapsed on his chest, panting hard.

I looked at him; he was looking up at me and smiling. "You okay?" he asked. "You look exhausted."

I nodded; my body was aching all over but in a good way. I sealed my lips on his again, and he wrapped his arms tighter around me.

In our last 24 hours in Milan, I showed him around wearing a disguise. He acted like the sweetest baby boy on the planet, holding my hand and making sure I was okay. 

He was so attentive and caring that I could not believe how much he got head over heels for me. He didn't throw a tantrum when some of my fans noticed me, and I took some photos with them. 

"Sana, we got an invitation for the Ralph Lauren event in Melbourne during the Australian Open." Kaori informed me while we were packing our suitcases to go back home.

I scoffed; even though I was the ambassador for Ralph Lauren Japan, I didn't see why I had to attend a sport event I couldn't care less about.

"I don't want to go; it's been a bunch of hectic days here, and the idea of travelling to the other side of the planet is stressing me out." I argued.

My assistant sighed and crossed her arms on her chest. "Sana, you got to understand that this is a good opportunity to promote yourself and Ralph Lauren; the brand is paying you a splurge of money," she explained.

I was about to refuse again when my son spoke up. "I want us to go, Mum."

I frowned; I hadn't thought about what he wanted. "But why?"

"Because I have never been to Australia," he affirmed. "And I want to see you working."

I rolled my eyes; my baby wanted to see me working like a model. It made no sense.

"But baby." I started, "It is a long trip, and it's not healthy for you."

He crossed his arms on his chest as well. "I don't see why not, Mum." 

I sighed; he was being stubborn, and I was not ready to argue with him. "Fine, we are going." 

I pouted; I knew he was going to win every argument we would have. I loved him too much and couldn't deny him anything. 

The trip to Australia was managed smoothly by my manager; we arrived two days early so we all could adjust to the local time zone and the excessive heat in Melbourne. 

"I despise this kind of weather," my son complained while swimming in our infinity pool. 

I looked at him from under my sunhat. "Well, you wanted to come." I reminded him.

He was a spoilt brat. When he wanted, he got out of the pool to come and lay down on the sunbed beside me. His body glistened under the sun, making him look like a bronze god. 

"That's true, but it is not because of that I have to like it," he pouted. "It is so hot, I feel like melting."

I chuckled and stood up from my chair. I went to him and leaned down to press a kiss on his lips. "Maybe you just need something to cool you off." I suggested.

He nodded, eager to get any kind of attention from me; he didn't realise that it would end with him being naked and being used like a slut by me. I giggled inwardly at the thought of how he was going to react when I was finally done with him.

My hands were roaming his body, and I started kissing and licking at his neck. He moaned, "Mum." 

"Hush, baby." I shushed him. "Let me make you feel better."

I trailed kisses down his chest; my lips found his nipples and licked at them, making him moan louder. My hands went to his swim shorts and pulled them down his thighs, exposing his already hard cock.

I grinned; my baby's cock was so hard for me. I took a bottle of lotion from under my sunhat and poured a generous amount on my tits. They were already glistening in the sun, but the lotion made them shine even more.

"Mum, what are you doing?" he asked me, confused. 

I smirked and hoisted myself to straddle him on the sunbed. "What does it look like?" I replied, "You are going to make me feel good."

His hands were clutching at the sunbed sheets, and his eyes were fixed on my tits rubbing his cock. I moaned; his cock was so hard against me. I bounced on top of it, making sure he was coated with my tits' lotion.

He moaned as well; his breath was getting heavier. "Fuck, Mum." 

"You want it?" I asked him, "You want your mum's tits?" 

He nodded; he was already panting like a dog in heat. "Please." 

I lowered my tits to rub his cock with them; he moaned even louder when I squeezed them together to enclose his dick. I moved up and down on his cock, making sure he got a good feeling. His precum was leaking all over my tits. I licked at my lips, wanting to taste him.

"Is it good for you?" I asked.

He nodded again; his eyes were closed, and he looked like he was about to cum. "Very good." 

"Want more?" I teased.

He nodded eagerly. "Yeah."

I grinned and bent forward to lick at his cockhead. He gasped when I took it in my mouth. "Oh fuck."

I sucked and licked at his cock until it was covered with my spit. I stood up and grabbed a towel to wipe my tits clean.

"Are you going to fuck me?" he asked hopefully.

I smirked; I didn't want him to cum that easily. "Not yet, baby." 

I started teasing him again with my tits, rubbing them on his cock and balls. He moaned and tried to push me down to ride him, but I kept denying him. He was about to beg for me when I decided that it was enough. 

I hoisted one of my legs on the sunbed and sat on him. My pussy was already wet and ready for him; I took his cock in my hand and rubbed it against my entrance.

"Baby, you gonna take your Mum?" I taunted.

He nodded and thrust up inside of me, making me cry out. His cock was stretching me and filling me so good, I started bouncing on top of him while clutching at his shoulders.

His hands cupped my tits and squeezed them, pinching at my nipples, making me scream in pleasure. "Baby, that feels so good." I cried out. 

He grinned; he loved when I was in pleasure. His hands went to clutch my hips, helping me bounce on his cock. Our bodies were covered with sweat, and we were moaning loudly.

"Mum, I think I am about to cum," he gasped. "You feel so good."

I smirked, knowing that he was close. "Come for me, baby; fill me with your cum." I encouraged him. 

His thrust got more erratic; he was moaning louder and louder. I could see his abs tensing under his skin. 

I leaned in to kiss him; he came while we were making out. His cum filled my pussy; I kept riding him, lost in pleasure. 

I came, stimulated by his jizz overflowing in her cunt, but I didn't mean to stop. I went on grinding until he was hard again; I got off him and lay on my side.

"Baby, shove your dick into my cunt.” I ordered.

He was sweating profusely; he was panting, trying to breathe. "Mum, I'm still too sensitive.” he whined.

I reached back and guided his cock inside of me, making him thrust and groan loudly. "Good boy." I praised.

He stilled; his hot breath on my skin was turning me on even more. "If you are not going to move, I'll take charge of it." I dared him.

I twerked  my ass on his cock and he cried out. "Mum." 

I giggled at him being so sensitive; I knew I had won again. His hands clutch at my waist, and he thrusts up inside me with a slow rhythm. 

I moaned and leaned back against him; I wanted him to kiss me. His lips found my neck and sucked at it, making me feel all kinds of pleasure.

"Harder, daddy." I ordered.

He complied and pounded me harder, making me gasp with pleasure. I came again, and he kept fucking me through it. My pussy was getting sore, but I was in heaven.

"Ohh daddy." I moaned. "I am going to cum again."

He groaned at my words; his cock was pulsing inside of me, and I could feel that he was going to cum soon as well.

"Come for me, daddy." I taunted him. "Fill your Mum with your cum."

He grunted. "You are going to be the death of me." 

I giggled and rocked my ass on his cock harder. "Stop speaking; I want your cum." 

I kept grinding on his dick. "Please, Mum, I'm too sensitive."

I kept going; he was almost at the edge. "Take it." I ordered. "Take my pussy like a good boy."

“Mum." he cried out again.

"Obey. You are privileged to be the one fucking me; there are plenty of other cocks that would have been happy to replace you." 

That sentence was enough to trigger him. He sank his teeth into my shoulder and thrust his dick deep inside of me. "You are a nasty bitch," he groaned. "You're gonna make me cum."

His cock started jerking inside of me, his cum filled me, and I felt my pussy overflowing. I kept grinding until I came again.

We collapsed on the sunbed, both panting and sweaty. He buried his face in my neck and moaned again.

"Mum, you are killing me," he grumbled. "You have to stop it."

I laughed and turned to face him. His face was flushed, and he was covered in sweat. "Why would I stop?"

He sighed, "Because I don't have enough stamina for you." 

I grinned at him. "Well, I am going to make you stronger as time goes by." 

We spent the rest of the day cooling down under the cool breeze of the AC unit. 

 We got out of bed at 6 pm to get ready for the event.

"You look stunning, Mum," he complimented me. "Like a goddess."

I was wearing a white sleeveless shirt tied under my boobs; my toned midriff was exposed, and the bottom part of the outfit was a long and wide skirt with blue and white stripes. It was showing my legs every time I moved. 

"You are not bad yourself." I replied. "Handsome as ever."

He was wearing a white T-shirt with his jeans and black boots; he looked so hot and cute in that outfit. His hair was messy and tousled like he just got out of bed.

I giggled knowing that he had taken a shower and had spent 20 minutes combing his hair. He looked like a cute little boy, and I couldn't help but tease him.

"Baby, you look cute like this." I stated. "Like a young boy playing dress-up."

He glared at me, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. We made it to the tennis court and took our places in the VIP area. I got immediately spotted by the media, and they started taking pictures of me.

The match was starting, and my son was getting bored. He had never watched a tennis match in his life, and he didn't understand the rules. 

He leaned against me and whispered in my ear, "Mum, this is too monotonous."

I laughed and leaned closer to him. "Your Mum predicted you could get bored." 

He pecked my cheek. "What do you have in store for me?"

I smirked; the naughty side of me took over. "Do you trust me?"

He nodded, and I signalled him to kneel in front of me; my skirt was covering his head, but I could still see his eyes looking at me under it. I leaned back and opened my legs wider, letting him crawl in between them.

I lifted my skirt and exposed my thighs; he licked his lips when he saw me wearing a tiny thong. His hands reached my legs and caressed them slowly. I moaned inwardly; my baby was so good at making me feel pleasure.

I let him bury his face between my thighs; my pussy was wet and ready for him. He sucked and licked at it through my thong; I was trying to keep my moans silent, but it was difficult. The crowd was too loud, and the music playing for the break time was masking my noises.

His fingers pumped inside of me, and he was sucking at my clit; I felt myself getting close to cumming. He knew my body so well and was making me cum easily.

"Baby." I breathed out. "I am going to cum."

He kept going until I came crying out his name; I was trembling, and my pussy was overflowing with my juice. He cleaned my pussy with his tongue, making sure to not waste a drop of my juice.

I came down from my high and pulled him out of my skirt; he was grinning at me and licking his lips. 

Thankfully, the crowd was focused on the first set coming to an end to give attention to our little affair.

I sat him on my lap, his head resting on the crook of my neck. I stroked his hair and he kissed my neck.

"You smell good," he murmured. "Like vanilla."

I chuckled, "That's the new perfume I am advertising." I informed him.

The rest of the match was uneventful for us. He stayed snuggled in my arms until the end. When we were about to leave, the paparazzi surrounded us. 

"How was your first experience at the Australian Open?" they asked me.

I smiled and waved at them. "It was wonderful and exciting." I lied. 

Kaori and security came to rescue us. We were escorted out of the venue and went directly to the hotel to pack.

We got on the plane and took off to Tokyo; he slept in my arms during the flight. I was happy and satisfied with how our first trip abroad had gone. I found out that I could trust him not to say anything to anyone about our relationship.

I was well aware that he was still young and that I would have to prepare him to deal with all the hate he would get when I decided to reveal our relationship to the world.

But for now, the world could wait. 

[bunny-jpeg]

sinful sentences (two)

daniel ricciardo - "you are such a tease!"

tags: smut/pwp, wearing your boyfriend's clothes, teasing, cowgirl position, slow & sensual, dirty talk, breast worship/play

the sinful sentences catalogue

"beautiful, you know you'd look perfect in a potato sack. you'd be the most beautiful person at the entire event." daniel tried to reason with you but was met with a shift dress being tossed at him. you were headed to a pop-up in new york for a streetwear brand, and while you had nice outfits. you were overthinking.

you stood in front of the mirror and sighed, "i just want it to be right.' you knew you should've brought a few additional items on the trip. you put your hands on your hips, "people are more critical of a new girlfriend. more to poke and prod at it. so it has to be perfect." you pulled at the collar of the blouse you were trying on. still not right.

"you're over thinking the event. you could go in a ratty pair of jeans and one of my t-shirts and you'd look cool." he said, further trying to pull you away from the intense headspace you were in.

when daniel asked that, he didn't expect his body to react to the sight of you. wearing his clothes and even dabbing some of his cologne on for extra cool factor as you put it. but as daniel gazed at you he was very much not feeling cool himself.

the assumption was that less clothes meant a higher level of attractiveness, but seeing you in one of his t-shirts as you got ready for the event lit something in his mind.

the shirt was already quite baggy on him as was the style, so it was still baggy on you. tucked loosely in some light washed jeans and a jacket over top. the sneakers were chunky. when daniel saw what you threw together, he could only joke, "if my mom saw us right now, she'd say we look 'modern'." and laughed in order to cover up that he really liked the shirt on you. it wasn't anything too special, it was a thick off-white t-shirt with green details on it. and he found himself closer to you the entire of the event. he even got a small squeeze of your behind when he leaned in to kiss you.

you got him after dinner in the evening and daniel helped you out of your jacket and put your purse down on the couch in the hotel room. he lingered like a shadow. eventually he found his hands on your hips.

"someone's feeling frisky." you said as you swayed your hips a little bit for extra effect. you laughed a little, "what's gotten into you? i know it's not the fresh new york air." and let out a small yelp when he pulled you up against him and kissed your neck.

you melted a little into his touch and he held you close. it was comforting being in his touch. his hands went to your breasts and cupped them through the heavy shirt. you moaned a little.

he chuckled lightly, "look at you, you feel amazing." his voice tickled your brain just right, it made you feel a little looser and comfortable. you leaned against him further and he continued to near grope your breasts while he ducked his head to your neck and left hot kisses along the skin. you still felt a little cold from the afternoon chill. but don't worry about that, daniel will keep you nice and warm throughout the night. he said softly, 'i liked that you wore my shirt, was it comfortable on you?"

"felt like wearing them when i go to bed." you giggled as you tilted your head to the side to give him more access to your neck. you held onto his forearms as he felt your breasts, "felt weird pairing them with jeans."

"usually you're in my sweatpants too." he chuckled lightly as he pressed further into you, "why don't we get into bed. but can you do me a favour, angel?"

"anything."

"keep the shirt on."

you both got undressed, shoes kicked to the front door, socks followed close behind. your jeans were over the couch, and his belt on the coffee table. your panties on the edge of the bed along with his shirt and undershirt. your bra was taken off from under your shirt and thrown close to the large window of the room. you managed to get your earrings out and along with your favourite bracelet on the nightstand so at the very least they wouldn't get lost in the sheets. everything was removed except for his t-shirt on your body. he got on top of you, his hands held onto yours, kept them pinned to the mattress.

he took in your figure, or at least the shirt the covered most of your curves. he already had your form memorized. how could he not? not when it was to hypnotic and lovely. he rubbed his scratchy cheek up against your breasts, you could feel his bread through the t-shirt and it made you giggle. you held onto his hands tighter and squirmed under him.

he grazed his teeth over your hard nipples through the shirt, and got some of the fabric wet with his spit. he kept you pinned under him as he toyed with your body. your beautiful, beautiful body. you rubbed your legs together and he chuckled before he let go of your hands to cup your breasts and tease them further.

you moaned and combed your fingers through his dark hair, "you are such a tease!" you could feel the pleasure course through your body, you held onto him while he slowly pushed up the shirt. but not fully taking it off. you moaned a little louder and held onto him a little tighter. his curls felt nice in your hands as he worshiped your body.

"aw, babe." he cooed, "i only tease you because i love you." his hands went up your t-shirt and felt your hot skin, "i want to savour you. is that a bad thing?" he looked at you with those big brown eyes and smiled at you.

you giggled and shifted a little on the bed. daniel crowded your space further and you smiled at him. he felt inviting, warm in a way that made you feel at ease. even when he teased you. his hands grabbed your ass. he shifted your hips a little and you helped him keep them lifted while he grabbed one of the hotel pillows and put it under your ass for leverage.

you eyed his erect cock, you licked your lips. as much as daniel wanted you, you wanted him. it was a partnership of equals after all. he noticed you looking and then looked back at your face and winked. you blushed a little and looked away for a moment, "i-"

"it's alright to stare, babe. it's quite impressive if i say so myself." the slight curve to it, the thickness to it that made your toes curl. you weren't going to deny it.

you looked at him and he pressed you a little further. he admired you before he guided his cock into you. you tensed up for a moment when the tip slipped in and relaxed when he pushed further into you. you reached for him and held onto his tanned shoulders as he slotted himself into you. you both were at eye level with one another as he sank into you perfectly.

"shit, babe. you feel beautiful." he leaned further into you and held you by the hips to use as leverage to fuck you with. he loved the feeling. he could feel the words on the tip of his tongue, the flowery language to tell you exactly how you felt to him. but no words could full articulate how daniel felt when his cock was buried inside of you.

you held onto him and he thrusted up inside of you. your nails scratched lines across his shoulders as he moved. as he involved his body up against yours, his hot kisses across your lips as he pressed further into you. loving, devoted. you looked amazing, even when you were mostly clothed by his t-shirt.

your pussy fit around him perfectly, you took him beautifully as he stroked himself inside of you. he kept your hips up to take him at the perfect angle. he didn't want to hurt you, bruise you inside and out. that wouldn't be fun for either of you in the end. he groaned at the feeling as the two of you continued to fuck.

part of daniel wanted the shirt off of you, he wanted to watch the bounce of your breasts as he thrusted into you. he wanted to feel the soft flesh of your breasts against his face. he wanted to touch every inch of skin he could get his hands on. your soft skin made him yearn for you even more, even when he was already fucking you. the heat of want continued in his body as he moved.

his pace wasn't particularly fast. he was taking his time with you. get his fill of you. he said softly, "feeling alright, babe?"

you nodded, "i feel good, don't worry, danny." you kissed him once more. your nose almost hit against his because you just wanted your lips on him as fast as possible. you moaned against the kiss and held on tightly.

there was something about daniel that just pulled you in. the warmth to him that made you warm as a result. you felt the fire in your core as he moved against you. the two of you shared another messy kiss and the bed squeaked under you when daniel picked up his face.

"that's it, that's it." he near purred as his movements remained faster. he loved the feeling, the needy between your legs as he moved against you. he groaned once more and held onto you a little tighter, "heavens should be singing when i'm fucking you, babe. feels like nothing else, and i know you feel good too. you love when i fuck you like this. with everything in me." his voice was tinged with the most affection he could humanly give.

you moaned and continued to move against him. you held onto him tightly as he worked your body. you felt like two pieces of each other, to feel close meant to feel whole. and being with daniel was unlike anything else. he was unlike any one else you had ever been with. you felt close in such a proper way. and you loved it just as you loved him.

you swallowed back the loudness of your moans so people didn't start snooping. you held onto him a little tighter as the feelings of grew, there was a certain level of euphoria that coursed through you as you neared your climax.

"i can't get enough of you." he said, "but you knew that, didn't you? you know exactly how you drive me crazy. that i think you're god's gift to my world. fuck, honey." he said with a tone heavy with total and utter affection for you.

you moaned a little louder and felt the pleasure pick up in your body. you thighs tensed around your lover's waist as he continued to fuck you. the pleasure of continued to reach its peak. you felt swarmed with your lover's affection. his tenderness and love for you. everything he could give.

he groaned, "beautiful, beautiful." he said softly as he kept up his movements. he could feel the clench of your pussy. how wet you were, near soaked for him. your cunt felt proper around him, it only made him continue to move. to keep working your body till you both reached your pleasure.

you held onto him and let him work your body. you let him use your sweet figure to a liking you'd both enjoy. the kisses were hungry, near feverish as you held onto one another. when they broke, daniel rested his forehead against yours. eyes closed as he moved against you. enjoying your body and letting the pleasure flow through his body.

"my babe, my angel." he said softly, his breathing heavy as the two of you made love on the hotel bed, "you look good in anything, but you look next to perfect in my clothes. maybe you should wear them more often, pieces of me everywhere you go." his voice was gentle, loving as he worked you.

"you tease." you moaned, "your sweet words, yet.. fuck." you knew you were getting closer. that orgasm was going to wash over you soon. you clung to your lover, you held onto him tightly as the pace became rather quick as he intended to sexually finish you both off. the hammer in your heart only quickened, you tensed around him as you kissed once more.

daniel was beyond words, the excitement in your body only grew with each of his thrusts. the kisses continued and soon you were held tight onto him, you felt the fire in your belly and he only clung to you further.

with a few more thrusts, he finished inside of you with a heavy groan. he felt the pleasure wrap in his body and he moved against you through his climax so you could reach yours. his pace staggered.

you panted heavily against him, the pleasure was overwhelming and you enjoyed every second. it was hot beyond words, in a certain way that made your pulse quicken. he was better than anyone else you ever had, he was the perfect lover for you.

you said to him, "i love you."

and he replied softly, "and i love you." before he pulled you in for a heated kiss once more. he moved up against you and soon you finished around him. you tried to meet his pace through your orgasm. the pleasure felt amazing, it licked through your blood and made you head swim.

when you both came down from your sexual highs. he slowed to a spot and pulled out. he laid out on the bed next to you and got you out of the t-shirt so he could lie next to you. skin to skin. it felt comforting as you laid in each other's embrace. legs tangled together, your leg over his.

"i guess you like me in your clothes, huh?" you asked.

he nodded as he cupped the side your face with one hand, "love it. i bet you could look as sexy as even in some of other things i own." he said gently, the love in his tone. he wanted to see you in everything he owned so he could strip you of them and see your beautiful naked body underneath. <3

[illbegottenfaith]

for the rose and the pearl (a I'm Not That Girl inspired fic)

attending Mattheo's wedding with Theo makes you realise you're not the girl he could truly build a happy life with (theo nott x reader)

Part 1 | Part 2

a/n - so my plan to write shorter drabbles backfired spectacularly 😭😭 I'm suchhh a slut for multiple meanings in a theme - I'm not that girl who's just going to cheer you on from the sidelines. I'm not that girl who's pretty/glamorous to be on your arm. IM NOT THAT GIRL WHO STILL KNOWS HOW TO LOVE YOU 😭😭😭😭😭 anyways enjoyyy :)))

tropes/warnings - angst, tw alcohol

word count - 2.6k

taglist - @lorenzozurzolocanruinmylife @anikatcmh @starkeyszn @natbat666 @ebriton @shrekstoesblog @hzdhrtss @justaproudperson @thaliashifts

True to his word, Theo let you pay for your dress. And yet, a week before the wedding, you receive a charming set of pearls, courtesy of one Mr. Theodore Nott.

"Thin ice," you say to him as a means of greeting at the wedding. He bends down to kiss your cheek in hello, and when he steps back you see him grinning. His gaze flicks down to the pearls around your neck.

"Whatever for?"

After the quick hello, he's almost immediately pulled away again into his best man duties. You drift around, saying hi to a few familiar faces. In fact, you only find him again while exploring the venue.

You spy the groomsmen gathered near the entrance of the reception hall, a loose circle of dark suits and polished shoes, some fixing their cornflower boutonnieres, others already nursing drinks.

Theo stands in the middle of them, one hand in his pocket, looking effortlessly put together with his crisp sky-blue pocket square - that is, except for the small white rose in his hand, still separate from his lapel. He rolls it between his fingers absently, half-listening to whatever joke Enzo is telling.

You know you shouldn’t care. You know you shouldn’t notice the way it’s just slightly crumpled from where he’s been holding it for too long, fidgeting with it restlessly, like he hasn’t thought to ask for help, like he’s waiting for someone else to step in.

“Here,” you say anyway, stepping forward before you can think better of it.

Theo barely reacts as you pluck the flower out of his slack grip. He only shifts slightly, angling himself toward you, allowing you to close the space between you as you pin it into place.

You focus on the task at hand, on the fine, expensive fabric beneath your fingers, on making sure the flower is positioned just right. You don’t look at him, and if you feel his warm breath ghosting over your skin, you don't show it.

But he looks at you.

You feel it - the weight of his gaze, the way he watches you like it’s the most natural thing in the world for you to be doing this for him, the way you've done it a hundred times before.

And that’s when it appears. That quiet, unwelcome thought.

This isn’t who I am anymore.

Because it’s not just a boutonniere. It’s the way this feels too familiar, too easy - slipping into an old version of yourself, one who smoothed Theo’s collar without thinking, who fixed his tie before he headed out the door, the one who looked after him like it was just second nature.

Years have passed. You thought you had clawed out, escaped, and yet the second he comes running back to you, you’re back here, in his orbit, making sure he looks good for a moment that isn’t even yours.

And the worst part? He anticipates it.

Not in an entitled way. Not because he thinks it’s your job. But because this is how it’s always been. Because he still sees you as that girl. The one who stands beside him, just slightly behind. The one who makes things easier for him. The one who's ready to cheer him on from the sidelines. The one who's agreeable enough to not take up any more space than he could afford.

But that's just it, wasn't it? You weren't ready to give up a life of your own for his. You tolerated it until you started resenting him for it. He hadn't understood it then. He probably didn't understand it now. Either way, it didn't matter. It was too late.

“There.” You finish pinning the boutonniere, stepping away before the moment can stretch too thin.

Theo glances down at it briefly, then back at you. His lips part, like he might say something. But then someone else claps him on the back, congratulating him on something, and just like that, the moment passes.

You slip away, back into the crowd, back into yourself.

You don’t look back.

The wedding is beautiful and the reception is a vivid, lively affair. You run into so many old friends and made so many new ones that you hardly felt the lack of Theo. You rather enjoy the swing band, but now the music is shifting into something slow, sweeping - a song made for moments like this.

Couples drift onto the dance floor, drawn in by the soft pull of violin strings bathed in candlelight. You’re content watching from your seat, half-listening to the slightly obscure conversation at your table until a hand extends into your view.

Theo.

You hadn't seen him since his toast, after which his attention had been demanded by a thousand other people for reasons that had nothing to do with his fame. Even at Hogwarts, people seemed drawn in by his aloof sincerity despite his somewhat reserved demeanour. You didn't mind watching him thrive in his element - you were more than happy in the company of the sparkling liquor at your table and friends-of-friends you'd only heard of.

Now, you blink up at him, a little dazed. Perhaps it would have been wise to stay a little more sober. His expression is unreadable, but there’s a shadow in his dark eyes. A quiet insistence.

“Dance with me.”

It’s not really a question. Your first instinct is to say no, but something in the way he looks at you makes you pause.

So you take his hand.

His palm is warm with a familiar roughness as it guides yours. He leads you onto the dance floor with a practiced ease, slotting a hand against your waist as if this is something you've done a hundred times before. As if this is something you still do.

It shouldn’t feel so effortless. It shouldn’t be this easy, falling into step with him. But it is.

The rest of the room falls away.

For a while, neither of you speak. The silence between you isn’t unfamiliar—it’s lived in, worn down by time. But it doesn’t settle the way it used to. There’s something restless underneath, roaming and nervous. You wonder if he can feel it too.

His hand tightens slightly at your waist, the smallest of gestures, but it makes something twist deep in your chest.

“People will talk,” you murmur, more to fill the space than anything else.

He doesn’t even glance around. “Let them.”

Easy for him to say. He more than looks the part of someone meant to be here - sharp suit, easy confidence, the kind of presence that draws attention like gravity. He belongs in ways you can only dream of.

Your dress is simple. Pretty, but not remarkable. Not the kind of thing people would take a second look at. And yet, standing beside him, in the center of the dance floor, you can feel the weight of glances which linger too long.

You know what they see.

A girl in borrowed glamour, playing pretend in someone else’s world. A fleeting guest on the arm of someone who’s only ever been untouchable. They’re probably wondering the same thing you are - why he asked you to dance in the first place.

You draw Theo closer, wrapping your arms around his neck as you press your cheek into the crook of his neck. Anything to hide your face from him. For the first time in years, you feel inadequate.

“Relax.” You feel Theo's voice vibrate through his chest, low, almost amused, like he can read every thought passing through your mind.

"I am," you rasp. It's an unconvincing sound even to your own ears. Y

ou begin to wish you hadn't agreed to this. It was a stupid reminder of the trophy wife you never knew how to be.Despite what he might think, you hadn't abandoned your relationship at the first sign of strife. You tried - Merlin, you tried - squeezing yourself into a box to make even more room for him. But eventually, you had to accept that you just weren't that girl - the one who was glamorous yet self-fulfilled enough to be seen on his arm.

He imperceptibly slides his hand up your back. “You look fine.”

It’s a throwaway comment, a dismissive sort of reassurance. It shouldn’t matter. And yet, you feel the familiar sting of something old, something buried, something you promised yourself to forget. A part of you missed this, missed him, so here you were, play-acting at being man and wife.

The music swells, and he turns you effortlessly in time with it. You move like muscle memory, feet gliding through the motions without thinking.

Maybe this is why you said yes - because of the way his hand fits against yours, or the way his gaze softens when he thinks you’re not looking. Because the two of you can't help but work this well together.

You exhale, carefully schooling your expression into something even as you pull back to face him. “I wasn’t asking for your opinion.”

Theo’s mouth lifts at the corner—barely a smirk, but there’s something knowing in it. He doesn’t reply.

The song begins to fade, the final notes melting into the hum of the reception. Theo slows to a stop, fingers loosening around yours, and something flickers in his expression. Like he wants to say something. Like he’s looking at you - really looking, as if for the first time.

But then someone calls his name from across the room. His attention flickers, just for a second, but it’s enough. The moment shifts and dissolves.

Tomorrow you'll wake up in a cold, empty bed with aching feet. The both of you will go back to living your separate lives, but each night you'll wonder if tonight was a dream that never really happened.

You step back, slipping out of his hold before he can do it first. Before the silence between you turns into something else.

“Thanks for the dance,” you say lightly, already turning.

You don’t look back to see if he watches you go. And if your hands still feel warm where he held them, well - that’s nobody’s business but yours.

The reception hall is empty now, save for the two of you. The candles have burned low, wax pooling in their gilded holders, and the last of the champagne sits in your glass, its fizz whispering in the quiet. The music stopped a while ago. So did the dancing, the toasts, and the laughter of people whose love doesn’t come with fine print and hidden clauses.

But you’re still here. And so is Theo.

He’s warm beside you, your shoulder tucked into his as he leans back in his chair, one arm slung lazily across the back of yours. The night has left you both a little drunk, a little drowsy, a little too comfortable in each other’s company. Even with the buzz of the drinks, it's getting harder and harder to ignore the chill creeping up your arms. You don’t remember when you started leaning into him, but he hasn’t moved away. You hope he doesn't anytime soon.

He turns his head, eyeing what's left of the extravagantly lavish cake. "Seven tiers, half of which will go uneaten," Theo mutters, voice threaded with amusement. "It is Mattheo's wedding, after all. Why have enough when you can have far too much?"

You let out a soft laugh, tilting your head against his shoulder. "Like you're one to talk about...excesses."

Theo gives a long-suffering sigh.

"Is that what you think of me? Excessive?"

"I think," you say in a tone of faux innocence, "you don't want to know what I think of you."

He groans and throws his head back, eliciting a laugh from you. It's a strangely effective balm, this good-natured ribbing, or maybe it's the alcohol. You swirl the last sip of champagne in your glass. The gold catches the light, shimmering against the crystal, and you think—not for the first time tonight—how easy this is. How easy it always was with him.

Maybe it’s the champagne. Maybe it’s the quiet. Maybe it’s the fact that the wedding is over, and yet you’re still here, wrapped up in Theo like a memory, like you’ve forgotten that you were just supposed to be his date for the night.

"You’re warm," you murmur, shifting slightly to press closer.

He huffs a laugh. "You’re drunk."

"Just tipsy." You look up at him, eyes heavy-lidded. "Big difference."

The alcohol has made your consciousness deliciously blurry. You become aware of the cold, rigid surface of your shoes pressing against your aching feet. In your mind's eye, you see your slippers melting off your feet, clear as glass, dripping diamonds which promise to wound your feet.

But you're still curled up with Theo, perched on some delicate fence between exes or something more, and even now, years on, you know he won't let you fall - he never did and he never would.

If only things were the same with you.

You were no longer the girl who knew how to love Theo the way you once did, wholly and purely. You wished you were. Tears gather under your eyelashes like crystals, heavy with remorse. You wished you knew how. For the love of God, wouldn't someone tell you how?

He watches you for a beat longer than he should.

And then his hand comes up, slow enough that you could stop him if you wanted to. His knuckles ghost over your jaw, then his fingers slip beneath your chin, tilting your face toward his.

You should stop him.

But the champagne is warm in your veins, his bedroom eyes are the worst kind of drug and the way he looks at you—like he still remembers exactly how you take your tea, like he still knows how to make you laugh even when you don’t want to—makes you hesitate just long enough for his lips to brush yours.

It’s not desperate. Not hurried. Just a quiet thing, lingering at the edges of something once lost.

For a moment, you let yourself sink into it.

For a moment, it’s easy to forget.

But then the thought creeps in—quiet, insidious.

I’m not that girl.

Not the girl he wants or the girl he needs.

You pull away before the thought can swallow you whole.

Theo blinks, exhaling like he hadn’t realized he was holding his breath. It almost sounds like disappointment. He doesn’t say anything, just watches you with something unreadable in his eyes.

You don’t resent him for this. Not anymore.

It’s not his fault you still feel the echoes of something that should have faded years ago.

And it’s not your fault that you know better now.

[holyguardian]

Aerith exhaled a contented little breath, watching Alba with a small tilt of her head. If only it could feel that easy for them... to just, join in, happily, without any fear. Lucis had been full of excitement at first but then she found herself feeling daunted by so much, so soon.

Somnus must have felt it too. Like it would be impossible to ever map out this new home.

She barely got to turn around when that yelling perked her attention. "RORAN!" she called, her tone accusatory as her little brother came close to bowling her off her feet. She shocked a laugh and immediately, as if reflex, closed her arms around him in a squeezing hug.

Little man was not supposed to be here. Their mother was strict at the best of times, and look at him, flying the coop! Not that she could fault him too harshly. He didn't understand the full picture. He was shielded, as best he could be, these were exciting times where good would triumph over bad in his mind.

"I'm calling the next dragon ride you little cheek, and when I find that pumpkin I'm going to shove it on your head so we never lose you again — get back inside!" she chased him playfully, right into their father's waiting arms. The look on his face when he exited the stable to see his son flagrantly going against the rules was one she would remember for a long time.

Teeth showing in a sharp little grin, Aerith calmed a little when Somnus stepped closer to her side. Her hand brushed his, her fingers gently scooping his up to hold his hand with a small, reassuring squeeze.

"Roran is the whirlwind here, we don't have to rush. First I will take you to the barracks, the soldiers who travelled with us will get the beds inside, sheltered and warm, and then we can check in at the infirmary. They're both close walks so we don't have to go far. Let's put our minds at ease and then we will make our way inside. We'll smell ripe and awful and that's fine, we'll only be seeing my mother and no one else, and she would rather receive us as we are. Then I will show you to our room. Normally I would say it's a good time to rest before the evening meal, but I think we should get cleaned up, get dressed, and I can give you a small tour while there's still daylight. Come on." she gently pulled his hand to follow, her other hand raising to give her father and brother a wave. "We will be inside shortly. Make sure Roran doesn't let the dragon loose in the few minutes we're gone~"

Aerith guided Somnus as promised. When they reached the barracks, she respectfully remained further back, urging him to check on his men and to assess the barracks for himself. Then they changed course to the infirmary. All of the injured soldiers had already been tended to, they were in beds that looked fluffier and cozier than even those of the barracks, and they were already being assessed for potions, dressings and further treatment. It made her briefly turn her attention on him, nudging to see how he was feeling. He was good, he claimed. Better than good.

Then she was guiding him to the inner-palace. Even made to pause, coaxing Gilgamesh closer so he would have no troubles with access from the Queensguard. It was immediately obvious how strict they were — a sad necessity.

"I don't know what your normal arrangements are in Lucis, but we'll make sure you aren't far from Somnus. Eeeeeven if we have to put you in my pretty pink bedroom, but I'm certain my mother has that all worked out." Aerith spoke to Gilgamesh, apparently more than comfortable with a one-sided conversation.

"Here we are." she nodded to the Queensguard, who opened up the final door. The inner-most palace, where her mother waited with an incredibly worried look on her face. While Roran escaped, she received an update about the caravan from her elite guards.

"Oh, Aerith, Somnus," Ifalna uttered, sounding exactly as she looked, a deeply worried mother. She approached them without any titles or air of royalty, simply gathering them both into a hug. Her left arm held a strong grip around Somnus, though her right was weaker where she held Aerith. "Are you okay?" she asked, looking between them.

Aerith melted immediately. Her lips pursed as she smiled, her brows creased, and she tried her best to keep herself held together. She had been standing straight for so long, but one worried word from her mother and she felt like a delicate flower again. "Mum... we'll be okay, it's okay," she reassured, hugging her back. She cast a quick glance to Somnus at her side, cleared her throat a little. "I was going to show Somnus where our room is. After everything that happened, we really need to have a good scrub and new sets of clothes. We can talk about it later, if you want, but we could also just not talk about it too. It really sucked. Now we're home."

Ifalna gave her daughter a look. Of course she would dodge the talk, her specialty was dodging the talks. But the Queen nodded her consent nevertheless. She could get the full story from her husband, after all. "Alright. Off you go. But I do expect to see you at dinner."

There was so much to take in. Everything was familiar – and yet entirely different. Somnus recognize the way the capital was built up. Though the castle was closer to town. With higher walls. And many mor stories. Only the tower of the divine could reach that high back at home. Somnus had to make an effort not to stare with an open mouth constantly.

He tried to keep everything in mind that Aerith told him – but it was overwhelming.  Usually he was so good at retaining information… but now… Somnus was just quietly grateful he could lead Alba to a good place. The Chocobos there really were treated like royalty. Back at home the gysah greens were all they got as treats and anything above that? Somnus had scavenge for that himself. Here, they got handed produce from the endless fields beyond the walls.

The farmlands really were a gigantic basket of goods. That was what his mother had once called these lands. So fertile and giving, that the entirety of Eos could be fed here. Mayb that was an overestimation. But now Somnus really could see, why others wanted these lands so badly.

He would have to visit all these places. The Queenswoods. The Ancient Forest. If he was permitted, of course…

Alba seemed happy, squeaking sweetly at Aerith when she was fussed again, before she proudly trotted off to join the other Chocobos at the feeding trays.

Somnus looked after her for a moment, still holding onto her reigns – and hoping he would have a similarly easy introduction into the court here as his feathery friend, who was already ruffling her feathers among the others.

Just as he turned to follow Aeirth, teher was a loud yell and someone came barrelling through the guards and soldiers.

Blond spiky hair with arms thrown up and a smile so big, as if it was Roran’s birthday and nameday at once.

“AERIIITH!”, the boy knew no mercy, running for his sister and he would have probably overthrown her with a hug, had he not come to a skittering halt right in front of her. His arms thrown around her, he seemed to cuddle against her with the biggest glee.

“Finally you’re here! It was so boring! Have you seen all the soldiers gathered outside?! I flew over them with uncle Leif, I was allowed outside once! It was amazing! And we have a giant pumpkin from the harvest! It’s as big as Nidhogg’s head, you have to come and see it! And tell mom to make pumpkin soup from it, not roast it! The cooks don’t listen to me! Oh, hello, Somnus!”

Wow. Somnus did not even know what to say. The boy was like a whirlwind and Somnus could barely lift his hand, when he was passed by the prince consort, who picked the boy from the hug with a sidenoted: “Prince Somnus, Roran.”

Though there was no real scolding, the boy just continuing his laughter, when picked up and hugging his father, who tried to chastise him for not staying in the inner palace and listening to his mother.

Somnus used that opprtunity to step to Aerith's side once more, whispering questions: "Are we expected to wash and dress up first? Into what?"

[mickeys-been-staying-at-ians]

So Dean is fucked up after Cas is taken into the Empty obviously, all melancholy, no sleep, drinking too much, you know his gist. Sam probably tries to get him to talk about it, but he would never tell him everything Cas said, you know. So Dean is miserable, and Sam is miserable, but THEY DON'T STOP trying to get Cas back.

And they do, somehow. So Cas appears somewhere in the library or wherever they were Doing What Brought Him Back and there's a second of confused, vulnerable silence because this can't be real don't believe it's real he's gonna disappear and it's gonna suck all over again but he stays, and looks at Dean, and then Dean is hugging him, clutching him like... well, like everything that happened, happened, and they're breathing each other in. Cas hasn't had the chance to think about what it all means, yet, so he's not overthinking it. Then they break apart, and Dean has tears in his eyes and his lower lip is shaking, and while Sam hugs Cas, too, Dean's body is like, shutting down, months of exhaustion (physical and emotional) catching up to him, and he feels it coming, so when Sam gets Cas to sit down, making him drink some water, Dean's like "I'm just gonna-" and he's running into his room and he doesn't even make it inside before he starts sobbing. He's sitting against his bed, his face in his hands, all wet now, when Sam comes in. Maybe he knocked, maybe not, Dean couldn't hear him. And he tries to cover himself a little, but Sam sees anyway, and he's so tired, so he just. Doesn't care.

And Sam says, "Dean, don't hide from him" and Dean isn't sobbing anymore but he's still crying into his palms, saying "I'm so tired, Sammy" and Sam knows. He doesn't know what happened between Dean and Cas but Cas said he did something and now Dean wouldn't feel comfortable around him. So, you know. Sam can guess, a little.

So he says, "He thinks you don't want anything to do with him anymore" and "you should go talk to him" and Dean is like "I can't" and he doesn't know why, maybe because he's exhausted, or because he doesn't know what to say to him , or because Cas sacrifised himself for him again, or because he told him he loved him and turned Dean's world upside down and disappeared, or maybe because he's scared.

And Sam knows this is all happening in Dean's head and he knows some of it is whispered to him in their dad's voice, so he says, "you know nothing in the world would ever change how I think of you," and Dean's head snaps towards him, wet with bloodshot eyes, confused and terrified, but he doesn't say anything, so Sam asks, "what really happened down there?" and Dean knows Sam knows. There's a hand squeezing his heart and lungs and he can't breathe, and Sam knows, and Dean wishes he could go back to when it wasn't even an option.

"He's your best friend," Sam says, and he is, he is, he's Dean's best friend, above all else, it's not just sacrifises and battles and blood and desperate confessions, it's also movies and music and inside jokes, so Dean asks Sam to get Cas. He does, and leaves them in Dean's room alone. And Dean says "don't ever die for me again" and "you think you saved me but i was barely alive" and "next time we die together" which is maybe a little fucked up, but he's feeling so raw. He says, "you're my best friend" and looks at Cas, hoping Cas hears everything he isn't saying, how Cas is the most important person in all the universes to Dean. He's family, but he doesn't say that, doesn't want Cas to think he's family like anyone else, because Cas is more. To Dean, Cas is- something Dean won't say yet, but he is.

And they have a quiet dinner with Sam because they're all tired, and Cas showers while they turn on the TV and bring out a couple of beers, and they act like it's a normal day in their life. Dean's head keeps falling and his eyes keep closing, his temples aching, but he stays, and at some point Sam goes to sleep, and when they're alone Cas tries to get Dean to go, too, but he keeps coming up with lame excuses to stay and Cas doesn't know what to make of it until he thinks maybe Dean doesn't want to be alone, or even - maybe Dean doesn't want to leave Cas alone, maybe he's scared something will happen to him again, or maybe he wants to just - be with Cas longer. And Cas is completely out of his element, because why would Dean- But it doesn't matter. His priority has always been Dean's well-being, so if there's any chance Dean is pushing himself because of - some of that, Cas will step up.

So he asks Dean if he can sleep in Dean's room tonight because he doesn't want to be alone. And there's a blaring red light going off in Dean head, screaming he knows he knows he knows Dean wants him to... what? Dean doesn't even know. Cas is asking as if for himself, for Dean's benefit, and Dean. God. Dean loves him, doesn't he? He's always loved him, but he loves him like... like... but he doesn't think it, still. He feels too open, now, and he wants to lock himself in his room and sleep it off and drink and stop feeling so vulnerable, he thinks he must be an open book to everyone, to Cas especially, and god, could people always tell? Can Cas tell, now? But why does it matter? Cas told him- he told him-

But none of it matters, because Cas is here, and he's offereing Dean an easy way out, and Dean is a weak, weak man, and he's exhausted and all he wants is to breathe Cas' air and know he's here, and not going anywhere.

So Dean puts on an old T-shirt and gets out of his jeans like he always does before realizing Cas is here. He flushes all over, sits down on his bed because he didn't think about how this was gonna go. Cas glances at the desk as if he was gonna sit in his chair the whole night, and Dean doesn't actually know if Cas sleeps now or doesn't, which he maybe should've thought of before, but before he can say anything, Cas says, "Dean, I don't want to make you uncomfortable" and Dean, completely lost, says the first thing that comes to his mind, which is, "can you lie down with me?" which is not exactly how he was gonna tell Cas he's the opposite of uncomfortable with him, but it does the trick. He makes Cas get out of his dress pants and gives him a T-shirt to sleep in, too, and flushes even more when he realizes what Cas is wearing. Dean lies down when Cas steps towards the bed, faces the wall because he doesn't know what to do with himself. They lie in silence for an awkward moment before Cas says, "are we okay?" and Dean says, "of course we are" and Dean knows Cas is still overthinking it, and he is, too, but... Cas took the leap, and he must feel so uncertain about them, and Dean thinks he owes him something, at least. Cas told him he loved him. Nothing felt right since then, because Cas died and because Cas thought he could never have what he wanted and because Cas thought he wasn't the most important person in Dean's life with Sammy, whatever that meant, and because Dean had to come to terms with that reality, a reality where Cas loves him, has loved him, him, Dean, broken and all. A man. A man Cas thought beautiful, and loving, and- and Dean has many issues, but Cas was never one of them, and Cas deserves to feel certain about his place in Dean's life.

So Dean asks Cas to come closer, and there's a still moment before Cas does, still too far away from Dean, and Dean can't see him, can't make himself turn because his heart is beating so loud he thinks if he looks at Cas, it's gonna beat out of his chest. So he reaches behind himself, finds Cas' hand and brings it forward, keeps it between his hands and brings them to his face. Breathes Cas in. "Please don't leave again" he says, in that tone he used when he prayed to Cas. He feels Cas shift, finally, as if he lost some of the tension from his body, feels the bed dip behind him, and he doesn't know how Cas moves but then Dean's back is pressed against Cas' front, and despite his beating heart, Dean is feeling the exhaustion start to take him. "Cas, I..." he tries, but he can't think anymore, can't make sense of anything.

"You can fall asleep, Dean," Cas says, his words warm in Dean's hair and the last thing he hears before sleep takes him is "I will be here when you wake up."

So when Dean wakes up, it's to a heavy arm around his chest and slow breaths against the back of his head. There's no moment of confusion about who he's with, or why. He doesn't even get a second to consider if it was real before Cas says "good morning, Dean" and Dean wonders if Cas slept at all. If he needs to sleep, now. There's so much they need to talk about, all three of them.

"Cas," he tries again, remembereing his attempt from last night. He needs Cas to know, for sure. "Cas, I - what you said. You know I. I've never..." and Cas is like "I know, Dean" but he sounds a little confused, so Dean doensn't know what Cas thinks he knows. So he turns, takes a second to notice how close they are now, and he thinks about Cas' eyes, his lips. Thinks, soon.

"You have to know," he says, as if Cas didn't say anything. "You have to know how I - what I" and he can't get the words out, not sure if it would be easier if there were no words to get out or if there were no voices in his head screaming over them. So he breathes in, Cas' scent overtaking his senses, brings his palm to Cas' face. Closes his eyes. Thinks, soon. Thinks, now, and meets Cas halfway.