#easily one of my top five moments

[potato-jem]

i don’t see enough people talk about how the scene at the new year’s eve party where alex introduces henry to the song “get low” by lil jon

[saeun]

he's married ?! nanami kento.

sum. he's easily the top most handsome guy within his job. his relationship status is unknown, so what happens when his co-workers ship him with a female worker?

nanami is well known within his company. tall, insanely fit, and an attractive voice. it's not uncommon for men and women alike to find themselves thinking about him often. what's not common is knowing about his love life. no one knows anything and he would've kept it that way. but when push comes to shove, and you're shipped with someone who's not your beloved, nanami will make it known that he's not only taken but married.

in the coffee-break room there are three guys. now, there's nothing unusual about this — no, no. they're just three guys that are co-workers... except there's a twist. they aren't your regular co-workers, they're your uncommon trio of male gossipers and nanami just so happened to be their newest victim.

"shh, shh! he's here," guy one, tichi, whispers to the others, raising his eyebrows and pointing his chin to nanami's position.

the other two take a quick glance, nodding their heads when they've seen nanami's back faced towards them. it's a perfect moment to strike up a conversation, especially since it's just four men here.

guy two, tacho, shuffles his feet to the empty space near nanami. he pretends to open a sugar packet, fiddling with it as his eyes peep over nanami's shoulder. his heart skips multiple beats when the man himself turns around.

"morning to you, tacho," nanami greets, nodding his head before he turns his attention back to his cup of coffee.

"y-yeah, morning!" he stutters, awkwardly smiling in return. he turns his head to the other two in the background, mouthing the word 'help' to them. unfortunately, they do not give the aid to their friend. instead, tichi fakes a series of coughs and guy three, toeny, gives him a confident double thumbs up. there's no hope, tacho sighs.

it's a silent moment between the men — only the sounds of coffee brewing and a spoon coming into contact with the mug can be heard. tacho's mouth itches him, he happened to remember his group's recent conversation about nanami. he must ask — even if it costs him a mutual co-worker.

"so, nanami," he begins, waiting for nanami to give him the undivided attention.

nanami doesn't face him, but he hums in response. tacho doesn't mind this as an answer, so he continues, "i was wondering if the rumors of you being with the new worker, yeri, are true?"

there is one big lie in that question: there are no such rumors. it's just a theory the trio has been gossiping about every night. nanami's been helping out yeri for quite some time, one can only think that they have a special connection going on.

"that is bullshit," nanami gives a firm answer. nothing more, nothing less.

tacho's stunned, he blinks a few times to recollect himself. "oh — so you're not with her?"

nanami doesn't answer yet, but the two in the back give their unwanted reactions. tichi clicks his tongue three times, shaking his head in disappointment at tacho's second question. it's obvious dumbass, he thinks. toeny, on the other hand, presses his lips in a thin line, pretending to read a magazine that's been on the counter.

nanami reaches into his pocket, whipping out his phone. the trio's confused until nanami speaks.

"i am married man. this is my wife," he educates, pressing the power button to show you as his lockscreen.

he collects three gasps, internally nodding at their shock. that's right, i'm gladly taken.

"all this time you've been... MARRIED?!" tacho's voice heightens, he drops his spoon in shock. it's unbelievable yet somewhat believable.

nanami breathes out a 'yes', raising his arm to show the wristwatch. "she bought this for our five-years anniversary recently. it's quite expensive, going over four-thousand," he brags, emphasizing on key words.

he's been waiting for the precious day where someone indirectly asks for his relationship status. the day has come and he will spend it bragging about his beloved.

nanami doesn't give them a chance to speak, he carries on with his bragging, "she's a very lovely woman. all my bentos are made by her and she writes little notes for each. some may think it's childish but that's bullshit! they just haven't experienced the love of a woman. matter of fact, her most beautiful moments are when she's freshly awake. the smile she gives me is nothing but angelic."

his speech doesn't stop there, but it did for the trio. his words went in one ear and out the next. nanami's blabbering about his wife immediately set a blank face upon tichi, tacho, and toeny. they're jealous and also surprised.

"the way a woman can change a man will never not be amazing," toeny whispers, blankly gazing at nanami's ongoing speech.

[stllmnstr]

every fragile thing

pairing: park sunghoon x f reader

genre: enemies to lovers, figure skating au, college/university au

word count: 12.3k

warnings: alcohol consumption, jealousy, non graphic descriptions/depictions of injuries, use of the american (usa) university system, a kiss or five

soundtrack: get him back! / brutal / jealousy, jealousy / good 4 u / the grudge / bad idea right? / drivers license - olivia rodrigo

After an ankle injury lands you in mandated physical therapy sessions instead of on the ice where you should be training for nationals, you're absolutely certain you must be the most frustrated, emotionally volatile figure skater on the planet. Park Sunghoon proves you wrong.

or,

every fragile thing has one of two choices: become stronger or shatter into a million pieces.

note: hi hello yes this is me on a new blog with the same name. I deleted my old one and wasn't sure if I planned on remaking/reposting but here we are! if you've read this before, then I hope you enjoy just as much this time around. and if you haven't, I hope you love figure skater sunghoon just as much as I do! happy reading ♡

Silence. One word, two syllables. A fairly straightforward term with a meaning that can be easily deduced from a quick scan of its Merriam-Webster definition. 

But unlike many words, silence is one that’s typically learned through experience. Through stilted moments, pregnant pauses, dreamlike moments in the dead of night while the world around you is at a standstill. 

In the moments just before the music starts, when it feels as if the audience around you is holding their breath. And you stand at the center of it all, blades of your tightly laced skates against ice, chest rising and falling in time with your heartbeat, mind spinning with possibility. In those moments, your long trained muscles take over, following the memory of countless repetitions as your body prepares to do what it knows best. 

There’s a question in that silence. One that’s asked with baited breath. 

Will I land this skill? Will I go home with a medal around my neck, cold weight a familiar comfort against my skin? Will this be my best performance yet? Will they love it? Love me?

That, as you’ve come to learn, is your favorite kind of silence. The kind that’s filled with endless possibility, with the promise of something beautiful or disastrous or some odd mix of the two to come. 

The feeling of freedom, of flying as blade cuts through ice, as your body defies gravity with every jump, every spin. 

But that is very much not the kind of silence that greets you where Dr. Min eyes you warily over the top of his pristine clipboard, a crease forming between his dark eyebrows. Frowning, he glances at the paper once more before returning his gaze to you. 

“You’re sure you’ve been resting? No weight on the fracture at all?”

It takes a good chunk of your willpower not to roll your eyes. Mostly because you’re lying through your teeth, but who’s keeping track? 

“Yes, I’m sure.” Gesturing to the thick black boot the lower part of your left leg and foot have been imprisoned in for the better part of a month, you add, “This thing’s still coming off in two weeks, right?”

Two weeks is pushing it, but you’ve done more with less. Two weeks puts you exactly three months out from regionals, which gives you exactly ninety-one days to pull together the most jaw dropping program you or the judges have ever seen. One that’s certain to land you on the podium and secure a spot at nationals. 

Once again, you thank your lucky stars for Coach Lee. She’s been with you since you were still struggling to lace your own skates, and there’s no one else you’d trust to have you ready for regionals in such a short time frame. No one else you’d bet your fate on like this. 

“That was our original time frame, yes…” Dr. Min trails off, avoiding your gaze in a way that has your stomach dropping unpleasantly. 

“And we’ll be sticking to it, I’m sure.” You hate the way the end of your phrase turns up like a question. 

Dr. Min sighs. “Look, ___, our original time frame was ambitious to begin with, and I hate to tell you this, but your ankle is not healing as well as we’d hoped. Fractures don’t heal overnight, and the best thing for you right now is rest.” 

The argument is already forming on your tongue. “But—”

“I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m not trying to ruin your life, ___. Truly. I’m saying this to you as the parent of an athlete and a former athlete myself. Pushing yourself now will only lead to reinjury in the future and will also very likely shorten your career. Your ankle needs to heal before you skate on it again. It needs to heal before you so much as put weight on it. And you need to let it heal completely.” The sincerity in his voice is hard to stomach when he says, “Believe me when I tell you that you’ll regret it for the rest of life if you don’t.”

And logically, you know he’s right. Know that this will be nothing but a minor setback if you allow it to run its course. If you follow his advice to rest and heal. But skating has never been something you’ve done with the logical parts of yourself. And Dr. Min doesn’t get it. You tell him as much. “You don’t understand what you’re asking me to do. Regionals are in less than four months, and—”

“I hear you. Believe me, I do. But this is your third year of university, which means you have another shot at nationals next year. If you push it and try to skate before you’re ready, you may very well lose that chance too.”

“So I’m supposed to do what? Sit around and do nothing until my ankle decides to cooperate?” Even voicing the possibility has you suppressing a grimace. 

But Dr. Min has different thoughts. “Yes. That is exactly what you need to do.”

You don’t avert your gaze. Neither does he. Finally, after a moment, he sighs. “My recommendation at this point is still rest, but—”

“But?” Your excitement is impossible to contain fully. 

Dr. Min levels you with a cautionary look over his clipboard. “But, if you’re going to do anything, our athletics department does also run a physical therapy program, which I think could be beneficial. It would help to retain flexibility, mobility, and agility in the areas of your leg that support your ankle. It could help get you back on the ice faster and maintain the leg strength you’ve built. There’s a group session that runs on Tuesday afternoons—”

“Yes,” you nod, not bothering to hear the end of his statement. “Yes, I’ll do that.”

“I… okay.” As much as you want to hate him for it, Dr. Min has a point. And while you doubt physical therapy will be anywhere near as grueling as your usual workouts, it sounds a hell of a lot better than doing nothing. 

…

You’ve never liked hospitals. The odd juxtaposition of white, lifeless sterility and a culmination of some of life’s most painful moments has always left an unpleasant taste on your tongue. 

It’s one that has you double checking the address Dr. Min forwarded to you as you enter the oddly cheerful building that is apparently home to a renowned athletics physical therapy facility. Despite the medical purpose, there’s a distinct liveliness that envelops the space. 

The woman at reception informs you that this is indeed the right building and the session you’re attending has just begun in the room to your left. 

Pausing at the door, you’re struck with a sudden timidness. A physical therapy group for athletes will obviously be filled with, well, athletes. And although you can’t speak too harshly on that particular subsect of people, being one yourself, they can be intimidating. It must be the competitiveness, you think. The drive to push, succeed, win that gives off such a distinct aura.

Steeling yourself with one last breath, you remind yourself that’s why you’re here. To get back to that version of you that has everyone else feeling a little shier. That version of you that eats, breathes, and sleeps with ice skates laced on your feet and visions of the top of a podium driving your every decision. 

With determination straightening your brow, you push open the door. 

And immediately find yourself grateful for the mental preparation as three heads snap in your direction.  

Hitching your bag up an inch on your shoulder, you try not to melt under the sudden awkwardness. Thankfully, one of them is better at breaking ice than you.

“Hi,” the boy closest to you is the first to fill the silence. He’s all smiles where he gives you a friendly wave, moving a stray hair out of his eyes with a flick of his head as he tells you, “I’m Jungwon.”

You offer your name in return, trying on a smile to match his friendliness. You have a feeling it comes more naturally to him than it ever will to you, though. 

Regardless, he offers an equally cheerful, “Nice to meet you.” Glancing over to where the second boy is moving through a series of stretches, Jungwon makes eye contact, silently telling him he’s up next. 

Even mid-stretch, he acquiesces. “I’m Niki,” the second boy follows. 

“And I’m Jake.” The last boy doesn’t need any prompting from Jungwon. Nodding towards the walking boot that covers the bottom half of your left leg, he glances at a similar one that he wears on his own. “Looks like we’re twins. Tore up my achilles pretty bad in my last soccer match,” he explains. “What about you?”

“Fractured my ankle,” you return, a rueful smile dragging your lips up. “Figure skater.”

“Ah, man.” Jungwon winces. “That sucks.”

You shrug, forcing a nonchalance you don’t feel. “No worse than a busted achilles.” 

“That’s cool that you skate though,” Jake offers. “Kind of a funny coincidence, actually. There’s another—”

Whatever it is, he doesn’t get to finish the thought. At that moment, the door opens again, this time revealing a middle aged woman in a white physician’s coat. Her name tag reads Dr. Kim, and she introduces herself as such to you. 

“Looks like everyone’s here, including our new members.” She gives another cursory nod in your direction. “Welcome again.” Glancing around, the instructor pauses. “Oh, wait. Except for—”

“I’m here, I’m here.” For the second time in the span of a minute, the door behind you opens. You don’t miss the glance that passes between Niki and Jake. You turn to face the new arrival, but his back is to you as he sets his bag down and begins the process of switching his shoes. 

The way the new member enters with a dismissive wave of his hand and lack of proper greeting has you thinking tardiness is not an uncommon trait of his. Even from behind, you can feel the waves of arrogance he exudes. That seems to align more with your preconceived notions of athletes. 

Studying him for another second, a sinking feeling of dread begins to build in the pit of your stomach. Long, dark hair. Unnaturally graceful movements, even if all he’s doing is digging through his bag. Tall stature, broad shoulders, long legs. 

An athlete’s build through and through. Perfectly suited for the ice. 

“Great.” Despite the statement, Dr. Kim’s tone is flat. “Well, we were just getting started and introducing ourselves since we have someone new joining us today.”

“Hi,” he offers, still fixated on his bag, yet to offer as much as a glance in your direction. If anything, it only serves as a confirmation of his identity. “I’m—” You don’t even need to hear him say it. 

“Sunghoon?”

At that, he does finally look up. 

Gaze locking with yours, a moment of confusion is quickly replaced by a furrow in his brow, the slight downturn of his lips. He’s not thrilled to see you either. 

A beat passes. 

Two. 

Neither of you break eye contact. 

The silence extends to the point of discomfort for all four onlookers, each of them hesitant to break the tension that’s rising by the second. 

Finally, Dr. Kim takes a knife to the tension. “Do you two know each other?” 

Park Sunghoon. Renowned figure skater at your rival university. Someone with such a natural knack for carving lines through ice that whispers of prodigy have been shadowing his footsteps since the minute he put them on a rink. 

Someone with his head so far up his own ass you’re not sure how he can see half the time, much less keep his hair looking so perfect. 

Oh, you know him alright. 

“___?”

And it would seem he remembers you as well. 

It also answers Dr. Kim’s question well enough. 

“Ah, good.” It sounds like a question, like she’s hoping your acquaintance will be a positive thing instead of a disaster. You don’t have the heart to tell her otherwise. “The figure skating community is tight knit, I suppose.”

You suppress a scoff. That’s one word for it, you guess. 

You remember when it felt that way to you, too. Before tight knit became too small. Back before university, when it felt like it was you and Park Sunghoon against the world, instead of against each other. Back when the two of you didn’t skate for opposing teams but instead were members of the same club. A time when you took the ice together, skated as partners until he—

You force your thoughts to stop in their tracks. Your blood pressure has spiked enough in the last few days, and thinking back on long days spent with Park Sunghoon will only send it skyrocketing again. 

If anything, you’ll use this opportunity to practice perfecting your poker face for when you inevitably run into him at future competitions. 

And future competitions means you need a healed ankle, not a bruised ego. And certainly not an unpleasant trip down memory lane. 

Turning away from Sunghoon, you’re the first one to answer when Dr. Kim asks if you’re ready to get started. 

“Yes,” you tell her, determination written across your brow, in the set of your shoulders, and perhaps most noticeably, in the way you avoid Sunghoon’s wandering gaze for the next two hours. 

…

Without the rink, days are quick to meld into one another. It may be concerning, considering that you still have a set schedule of classes and homework to follow, but your life has revolved around training for so long that it’s hard to tell Mondays from Wednesdays without a set practice schedule. 

Thankfully, you do still make it back to the clinic at the right time on the right day, this time for another session with Dr. Kim and your fellow band of broken athletes. 

Including him. 

Aside from the glaringly obvious exception, you’re not as bothered at the thought of returning as you feared you might be. 

Jungwon, Niki, and Jake have proven themself pleasant enough company, and Dr. Kim seems to have built an understanding of how difficult it is to be forcibly removed from the sport you love. As such, she’s one of the least aggravating medical professionals you’ve spent time around. 

“Hey,” Niki greets when you arrive. “Did you have a good weekend?”

You shrug. “Good enough. Mostly just catching up on homework.” Setting your bag down and switching out your shoes, you join him on the mat, beginning the series of warm-up stretches Dr. Kim instructed you through last week. “What about you?”

“Not too bad. I got some good news from my doctor, actually.” He switches legs in his stretch, and you’re almost envious of his flexibility. He’s a dancer, and an exceedingly good one at that. One with an unfortunate knee injury at the moment. “My x-rays are looking a lot better. He thinks I might be able to start easing back into regular use by next month.” 

“That’s great,” you smile, even as a pang of jealousy stabs somewhere near your gut. “I’m really happy for you, Niki.” 

“A month still feels like forever, though, doesn’t it?” He sighs. “I can’t remember the last time I was out of the studio for this long.” 

Jungwon slides down onto the mat next to you, joining in on the stretch routine. “Consider yourself lucky, man. They told me at my last check-up that I probably won’t be able to do any jumping or kicks again for at least three months even though the fracture is already mostly healed.” He shakes his head. “No jumping or kicking,” he echoes, sarcasm dripping from every word. “You know, things that are super easy to avoid in taekwondo.”

“If it’s any consolation, I just got told that I’m gonna have to sit out of regionals this year. Which means I’ll have no way of qualifying for nationals.” You wonder how many times you’ll have to admit that particular reality to yourself before the sting starts to fade. 

“That sucks.” Jake agrees, coming down to the mat and occupying the spot next to Niki. “I’ll probably have to sit for this entire season, too. I love my team, but it’s so frustrating watching them play when I know I could be an asset on the field.”

“That’s true.” You’re struck by a sudden wave of sympathy. “At least skating is an individual sport, so the only person I have to disappoint is myself.” 

“Speaking of skating,” Jungwon sounds hesitant as he approaches the subject. “Do you and Sunghoon, uh…” he pauses for a moment in search of a neutral way of framing the unmistakable tension that surfaced the last time he saw the two of you together. “Do you two know each other?”

Grimacing internally, you suppose an explanation was bound to be solicited after your icy reunion. “We skate for rival universities.” Your gaze fixes on a spot on the ground. “And before college we used to, uh, we used to skate for the same club.”

The three boys share a glance. It’s hardly an explanation for the venom you said his name with but before they can press you further, the subject in question enters the room. 

Again, he takes his time setting his bag down, getting his things ready. This time, he also pulls out an obnoxiously big pair of headphones, secures them over his ears before he bothers to turn around. Despite the fact that all three boys offer him friendly smiles and waves, he returns the gesture only with a tight smile, making his way to the mat on the opposite side of the room before he begins his stretch routine.

It’s a message that rings loud and clear. A frown passes between Jake, Jungwon, and Niki. It’s obvious to you, then, that you’re the reason he chose to set himself up as far away as physically possible. 

So be it, you think, letting the slight roll right off of you. It’s not the first time he’s given you the cold shoulder for something he plays an equal part in, and you doubt it will be the last. 

Besides, it will only make your sessions pass by quicker, if the burden of avoiding gazes and minimizing interactions falls on his shoulders instead of yours.

With nothing but a shrug, you adjust slightly, ensuring that the only view he has of you is of your back. 

…

It’s a pattern that continues as physical therapy sessions start to become a regular routine in your week. Sunghoon, with his apparent disdain for anyone’s time but his own, is always the last to arrive. He also continues his habit of picking the spot in the room furthest away from you. 

Despite the fact that you’d like to chalk it up to his social ineptitude alone, that explanation doesn’t track. Although there’s still a certain aura of aloofness that follows where he goes, it’s too often that you see him smiling at a joke cracked by Jake or sharing easy conversations with Jungwon and Niki.  

Hell, he even interacts with Dr. Kim with a level of warmth you didn’t know was possible coming from him. If there’s any disdain in their conversations, he directs it all towards his right wrist. It’s why he’s here, you assume. Encased in a brace similar to the one you wear on your left ankle, his right forearm seems to be the reason for his attendance. 

It’s hard to not be envious. While a wrist injury is nothing to scoff at, it doesn’t necessarily keep you off the ice. Not in the same way a fractured ankle does. 

Refocusing your thoughts, you push the boy across the room firmly out of mind as Dr. Kim helps adjust you into the next stretch.

“How about now?” Dr. Kim pushes your spine a fraction of an inch further, pressure light but demanding. Before, this much flexibility would have been an easy request of your body, but lack of use has your muscles feeling tight. “Any tightness or pain?”

“No.” The bead of sweat on your brow begs to differ, as does the way the negation slipped through gritted teeth. 

But you’re frustrated. Annoyed at the progress you’ve lost, at the new limits of your body, at the way you feel like a stranger in your own skin. 

Across the room, you miss the flicker of annoyance that flits over Sunghoon’s features. Headphones on as always, you imagine you’re nothing more than a blip on his radar, a pesky intruder that’s easily ignored as long as he has his back to you. 

“Hm,” Dr. Kim muses. “You’ve retained more flexibility than I expected.” She offers you a smile. “That’s a good thing, a sign of a quick recovery.”

You suppress a grimace. It should be a good thing. You should be recovering quickly. If only you could get your stupid body to cooperate. 

Stealing another glance at the boy across the room, you can’t help the way a small burst of rage bubbles in your stomach. Prodigy. Why does he always get to be the anomaly, the exception to the rule? His injury is already less severe than yours, and he’s probably recovering quickly, too. Without even having to fake it.

Easing you out of the stretch, Dr. Kim jots down a quick note. “I’ll have Dr. Min run another x-ray at your next visit.” Nodding towards your ankle, she adds, “I think there’s a good chance that things are looking a lot better, and updated x-rays will help guide our next sessions.” She pauses for a minute. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself or get your hopes up, but I think we might be able to start putting some weight back on it soon. Start getting it stronger again.” 

You’re hesitant to let your excitement grow too much. But it would be a lie if you weren’t already counting the days until your next visit with Dr. Min in your head. “Thank you,” you tell her. “I’ll hope those x-rays come back looking good, then.”

“Me too,” she smiles. “I’ll see you next week, then. Hopefully with good news.”

You nod, returning her smile before heading to the door to gather your things. Jungwon catches you on your way out. 

“Hey, ___, hold on a sec.” When you turn back towards him, he tells you, “The rest of us are gonna grab lunch at a place nearby, if you want to join.”

Your uncertainty must write itself across your features, because he’s quick to add, “Don’t worry. Sunghoon won’t be there. He’s got a class right after this.”

Slightly embarrassed by the way he read you so easily, you nod. “Sure. Lunch sounds good.” Despite their friendliness with Sunghoon, you’ve come to like the three of them. And it’s been far too long since you broke up the monotony of class, homework, and medical appointments with something as simple as lunch with friends. 

And as long as he’s not there, you imagine it will be nothing but pleasant. 

It doesn’t take long for them to prove you wrong. 

Niki barely lets you get one bite in before he asks, “So, what exactly happened between you two?” Even without the name, the question is obvious. 

Still, after choking on the sip of water you’d been taking, you answer, “Who?”

Jake just gives you a look. 

You sigh. “Like I said, we used to skate for the same club. We, uh, never really got along, I guess.” Avoiding eye contact, you add, “And now we skate for rival schools. I suppose it’s only natural to not like each other.”

Niki doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, that sounds made up.”

Jungwon swallows his bite, parts his lips like he has something to say. Internally, you heave a sigh of relief. If any of the three of them spare you, you have a feeling it would be him. “I mean, it does seem like something else must have happened.”

Or not. 

“You don’t have to tell us,” he adds. “But it’s just… I mean, the two of you can’t even look at each other.”

Sighing, you suppose the circumstances do look odd from the outside. “There was… an incident. Back when we used to skate together.”

“What?” Jake asks. “Did he steal your skates right before a show or something?” 

“No, no.” You shake your head. “It happened on the ice, actually. During a program.”

“Wait,” Niki interrupts. “You said you used to skate together. Do you mean like, as partners?”

The guilt on your face says it all. 

“No way.” Jake says. 

Jungwon’s eyes grow bigger. “What did he do?”

“Yeah,” Niki turns to face you fully. “Wouldn’t being his partner be a good thing? At least on the ice, I mean. I know he can be a little insufferable, but isn’t he some sort of prodigy—”

“Prodigy, my ass.” You’re so sick of that goddamn word. “Wasn’t a prodigy when he dropped me in the middle of our program at junior nationals, was he?”

The way all three or their jaws drop in unison is almost worth the admission. 

But the thing is, he was. No accusatory fingers pointed in his direction after it happened. No one blamed prodigy Park Sunghoon for the mishap. 

No, it was decided fair and square by the jury of public opinion that the mistake was entirely your fault, your burden to bear. And it’s not like you were immune to the criticism. Whispers followed where you went. And you always, always managed to hear them. 

Maybe if you’d trained a little harder, completed the second rotation a little sooner, the skill would have gone off without a hitch, they mused. Hell, maybe if you’d stuck to your diet a little better, those last two pounds would have spelled the difference between a perfect landing and your ass on frozen ground, program music still crescendoing as onlookers watched with horrified fascination.

“Oh,” Jungwon grimaces. 

“That’s rough,” Niki agrees. 

And they don’t even know the worst of it. Don’t know that back then, at fifteen, you’d had a giant, soul crushing, earth shattering, massive crush on your skating partner. That you searched for his approval just as eagerly as you’d sought out your coach’s. 

That you’d squeezed in as many extra practice sessions as physically possible for five months leading up to the routine just to make sure you were as close to flawless as possible, just to make sure you were chosen to be his partner on the ice. 

That you giggled, giggled, when you saw the matching costumes the two of you would wear for the first time. 

That you followed where he went with long sighs and lovesick eyes. That you looked forward to the grueling hours you spent on the ice with him, turning perfection into something even greater. 

That your heart skipped a beat every time you ran through your program, every time he caught you with sure hands and a strong grip. 

That Park Sunghoon never made a mistake, never let you fall, not once. 

Not until a spotlight was spinning dreams into reality and you were already anticipating the secret smiles you’d share with matching gold medals around your necks. 

Not until it all shattered in a single moment. 

It was cold, as you laid there on the ice, sprawled out and unable to move from the sudden shock of it all. Luckily, you’d avoided any critical injuries. You had staggered off the ice with nothing but some bad bruising, the worst of it staining your ego and your heart. 

And after it all, no matter how many times you passed him on your way to the locker room, shared the ice with him, or searched for the gaze he pointedly avoided across the room, Park Sunghoon never uttered the two words that just might have made you forgive it all. 

Instead of an apology or even the decency of an explanation, you got a cold shoulder and a lost friendship you were too confused by to mourn. 

In the end, you’d decided to turn it all into a blessing in a very thorough disguise. From that moment onwards, all of your time on the ice was dedicated to you and you alone. Never would you let anything but the sheer strength of your own will, your own goals, motivate you to become better, faster, stronger. 

And you found that victory tasted even sweeter, when the full weight of it could rest on your shoulders alone. When no one could whisper behind their palms that the only reason you stood on the podium was a prodigy of a partner. 

So fine. Park Sunghoon didn’t owe you shit. Not an apology, an explanation, or even a second glance. 

And if he was a prodigy, an ice prince or whatever stupid title he’d earned alongside his medals, well, you’d just have to be even better.

But now, sitting across from new friends with a fractured ankle and a ruined shot at medalling this year, a quiet part of you admits for the first time that maybe, just maybe, part of that resolve is nothing but spite in disguise. Part of the anger you’ve clung to for so long isn’t directed at him, but at yourself. 

That it was embarrassing to fall in front of a crowd, yes, but it was also humiliating to know that he was hearing all those little comments about your inferiority too. To realize that his silence meant he probably agreed. That you were a liability of a partner, unequal in both skill and importance. That he could move on from the incident, from you, completely unscathed. 

That your little crush was entirely one-sided, just like the respect and admiration you’d once felt for him. 

You stare at the half-eaten lunch in front of you, appetite suddenly completely gone. 

“What a coincidence that the two of you ended up injured at the same time,” Jake muses. 

“And in the same physical therapy group.” Jungwon nods. 

“Yeah,” you echo hollowly. “What a coincidence.”

…

When Park Sunghoon speaks to you for the first time in five years, it’s completely by accident.

As the weeks have continued on, you’ve fallen into a perfect routine during your shared physical therapy sessions. A routine of avoidance, ignorance, and as much space between the two of you as physically possible. It’s become so easy that the two of you navigate it with the kind of grace only two elite figure skaters could ever manage. 

If anything, it’s more awkward for the other members of your session than it is for the two of you. Jungwon, Jake, Niki, and Dr. Kim are the ones suffering as they try to stay friendly with both of you without icing out the other. 

It must be why he doesn’t even bother to check who it is that’s standing right next to him as he reaches for his bag on the shelf near the front door at the end of another session. Must be why he says it in a voice so casual you don’t think it’s him at first. “How pissed do you think Dr. Kim will be if I’m late again next week?”

Even though the voice doesn’t quite fit, you half expect to see Jake standing next to you when you turn to the side. 

Sunghoon realizes his mistake at the exact same second you do. You watch as shock flickers across his features, quickly replaced by something guarded, unreadable. Just as completely closed off to you as always. 

It pisses you off, the way he’s so utterly and completely unaffected by you. The way he can brush you off as easily as a piece of dust. Insignificant. Unimportant. Unwanted. It has you freeing the reins on comments you should bite back instead. 

“Hard to say.” Ice and resentment drip from every syllable. “Then again, I’m surprised you care about what she thinks. Doesn’t seem like something that would bother you.”

That at least earns you some of his emotion. Another bout of shock crosses his face before it shifts to confusion and falls finally to anger. You can see it in the furrow of his brow, the set of his jaw. The flare of heat in his eyes. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

If he falls to anger, you’ll rise above it. At least on the outside. There’s no accounting for the way your gut twists in rage. Still, you offer him a smile that’s almost as fake as it is sickeningly sweet. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out if you spend enough time thinking about it.” It’s patronizing, and intentionally so. You hope it annoys him enough to keep him up tonight. 

Reaching for the front door, you take your exit first. The hallways of this building have become familiar over the weeks. Even with anger clouding your vision and a bad ankle, you trace a steady path to the parking lot. You’re halfway to your car when the sound of your name stops you in your tracks. 

You freeze for a moment, turning the sound of it over in your brain, stuck on the way it almost sounds like a plea, a prayer coming from his lips. The sound of footsteps draws nearer. They fall quickly, as if he’s running. Your indecision still renders you immobile. 

“Hold on a second. Did I… Did I do something to upset you?”

If you thought you were angry before, you’re surely seeing red now. How dare he. 

Spinning around, you only hope you sound as outraged as you feel. “Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?”

“What? No.” His brow furrows. “I mean, I know our schools are technically rivals and all, but we haven’t really seen each other in years.”

“Right, because you’ve been so sunny and welcoming since I joined the group.”

“I was giving you space. You practically bolted like a scared cat when you saw it was me.” He runs a hand through his hair. You hate the way it falls perfectly back into place. And you hate the way he looks so good doing it. “But clearly you’ve got something against me.”

The audacity, the sheer, utter audacity. There’s no trace of humor when you say, “You’re hilarious, really.” And there’s no room for debate when you turn away from him again, continuing to walk towards your car. 

“Wait,” he tries, but it falls on deaf ears. “God, ___, would you just hold on for a second, I—”

You turn. To do what, you’re not entirely sure. But before you can decide, the grip he has on his car keys loosens, the fingers of his right hand less dexterous than usual thanks to his arm brace. He still has his reflexes though. With his other hand, he manages to stop them from falling completely. 

“Better take care of that.” You jerk your chin to where he awkwardly fumbles with his keyring, trying to find a better grip. “Wouldn’t want to drop those too.”

His gaze snaps to you, eyes wide, mouth slightly slackened. The keys fall from his grasp, metal clinking delicately on the pavement. A million questions swim across his features, none of which you’ll give the grace of answering. 

Instead, you turn around once more. You make it all the way to your car, all the way out of the parking lot, all the way home. 

And he never says your name once. 

…

The following Tuesday, you are the last one of the group to arrive. And while you would usually never pass up the opportunity to best Sunghoon at anything, including being the latest arrival, competition is not the reason for your tardiness. 

It’s avoidance. That, and the fact that you had to spend eleven minutes giving yourself a pep talk in the car before you could work up the nerve to approach the front doors of the clinic. In the end, it’s a glance down at the boot on your left foot that does it. You’ve let Sunghoon ruin your chance at a gold medal once, and you’ll be damned if you let him do it again. 

Besides, your last visit with Dr. Min was a good one. Your ankle hasn’t healed quite as much as Dr. Kim suspected, but progress is progress, and you’re making plenty of it, according to your most recent x-rays. 

You enter the session with an apology for Dr. Kim and concentrated efforts to not let your gaze wander to the back corner of the room as you make your way over to where Jake and Jungwon sit. Starting your stretches, you assume Niki is over with Sunghoon, but you can’t work up the nerve to confirm that. 

Despite her initial annoyance at your tardiness, Dr. Kim is equally pleased at your latest x-ray results and gives you the green light to switch out the resistance bands you’ve been using for the next level up. Just as you’re reaching for the set of red bands on the shelf next to the treadmills, a set of obnoxiously smooth hands gets there first. 

Turning to Sunghoon with narrowed eyes, you grab the end of the band set he just snatched out from under you, eyes ablaze. 

The little fucker has the gall to roll his eyes. “What are you doing?”

You yank on the band. He doesn’t even flinch, grip steady. “I’m trying to follow Dr. Kim’s instructions,” you inform, tone flat. 

This time when you yank again, he yanks back. Much to your annoyance, he’s able to exert enough force to have you stumbling forward. “You’re trying to provoke me.”

“And it’s working,” Niki whispers to Jake and Jungwon in the back corner of the room. Dr. Kim just shakes her head. 

“Just take the green bands,” Sunghoon suggests. 

“They don’t have enough resistance. I need these ones,” you argue. “Why don’t you take the green ones?”

“Pretty sure if one of us takes the lighter bands, it should be you.” Sunghoon tightens his grip. “Or are you seriously trying to claim that you’re stronger than me right now?”

“I’m using them for my legs, you absolute jackass. Which are definitely stronger than your forearms.”

Sunghoon cocks a brow. “Should we put money on it?”

“You are such a dick. Dr. Kim literally—”

“Has another set of red bands,” the woman in question interrupts. She levels the two of you with an exasperated look as she holds them out in front of her. “There’s another set of every color on the equipment shelf next to the door.”

“Oh, right,” you nod, pulling back a little on your end of the band before you release it, just to hear the small cry Sunghoon lets out when it snaps against the skin of his good wrist. “Thanks.”

And the satisfaction that comes from completing your usual number of reps with a higher resistance is almost as gratifying as when you see Sunghoon rubbing at the still reddened skin on his left wrist as you pack up to leave for the day. 

“Those two are gonna kill each other,” Jungwon tells Jake and Niki as the three of them walk to their cars, brow creasing in concern. 

“Or something,” Jake agrees. 

Niki hoists his bag up on his shoulder. “My money’s on ___.”

A contemplative look passes between Jake and Jungwon before they nod in unison, “Yeah.”

…

You’re in the middle of passing a medicine ball back and forth with Jake the following week when he asks, “Are your school’s finals next week too?”

And although it’s hard to believe, first semester is already drawing to an end as the days get shorter and assignments get longer. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m up to my ass in essays right now.”

“Same,” Jake agrees. “Sometimes it makes me wonder how I do it when I’m training, too.” Although you agree, a pang of jealousy is the only thing his words inspire. Of the skaters on your team that are preparing to compete as you speak. That have already choreographed their routines and selected their music and are spending every waking moment perfecting each and every detail of their program. 

It’s hard. It’s brutal. You’d be the first to admit that. But you miss it all the same, so much it hurts. 

A moment passes before he continues. “Well, anyway, Jungwon, Niki, and I were thinking that since none of us are training right now, we should celebrate the end of the semester like everyone else does.”

You arch a brow. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

“Right, sorry,” he apologizes. “Consider this your formal invitation to get absolutely shitfaced with us next Friday.”

The laugh that bubbles in your throat is so unexpected you can’t quite bite it back. While you have your fair share of good, old-fashioned fun, he’s right. Every other semester, you’ve celebrated the end of finals season with a cup of hot tea and an early night in bed. Traded one source of stress for another as you woke up bright and early the next day to hit the ice. 

You send him a smile, tossing the medicine ball back in his direction. “Count me in.”

…

The following Friday night finds you double-checking the address on your phone before tentatively knocking on the front door of what you hope is Jake’s apartment. In the middle of the university district across the city from your own, you can’t say you’re familiar with any of the buildings outside of the athletic complex, which you’ve only ever visited for a handful of competitions. It strikes you then that this is also the university Sunghoon attends. And, stomach dropping, that you never actually asked who all would be attending tonight.

Before you have the chance to spin on your heel and high-tail it down the stairs you just climbed, the door swings open. It’s not Jake. 

“Oh,” you mumble. The boy who opened the door is not Jake, but he is very much attractive. “Sorry. I’m looking for Jake Sim’s apartment.” Your voice turns up at the end like a question. 

“You’re in the right place,” he smiles, and it’s gorgeous. “I’m Heeseung, Jake’s roommate. You must be ___.” He opens the door wider, allowing you space. “Come on in.”

“That’s me.” You offer him a grateful smile as you enter, hanging your coat and sliding your shoes off. 

The interior is surprisingly sophisticated, for a college boy’s apartment. It’s clean, for starters, and as you follow Heeseung down the hallway towards the kitchen, you can’t help but be impressed by their choice in decor. 

“Help yourself to anything.” Heeseung gestures to the impressive spread of snacks on the table. “But first, can I get you something to drink?”

“Um…” Your lack of alcohol-related knowledge is apparent, and the uncertainty must be obvious, because Heeseung just smiles again. 

“I’ve got you.” There’s an undertone of something in his words. Something playful, something bordering on flirty. But it’s too subtle to tell for sure, and you’re not one to bet on losing odds. He reaches for a glass and a handful of ice cubes. “Do you like fruity flavors?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “That sounds good.” Besides, it’s been a minute since you’ve been well and truly flirted with at a college party by a boy that looks like he could spell trouble in his sleep. This could be fun, you think.  

Glancing towards the adjacent living room, you notice the usual familiar faces. Jake and Niki are sitting on the couch while Jungwon chats with a pair of boys you don’t recognize. Eyes tracing the perimeter, you feel your shoulders tense when they land on a familiar silhouette. Sunghoon has his back to you, but his identity is just as unmistakable as it was on your first day of physical therapy. Like Jungwon, he’s talking to another person you don’t know. 

Oh, well. It’s too late to back out now and too early to make an exit. If you and Sunghoon can coexist in a room once a week without starting too many fires, you’re sure you’ll manage to get through tonight just fine. 

Heeseung hands you a full glass. It’s cold where it meets your fingertips. 

“Should we join them?” He inclines his head toward the living room and you nod. 

Following in his footsteps, you wave a quick greeting to Jake before taking a seat next to Heeseung, enough space between you and Sunghoon for you to relax slightly.

“How do you and Jake know each other?” You ask, searching for something to fill the silence, to keep the conversation flowing. “Do you play soccer together?”

Heeseung shakes his head. “No, we’ve been friends since elementary school. But I am on the basketball team, which helps. I feel like student athletes just kind of get each other, you know?”

You do know, and you tell him as much. The crazy schedule, the unwavering commitment. It’s much easier to explain to someone that’s living through the exact same thing. 

“Speaking of which, you’re a figure skater, right? For the university across town.”

You arch a brow. “I’m surprised Jake told you so much about you.”

“Not nearly enough,” he flirts, and this time it’s blatant. 

You take another sip of your drink with upturned lips, weighing a response on your tongue. Before you can decide how many cards you’d like to show, you make eye contact across the room with the one person you were hoping to avoid. 

Sunghoon looks equally—scratch that—even more displeased to see you. Jawline so taught you could cut your finger on it and lips drawn in a straight line, he’s pissed where he locks eyes with you from his seat. Sunghoon is the one to avert his eyes first. Throwing back whatever’s in his cup, he slices through the moment of tension with a knife. 

If Heeseung notices the way your breath splutters, he doesn’t comment. Thankfully, Jungwon chooses the next moment to say his hellos and introduce you to the boys you hadn’t recognized earlier. 

“Sunoo,” he nods towards the boy he’d been sitting with earlier, who offers a friendly greeting. “And that’s Jay, over by Sunghoon. And you’ve already met Heeseung.”

“And you all go to school here?”

“Yeah,” Jungwon nods. “Jay and I live together, and Sunoo is Niki’s roommate.”

“You’re deep in enemy territory,” Heeseung elbows you lightly, teasing. “What are we gonna do with you?”

You lift your now empty glass towards him, grinning. “Get me another drink, hopefully.”

Sending you a wink, he takes the glass from your outstretched hand before standing from the couch. “On it.” You watch his back retreat into the kitchen, oblivious of the second one that follows it a handful of moments later. 

Jay, as it turns out, is not an athlete, but does play guitar for a local  band your friend has been raving to you about for ages. He’s already promising you two sets of complimentary tickets to every one of their upcoming shows by the time you realize Heeseung’s been gone for a while. Too long. 

Excusing yourself, you head toward the kitchen. And it’s just your luck that you find the person you’ve spent the evening avoiding, instead of the one you’re searching for. Even with the buzz of your first drink fading rapidly, your inhibitions are feeling low. 

Sunghoon barely has the chance to register your presence before you’re laying out accusations. 

“I know you don’t like me, but do you really have to spend the whole night glaring at me like that? In front of everyone?”

Sunghoon’s shoulders tense, a confirmation that he hears you, but he says nothing. Instead, he just swallows the remainder of his drink in one large gulp. His eyes are still flaring, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you did something to piss him off. 

But it’s just like him, to avoid conversations he doesn’t want to have with the end of another drink. To treat you like someone not even worthy of a response. You don’t know why you expected anything different. Scoffing, you notice the full drink sitting on the counter. Heeseung must have had the chance to refill it before disappearing. 

You move to step around Sunghoon and reach for it when he finally says, “I’m not glaring at you.”

The gaze you level him with is incredulous. “Do you think I’m stupid? I have eyes—”

“For all I know you are stupid!” Sunghoon sighs, drags an open palm down the length of his face. “I mean, are you really gonna let some guy you just met pour your drinks all night?”

“Heeseung?” You’re confused why all of his rage seems to be directed towards something so insignificant. “He’s Jake’s roommate”

“And a complete stranger to you.”

It’s infuriating, the way he assumes his opinion should hold any weight in your life. The way he thinks he has any say in your decisions. “So should I avoid all the food now too?” You’re being petty now for the sake of it. “I mean, since you’ve been in here unsupervised for quite a while now.” You take another step towards your drink and he moves, blocking your path with his body. 

When you look up, you find his eyes already trained on you, and there’s no ice in them now. Just pure, unadulterated heat. Fire. Flames that lick the base of your spine. “You’re so fucking agitating, you know that?”

“I’m agitating?” You take another step forward, hoping the proximity will force him away. It doesn’t. If anything, he leans into it. Into you. 

You reach for the drink again. This time, he stops you himself. Fingers of his unrestricted hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Yeah.” His words are low, voice a caress even as it drips venom. You feel his breath ghost across your cheekbone. “Real fucking agitating.”

Your eyes are still locked on his, and you search them for a hint of something coherent, something that makes sense. Every bone in your body drawn taught, it’s as if muscle memory reverts you to the last moment you were like this, the last moment he held you this close, body entwined with his own in a familiar embrace. Your wrist slackens in his grasp. 

Last time, he dropped you. Sent you scattering across ice until the only thing you could taste was the bitterness of defeat and the sharp sting of humiliation. 

Last time, he let you fall. 

You have no idea what he’ll do now. 

In the end, it’s the sound of approaching footsteps that has the two of you springing apart, your wrist falling from his grip. In the scramble, you remember your original target. 

Despite the long melted ice, this drink feels even cooler in your grip, a stark contrast to the simmering heat just beneath your skin. 

When Heeseung enters, he’s tucking his phone into his pocket with an apologetic look. “Sorry, I had to take a call. My brother gets chatty at the worst times.” Nodding to your hand, he smiles, “You found your drink.” 

“Yeah, I did.” You take a step closer to the living room, closer to Heeseung. Further from Sunghoon. 

Glancing between the two of you, there’s a hint of uncertainty when Heeseung asks if you want to rejoin the others in the living room. 

You put his worries to ease and your questions to rest when you agree easily, not even bothering to give Sunghoon a second thought. 

You do seek his gaze one last time, though, before you follow Heeseung back to the party. Looking directly at him, you raise your glass in a mock toast. Without breaking eye contact, you bring the cup to your lips, swallowing half the drink in one long sip. When you do finally turn away, it’s to find the empty seat next to Heeseung. 

The rest of the evening passes in a pleasant blur, trading stories and laughs with the people around you while Heeseung keeps the seat at your side warm. Sunghoon does you the favor of disappearing from sight after your stand off in the kitchen.

It’s easy to relax into the company of everyone else, so much so that you don’t see Sunoo until you’re running right into him, the contents of his cup saturating the front of your shirt. 

It’s a problem Heeseung is quick to solve, and the gray hoodie he offers you is cozier than any of your own with a scent that’s almost addicting. 

He’s sweet, you think. Sweet and charming and forward in all of the right ways. It’s solidified when he offers to join you on the porch when you tell him you’re stepping outside for some fresh air. It’s cemented when he accepts your refusal with nothing but a smile and the request that you “come back quick.”

Stepping outside, it takes you a moment to realize that you’re not alone. It would appear that your earlier assumption that Sunghoon must have gone back to his place was wrong. There’s no drink in his hand, but the way he sways with the gentle midnight breeze makes you think he’s still working through everything he downed earlier. 

Silently, you glance up at the cloudless night sky, at the way the stars seem to wrap around you. Gaze returning to Sunghoon’s back, you suppose the simplest course of action would be to leave before he realizes you’re here. You turn to do just that, to make good on your promise to Heesung, when the sound of your name stops you in your tracks. 

Or at least, you think that’s what he says. It’s hard to tell, with the way his syllables and sounds slur together. Turning back towards him, you find him already looking at you. He repeats your name, and this time around, it’s a bit clearer. 

His eyes trace a downward line from your face to your change in clothes. Something in his face crumples, withers. 

“‘M sorry,” he slurs, words not lining up quite right through the inebriation. 

“What?”

“That day.” The sudden onset of sincerity in his tone makes him seem more sober than he is. “I should have caught you.”

The stars in the sky suddenly don’t seem so far away. You must have heard him wrong. A crease forms between your eyebrows, eyes scanning over his features. They’re laid open in their honesty, no trace of deception. 

“I wanted to catch you. I tried to.” He sighs. “Was my fault.”

“I…” You search for words, for the vindication you’d always imagined you’d feel at his admission. In its absence, you find only confusion and an odd pang of regret. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. 

“Sorry for what? Why are you bringing that up?”

He just shakes his head, eyes falling to his feet. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again. Like a broken record. His pain is wrapped up in there too, trapped in a loop time has never quite let it escape. 

When you return to the party, it’s with a jumbled excuse of needing to check on a pet cat you don’t have. 

In the haste of it all, you forget to so much as exchange numbers with Heeseung. But you do find the time to pull Jake aside on your way out the door, to make sure that he helps Sunghoon get home safe. 

…

The next morning greets you with a pounding headache and an unfamiliar hoodie draped over the back of your desk chair. It takes a moment of searching through hazy memories before recollection of that particular string of events finds you. 

With a sigh, you head out in search of water and Advil, sending Jake a quick message that you’ll stop by his apartment later to return Heeseung’s hoodie. 

Even a handful of hours later, you can’t decide if you hope Heeseung is home or not. It’s a Saturday afternoon after a long night, so you figure the odds are high. But you still can’t pinpoint whether that feeling in your gut is excitement or dread. 

In an effort to delay the inevitable, you take a detour before visiting Jake’s apartment again. Your rival university’s sports complex is just as nice as you remember it, large, pristine buildings that hold everything an athletics department could dream of. Fondly, you remember the first time you skated in this stadium, back in middle school. It had felt so big, then, so special, to be skating for such a large crowd. 

It felt even more special to be sharing the ice with someone who put dreams in your head and butterflies in your stomach. Still fairly new to pair skating, the two of you had put on a program with a less than favorable amount of deduction. 

But still. It was yours. It was special. It was shared. 

You wonder if he knew then, that one day he would be the reigning king of this very same rink. 

Probably, you think. Park Sunghoon never had the habit of letting things feel impossible. 

Looking down at the boot on your foot, you miss it, all of it, all at once. The late nights. The early mornings. The bruises and cuts and aching muscles. The determination after defeat. The elation after glory. The feeling of flying every time blade touches ice. 

The sign posted next to the stadium is an advertisement, a reminder, of the upcoming regional championships. There’s a pang of loss, a moment of grief, for your program that will have to wait for next year. 

But your x-rays are coming back better every time, and Dr. Kim is sure you’ll be back on the ice by the time spring comes. 

For the first time in a long time, you think it’ll be okay. You know you’ll be okay.  

In front of you, the stadium door opens, and you realize you’re standing right in front of the exit. 

“Sorry,” you mutter, quickly moving to get out of the way, but then you take a closer look. “Coach Kang?” you ask, just as she says your name with the same air of disbelief. 

It’s an odd feeling of synchronicity, to stumble into your childhood skating coach just as you’re reminiscing on the past. 

“It’s been so long,” she beams, pulling you in for a warm hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Just visiting a friend. What about you?”

“Coaches’ meeting,” she explains. “Trying to see if I can get some of my junior skaters in to watch a few practices before regionals.” Nudging you with her shoulder, she adds, “speaking of which, how’s your program coming along? Are you getting excited?”

You shake your head. “I’m actually off the ice for this one.” Glancing down, you lift your booted foot in explanation. “Ankle fracture has me out for the rest of the season.”

“Oh, no.” Coach Kang places a consolatory hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry. That has to be so hard.”

“It’s okay, actually.” You don’t know who’s more surprised, her at your admission, or you at the fact that you actually mean it. “Everything is healing up nicely, so I’m looking forward to an even better program next year.” 

“Well look at you, all grown up.” She smiles. “I can say that thirteen-year-old you would not have had such a good attitude about it. Honestly, I’m surprised a fracture was enough to stop you. You were always so stubborn about things. You and Sunghoon.” She lets out a short laugh as your shoulders tense at the mention of him. “I was just thinking about you two the other day, actually. We had a skater fracture his tailbone and argue until he was blue in the face that he still wanted to compete.” Shaking her head, she adds, “It reminded me of that time Sunghoon insisted on skating even though he’d just sprained his wrist.” She shakes her head again, releases a small laugh. “Never could keep you two off the ice.”

It all checks out, the stubbornness, the determination even when it was stupid. But you’re hung up on one detail. You’re sure you could list every one of Sunghoon’s skating injuries just as thoroughly as he could. But before the current one, you can’t recall any wrist injuries. “What? When did he sprain his wrist?” 

Coach Kang waves her hand flippantly, like the sinking feeling in your gut isn’t intensifying with every passing moment, like she isn’t about to confirm a realization you’re already dreading. “Oh, you remember. It was just a few days before nationals that one year.”

That one year. She skirts around it, for your sake probably. But you know exactly what she means, when she’s referring to. 

And suddenly, you’re falling through air again, plummeting towards ice as a hand makes a desperate attempt to catch you. As sheer will alone is no match for injury weakened bones and ligaments and muscles. As you’re sliding across frozen ground and he’s gripping his wrist with pain on his face and terror in his eyes. 

As your head spins, spots clouding your vision from the force of the impact. Before the world goes black, your eyes search for him. 

And in those last few moments of consciousness, you watch as his mouth moves to form words you can’t hear. 

“I’m sorry.”

…

Raising your fist, you pound at the door again. One, two, three times. At this rate, your knuckles will be bloody before you get a response. 

But before you can start your assault on the wood in front of you again, the door swings open slowly, revealing a familiar frame. 

“You absolute idiot.”

“Well hello to you too.” Rubbing at his eyes, you appear to have just woken him from a nap. If his head is feeling anything like yours was this morning, you almost feel sorry. 

But there are more pressing matters at hand. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“That I’m an idiot? Probably not.”

“That you sprained your wrist three days before nationals? That you skated anyway? That you attempted to catch a person quite literally spinning through the air with a wrist injury?”

A beat of silence passes. 

And then another. 

Sunghoon suddenly looks wide awake. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. What the hell were you thinking?” There’s fire in your eyes, an anger that’s directed towards him but not in the ways he’s used to. 

He pauses for a moment, eyes searching your features for another beat. Finally, he sighs. “Would you have let me skate if I did?”

It’s not the answer you expect. And it’s just like him, to answer a question with one of his own. “I… what?”

“You heard me.” His eyes don’t leave yours. “Would you have let me get on the ice if you knew I was hurt?”

And what is it, him and his habit of asking ridiculous questions like they don’t have obvious answers. “What kind of question is that? Of course not. No one in their right mind would have let you do that program with a wrist sprain, much less your partner. And I love Coach Kang, but I’m about to file a negligence suit against her, because what the hell kind of—”

“Stop talking.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry,” he grimaces, and you’re still getting used to the way apologies sound on his lips. “That came out wrong. What I was trying to say was that you… Well, I… I mean…” He trails off for the third time, casts a tentative look at the way your eyebrows only raise higher and higher every time he stops a train of thought in its tracks. His gaze falls down, somewhere between your nose and chin. An exhale passes through parted lips. Something in his resolve slips. “Oh, fuck it.”

And then he’s kissing you. 

Lips against lips and hands in your hair. It’s messy and awkward, and you can’t quite get the timing right. 

Sunghoon pulls back a fraction of an inch, catching his breath and letting you do the same. 

“What are you doing?”

There’s heat in his eyes and fondness too, a soft sort of expression that only melts further every time he looks at you. But now there’s anxiety in the mix, a crippling fear that he’s misjudged everything entirely, done something horribly wrong. 

“I’m sorry.” Before today, you could count his apologies on one hand. Now, you’re running out of fingers. “Did you not want—”

This time, it’s you that pulls him down, hands lacing around the nape of his neck, exhaling a soft sigh against parted lips that sends his mind spinning. 

And it’s only the second time, but it’s already better. Already a natural rhythm that the two of you seem to fall into with a little more grace. 

The expanse of his door is cold against your back when Sunghoon pulls you into his apartment with his good hand, and he’s a quick study. Attempt number three is an even greater improvement as hands search for new skin to discover and things start to fall into place, one at a time. 

Reaching for Heeseung’s forgotten hoodie, Sunghoon breaks the kiss only to toss it somewhere outside your current plane of existence. In this moment, you exist only within the space the two of you occupy, everything else an afterthought. 

And you have the feeling attempt number four will be your best yet. 

…

epilogue

“Are you ever gonna join me or do I just have to stay out here looking stupid forever?”

You don’t even take a moment to consider. “The second one.”

“Come on,” Sunghoon pleads, skating back towards you where you remain planted firmly to the bench on the perimeter of the rink. He moves towards you with a grace that used to inspire a raging, stomping green monster of envy. Now, you just admire the way he cuts across the ice with the agility of a dancer. “It’s fun out here, I promise.”

Avoiding his gaze, you let your eyes fall to your feet instead. They’re already laced up in your favorite pair of skates, black boot all but forgotten since you had it removed at your last visit to Dr. Min’s office. Since he gave you the green light to return to the thing you love most. 

You had been ecstatic then. Brimming with so much extra energy Sunghoon had to physically intervene to prevent you from accidentally knocking over an elderly lady on your way out of the hospital. But now, with the opportunity you’ve been dreaming of for long, hard months at your fingertips, something in you hesitates. 

Sunghoon says your name, and suddenly he’s serious. “This is all you’ve been talking about for months.” Sliding down onto his knees in front of you, you’re suddenly at eye level. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He casts a doubtful glance. “Really, I just…” It’s hard, to speak your fears into existence, to let them take flight. Even if the boy in front of you makes it a little easier. “What if it’s not what I imagined?”

It’s a million little worries wrapped up in one. What if your ankle isn’t the same? What if it’s never the same? What if you’re not as good as you were? What if you’re not good enough? 

Sunghoon hears them all, and puts them to rest with a smile, a gentle touch as he rests his forehead against yours. “You and that big brain. Always worrying about the wrong things.”

“Hey! I—”

“It won’t be what you imagined.” He draws back a few inches, and your eyes have nowhere to land but on his own. “It will be different. It will feel weird, and your legs will feel wobbly, your muscles will feel weak, and your ankle might give out.”

Your lips flatten into a thin line. “If you’re trying to make me feel better, you’re doing a terrible job.”

Sunghoon just pinches your cheeks together, forcing your lips to purse. “So you’ll show up. Over and over again. Every day until your skates start to feel like a second pair of feet and the ice starts to feel like home again. Until your ankle and your muscles and your stamina are all built back up, in a way that’s different from before but will feel familiar before you know it.” He presses a single, delicate kiss to the tip of your nose. “Until I’m dragging you off the ice instead of onto it, because your boyfriend needs attention and is feeling a little jealous of all the time you’re spending here instead of with him.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re so needy. It’s gross.”

Sunghoon only smiles. “Only for you.”

This time, when he gets back on his feet and extends a hand, you take it. You follow him onto the ice and headfirst towards your insecurities feeling a little bit like a newborn deer, a bike without its training wheels. 

He laughs when you stumble and brushes hair out of your face when you pout. 

After an hour, you’re already feeling more solid than before. After two, that feeling of flying is starting to return. 

It’s somewhere just before hour three when Sunghoon says, “Remember how I told you earlier that you’re worrying about the wrong things?”

“Yeah.” You drag the word out slowly, not liking the hint of deviousness in his sudden grin. 

“This is what I was talking about. Instead of worrying about getting back on the ice, you should be worrying about how long it will take you to be able to beat me on a lap around the rink.”

“You absolute asshole. I fractured my ankle!”

Already halfway around the rink, Sunghoon just laughs. 

…

outtake—five years ago. 

Sunghoon’s vision is blurry. It’s a terrible combination of things—the exhilaration of the spotlight, the pain in his wrist, the grief of an egregious error. The sudden onset of tears that sting in the corners of his eyes and fall without his permission. 

Despite all of it, he finds his way back to his dressing room. Choking back a sob, he reaches for the glass of water he’d left out earlier. It tastes acidic on his tongue, burns like regret on the way down. 

Stupid, he was so stupid. His hands tangle in his hair. He wants to pull it out. Wants to scream until his throat is raw and he can’t anymore. 

It was a terrible enough decision to gamble his own fate on an unhealed injury, but as the reality of the situation comes crashing down around him, he realizes he’s done something much worse. 

Eyes open, eyes closed. It doesn’t matter. All he can see is you, sprawled out on ice, limbs bent unnaturally, eyes dazed at the impact. 

The unexpected impact. Because you trusted him. You trusted him so much that of course you’d never considered what you would do if his hands failed, if his wrist gave out. If he decided to risk your program, your fate, you, all on a whim, on an inflated sense of self-importance and a lack of regard for the injury he was so certain he could power through. 

He couldn’t imagine it, three days ago. Telling you that he was injured, that he couldn’t skate the program. He couldn’t imagine watching as the features he bashfully considered so, painfully pretty twisted into disappointment. Into anger. 

So he turned his shame into resolve, into determination. One that allowed him to catch you with a fractured wrist in every practice run, every time, except for the time that mattered. Biting back grimaces and cries of pain all for the fool’s hope of seeing you smile in a few days’ time, a gold medal around your neck. 

Instead, he got to see you spinning through the air, slipping through his fingers, landing with a sickening thud. He wants to ask what hospital they took you to, wants to ignore the pain in his wrist a little longer and run there himself, just to make sure that you’re okay.

But then he imagines the way you’ll look at him when you see him. The way all that disappointment and anger he’d wanted to avoid so desperately will surely be all you have to offer him. 

He understands. He does. He wouldn’t want to see him either. 

Turning away from the mirror, he tucks away his shame for the future. But that only leaves his gaze landing on the bouquet of flowers sitting on the table. The one he’d spent nearly an hour agonizing over, the one his mother had assured him a dozen times you would love. The one he made sure had all of your favorite colors. 

He snuck his own favorite in there too, in hopes of what exactly he can’t be sure, but he knows he likes the way they look together—your favorite color and the deep blue irises that represent his own. 

It seems to stupid now. After everything, after this, he can’t imagine you want his flowers, and even less his favorite color. He can’t imagine that you want anything to do with him. 

So he doesn’t seek you out. Not in the hospital that day, not when you’re cleared to practice and back on the ice again, not when chance has the two of you colliding five years later. 

Not until he watches you walk away from him with all that anger and resentment and disappointment he’s been so avoiding for so long. Not until it strikes him in the face and he realizes that he can’t live with it, can’t let bygones be bygones and hope time and the absence of him in your life have healed you for the better when it still hurts to even look at you. 

On a dressing room table, five years in the past, a bouquet of flowers wilts. 

And Sunghoon learns that with love and patience and a little bit of sunlight, beautiful things, even the fragile ones, bloom when you water them.

.....

note: thank you for reading! as always, comments, reblogs, and asks are very much appreciated :D

[katsu28]

maiden wins & secret meet-ups

pairing: oscar piastri x verstappen!reader

summary: cons of being in a secret relationship—oscar wins his first race, and you can't celebrate with him outright like you want to. (1.9k)

warnings: secret relationship, max’s younger sister but no descriptors of reader so imagine whomever you want!

a/n: oscar piastri grand prix winner sounds like music to my ears <3 better decisions definitely could've been made on mclaren’s end, but still over the moon for oscar!!! 

You have mixed feelings as Oscar zooms past the checkered flag. 

Your brother is pissed. Max has been furious the entire race, at the car’s capabilities, at the team’s strategies, and more than likely at himself too. He’s hard on himself, but that’s the way you have to be to maintain a razor sharp edge like the one Max has.

You’re a little upset too, what with sibling solidarity and all, but you really have to fight the truly massive smile threatening to overtake your face as you watch the broadcast from Red Bull hospitality. 

It’s not everyday the guy you’ve been secretly seeing for the past five months—your boyfriend, as much as it still feels weird to say that—gets his maiden Formula One win. He’s worked hard, as everyone involved with all the teams has, but you’re biased.

Oscar’s win, although marked with some not so great strategy calls on McLaren’s end, even you could tell, is one for the books. 

You’re buzzing with barely contained excitement, even hours later, itching to find Oscar and pull him aside so you can give him the love he deserves for everything that happened today. 

It seems like Oscar’s thinking of you too, because your phone chimes with a text right then. 

Oscar: Hey, what’re you doing right now? 

You bite your lip to hide the giddy reaction you still get whenever Oscar texts you as you tap out a reply. Nothing. What’s up? 

Oscar: Behind the RB hub. Can you sneak out? 

You: Be right there <3

You look up, glancing around to see if anyone who’d go running straight to Max was around, and gladly coming up empty. You’re glad for it, because you’re not sure you could’ve stopped yourself from hightailing it towards the back exit of the motorhome even if you wanted to. You haven’t seen Oscar after the race yet. There hasn’t been a good time to sneak out and find him. 

Oscar’s pacing back and forth when you emerge, stopping only when he hears the soft click of the door closing behind you. For a moment, all you can do is stare at each other, unmoving.

You can’t help but look him up and down too, because you’re definitely not immune to how sexy your man looks post race.

Race suit tied off around his waist, showing off those snug black fireproofs that cling to his chest and arms just right, messy hair tucked into that special black OP1 cap—you’re not ashamed of your ogling. 

Then he smiles adorably, and now you’re grinning like a maniac too, letting out a gleeful, albeit quiet giggle as you close the gap and throw yourself into his arms. 

He catches you easily, arms winding around your waist as he hugs you tightly. You’ve got your cheek squished against the hard plane of his shoulder, and the zipper of his suit digs into your hip sharply, but you’re so happy for him, so happy that it doesn’t even matter. 

“I’m so proud of you, Osc,” You sigh contentedly. “I narrowly avoided cheering at the top of my lungs in the middle of the hub. Would not have been a good look for me, would it?” 

“Probably not, no,” Oscar laughs, setting you back down on your feet. His arms stay in their place around you, as do yours where they’re looped around his neck.

You take him in fully now, flicking the bill of his new cap playfully. “Nice hat.” 

“You think so?” You nod wholeheartedly and he swipes it off his head, blowing the previously champagne soaked confetti off of it before securing it on your head. It’s a bit sticky and even more sweaty, but the gesture itself makes you beam. Then he leans in to sniff it and makes a weird face. “Yeah, maybe I’ll just get you a new one.” 

“That'd be great, actually. I want you to keep this one to remember your first win—champagne, sweat, and all. But I’ll keep it as collateral until you cough up the clean one.” 

“Deal,” He replies, smiling fondly at you. “D’you have any dinner plans? If not, maybe we can order in, or find a nice restaurant?” 

“A nice restaurant?” You tease, walking your fingers up the sleeves of his fireproof. Muscles pull taut under your fingertips like cords as Oscar shivers at your touch. You’re grinning like the cat that’s got the cream now, always enjoying the reaction you can get out of him every single time, no matter where you are. “Are we celebrating something, or…?” 

Oscar shrugs nonchalantly. “We don’t have to. It could just be a casual dinner, if you want.” 

“Oscar Piastri, you need to learn to be more selfish. Of course we’re celebrating your first win,” You huff, smacking him on the chest lightly. His lips quirk up into a smile again. “You did amazing. Seriously. McLaren is beyond lucky to have you on the track for them.” 

“Thank you,” He murmurs, squeezing your hip tenderly. “It means a lot coming from you.”

You lean in to kiss him, finally, but then—

“Your—erm, your back pocket is buzzing,” Oscar says awkwardly, chin up as he averts his eyes to the sky. You groan, letting your forehead fall against his chest, fishing the offending device out of your pocket again to see your brother’s face filling the screen. 

Max is calling you. You love him to bits, but he always has the absolute worst timing. 

“Hi, Maxie. What’s up?” 

“Where are you?” He demands. 

“I’m great, thanks for asking. Yes, I did enjoy watching you race, thanks for asking,” You encourage, leaning back to shoot Oscar a look as if to say, can you believe this guy? 

“Right, yeah. Sorry. I appreciate you making the trip out to watch. Better?” 

“Much better.” 

“Good. So where are you?” 

“Uh…just getting some air, why?” 

“Outside?” 

“No, in your stinky driver’s room. Yes, I’m outside. Again, why?” You roll your eyes at Oscar, who merely chuckles silently. Max sighs loudly. Dramatically. “Are you alright, Max?” 

“Yeah, fine, fine. Are you free for dinner tonight before you fly back to London in the morning?” He sounds uncharacteristically hopeful, but still a little stiff, like he’s still pissed. He probably is still pissed. 

How are you supposed to tell Max you already have dinner plans with someone else when he knows for a fact you’re not close enough with anyone else in the paddock to get dinner with them, without letting him know who it is? 

The answer is you can’t. 

You look at Oscar hopelessly. 

It’s fine, he mouths, shaking his head. You get the message. He wants you to be there for your brother, even if it means missing out on spending some much overdue time with you. 

“Yes, of course. Anything for my darling big brother,” You say airily. You’ve always loved to push Max’s buttons. 

“You’re not funny, you know that?” Max deadpans. You can almost picture the flat look he’d be giving you if you were in front of him. But then he sounds a little happier when he adds, “I’m almost to the paddock. I’ll meet you outside the team hub as soon as I can.” 

Knowing Max, ‘as soon as I can’ gives you about five minutes to gather yourself. “Okay. I’ll see you soon then. Love you.” Max parrots the same back to you before hanging up. You look back up at your boyfriend, lips pressing into an apologetic smile. “I’m really sorry, Osc. He—you know how Max gets after a frustrating race, I—” 

“It’s alright. Really.” Oscar shakes his head, shrugging. “Family first. He needs you right now, I get it.” 

“We’ll celebrate your win with dinner as soon as we both get back to London, alright? I promise. Maybe I’ll even cook for you.” 

His eyebrows nearly fly into his hairline at that, and he tilts his head, letting out a thoughtful noise. “Maybe I should win more often if it means I get a home cooked meal for it.” 

“Maybe you should. Winning looks good on you anyways.” 

“Does it? I’m still trying to wrap my head around it, believe me. Feels good though, even if it wasn’t exactly smooth sailing.” 

“You did great,” You say firmly, punctuating the fact with a sharp nod. “Own it.”

Oscar blinks a few times, as if he’s digesting the compliment. “Thank you.” 

“Alright, you need to go before Max gets here, because he’ll probably try to fight you if he sees us together.” 

“Your brother likes me.” 

“We’ll talk about why that may or may not be true another time. For now, go.” You give his chest what’s meant to be one last tap before you go. 

Oscar, however, has a different idea. He grabs your hand as you move to pull away, tugging you back towards him and pressing his lips against yours, firm enough to knock the wind out of you, but not hard enough to bruise. 

You’re fully aware that you’re technically in public, where anyone could turn the corner to see the two of you wrapped up in your own little world together. Specifically, any Red Bull employee that would definitely rat you out to Max. It doesn’t really matter to you though, because all that’s running through your mind right now is Oscar, Oscar, Oscar—

He pulls back too soon for your liking, dotting a quick kiss to your cheek before stepping back. “Alright, I’ll be off then.” 

“Real funny, Piastri!” You call after him. He just shoots you a haphazard thumbs up behind his head, though you suspect if he turned around he’d be grinning like a little shit. 

“Don’t forget to hide that hat!” is all he says in response, and then he’s out of sight. 

You slip back into the motorhome through the door you came through, hiding Oscar’s hat until you get to where you’ve stored your bag and stuffing it in as best you can, before hurrying out to wait for Max out front. 

He materializes by your side only seconds after you’ve managed to make yourself a little more put together, startling you with his blunt words. 

“Why do you look like that?” He asks, squinting at you in confusion. 

“Wow, thanks. You look absolutely stunning today too.” You roll your eyes at him, to which he just raises a judgy brow. “Why do I look like what?”

“Like you’ve just been hit over the head with a frying pan.” 

At that moment, a flash of papaya catches your eye from over his shoulder—Oscar, walking off back towards the McLaren hub like he hadn’t just kissed the daylights out of you behind his competitor’s temporary sanctuary. If you look dazed, it’s all because of him. But you can’t exactly tell Max that. 

“Oh, um, I dunno. Just tired, maybe. Long day. Intense race.” 

Max blows out a sigh, slinging an arm around your shoulders and leaning on you heavily. “Tell me about it.”

You pat him on the back sympathetically. “Sorry for the way it turned out, Maxie. You’ll get the win next time.” 

“Yeah I know. But Oscar—he’s not that bad, as far as drivers go. What do you think?” 

What do you think of Oscar? 

You think he’s one of the best things to ever come into your life. You think he’s got the potential of becoming a World Champion one day. You think he’s truly something special, both as a driver, and to you. 

Instead, you shrug. “He’s pretty good. Don’t really know him all that well, but he seems like a solid guy.” 

You want Oscar to be your little secret for just a little longer, even if it means telling your brother a tiny white lie.

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[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ NEED TO LISTEN TO ME — price is disappointed in you and your other three lovers, and finds that some 'training' is in order

read on ao3.

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, poly tf141, ANGRY sex, mean dom price, angst, degradation, minor dom/sub, light humiliation, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, minor spit play, minor blood play (not really), rough sex, price orders EVERYONE around, price-centred, whiny johnny and gaz agenda

// NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT //

You weren't scared of many things at this point in your life.

Being a signal officer for the military certainly aided that statement, but it was more the fact that you had four guard dogs in the form of the most seasoned special forces operatives you've ever known. Four very large, very scary men that you'd somehow found yourself lucky enough to get to call your partners.

Both on, and off, the field.

That being said, there was one thing you were terrified of. Like, to your bones, petrified.

And that thing had a name.

John Price.

He was formally the captain of your force for a reason, but he was also informally the captain of your relationship, as well. The one you all looked to in the most difficult of moments, the one that held reason and guidance above all.

It's been that way since the five of you met, and remains the same to this day.

Nonetheless.

It was a known fact between you, Soap, Ghost and Gaz that none of you liked seeing the man mad. You four could count on one hand the amount of times you'd witnessed it, all of which having been directed at either his superiors or an enemy.

But. Right now, in this office, seated on the small couch between your three lovers?

Yeah. You don't fear many things.

But John Price's disappointment is quite easily in your top three, and this situation only cements it.

"He's probably ordering our caskets," Gaz murmurs wistfully, eyes wide as he stares at his foot, tap-tap-tapping against the wooden floor. It's a nervous tic that gives him away too easily, but even with your hand on his knee, it doesn't seem able to quit.

You exhale a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut. "I hope he gets me a cute one," you mumble back, tone matching the resignation that clouds your captain's office.

"You four. My office."

Those were the only words Price had spoken to you guys, before marching off to a meeting with Laswell.

To say that you and your lovers were mortified was the biggest understatement of the century.

Even Ghost, sat perfectly still, expression perfectly neutral beneath his mask, oozes trepidation like it's the carbon dioxide he exudes with every breath.

"I know 'm 'n tha military, but I still don't wanna die, ya know?" Soap whines, his head flung back and blue eyes glued to the roof as his hands shake in his lap.

You guys must look like unruly students sat outside of your principal's office to any onlookers, and it should be embarrassing.

It would be, if you could feel anything but mortal peril.

You're about to quip a reply to Soap, when the door clicks open, and the three of you sit ramrod straight, Ghost not moving from his already perfect posture.

Price steps in, the door shutting closed behind him.

The silence is a tangible force, and your mouth is so dry, you'd think you were in a desert, not in your lover's office.

His footfalls echo around the modest space, before he leans against his wooden desk, folding his arms over his chest, before directing his furious gaze to you four.

"When I give orders," he starts, and oh god, his tone, it's so unbelievably firm, "I expect my team to follow them."

There's no response, except for the overwhelming quiet coming from the usually passionate and comforting presence that underlies your entire dynamic.

Price clears his throat, meeting all of your eyes one by one. You wonder if you can see the glassiness of yours, the barely restrained tears.

"So why," he begins, before swallowing once more, determination settling in, "Did all four of my teammates rush into an unstable building after being ordered to keep out?"

You know it's not just the anger of a captain's orders being refused.

It's the anger of a lover having to watch all four of his partner's risk their death, while he can do nothing but watch from the scope of a sniper rifle.

The clock on the wall above the door ticks, and none of you make a sound.

Price grabs a pack of cigars from his pocket, quickly sliding one out, placing it between his lips, and shoving the pack back into his slacks. He then pulls out a lighter from his back pocket, lighting the tobacco, before exhaling his first breath of smoke.

In any other situation, you or Gaz would be chastising him, telling him to stop smoking, or to at least do it outside.

Neither of you say a word.

Rubbing at the furrow between his brows, Price then drifts his eyes to Ghost, the only one who hasn't said a word since the mission.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Price says on a deep exhale, shaking his head. There's hurt there, genuine pain, and your heart stutters in your chest at the sight. "You're my lieutenant, Simon. I thought you'd at least 'ave the brains to listen to me when I make an order."

Ghost's hand tightens where it sit on his cargos, and even with his mask on, you can tell that a disgruntled frown lays beneath it.

"And you, Soap," he looks at the man to your right, now, and you can physically see him deflate at the disappointment in his captain's eyes. "Disrespecting authority is cute 'nd all, until it's me, mate."

Those words feel like a physical wound, even to you, and judging my Soap's crestfallen expression, for him, it must hurt tenfold.

And, then, it's your turn.

His mouth is set in a grim line, and you hope that he can see the regret, the genuine sorrow you feel at disappointing and -- and scaring your captain. Your lover.

"What were you thinking?" He asks, and your mouth wants to open, but it's as if there's an invisible force pinning it shut. "You weren't even supposed to step foot on enemy grounds, and you knew that."

And it's true. Your role is mainly with communications and technical supplies, not actual combat. You were trained, yes, but it has never been your role.

But you'd seen Soap rush in, Ghost trailing after him, yelling, and then Gaz not long after, and it was like your mind shut out any rational lines of thinking. There was no rationale when it came to your partners.

That was a flaw. A genuine character fault, and Price was cementing that fact in this very room.

"Kyle," Price runs his hand down his face, cigar in between his middle and index fingers, "Kyle."

The pain, regret, the melancholy -- it's its own element in this room, its own being, and it feels as if it's choking you from the inside out. Like a gas leak, or a grenade stuck in your throat, about to go off.

Ghost, shockingly, is the first to speak.

"Captain," he grits out. Not 'old man'. Not 'love'.

Captain.

"We're aware of our... misgivings," he states, the words coming off of his tongue like hot coals he needs to rid off, lest his entire mouth burns.

Price nods, slowly, eyes narrowing at Ghost. It hits you, then, how your lover's just dug all of your graves in one sentence. Gaz seems to realise, too, his eyes going wide, exhaling a low, short breath in surprise.

"Sweetheart," he quips, standing up in the transition of one moment to the next, eyes snapping to your glassy ones. The endearment holds no warmth to it, for the first time, and your heart shatters where it beats in your chest, shards of glass embedding into the muscle surround it. "Get on the desk."

He says the words, and in the next movement, sweeps his arm over his desk, causing all of his papers, his pens, his folders, to go careening to the floor.

Soap mutters a curse under his breath, and Gaz winces.

On shaky legs, you stand, walking the short distance to the wooden surface and sitting on it with short pants of breath.

His large hand grips your chin in a tight grasp, tilting your head back and forcing the eye contact between you both.

He leans in, mouth mere millimetres away from your own, before speaking. You can taste the tobacco as he does. "I'm gonna let every single one of my subordinates fuck your disobedient cunt, and it's not gonna get any cum. Do you understand that order, sweetheart?"

It's cruel. Patronising, and so unbearably condescending, but you nod, a tear finally leaking down your cheek.

With a calloused thumb, he wipes it away in one stroke. "Save that for the actual punishment, operator."

And then, he steps back, and takes a seat in his chair, allowing him a full view of the other three still sat at the couch, and your position in his desk.

"This is a lesson on following your captain's orders," Price barks his order, like most other men of his rank would. It's a stone cold contrast to the gentle, comforting way he usual spoke to the four of you. His voice, now, holds no love, no underlying adoration lacing through his words. "You will follow every command I give you, and hopefully, this training will carry onto our future missions."

You're all aware that if it gets too much, one of you will utter the safeword you're all aware of -- the weight of it almost embedded into your beings.

Price knows it, too. And no matter how angry he is, he'll always put you all first, listen to you when you genuinely need to stop.

The feeling in the room has shifted from one of heavy disappointment, to an electrifying anger that has liquid heat melting to your core.

"Simon," Price snaps his fingers, and it's almost as if you're in a parallel universe, because the large man immediately stands. "Lay 'er down on the desk."

Ghost only needs to take two steps from the couch before he's standing in front of you, hand fisting into your hair, before somewhat gently pushing you to lay flat against the smooth surface. Your breathing is harsh, your chest moving in quick rises.

"Strip 'er down," Price orders, voice gravelly as he takes another deep inhale of his cigar, folding his leg so his left ankle rests on his right knee, legs spread wide. He fills out the chair with his frame, and it makes you shiver as Ghost gets to work peeling your clothes off of you.

When your heated skin feels the kiss of the cool air, you let out a haggard breath, head falling back to hit the wood as you clench your eyes shut.

Ghost goes to spread your thighs, before pausing, awaiting Price's directions like a dutiful dog.

You never thought you'd see the day.

"She's wet enough," Price shrugs, taking another drag of his cigar. "Fuck 'er."

Oh, fuck.

He wasn't lying, you were soaking, something about the fear unknowingly having your inner thighs sticky and core aching to be filled.

But... not getting prepped? At all?

Ghost makes a surprised grunt of a noise, pausing for a moment, before recollecting his senses and unbuckling his pants.

Oh. Fuck.

He's really, properly following Price's directions, like the man had demanded. The guilt was eating all of you alive, and that festered in Simon's actions.

His deep brown eyes flick to yours, before he unzips his fly with one hand, gaze not moving from yours. There's slight apology in them, only a hint, before he leans down to spit on your cunt.

You inhale a sharp breath at the act, squeezing your eyes shut as his dick presses against your heat, rubbing against it slightly.

Then, he pushes in -- it makes you cry out, breath hitching as the tip enters. It's a tight fit, but he continues to push in, and it's almost as if you can feel the intrusion, the pressure in your chest.

"So you can follow orders, huh?" Price quips, almost nastily, and it has you shuddering as Ghost's hips finally flush against your own. You don't think you've ever taken any of them without foreplay, and it's a special form of torture. The pressure is almost too much, his cock filling you up so much.

Simon's head hangs between his shoulders, muscles tense as he stares down at you, the epitome of self-restraint.

He always was the most controlling one, the most calculating.

Not today, however.

That title easily belongs to Price, who merely relaxes further into his seat, as if he wasn't just mere feet away from the two of you.

"I said fuck her, Riley. Not stand there and keep it warm."

He's so fucking. He's fucking cruel about this, fully willing and wanting to make this hurt. It's so completely unlike the man you love, and it's psychologically damning in a way nothing else could be.

But, like directed, Simon fucks you.

He stops trying to be kind about it, stops wallowing in guilt. It's rough, forceful, urgent, unlike the way he usually liked to savour your pleasure, your pain. He usually delighted in the smooth, deep strokes, prolonging the passionate act almost vindictively.

No. Now, it's quick, punishing thrusts, and your head falls back and little moans escape your throat.

It's like you've both forgotten that Soap and Gaz sit on the couch, watching, waiting. Price has likely made it that way on purpose, to make them envy the attention you and Ghost are getting.

"Fuck," you moan, tits bouncing as Simon continues to fuck you relentlessly, harsh in his movements.

"Does he feel good?" Price is standing, and when you open glassy eyes, it's to see his face looking down at you. If you had the mind to, you'd flinch under his criticizing expression. "Answer me."

You nod, shakily, and when his brows narrow, you rush out a verbal response. "Yes, yes, he does!"

Price hums a noncommittal sound, before his hand slides down your stomach, leaving your hairs to stand on end, before his fingers reach your clit. In tight circles, he has you on the edge almost immediately, and you cry out.

"Gonna fuckin' cum," Ghost grunts, voice low as his eyes clench tight.

"Aww, you two close?" Your captain's voice is gruff, all too condescending, and just before you can find your release, his hand leaves your clit, and wraps around Ghost's neck. He leans into his ear, and his whisper is loud enough for everyone to hear. "Pull out."

Simon makes a noise suspiciously close to a whimper, and it's so unlike him that it has your eyes opening wide, before he does just as Price ordered.

He pulls out.

"Seriously?" You groan, filter eviscerated like your high was. You lean up, using your elbows for leverage.

Price raises one brow, before scratching at his beard almost absent-mindedly. "Got a complaint, sergeant?"

You shake your head, lightning quick, like a puppet on a string.

That's what you were right now -- what all of you were. Just puppets in whatever acts Price wanted to see you all star in.

It's exhilarating in the worst of ways.

"Soap, Gaz," Price snaps once more, and Ghost is nothing more than a neglected mutt. Which, really, is almost funny considering the amount of times the man teases you, Soap and Gaz about such a comment. You couldn't count the amount of times he's compare you three to 'needy puppies'.

Now, he was nothing more than that, and you wish you could enjoy that fact more.

The two men adhere to the command, radiating nervous energy as they stand to attention, not unlike they would if they were in a standard military unit.

"Gaz, take her mouth," Price demands, before his hand buries in the short hair near the nape of Soap's head with a mean grip, meant to hurt. Soap barely hides a whine as Price tugs him, forcing the man to his knees as if he's nothing more than the mutt Ghost usually refers to him as. "You, lick 'er clean."

You realise, then, what exactly this is.

It's truly a display of power. Of control. Because you four took that away from him on the field, unrightfully so. There truly is thought behind his anger, his pain.

It only makes the ache in your heart burn, makes it bruise and bleed where the shattered pieces cut and embed into the innerworkings of your body.

This 'training' won't make up for what you four pulled. Not in the slightest.

But it's something to let John get some of his emotions out, in a somewhat healthier way than you lot usually resorted to.

You'd always offer your support, offer yourself, and he knows that.

He's deliberately taking away that option for you, taking control to comfort the side of him that is so deeply ingrained, so deeply relied on for him to live.

You love him. So effortlessly.

Those words remain accurate, even as Johnny first licks over your wet pussy, and Kyle's dick bumps against your lips.

Opening your mouth without a thought, Kyle's tip slips in, his pre-cum salty on your tongue as you flatten your tongue against it. Johnny's as enthusiastic as ever, maybe even more than usual, as he delegates all of his attention to your aching warmth.

John's grip doesn't release from Johnny's hair, shoving his closer against you, and the sight is so hot that you wish you could fully, properly enjoy it.

Another time, when you're all in better spots, happy and unapologetic, you'll ask them to re-enact the scene.

Johnny moans against your pussy, hands coming up to grip at your bare thighs, and you just know there'll be finger-shaped bruises come tomorrow morning. He's always been unaware of his strength, not understanding the proper damage he can inflict, especially in the bedroom. It's attractive as all hell.

"Yeah? She taste good, hm?" John nearly snarls, and you let out a drawn out moan at the pleasure and words. The sound is muffled by Kyle pushing in deeper, having you almost gagging on his length.

Your eyes flutter shut at the onslaught of feelings, but even with no sight, you can feel Simon's eyes on you like a physical weight.

You know what position he's in, without having to look. Leaning against the wall with a furious expression, large arms folded over his bulky chest. Maybe he's pulled off his mask, maybe it's just been hooked over his crooked nose.

"Fuck, cap," Kyle groans, bucking into your throat. "So fuckin' good--"

Johnny muffles a whine as his efforts nearly double, and you swear spots colour the darkness of your vision. You're already there, and it's not like you can say anything, with Kyle abusing your mouth like this.

"She's close, ain't she, Johnny? Feel her clenchin' on your tongue?" John taunts, and you can feel Johnny nod against your core, nose brushing your clit as he does.

John huffs a cruel laugh, before he abruptly pulls Johnny away by the scruff of his neck. You can't help by buck up, searching for touch, but none comes.

"Kyle," John's tone is one requiring no resistance, and with a shaky exhale, Kyle pulls out of your mouth, a string of spit clinging to his dick, before snapping and leaving your cheek covered with a line of it.

You shakily open your eyes, your pussy begging for a release, knowing that you won't get one. Not yet.

"You make a mess, you clean it up," John says.

So, Kyle leans down, his tongue licking over the spit trail, and really it should be disgusting.

Instead, it only makes you wetter.

Your thighs incessantly shake, no hint of stopping as your body aches. The emotional turmoil, mixed with the physical kind -- it's a concoction for torture.

With half-lidded eyes, you watch as John forces Johnny's head in between your breasts, pressing his face into them. It must be almost suffocating, but Johnny manages to whine as you feel John's hand wrap around Johnny's dick, positioning it against your twitching hole.

"Rut into her," John orders, before stepping back.

Johnny does just that -- he thrusts in, bottoming out with one push. Your moan sounds too alike to a squeal at the stretch, the sudden intrusion. Your arms wrap around his back, nails scratching lines down Johnny's back as he thrusts into you almost manically. You're sure that you're drawing blood, but it only seems to encourage the man rutting into you further, his thrusts urgent and feral.

"Jesus christ," someone -- you're sure it's Kyle -- murmurs, and you suddenly want to know what you must look like from a spectator. Ruined, probably.

Your breaths are harried as you feel yourself getting close once more, tears burning at the corner of your vision at the pure need coursing through your veins.

"Please," you whimper, squeezing like a vice around Johnny's dick. "Please, oh god."

"Now you want me to make decisions? Let you two cum?" There's a hand in your hair, and in any other situation, it'd be calming.

Currently, it feels like a thinly veiled threat.

"Please, John, 'm so sorry, please," you beg, eyes blurry as you look up into the man's stormy blue eyes.

Usually, they're comparable to a calm ocean, the beach mid-summer.

Now, they're akin to the darkest of storms, the ones sailors whisper about, the ones that haunt them while they're asleep at sea. Ones that cause shipwrecks to wash up on shores, ones that cause stories to be passed between campers on the scariest of nights.

"Now you're sorry, sweetheart?" And, oh, there's a sliver of the warmth you've come to crave, and it almost has you melting where you lay.

You're so close, you can taste it on your tongue, and your moans get louder, needier, more frantic --

"Stop, Johnny."

Tears fall, then. Hot and heavy down your cheeks, leaving sticky tracks in their wake. Hiccups fall from your lips as you sob from the deprevation.

Johnny whines, head drooped low as he stops, and you can feel him pulse inside of you, both of you at your wits' end.

"You follow orders so well in this room, don't you?" John says. The voice of a captain.

It's almost your last straw. The devastation is too great, the mix of physical and emotion stress weighing on you heavily.

"'M so sorry, shoulda listened," you cry, body trembling.

"John, please, we're sorry," Kyle insists, a furrow between his dark brows where he takes a step closer to you and Johnny.

Simon, although silent, is also closer to you both now than he had been, no longer stood against the wall.

Your boys -- they're so inherently protective, and it's such a nice feeling. No matter how guilty they feel, how genuinely sorry, they can't stand to see you or Johnny so weak, so vulnerable.

Love. You love them, in a way words can never describe.

John exhales. A deep, thoughtful one.

"We're talking about this, after we're all cleaned up," he says. It's the first hint of himself that you've heard tonight, and the relief is like an intoxicating drug.

It's like even the room itself takes a deep breath, dispelling of some of the tension lining every inch of it.

"Off 'er," John snaps his fingers, and Johnny pulls out with a small whimper, head still hung low.

Grabbing your hips, John flips you over, making you bend so your face is to the desk and your ass is in the air. His large hand presses against your lower back, bending you into an arch.

He slides in, and it's an easy entry. You don't think you've been more wet in your life, and gods, you need it.

Setting a ruthless pace immediately, every thrust forces a whimper, a moan, a whine out of your mouth, eyes dazed as your cheek presses against the wood. His hand fists into your hair, forcing your head to face the three men stood side by side, watching you both with a flurry of emotions behind heavy stares.

"Feel so fuckin' good, christ," John seethes, his grip tightening in your hair, causing your moan to become louder as it leaves your lips.

It isn't long before you're at that cliff once more, begging for a final push, just so you can reach that finish you ache for.

"Gonna, fuck, please, let me cum, John, I love you, I'm so sorry," your words aren't fully your own, and they come out in a desperate plea.

"Yeah? My girl gonna cum for me? Needy slut."

Those words are your undoing, your nirvana.

You cum, body strung tight as tears fall down your cheeks once more, your vision nearly blacking out with the strength of your orgasm. It's almost painful, the stimulation altogether too much, and not enough.

John finishes not long after, his cum filling you up with a loud groan from him.

He releases his fist in your hair, and you head falls to the desk, body slumping with the final release of pleasure.

Stroking a smoothing hand down your back, he pulls out, and you can feel his seed leaking down your thighs. You must be a sight -- all worn out and dripping with the white liquid.

"We don't getta cum?" Johnny whines, and you can hear the roll of Simon's eyes.

There's a hand stroking stray hairs off of your face, and from the texture and size of the limb you can tell it's Kyle.

"You won't get to tomorrow, either, if you keep tha' up," Price mutters, and you let out a delusional giggle at his words. You're cum-drunk, almost, from how drawn out your orgasm had been.

"We really are sorry, Cap," Kyle murmurs genuinely, and the hurt is a sharp barb on his tongue. "You know we love you, didn't mean to hurt you."

John releases a long, worn-out breath. "I know that. I do. But you're a bunch of reckless muppets 'nd you fuckin' went too far today. I'm your captain, lover or not."

"We'll talk it over later," Simon states, and you can't help but agree with the sentiment.

You will. And it'll be a painful conversation, but one that you all owe to your captain.

Because, at the end of the day, you four would do anything for the man that you love. That includes the tough words, the difficult exchanges.

John presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, and with complete certainty, you're sure that you're all going to be okay.

a/n. the day that i stop loving poly 141 is the day that i die. price needs all the love omg this one kinda hurt to write cause oof angst but hopefully it was an enjoyable read!!!! thank you to everyone who comments on my fics, your notes etc make me do a lil happy dance ily all!!!!!!!!!!!!

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ BEGINNER'S LUCK ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: you beat him at his own game on livestream, and it's your first time playing

contents: fem!reader. gojo gets slandered by everyone </3 but he slanders toji. again. vague descriptions of what game you guys are playing, imagine whichever game u want.

author's note: thinkin' about making streamer!gojo a series, stay tuned ...

"so you're gonna want to click that when someone attacks you," satoru informs you, hand on your shoulder. his chin rests on the top of your head as he watches you learn the in's and out's of some game he's well-known for streaming. "no, not that one, silly. the other one."

you groan and make a face at the screen in exasperation. "why do all the buttons look the same?" you grumble, drumming your fingers on the table next to his luminescent keyboard. "you better go easy on me when we go live."

satoru laughs and kisses the top of your head before strolling over to his own plush seat next to you. "don't worry, sweetheart. i will, i promise."

a couple minutes later, satoru starts chatting with his thousands of viewers as you puzzle over how to join his co-op lobby. 

toji-fushiguro: is your gf gonna join? ;)

you hear satoru scoff and see him lean closer to the monitor, squinting at the message that mentions you. "i remember you," satoru huffs, white hair falling into his eyes. "you better stop bringing her up or i'll block you, fishface."

a small laugh bubbles out of your lips as satoru continues addressing the flood of comments asking about you. in his last stream, he had mentioned thinking about teaching you to play the game he got famous for, and his viewers reacted more than enthusiastically. "wow, you guys really want to see me win against my own girlfriend?" satoru tsks, wagging his finger at the screen. "nah, i promised i'd go easy on her. i like her more than you faceless strangers on the internet. i'm looking at you, toji."

"satoru?" you whisper, scrunching up your nose when he immediately turns to you, all thoughts of publicly humiliating toji set aside. "how do i... join a co-op session?"

your boyfriend grins and leans over, clicking a couple buttons in too fast of a sequence for you to follow, and soon enough, your avatar stands next to satoru's. "there!"

"thanks," you huff, watching him slide back into his chair and banter with a couple more comments. and moments later, the game starts. satoru starts out with a play-by-play of his actions, making it really easy for you to piece together the strategy and techniques of the game. to your surprise, you don't die that easily — in fact, you eliminate five other players before retreating to the top of a tree to hide.

a couple kills later, you and satoru are some of the last people on the map. satoru makes quick work of the leftovers before stretching his arms and grinning smugly. "looks like i trained you well, darling," he calls, briefly turning to you and blowing a kiss. "now, where are you? come out and let me catch you, baby."

you hum in response, not bothering to come down from your tree. thankfully, the leaves are thick enough to obscure your avatar from satoru's view, and he walks right past you without even bothering to check. you grin and lean in closer to the computer, aiming at his blissfully unaware avatar and—

"what the fuck?" satoru yelps when his avatar crumbles to the ground. a message noting his death appears on his screen, and he turns to you immediately, betrayal evident on his shocked expression. "you shot me in the back!" he whines, getting up and looking at your screen in disbelief. "how could you?!"

you stick your tongue out at him smugly. "i win!" you cheer, and satoru splutters in disbelief, stumbling over his words as he watches you reap the rewards of your win. "i can't believe you lost to a beginner," you muse, rubbing in your victory. "maybe i should take over your stream," you continue, fluttering your eyelashes at satoru as he gapes at your screen.

"it's only 'cause i went easy on you!" satoru huffs, walking back to his chair and requesting a rematch. "this time, i won't be so nice."

the next game, satoru doesn't say anything, ocean-blue eyes focused on his own screen. from the stream opened in the corner of your monitor, you see his comments blow up.

suguru-geto: wow you're really off your game today

inumaki: he just sucks wdym

toji-fushiguro: deserved 💯

you think about hiding in a tree again, but decide against it. satoru would probably expect you to repeat that strategy, and for all you know, he might have an item that could help him sneak up on you. so you run off to an area that's relatively flat and keep an eye out for other users. you eliminate two before you catch a glimpse of satoru in a tree, but just a second later, he vanishes. 

from the corner of your eye, you see satoru mouth "got you" to his screen, and just in time, you dodge an attack you wouldn't have seen otherwise. somehow, your finger slips, and you shoot without aim. and somehow, your aim was on-point — satoru's avatar falls to its knees once more, and satoru groans in defeat.

"why are you good at this?" satoru grumbles, jumping off his seat and strolling over to wear you sit with a cocky smile on your lips. he all but abandons his stream as he walks over and pokes you childishly. satoru watches you eliminate the last two users, and he scoffs at the emblem of victory that lights up your screen. he kisses you begrudgingly and mutters something about losing a bet, to which you kiss his nose affectionately.

"but really," satoru whines, plopping back down in his chair and swiveling it to face you. "how are you so good?! and shut up suguru," he snipes, leering at the chat. "i'm doing fine, she's just insane! and you too, inumaki. there's a reason all your fans are regulars on my stream! because you suck!" at that, you snicker, spinning around in your own chair and half-watching the chat blow up with more of his viewers' thoughts. 

inumaki: SHUT UP U JUST LOST TO A FIRST TIMER

megumi-fushiguro: real 

"oh, shut it, other-fushiguro," satoru scoffs, narrowing his eyes at the chatbox. "at least my hair doesn't look like how little kids draw grass."

you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle the laugh threatening to slip out, but when satoru turns and pouts at you, you can't help it. he's so petty and stubborn, but his eyes soften when he sees how big your smile is. and, not to your surprise, he matches your grin with one of his own. satoru draws a heart in the air with both his index fingers and scrunches up his nose at you, and your heart melts.

"you're so stupid," you mumble, watching him kick his feet like an antsy five year-old. satoru opens his arms in response, and no more than two seconds pass before you're nestled in his lap. he's wearing a light blue hoodie and white sweats, and nothing could make you more comfortable than that in the world. you turn your head and make eye contact with satoru's camera, and smile at the flood of comments on how cute you two look together.

yuuji-itadori: awww its kinda cute

suguru-geto: sooo down bad tbh

toji-fushiguro: you gotta be f*cking kidding me

satoru kisses the side of your face while glaring at the screen, and eventually he presses his lips to your ear and whispers, "wanna end the stream? there's too many people watching and i wanna keep you all to myself."

"hehe, let's do it!"

[im-ovulating]

For Kinktober: anything with Jasper Whitlock, but preferably size kink (short reader), voice kink, hand kink, and some on top of the clothes action / sex in the clothes. Choose all of it or one, I don't care, just having a brainrot about him: my ovaries explode every time I see this gif

(A/n: Kinktober Day 6/15! I wanted to keep all of this year's kinktober fics below 2.5k, but this one got away from me ;v;)

Word Count: 3,842

Summary- Well, you HAVE to take on his challenge -I mean, experiment. It's only the responisble thing to do as his study partner.

Warnings: Strip game, Fingering, PIV, Creampie, Cocky! Jasper, Not proofread

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Jasper Whitlock x Fem! Reader: Study Buddy

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

"Did you know that predators have front-facing eyes, but prey normally have eyes on the side of their faces?" You ask Jasper as you scan your textbook. He had agreed to help you study for an upcoming test. "It's because the prey has to be able to look out for danger."

Not only is evolutionary bio not your strongest subject, but your professor is an asshat so you really can't afford to fail this test.

"I did," he mumbles as he highlights a section that he thinks you should go through again. "Did you know that when two animals make eye contact, the first to look away is the submissive?" Jasper asks back.

"That's gotta be BS, right? What if one just doesn't want to look at the other's ugly mug?" Your retort is weak, but your tone has the confidence of a straight, cis, white man who's telling you what your own name means.

Jasper lets out a small, huffed laugh and finally looks up at you, warm gold meeting e/c. "I don't think animals think that way, darlin'."

"Are you an animal whisperer?" You snark, crossing your arms with a cocked eyebrow.

"Do you really think it's not real?" He gets back on topic. When you shake your head, he turns his chair towards you before doing the same to your own so you both face each other. "Really? Then, let's test that theory, hm? You seem pretty confident in yourself, so what's the harm?"

"I seem pretty confident because I am pretty confident." You mark your place and shut the textbook.

He chuckles with a small shake of the head. Leaning back in his chair with one arm thrown over the back, Jasper says, "Let's play a game."

"We're supposed to be studyin-" "It's a science experiment."

When you fall back against your seat, he continues. "We'll make eye contact, we'll stare at each other, and the first to look away loses. And if you lose..." he smirks a little, "you lose a piece of clothing. Best out of five wins."

You chew on your lip as you mull it over. You're confident that you can keep eye contact. And the submissive thing is bullshit, anyway, so it's not like your pride will take a hit. "So, strip poker but with a staring contest?" He nods.

"Exactly."

"...okay."

You meet Jasper's warm golden gaze, determination etched on your face. There's no way you're going to lose this little game of his.

"I know what's going to happen. You're going to give in; you can't take the pressure." You ignore him, zeroing on a small fleck of dark gold in his eyes to ground your thoughts.

As the seconds tick by, you resist the urge to look away, focused solely on holding Jasper's stare. His voice, low and smooth, sends shivers down your spine. "That's a good girl, keeping those pretty eyes on me."

Your breath catches at the sudden praise, your lips parting in a small, silent gasp. You won't let him distract you that easily, though. You're in it to win it.

Jasper's long, slender fingers drum lightly against his jean-clad thigh, drawing your gaze for just a moment before you force yourself to look back into his eyes. His lips curve into a knowing smirk.

It takes you a second to realize. "...fuck!"

"That's my round, darlin'." He goads.

With a small grumble and more force than necessary, you all but rip your socks off and throw them at his head. He catches them before they even get close. You're less coordinated in your attempt to dodge them, and all you can do is grumble more when they hit you square in the middle of your face.

"Stop looking so smug - there's still plenty of time for me to whoop your ass." You can't decide if you want to wipe that dumb-ass, unfairly charming smirk off his equally handsome face or if you want to pull him in and kiss him silly. Probably both... Yeah, both is good.

Jasper's eyes gleam with amusement as he watches your continued huffing and puffing. He leans back in his chair, his fingers still tapping against his leg.

"Don't be so sour, darlin'," he grins, his voice low and velvety smooth. "The game's just getting started."

You narrow your eyes at him, determined not to let his distracting voice and looks throw you off this time. "Just shut up and start the next round, Whitlock."

He chuckles, the sound rumbling deep in his chest, and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he holds your gaze. The air crackles with tension as you both refuse to back down, each daring the other to be the first to look away.

The seconds tick by, the only sound the quiet rhythm of your breathing. You can feel the weight of Jasper's stare, intense and captivating, drawing you in. Your pulse quickens, palms growing sweaty, but you refuse to lose again.

Just when you think you might actually win this round, Jasper's lips curve into a slow, predatory smile. "You know you want to look away. You want to give in, to submit; it's in your DNA. C'mon... Just look away, prove what we both already know: that when it comes down to it, you'd do nothing but roll over and show your belly..."

You roll your eyes in a subconscious attempt to ignore how his words, no matter how much they were shit talking, made your heart leap into your throat. With a triumphant smirk, Jasper declares, "My round again."

"That's not fair! You shouldn't be able to annoy me into losing!" You lie through your teeth about the true effect he's having on you.

Barking out a laugh, he says, "The only rule was that we can't look away. We never decided talking or touching were off limits. You lost fair and square, sugar, so lose an item."

"But-" "Three seconds before i decide which one," he interrupts with a cheeky grin. "and you might not like what I choose... Three. Two-" You let out a frustrated groan, quickly removing your shirt and tossing it to the side. His laughter only serves to further stoke the flames of your competitive spirit. "There we go! Good girl."

"I thought we're supposed to be studying." You try to feign nonchalance as you sit there, bra exposed and with only three items left. Technically, you're tied in terms of clothing remaining, but it's also not lost on you that it's currently 0-2 in Jasper's favor.

"We are studying; this is a science experiment, remember? Unless you're ready to admit that you're wrong AND that you're submissive. That would be quite the win on my end." Well, shit. Now you can't back out. You'll be damned if you let him have something to hang over your head.

"Just you wait, Whitlock," you snap, trying to regain your focus for the next round. "I'm just getting warmed up."

You narrow your eyes at Jasper, determined not to let him fluster you again. The stakes are higher now, but you've got this.

Taking a deep breath, you meet his gaze once again. The tension in the air is palpable as you both refuse to back down.

Jasper's lips curl into a challenging smirk, his long fingers still tapping a steady rhythm against his thigh. You force yourself to focus solely on his eyes, blocking out everything else.

Seconds turn to minutes as you hold his stare, your heartbeat thundering in your ears but you refuse to waver.

Just when you think you're finding a groove and might stand a chance at winning, Jasper leans forward, his voice low and sultry. "You're doing so well, darlin'. But I can see it in your eyes - you're starting to crack."

A shiver runs down your spine at his words, but you grit your teeth and push on. You will not lose this round, no matter what underhanded tactics he tries.

The room fills with an intensity that almost makes it hard to breath as you continue your silent battle of wills. Jasper's gaze is unwavering, a predatory gleam in his eyes that makes your breath catch and waver.

Jasper's hand suddenly moves, his fingers slowly inching up your thigh. Your eyes widen and your pulse quickens but you refuse to look away.

"Good girl," Jasper acknowledges, his cool touch burning through the fabric of your jeans. "Just keep your eyes on me."

His fingers continue their slow, tantalizing trek up your thigh, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. His gaze is electric, drawing you in despite your best efforts to maintain composure. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears, but you refuse to break eye contact, stubbornly holding his molten stare.

"Jasper…" you breathe, unable to keep the quiver out of your voice. His lips curve into a knowing smile, fingers inching higher.

"That's it, darlin'," his voice is low and velvety smooth. "Just focus on me. Don't look away. It should be easy for you, right? You're a strong, dominant girl, after all."

The temptation to give in, to let your eyes slip shut, is nearly overwhelming. But you dig deep, summoning every ounce of willpower to maintain the intense eye contact.

Jasper's hand reaches the waist of your jeans, his fingertips dancing along the sensitive skin just above. Your pulse quickens and a shiver runs down your spine.

"J-Jasper…" you stammer, grip tightening on the arms of your chair.

His eyes shine with a predatory gleam as he watches you. "C'mon, sugar. Just a little bit longer… You can do it. Keep those pretty eyes on me.

"Or you can look away, let me take these pants off." he adds with a self-satisfied smirk.

You know you're teetering on the edge, your resolve rapidly crumbling under the onslaught of his touch and his words.

The seconds stretch on, the tension in the room palpable. Jasper's fingers continue their torturously slow ascent, and you find yourself struggling to keep your focus on his eyes.

His fingers dance along the underwire of your bra, "And after that, I'll pull those panties off of you with my teeth; maybe dive right in and see if that pussy tastes as good as I think it does." Your eyes flutter shut as a white-hot spike of arousal shoots straight to your core. He pulls his hand away and when you reopen your eyes, you see a triumphant grin has spread across Jasper's face. "That's my girl." Your eyes widen as you realize - you've lost. Again.

"You've got two chances left. Still think you're going to win?" Jasper asks. "I'm sure you can do it. Right? You can turn it around. Round 4."

As you settle in for yet another round, he gets in another jab. "You're gonna break. You're going to and it's going to be really fast."

His hand returns to your thigh; this time it only takes a second for him to reach the hem of your panties, his fingers dancing along the elastic. You swallow harshly, but keep his gaze. "You're not even trying to fight it; you're just letting me touch you."

"You're gonna keep looking me in the eyes when I move your panties to the side and slide my fingers in, aren't you?" Your breath hitches. "No, don't lose yet. Come on, look at me. Don't look away, I don't want you to look away." It's hard to fight against the urge to hide your face but you manage. You can feel how hot your cheeks are, and you can only imagine the expression on your face.

"Good girl," Jasper murmurs. "Don't look away. Don't you dare look away." You start to squirm a little, clenching your thighs desperate for some friction. "Why are you turned on?" He teases, his fingers still threatening to dip under the thin fabric. "Is it because you're submissive and you like losing? There's fight and flight, but you... you freeze. And you're gonna let me take what I want."

He finally tugs your panties aside and dips two fingers into you. your teeth dig into your bottom lip as you try to focus. You're so wet you swear you can feel it dripping down towards your ass. Fuck this is embarrassing but you realize you'd rather die than stop now; you want this. You want to just let go and let him take and take and take.

You crave his touch, crave to be used by him.

Jasper's fingers crook up into a spot that has stars dancing in your vision. Somehow you manage to just barely keep your eyes on him.

"C'mon, don't lose. I only have three pieces of clothing; you can still win this..." he taunts. "Don't look away, don't look away. Don't look away. Don't lose. Come on, look at me in my eyes. Good girl- don't look away."

"There it is..." He muses, pressing his fingers into your g spot as your back arches away from your chair and a debauched moan rips from your throat. "You lose again, darlin'." He brings his hand up to his mouth to clean your arousal off his fingers.

You let out a frustrated whine, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Jasper's smug grin only infuriates you further - he's clearly enjoying this power he has over you.

"That's not fair," you pant, your body still tingling from his touch. "You're cheating."

Jasper chuckles, leaning back in his chair as he examines you hungrily. "Darlin', I don't need to cheat to make you submit to me. You want this just as badly as I do. Like I said earlier- we never agreed 'no touching'."

You can only glare half-heartedly at him, knowing he's right.

"Hey," Jasper ducks his head to catch your eyes as you look at the ground to avoid his gaze. "You got one more. It's the last round. You're still in this; you can still win. You've got to get at least one piece from me. you can't lose every time - that would just be pathetic..." You go to smack his arm, but he avoids it.

With a resigned and frustrated sigh, you unhook your bra and let it fall to the floor. "Let's get this over with already." you grumble. you want this to end partly to stop the embarrassment of losing this badly, but mainly because the sooner this is over, the sooner you can fuck him.

As the final round starts, Jasper reaches up to grab your chin, tilting your head up to barely brush his lips against yours. His eyes never leave yours as he asks, "Why don't you just look away on purpose so I can take these off and fuck you?"

His other hand reaches down to press his thumb against your clit, causing your eyes to shut as you let loose a shaky moan. "Oh- you lost..." The grin he gives you can only be described as devilish.

Faster than you can process, he is picking you up by the thighs and setting you on the table.

True to his word, he drops to his knees between your legs and. after pressing a few possessive kisses along your belly and the apex of your thighs, he takes your panties between his teeth and starts to slide them off of you.

You shudder with anticipation as Jasper's cool breath ghosts over your most intimate area. With painstaking slowness, he tugs your panties down, revealing your glistening cunt. His eyes never leave yours, molten gold boring into your very soul.

A playful smirk graces his perfect lips as he tosses the flimsy fabric aside. Calloused hands caress the soft skin of your inner thighs, urging them to part further. You comply willingly, heart racing in excitement.

Jasper hums appreciatively, drinking in the sight of your exposed cunt. Leaning in, he trails feather-light kisses along your dripping folds, teasing you mercilessly. Just when you think you can't take the anticipation any longer, his talented tongue darts out, parting your swollen lips and delving deep.

An involuntary moan escapes your lips as pleasure courses through you. Jasper sets an agonizingly slow pace, savoring every twitch and tremble of your body. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he explores every inch of your most sensitive area. "Fuck, I knew you'd taste amazing..." His low groan vibrates against you and forces another small gasp to leave you.

Jasper's skilled tongue continues its agonizingly slow exploration, eliciting more breathless sighs and whimpers from you. His grip on your hips tightens as he senses your growing desperation for release.

With a low growl, he suddenly picks up the pace, licking and sucking with purpose. Your back arches as the coil of pleasure tightens, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

Just as you feel the first tremors of your impending climax, Jasper pulls away, leaving you panting and aching. He gazes up at you with hooded eyes, a smug expression on his face.

"Not yet, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice dripping with dark promise. "I have other plans for you."

Jasper's hands grip your hips firmly as he effortlessly maneuvers your body, guiding you to bend over the sturdy table. A gasp escapes your lips at the sudden change in position.

With your upper body pressed against the cool surface, you feel impossibly exposed and vulnerable. The long-forgotten books and scattered papers crinkle under your weight as Jasper's powerful frame looms over you, his presence radiating a primal dominance.

A shiver runs down your spine as his fingers trail along your spine, eliciting goosebumps in their wake. Leaning in close, he places a series of searing kisses along the back of your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin before pulling back and undressing.

Trembling with anticipation, you arch your back, silently begging for more of his touch. Jasper growls low in his throat, the primal sound sending a shiver down your spine. His large palms slide up your sides, calloused fingers caressing the curve of your waist.

You whimper, desperate for him to finally fuck you.

Jasper chuckles, the deep rumble of his voice sending sparks of desire through your body. "So impatient," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Don't worry, sugar, I'm just getting started."

Jasper's grip on your hips tightens as he slowly, teasingly, presses his body against yours. You can feel the hard lines of his muscles and you ache to have him inside you. His hands slide up your sides, caressing and exploring your body.

Finally, after what feels like ages, he lines his cock up with your sopping pussy and starts to press in.

You gasp, arching your back as the head of his cock teases your entrance. "Jasper!" You moan, shuddering with anticipation.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he slides into you, inch by delicious inch. You feel every millimeter of his legnth as he fills you up, stretching and claiming you. His grip on your hips tightens, and you can feel the way his forearms bulging as he struggles to maintain control.

"Fuck," he growls, finally bottoming out inside you. He holds still for a moment, his lips pressing against your neck as he regains his breath.

Then, without warning, he begins to move, pulling almost all the way out before plunging back in with a force that takes your breath away. Over and over, he thrusts into you, his hips slapping against yours in a rhythm that is both primal and possessive.

You drop your head to the table, letting out a long, keening cry as you feel his cock hit your sweet spot, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. "Jasper!" You cry out, your voice echoing in the room.

His hands move to your breasts, tweaking and pinching your nipples as he fucks into you harder and faster. You can feel the heat building between your legs, the sensation growing more intense with each passing moment.

"I knew you were a submissive little thing," he says between grunts. "We could've gotten here a lot quicker if you had just dropped the act earlier, darlin'." You can feel his shit eating grin against your shoulder.

"Really?" you gasp out, body sliding against the table with each thrust. "You want to argue about that now?"

His chuckle is low in your ear. "Just making a point, sugar." Jasper presses a kiss to the space just behind your ear before leaning back and fucking into you harder.

The rough wood of the table bites into your shoulders, but you don't care. All that matters is the feeling of him inside you, claiming you.

"Jasper," you moan, your voice filled with pleasure and desperation. "I need… I need you to cum inside me." You beg, your back arching impossibly more as he reaches around to toy with your clit.

He picks up the pace even more, slamming into you over and over again. "Almost there, doll," he says, his voice rough with lust. "Just wait for it."

You clench around him, trying to draw him deeper inside you. The sensation is almost too much to bear, but you're so, so close.

You feel your body tense and then release in a wave of pure pleasure. Your muscles clench around Jasper's cock, milking him as you experience your orgasm. A loud moan escapes your lips, and your hips buck against the table unconsciously. Sweat beads on your forehead, and your skin feels flushed with heat.

As your climax subsides, you feel a cool rush between your legs. Jasper's release. He groans deeply, his body shuddering against yours.

After a minute of him staying plastered to your back, keeping you bent over the table, you feel him slowly pull out of you, and you can't help but whimper in disappointment.

"Don't give me any of that, doll," Jasper gently chides. He scoops you up in his arms, cradling you against his chest. You wrap your legs around him, holding onto him tightly. The chill of his skin against your heated sex is comforting, soothing the ache.

He carries you to the couch, setting you down gently before standing up and pulling his boxers on and heading into the kitchen. While he's gone, you take the opportunity to catch your breath and compose yourself. When he returns, he has a damp cloth. He gently cleans between them, his touch soft and careful as he wipes up the remnants of your tryst. Neither of you speak as he cares for you, reveling in the comfortable silence that blankets the both of you.

Once your cleaned up, he helps you redress; he helps you pull your panties back on along with his shirt. He scoops you up into his arms again as he lays on the couch. As you curl against him once more, he kisses the top of your head. "There's my good girl," he whispers. "I've got you."

[sweetblossomsss]

I’ll be back || CHOI SAN

Synopsis: You don’t understand what happened for him to suddenly disappear. You don’t understand why the police tells you there is no one by the name of Choi San— as if he never existed. You don’t understand why he came back to you, five years later.

WARNINGS: one shot, cursing, crying (lots), ANGST (my fav), fluff, happy ending, SMUT, rough sex, choking, pet name of baby to Y/N, drinking, drunkenness, throwing things, San was affiliated with a gang, Y/N owns a gun, oral (f receiving), mentions of San’s gruesome crimes, back and forth between Y/N and San (ish), Y/N take San back way too easily (lmao), throwing up (only once), I’m sure I’m missing some stuff just lmk. San's POV POSTED

Word Count: 12k Started: February 2024. Finished: Nov 29, 2024

Blossom’s Note: Hello my petals, hope all is good. Coming at you with a Choi San one shot. Title was inspired by 2pm’s I’ll be back (chefs kiss song). Story was inspired by both the song and the line in John Wick when the father told the son that in order for him to get out, he had to do the impossible. Please keep in mind that this is no where near the same as the movie nor will any killings be mentioned. Now grab some popcorn and a drink and enjoy!

PAST

Silence takes over the room while the distant, muffled voices of your neighbors outside your apartment speak amongst themselves in the hallway, radiating some noise in the room. Dogs in different apartments barked at them, alerting everyone in the complex that people are walking by. Soon the faint sounds of keys jiggling can be heard as they stepped into their respective home and then—complete silence.

The room was dimly lit by your lamp with a fading bulb on its last life—that you always forget to change. You laid on your stomach, resting your head on your arms that was propped on top of your cushioned pillow as you slowly kicked your legs up and down, staring into his eyes as if you were locked in a trance by his gaze.

His fingers traced caressing patterns on your back, making you bit your lower lip gently as you felt the goosebumps form on your skin. He was lying on his side, his hand propped up to hold his head as he other hand roamed your back lovingly.

He gives you a small smirk, nodding his head to signal you to get on top of him. “Come here.” He said in a low voice as he laid on his back, placing an arm behind his head to get a good view of you on top. His favorite view.

You felt giddy inside, smiling as you got up. You quickly threw a leg over, straddling him. He wasted no time in gliding his free hand from your thigh to your ass giving it a slight squeeze. You placed your hands on his chest for support to which he slide the same hand up your arm and cups the side of your face.

You two stare into each other, all mesmerized as he caressed your cheek with his thumb causing you to lean into his touch. You closed your eyes, feeling the comforting warmth of his hand radiating on your cheek.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said in a sweet voice. You opened your eyes to catch him already looking into your eyes. “I could stay in this moment forever,” he said watching you slightly turn to the side as you kissed his palm. His hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you toward him as you ghost your lips over his, “Just you and me.”

Oh, the way your stomach flips at his words especially when he talks in a low tone. He removes the hand behind his head, placing both of them under your shirt wanting to feel your skin, scrunching up your oversized shirt a little bit from his caressing movements.

You hummed in agreement, “Just you and me.” You repeated, pecking his lips once, “Forever.” You said before leaning back down to capture his lips. You feel his strong arms wrap around your waist, wanting to feel you closer—if that was even possible.

You moan slightly into his mouth, feeling the kiss starting to pick up. He cups your ass, giving it a nice squeeze as you raised your hand up to his hair tugging slightly making him moan in delight. Just as this moment was starting to heat up and get spicy—“Let’s runaway.” He breaks the kiss.

You looked at him, he was panting slightly trying to catch his breath as his eyes gleamed a bit. You panted as you sat up, tilting your head to the side, “What?” You asked with a playful smile on your lips as you furrowed your eyebrows.

Did he really leave you hot and bothered to say some stupid shit? Leave it to San to cockblock the fuck out of the both of you with his random thoughts.

He sits up, adjusting himself underneath you as he wraps his arms around your waist again as your hands make home in his hair as you caressed it. “You heard me,” he said, “let’s runaway. Just you and me, mm? What do you think?” He said ask he peppered kissed on your neck.

You chuckled at his words, tilting your head more as he kept leaving kisses on your neck down to your collarbone, “what I think is that you’re dumb. Did you really stop us for that?” You laughed, reaching to cup his face as you looked down at him. He nodded, “I’m being serious!” He pouted at you.

You sighed. “Okay. Say we were to,” you say playing along with his idea,“where would we go?” You asked him, leaning down to kiss away his pout.

He looks back and forth between your eyes, smirking as he flips you onto your back causing you yelp in surprise. “Anywhere you want to go,” he grabs your legs, wanting to feel them wrapped around him, “Whatever you want,” He says leaning down to kiss you on your lips. “I’ll do it for you.” His kisses trail down to your jaw. “Anything you want.” Down your neck as he caressed your leg.

You licked your lips and slightly moan at the sensation. “Mmm, anything?” You asked him raising an eyebrow as you tilt your head to look at him. “Anything, baby.” He looked up from the crook of your neck.

You shook your head, “You’re so silly. You know we can’t do that.” You smiled at him but then turned serious, “Plus can you even afford me? I’m quite expensive.” You lifted your hand up, examining your nails acting all snobby like turning your head to the side.

He pauses for a second, sitting up. He scoffs, “Excuse me?” Hand on his chest feigning to be offended.

You looked at him and eyed him up and down, playfully judging him and shrugged, “I have expensive taste and demands that need to met.” You said crossing your arms.

“Hit me with whatever you want. I can afford it.” He extends his arms out to the side as if saying do-you-know-who-the-fuck-I-am.

You scoffed, eyeing him up and down, “I don’t want to work.”

“Done.”

“I want to be a housewife.”

“Done.”

“I want different color Lamborghinis to match my moods for the day.”

“Done.”

“I want a private chef. I want to be carried everywhere.”

“Done and done.”

You two stayed silent, looking at each other with a serious look before bursting into laughter. The laughter you two created sounded like the most beautiful music to your ears. You loved having these silly moments with him.

While the laughter subsided, San places his hands on each side of your head, leaning forward. ”Y/N,” He says, your hands slide up and down his muscular arms. “Let’s just do it, huh? We can go and get married,” He places a kiss on your lips, tucking some of your hair behind your ear, “we can have six kids-“

“Six?! The fuc-“ you cut him off with widen eyes, raising both of your eyebrows.

“They will have your sparkling eyes, your beautiful smile,” he cuts you off, ignoring you which caused you to roll your eyes, “they can have my nose, maybe my eyebrows or ears. We can raise them the best we can, we can put them sports, watch them get married, travel when they all leave the house, be the best grandparents ever-“ he cuts himself off as he clears his throat, feeling a bit saddened, but you’re too distracted by his story to catch onto it. “We can grow old together and be buried next to each other. With that, we stay together forever.”

You cup his cheek, “Seems like you got this all figured out, huh?” You smiled at him. “How did a girl like me get so lucky?”

“Oh, baby,” he said in a matter of factly tone, “With me you won’t have to think or worry about anything.” He smirked at you, grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on it.

There was a moment of silence as you two looked into each other’s eyes all in love. But then San got off of you which made you confused as you furrowed your eyebrows. “San? What are you doing?” You asked him, confused by his actions as his back faces you.

You sit up and sat in the middle of the bed, about to reach out of him but took your hand back abruptly when you saw San turning around and giving you a serious look. He suddenly gets down on one knee. “Y/N,” he said in a serious tone, causing you to cover your face as you fell back laughing, “San, what are you doing?” You asked him as you sat back up with a huge shock smile on your face.

“Y/N,” he repeats again. He inhales and exhales, closing his eyes before looking back into your eyes. “Baby the second my eyes laid on you, my heart knew that you were the one I wanted to spend forever with. I want to wake up and have your eyes be the first thing and the last thing I see. There aren’t enough words to describe the love I have for you.”

You feel yourself getting teary eyed as you scoff out a smile, not believing that he is doing this. “I know, I don’t have a ring right now, but trust me when I say that when I do get it, it will have the biggest gem that represents the immense love I have for you.” He said watching you sniff up your tears. “Will you marry me? Because I don’t want to do life without you.”

You gasped at his words, crying for a few moments before sniffing up your runny nose as you used the back of your hand to wipe your falling tears, “San,” your voice cracks out, as you placed a hand on your chest. “Yes!” You breathed out a smile, “Yes, I will marry you.”

He finally exhales a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “Yes?” He asks you as he broke out into the biggest smile ever and you nodded quickly, “Yes, San, yes.” You repeated as he helped you stand up.

He picked up, you instantly wrapped your legs around his waist as he spins you both around in his arms. You leaned your forehead against his, “You scared me,” he said, “What took you so long in answering!”

You kissed his pout, “I’m sorry,” you laughed, “I had to make sure. You know I’m expensive.” You joked.

He gives you a deadpan look, “Really?” He said in a monotone voice causing you to burst out into laughter as you leaned your forehead against his again, cupping his face, “No, my idiot. I just couldn’t believe this was happening. I’m going to marry my soulmate. I’ve never been more sure in my life.”

“You’re the one for me,” he said looking into your eyes. If you weren’t so high from the moment, you could’ve sworn there was sadness in his eyes. “I just- I don’t want to wait anymore.” He cleared his throat, “You’re the one for me, Y/N.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he repeated himself.

After a minute, he clears his throat, “Now,” he says as he tosses you on the bed causing you to yell in shock as you sit up and give him a glare. He takes off his shirt and throws it somewhere behind him as he spreads your legs, ignoring the pissed off look you have with a smirk on his face, “Should we start with baby number one? Or will we get lucky and have triplets first round?”

“San-“ he cuts you with the smirk still etched on his face as he kissed you. He knew damn well you were gonna bring up the topic of six kids, but that’s for another time. Right now, he wants to cherish this moment with you. Just one last time.

You hated how easily he captivated you and how easy he had you under his finger. Without trying to break contact with you, his hand struggles to turn off the light as he taps everything but the switch. He groans in frustration as he sits up and slams the stupid button off causing you to laugh at his impatience. Finally, the light was off.

As he leans back down kissing you, he is mentally tattooing everything about you throughout the night—your lips, your melodic sounds, your breathing, your heartbeat, your gentle and rough touches, your curves— Just everything before it was time.

—

It was late at night as San stood near the bed, watching you sleep. He was dressed in all black, prepared to leave but not before he says goodbye to you. The sheer curtains let the moonlight seep in, casting on your face. The light snores you made were music to his ears. It cause him to gently chuckle bittersweetly as tears blurred his vision.

He remembered all the times you argued with him saying that he was liar, telling him that you don’t snore. It hurt knowing this would be last time hearing them— last time seeing you.

He slowly and gently takes steps to you, leaning down as he removes a few strand of hair from your face. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he whispers to you, “I have to go.” He kisses your forehead gently, “I love you so, so much.”

He stiffed up a bit when he saw you stirring in your sleep but exhaled in relief when you stopped and went back to your light snores. He glanced at the clock on your night stand and read 3:00AM. It’s about that time. He looks down as he felt his tears coming in, “Please forgive me.” He pleads quietly, sniffing as he looks at you. “I’ll be back.”

One last kiss on the forehead and he slowly gets up and walks to the door. And just like a switch, he walked down the hall, sniffing up those tears as he moved his head side to side, cracking his neck as a more serious, deadly look appeared on his face as he disappeared from the apartment and into the night.

—

Ugh, you really have to change those sheer curtains that blocks absolutely nothing because right now the morning sun was shinning right in your eyes, stirring you awake. You leaned on your back, one arm covering your eyes while the other reached out to touch San but was met with a cold, empty side.

Eyes still covered, you moved your hand around to try and find his body but let’s be real, this was no California King size bed. Either he fell off the bed or simply, he isn’t here. You removed your arm from your eyes and turned to the side and confirmed that he wasn’t there.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you slowly sat up, bringing the blanket to cover your bare chest. “San?” You called out to him. Maybe he’s in the living room. You waited for a response but nothing.

You sighed as you removed the blanket off your body, shivering slightly from cool air as goosebumps formed on your skin. Maybe he didn’t hear me. You grabbed your shirt from off the floor, putting it on as you walked to the living room. “Sannie?” But you were met with an empty living room—an empty apartment.

You removed your tucked hair from your shirt as you pursed your lips, crossing your arms, “This man is going to be the death of me.” You didn’t think much of it—well, kind of— San does this all the time. Whether it was for work or hanging out with friends— whatever it may be, it was normal for him to do. Yes, you have gotten into multiple arguments over it. Yes, he says he will try. But there are times that he forgets to tell you—like today.

You walked back into the room grabbing your phone, unplugging it from the charger as you tapped on the screen but no notifications. “Really?” You sucked the back of your front teeth, feeling annoyed as you shook your head. You unlocked your phone and dialed his number, running a hand through your hair as you hear the dialing tone.

“The number you have dialed-“ you sighed in annoyance as you hung up the call, opening your messages. ‘Thanks for letting me know that you were leaving :)’ and a ‘call me when you can. Love you asshole.” You sent to him, but it came back as message failed. Great, now his phone died.

You threw your phone on bed, “Whatever.” You say as you walked out the room and headed to the bathroom as you started to get ready for the day. Another great thing about San is that he is not the most dependable with his phone. His phone is either dead or lost between the sofa cushions. He truly can’t pick a struggle.

But you know what, at the end of the day you love him and all his aggravating faults, no matter how many times you want to strangle him. That’s your fiancé. Indeed it is. And it has you smiling like an idiot as you brushed your teeth, looking at your reflection. You guess you’ll keep him.

—

As the day went on, it was still radio silent on San’s part. You kept checking, calling, texting but it was to no avail. San may be dumb when it comes to how he handles his phone and where he’s going and whatnot but he never fails to call you and let you know where he’s at or how he’s doing—even if that means calling from a strangers phone. Yes, you were confused that one time a random ass number kept calling you.

You couldn’t help but get this feeling that something is wrong, so here you are pulling up to his job and checking to see if he’s there. You parked and inhaled and exhaled, keeping the nerves at bay as you grabbed your things and headed out of your car.

‘The Tire Shop’ came into view as you made your way to the door. Maybe he’s busy and you’ll forgive him for now and yell at him later. As soon as you opened the door, you winced a bit at the car drill radiating throughout the shop as you looked at the men working on cars.

You watched as a man passed by you, rolling at tire to a car he’s fixing on, having the smell of oil and sweat fill up your nostrils. You gripped your purse strap as you looked around to spot if San was talking with someone or working on a car but nothing.

You were too caught up scanning for San that you didn’t even notice an older gentleman approaching you. “Ma’am?” He calls to your attention as he wipes his hands on a dirty rag, removing excess grease. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Oh, sorry,” you chucked nervously, stepping a bit closer to him. “Yes. I’m looking for someone. Is San working today? Did he come in?” You asked.

He tilted his head to the side, giving you his ear as he gets a bit closer to you as the drill goes off again, “I’m sorry. Who?” He yelled through the sound, eyebrows furrowed.

“San. Choi San.” You repeated a bit louder, leaning in slightly to his ear. “H-Have you seen him?” You stuttered a bit, feeling nervous.

“Choi San?” He repeated with confusion in his tone, tilting his head in confusion. “I’m sorry but nobody of that name works here.” He said shaking his head, tucking in the dirty rang in his back pocket.

You froze, feeling your blood go cold. You let out a nervous laugh, “That’s impossible,” you said reaching into your purse and showing your lock screen. “He’s been working here for five years.” The man squints his eyes, adjusting his poor vision to see the photo of San. “Are you sure?” You asked him in disbelief.

He nods his head. “I’m sure, ma’am.” But seeing the desperation in your face, he sighs turning around to yell out to one of his coworker. The coworker stops and gives him a stank face of what-do-you-want? The man asks him if he’s heard of a Choi San working here but the coworker just shook his head, getting back to work.

“Well, there you have it. Is there anything else I can help you with today?” The gentleman asked you as your heart dropped.

—

You slammed that door open as you rushed out, fumbling with your car keys in hand as you made your way to the car. You slammed your car door shut as you gripped onto the steering wheel, “What the fuck is going on?” You asked yourself, with a shaky breath, hearing a high pitch ringing in your ears.

You looked at your purse that was still clinging onto your arm. You quickly opened it, rummaging through it as you searched for your phone, messing up password multiple times as you rushed to unlock it making you groan in frustration.

“Come on come on.” You whispered to yourself as you dialed his number waiting for him to pick up but it went straight to voicemail. “Fuck!” You screamed out as you threw your phone on the dashboard.

You leaned your face into your hands, feeling anger and confusion swimming in your mind. Are you going insane? What the fuck does this man mean that he’s never heard of a Choi San? You start to get flashbacks of when you dropped him off, him literally coming out of the shop, having lunch with him right outside on the benches— Just what in the fuck is going on?

Fuck this. You backed out and drove to the police station. You knew San like that back of your hand. From small details such as calling or texting, even if he doesn’t do it in the moment, he NEVER forgets. And now you’re being told that he has never worked there? For the past five years? Bullshit. Something bad is happening and you sure as hell aren’t going to waste anymore time.

—

You were spaced out thinking about the whereabouts of San as you sat in-front of a desk, waiting for an officer. You gnawed on your lower lip, bouncing your leg rapidly from the nerves. “Miss Y/N?” Your head snapped to the side to see a female officer approaching you with a comforting smile and water.

You stood up and shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Officer Lee.” She gestures to the seat you were in, “Please, sit.” She places the cup in front of you, mumbling a thank you to her as you took a sip of water.

“Thank you so much for meeting with me.” You tell her as you adjust yourself in the seat. “I just didn’t know what else to do and I just- I don’t-“ you felt overwhelmed, losing your words.

She reaches over the table and places a comforting hand on yours. “It’s okay. You did the right thing by coming here.” She smiles once more, removing her hand to grab a pen and opening her notepad. “Why don’t we break down your day today. From when you woke up to now.”

You nodded as you inhaled and exhale. You quickly got to work. You told her how you woke up and he wasn’t home, how he’s basically irresponsible with his phone, how his job all of a sudden tells you that he doesn’t work there. You also mentioned every single detail of San. From his hair to physique, his full name, date of birth, no family, all of his habits, photos of him—you didn’t even forget to mention how just last night he proposed to you.

Throughout this Officer Lee was jotting down everything you told her, asking some questions to expand on certain things. “And that’s everything I know.” You sighed in exhaustion, sniffing as you wiped some tears with tissue paper.

“It was perfect. You gave us all information possible to make this a clear and proper search.” She nodded as you as she closes her notepad and placing her pen down. “I know this is tough for you, but I can assure you that we will do our best to figure out what happened.”

You faced down with your eyes closed. “What if I’m being dramatic? But at the same time what if something happened to him? I just don’t know-“

“Listen to me,” She cuts you off. “You know San better than anyone. If you feel that something is off then something must be off, okay? Plus, one doesn’t suddenly not work at a place he’s been at for five years.” You sniffed and nodded at her.

She stands up, which causes you to also stand up, adjusting your purse on your shoulder. “In the meantime, go home and continue with your regular routine. I know it’s easier said than done, but please try. We will handle the rest and keep you updated.”

You nodded and shook her hand once more. “Thank you so much Officer Lee.” You tell her. “I very much appreciate it.” And with that you made your way out the station, pushing the door as you stepped out into the breezy night. You entered your car and leaned your head back, feeling a sob coming out once more. Where did you go, San?

—

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months since you last saw San. Every single day you call the police to get an update but it was the same fucking vague answers. It’s as if they rehearsed the same lines over and over just for you. You felt as if you were past the point of insanity.

All you just want to know is if San was alive or not. You just want to know if there was a single trace of him anywhere in this damn world— just something. All you just wanted a peace of mind.

Here you go again, on the phone with Officer Lee, who quite literally has the patience of an angel with the way you be calling everyday—some days with more attitude than usual. “Miss Y/N, as I have said before,” she sighed, “I don’t have anything. I will call you when-“

“When you have an update.” You finished the sentence with her. Today, you just so happen to have that attitude. “I know. I just-“ you cut yourself off as you sighed and rubbed your forehead, walking back and forth in your living room.

“I just want to know if you found anything. Even is that anything is so small, I don’t care. Just anything please.” You begged her. “Like why would he lie to me for the past five years about his job? Why would he propose to me and envision this life with me only for him to leave?” You asked her on the verge of tears, exhaling a shaky breath.

These are all the same questions you’ve been asking her for months. You sound like a broken record at this point, but what can you do? You never thought this would happen to you. Deep down you know the only one who can truly answer this was Choi San.

Officer Lee rubs her forehead, staying silent as she listens to you. She too feels heartbroken for you. “I’m sorry.” You whimpered out, sniffing. “I’m just desperate. I feel like I’m going insane. It’s been months and there’s no update. I don’t know what to do with my life anymore.” You vented to her, feeling your heart slowly break apart.

There was a long, long pause on the phone as you cried. Just as soon as you were going to ask if she was still there— she spoke. “Y/N, listen to me and listen closely because this will be the only time I will be mentioning this.” Officer Lee looks at her surroundings and figures there’s too many people so she heads to a vacant stairway.

You froze at her words. Her tone sounded completely different. “I’m not allowed to speak about this, but I can’t keep letting you live like this.” You froze at her words, “There is no record of Choi San.”

You opened your mouth but no words came out feeling completely confused as you shook your head in confusion. “A few months back, I was able to find something on him. Just a small trace of his location. He was seen walking around town, nothing too suspicious. But,” she pauses. You feel your heartbeat in your throat, “the following day when I went to check the video surveillance once more, it was gone. Wiped off. When I went to search him up, it said that there was no record of Choi San.“ She said. “It’s as if he never existed.”

Your heart dropped, you felt the room spinning. “Wh-What?” You managed to let out, “As if he ever existed?” You repeated her words in disbelief. “What? Why would anyone do that? Why would that even happen?”

Officer Lee looks up the stairs to check if anyone was coming and below before leaning her back on the wall. “Can I tell you something?” She whispered into the phone. She can sense the overwhelming feeling of hurt and confusion.

You closed your eyes, feeling tears falling down your face. You bit your lips, nodding even though she couldn’t see you. “Yes?” You answered quietly, feeling your fear taking over.

“As someone who has been working in this industry for a long time, it can only mean one thing,” she says, “this man was involved in something very dangerous.” You felt your knees give up as you held onto the sofa. “Whoever this Choi San is, he disappeared for a reason.”

“Who is he? What has been done?” You asked frantically, feeling the hairs stand behind your neck. Who did I lie in bed with?

She shook her head. “I don’t know.” She sounded defeated. Truthfully, she did not know. She knew that this was not the first time someone has just up and disappeared off the Earth. She knows that there are some evil deals made behind closed doors with the police department.

“Why would he do to me then? What am I supposed to do?” You asked her choking out a sob as you angrily wiped that tears off your face.

“If I were you, I would leave.” She said serious. You were taken aback. “Y/N, you don’t know this man. He is not the man you thought you knew. Trust me. Please. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened.”

You felt numb at this point. What else can come in and ruin your life at this point? “I will call you if I have find something. Until then, please take care of yourself.” And with that you heard the hang up tone, leaving you alone once again.

You stood there in silence, dropping your arm down along with the phone. The sound of the phone hitting the floor rang in your ears. San? Dangerous? No. It can’t be. All of these thoughts rapidly came at you at once, making it seem like a million of voices are in your head.

Soon everything just went blank and something within you snapped. You went to the fireplace and hand swipe everything off the counter, screaming in anger. You cried in misery as you grabbed a picture frame and chucked it to the wall, watching the glass shatter at the impact.

You swiped everything off your dining table, flipping the table in frustration. His absence only worsen the betrayal you felt within your fucking bones. You stood in the middle of the living room starting to laugh. Laughing hysterically as tears dwelled in your eyes.

Everything you knew for the past five years was a lie. A waste of time. Your laughter subsided to agony as you fell to your knees, unable to control this painful heartache. You sobbed uncontrollably as you clutched onto your chest wanting to take this unbearable pain out of your heart.

Fucking San? A dangerous man? The same idiot who was afraid of flipping food over because he was afraid of the hot oil? The same idiot who would drink water from his hands because he was lazy to get a cup? The same idiot who wanted to raise a family with you? No. This can’t be happening.

You leaned forward, placing your hands on the floor as you leaned on them for support as your body shook from your cries. It hits you in that moment if he knew what he was asking when he asked you to runaway. All that you envisioned is gone, just like him.

—

It’s later in the night, and you’re in your kitchen drunkenly stumbling on your tippy toes as you kept your balance to reach into the top cabinet for yet another wine bottle. You finally reached it, popping open the bottle and pouring more in your glass. You take a sip as you close your eyes, feeling this temporary relief soak up in you.

You grabbed the bottle and turned to face the living room, eying the mess you created earlier. You’ll deal with it later, you thought to yourself as you took another sip, walking through the mess as you headed straight to your room.

You sat on your floor staring into the open closet with swollen, bloodshot eyes. You took a sip feeling your eyelids getting heavy from the crying and the alcohol. You placed the cup down, grabbing the bottle and poured some more wine without taking your sight off his side the closet.

Judging from how you heard the cup filling up to the brim, you stopped and placed the bottle down. You sighed as you licked your lips. Well, might as well start moving his shit out. You drunkenly got on your knees and crawled to the closet and sat on your knees.

You reached up and yanked off one of his shirts from the hanger, watch it swing from the harsh pull. You brought the material up to your nose, inhaling it. Though your nose maybe be stuffy from the crying, his scent was so strong. You bring it up to your cheek, wishing it was his touch— his warmth.

You opened your eyes to a blurred vision. No, no tears right now. You turned around and reached to grab your drink and took a few sips before placing it back down. You slowly stood up, feeling the liquor rushing down your legs as it controls your movements. Let’s start with something different.

You reached out to the top of the closet shelve, getting on your tippy toes and grabbed a stack full of boxes and miscellaneous things. But with your wobbly drunken self, and horrible grip, you ended up dropping it on the floor, causing you to yelp out as you moved back.

You opened your eyes and looked down to see that you spilled your drink and broken the glass, “Oh, great.” You pursed your lips, “Glad to see that I’m not the only one broken.” You say, making a half-assed joke. You sighed as you got on your knees and collected some of the big pieces. Thankfully your floor is carpet, all you have to do is wet-vac it.

You started to dry off some of his things but was stopped when you saw a black briefcase with a gold lock embedded on it. “What is this?” You furrowed your eyebrows as you grabbed it and used your hands to take off some of the wine droplets.

You sat comfortable and brought it the case closer for you to examine the lock. It was a four digit code. You grabbed your wine bottle, taking a big swig of it before you went to work on this lock. You bit your lower lip in concentration as you tried multiple combinations.

Shit, you even did the good ole 1, 2, 3, 4. Now listen, in your defense, while on one hand you can kill San, or whoever that man is right now, you always laughed at him for having the most basic password ever—to which he would get offended each time. So you couldn’t help but try it out at least one time.

But, man, you were stumped. Plus it doesn’t help that you were drunk so give yourself some slack. You take a sip and groaned out loud, “What could it even be..” you thought out. You then gasp as you quickly grabbed the case and placed in those four digits. Your birthday. And with that, it clicks open.

You scoffed out a smile, “Really?” Of course he would. “Stop it.” You scolded yourself, shaking your head at yourself. You exhaled, trying to calm the nerves. You slowly opened it, eyes widening at the sight of documents. But these weren’t just regular documents— these were gang afflicted documents.

Your drunken eyes roaming all over, you grabbed the papers out and stacked them, pushing the briefcase to the side. You then start to spread out the documents in front of you, eyes widening as they captured specific words.

You get on your knees as you further spread them out. You then fall back on your knees and parted your mouth in shock at the view in front of you. These documents were filled with gruesome attacks of people, some described chilling events that took place, plans of ambushes, details reports of deaths— you felt sick. What you take notice is that whoever wrote all of this, must’ve been so numb to the brutal killings that were executed.

You then notice a familiar signature at the bottom of the paper. “Oh my god..” you cover your mouth in shock. It was his signature. He did this. You dropped the paper and picked up the previous papers to only confirm what you had in mind. All of them had his signature. He did all of this.

You then turn to the side and saw orange envelope that was filled with what you could imagine more information. You grabbed it and opened it, but dropped it as you turned to the side feeling as if you were going to throw up. You coughed as you felt your throat closing up as you leaned on your hands for support as you hunched over.

“Oh, what the fuck!” You coughed out. Never in your life did you expect to see most nastiest, gruesome photos of bodies. You laid in bed with a freaking monster. You ran a hand through your hair as you looked back the photos you dropped.

You panted heavy as you picked a photo with San standing in the center as men surrounded him all shirtless. You looked closely and saw a snake tattoo that started on their ribs and to their chest. You then had a memory come in when you asked San about his tattoo but he shook his head saying it was nothing, how he thought it was cool when he was younger.

The look casted on San’s face was a rough looking demeanor that contradicts the San you knew—but then again everything did. You dropped your hand with the photograph still in your grasp as you spaced out for a second trying to process everything.

Officer Lee was right. You just didn’t want to believe it. You looked down as took in the gruesome that were spread out. You saw all the violence San created—all the blood, guts, chopped off body parts, one with San smiling over a body. You couldn’t contain it anymore and struggled your way to the bathroom, having the walls be your support as you made it to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet.

You can’t believe what your life has become.

—

PRESENT TIME, 5 YEARS LATER

"Alright, my little munchkins," Your voice full of warmness, "It's almost time to go home, let's start cleaning up!" You say to your first grade students as they in unison yelled out "Okay!" You heard the little chairs squeak against the floor as they got up preparing to leave.

They chatted amongst themselves as they worked together. You moved through the room, helping and guiding them when they had questions on where certain things go. As years have passed, you slowly rebuilt your life. You took joy in being a Pre-K teacher. The laughter and smiles from the kids help shed some light in the darkness that was roaming around you.

The kids eagerly grabbed their backpacks and jacket, helping some as you made some jokes with them causing them to giggle. They were filled with excitement knowing it was time to go home as they bounced in a file line by the door. You opened the doors seeing parents waiting outside.

One by one you watched as they left, the crowd of students getting smaller and smaller. You sighed as you closed your classroom door, stretching your neck. You organized the classroom some more, pushing in chairs, sweeping the floor, collecting left over materials and putting them in their respective place.

Finally, time to go home and shower the day off. You grabbed your purse, turned off the light and headed out the room. You lock your class room door and sighed as you take your hair out of the tight ponytail, running a hand through it.

For some reason you felt someone looking at you which made you look across the street to see a man all dressed in black standing still as he looked at you. You slowly subsided your steps, looking at this figure but with the sun and tall silver fence that wrapped around the school, it was hard to adjust on the face.

You watched as they slowly walked away, your gaze never leaving them until they are fully gone from your view. Well, that was fucking weird, you thought to yourself as you picked up the pace to your car, looking behind you every few seconds.

—

For five years you have done all that you could to forget Choi San and started anew. You blocked out everything you two shared. The memories, the empty promises, the relationship you two had—everything. You packed up your shit, got rid of everything that was San’s, and moved states. You changed your number, email, deleted any form of social media and accounts— you name it and it was gone.

To say you weren’t terrified would be a bold ass lie. You were petrified of the things San has done. Most importantly, what he could do to you. You were scared of him finding you. When you feel yourself slipping up, yearning for his love or him, you remind yourself of the deadly things this man did. He has no right to stay in your heart.

But we digressed. You slide the shower curtain open causing the steam to swirl around from your sudden movement. You bring your hair to the side, wringing out the excess water, and then slowly stepped of the tub carefully to not lose your balance. You dragged the towel off the rack and pat your self dry before wrapping it around you.

Tucking the excess at the top to make sure the towel doesn’t fall, you walked to your mirror and hand wiped the fog off. You started off with your nightly routine, wanting to just go to bed from all the exhaustion you had today. But just then as you spat out your toothpaste, you heard a faint creaking of wood in your living room.

You looked at the door and froze, feeling your heart quicken a bit at the sound. Maybe it was the upstairs neighbors. You shook your head as you opened the faucet and wiped the corners of your mouth. Maybe I just made the sound up.

But then the creaking noise comes back. You turned off the faucet, gently placing your ear and hands against the door, waiting for it once more. It’s silent—but you aren’t taking any chances.

You slowly pushed yourself off the door and crouched down to your sink cabinet. You quietly opened it and reached in and grabbed the gun that was attached to the roof of the cabinet. When you moved, you decided to arm yourself as a form of protection.

You stood up and cocked the gun back. Your free hand wrapped around the door knob, inhaling and exhaling before slowly opening it. The creaking of the door opening added to the eeriness of the silence. Goosebumps formed on your skin as a gush of cool air from the hallway hits your skin.

You raised the gun up while your other hand supported it from underneath as you walked down the hall. The mist leaving the bathroom was conforming with the fresh air, disappearing behind you as you made your way down the hallway. Your steps thudded as you got closer, faint sounds of water droplets from your hair coming in contact with the floor.

You quickly turned the corner, scanning the living room as the gun followed your eye movements. Your breathing filled up your ears as your eyes moved quickly to every shadow or movement you suspected was something, which only added to your adrenaline.

Then finally, the creaking noise made your ears twitch and this time it was clear where it was coming from. You pointed the gun to the kitchen, tightening the grip. “Show yourself.” You commanded, voice full of anger.

Soon a man slowly emerges from the dark shadows with his hands up. Your eyes widened for a second but you kept your composure, “Who are you?” A slight shaky tone gave away the fear coursing in your body. All you saw was his body as the darkness covered his face.

Slowly he dropped his hands, standing still. “Answer me.” You demanded, heart beating up to your ears.

And with that he takes a step forward and with one look at the face, everything comes crumbling down. “S-San?” You gasped in disbelief, eyes widening at the sight of him, mouth parting.

“Y/N,” he said in a low voice. Oh my god. “It’s me.” It’s really him. The voice you longed to hear after five years. The person you missed desperately. The person who was your forever. He held his gaze with yours as he walked to you.

You felt your arms slowly dropping as you stood in shock. You couldn’t believe he’s here face to face. You want to hold him—wait— “Don’t fucking move.” You tell him as you quickly regained your composure. He freezes at your words. He is not the person you thought you knew.

“Y/N,” his voice broke, eyes full of sorrow. “Please. I know I fucked up.” He tries taking a step forward. Fucked up is an understatement.

“Don’t fucking move!” You yell at him, taking a step forward, gun pointed at him causing him to take a step back. “I’ll shoot you.” You tell him.

His eyes widen at your words. “Y/N,” he whispers as tears start dwelling in his eyes. “I know you’re upset, but please let me explain-“

“Upset?” You cut him off with a humorless laugh. “You fucking asshole. You ruined me! You hurt me in ways I didn’t even know was possible.” You spat at him. “You left me. No— You disappeared. Come to find out you’re nothing but a sick piece of inhumane shit murderer.”

“Let me explain, Y/N. It’s not what you think.” He tells you as he takes a step forward to you. His heart drops at the way you look at him. He knows the damage he has done. He knows that it might be late to salvage whatever is left but he would be damn if he gives up to easily.

The two of you moved around in circles in your living room. Him wanting to hold you, to feel your warmth and to explain everything but you wanting nothing to do with him as you moved away from him. His voice broke as he spoke, “Baby, please-“

“Don’t!” You cut him off, feeling the hot tears falling down your cheeks. “Don’t call me that. You don’t get to show up five years later and try to make up for all the bullshit you put me through.” You tell him as you two finally stopped moving.

You watched as he cried, looking in pain. “Leave. Never come back. You’re five years too late, asshole. I want nothing from you.” You tell him angrily. There was a pause of works between you two, all you could hear was the cries. Your vision blurred by your tears as you stared into his regretful eyes.

San couldn’t contain it anymore. He walks up to you, making you gasp in shock as you walked backwards, bumping into the wall arms still extended out. You felt a slight push from the gun when its cold metal was pressed on his chest. “I have killed men.” He starts to explain what you saw in the photos. “Those men you saw in the photos have done most vile, disgusting things to people. Things that would keep you up at night.” He whispers at the end.

He clears his throat, “Let me explain,” he pleads. “Let me explain and then I’ll leave. I’ll do whatever you ask of me but please, Y/N…”

You fucking trembled as you let out a sob. He sighs in relief as he raised his hands, enclosing them on yours as he gently removed the gun from your hands. You don’t even fight it, you just hug yourself. He removes the ammo and cocks back the gun watching the bullet jump out, dropping the gun to the floor.

The thud made you jump back, wishing the wall would engulf you and would disappear. Slowly he raised his hands to your shoulders, causing you to look away in fright. You swallowed your nerves as you stiffened a bit, feeling his hands rising up to cup your face, making you turn to face him.

He leans his forehead on yours, sliding his hands from your face down your arms, grabbing your hands and bringing them to his lips as he pressed gentle kisses on your knuckles. He places your hands on his cheeks and leans into your touch, let out a shaky sigh of relief. Enjoying your warmth, missing your touch.

You stood there as you took in his gentle gestures. No matter how much you tried to deny it, you fucking missed him. You missed everything so much, but can’t fall for this. You removed your hands from his touch and looked at him in anger. He fucking left you.

You shoved his chest with all your force, watching him stumble backwards. He looked at you in shock. There was a moment of silence before you walked up to him and started pounding him on his chest, hitting him as you released everything you’ve been suppressing for the past five years.

“How could you do this to me?!” You screamed at him. “Who the fuck are you? Why would you come into my life if you were just going to disappear?” He stood there, taking it from you knowing that he deserves this and more.

You slapped him so hard across the face, making him almost lose his balance. “Okay,” he said groaning out in pain as he adjusted his jaw, feeling that burning sensation. “I deserved that.”

You shoved him once more. “I gave you everything.” You told him, panting heavily. “I fucking loved you. You were my everything. We were going to get married and have this life together.” You cried to him. You placed your hands on your head, feeling as if you were going crazy, “I just want to know why.” You shook your head, “Why, San?”

“Baby,” he tells you and you just close your eyes not wanting to hear the pet name he had for you. “I-“ he tried finding the words. “I was involved in something that I never, ever wanted you to find out. I know, sounds hypocritical considering you found the documents and pictures and for that I’m sorry. I genuinely forgot to take the case because- because-“ he sighs as he shakes his head, cutting himself off to change the topic.

You stayed quiet as you looked at him. He sniffed, “I have done terrible, terrible things.” You watched as he looks down and then back up to you, “But I had no choice.” He tells you as he got closer to you, grabbing your hands as he brings them to his lips once more “Part of what I did was something I needed to do in order to get out.” He places a kiss on your hands, looking at you. “In order to be with you.”

You wanted to stay silent. You didn’t want to know but your curiosity betrayed you, “What-“ you let out a shaky breath, “What did you have to do?” You said quietly.

He leans his forehead on your hands, not being able to look at you when he confesses. “In order to get out—to show my loyalty to them and to prove I was done with that life— I had to kill very important people.”

You took your hands from his grasp and looked to the side as you covered your mouth, not being able to look at him. “Oh my god.” You whimpered out.

“Baby, please, it was the only way for me to get out of this life that I didn’t even want to be to begin with.” He says, searching for your eyes. “But that was the only way for me to survive. Once I was in, there was no easy way out.”

He cups your face and wipes your tears, “But when I saw you,” he lets out chuckle with tears streaming down, “I’ll never forget when I first laid my eyes on you. I knew from the bottom of my heart I wanted to be with you,” he looked into your eyes, “I did what I did to be with you. I would do it a thousand times over for you. Because I love you.”

You closed your eyes, whimpering as he kept going on. “I left because I wanted to live a free life from all that shit. I left because I wanted to live in peace with you. Listen,” he cups your face, making you look directly at him, “the men I killed deserved all I did. They have hurt innocent people. Woman, children, Y/N, they don’t care who it was. Scumbags like that deserved to be punished.”

He fell to knees, placing gentle tender kisses on your thighs. “I was so, so afraid of losing you that I hid everything from you. I fucked up for not telling you but I was just trying to protect you.” He cries out as he leans his forehead on your thighs.

He wraps his arms around your legs, “I’m so sorry Y/N. I’m so sorry for leaving you. I’m so sorry for all the misery I have caused you. I promise you, I was done. But-” he fumbled with his words, “But someone informed me that they were looking for me to get revenge. To get back at me for all I did to those people.”

He looks up at you, “And I just—… I could never live with myself if they killed you.So I decided to just leave and disappear before they found you with me.” He caresses the back of your thighs as he leaned his forehead once more on your thighs. “I thought it would be better this way. I paid off the men at my job to lie to you if you showed up. I threw my phone away. I had all of my records cleared off the database. I just couldn’t risk anyone having single link of you from me. ”

Your sobs filled the room as you take in all his words. This man who went from your lover to a stranger to now you being conflicted. You watched as he stood up, cupping your face once more. “For the past five years, I never once let you out my sight.” He confesses.

It then hits you. “Was that you today?” You asked him and he nodded.

“It fucking broke me watching you from the distance but please, Y/N, understand it was for your protection.” He tells you.

You held onto his wrists, “San,” you licked your lips as you closed your eyes. “I just- I don’t know what to think or what to do.” You sniffed as you opened your eyes and looked at him. “Why now? Why now after all these years did you decide to come back?“

“I’m free,” he whispered to you, “I took care of everything.” He tells you and you felt a shiver go down your spine as you gulped. “Listen to me, they deserved it.” You remove his hands, feeling sick as you remembered the photos and documents.

He sighs in defeat. “Y/N, the things they have done to others,” he shakes his head, “it’s indescribable. What I did to them isn’t even half of what they have done.” That makes you feel even more in shock. Those photos and detailing was already horrible enough, you can’t imagine what they did to others.

You looked at the floor thinking. Does it kind of make you feel better that San basically did justice in killing bad guys? You don’t know. Are you trying to make an excuse? You don’t know. But one thing is certain, you were afraid. You looked at him as you let out a shaky breath, “Would you ever… hurt me?” You hesitantly asked him.

You saw as his face broke at your question. His heart dropped at your words. “What?” He whispered out. “I would never, ever do such a thing to you. You’re the love of my life. The reason I woke up and did what I did for the past five years just so I can be with you again. Y/N you changed me for the better.” He grabs your hand and placed it on his chest. “This is for you.” He says as you feel his heart beat, insinuating that it beats for you and only you.

“The man you saw in the photos and read in the documents that’s not me anymore. I gave up that life for you. I wanted to change for you. I love you, Y/N, believe that.” He pulls you to him as he cups your face once more.

You planned to never see San ever again in your life. As a matter of fact you wanted to kill him if he ever came across your way. But now listening to him and him explaining, granted he needs more explains to do, you can’t help but fucking want him again in your life. You fucking missed him.

You let out a whimper. “San,” you say, “I hate you so much. I hate that I missed you. I hate that I still love you.” You squeezed his wrists. San lets out a sad chuckle at your word, “I hate myself too. I hate for leaving you and for hurting you.”

You softly hit his chest once as you cried, not having any strength left in your body. You looked up at him, “Are you going to leave me again?” You asked him with tears in your eyes, in a broken voice that was full of pain.

He leans his forehead on yours, “Never. I will never leave you again.” You felt his rough hands roaming up and down your arms, giving you goosebumps. You bit your lower lip—fuck. It’s as if nothing has changed for the past five years. You just give into him so easily.

You looked into his eyes, love and lust swirling around. “Please,” he said lowly, as he wiped your tears with his thumbs, “Let me take care of you tonight.” He places a kiss below your ear, “Let me show you how sorry I am.” He trails kisses down your neck, “How much I’ve missed you.” He hovers his lips over yours.

You let out a sigh of satisfaction from his touches. You slightly nodded as you looked into his eyes. He leans in and captures your lips, you melted into his touch. He wasted no time in picking you up causing you to wrap your legs around him.

You gently tugged his hair as the kiss started to heat up. He glided a hand up your back, tugging your head back by your hair as he trails kisses down your neck to your collarbone. You let out a moan when he starts sucking on that sweet spot. You look back down to him and kissed him again.

“Mmm, where is the room?” He broke the kiss, panting slightly as he catches his breath. “Down the hall.” You whispered, panting as well.

—

He burst into the bedroom, both of you still in the heated kiss, closing the door with his leg as he walked and threw you on the bed. “San!” You yelped out in shock. You sat up as you clutched the towel that still covered your body, giving him an angry look as he hovers over you, “Don’t do that shi-“

He cuts you off with a kiss, “I’m sorry, baby.” He whispers to you, gently pushing you to lay back down on the bed, “I’ll be careful, okay?” He whispers in your ear, kissing below it. Bullshit but okay. Nice to know that something’s don’t change.

He sat up as he takes off his shirt, throwing it somewhere behind him as he leans back down to kiss you. You unconsciously roam your hands all over his muscular arms, squeezing them as he grinds his clothes hard member against your bare throbbing, achy pussy.

His lips slowly moves down and stops at the top of your towel. He takes his forefinger and slowly drags it from your lips down to neck and between your breast. He never once took his eyes off you as he slowly unravels your towel. He looked at you as if you were a meal—starving and craving you for the past five years.

He leans down and latches onto your nipple while massaging the other one causing you to arch your back as you clench you pussy onto nothing. He exhaled a sigh of relief through his nose as his tongue flicks your harden nipple. He switches from one breast to the other.

He trails the kisses down your stomach making you inhale and exhale at his trailing wet kisses, making you excited for what’s to come. He gets off the bed, kneeling on the floor between your legs, hooking his arms underneath your legs as he drags you closer to him.

He places your thighs on his shoulders, kissing your inner thighs as he eyes your glistening pussy. His hands caress your thighs up and down. “San, please.” You begged to him, turning your head to the side in desperation as your chest heaves at his actions.

“Shh, baby, just relax.” His hot breath hovers over your throbbing area, making you clench once more. “Let me handle it, okay?” He asks you and watched as you nodded frantically causing him to smirk.

He then sucks on your clit, slightly hollowing his cheeks from the suction as he flicks his tongue on your sensitive bud. You let out a moan as he lays his tongue flat, moving his head up and down. You gripped on his head, using your free one to grip the sheets. The sounds of suction adds to your pleasure.

He reaches over your thighs, spreading your folds wasting no time to fuck you with his tongue. San swears this is the most beautiful state he has seen you in. Screaming as you arch your back, unable to deal with the pleasure as it takes over you.

He moves his tongue in and out your hole, feeling you clench around him. He moves his tongue all around your folds before going back in. He then freed one hand and uses his thumb to rub small circles on your clit. “Shit.” You breathed out turning your head side to side, gasping.

He freed his other hand and sticks in two fingers, curved upward, moving at a medium pace. “O-Oh!” You moaned out, throwing your head back as your mouth parts in delight, “Ri-Right there!” You gripped the pillow on either side of your head.

He continues the rubbing and fingering as he looks at you. His cheeks hurt but he doesn’t fucking care. “I missed you so much baby.” He said in a deep voice, “I’ve dreamt of this everyday for the past five years.”

He places a kiss on your inner thigh. “Can you cum for me?” He asked you before getting back down. He quickens the pace, sucking the lower half of your clit as he uses his thumb to rub the top part rapidly, adding pressure to it.

You screamed out his name as a mantra. “San! San, I’m going to cum!” You said as you looked down at him before throwing your head back. You clamped his head trapped between your thighs, feeling your orgasm building up. You fisted his hair as you breathed heavy.

“Shit! Shit!” You say as you screamed out as you reached your orgasm. All the built up emotions just released in that moment as you felt like you saw stars. You breathed out uncontrollably as he help you ride out your high with his fingers and mouth. Your shaky legs let go of the grip it had on his head as you tried collecting yourself.

He stands up and removes his pants and boxers in one go, watching you all fucked out on the bed. His member was leaking with precum, eager to feel you and to fill you up all deliciously. He hovers of you, getting between your legs, “You okay, baby?” He asks you.

“Yeah,” You breathed out as you lazily wrapped your arms over his neck, “That was amazing.” You lazily smile which caused him chuckle. You pull him to you, kissing him as you tasted yourself on his lips.

He pulls back, “Are you ready?” He asked you. You nodded at him, “Yes.” You whispered, wrapping your legs around his waist. He moves to his hand to align himself, both of you remaining eye contact. You closed your eyes as you feel his tip going in and then him full stretching you out. He drops his head down, feeling the tightness engulf him.

He takes a moment for you both, taking in the sensation. You can’t help but to clench down at him, enjoying this longed for feeling. He slowly starts to thrust back and forth, biting his lower lip. “Oh.” You moaned out in pleasure and a slight stinging pain from the stretching.

He kisses your lips. “You’re doing so good for me, baby.” He comforts you through the slight pain. “Are you gonna take what I give you?” He asked causing you to flutter your eyes open at him.

“Anything you give me, I’ll take it.” You nodded at him. As soon as you gave him the permission, he puts his hands behind your knees, moving them up to the sides of your head. He starts pounding in you causing him to groan out in delight as he closes his eyes, throwing his head back.

The position made you feel his rough thrusts deeper causing you to scream. The bed frame started hitting again the wall from how hard he was going. “You like that baby?” He asked you looking back down at you.

“Ye-Yes-s!” You managed to choke out. Your tits bounced from his actions as you tried finding something to grip onto, feeling overwhelmed. You then let out a gasp when you felt him dropping your legs, turning you to lay on your stomach.

He drags your hips up, quickly inserting himself back in as his hand forces to arch your back. He smacks your ass which makes you moan out, loving the stinging. “Touch yourself for me, baby.” He says. You adjusted yourself on your arm as you reached out and rubbed circles on your clit. The rubbing makes you clench on him, “Fuck,” he moans out, bed creaking underneath you both. “Fucking love when you do that.”

He then grabs a fist of your hair, pulling your head back. You whimpered at the pulling as he smacks your ass again. You whined as you bit your lower lip, loving how his balls smack against your clit. “You’re mine.” He leans down and whispers in your ear, hand sliding to your neck, squeezing it. “All mine.”

“All yours, San.” You say with the little air you have in your body. You then leaned forward when he lets go of you, gasping for air. But you have no time to compose yourself as he turns you around one last time, laying you on your back.

“Cum with me.” He tells you, rapidly thrusting into you. Your hands reached to his back, scratching it deeply as he rubs your clit. His balls hitting your ass as he tries chasing his high, letting out a low groan.

All the sounds from skin slapping to the bed frame legit about to break added to the electrifying atmosphere. He reaches up and holds your jaw in place, “I'm gonna cum.” You tell him. “Me too, baby. Cum with me.” He tells you as he leans down and kisses you.

A few more strokes and you both are moaning into each other’s mouths as you both came at the same time. He paints your walls white as his hips movements slowly starts to subside, riding out both of your highs. He collapses on top of you, both of you panting heavy. Hot, sweaty sticky bodies in each other’s embrace. Your hand reaches up and caresses his sweaty hair. “I love you.” He tells you as you feel the vibration in the crook of your neck.

“I love you too.” You tell him as you stare off to the ceiling, slowly closing your eyes as you felt the exhaustion take over, caressing movements subsiding in his hair.

—

You wake up with the sun shining in your eyes. You scrunched up your face as you turned away from the light, reaching out to feel San. You shot your eyes open when you didn’t feel him there. No, not again. You sit up straight, looking at the empty spot. “San?” You called out, looking out the door way— nothing answers you back.

You remove the covers off you hastily, ignoring the overall soreness in your body as you walked to your drawer grabbing underwear and oversize shirt. You quickly put them on as you walked out the room, “San- Oh.” You called out once more as you walked down the hallway but stopped abruptly in your steps.

All your overwhelming emotions flushed away when you saw San cooking in the kitchen. “Ah!” He screamed out in pain when a small drop of oil jumped onto his skin. You covered your mouth when you saw how he was standing— body arm length away, hips pushed out, completely away from the pan as his arms are extended out. One hand holds a fork and the other holding the handle of the pot.

Through the sizzling, San heard your chuckle, causing him to snap his head towards you. “The stupid oil burned me again!” He said with a pout.

You sighed out a chuckle as you shook your head. “Let me do it, you big baby.” You said smiling as you walked to him. You take the fork from his hand and flipped some bacon pieces. He crossed his arms, “I’m not a big baby.” He said in a whining tone.

You snorted. “Sure.” You say, eyeing the bacon as you smiled. “You have the temperature too hig-“ You froze in your words when you saw a ring on your ringer finger with a huge diamond on it. How did you miss this big ass rock?

You then felt arms wrap around your waist from behind, lips kissing on your neck. You let out a shocked scoff as you felt tears dwelling in. “I told you I was going to get you a ring with a big gem on it.” He smiles into the kisses on your neck.

You turned to him with tears falling down your cheeks. He smiles at your reaction, cupping your face as he uses his thumb to wipe your tears. “I love you.” You whispered to him.

“I love you so much more.” He tells you. “I promise I will make up for all my mistakes. You’re my life, Y/N. I will prove it to you.” He knows it’s going to take a long time before you fully trust him again, but this a first step for that.

After a moment of silence he grab your chin and places a few more kisses on your lips. “So,” he whispers which you hummed in response, “why don’t we start on those six kids, mm?”

You rolled your eyes, swiping his hand off your chin turning to focus on the bacon. “We are not having six kids, San!” You tell him, giving him a glare over your shoulder. You looked at the bacon and smirked, “Maybe we will have them when you stop being scared over cooking oil.” You teased him.

He let out an offended gasp. “Excuse me?!” He put a hand over his chest. He pursed his lips as he hip bumps you out the way and sassily takes the fork out of your hand. “Watch. I’m not scared of some stupid oil.” His voice trembling through the fake confidence.

He flinched slightly when he sees the oiling jumping all over the place causing you to burst out in laughter. You placed a kiss on his cheek, patting his back. “Sure baby.” You say crossing your arms as you leaned back on the counter.

He then shouts once more , dropping the fork on the counter when the oil jumped on his skin. “Forget it!” He said walking away with attitude which made you stifle a laugh.

He stops in his steps and turns around, a smirk growing on his face. He walks to you, “What are you doing?” You asked him as you stood up, standing with your guard up. He bends down and throws you over his shoulder as he heads to the bedroom. “We can start with one.” He said as you yelled at him to put you down as he smacked your ass. You don’t see it but you two are smiling at each other’s actions.

THE END

[twisted-broth]

Any of the boys you want do a challenge where (they aren't dating yet) but they are at a fair and they win a bear or a prize and s/o gives them a kiss on the cheek for how many they win and s/o says if they win 10 or more they will give them a kiss on the lips and spend a week together with just them (maybe show like if some did get the kiss and how they would react?) I thought this was cute lol

This has been sitting in my drafts for like a year so I just figured I would post the parts of it that were done.

Leave it to Crowley and Grim to get you into this situation. “Every dorm has to have a booth at the fair, prefect! Maybe you’ll even earn enough money to make some renovations to that shoddy old place!”

Crowley failed to take into consideration how making a carnival attraction costs money to be any good. Any cafe service would need more money and supplies than you could afford, a show would need more than two people, and a game would need prizes.

Grim is not one for bright ideas, but it would seem there was no other solution that wouldn’t cost all your food money for the month. So this is what it came to.

“Knock down all the pins and win a kiss on the cheek from Ramshackle’s prefect! Hit all three targets and he’ll give you a kiss on the lips!!!!”

It was probably in your top five most embarrassing moments of your life as your cat basically prostituted you at the top of his lungs. Surely no one would actually be enticed by a prize like that, right?

Trey

"You always manage to find a way to keep things interesting, don't you? For once I'm glad to be at a school mandated event."

Feels bad. Plays anyway.

No hard feelings, right?

He tells you that you have nothing to worry about, he's really a lousy shot anyway (as if he's not the best spelldrive player on Heartslabyul)

He easily knocks down the first two stacks, but misses the third

Maybe he missed, maybe he found it in his heart to show you mercy

He not-so-subtly implies that he's sure he could find a different way to win the "grand prize"

Despite his big talk, he still has a noticeable blush when you give him a kiss on the cheek

He would also keep an eye on your booth for the rest of the day to make sure not too many people are winning

For your sake, of course

Jade

“It would seem you’ve found yourself in quite the situation there, prefect. Please find it in your heart to forgive me if I take advantage.”

This is the funniest shit Jade has ever seen

How stupid do you honestly have to be to get yourself into this predicament?

Of course he’s playing the game. The scowl on your face when he trades in his tickets to Grim for three baseballs fills him with unbridled delight

His aim is a little wonky and you sigh in relief when his first three balls miss the target

He feigns disappointment before handing over another few tickets to the cat and grabbing the balls again

Of course he was hustling you. He let you think that even for a second you would be safe from this menace. For shame

Each ball is thrown with such force that pins from the first stack fly into the other stacks, easily ensuring that Jade clears the game with ease

He calls it beginners luck. Asshole.

Has the biggest shit eating grin on his face as he leans down to your face to claim his prize

Rook

"Mon amour, what a dastardly situation you've been resigned to! Not to worry sweet dame, I shall save you from the beasts at your heels!"

You knew you were in trouble the minute Rook’s gaze happened to fall on your stall

His eyes narrow and he smirks as he makes his way over to the stall

He's visibly holding back his excitement as he trades his tickets in to Grim

His idea of "saving you" is to hog the game- and the prize- for himself

He hits every stack with effortless accuracy, game after game

The second all three stacks have been knocked down, he prances over to you and leans down for his kiss. You can practically see the flower emojis radiating off his satisfied smile

This will continue until Grim gets fed up with him scaring away customers, or Vil comes to drag him away

You got so used to kissing him that you almost do it again the next time he leans down to talk to you

[seelestia]

conclusion: aventurine likes being the only thing on your mind (to which he, in fact, is).

1.1k wc. established relationship, cringy fluff x10000 pls have mercy. petty & jealous aven says hi (ft. his beef w/ an inanimate object, help). a drabble hastily strewn together to celebrate my birthday on oct 13th! ‹3 as u can see, this silly guy is still in my head 🙏

aventurine likes to think that he is a man with sharp eyes. it makes perfect sense because if not, why else would he find sneakiness—or rather, attempts at it—to be so endearing?

all the more so, considering how you've been glancing at the display case behind him for a while now.

thrice, four times, five times. the way you try to catch more glimpses of it eventually grows from tentative to curious. he wonders if you caught on that he's been keeping track of this very top secret, very well-hidden agenda of yours – but as your eyes wander from his face for the nth time, he guesses not.

are the story he's recounting and the cup of sundae you're sharing with him not riveting enough? to have your attention be so easily stolen by whatever thing in whatever shop behind him. . . the mere thought is enough to form some kind of pull at the corners of his lips. it's insistent, it's going downward, and it's costing him some significant ounces of self-control not to pout.

(do you think the pendant is prettier to look at than him? hm, he's feeling neglected.)

but playing the fool is getting boring; finally, aventurine decides it's time to shed his veil of ignorance and lets his acknowledgement of your actions be known within the form of a jovial question.

“does it strike your fancy?” he asks, scooping a spoonful of melting sundae to his lips with a lack of enthusiasm. it tastes good—would taste better if he had your full attention and if you were the one feeding him—but alas, he digresses.

you blink, taken aback. no doubt it's at the fact you're caught red-handed. adorable, he thinks to himself. “it looks pretty,” you reply with a sheepish smile, the awe in your voice doing very little effort to conceal itself. so adorable, his mind chimes in again.

(aventurine still thinks there are better sights out there, though. like you in his eyes and him in yours, for example.)

he notices the vague hint of affection in your tone and suddenly, his interest is piqued to its limit. you rarely use that tone unless it's directed at him. when the frivolous merchant turns around to have a look for himself, his motions are oddly quick and swift – definitely not fueled by a sense of rivalry or anything of that sort. absolutely not.

in any case, he still takes in the sight of the accessory with professionalism. in the wide cosmos, aventurine has come across many of its kind that he either bought for his own collection at the cost of a pretty penny or won in a gamble at the cost of his life. your fascination with it is justified, he'd say, take it from the perspective of an avid collector.

a quaint design, smooth surface, intricate carvings, reasonable price (he doesn't mind the jaw-dropping amount of zeros), and from a make he's heard of before. . . but he'll stop at that because if he says more, he'd surely lose his appetite and the sundae still has a few more spoonfuls left.

(whatever, he's still feeling vengeful towards that thing.)

ironically, though, aventurine's eyes are the ones who wander this time as they flit from your profile to the display. back and forth, a few times in succession. you tilt your head in confusion – but all he requires is only several seconds of your time to accurately visualize the pendant adorning your features. luckily for him, your face is such a familiar sight in his memory that the vision forms itself quite effortlessly.

and when aventurine finally takes a moment to admire the finished image in his head, he smiles contentedly. who wouldn't, at the face of a beauty like yours?

“mhm,” he says dotingly, evidently satisfied at the conclusion he arrives at. “it'll look good on you.”

it's not difficult to predict what comes next when he starts reaching for the card in his pocket – or so, he thought as the sound of your laughter stops him dead. yes, you're laughing, so heartily to the point that your shoulders shake a little.

aventurine expects a demure shake of the head or a weary sigh as he eagerly offers to spend credits for you, yet again. it's common knowledge that he favors spoiling you with his riches: because he likes pretty things and he likes you, thus it's understandable why he likes you in pretty things. but this? he isn't expecting this.

of course, the sight of your expressing mirth at the silliest of things has always been kept framed in his mind but as happy as he is to see it, it still doesn't change the perplexed state he is left in. what, does he have sundae smeared on his face or something?

“thanks, but—” you giggle, a familiar melody that flows like silk to his ears. “i was thinking about how it'd suit you, silly.”

a moment of silence, just enough to let the realization sink in.

“. . .me?” the slight disbelief in aventurine's voice is unmistakable.

“yeah,” you nod with a hum, “the color really brings out your eyes.”

(and his pathetic heart skips a beat.)

oh, how a poor man's world could be flipped upside down with just a sentence. the said man dramatically places a hand over his face as if to shield himself from the light radiating off your very being. “how disappointing. i've fallen right into your trap,” he relents with a long sigh so exaggeratedly that you have to stifle a chuckle at his reaction.

he's smiling so widely, though, so is he truly disappointed? and to that, aventurine will confidently say: no, there is no reason to be disappointed when he has been the one occupying your thoughts all along.

(so, the bad blood with that pendant was for nothing, after all.)

“you're so mean to me sometimes,” he pouts, it's his right to do so after being tricked. “will you forgive me then?” you smile, then he melts just like that in the snap of a finger.

“i can never say no to that,” aventurine sighs in defeat, leaning in for a kiss to soothe his non-existent wounds. it's not like you want to say no to him either.

“wait—” you place a hand on his chest and he makes a questioning noise that sounds akin to a whiny huff. then, a gentle sensation as your thumb brushes against a certain spot on his cheek. “you got sundae on your face,” you chuckle, failing horribly at trying to hold in your laugh all over again.

darn it.

“c'mere—”

all kinds of self-restraint and public image be damned, aventurine immediately closes the distance without further delay – and when his lips meet yours, nothing else matters.

yes, not even the sundae that has melted into sugary soup by now.

[ ☆ THANK YOU FOR READING! © seelestia on tumblr, oct 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own. ]

[justabigassnerd]

Come Home To Us

Pairing - Tim Bradford x reader

Word count - 4,748

Warnings - angst, inaccurate hospital/police scenes, mentions of suicide, viruses, brief mention of Tim's father, swearing, mentions of Tim getting shot

Summary - Tim liked to keep his personal and work life separate, although a certain event was about to change that

A/N - hey y'all this was an anon request that was an honour to write and I will forever push the girl dad Tim agenda I'm not sorry in the slightest. anyways I won't ramble but as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

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

Most of the Mid-Wilshire Police Department only knew Tim Bradford as the hard-ass training officer who never cracked a smile. They would see someone who had the toughest exterior known to man and assumed he was the same outside of work. But in actuality, Tim had a secret that very few knew about. And that secret was about to come out.

“Good morning, Tim.” Your sweet voice says softly as Tim blinks his eyes open, a smile coming to his face as his eyes lock with yours.

“Good morning, Baby,” Tim replies, instantly reaching across to wrap an arm around your waist, tugging you close so he can press a soft kiss to your lips as you giggle.

“You’re up earlier than usual.” Tim then muses with a light laugh as he notices the time on the clock behind you, knowing you always woke up after his alarm went off.

“Your daughter wanted a glass of water and who am I to deny her what she wants?” You reply, curling into Tim as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“My daughter?” Tim asks, an amused tone to his voice, pulling away enough to be able to look down at you.

“She wakes up at the crack of dawn most mornings. She gets that from you.” You laugh, watching as Tim lets out a gentle laugh before giving you another soft kiss.

“Momma! Daddy!” You glance over your shoulder to see your little girl Mia rushing into your room, and you open up your arms to catch her when she launches herself onto yours and Tim’s shared bed.

“Good morning, Sweetheart.” Tim greets Mia with a smile as she clambers from your embrace to Tim’s, giggling as he peppers her face with kisses. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched Tim and Mia interact. You remembered how in your early stages of pregnancy, Tim had been terrified, he was scared he was going to end up like his own father or that something would happen to him and leave you alone with a baby to take care of. But the moment Mia was born and he held her in his arms for the first time, Tim knew that he would go through hell and back to protect his little girl. He wanted to give her the whole world and more. You saw how Tim took to being Mia’s dad easily, he loved her like it was breathing and he made sure he was a present parent in her life.

“Can I have breakfast, please?” Mia asks, looking between you and Tim with the puppy dog eyes that melted you both down in seconds.

“Let’s get you ready for preschool first, then we’ll make breakfast,” Tim says, scooping Mia up into his arms, and sitting her on his hip as he gets out of bed. As he takes Mia back to her room to get her ready for the day, you get up and begin to change yourself, readying yourself for the day before heading out to the kitchen to begin making breakfast.

“Momma! Daddy said I could help make breakfast!” Mia comes hurtling into the kitchen, excitedly looking up at you as you laugh.

“Of course, you can help, Sweetie. What would you like for breakfast?” You ask, finding the little stepstool so that Mia can reach the kitchen counter to assist you in making breakfast.

“Cereal please.” She requests as you nod, already handing her one of her favourite princess bowls. Mia reaches up to the cupboard you kept the cereal in while you watched carefully. Mia was only five years old but she was already growing in her independence, and you knew she got that from Tim. Despite that, she was the sweetest little soul who loved and cared for everyone around her and you couldn’t be prouder to have her as your daughter.

“You got it, Sweetie? Do you want me to grab you the milk?” You ask softly, resting your hand on Mia’s back as you watch her carefully pour some cereal into the bowl, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth in her concentration.

“Yes please, Momma,” Mia asks, satisfied with the amount of cereal she’s put in the bowl as she carefully places the box down. You press a soft kiss to the top of Mia’s head before heading over to the fridge to grab the milk for her as Tim enters the kitchen, smiling at you both and now dressed for the day.

“How’s breakfast making going?” Tim asks, crossing to you and capturing your lips in a soft kiss before letting you give the milk to Mia.

“You’re getting soft, you know?” You say with a laugh, thinking about the way Tim used to be when you first met him.

“Only for my family,” Tim says, hovering near Mia to supervise as she tries to pour the milk herself, eventually placing his hand on the carton and giving Mia a helping hand.

“I forget work doesn’t get the same privileges as us.” You tease, beginning to prep both your and Tim’s morning coffees, putting them into their respective travel mugs before making Mia’s packed lunch and filling a bottle with water for her.

As Mia eats her breakfast, Tim makes breakfast for you and him while you pack Mia’s bag with everything she’ll need for the day. You then join Tim and Mia at the table to eat your breakfast before noting the time when you’ve finished eating and tidied away.

“We should head out. Don’t want you to be late to preschool, do we?” You say, tickling Mia quickly, smiling as she squeals and squirms.

“Daddy, help!” Mia calls out for Tim to save her, making him scoop her up in his arms, holding her close as you laugh.

“I’ll protect you, Mia,” Tim says, holding her close as you roll your eyes jokingly.

“You can protect her by taking her to preschool, then.” You say, picking up Mia’s bag and holding it out towards Tim who takes it and slings the small strap over his shoulder.

“I can do that. Are you okay to collect her this afternoon?” Tim says, carrying Mia over to the shoe rack and helping her put her shoes on while you follow behind, grabbing your own work bag.

“Yeah, that’s perfectly fine.” You say, bending down as you gently brush Mia’s stray hair away from her face.

“Bye, Momma,” Mia says, throwing herself into your arms. You’re quick to hug her back, relishing the feeling of her clinging to you.

“Bye, Sweetie. I’ll see you this afternoon.” You whisper, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head before releasing her from the hug, straightening up to say goodbye to Tim.

“You’ll stay safe, won’t you? Come home to us?” You ask quietly so Mia doesn’t hear you.

“I always do. Nothing can stop me from coming home to you both.” Tim reassures you softly, placing his hands on your waist to pull you a little closer. He understood your fears, and he knew you’d been living with them for years. After Mia was born your worry only increased which made Tim all the more determined to get home to his family after every shift. And after the recent incident where Tim got shot, you worried about him even more.

“I love you.” You whisper softly just before Tim cups your face softly in his hands, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“I love you too.” He whispers after pulling away from the embrace, smiling down at you softly to reassure you that little bit more.

“Daddy, come on we need to go!” Mia’s little voice snaps you back to reality as she tugs on Tim’s jacket, making you both laugh.

“Okay, okay, you have a point. Let’s get going, Princess.” Tim says, taking Mia’s little hand in one hand while grabbing both his bag and hers with the other before heading out of the front door to take Mia to preschool and then head to work. A few minutes after Tim leaves, you grab your keys and bag then head out to your car so you can make your way to work. You worked at the local high school so you knew your day was going to be busy as you began the drive to work.

As you arrived at work you greeted your colleagues as you passed them in the corridors, making your way to your classroom, heading over to your desk and placing everything down so you can get on with your morning tasks. You spend time prepping your classes and making sure you’re ready for the day before your students begin to file into the room, all of them greeting you with a smile as they cross to their desks and settle in their seats.

The day progressed like any other, nothing you weren’t used to working in a high school. You taught your classes and caught up with your coworkers during lunch. Until your phone rang with an unknown number. Instantly filled with dread and assuming the worst, you excused yourself from your coworkers and accepted the call, walking to a quiet corner of the staff lounge.

“Hello?” You say into the phone, your throat drying up in anticipation of any bad news.

“Hello, is this Mrs. Bradford?” A nervous female voice asks.

“Yes, it is. Who am I speaking to?” You confirm before asking the woman on the other end of the line for her name.

“I’m Officer Lucy Chen. I’m Officer Bradford’s rookie.” Lucy introduced herself, pacing anxiously back and forth in front of the door she knew Tim was behind. You recognised Lucy’s name quickly as you recalled Tim talking about her.

“Is Tim okay?” Your voice was shaky as tears threatened to well up in your eyes. You knew Tim didn’t open up about his personal life to anyone at work outside of Angela and Wade so the fact he told his rookie about you was ringing alarm bells in your head.

“He- you know I’ll just let him tell you himself,” Lucy says, placing the phone by the gap under the door and putting you on speaker.

“Tim?” Your voice came through to the other room, making Tim perk up the slightest bit at hearing your voice.

“y/n?” Tim replies, making you let out a slight sigh of relief from hearing his voice, even if it was partially muffled.

“Tim, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” You ask, your fear evident in your voice as Tim leans his head back, resting it against the door.

“There’s been an incident. I don’t know if I’ll make it home tonight.” Tim says, trying to find the words to describe what’s going on without panicking you further.

“Tim, talk to me. What’s happened?” You plead, desperate for answers.

“Don’t tell anyone at work about this. But we found out there’s a group wanting to disperse a virus within the city. We tracked one of the weapons to this house after a guy picked it up by accident and he got sick and… he coughed on me. I’m quarantining in this room while we wait for the CDC but if I start showing any signs of the virus, I want to go out on my own terms. I don’t want to go through what I just saw this guy go through. I owe it to you to tell you that.” Tim says, and you feel a tear slip down your cheek at his words.

“No. You’ll be okay. You’re going to come home.” You say, lifting your free hand to wipe your tears away before anyone notices.

“But I might not. And I want you to be prepared for that outcome. Just promise me you’ll give Mia a hug from me and tell her I love her so much.” Tim says, fighting back the building tears at the thought of not seeing you or Mia again.

“You’ll tell her that yourself. Just hold on. You’ll be okay.” You beg, hoping that by some miracle the CDC will enter the room Tim is in and save him.

“I love you so much,” Tim murmurs softly.

“I love you too.��� You whisper quietly in response.

“You go back to work, okay? I’ll have someone call you no matter what happens. I promise.” Tim says, and as much as you wanted to tell him no, to tell him that you wanted to come and sit with him and be by his side when he needed you. But you understood that he wanted you to keep busy, and for you to try not to worry about him too much, although that ship had already sailed.

“Okay. I love you.” You say, hearing Tim’s whispered response before you hang up the phone, wondering how you are going to get through the rest of the day with these thoughts in your head. You were thankful that after lunch you had a free period so you didn’t have to worry about teaching any classes and could focus on grading papers and making new lesson plans to get a head start. As you worked, you found your gaze being drawn towards the framed picture you have on your desk of you, Tim, and Mia. All you could do was hope that Tim would be okay, you had no idea how you’d tell Mia if anything happened to Tim. Mia was the biggest daddy’s girl and you knew it would crush her if you had to look her in the eye and tell her that her daddy wasn’t coming home.

“Please be okay, Tim.” You whisper, hoping that by some miracle, someone will hear your whisper and be able to save Tim. Halfway through your free period, your phone buzzed once more and this time you saw Angela’s name displayed across your phone screen and you scooped your phone up instantly, answering the call.

“Angela, please tell me he’s okay.” You plead, pacing your classroom anxiously as you wait for Angela to respond.

“He’s on his way to the hospital. The CDC got there and administered the vaccine but as he was leaving the house he passed out. He’s going to Shaw Memorial.” Angela explains as Jackson drives them to the hospital.

“I’m getting Mia and I’m coming to the hospital.” You say, shoving everything in your bag with little to no consideration for anything else but getting to Shaw Memorial.

“I’ll be waiting for you both,” Angela says with a nod, ignoring Jackson’s confused glances, bidding you goodbye before hanging up the phone.

After ending the call, you finish packing your bag and immediately make a beeline for the principal's office, knocking and entering with permission.

“Ah, y/n, what can I do for you?” He says with a friendly smile which falters when he notices your worried expression and the bag on your shoulder.

“Something’s happened with my husband. He’s in the hospital and I need to go and see him. I have lesson plans all written up in my desk so a substitute can step in I just need to go and see Tim.” You explain, trying not to sound too flustered but you also knew you were failing miserably.

“Of course, you can go. We should have someone available, I’ll track them down before the next period. You’re free to go. I hope everything is okay.” He says softly, holding up a hand to calm you down. When you process his words, you let out a small sigh of relief, your shoulders sagging in relief.

“Thank you so much, Paul.” You thank him gratefully, beginning to back away towards the door before saying a quick goodbye and rushing out to your car. You waste no time driving over to the preschool Mia is at, soon pulling up outside and heading into the reception.

“Mrs. Bradford, how can I help you?” The receptionist, Poppy greets you as you enter the room, her normal smile plastered on her face.

“I would like to pick Mia up early, please.” You say as you reach the front desk, bracing your hands on the desk.

“Is everything okay?” Poppy asks, picking up on your worried expression instantly.

“Tim’s in the hospital.” You say quietly and Poppy’s eyes widen slightly, making her nod as she gets up from her seat.

“I’ll go and get her.” She says quickly, excusing herself and heading off to find Mia and bring her to you. Poppy was only gone for about five minutes and soon returned with Mia skipping along by her side.

“Momma!” Mia exclaims happily, rushing into your outstretched arms as you crouch down to catch her in your arms.

“Hi, Sweetie.” You greet her, trying not to let your voice wobble with emotion as you straighten up, taking her hand in yours and taking her bag from her with your spare hand as you thank Poppy before walking Mia out to your car, helping her into her car seat and buckling her in.

“Where are we going, Momma?” Mia asks, her voice filled with innocence as she watches you carefully. And as much as you wanted to protect her, you knew you couldn’t lie to her.

“Daddy’s in the hospital so we need to go and make sure he’s okay.” You explain, brushing some baby hairs away from her face as she frowns, eyebrows furrowing as she puts everything together in her head.

“Daddy’s hurt?” She asks quietly, making you realise she was thinking of when Tim was last hurt on the job.

“I’m not sure, Sweetie. The doctors will tell me what’s happened when we get there and then we can check on him.” You say softly, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head before you get behind the wheel, driving to the hospital. When you find a place to park, you help Mia out of the car, walking alongside her hand in hand while you call Angela, letting her know where you’re entering the hospital so she can meet you. It took you less than five minutes to locate Angela.

“Auntie Angie!” Mia calls out, rushing over to Angela who scoops Mia up in her arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Hey, Mia.” Angela greets you with a smile before looking over at you.

“How is he?” You ask quietly, watching Angela’s reaction carefully.

“He seems to be okay. He woke up before they got him into the hospital. He actually helped one of our rookies out of a tough spot. The doctors are waiting for you, I’ll keep an eye on Mia. I think you need some time alone with Tim first.” Angela says, causing you to let out a sigh of relief as you thank Angela quietly before crossing to the nurse's desk.

“Hello, I’ve been told my husband, Tim Bradford has been brought here. Can I see him?” You ask, watching as the nurse glances at you with a smile.

“Let me just get the doctor for you.” They say, paging the doctor who arrives in what feels like record time and quickly locates you still standing by the desk.

“Mrs. Bradford?” The doctor greets you softly, making you turn to face him with a smile and a nod.

“Yes. Is Tim okay?” You ask, desperate for answers.

“Your husband is okay. All his test results have come back clear and an allergic reaction to the vaccine caused his passing out.” The doctor explains, a smile on her face as you nod, happy tears coming to your eyes.

“Can I see him? Is that okay?” You ask, your fingers drifting to your wedding ring as you twist it nervously around your ring finger.

“Yes, you may. Follow me and I’ll take you to his room.” She says with a nod, turning and leading you to a room, stopping by the door and encouraging you to head in. After a deep breath, you open the door and head into the room.

“y/n.” Tim breathes out softly from where he is sitting on the hospital bed. You didn’t respond at first, instead striding across the room, sitting alongside Tim on the bed, grabbing his face in your hands and kissing him strongly. You had no words for how relieved you were to see Tim alive and well so all you could do in this moment was kiss him.

“You scared the shit out of me.” You whisper, pulling away enough to speak, your lips brushing up against his as your hands drop from Tim’s face to his shoulders.

“I’m sorry. I promise it was never my intention to scare you. I thought today was going to be an easy day at work.” Tim admits quietly, lifting a hand to cup your cheek in his hand and brush a thumb over the apple of your cheek softly.

“Last time you said that was after you got shot. Maybe you should stop assuming work’s going to be easy.” You weakly attempt to joke, pulling back a little more as Tim lets out a light chuckle, dropping his hand from your cheek, reaching up and taking one of your hands in his, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles rhythmically.

“Sounds like I should,” Tim says softly. There was then a slight lull in conversation as you thought of what Tim had said to you on the phone earlier.

“Did… did you mean what you said about going out on your own terms? Would you have really-” You cut yourself off, tears already stinging your eyes at the mere thought of Tim taking his own life.

“If you had seen what that virus did to a person, you’d understand why it was a serious consideration. I didn’t want to go through what I had just seen that guy Peter go through. That virus was horrible, I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.” Tim explains, his eyes never leaving yours for a second as you nod lightly.

“So, you don’t feel like that normally? It was only because you thought you were sick with that virus?” You ask, watching Tim’s expression carefully.

“I promise you I don’t ever have thoughts like that. I’ve never been happier with my life than I am now. You and Mia are my life and you both make me so unbelievably happy. I promise.” Tim says, squeezing your hand to exaggerate his point. At his words, you nod, lifting your free hand to wipe the threatening tears away.

“You’d tell me if you ever felt like that. Wouldn’t you?” You ask softly, watching as Tim nods.

“Of course,” Tim whispers. Part of you knew that Tim had a tendency to keep his struggles to himself, but since starting a relationship with you he had gotten better at opening up about things so you at least had some comfort in the knowledge that he was more likely to come to you about any problems. With everything now discussed, you looked at Tim with a soft smile before speaking.

“Would you like to see Mia? She’s with Angela in the waiting room.” You say, not missing how Tim’s eyes lit up at the mention of his daughter.

“She’s here?” He asks, watching as you nod with a smile.

“I’ll go and grab her now.” You say, standing up and pressing a quick kiss to the top of Tim’s head before exiting the room and heading back to the waiting room where you see Mia sitting on a chair as a female police officer stands behind the chair as she did Mia’s hair. You didn’t know who this officer was but judging by everyone’s smiles, she was a good one.

“Momma! Look! Lucy did my hair!” Mia exclaims excitedly, hopping off the chair and showing off the braids she now had in her hair and when you hear Mia name the police officer, you realise that she must be the one who called you earlier.

“It’s very pretty, Mia! Did you thank Lucy?” You ask, guiding Mia back towards the group of gathered police officers.

“Thank you, Lucy!” Mia chirps, rushing over to the rookie who smiles and shakes her head.

“No need to thank me. Mia’s a sweetheart.” Lucy at first says to Mia before looking up at you and directing her next sentence to you.

“Aw thank you. But in all seriousness, I should be thanking you for calling me about Tim in the first place.” You thank Lucy gratefully, feeling like you owe her so much.

“Tim asked me to call you for him. All I did was dial the number.” Lucy says in an attempt to downplay what she did.

“You still let me know about what happened. That means a lot.” You say, smiling at Lucy who nods with a shy smile of her own.

“I’d love to spend time chatting but I promised Tim I’d bring Mia to see him. But I would love to get to know you all properly at some point.” You say apologetically, taking Mia’s hand in your own and bidding the gathered officers a hurried goodbye before heading off in the direction of Tim’s hospital room. As they watch you leave, Nolan and Jackson move to stand by Lucy’s side.

“Tim had a whole secret family and no one knew but Angela?” Jackson asks, glancing over at his training officer who shrugs with a grin.

“It helps to be the one who introduced them,” Angela says proudly, making the rookies exchange a look.

“She’s basically the polar opposite of Tim,” Nolan says, wondering why Angela had thought you and Tim would’ve made a good couple.

“They say opposites attract and I just knew y/n and Tim would work,” Angela says, folding her arms across her chest as the other rookies begin to bombard her with questions.

Meanwhile, you led Mia to Tim’s hospital room, opening the door and encouraging her to enter the room, seeing how she smiled upon seeing her dad.

“Daddy!” She says happily, rushing over to Tim’s bedside as Tim smiles widely.

“Hi, Sweetheart,” Tim says, holding an arm open to encourage Mia to hop up alongside him but you both see her hesitation as you pull up a chair alongside the bedside, settling into it. You exchange a glance with Tim before you realise why it is she was hesitating to join Tim.

“You’re not going to hurt Daddy, Sweetie.” You say softly. You remembered how when Tim got shot and was in the hospital last, Mia had rushed into his hospital room and nearly jumped up alongside him so you had warned Mia to be careful and to not jump on him while he was hurt.

“I’m not hurt, Princess. I promise.” Tim says, smiling softly at your daughter as he extends his arm out once again, and this time Mia carefully climbs up on the bed alongside him and curls into his embrace, resting her head on his chest.

“How long have you got off this time?” You ask lightly as Tim runs a hand up and down Mia’s back.

“At least two weeks,” Tim says, remembering what the doctor had told him just so they could play on the side of caution.

“Oh good, that’s plenty of time for you to reconsider my idea of getting a dog.” You say with a smile, watching as Tim jokingly glares at you while Mia perks up.

“Yes! Get a dog!” She says excitedly, curling up closer to Tim and attempting to give him puppy dog eyes.

“We’ve been over this,” Tim says, looking pointedly at you as you smile innocently.

“Please, Daddy.” Mia pleads, cuddling impossibly closer as Tim rolls his eyes jokingly.

“I will consider it.” Tim concedes, sighing as you and Mia share a high-five. As you settle back in your seat, you reach across and rest your hand atop Tim’s free hand, smiling as you watch him press a gentle kiss atop Mia’s head.

As you watched Tim interacting with Mia, you were filled with overwhelming gratitude that Tim was okay. He was so important to you and Mia and you dreaded the mere thought of him not being around anymore. But he was alive and healthy, and you knew that he would not let anything get in between him and his family.

He’d always make his way home to you.

[elllisaaa]

BE YOUR LOVE - C. SOOBIN

KINKTOBER DAY 17 - ROUGH + LOUD SEX

SUMMARY : it has not been long since you started dating soobin, and every intimate moment you had until then has been cut short. frustration starts to grow on the two of you and when he finally has the opportunity to have you all to himself, soobin doesn't hold back.

-> pairing : bf!soobin x fem!reader

-> words count : 2.6k

-> genre : smut

-> warnings : dirty talk, rough & loud sex (obviously), body worhsip, praising, nipple play, marking, dry humping, size kink, protected sex, use of 'bunny'

+ the way i'm depicting soobin does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction

-> 18+ content bellow, minors DNI

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | txt masterlist | kinktober 2024

What you loved the most about your boyfriend was how sweet and caring he was. Even when he was still only your friend, Soobin always made sure that you were comfortable, that you had everything you needed, that you were alright. And now that he got promoted, he was even more attentive to your every need. It was cute, and you felt so loved you didn’t understand what you did to deserve someone like him. Even if it had not been that long since the both of you upgraded your relationship from friends to lovers, you lived a dream. 

Well, except one thing maybe. You loved your friends, you really did, and you were glad that they were so cool about your relationship with Soobin. But sometimes, they were a little too cool about it. They were used to the dynamic you and your boyfriend had as friends, but they were not quite used to seeing the two of you kiss, or hold hands, or cuddle like the couple you were. And if it was only that, you would’ve honestly not cared. But it went further. 

They simply didn’t acknowledged that sometimes, when you came over to see Soobin, the both of you just wanted to be left alone for more than five minutes, that you just wanted to see each other without being interrupted every once in a while to know if you wanted to do this or that, or that Beomgyu got his ass beaten by Kai at Mario Kart. You loved your friends, but sometimes you just wanted Soobin all to yourself. 

And this situation was starting to get on your nerves, but it seemed like Soobin stayed cool about it all. Of course, you knew it annoyed him too, but he didn’t show it as much as you did. Even when the guys caught you heavily making out on the couch when they were supposed to be out for the whole day, Soobin stayed calm and simply led you to his room so you could watch a movie and take a nap. Even when things were about to get heated and Yeonjun came home, drunk, and that you both had to take care of him, Soobin didn’t lose his cool. So much that you started to think he was relieved that things hadn’t got any further between the two of you yet. 

“- You’re crazy if you think I don’t want you bunny. You don't know how hard it is for me to not lose my mind when you look like this every day.”

His cheeks were burning as he said this, but it was true, and he couldn’t let you believe that he wasn’t attracted to you when all he craved was a taste of your pussy and a glimpse of your bare skin. You blushed too at his admission, but your heart beat faster as Soobin’s eyes raked over your figure, his gaze intense and filled with lust as he looked back into your eyes. 

“- I want you so bad Y/N, and it drives me mad everytime I can’t have you.”

You cupped his face in your hands, pressing your body against his as Soobin wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him under the sheets, his eyes flickering down to your moving lips.

“- Well, you can have me now.”

Soobin didn’t need you to repeat it twice as he dived in to kiss you passionately. Still, his hands on you were soft, his touch light as he climbed on top of you and deepened the kiss. Everything was slow and sensual, making you wet so easily at the thought that it was finally going to happen. You had dreamed about fucking with Soobin for a long time, even when you were still only friends, but you had decided to take things slow with your relationship. Hence why after four months, you hadn’t done much more than kissing and groping over each other's clothes. 

But today there was something in the air, something in the way Soobin whispered an “I love you” against your lips before kissing you again, something in the way he slipped his hands underneath your sweater to caress you more boldly that made you think you would get what you wanted. As Soobin explored the skin of your waist and tummy, your own hands went under his shirt to discover the smoothness of his back, and how easy it was to make shivers come alive on his skin. 

You smirked as Soobin gasped in your mouth when you started to trace his abs with your nails, but he quickly washed it off your face when his hands went up to your breasts, squeezing them in between his long fingers and making you moan too. Soobin took it as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, dancing skillfully with yours as you played with each other's body. You were not in a rush for anything this time, taking your time to trace every imperfections and curve of his skin while he couldn’t detach his hands from your body either. 

“- Can I take it off bunny ? I wanna see you.

- Only if you take it off too.

- Deal.”

You giggled while Soobin hurriedly got rid of his white shirt before he helped you get out of your sweater (that was in fact one of his). He seemed fascinated as he detailed your now naked chest, his hands timidly coming back to wrap around your boobs and groaning at the view. 

“- You’re so beautiful, so perfect.”

Your cheeks heated up to the compliment, and Soobin quickly swept you off your feet as he leaned down to kiss you again, quickly letting his mouth come down to discover how good the skin of your neck tasted too. His kisses got sloppier, sucking and licking at your skin as he played with your nipple and making you moan his name. You closed your eyes as you let the feeling sink in, loving how good he could make you feel with this only. 

“- Binnie… Let me touch you too, please.”

Soobin hummed against the skin of your neck, but he still sucked one more purple mark onto you before he detached himself and laid down on the bed instead of you. This time, you were the one who climbed up on top of him, only wearing your panties now, and you sat on his lap, his already hard cock pressing against your clothed core and making the both of you sigh. But you ignored it for now, because you wanted to worship your pretty boyfriend. 

“- You look so fucking good, I don’t think you understand how handsome you are.

- Bunny…

- Shh, let me make you feel good too, yeah ?”

Soobin nodded at you as you leaned down to kiss him quickly before you moved on to his neck just like he did a few moments ago. You sucked on his skin too, leaving some purple marks behind you too to match with the one covering your neck. At the same time, you let your hands roam over his toned chest, appreciating every low moan and sigh escaping your boyfriend’s lips. His own hands had come up to take a hold of your waist, he couldn’t keep his hands away from you for too long. 

“- Y/N… 

- Hm ?

- I need you.

- Need you too, need you so bod. You don’t know how many times I wish this could happen.”

You can’t talk for too long without feeling the need to plant another kiss on his lips, your tongue mingling with his in a sensual dance that left the both of you breathless. And when Soobin pressed you down on him and moaned against your mouth, you knew you couldn’t wait anymore. You started to roll your hips on top of him, the friction against your clit making you whine and rendering you blind and deaf to anything around you. That was probably why you didn’t hear Yeonjun and Kai come back home - even though they were supposed to spend the weekend away - and that was probably why you didn’t react right away when the older boy opened the door. 

“- Soobin, is Y/N with y-”

You looked up at Yeonjun in disbelief for a few seconds, and Soobin did the same before his instincts took over : he threw a blanket over your almost naked body to not let his friend see you like this and he threw a pillow at the boy who screamed loudly. 

“- Don’t you know how to knock on a fucking door !? Get out of here !

- Okay, okay, sorry !”

Yeonjun closed the door behind him and Soobin sighed as he ran his hands over his face, really fed up with being interrupted this time. He was that close to finally getting a taste of his pretty girlfriend, sweet pussy, and now he was getting cockblocked again. He looked at you, so cute with your red cheeks, your messy hair and your eyes still glistening with lust, wrapped in his blanket, and all he wanted to do was to devour you. 

“- Are you still in the mood bunny ?

- Well, yes, but the guys are home…”

Soobin grabbed your hand to pull you on top of him again, pulling you down on his lap in the exact same position as a few minutes before. And you couldn’t deny it, the hint of something darker in his gaze as he checked you out, detailed your body, made your stomach twist. 

“- I don’t care if they’re home. I just want to have you. Let me fuck you bunny, let them hear how real our couple is.”

You wanted to laugh at his sudden possessiveness, but Soobin was serious, so you just nodded at him, whispering “okay” against his lips. He didn’t know if it was the fact that you had been interrupted one too many times by your friends, or that Yeonjun had seen you almost naked and that he didn’t liked the way he looked at you, or that he was just thinking with his dick, but Soobin needed to be inside you, he needed to ruin you and to make you scream loud enough for everyone in the apartment to hear, for the neighbors to fill up a noise complaint tomorrow. 

“- I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t remember your own name bunny.”

His promise didn’t fall on deaf ears, but you still squealed when Soobin easily inverted your positions - laying you down on the bed instead. In the span of a few seconds, your panties were out of the equation, and so were his sweatpants and underwear. Your eyes were glued to his impressive size, and even if you knew, even if Soobin had warned you, you couldn’t help your reaction when you saw him roll the condom on his length. 

“- What ? 

- Nothing. Just didn’t think you were that big.”

The compliment made your shy boyfriend come back to life, and not that sort of sex demon that seemed to have possessed him, but as soon as he placed himself at your entrance and that you pleaded for him to fill you up, it disappeared again. Even just his tip seemed big, and you whined for more so easily it was making it hard for him to hold back. 

“- You already feel so tight… You’re gonna make me lose my mind.

- Please, Soobin… Just fuck me like you mean it, I need you.”

That was all he needed to push his whole cock into you without a warning, making you moan loudly even if you had slapped one of your hands against your mouth to try and suppress your noises. But Soobin struggled to hold back his own sounds, the way you were clenching down around him making him feel in heaven already. 

“- Tell me what you want bunny, tell me how rough I can be because I don’t want to hurt you but you’re making it difficult.”

The slow rocking of his hips seemed controlled, but you could feel by the way he was gripping on your waist tightly that he was holding back as much as he could, that he was really trying to stay the same caring and sweet Soobin for your first time. But the way he was hovering over you, and the way his big cock was burshing against your cervix so easily, and the way his hands looked so big on you - all of that made you want to be ruined by him so bad.

“- D-Don’t hold back, please fuck me hard…

- Shit… You’re gonna be the death of me…”

These were the last words you fully registered coming out of his mouth before you partially blacked out. Soobin’s thrusts shifted from slow and sensual, to deep and powerful. The bed was moving and hitting the wall to the rhythm of his hips, but your moans were just as loud, your brain having disconnected and forgotten about the fact that Yeonjun and Kai were still living there. No, that was thinking material for later, now you could only feel the way Soobin was filling you up, the way Soobin hit your sweet spot with each one of his thrusts. 

And Soobin knew he should have stayed level-headed, knew that he should have waited until you were alone, knew that he probably should’ve been more careful and gentle for your first time together, but it was like he physically couldn’t. Every new whimper and moan from you only spurred him on, and every clench of your wet, velvety walls around him made him more addicted to your pussy. It was like everything that wasn’t you or that wasn’t him had disappeared, vanished into the hot air of his room. 

Soobin pushed one of your legs higher, until it could rest on his shoulder and allowed him to hit deeper inside of you, if that was even possible. The slight change of angle made the both of you moan in harmony, your hands flying to his sweaty shoulder to try and keep a grip on reality as Soobin increased the force of his thrusts. 

Everything around you was blurred, lava coursing through your body and heating you up from the inside every time your boyfriend pounded harder into you. You could feel yourself getting close already, but you couldn't even say a word, too far gone to know how to make a sentence anymore. Soobin detached his eyes from where his big cock was swallowed by your pretty cunt when you tugged on his hair, met with the most beautiful view ever - your face transformed by ecstasy, by the pleasure he was giving to you, and you were glowing from something that made him want to ruin you even more. 

“- Soobin… I’m…”

This was enough for him to understand that you were close, and he kept the same pace, adamant on hitting your sweet spot everytime he snapped his hips forward, adamant on hearing you scream his name again and again, adamant on everyone else hearing how good he fucked you. He let one of his hands get down to your clit, applying little pressure against your bundle of nerves, but just enough for your thighs to start trembling and for your moans to pick up again. Soobin watched you as you came on his cock, the feeling of you clenching down on him again enough to make him cum too. Soobin continued to thrust into you at a slow path, letting you come down off your high and riding out his orgasm. 

“- You think they will be mad ?

- Definitely, but it was worth it.”

The cheeky smirk on his lips made you want to hit him, but the way he was still lazily fucking you had your brain feeling all fuzzy again. You didn’t know what monster came over your boyfriend once it came to sex, but you loved it, and too bad for your friends because you had a lot to catch up with.

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

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[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨Lead Us Into Temptation✨

The poll didn't even finish before I started working on this lmao, hope you enjoy my first take on some very soft dom Luci!

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: You were a devout believer in life, but somehow you ended up in Hell with no real explanation. Most nights you can be found sitting on a bar stool in the lobby, trying to cope with what's happened to you. But one night while in an intoxicated state, you reveal your most hidden desires to the King himself...

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Warnings: smut, 18+, reader first time, hand job, fingering, tail play, oral (m & f receiving), p in v

"That's it, I'm cuttin' you off for tonight," Husk said sternly, whisking away your unfinished glass of whiskey. You'd been at the bar for only an hour and you've already downed five full glasses.

"Noooo, Husk c'mon...I'm fffffiiiinnee," you babbled, trying to push your head from the countertop unsuccessfully.

It's been a few months since you arrived in Hell after an unfortunate accident that ended in your early demise. But being a devout believer, you were so sure that Heaven would be your final destination. How wrong you were. You woke up in the fiery pit confused and scared, your body had transformed into that of a demon; you had become something you had feared for your entire life. When you first heard about the Hazbin Hotel, you nearly jumped at the opportunity for redemption. If there was even the slightest hope of getting out of here, you were going to take it. But your situation was more than troublesome, considering how you led your life up on Earth. On most nights, you could easily be found sitting on a bar stool, trying desperately to drown your sorrows and distract yourself from the reality you'd found yourself in.

What's worse...not everyone here is evil. It was ingrained into you that everyone down here in Hell deserved to be, they had earned this punishment. But getting to know some of the other residents at the hotel, that couldn't have been further from the truth! Was everything you were taught just a complete lie?! For Heaven's sake, Charlie, the literal princess of Hell, was the sweetest and kindest being you've ever had the pleasure of meeting! And Vaggie, a former angel, so devout to Charlie and her dream, you've never seen two people more in love. Angel, although a bit eccentric and over the top, cared deeply for his friends and was ready to fight for them at a moment's notice. It was all...not what you expected, and you had a very difficult time coping with everything that you had been thrust into.

"You're shit faced," Husk snapped back. "Look, I know you're havin' a hard time with all this. But drinking away your issues ain't gonna solve any of 'em. You need to sleep this off." He watched you stumble off the bar stool, your one foot catching the other, resulting in a rather pitiful fall onto the carpet. But you couldn't feel anything, the alcohol helped mask the pain you were sure to feel tomorrow. You couldn't help but giggle at your own clumsiness. "Oh, for fuck's sake..." Husk grumbled.

Before you could even attempt to pull yourself off the ground, you saw a pair of black boots approaching you in a rather hurried manner.

"Woah!" the voice exclaimed, "Are you alright? Here, let me help you!" In no time, your limp body went from lying on the lobby floor to being hoisted up and helped back onto the bar stool you fell from. You turned your head to see Lucifer's concerned face staring back at you. "Husk, what happened?"

"She's drunk," the cat demon explained, "I told her she was done drinkin' for the night and she ate shit trying to stand up. I was about to help her back to her room-"

All of a sudden, a shadowy presence started to form behind the bar. A static filled laugh was heard before Alastor had popped up, startling the bar tender. "Husker, my good man!," the radio demon bellowed, "it seems as though I am in need of your assistance."

"Fuck! Why can't you just walk in here like a normal fucking person?" Husk grumbled.

Alastor only responded with a light chuckle before fixing his attention on you. "My, my, what have we here?" Alastor taunted. You could have sworn you heard a low growl coming from Lucifer beside you. "I say, my dear, I've never seen you look worse than you do now. What a pity, all of those teachings really didn't help you in the long run, now did they?"

You felt tears threatening to fall from your eyes at Alastor's cruel words. If you were sober, you would have run the other direction as fast as you could. Alastor had been the other real soul you met who you knew with every fiber of your being belonged in this pit. But considering you had no inhibitions and clearly no chance of getting away, you picked your head up and slammed your fists on the table in righteous anger.

"Ohhh, eat shit youuuu *hic* smiling prick!" You tried to stand up once more, only for your legs to buckle underneath you. Luckily, Lucifer had caught you before your face had met with the carpet again. "I-I don't deserve this! 'Least I'm TRYING to redeem m'self!"

Alastor's malicious grin never faltered. "Oh, and what a fabulous job you're doing! I do wonder how a woman such as yourself has fallen so far from grace."

"Fuck off, radio freak," Lucifer snarled, barring his teeth and his eyes shifting to a deep crimson red and yellow.

“Oh, ho ho! Seems as though I’ve struck a nerve,” Alastor mocked. He made his way around the bar, now towering over you and the fallen angel. “Tell me, your highness, what is your fascination with this lost soul, hmm? I’m so utterly curious as to why you would give her the time of day when all she does is wallow in her self-pity and-”

“I. SAID. FUCK. OFF.” the king spat, his eyes now changing into a solid red and his voice deepening to match his threat. Though your vision was hazy, you noticed his horns had burst out from his temples. Whether it was the alcohol or something else entirely, your face suddenly felt very, very hot. “Don’t make me repeat myself again.”

Despite the immense danger, Alastor could only muster a sly grin. “It’s very rude to ignore my question.”

“I don’t have to do anything for you! Or have you forgotten who you’re talking to?” The way Lucifer spoke sent a shiver down your spine. “The only reason that you’re not a mangled corpse on the ground right now is because of my daughter. So, if you want to stay in one piece, I’d walk away right now if I were you…”

The two men's faces were just inches away from each other now. Alastor’s eye twitched as he glared back at Lucifer with pure distain. His eyes shifted to you only for a brief moment before standing up straight and smirking to himself.

“I suppose it really is no business of mine as to how you choose to mingle with the guests here,” the radio demon resolved. He turned around to walk away, but not before glancing at you once more over his shoulder. “They’re lost causes anyway. Come along, Husker!”

Lucifer’s demonic traits disappeared as Alastor finally left the parlor. “I hate that man.” He looked at Husk empathetically. “If I could break your arrangement with him, I would. I’m sorry. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of her.” With that, Husk nodded and followed the radio demon down the hall, leaving you and Lucifer alone at the now empty bar.

You started to bawl as you clung to Lucifer for support. Immediately, he rushed you over to the couch and sat you down next to him, letting you cry into the crook of his neck.

"Hey, hey, shh," Lucifer soothed. "It's alright. Alastor won't bother you anymore, I'll make sure of it."

"It's n-not him," you sniffled, "it's everything! Al-stor's right, there's no savin' me."

Lucifer pulled you away from him, placing a hand under your chin as he looked into your glassy eyes. "Now what makes you say that?"

Another tear rolled down your face. "Is like he said, what I was taught up there...nothing's true! Welllll, except..." you placed your hand over the one holding your face tenderly. "Theeeyyyyy did say that you, Luciferrrr, were heaven's prettiest angel. They def-liny didn't lie about that!"

You noticed a small blush creep across Lucifer's face at your words. He pulled his and away from your face to clear his throat, glancing away from you. "T-Thank you. That's umm, very kind of you."

You chuckled to yourself, scootching your body closer him. "Do you mind if I *hic*, lay down, jus' for a sec. Gettin' sleepy.

"Yeah, of course!" Lucifer smiled, but only for a moment. "W-Wait, hold on!"

But by the time he tried to warn you, your head had already fallen into his lap. You smiled up at the flustered man and chuckled, the heat returning to your face once more. "You got soft legs, hehe!"

Lucifer inhaled sharply. "Husk was right, you really are drunk. Wouldn't you feel more comfortable laying your head on a pillow?"

"Nnnnope!" you replied.

"Alright then," the king breathed and massaged the back of his neck, doing his best to hide how tense he'd become from your sudden closeness.

"H-Hey," you called up to him, "why'd youuu...why'd you protect me jus' now? From Al-stor. You *hic* didn't have to..."

He looked down at you softly, brushing away the hair that had fallen in your face. "I don't like bullies. You didn't deserve that, and Alastor knows that for his sake that he shouldn't get on my bad side."

"Never seen you so mad." you mumbled.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," he apologized, continuing to play with you hair. "I don't like bringing out that side of me. But Alastor really likes to push his luck for some bizarre reason."

"Awww," you pouted, "is too bad. I liked seeing that side of ya. It was HOT!"

Lucifer stopped his movements completely. “I-I’m sorry?”

“You heard me,” you responded poking at his chest. “What? Did ya think jus’ cuz I was a believer when I was alive that I’d be SCARED of ya? Maybe at first. Not anymore! I’m already in Hell soooo there’s no point in hidin’ it, is there?”

“Hiding what, exactly?” Lucifer gulped as if he was almost too afraid to ask.

You giggles and hid your face with your hands. “Noooo, you’re jus’ gonna laugh at meeee!”

Lucifer let out an amused hum. He gently took ahold of your wrists and lowered your hands away from your now completely beet-colored face. “I promise I won’t laugh at you, my dear. You’ve very much piqued my curiosity! And I’m very good at keeping secrets, you know! So please, let me keep yours.” He let go of your wrists, letting your hands fall onto your chest. You watched as he leaned closer to you, his half-lidded eyes piercing your very soul. “Won’t you tell me, my sweet angel?”

"I...*hic* I umm..." you babbled. It was clear that you were struggling to answer.

"Mind if I take a guess?" Lucifer offered as he went back to playing with your loose locks of hair. "Is it possible that you have a little crush on-"

"I WAN' YOU TO FUCK ME STUPID TILL I CAN'T 'MEMBER MY NAME!" you blurted out without any reservations.

"-me..." Lucifer froze at your confession. You could hear the sound of a pin drop with the deafening silence that now filled the air. With a big inhale, he straightened his back fully, placing both of his hands under you in a flash, not daring to look down at you. "Well, I-I think it's about time we got you to bed!" he nearly shouted as he scooped you up in his arms and stood up faster than normal.

You let out a small squeak of surprise with his sudden motion. With a snap of his fingers, a portal appeared next to you and he quickly carried you across the threshold and into your dimly lit room. With a flick of his wrist, your bedsheets were undone and Lucifer was able to lay you down gently onto your mattress. He reached over you to grab your undone comforter and pulled it on top of you, covering everything but your head.

"Okay! Uhh, s-sleep well!" Lucifer went to run through the portal, but not before you were able to grab his sleeve.

"D-Did I upset you?" you asked nearly on the verge of tears again? Lucifer still hadn't looked at you.

"N-No! No, angel, you didn't upset me!" he tried to sooth you, but you weren't buying it. You couldn't stop more tears running down your face. When Lucifer heard your quiet cries, he finally turned towards you in a state of sheer panic. "Ahh, no!" He kneeled down next to you, wiping your tears away with his free hand. "Please don't cry! I promise I'm not upset!"

"Knew it was stupid...," you sobbed, "shouldn't have told you..."

"Don't say that," the fallen angel cooed. "Okay, okay, look...If uhh, we're admitting things right now, I might as well too. Would that make you feel better?"

You sniffled a bit. "M-Maybe..."

Lucifer shut his eyes and let out a deep sigh. "I've had...similar feelings...about you, that is. So...no more tears, okay?"

You stared at the man before you, completely and utterly baffled by what you had just heard. "R-Really?"

"Yes," he whispered. "But we can talk about this tomorrow, yeah? You need some sleep; it looks like you're about to pass out."

He was right. Your eyelids felt as though they could give out at any moment, and the warmth from your blanket wasn't helping you stay conscious either. As Lucifer stood up, you still clung to his sleeve like your life depended on it. "Stay?" you almost begged.

He smiled weakly, taking your hand from his sleeve, and placing a small peck on the back of it. "Not tonight," he responded. "Sleep now, darling. I'll see you when you wake." You couldn't find the strength to respond, letting yourself drift off to sleep as Lucifer left you to dream.

Little did you know that he had disappeared to take a very cold shower.

****

When you regained consciousness, you felt the familiar pounding in your head after a heavy night of drinking. Begrudgingly you dragged yourself out of you bed and forced your way to your bathroom for a much needed shower. You realized when you glanced towards the mirror that you never changed out of your clothes from yesterday. In fact, you don't even remember how you got back to your room last night, Everything was such a blur, and it hurt to think with the major headache you were experiencing at the moment. The last thing you could recall was falling off the bar stool, the pain you felt in your shoulder was enough of a reminder. Once you stepped in the hot shower, you felt a little better, but only a little bit. You tried to rack your brain for answers, trying to remember exactly what happened after you fell. You ran your fingers through your hair, letting the water soak your aching body. But in doing so, something had clicked. That motion had unlocked a foggy memory. Your hair. Someone had run their hands through your hair last night, but you couldn't for the life of you remember who. It was gentle, soft, tender. But who would do that?

After a few minutes, you stepped out of the shower and threw on one of the sundresses you had hanging in your closet. You really didn't feel like putting a ton of effort into your clothing choices today. Hopefully Charlie would forgive you for skipping out on her planned activity today and let you recover. You realized after that initially thought that you didn't even know what time is was. Chances were you had already missed it. With a groan, you plopped down back onto the mattress, your hair still damp.

"What's the matter with me," you asked yourself. "How do I expect to be redeemed when all I do is sabotage my chances by getting wasted every night?" Your headache persisted as you laid in your bed, you almost wanted to cry from the pain. But then, you heard a soft knocking at your door. Charlie, you thought. More than likely she was checking in on you to make sure you were alright. "I'll be there in a second!" you called out. The volume of your own voice didn't help your hangover in the slightest. You grabbed one of the small pillows off your bed for comfort and trudged your way to your door. "I'm really sorry I slept in Charlie," you spoke as you turned the door handle, "it was a...really rough night for me and I-" you stopped completely once you opened the door fully. Charlie, in fact, was not the one who had knocked.

"Yeah, you really did get put through the ringer last night, didn't you?" Lucifer smiled at you. The pillow you held fell to the floor with a soft thud.

“Oh, I-I’m so sorry, sir!” You stuttered. “I-I thought you were Charlie! Did-Did she send you?”

Lucifer looked at you with a puzzled stare. “Uhh, no, no she didn’t. I told her what happened last night and let her know I’d check in on you like I promised.”

“Promised?” you asked, but Lucifer didn’t seem to hear you.

“And you don’t have to refer to me as “sir,” my dear, “Lucifer” is just fine! I mean, you used my name just fine last night!”

Your heart stopped. “L-Last night? Oh no…what…what happened last night?”

Lucifer gawked at your question. “Wait, do you not remember anything?” You shook your head timidly. “Oh dear…well, nothing bad happened, I promise! What’s the last thing you can remember doing?”

You looked down at the floor sheepishly, embarrassed to admit the real answer. “The last thing I can remember is falling off the bar stool and…landing on my face…”

Lucifer stood there and pondered for a few seconds before speaking again. “Do you mind if I come in?”

“Oh, umm, yeah, y-you can come in,” you agreed. You picked up the pillow you had dropped and opened the door for Lucifer to saunter in. “I’m sorry I look like a mess right now, I-I just got out of the shower and my hair isn’t completely dry yet and-”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright!” Lucifer interrupted. “You don’t need to apologize. You look lovely, in any case.”

You brought the pillow in your hands up to your face in an attempt to hide your blush. “T-Thank you,” your muffled voice came through the pillow. "I-If you want, you can sit down on my b-ahh fuck!" One hand came up to your forehead when you felt your head pounding from the pressure that's been building since you woke up. This was definitely one of your worst hangovers to date.

"Oh! Are you alright?" Lucifer asked, his voice laced with deep concern.

"My head..." you choked out. You made your way over to your bed, crawling up to the top and cradling the pillow in your arms "Hangovers are never really kind to me."

Lucifer frowned, seating himself down on the edge of your mattress next to you. You felt your face flare up again when you looked up at his worried expression. "Can I help you? I can alleviate the pain. You only need ask."

"Y-you can?"

"Sure! Angelic power and all that." His hand hovered just above your forehead. "May I?"

"Yes," you breathed. With that, you felt his soft hand make contact with your aching head. You felt a warm tingling sensation emanating from his touch. It didn't hurt nor was it unpleasant, it was healing. Without thinking, you leaned further into his touch, letting the warmth spread throughout your entire body. Your headache slowly began to fade away along with the fogginess that had been plaguing you since you woke up. As his touch lingered, you realized you were able to think more clearly than before, memories from last night started to become clearer and clearer. You remembered Lucifer had come to your rescue after you'd fallen. You remembered Alastor had shown up to mock you in your drunken stupor, only for Lucifer to step in and defend you. You remember sobbing with Lucifer while he comforted you. Then you remembered...

You shot straight up, your heart racing a million miles a second, with Lucifer throwing his hand back in surprise. "What? What happened? Did I hurt you?" Lucifer asked in a panic.

"I'm..." you began, "I'm starting to remember things from last night." You clutched the pillow tight to your chest, refusing to look in the fallen angel's direction. "Please tell me I didn't actually lay down in your lap..."

"Uhh, well...," You could tell from his response that that's exactly what had happened.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" you apologized. "I shouldn't have done that! I-I know I drank way too much last night, I should have stopped, I didn't realize that-"

Lucifer's hand immediately flew to your shoulder in an attempt to get you to stop you from completely spiraling. "Darling, you don't need to apologize for that! You weren't feeling great so you just, ya know, used me as a pillow. And besides, it's not like I disliked it either."

"W-What?!" you nearly shrieked. Another realization had hit you just then. "You! You were the one that was playing with my hair! That's the only thing I could remember when I woke up!" You buried your face in the pillow once more. "If I said anything embarrassing..."

You heard Lucifer swallow hard. "I guess uhh, it depends on your definition of the word."

"Oh God, please no..." you pleaded. "What did I say?"

Lucifer held up his hand again as an offering, a weary smile on his face. "I can help you to remember, if you wish."

You let out a shaky breath but nodded in agreement. Lucifer's hand once again found its way to your forehead, a familiar warmth flowing through you once more. You closed your eyes and saw the images from last night flash before you. You saw yourself looking up at Lucifer who'd just asked you to tell him your little secret. But as soon as you remembered the drunken words that flew from your mouth at that moment, your eyes shot open and you flung yourself to the opposite side of the bed, as far away from Lucifer as possible.

"No. No! Nononononono!" you panicked, "I didn't-I mean I couldn't have, I...NO!" You couldn't stop yourself from crying into the pillow, ashamed and embarrassed at the thought of your past actions. "This is a nightmare..."

You felt the bed shifting beneath you as Lucifer crawled toward you hesitantly. "I'm sorry," he murmured behind you, "I know you must be feeling a lot of different emotions right now, but it's alr-"

"NO, IT'S NOT ALRIGHT!" You snapped, jumping from the bed in an attempt to put as much distance between you and him as possible. Your rage was quickly replaced with remorse when you saw Lucifer's shocked, almost hurt expression. You took a deep breath before speaking again. "I didn't mean you scream at you like that, I'm sorry...but you don't understand..."

"Then help me understand," Lucifer asked, now kneeling on the bed. "Please?"

You looked away from him and down to the ground, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest at the thought of explaining yourself to the literal king of Hell. "I...I grew up in church. I was raised as a believer. Told to be a “good girl." I was taught my entire life that Hell was a place to be feared, a place where the most evil of people end up. And I would be wise to fear it as well and repent so I would not end up there...uhh, here. That clearly didn't help me now, did it?" You let yourself drop to the bed again, letting your legs dangle over the sides. "My entire worldview just seemed to crumble around me when I started staying here at the hotel. Sure, there are some awful people here, but...it feels as though this "divine judgement" is...just completely fucked up! The guests here are better people than most believers I knew when I was alive! How is that right? How is that fair?!"

"Well," Lucifer interjected, "I can tell you first hand that Heaven is definitely not what it seems. I mean, have you seen the things they've said about me in that book of theirs?" he laughed, trying his best to lighten the mood.

You twisted your head over your shoulder, staring back at him with complete intensity. "And you!" You shot back up on your feet in an instant, pacing back and forth as Lucifer watched you completely mesmerized. "Where do I even start with you? You're Lucifer, the devil himself, the great deceiver, and temptation incarnate! Everything I was ever told about you is bullshit! You've been nothing but hospitable ever since I've been here! You protected me from Alastor last night! You took care of me while I was drunk! You didn't have to do any of those things, you shouldn't have done any of those things! You're not evil and it's...it's driving me to the brink! When Charlie had told me that you were her father, I was PETRIFIED! But nothing could have prepared me for finding out who you really were."

Lucifer slowly crawled towards you, climbing off the bed and now standing before you, perhaps just a tad too close for your comfort. "And who am I?" he asked softly.

Instinctively, your body drew itself closer and closer to his, as if you had no control of your movements anymore. "You're...an angel," you sighed.

Lucifer smiled at you, timidly resting his hand on your forehead. "Would you like to remember the rest of last night?"

"I already embarrassed myself enough to the point of no return so I might as well," you huffed shyly.

Lucifer chuckled, "Don't worry, the worst is over. But at least now you'll get to remember my favorite part."

The last of your aches in your body finally subsided as you let the rest of your previously forgotten memories flood your mind. It made sense that Lucifer would have been the one to bring you back to your room. Seeing yourself cry was not surprising to you, but what was surprising was Lucifer's admittance of reciprocated desires. You opened your eyes at last to the angel's sheepish grin. You took a half step away from him, your face feeling like the core of a raging volcano.

"You...you really..." was all you could muster.

"I'm not above embarrassing myself either, my dear," he joked, "I'd say we're even now."

"T-That's not even remotely close to being even!" you babbled.

Lucifer grinned and closed the gap between the two of you, taking one of your hands in his. "Regardless," he mused, "I meant what I said. Every word. And if you'd like to discuss this further, I'd be more than happy to listen." He pressed a small peck to the back of your hand just as he did last night. Even though your hangover had completely vanished, the brain fog had come back in full force. Maybe Lucifer was truly temptation incarnate.

"I-I can't believe this," you stutter, pulling your hand away from his and throwing yourself back onto your bed and covering your reddened face with your hands. "This has to be a dream, there's no way this is real! I'm sure I'm still passed out drunk right now! You're not supposed to be this way! You're supposed to be cruel and wicked and manipulative! Not..."

"Suave and oh so devilishly handsome?" Lucifer smirked.

"You're not helping!" You felt the mattress fold further under Lucifer's weight as he sat down next to you. "So...w-what happens now?"

"I mean, I can think of a few things," he answered smugly. "But in all seriousness, nothing will happen. Not unless you say otherwise."

"See, it's stuff like that!" you shouted, suddenly sitting up right. "Being respectful and considerate, constantly making sure I'm comfortable? That's not who you're supposed to be! I've just been fucking lied to my whole life and I'm PISSED and I'm finding it extremely difficult to not just...just...oh FUCK IT!"

Without warning, you grabbed Lucifer by the collar and crashed your lips into his. He let out a surprised yelp, but you had quickly swallowed it as his shock turned into pure bliss. His hands quickly found your face, cupping them and massaging your red-hot cheeks with his thumbs. Your annoyance had faded almost immediately, your fierce kiss had turned soft and passionate with his tender touch. You were the first to pull away, only to be met with Lucifer's pleading gaze.

"S-So much for being a good girl," Lucifer teased.

You pushed his face away gently. "I hate you!"

"That kiss suggested otherwise, darling."

"You should stop talking," you threatened.

"You should make me," he challenged.

In an instant, you were straddling Lucifer’s lap, your legs flush against his. You gripped the brim of his hat and tossed it to the floor below. You leaned in for another kiss, but this one was hungrier, needier. His lips were soft and you had already become addicted to his taste. You felt his jagged tongue brush against your bottom lip, and you pulled back in shock. “Is your tongue…” Lucifer flashed a cheeky smile and stuck out his tongue playfully. Sure enough, a forked snake tongue hung between his lips. “O-Oh, okay…” You weren’t sure how you never noticed before right now, but your lack of observation skills were the furthest thing from your mind right now. You closed your eyes and leaned in again, your mouth slightly ajar, basically begging for him to invade your mouth. To which Lucifer happily obliged. You felt his tongue slip past your teeth, entangling itself with yours. His hands had shifted down to your hips, kneading and lightly squeezing at your skin underneath your dress. The feeling of his claws pressing into you sent a shiver down your spine. More, more, more was the only thing you could think at the moment. But just as you got used to the feeling of his lips, Lucifer was the one to pull away this time. A tiny whimper escaped you. “Don’t worry, angel,” Lucifer cooed, “we have time. All the time in the world, in fact. I just want to make sure you’re alright. Do you want to keep going?”

The passion you felt was quickly replaced with fear. It hadn’t occurred to you that you had neglected to mention a pretty crucial piece of information. “Yes, I-I do, but umm…I should tell you…”

“Yes?”

“I…haven’t exactly…” you gulped trying to find the right words. “I haven’t been with anyone before…”

“Wait, wait,” Lucifer froze, “you’ve never-”

“No!” You cut him off. “L-Look, when it’s been drilled into your head since you were a child that premarital sex is going to send you to Hell, you’re going to avoid it!”

Lucifer let out a deep sigh, then chuckled to himself. “Okay, I have to admit something. That whole “sex before marriage is a sin” thing miiiiigggghhhhttt be my fault.” You raised an eyebrow. “They never got over the fact that I more or less stole Adam’s first wife. Of course we weren’t married at that point! Heaven’s been petty ever since.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh, so it’s YOUR fault that I’m a virgin! Good to know.”

“Forgive me.” Lucifer allowed himself to lay flat on his back, with you following close behind. He raised his head and brought his lips to your ear. “But at your word, I’d be more than happy to rectify this injustice,” he whispered softly.

Goosebumps covered both of your arms at his words. You knew your face must have turned a new shade of red the way Lucifer smirked at you. You lowered yourself on his crotch out of spite and began to grind your hips lethargically. It was your turn to embarrass him. His breath caught in his throat from your motions, you could already feel that your lewd actions were having an effect on the man beneath you. The growing bulge in his pants that you felt on your own clothed heat had you salivating.

"You know, I-I'm not a complete novice," you admitted, your hands now making your way down his jacket, undoing every button with care. "I have a few tricks up my sleeve."

Lucifer pushed you back upright, now straddling his lap once more, and slipped himself out of his undone shirt. Aa you gripped his bare It took everything in your power not to stare at his perfectly toned chest. "And what "tricks"-hngg…would those be?"

You placed a chaste kiss to his lips before sliding off of his lap and kneeling on the floor in front of him. Lucifer's breath hitched instantly at the sight before him. You rested your palms on his inner thighs, your rapid breathing betraying your faux collected exterior. "I figured since I couldn't break the rules, I could at least bend them."

Lucifer firmly gripped the sheets beneath him as he watched your thumbs trace circles near his crotch. "Already on your knees for me, sweetheart?” he teased, running a hand from the top of your head, relishing in the softness of your hair, and down to the tip of your chin. “I didn’t know my powers of temptation would work so well on someone as devout as you.” You failed to hide the whimper that escaped your throat. “I’m sorry, I know I’m teasing you too much. I’ll stop if-”

“N-No, don’t stop…” you responded almost inaudibly.

A sultry laugh emanated from the man above you. “Oh, is that so?” You nodded. “Use your words, love.”

You shivered. “Please… remind me of my place…sir…”

He tilted your head up towards him, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Whatever you wish, my angel. You let me know if I go too far, okay?”

“Yes, I will.”

“Good girl,” he murmured. “Now, I believe you wanted to show me something?”

You took a deep breath before reaching out for the zipper and button of his pants. You made slow work of them, trying to be as delicate as possible. You grabbed both the hems of his pants and boxers, Lucifer raising himself up so you could more easily shimmy the remainder of his clothing off. His hardened cock sprang free, your face boiling from seeing the very obvious precum that had already begun leaking from the tip. After tossing away his pants, gripped Lucifer’ s hips and brought him as close to the edge of the bed as possible, your lips now mere inches away from his impressive length. You swallowed harshly. Breathing became an increasingly difficult task. With tentative hands, you reached out and lightly gripped the base of Lucifer's cock, his low moan sent pleasure straight between your thighs. There was no going back now.

"Go ahead, my dear," Lucifer encouraged, "show me how sinful those hands of yours are."

Without any further prodding, your hand move languidly up and down his cock, the precum providing enough lubrication for smooth strokes. Lucifer groaned above you, his sounds were everything you'd imagined and more. Your strokes became faster, needing to hear more of Lucifer coming undone from your touch alone. But even touching him wasn't enough to satisfy your desires. Your hot breath so close to his most sensitive area had Lucifer shuttering. And even more so when you decided to run your tongue from the base of his cock to the very tip. You'd finally gotten your first taste of him, and that sent you into a complete frenzy. Your tongue worked circles around the head of his length and you could hear Lucifer's guttural moans turn into whimpers of pure ecstasy.

"F-Fuck," Lucifer managed to choke out as he watched you bob your head and down, taking as much of him as you could manage. "You-mnmm...s-sure seem to know what you're doing. S-Shhiiittt...I-I'm starting to think you-GA-AAHH...you really do b-belong down here." Lucifer's composure was fading fast even though he continued his taunting. His words lit a fire within in, increasing your movements to an unrelenting pace. "O-OH FFFFUU-UUCCCKK," he screeched, his hand now tightening around your hair for an assemblance of stability. His overstimulated cock twitched in your mouth; you knew he was close. "Y-You're gonna make me c-cum if you keep doing thaa-ahhhht...but t-that's what you want, isn't it? You wanna taste m-my cum, sweet girl?"

"M-Mhmm," you hummed blissfully, your mouth and hand working in tandem to bring him over the edge.

"Then d-don't stop," he commanded.

You did exactly as he said, not slowing down for even a second. The thought of kneeling before the outcasted being that you were meant to despise with every inch of your soul drove you mad. Now here you were, unraveling him with your hands and mouth alone. Lucifer was using all of his willpower to not thrust his hips into you and completely fuck your mouth. That would have to wait for another time. But once your other hand started to gently massage his balls, it was over. "Fuck fuck fuck FUCKFUCKFUCK-CUMMING," he cried out before finally emptying himself inside your mouth. You couldn't move away even if you wanted to the way he way holding your head in place. But you were perfectly content swallowing every drop of his hot cum. When the twitching stopped, he had released his grip on you, allowing you to pull away from him and gulp down the last of his seed. You looked up at him with a nervous smile, your hands now resting on his knees.

"H-How'd I do?" you laughed sheepishly. But your laugh faded once you saw the change in Lucifer's appearance. His eyes were no longer his normal soft yellow, but a deep crimson red.

"Oh, my sweet little angel," his voice dripping with desire, "you were nothing short of absolute perfection. How absolutely filthy you are for swallowing all of my cum. I love it!" He offered his hand to you, helping you off of the ground. He stood with you, pulling at the bottom of your dress. "But I'm far from being done with you." With a soft "yes", your dress was dragged over your head and tossed to the side in one swift motion, leaving you nothing but your matching black bra and panties. Lucifer stood there drinking in your form, his outstretched tongue swishing from side to side. "Gorgeous," he hummed against your skin before bringing his hot mouth to your neck. You squeaked at the sensation, but your surprise rapidly shifted to wanton moans. His sharp teeth and forked tongue raked across your pulse, sending waves of pleasure throughout your entire body. "I'll make sure everyone knows you're mine now..." he pulled away and looked up at you pleadingly, "that is, if you'll have me."

You smiled, tears now pricking the corner or your eyes. "I'm already yours."

Lucifer's breath had caught in his throat as he captured your lips, your mouth being invaded by his eager tongue. He hoisted you up by your hips, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips as you hooked your arms around his neck to pull him even closer than before. He laid you down on the bed sweetly, now crawling his way up towards you. Lucifer's body now completely enveloped yours. The angel's disheveled hair and the sweat dripping from his forehead was truly a breathtaking sight. His captivating red eyes felt as though they were piercing your very soul, searching for every hidden desire you had locked away. Lucifer licked his lips seductively. "If my memory serves, I recall a certain someone telling me that they found my unholier side...oh, what was the word..." Lucifer feigned forgetfulness as his horns appeared from his skull, "Ahh, yes, I remember now. "Hot." Isn't that right, darling?"

Your face flushed furiously. You mentally cursed your drunken self as you looked up at Lucifer's smug expression. His demonic features made you quiver with anticipation. You've all but sold your soul to the devil himself and you were more than willing to give him everything he wanted. His red claws made quick work of your bra, unclasping it with ease and throwing it across the room. The urge to cover yourself was overwhelming, but it was like Lucifer could read your every thought. He held both of your wrists and placed them above your head, holding them there with just one hand while the other made its way towards your chest.

“Be a good girl and keep your hands there for me,” he ordered.

You nodded obediently. You clung onto the pillows above you as Lucifer let go of your wrists, placing both of his hands on your supple breasts, mewling from the stimulation. Lucifer pinched your nipples, rubbing them gently between his clawed fingers. The sharp ends of his claws poked at your skin while he continued his ministrations. Your meek whimpers turned into moans.

“L-Lucifer, please…” you begged. “I-I need-GAH…”

“I adore the way you say my name, love,” he praised. “Say it again.”

“Luciferrr…” you whined.

He rewarded you with a kiss. “What a pretty voice you have, all desperate and needy for me. So willing to submit…”

He let his mouth fall on one of your nipples, lapping and sucking the sensitive bud while kneading at your other breast. Your nails dug into the pillows, fighting every urge to reach out and touch him. But you couldn’t stand it, obedience truly had its disadvantages.

“Please Lucifer, l-let me touch you,” the request fell from your lips in a desperate plea. “Let me hold you…”

“Hmmm,” his lips reverberated against you. “Patience, love, patience.” Lucifer’s demonic tail appeared suddenly behind him, swaying back and forth. You watched as it lowered itself close to the hem of your panties. Slowly, it inched its way underneath and found itself between your slick folds. You couldn’t hold back a gasp once you realized what Lucifer had planned. “Allow me to try something first.” After giving him the "okay", you felt him flick his tail against your clit, causing you to arch your back, moaning unashamedly in the process. It was circling your swollen nub slowly at first, but quickly built up to a relentless pace. Your body shook uncontrollably as his tail abused your clit. “The way your body reacts to me is such a wonderful sight to behold, sweetheart. Look at you, so easily corrupted.”

It wasn’t long before you cried out in absolute pleasure. You could feel that coil in your stomach ready to snap. You'd barely been touched and you were helpless to fight against your impending release. “F-Fuu-aaahhhh Lu-Lucifer! I-I can’t-HHAAAA-gonna c-cum…g-gonna-FFFUCK!” Lucifer ignored your cries, only focusing on your breasts as you writhed under his touch. You screamed as your sudden orgasm hit you like a freight train, your walls clenching around nothing.

With a low chuckle, Lucifer removed his tail from your drenched slit, admiring your complete fucked out face. "You did so well," he praised, "I promise I'll get you some new panties soon, it wasn't very nice of me to let you ruin yours." You turned your face away from his to hide your embarrassment, only for Lucifer to give you a small peck on your very reddened cheek. "You can move your arms now, darling." At his word, you released the death grip you had on the pillows behind you and pulled Lucifer in for another deep kiss. You felt his lips curl into a smile against yours. "Would you like to keep going?"

"Yes."

"Hehe, so eager," he said poking your nose, "it's adorable. I think it's only fair that I get to have my fill of you now, don't you think?"

Your pupils dilated. "O-Oh, you mean..."

"Is something wrong?" he asked nervously.

"No! No, nothing's wrong," you reassured him, "it's just that...no one's ever offered to uhh, do that for me."

A mix of annoyance and confusion flashed across his face. "Wait, what?!" He sat up straight, resting his full weight on your stomach. "So, let me see if I'm understanding this correctly. You've gone down on men before but not one of them ever offered to return the favor?" You shook your head nervously. A fearsome growl erupted from Lucifer's throat and his eyes had turned a glowing red for just a moment; you couldn't help but shiver. "I'm sorry, but that's inexcusable! Hell isn't enough of a punishment for men like that. To only take and never give back." Lucifer made his way off of you and helped you sit upright against the pillows. "Please allow me to make up for their sins."

"O-Okay," you responded weakly, "only if you want to. I never want you to feel like you have to do anything for me."

He leaned into you for a tender kiss. "Darling, I want nothing more than to ravish you in every way possible; you deserve that and much, much more." You couldn't help but blush at his flattering words. "Lift your legs for me?" You did as he asked, allowing him to tug at the hem of your panties. You held your breath as you watched him drag them down the length of your legs and toss them away carelessly. You closed your legs instinctively, though you realized it was a little bit too late to try and hide yourself from him at this point. Lucifer only smiled and positioned himself in front of you, resting his hands on your knees. "It's alright, take your time," he soothed.

You nodded and let out the breath you had been holding. Lethargically, you began to part your legs for him, letting him finally drink in the sight of your soaked entrance. You noticed him gulp in response and couldn't hide the small smirk on your face. "Like what you see?"

Lucifer licked his lips mindlessly, staring at you like you were a meal to be devoured. "You have no idea," he answered, never taking his eyes away from of your glistening pussy. He laid himself down on his stomach, trailing soft kisses on either side of your inner thighs, leaving nothing but tender bite marks and hickies in his wake. With each passing second you became more and more restless, wanting nothing more than this torment to end. But Lucifer was savoring every bit of you and your heart couldn't help but feel full. At last, you felt his hot breath against your pussy, your body tensed at the sensation.

"Lucifer..." you whispered.

He placed one final kiss to your thigh. "For as long as I live, I'll never tire of hearing you say my name," he spoke sweetly, "Relax for me as much as you can now, love. And if you need to, you can grab my horns. They're there to help you."

"W-Why would I need to gra-AAAHHH" you tried to ask but were cut short after feeling Lucifer take a long, languid lick up your folds. It was something you'd never felt before, but you knew you needed more of it, and you needed it now. Luckily for you, the fallen angel between your thighs was more than happy to provide. His lips were pressed firmly against your aching cunt while his tongue quickly found your clit. The noises you were making were unholy but you couldn't imagine a more heavenly feeling. He moaned against you desperately, as if your essence was his life source. Without warning, Lucifer tossed your legs over his shoulders to give him better access to his prize. In your haze, you remembered his suggestion and took ahold of his demonic horns, doing your best to keep yourself grounded.

"God damn it," Lucifer snarled, "To think no one has done this for you, f-fuck, what complete and utter fools they were. I've never tasted something so divine." You felt his claws dig into your skin as he forced his tongue deeper into you, drawing out the dirtiest sounds you didn't know you could make.

"F-Feels so g-good," you babbled, your hands tightening around his horns. "P-Please don't stop, I-I..."

One of Lucifer's arms unhooked itself from your leg, his fingers now prodding at your slick. His tongue never stopped circling your clit as you felt a single finger slip inside you with ease. You whimpered from the sudden intrusion. "C'mon baby, need you to cum f'me." Another finger quickly entered you, two of them now thrusting in and out of you. "Let me taste you, all of you." Lucifer's tail swished behind him as he focused on coaxing another orgasm out of you. His tongue and fingers worked together to bring you closer and closer to the edge once more. His fingers curled inside you, your back arching as he hit your most sensitive spot with each motion. "I can feel you clenching...you're so close..."

And he was right. That same coil in your lower stomach was as tight as it could be, the knot threatening to unravel at any moment. "Lucif-fer, I-I'm gonna...fuckfuckfuck-GAAAHHH!" With little warning, your second orgasm hit hard, your walls now pulsating around Lucifer's fingers which refused to stop moving. You felt yourself empty onto his face, your cries filling the room, your hands stinging from how tightly you held onto his horns. As Lucifer helped work you down from your high, you couldn't help but notice the loud slurping sound that came from beneath you. He was lapping your cunt like a man starved. After another moment or two, Lucifer gazed up at you adoringly, his mouth completely drenched in your juices. Your hands flew to your face out of pure embarrassment. How could someone look so happy after basically being assaulted by your orgasm. "Y-You can't just look at me like that after you just did what you did!" you berated him.

"Look at you like what?" he teased, crawling on all fours and closing the gap between you. He gently pulled your hands away from your burning face and gave you the toothiest grin you'd ever seen from him. "Look at you like I'm the luckiest man in existence, you mean?" Lucifer kissed you once more, and you could taste the faintest hint of yourself on his lips. "And by the way, I'm absolutely addicted to your taste now, my angel. I hope you don't mind if I indulge myself every single day from now on. With your permission, of course."

You could only smile at him, caressing his face in your hands and locking your lips together once more. "Who would've thought the devil himself would be this perfect? I'm starting to believe that you may have fully corrupted me, my king."

The way his title rolled off your tongue made Lucifer shudder. "Not quite yet," he corrected. He laid you down gently as he trailed kisses down your neck and collarbone, stopping periodically to nip and suck as many parts of your exposed skin as he could. He then laid his full weight on top of you, and you could feel his hardened cock resting on your stomach. Your mouth ran dry, but you never needed something as much as you needed this. Needed him. To fully claim you and make you his. "Is this what you want?" Lucifer asked. "Because if you're not ready, we can stop right now. I won't be upset if that's what you decide."

You shook your head assuredly. "I'm ready, Lucifer. Even though I may not ever make it into Heaven after this, I'm not sure I want to anymore if it meant I'd have to leave you behind." You could tell by Lucifer's sudden change in expression that the thought of losing you if you were to be redeemed had never crossed his mind. His face fell at the realization, but you reassured him with a quick peck to his forehead. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere. And we can worry about the details later. But right now..." you ground your hips up into him, forcing a low moan out of your lover, "...I need you...please…"

"Oh, you're just a little devil, aren't you?” Lucifer chuckled darkly. He then pushed himself off you, settling himself between your legs. The head of his cock teased your entrance, and you gulped in anticipation. "Are you ready?”

"Y-Yes," you murmured. Your body instinctively bucked up in attempt to create more friction that you so desperately craved. Lucifer pressed your hips down firmly into the mattress to keep you from squirming. You whimpered in protest.

“Ah ah ah, all in good time,” Lucifer cooed. “It’s your first time, love, I don’t want to see you in any pain. Stay perfectly still for me, alright?” After what felt like an eternity, Lucifer at last pushed the tip of his cock into you. Your knuckles turned a solid white from the way you gripped the bed sheets beneath you. The pressure you felt was unlike anything else. “A-Are you still okay?” Lucifer asked.

“M-More, please Lucifer, I-I need…” you choked out. He was only an inch deep inside of you and the only thing on your mind was the carnal desire of having him fully sheathed inside of you.

“My pretty girl,” he whispered above you. Inch by inch, his hips pushed forward, stretching you out beyond what you thought was possible. Once he was finally fully inside of you, you and him moaned in unison. The complete fullness you were experiencing was something you needed to be engrained into your memory forever. He didn’t move for a minute or so, letting your body get used to his above average length. He didn’t want to break you. At least, not tonight. "S-So tight, f-fuck..." Lucifer's entire body quivered as his enormous angelic wings magically sprung from his back. You stared up at him in awe, taking in the heavenly sight above you. Your eyes followed from the base of his wings to the very tip. Lucifer noticed your gawking and laughed lightly. "My eyes are over here, darling."

You blushed incredibly hard. "S-Sorry, I didn't mean to stare. It's just...they're beautiful. Can I...? You didn't need to finish your question as Lucifer dropped his wings down, allowing you to reach up and feel them for the first time. You ran your hand down each set, your fingers combing through his scarlet feather. They twitched under your gentle touch. "Are they sensitive?"

"V-Very much," Lucifer breathed. "We can experiment another time, though."

"A-Another time?"

Lucifer looked down you puzzled. "I hope you didn't think this would only be a one time thing. That's not who I am, despite anything you may have heard. When I said I wanted everyone to know you were mine, I didn't mean just for tonight."

Your eyes began to water from his declaration. "You mean..."

Lucifer leaned down and kissed the tears that had began to fall down your cheek. "Yes, I do. I'm yours, if that's what you desire."

You smiled weakly, holding back a sob. "Yes, it is." You brought your hands up, cupping his face and kissing his trembling lips tenderly. Your kiss caused Lucifer to twitch inside of you, quickly reminding you of the pressure between your legs. "Y-You can move now, Lucifer...please..."

With a deep exhale, Lucifer pulled out of you slowly, only to snap his hips back with no hesitation. He repeated this motion, slowly at first, coaxing as many sound out of you as he could. Your cries of pleasure were intoxicating, pulling him deeper and deeper into a state of pure bliss. His hips rutted into you at a steady pace as he continued to hit your G-spot effortlessly with each thrust.

"You're d-doing so well, love," he growled animalistically, "t-taking me so well. You f-feel so good. Too good...Take it all f'me, want you to feel all of m-me. Look how g-good you are, taking the Devil's cock like this."

"L-Lucifer," you mewled. You couldn't form a coherent thought anymore, all you could manage to say was his name. "Lucifer, f-fuuu-uuck...Luciferrr."

"That's it, dear," he praised, the pace of his thrusts quickening. "My name on y-your lips is more beautiful than any melody I ever heard in Heaven." His grip on your hips tightened, pulling you closer to him as he mercilessly pounded into you over and over. "G-God, you're so fucking wet. Slipping in and out of you s-so easily. You g-gonna cum for me again?"

"Y-Yes!" you cried out helplessly. "I'm close, so c-close, I can't..." Your hands flew around his neck as your body shook violently beneath the fallen angel. Your stomach felt like it was in knots, you didn't know how much longer you could hold out. "G-Gonna cu-aaaAAHH,"

"Hold on j-just a little longer, baby," Lucifer said, wrapping his tail around your abdomen. "I'm close too...w-where do you want me to-"

"INSIDE! P-PLEASE!" you screamed, locking your legs behind his back. "I c-can't hold it, Lucifer, I can't, I can't, I CAN'T!"

"Naughty girl..." he taunted lovingly. "Cum for me now, angel. Need t-to feel you clench around me. Cum for me."

The coil inside of you snapped for a third time, your walls pulsating around Lucifer's cock. Your spasms had left Lucifer groaning, his head now resting on your collarbone. His own orgasm washed over him not long after you. You milked his cock, his hot angelic seed filling you up your cunt completely. Wave after wave of pleasure filled you both, reducing you to nothing but exhausted and sweaty messes. He stayed inside of you for a moment longer, both of you trying to recover from your release. Lucifer finally found enough strength to remove himself from you, and at long last reverting back to his normal state. He crashed down on top of you, looking at your through his half-lidded eyes and pulling you into a crushing hug.

"Lucifer...can't...breathe..." you forced out, tapping his shoulder rapidly. His grip on you loosened immediately.

"I'm sorry!" he apologized. "I forget my own strength sometimes. H-How are you feeling?"

Your faced flushed as you tucked your hair behind your ear. "G-Good. More than good. That was...just incredible!" you couldn't help but laugh to yourself.

"What's so funny, dear?" Lucifer asked with an amused look.

You smiled at him. "Oh, you know just...I was thinking about how I would go about explaining myself to my friends and family back on Earth. How the well behaved, never strayed from the light church girl just had the best sex of her life with the one and only fallen angel Lucifer. Wonder how well that would go over! They probably think I made it into Heaven!"

Lucifer laughed along with you, pulling you flush to his chest. "I'll admit, it's pretty ironic. But to be fair, I never would have thought you'd give me a chance."

You looked up at him confused. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you know, I am 'the bad guy' to believers. The winners always write history, and according to Heaven, I was the loser. And when I found out you were one of them when you were alive, I didn't think you'd even glance in my direction. I thought you were the most stunning creature I'd ever laid my eyes on when you first arrived here at the hotel. But I never truly pursued you because...the bad guy never gets the girl, right?"

You couldn't help but frown as he spoke. His voice was sad, full of hurt. It was clear that Lucifer has suffered though a lot of pain and anguish. You were told the story of Eden growing up, of how Lucifer had deceived Eve and in doing so, caused the downfall of humanity. But that was clearly only one side of the story. You gave a quick peck to his cheek. "You're not a bad guy, Lucifer. I know that now. I let my fear and my upbringing cloud my judgement before. Not anymore. I want to hear your side of the story, every detail. Will you stay with me and tell me?"

Lucifer's eyes softened, his lips forming into a tiny smile. "I'd love nothing more." He brought his hand to your cheek, leaning in to capture your lips once more.

~~~

10,000 GOD DAMN WORDS, WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!?! ANYWAY, I HOPED YOU LIKED IT!

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[lemonlover1110]

𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑

Toji Fushiguro

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: Ever since you spilled coffee on your co-worker, you find yourself getting in compromising situations with him.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, co-worker Toji, office sex, oral sex (m. receiving), gagging, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, praise, semi-public sex(?? they're in the janitor's closet in the first part and there's people outside)

*Finally the last one!!! thank you all so much for 10k again🥹 I'm almost at 13k now so thank you all so much for your support, I love you all so very much

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Apart from his name, you don’t know anything about the man you work with. Toji sits next to you eight hours a day, yet you’ve never gotten to properly know him. You have no idea if he’s married, if he has kids, a pet– What waits for him when he gets home? Does he have any hobbies? The only time you ever talk is about work, and you typically wouldn’t care about knowing your coworkers if it weren’t for the fact that you constantly find yourself daydreaming over Toji.

What you like the most about Toji may be the fact that he barely speaks since it leaves you questioning everything about his personality. You make a perfect version of your co-worker in your head which has you head over heels for him. It certainly doesn’t help that Toji is exactly the type of man who you want behind you, fucking you senseless.

You hate to have those types of thoughts in the middle of the day, and worst of all, you’re mindlessly staring at him, and it’s too late to turn away when he asks you what’s wrong. He clears his throat, and you feel your face burning hot when he asks, “Is everything okay? Do I have something on my shirt?”

“Oh– No! Sorry…” You can’t play it off much since you stared at him like a lovesick teenage girl. You try to ignore the awkward interaction by looking back at your computer, trying to go back to work, trying to ignore the very embarrassing fact that Toji caught you daydreaming.

You feel his eyes on you as you turn back to your work, and you swear you could crawl in a hole and die of embarrassment. His gaze lingers on you for a moment before Toji turns his attention back to his own job. You don’t stress about it, completely forgetting about the awkward interaction after five minutes. 

You work fine throughout the afternoon, and when you finally get out of your chair to take a break, you bump into him. Toji’s coffee spills all over his white button up shirt, making a gasp leave your lips. Toji doesn’t have much of a reaction even though the coffee looks hot. Your immediate reaction is to rub your long sleeve on his shirt to try to clean it up. You’re repeating, “Oh, I’m so sorry, I should watch where I’m going.”

“It’s fine. You’re fine.” Toji just holds his arms up as if he were being threatened by a gun. Toji isn’t a man that gets flustered easily but by the way you’re unintentionally touching him to clean him up, his cheeks burn. “It’s fine, really. I’ll just clean up in the bathroom–”

“I’m sorry.” You jerk back when you realize just how much you’ve been touching him without his permission. He lets out a chuckle, making it seem that it’s fine. It was an honest mistake, he surely doesn’t mind if a pretty girl bumps into him… Now, if it was one of the old guys that work in the office, it’d be a whole different story. You watch him walk away, mentally cursing at yourself for being so fucking dumb.

You notice the mess on the floor and you tiptoe around it to go to the janitor’s closet and get some stuff to clean it up. You enter the small room, turning on the light to look for some paper towels. You click your tongue, seeing that they’re on the top shelf.

You stand on your tippy toes trying to reach a roll but they’re too far back for you. Would it be too embarrassing to jump? Nobody is watching… Just when you’re about to jump, you feel a body pressed against your back. Your head slowly turns, and luckily, you find your handsome co-worker, grabbing the paper towel for you. 

“Here you go.” He gives it to you when you turn around, and you awkwardly smile at him as you take it from his hand.

“Thank you, Fushiguro. Again, I’m so sorry.” You repeat. You feel your heart skip a beat when you realize just how close he is, hearing him breathe and feeling the warmth that his body gives. His dark green eyes are filled with lust, and he makes no effort in disguising it. You’re flattered, really, but this isn’t appropriate considering where you’re at.

“Please, call me Toji.” He licks his lips, and you feel as if you’re burning up. The heat his body emits really doesn’t help you cool you down either. Your eyes look at the door that’s closed for a reason… It’s locked.

You’ve imagined this scenario one too many times, and you always imagined yourself as the most confident woman in the world– But as it happens to you, you’re too shy to really do anything. “I’ve seen the way you look at me… And thought of a way your pretty face could make up for my ruined shirt.”

“Toji…” Is all that manages to leave your pathetic lips. You’re not scared, your body is practically begging for his touch. “It’s not appropriate to do what you want to do here.”

“Why not? The door is locked.” He says as he grabs your hand and puts it on his belt. His lips meet yours, his tongue going past your lips and wandering around in your mouth before it presses against yours. He’s just like you imagined, intoxicating.

Your hands begin to move on their own, undoing his belt and unbuttoning his pants. You can’t take too long since you have to get back to work soon, it’ll be quick, hopefully. You pull away from the kiss, getting on your knees. You pull down his briefs, letting his cock free from its confinement. It’s more than you expected.

You lick your lip before biting down and looking up at him. He has a smirk on his face as he waits for you to do more than just stare. Your tongue licks up from the base to the tip before fully wrapping your mouth around it, taking as much as you can get.

You bob your head slowly, starting off slow. And as Toji feels your pretty little mouth wrapped around his cock, he thinks that maybe this wasn’t his brightest idea. He lets out a breathy moan, feeling so good. Your bobs begin to pick up a bit of speed, and the man stops talking for a second to enjoy the feeling of your mouth wrapped around his cock. 

“You look so pretty on your knees like that. You’re just a pretty little thing.” He sighs, relieved. He decides to bite his bottom lip, holding back moans so the whole office doesn’t hear him as you suck him off. “Your mouth feels so fucking good.”

You look up at him, pleased with what you’re doing. You’re doing what you’ve always thought of doing with him– But you’re in the office. You can’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be heard. But he got a bit too caught up, enjoying the feeling of your mouth and your tongue. 

He grabs the back of your head and pushes your head so you gag on his cock. It’s your punishment for ruining his shirt. Your gagging is like music to his ears, the greatest melody he has ever heard.

“Fuck– Fuck-” He moans as a couple of tears leave your eyes. He begins to move his hips, which he finds more fun than just pushing your head on his cock. “God, such a pretty girl taking my cock.”

He’s completely forgotten about the fact that you’re in the office, and he’s getting loud. He’s staring down at you, admiring just how beautiful you look with your mouth wrapped around him. He lets out a groan, filling your mouth with his cum. 

He finally lets go of your head, and you take your mouth off his cock. You swallow most of his cum, but some of it manages to escape and it drips down the corners of your mouth. Toji bends down to clean it up, pressing you to open your mouth so he can wipe the remaining cum on your tongue. 

“You have to fix your makeup, by the way. I’ll see you out there.” Toji says, fixing his pants before unlocking the door and leaving you to fix yourself up.

You’d definitely be mad being left alone so fast after sucking a guy off, but you can’t be mad at him. If anything, it makes you want him even more.

“Hey, can you help me with this?” Toji asks, eyes focused on the new program that you’re working with. It’s no surprise that he doesn’t know how to use it– Not that you want to be rude but it makes sense.

After your little encounter in the janitor’s closet, Toji hasn’t really tried to do anything else with you. You were slightly disappointed but you managed to move on. What really worried you was any of your co-workers hearing how he moaned while you two just managed to be locked in the janitor’s closet. What really made things confusing was the fact that you came back with no paper towels even though you were going to clean up the mess you just made. 

“Yeah sure.” You’re sure that it won’t take too long. You’re off in around thirty minutes, teaching him shouldn’t take longer than five minutes.

At least that’s what you thought, it seems that Toji isn’t smart enough to catch on with it quickly. Your co-workers begin to leave one by one, and when you’re the last ones in the office, you’re convinced that Toji isn’t even qualified for the job. Until you realize that Toji isn’t even paying attention, his eyes have been ogling your cleavage the entire time… It’s not like you can even blame the poor guy since your boobs have been practically on his face the entire time.

“Should we continue this tomorrow? It seems your eyes are elsewhere.” You point out, and he lets out a chuckle.

“I agree. We should continue with that tomorrow. I need help with something else though.” Toji says, clicking out of the program.

“Can we do it tomorrow–” You begin but he shakes his head. You furrow your brows in confusion as you watch him turn off the computer. What exactly does he need help with?

Toji stands up from his chair, taking two steps to get close to you before his hand goes under your chin and he makes you look up at him. It clicks right there and then. Toji didn’t need to learn how to use the program, he just wanted to get you all alone in the office.

“I don’t think this issue can wait till tomorrow.” His voice becomes husky, and you squeeze your thighs out of reflex. You’re not planning on fighting it. He’s been flirtatious with you all morning, and you’ve been thinking of him a million different positions he can put you in… Curse your dirty mind. 

“Does it really? I thought you didn’t even want me after… Well, you know, the incident in the janitor’s closet. You didn’t even try to make a move on me after.” You point out, and Toji laughs. You don’t exactly find what’s funny about this. “What’s funny?”

“Maybe you’re just not available for me. You’re always going out with everyone else, what do you want me to do? Steal you from them? Let them know I want to fuck the shit out of you?” He answers. And maybe he’s right, you have been going out with your other co-workers after work to get a drink, and when it’s not that, he’s out of the office. You really haven’t given him much of a chance to ask you out or let him fuck you after work. 

You won’t admit you’re at fault, therefore you decide to move your hands to the back of his head.

“Just shut up and kiss me.” You tell him, pulling him into a kiss. It’s not worth spending time arguing any longer since you two clearly want to do something that doesn’t involve much talking. While your tongues press against each other, his hands move under your ass to lift you up and put you on his desk.

As he kisses you passionately, his hand goes to your thigh, caressing the soft flesh that your skirt exposes. His hand goes up to your panties, toying with your clothed cunt, working you up. He moves your panties to the side, running his fingers through your already slick folds. He pulls away with a smirk on his face, only to say, “You’re already so wet for me, pretty girl. But I haven’t done anything?”

“Shut up.” You sound embarrassed, and you are. Just the thought of him fucking you is enough to make you go crazy. 

He pushes two fingers into your cunt, his lips landing on yours again. His tongue glides over yours while he curves his fingers, searching for your sweet spot. He knows when he finds it, feeling a moan through your tongue.

His fingers toy with you, while his free hand frees his cock. He pulls his fingers out when his cock is free. He runs the tip through your folds, and he begins to tease you. You hold your breath in anticipation, waiting ever so patiently for Toji to bury himself inside of you.

You breathe in as he pushes himself inside of you. He lets out a breathy moan as your walls wrap around his cock. Fuck, he didn’t think you would feel so tight and warm around him… Oh fuck, this is too fucking good. How did he not fuck you in the janitor’s closet immediately?

His cock slowly stretches you out, and you bite your bottom lip, holding back from being loud. There’s no one around, but you still don’t want to draw any attention to yourself.

Toji starts off slow but quickly picks up speed.  You’re taking him so well, and fuck, do you look beautiful. He’s surprised he hadn’t made a move sooner– But he couldn’t, he had no way of knowing that you liked him. Not until he caught you daydreaming while staring at him.  

“You’re so fucking pretty.” He tells you as his head goes to the crook of your neck. He licks it before biting down lightly. His head remains buried on your neck, where he lets his moans out so they come out muffled. “And your pussy is so fucking tight.”

He’s too lost in pleasure to even have noticed how your hand had gone down and now you’re playing with your clit. He hears your sweet moans in the air, which is truly the best music that has ever graced his ears. Fuck, he could ask you to marry him right then and there just to hear that every morning and night.

“Oh fuck, Toji–” Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. Toji’s hitting just the right spot, and he doesn’t even know it. You’re squeezing around him as your orgasm nears. You had many ideas on how your work day would end, but you truly didn’t expect to be on cloud nine when it ended.

Thank the heavens for Toji. That’s all you can think about when you reach your high, loudly moaning his name which echoes in the empty office building. 

Toji’s breath gets caught up in his chest, his thrusts getting sloppy as his release approaches. He doesn’t want this to end yet– But maybe he could invite you out to dinner and then take you back to his place. The night doesn’t have to end so soon… 

His nails dig into the soft flesh of your thighs as he reaches his release, his hot cum filling you up. Toji remains buried inside of you for a moment, while you both take a moment to regulate your breath. He pulls out and fixes your panties quickly before his cum gets everywhere.

You’re both quiet as you gather your stuff to leave. You wait for each other to go to the elevator, and even when you’re inside the lift, you’re awfully quiet for a pair of people that just had sex. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” You smile at Toji when you get to your floor. He grabs your hand before you can walk away and he proposes,

“Let’s actually grab a drink.”

[bunny-jpeg]

hiii ! how are u? I would like to order a pastry braid and english muffin with a side of tonic water, w max verstappen

thank uu x

bakery menu!!

want to suggest your own order? then hit up the menu! there are tons of things to choose from. i am working through the suggestions after a slight break so i will be posting them more often. updates usually go up fridays to sundays at 6pm est! i hope you enjoy this little fic! this is set in the team principal au (which usually happens with a max age gap fic) but it's not connected to the rest of the tp au that i have going, just it's own little thing! <3

pastry braid: "your job is to make me cum. now get to work." + english muffin: "aw, is someone crying?" + tonic water: age gap served by max verstappen (formula one)

tags: smut/pwp, tp!max, driver!reader, age gap (20s/40s), crying (kink), rough sex, power dynamics, doggy style, max has high expectations for his driver, degrading language, possessive behavior

insatiable. that was what max would describe himself in relation to you. what he was when you were near. he was hungry for trophies, wins and most of all your sweet cunt. max had expected to leave the track years ago, but how could he? he had a re purpose, to make you a champion.

but even wills made of iron couldn't deny your appeal. how you looked in your fire proofs, the look you got when you lost of received a plenty, and the opposite look you gave when you tasted sweet victory. if max was the lion, then you were the wolf.

regardless, max still held power over you and you when he held your cheeks in one hand to face him, a domineering look in his eyes. he held you like he owned you, and with all those zeroes on your contract. he did in a way.

his arms wrapped around you and held you to his chest. in a moment of private after the grand prix, he held you the way a lover would. he couldn't help but take a quick grab of your breasts. you wined in response and max simply smiled.

"not the best," he said in your ear, "i counter five errors in your driving, on top of letting the williams' driver over take you for ten laps. i'm sorry, my price, you know what that means."

you nodded, "yes, sir. i understand." then shifted a little in his touch which only made him hold onto you tighter. you swallowed, even though you won the trophy, tonight wouldn't be about celebrating. it would be about punishment.

max's hotel room was next to yours, and you barely closed the door before he was trying to get your t-shirt off. large hands groped your breasts over your bras and he groaned into your neck.

"fuck, baby." he said, tension in his voice, "you could've been celebrating with the team, but instead you have to deal with the punishments." he pulled your bra over your head and grabbed your chest.

max liked your breasts, he loved how easy the skin bruised when he gave them too much attention. you ended up on the bed with max stripping you of your calvin klein jeans. he saw your exposed thighs, and the tattoo on your hip. lucky number thirty-three. max's old number.

he did have a claim over you, the kind of claim that not even a scandal could break. oh the media circus that would ensue if people found out about you two. if they found out you were fucking max, then max guessed he'd just have to marry you. not a big deal, he had a ring picked out and everything.

"you know what we have to do tonight. your job is to make me cum. now get to work." and soon your panties were pulled off and left on the edge of the bed. he started to strip himself down.

while your face in the pillows and your couldn't see your team principal, you could feel him. the soft of imposing power that left you feeling needy.

"i expect the best from you. you know that. i don't deal with those who aren't willing to push themselves to the best they can be. i know, you can easily be the best. but, i guess there is still a lot i have to teach you." max wasn't like this with any other driver, even if you retired tomorrow, you'd still be his favourite.

he admired your beauty with strokes of his cock. usually there would be a spanking, teasing or maybe a little bondage, but max was still running off the high of racing and he wanted you now. he sank his cock into you like it was his god given right. he was near double your age, but he still fucked you until you were an overstimulated mess.

you whined from the intrusion, you felt sharp pain. max wasn't small by any means. he was rather bulky, the kind of cock that bullied your insides. you felt a shiver of pain as you moaned into the sheets.

"aw, is someone crying?" his words were patronizing as he moved against you quickly. his stamina was still high, he fucked with the force of a bull that often left you feeling bruised inside and out. he had that ability over you. you leave you completely and utterly at his his mercy.

you swallowed, "not crying, sir." and arched your back, but max had you pressed against the bed. his pace only picked up as he rutted up against you.

the thing about max was that he was dominate. and you loved the power he had over you. he easily took you apart and let him make you feel like jelly as he fucked into you.

"you look better on my cock than in a car." he remarked, "better on your knees than the podium." he added as pleasure clouded his head. his thoughts were about how good you felt. how you clenched around him when he hit your g-spot.

you whined and sniffled a little from the ache. you weren't crying. rather whining from the intense feeling. the ache and the pleasure left your nerves feeling tense. you gasped when he hit a particular spot.

max loved when you whined, especially when there were sweet little tears in your ears. his little wolf all teary-eyed because he made you feel too good.

he pace continued and you felt on cloud nine, you sniffles continued and you were left needy for more. it was always more, you always needed more of him. something that max was more than happy to deliver on. how could he deny his driver. even when he thought you did poorly, he still had a soft spot for you.

"mmm, see you're good like this. i could just eat you alive. take you piece by piece. all mind." he chuckled with warmth in his gut, "next time you'll listen to me over the radio and in the garage." he arched your back further and made you feel the zap of pleasure up your spine and in your core.

having your team principal's support meant the world to you, even when you were panting and near crying under him. the pleasure climbed through your body and you felt the surge of want through you.

"please, sir." you arched your back further and your pulse picked up. face buried in the soft pillows while you let your boss fuck you with a heated drive.

he grasped the back of your head and pulled your head further into the pillows and his pace quickened, "you're forgiven. let this not be a lesson you forget." and continued to move against you, fucking you right into the mattress with heavy thrusts of his hips.

he yanked your hair a little and it amde you moan. only he could get away with something like that. yank, bite, slip, no other man could get away with that. but you gave max everything.

the movements continued and you felt amazing. the type of amazing that allowed you to feel to close to orgasm. you tensed up and felt the sweet release as you came. you needed max, you needed him in a way you could never need another.

your boss, your lover, your everything.

his movements left you needy and it wasn't long before you moaned loudly once more around his cock. the pleasure continued to wash through you like heavy waves. and it only made your lover fuck you quicker. max moved against you, near bounced you up and down on his cock. his noises were tense before he slammed every inch into you and finished.

"oh fuck." he groaned.

you gasped and weakly held onto the covers. you couldn't think of anything else besides max. max, max, max, he was the only thought in your head as he slowed to a stop. and then laid on top of you. he rutted his still hard cock into you which made you groan.

"i think there are a few more lessons i could teach you tonight before i really wear you out." those words were said like a promise <3

[oneoftheextras]

lockjaw | j.t four

masterlist | help me fund my top-surgery?

paring: hybrid puppy!jayce talis x f!reader

summary: after a recent breakup you find yourself adopting a hybrid to keep you company, but he's more feral than you can handle

series warnings: 18+, hybrid jayce (ears and tail), slight a/b/o traits (could argue alpha jayce), eventual smut, protective jayce, size difference

words: 4.4k

chapter warnings: blood, violence, and angst (trauma), not a lot for this one but its got nuggets if you can find them

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five |

want a handwritten letter from a character? / join the discord

Droplets of scarlet hit the wet pavement under his hands in trickles. The rain tried it’s best to wash away the blood seeping out of the abrasions on his knuckles but it was failing. 

He lifted his hand to wipe away the metallic-tasing liquid that filled his mouth from the split in his lip, and pushed himself back on his knees. 

“Get up, puppy!” the man who’d hit him shouted the pet name with the intent to cause offence. He spat a ball of saliva at him, clearly meaning for it to land on his person, but his inebriated state affected his aim as well as his decision making skills.

Jayce tilted his head diagonally but kept his eyeline to the floor; lips parted as an attempt to inhale the fresh rain-chilled air and calm his growing frustration. It would’ve been refreshing if not for the lingering flavour of iron.

The man, with his companions in tow, continued their approach, “Are you deaf, mutt?” he kicked up a puddle, splashing his already dirty t-shirt with filth, “What’s the point in those ridiculous ears if they don’t work?”.

Jayce shook his head, letting little beads of water fly from his hair, and got to his feet. He noticed how the three pairs of steps faltered for a moment when he’d fully straightened his spine, before they advanced. 

He didn’t want this. All he was trying to do was find somewhere safe and dry to rest for the night and avoid the storm.

“Freak!” one of the men yelled as he lunged forward, a metal pole moved with him like an extra limb, swinging through the air. 

Jayce leaned backwards to avoid it, and the end of the metal skimmed his cheekbone, but didn’t make contact. He used the man’s momentum to push him into the wall of the alley. His head collided with the brick and he slumped to the ground with a groan.

Hold back, don’t hurt them.

Upon seeing their friend get so easily manoeuvred, the other two charged like angry bulls. One tackled his middle section and the other jumped and grabbed him by the roots of his hair.

“You fucking animal!” the one on his torso cursed as he repeatedly punched him in the stomach, while the other shifted his grip to be on his sensitive ears, pulling them until he was hunched over.

He could’ve fought them off, he was physically stronger, but when he saw the crimson streak running down the man’s face - the one who he’d pushed - he knew he shouldn’t.

Hold back, don’t hurt them!

He closed his eyes and inhaled with every strike, it would be over soon. They dragged him to the ground and pushed his face into the dirty puddle that had stained his clothes, the murky water attaching itself to his skin and hair like a fungus.

“Monster!” they spat as they got their last jabs in and left him on the ground to collect their friend, satisfied that he was no longer moving.

Maybe he was a monster, but what else was he supposed to be?

A loud thud shook you awake, your body was on red alert as you jolted from your bed. The room was steeped in darkness, the illuminating glow of the street light leaking through the crack in your curtains was your only source of light.

Blindly you reached for your phone and clicked the button to light up the screen, the eye that was more awake than the other focused on the time; 4:22am.

You rubbed your face and put your phone back on the side, it was too early to be awake yet, so you started to lay back down with an attempt to go back to sleep. However, before your head could fully touch the pillow you heard footsteps from the living room.

For a moment it startled you, the sensation of living alone still second nature, but you settled once you realised it must have been Jayce.

Adrenaline still flowed through you, so there was no chance that you’d be getting back to sleep any time soon. Throwing your blanket off of your body, you stretched and wandered to the living room.

The small reading lamp gave the room a slight orange tint, not enough to hurt your tired eyes but enough to radiate the room with a soft glow. 

“Hey,” you called out to him gently, your voice cracking from the first use of the day. He stopped his pacing when he heard you, and turned to your direction - his hair was ruffled with strands sticking up in places, even the fur on his ears was unkempt.

You glanced down at the couch where the brown fluffy blanket was scrunched up to one side and the pillows slightly torn, their white polyester innards across the couch and some fallen to the ground.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked cautiously, trying to ignore how deep the gashes in the fabric were.

He averted your gaze and slowly moved towards the window to observe the street below, his jaw was clenched from gritted teeth hiding behind pursed lips, and his amber eyes were hard and unmoving.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that something had rattled him. It was unsurprising considering he was in a strange place with new smells and sounds; a lot of the forums said sleepless nights were common for the first few days.

“Do you want some tea or coffee?” you stretched again with a groan and started toward the kitchen but waited for his response before fully exiting the room. The ear closest to you twitched and you saw him briefly look at you out of the corner of his eye.

His body language shifted to indicate he wanted to follow, but something was holding him back. “Well, I’m going to make a coffee, you’re welcome to join me if you want,” you left the door open and decided not to push him any further.

You got two mugs out of the cupboard and set them down on the counter, rubbing your eyes with your free hand - the glare of the kitchen light stung - when you heard footsteps getting closer to you.

Glancing over your shoulder and towards the doorway, you watched Jayce enter slowly. He was cold and somewhat unreadable but you could see the uncertainty in his eyes, so you pulled out one of the stools from the island and tapped it for him to sit.

“Come, keep me company while I wait for this to boil,” you gestured to the kettle, “And…” you extended the word and held it until you found what you were looking for. “I got you these-” you placed a wooden box in front of him and lifted the lid, “-just choose one and let me know, okay?”.

The box contained different packets of tea, each divided into their own section and labelled, you’d bought it specifically for him. 

“I don’t know if I remembered all the ones you had back at the sa-” you paused to correct yourself, “-the other place, but I got a few that I thought you might like,” you rambled as you filled the coffee machine with a pod and put your mug under the nozzle, pressing the button for it to start.

He inspected the box; picking up a packet, reading it, sniffing the outside and putting it back into the box. After the sixth sniff test you were starting to worry if you’d remembered incorrectly.

He inhaled one light-blue coloured one and scrunched his face up with disgust - he doesn’t like chamomile, okay, noted.

“Did you know that-” he lifted his attention from the box to the back of your head while you watched the coffee pump out into your mug and spoke, “-No one knows where chamomile tea originally came from?”.

You twisted the mug on it’s podium so the hand was on the right and let the brown liquid slowly fill it, “Well,” you interrupted yourself, “That’s technically a lie,” you chuckled.

“The first documented use of it is in Ancient Egypt for religious ceremonies, you know, the whole embalming the body so it’s preserved for when they meet the gods type of deal,”.

At one point when you were speaking you’d turned to lean against the counter, but your eye line was still watching your mug. He didn’t know why, but you knew it was because the coffee machine would sometimes cut out while pouring and you didn’t want chunks of granules in your drink.

He observed the side of your face, watching your jaw move as you continued, “It was the Romans who started to actually drink it, and then unsurprisingly, so did the Greeks-”.

The machine stopped pouring and gently beeped to notify you that it was done, so you lifted the cup from its platform and continued making your drink.

“-And they largely documented it as being medicinal- Oh!” you exclaimed as you remembered another fun fact, “Did you also know that the word chamomile comes from the Greek word ���khamaimēlon’, I’m definitely pronouncing that wrong, but it means ‘earth apple’, isn’t that funny?” you stopped rambling when you turned to him to collect whichever tea sachet he’d picked but realised he was staring at you with a blank expression.

You pulled down the sleeves on your shirt to cover your knuckles when you finally acknowledged his gaze. He noted the gesture and wondered why you did it so much.

“Did you choose one?” you timidly asked, trying to act as if you hadn’t just spewed all your thoughts out at once. Noticing that he had a packet in his hand, pinched between two fingers, you extended your palm to him.

However, instead of giving it to you, he stood from his seated position and ripped open the paper with his teeth, wrapping his hand around the empty mug and placing it in front of him.

“I don’t mind doing it for you,” you stepped closer to him, expecting him to move out of the way so you could take over. As if you were both south poles of a magnet and your proximity repelled him; the closer you got to him the further he leaned away - taking the mug with him, and paper still clenched between his canines.

You recoiled your hand and stepped away, a soft “Okay,” was all you could manage before you returned to your cup and gave him space.

He was more isolated than yesterday. His shoulder muscles tensed when you moved too quickly or closely to him, so perhaps it was best to keep your distance until he approached you.

He trickled the boiling water into the mug and bounced the teabag, submerging it under the water and letting it rise again with delicate precision until he was happy with the colour it had changed to.

“When it’s a more reasonable hour-,” the two of you had made your way back to the living room, “-I can show you around town, what’s nearby and stuff, if you want?” you tucked your legs under yourself as you got comfortable on the couch.

The semi-destoryed pillow puffed out more white innards when you leaned back on it, “We should probably get you some new pillows too, but I don’t know if they do indestructible ones,” you chuckled, trying to make light of the situation.

The whole time you spoke Jayce stood by the large window, staring down at the barren streets below. He held the mug with both hands, the only visible part being the handle hooked over two of his fingers, maybe you should look for some larger cups for him too?

“Or we can stay inside, I’m not working again until Monday, so I’m all yours for two days!”, he glanced at you out of the corner of your eye and you suddenly felt very small again, “Well,” you cleared your throat, “I have chores I need to do, but you get what I mean,”.

A car revved its engine outside and his attention darted back to the intrusive sound, the hairs on his arms standing to attention, leaving goosebumps across his skin. 

The grip he had on the mug was intense, causing his knuckles to start to lose their colour, “Come sit down,” you suggested, trying to hold some authority in your voice but largely failing.

He regarded you again but didn’t move from his post, instead sipping his drink and keeping his eyes on the street.

He reminded you of a sentinel, ever watching and ever on guard duty.

You turned the TV on and quickly muted until you were able to put on some relaxing meditation music which finally made him turn away from the window and towards the TV.

The muscles in his nose scrunched lightly as the wrinkle between his eyebrows deepened, his eyeline switching between you and the TV, “It’s cheesy, I know, but it genuinely does help,”.

There was a moment of stillness, neither of you moved, just the sound of the music filled the air but the atmosphere was anything but calm.

You pointed towards the bag you’d handed to him yesterday which had been placed next to the TV, “Did you take a look inside?”, he shook his head softly and eyed the bag, “Oh! Go get it!” you shuffled with excitement, picking up your coffee cup and cradling it in your hands.

He hesitated but eventually put his cup down atop one of the coasters on the table and retrieved the bag, “Sit, sit, sit!” you tapped the couch next to you like a child about to open presents on Christmas day, but he opted for the armchair adjacent to you.

Maybe you shouldn’t have told him to sit? It slipped out so naturally, but perhaps it came across that you were treating him like an actual dog? You shook your head, trying to ignore your thoughts and instead focus on him.

He put his hand into the bag and slid the first box out, Clue. He turned the box over with confusion and inspected the back, his eyes sliding from side to side - at least that answered a question about whether he could read.

“Have you played Clue before?” you asked. He gently placed the box on the coffee table and shook his head again whilst revealing more board games; Catan, Monopoly, Battleship, and of course, a chess set.

Every box he studied with acute interest, taking in every picture and word on the print like it was the first time he’d seen it. He glanced up to you from the last one, his amber eyes slightly softer and calmer than before, and the corner of his mouth upturned into a subtle smile.

“We can play now if you want?” you placed your coffee to the side and started to clear the table, he shuffled forward to the edge of the armchair cushion and helped you, “You choose, I'm happy to play whatever,” you encouraged him.

He immediately picked up Clue, seeing as it was the one that you'd asked about and seemed the most excited for. When you smiled, he knew he'd picked correctly.

He ran the nail of his pinky along the seam where the lid met the rest of the box, and sliced through the thin plastic wrapping, pulling it off whilst you moved the last few things off of the table. 

Jayce placed the box on the surface and slowly lifted the lid until it popped off, but let you set up the board and shuffle the cards.

You explained how the game worked whilst he picked up each of the small coloured cones and their respective character cards, deciding which one he wanted to play as.

He eventually decided on Colonel Mustard, and chose Professor Plum for you. 

It took him a few rounds to fully understand the mechanics of the game; roll the dice, enter a room and make a guess. He’d write his three words down on a notepad you’d found for him, and the first thing you noticed was how neat his handwriting was.

It was bigger than yours and slightly slanted as if it were in italics, but almost like something you’d expect to find on a fancy sign.

You won the first few games, "Unfair advantage," you'd commented to reassure him, but as you'd expected, he started to pick up your tactics quickly.

“Rope, Library, and Reverent Green?” you recited what he’d written as his next guess and inspected your hand, none of those cards were between your fingers, “I think you’ve got it,” you smiled at him and picked up the envelope in the middle of the board to hand it to him.

He slipped one of his fingers into the sleeve, the paper bending to the outline of his digit and he pulled the three cards out to see if he was right.

He grinned as he turned each of the cards over, revealing one by one.

Reverend Green. He turned the second card over on the board, Rope. He narrowed his eyes at the last card smiling, his canines poking out from under his top lip; as he pinched the card between his middle and index finger to slowly turn it towards you, Library.

He’d won, again. “Damn,” you looked at the spread of cards, the regal yet smug expression on the Reverend's face, sandwiched between the darker tones of the Rope and Library, “Not a bad way to go,” you muttered to yourself with a giggle. 

Your tone wasn’t lost on him. He side eyed you with a raised brow, his expression unreadable but somewhat judgemental. “Sorry, I’m tired,” you said as you fought the rising heat in your cheeks, and rubbed your face with your hand.

The coffee in your cup had long since emptied, as was Jayce’s tea, but he picked up the cards and started to shuffle them again.

You glanced up to the clock on the wall, 6:53am. The two of you had been playing for over two hours, but Jayce didn’t seem the least bit tired.

He organised the cards, reset the pieces and slipped the three winning cards back into the envelope and started to mix the rest together.

His hands moved quickly, like a man who’d spent his whole life shuffling these cards, but your vision was starting to defocus like a faulty camera. Progressively throughout the night you’d slumped further and further into the side of the couch until you were laying down with your arm propping your head up to see the board.

Jayce handed you your pile of cards and rolled the dice, taking his turn first as the winner of almost all of the previous games, but your one eye that remained open couldn’t make out what number he’d rolled.

The last thing you remember was the clicking of his plastic yellow piece tapping gently against the board, signalling every step his character took. He must’ve rolled a five because you heard five taps, or was it four? It was hard to keep count.

When you awoke for the second time that Saturday, although eclipsed by the dark grey curtains that covered the windows, the sun shone brightly alongside the light trickling of rain. 

You stretched your limbs, hearing a few pops and cracks as your joints woke up slower than your brain; and the brown blanket that you’d left at the end of the couch for Jayce slid off of your torso as you sat up.

A groan left your lips as your spine fully extended and the muscles in your arms and legs relaxed from the tension. You peered towards the armchair but found it surprisingly empty, the large figure that had occupied it mere hours prior nowhere to be found. Even the cushion that normally sat there was missing.

With sleepiness still haunting your vision, you stood from the couch and went to pick up the mugs left on the coffee table. The right hand connected with your cup, which was strangely full with luke-warm coffee, and the left hand found nothing.

As if on autopilot, you shuffled towards the kitchen to empty your mug, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand when you almost tripped on a leg.

Luckily, some part of your occipital lobe was awake enough to notice the limb before you stepped on him.

Jayce was sat on the floor and using the side of the couch as a backrest; one leg bent so he could rest his arm on it and the other - the one you’d nearly stumbled over - had fallen carelessly to the ground and extended in front of him. Becoming the perfect hazard for your clumsy feet.

His head was tilted back and sideways against the arm of the couch, and his eyelids closed with his lashes delicately resting against his skin. His chest rising and falling with every inhale and exhale of deep breath. 

He appeared so peaceful when he was like this, a picture of contrast to his agitated 4am demeanour, but you were confused as to why he was on the floor. Was it because you’d accidentally taken the couch?

You tiptoed over his leg, successfully passing him without disturbance and continuing your journey to the kitchen, when there was a knock at the door. 

The sudden unexpected noise made you jump out of your skin; you were surprised that you didn’t spill the contents of the mug onto the light grey carpet. Thankfully, it stayed inside it’s ceramic container. Coffee stains were a pain to get out of the cheap yarn that the landlords had chosen as flooring.

When you opened the front door you were greeted by the friendly face of your neighbour, “Morning!” you whispered to him as an attempt to maintain whatever tranquillity Jayce had found in your apartment.

“Afternoon?” he laughed back, “Wait, what time is it?” you whipped your head around as if it was even possible to see the living room clock from where you were standing. Instead of ticking hands, you were met with piercing golden eyes staring back at you from the ground. The door was in the direct line of his sight. 

It was hard to break away from his gaze as he got to his feet, “It’s almost 1pm,” your neighbour confirmed, bringing your attention back to the man at the door, “Anyway, I was getting my mail and thought I’d grab yours too,” he extended a handful of envelopes to you.

“Oh, that’s kind, thank you!” you took the letters and smiled at him as if he didn’t do this on a weekly basis, “Not a problem, how have you been?” He put his hands in his pockets and made no gesture to indicate that he was leaving any time soon.

You turned your head back inside the apartment at the sound of a creaking floorboard to see that Jayce was walking towards you and the door whilst stretching his arms above his head.

“I, uh-” you stuttered as you stepped closer to the doorframe and pulled the door with you, trying to hide as much of the interior from him as you could.

“-I can’t really talk right now, sorry, I have company,” you tried to give him the hint to leave. After an already rough first night, you didn’t know how Jayce would react to another stranger within his proximity, and you hadn’t exactly cleared Jayce moving in with your landlord.

“Oh?” your neighbour quirked an eyebrow and smiled at you in a suggestive manner. Whilst you wanted to correct him and explain that it wasn’t like that, you could hear the footsteps behind you getting closer.

You chuckled to him and shrugged your shoulders, “Yeah, can’t keep him waiting,” you played into whatever narrative he had running through his head if it meant he would leave. 

He gave you a toothy smirk and looked you up and down, “Well, at least you’ve moved on,” his comment wasn’t supposed to come across as an insult but the implications stabbed you in the gut.

“Thank you for the mail!” you gave him the falsest smile you could muster after being so brutally and bluntly reminded of your loneliness, “We’ll go get brunch soon and you can tell me all about it,” he whispered to you with a wink before you finally managed to shut the door.

You inhaled deeply and leaned against the back of the door, happy to not be forced into a social situation you didn’t want. 

Jayce had stopped his approach when the door had closed, his nose crinkled up in distaste and his eyes boring into the door as if he could still see your neighbour through it. By that reaction alone, you knew you’d made the right call of not introducing them.

“Mail,” you waved the letters in a circular motion and put them on the table by the door. “I’m sorry I slept in so late,” you apologised, despite being the one that woke up first.

“I propose-” you started as you walked into the kitchen, finally completing your mission of emptying your mug and putting it in the sink to be washed up later, “-We go get you some better pillows, and I can show you what’s nearby, and we can get some lunch while we’re out,” you raised your voice slightly so he could still hear you in the other room.

“What do you think?” you popped your head around the doorframe and found him standing in the hallway as he was before. He opened his mouth widely to yawn; even though he covered his mouth with his hand, you could still see the sharp canines that lined his gums.

He rattled his head as if he was trying to shake away any remaining sleepiness in his body, but eventually nodded in answer to your question.

“Great!” you beamed, almost skipping with joy past him and towards the bathroom, “I’m going to have a quick shower, I’ll let you know when I’m done so you can use it, then we’ll head out,” you tapped the door frame as if you were a judge and your hand was the gavel making the final decision.

You had exactly the lunch spot in mind to take him.

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