#forgot to put the graphic lol

[nobleriver]

The Walking Dead: The Ones Who Live | What We (1.04)

I tried everything!

[gluttons]

independent　+ 　selective ;　black - butler　inspired　original　character　mephistopheles . 　SLOW REPLIES , MATURE THEMES & SPORADIC ACTIVITY . villanized 　by 　merlot .

[starkittsy]

sprigatito squad!!!

[wp100]

i find it ironic that grandpa max's voice actor played an alien before playing a non-alien character in a cartoon about aliens

[sukirichi]

WHEN I SEE YOU AGAIN | G. SATORU x READER

You’ve been pretending not to see ghosts your whole life in order to blend in perfectly, but you can’t ignore the cute ghost with a bright smile standing in front of your door.

cw. ghost! gojo. fem! reader. minimal fluff. graphic depictions of murder. angst. hurt no comfort. mentions of grief. mentions of being under the influence (alcohol and drugs.) characters with depression. unedited.

notes. wrote a lil something for gojo since it’s been a while since i wrote any jjk fics and i missed it :( also should i open requests again? i miss writing one shots lol

wc. 7k

You met him on the first night of winter.

Eager to get home after a long and tiring day at work, you blow hot air on your freezing palms to keep them warm before stuffing it deep in your coat pockets. The walk home was less than fifteen minutes, and you’ve always refused to buy a car because you enjoyed the journey and wanted to familiarize yourself more with the city. You previously lived in the outskirts, but after a phone call from the main department telling you you were promoted and had to transfer in the city, you found yourself packing up on the weekend and renting a cheap apartment.

Located in the middle of everything – convenience stores, medical facilities, popular bars, and a quaint looking flower shop with a cute florist – you thought your apartment was perfect. It was a little shabby, you had to admit. The plumbing didn’t work well and electricity got cut off at random times in the night that resulted in a headache because you couldn’t send that damn email, but the landlord offered an extremely cheap rent that you couldn’t refuse. Plus, it was only a few minutes walk from your office and your neighbors were peaceful.

Well, most of them anyway.

Your neighbors consisted of mostly old couples who were so silent and desolate that you often forgot they existed, your eyes widening whenever you saw an unfamiliar old lady walking and asking you how your day was before realizing, Oh, she’s Mrs. Oliver, I completely forgot. Save for the married couple who were always throwing pots and pans at each other because darn Ronald couldn’t put the toilet seat back down, your place was placid. The landlord was ecstatic when you saw her poster and inquired for a unit, muttering something about not getting enough tenants to keep the place going because of ‘a traumatic issue.’

You’d really rather not ask what it was.

Besides, you’ve never been curious enough of what the world has to offer, simply because you see things – or rather fragments of people – that you’d rather not see. Ever since you started seeing ghosts at a young age of four, people avoided you like the plague, calling you a ‘freak’ and whatnot. Your family soon moved away to a much smaller place in the city because they couldn’t handle seeing their child who often talked to ghosts and sat in corners alone while laughing by herself be criticized by others. They didn’t believe you, of course, often calling it a ‘lonely child’s imagination.’ They sent you to multiple therapists who always assured you that they would listen to whatever problems you were having to cause you to be this way.

Unfortunately for them, there wasn’t anything wrong with you. You weren’t lonely at all. You saw a dozen ghosts every day who were always ecstatic at finding out you could see them, and they were more than willing to interact. As a child, you always thought ghosts were more interesting than actual people because they had an unlimited amount of time to converse with you, and they have had so many experiences to share with you. 

When you grew older, however, you started to see yourself in other’s eyes, realization dawning on you that on social norms, you are, indeed, a freak.

Determined to fit in more and also sick of being faced with countless counselors who strongly believed you had a traumatic experience when your whole life has been nothing but bland and plain, you started ignoring them. It wasn’t easy at first, though. These ghosts have always kept you company while everyone gave you the side eye without knowing who you really were, and you admit you felt lonely in the beginning and a little guilty when they were convinced you couldn’t see them anymore.

You participated more in school activities and even joined a photography club in high school (you had to quit a month later because ghosts kept appearing on your photos, and you had to burn them in order not to freak anyone out) and with each baby step you took, you started to fit in more. The proud look your parents had on their faces when you had finally become ‘normal’ and even got an award for being an exemplary student was enough to keep you going on this journey, and you ignored the lonely spirits so hard that you eventually started seeing less and less of them.

Until now.

Standing in front of your door was a young man, his back awkwardly bent and long, beautiful fingers fiddling awkwardly with one another. He stood barefoot yet wore a comfy looking blue university hoodie and grey sweatpants, and his silver hair seemed shiny and healthy enough to  not consider him a homeless man who was lost and simply wandering. Tipping your head to the side, you rack your brain to remember if you had any neighbours like him. 

His head snaps in your direction. 

He is definitely not your neighbour. You would have remembered such a cute looking guy.

He had unnaturally ethereal futures, prominent cheekbones becoming more pronounced when you meet his eyes, and you blink to gain control over your body when you realize you’ve been staring too long than what would be considered acceptable. You don’t even deny you’ve been checking him out, although you do ignore the almost puppy-like way his eyes lit up at the sight of you, causing your heart to jump a little. Just a little. You also liked how his hair complimented perfectly with his pale skin – he seemed like an exact embodiment of winter. 

You walk forward, spinning your keys at the end of your pointer finger. Smiling at him politely, you paused in your tracks. He’d been blocking your door. “Hello, is there something I can help you with?”

No matter how cute he was, you wouldn’t hesitate to break his nose if he was a criminal.

His pretty hands come up to his face to cover his mouth falling open, and you take a step back when he does a little jump and starts laughing. “You can see me?”

“Uhm, yes,” you answer. “You’re blocking my door, so yeah, I can very much see you.”

As if realizing just now he stood in the way of you and your comfortable bed, who was calling out to you by now, he mutters a quick apology under his breath before stepping aside, a goofy grin remaining on his face and his childish behavior makes you scoff in amusement. He was still watching you even after you’ve unlocked your door, and you sigh at him. “Is there any reason you’re still standing outside my apartment, or should I call the police?”

Instead of looking worried like you expected him to, his smile only gets bigger. “Actually, I live here, well… I used to.”

You stare at him blankly with a slack expression on your face, watching as his features turn sheepish. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. Looking down on his bare feet, you mumble a curse under your breath when you realize he’s hovering. 

“Not again,” you say to yourself before placing a palm against your forehead. It’s been years since you last saw a ghost, why did you have to see them now out of all times? A new branch is opening up and your superiors have given you the project of making sure the launch goes well, and you didn’t really want a ghost bothering you with your biggest task of all time. You worked hard for this promotion, you didn’t want to take one step forward and two steps back. Glaring at the undeniably attractive ghost who still hovered in your doorway, you decided he wasn’t your problem. 

“Well, goodnight.”

You slam the door on him and trudge towards your bedroom, ignoring his “Wait!” as you unwrap the red scarf around your neck and plop on your bed almost lazily, moaning when your stiff muscles finally relax. The bed was so soft and warm because you’d left the heater on accidentally, and you’re about to be sent to dreamland when a voice beside you speaks up.

“You should take off your makeup before going to bed.”

Opening your eyes and coming face-to-face with the ghost who was resting his chin in both of his hands and laying on your bed, you grab a pillow and throw it at him, and he grins when the object goes past him completely. “Get out of my house, stop bothering me!”

“Technically, darling, this is still my house,” he tells you and starts sitting up before crossing his legs. “The unit was still named after me before you came.”

“Then why wasn’t I informed about that?”

“I was murdered here four years ago,” he deadpans, soft voice flitting into a murmur as he plays with his fingers again, refusing to look at you. “That’s why I never left. Judging from what you said earlier, you can see ghosts, and you know exactly why we’re still here.”

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you stumble over your words. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know and–”

“It’s quite alright,” he shrugs. 

Silence soon joins the two of you; the ghost playing with the ends of your blanket with a far-off look in his face while you study his features, and something tugs at your heart. The reason why ghosts remain here instead of passing on like they were supposed to was because it meant someone was still holding on to them and absolutely refused to let go, or if they had unfinished business that needed to be resolved before they could go in peace. You’ve met ghosts like him who were murdered, and all of them remained with a seething rage and insatiable need for revenge, unable to accept that there wasn’t much they could do in their state. 

As for the one sitting in your ghost, a small smile tugs at the end of his pink lips as he takes in your bedroom, amusement dancing in his eyes at the amount of stuffed animals you had and some framed photos of you as a child. 

“You decorate much better than me, and you’re a lot more organized, too. This place was such a mess back when I was still alive.”

There was an unmissable hint of sadness behind his voice, and you can’t help but ask his name. “I’m Satoru,” he grins, “and for the record, I’ve always been here, just floating through time and space, but not the afterworld yet. For some reason, ever since you arrived, I just appeared back where I left off.”

You nod and take in his words, noticing how he clears his throat and sends a sheepish look your way. “If it’s not too much of a bother, can I ask for your help?”

“What is it?”

He stands up and heads toward your desk, although you supposed it was his since the furniture had already been here before you came. You didn’t think too much about it back then and only felt grateful that you had one less piece of furniture to buy, especially since it was empty. Apparently not, because Satoru keeps digging around through your files with his tongue peeking out his lips, and you vaguely recall that ghosts are able to touch things after feeding off of energy from living beings.

Letting out an ‘aha!’ when his hand finally lands on what he’s looking for, he tenderly places a photo on your outstretched palm with a shy smile. Inside the photo was a beautiful man, probably in his mid twenties, his hair up in a messy bun as he grinned at the camera. Beside him, Satoru’s eyes are closed with his head thrown back in laughter, relishing the feeling of that warm sunny day, and you unconsciously frown at it.

“His name’s Suguru,” he began, his eyes turning glossy at the sight of the polaroid. “He was my best friend before I died.”

Pursing your lips and feeling the tension thicken the room, you ask him, “Why are you telling me this?”

“He’s the reason why I can’t go,” he admits, shoulders dropping while his eyes remain trained on her. “He blames himself for everything and refuses to accept that I’m gone, that’s why I’m still here.”

You remain silent and take a deep breath, your head pounding at the situation. It was a beautiful first night of winter, the perfect weather for you to do your work from home while nestling a cup of hot cocoa in your hands, yet it seems your plans changed and you have to help this ghost out. A part of you wants to reach out and embrace him in a hug, but you know you’ll only end up stumbling on your own feet and clearly, Satoru wants to move on to the next chapter of his journey.

“Can you please tell him I’m okay now?”

When he looks at you like that, shoulders hanging low and an almost shy smile decorating his innocent features, it’s hard to say no.

“I will.”

Through the past few weeks since you’ve met Satoru, your life seemed to light up like a Christmas tree without you noticing. He was a funny guy and often pulled pranks on you, like slamming the cabinets open and closed or leaving your window open in the middle of the night, laughing when you shout at him as your teeth chatter and you slam your windows shut. 

“I could have died from the cold, you idiot!”

He keeps laughing as if he didn’t nearly kill you with hypothermia, “Well, if you die, I guess we’ll be together then,” and even has the audacity to wiggle his eyebrows. You scowl at him and pull your jacket closer to your body, asking what he wants from you because he never goes this far to demand for your attention unless he wants something from you.

“What do you want this time?”

“I wanted to finish that series we were watching the other day,” he pouts rather childishly, “You always tell me not to watch it without you.”

On a particular weekend where you felt like your brains were about to explode from exhaustion due to your work piling up, you refused to wake up until noon, and you felt thankful Satoru knew how tired you were and let you have your much needed rest. When you woke up, a bowl of cereal was already waiting for you in your kitchen island, meaning the reason you felt tired even after that long slumber was because he fed off your energy to give you food.

Feeling thankful for the simple, sweet action, you munched on it happily. It wasn’t anything special and the corn flakes had gone too crusty for your liking, but Satoru’s happiness at you appreciating what he prepared was worth it. After breakfast, you dumped the bowl into the sink and planned to wash it later, opting to flick through Netflix for a good show. Satoru had excitedly pointed at one title that he said he’s always wanted to watch, and the two of you became hooked on it soon enough. Lunch and dinner were both forgotten as you two sat beside each other, your leg against his. Although you couldn’t exactly feel him, his presence was warm.

You and Satoru had been so immersed in the show and unexpected turn of events that time flew by and it was already half past three. He was the first to notice and he jumped from his seat, his hands waving worriedly in a comical manner. “I’m so sorry I made you skip your meals! Aren’t you hungry, you should have some pizza delivered or something.”

Glancing at the clock, you hummed when you realized it was indeed late. You weren’t feeling hungry since you were mostly abeyant, and nothing was open to deliver food around this time anyway. “It’s okay,” you shrug, “I’m not really hungry, and that show is addicting. Oh, and don’t watch it without me! I know you always go ahead when I’m not home!”

Satoru huffs and plops down next to you dramatically, rolling his eyes and taunting you. “Then don’t go to work, Little Miss Manager.”

You poke your finger with his forehead but it only passes through and he laughs, “I need money to survive, idiot.”

“Whatever,” he dismisses and points to your bedroom. “You’ve still got to edit your final draft, so you have to wake up early. Go to bed, don’t worry about the dish, I’ll handle it.”

“Liar, you’ll only feed from my energy so you can play video games!”

“Hey, you can’t blame me!” He counters back as he proceeds to your sink and pumps out soap to the sponge, “You were the one who bought me that console!”

“Only because you kept whining to me how much you wanted it,” you retorted before yawning, and his eyes softened at the sight of you. He rarely gets to see you dressed so comfortably in a loose shirt, cardigan and pajama pants since you were such a busy woman whose fashion sense monotonously consisted of pearl white button-up blouses and knee-length pencil skirts. Prudish and preppy, he thought, but it suits you just fine.  

“You should sleep now,” he reminds you with a nod of his head back to your bedroom, and you obey, simply because your eyes were sore and tired from binge watching. You’re in the process of cocooning yourself under the covers when he calls out in a sing-song voice, “Thank you for the console, by the way. I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

“Shut up!” You scream, and his rambunctious laugh was the last thing you heard before your body wholeheartedly welcomed sleep. 

You’ve been thinking about that day ever since, the moment replaying over and over again in your head, successfully distracting you from focusing on your work. Even your co-workers have noticed that you’re lusterlacking lately, but how could you focus on anything else when you had a charming yet lonely ghost who was waiting for you at home?

For days on end, you can only think about the cheerful and carefree sound of his laugh as if he had so much happiness in his lithe body that he couldn’t contain. Your heart always got tugged in its heartstrings whenever you had trouble falling asleep and he sat beside you in your bed, singing you lullabies and caressing your cheek. You started to feel him now – the gush of air in your skin meant he was pressing onto you, and the more you got attached to him, the more you got confused with your feelings.

He never told you how he was murdered and you never asked, figuring it would be too sensitive for him, and your hands balled into fists each time you remembered he was dead. Satoru is such a precious person who only has too much love to give, and it was completely unfair and outrageous that his life was taken away from him in a single flash. You’ve done your research at work, and only a few articles came up regarding his death. The case remains a mystery and still unsolved until it was completely closed due to lack of leads or suspects, but the police force highly suspected someone had broken in and committed homicide without theft, since not a single belonging of him got touched. They concluded that the murderer was drunk and lost, because he was a well-loved person in their campus, and they couldn’t find anyone who could possibly harbor abhorrence for the sweet boy.

But most of all, a part of you wants him to stay. He frequently asks you if you’ve talked to Suguru, and you always denied it, making up an excuse about how he was hard to find because he graduated years ago. ‘He’s hard to find,’ you would tell him one day, and ‘He doesn’t have social media,’ the next. Even though he told you he majored in Forensics, you couldn’t find anyone in the city. 

It’s a half lie. You never found Suguru, because you never looked for him in the first place.

You know it’s selfish of you to be this way, because you know Satoru wants to move on. He doesn’t say anything about it and keeps laughing instead, but sometimes when he thinks you’re too immersed in your work to notice him, you look at him. Being around you only reminds him of what he no longer has, and one look at him has you knowing he was someone who loved life. Satoru loved to travel with his friends, and he still had so many dreams left unfulfilled that made him feel empty yet desperate to be in the afterworld.

However, it is hard for you to let him go. 

No matter how much you try to fit in, deep inside, you know you will always be too different from the rest. You still struggled with socializing and didn’t have a single friend yet a hundred acquaintances, and you never realized how lonely you were until he came. His smile lit up the whole room and his laugh was melodious, and you don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who cared so much for you. He liked to play games and pull pranks on you quite often, but underneath all that lies a kind heart.

Satoru knows exactly when his jokes go too far and apologizes right away, promising not to do something to upset you again and always doing something entirely new to cheer you up. On nights where you’re feeling absolutely drained or you carried home your anger at your co-workers, you go to sleep without taking off your makeup. When you wake, there’s used wipes in the bin, the hovering boy in your apartment proud of his work. Sometimes you forget to cover yourself in blankets too, plopping on top of the sheets almost lifelessly. It’s in those times that he shows how much he cares for you, and you soon wake up feeling warm surrounded by heavy blankets and freshly cooked breakfast.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were falling for him. It made interacting with him difficult, because you knew you had to let him go, yet you couldn’t.

He watches you carefully and gauges your reaction, waiting to see if you’ll finish the series with him or not. It’s a Wednesday night, or more accurately an early morning on Thursday and the launch happens in less than a week. Logically, it is much better to go back to sleep and refuse, but he is rocking his weight on his heels back and forth, and you realize perhaps he has been lonely since his death too.

“Fine,” you agree, and now he’s bouncing excitedly next to you on your couch as he keeps pressing buttons in your remote.

“You’re the best, you know that?” 

You only hum in response, and Satoru soon becomes lost in the show. Your eyes aren’t focused on the screen – on him rather. Placed on top of your fist lies your cheek as you study his side profile, trying to memorize the slope of his nose and the snow-white hair that keeps falling onto his eyes that makes him flip it to the side every now and then to watch the show. His right leg keeps bouncing up and down, a habit he had when he was anxiously anticipating something, and then stopping before his left leg went bouncing instead, meaning he didn’t like the situation.

Tearing your eyes away from him, you smile sadly when you realize his favorite character had been betrayed. “Did you see that? That freaking woman, he only loved her and she snitched him out like that?!”

Shrugging one shoulder and feeling your eyes become droopy, you reply, “Well, he’s a grave robber, Satoru, he was only nice to her because he liked her. She had every right to mislead him.”

“I don’t understand, but okay,” he relents and leans back, eyes closing before he intertwines his hands behind his neck and murmurs, “I hated the ending.”

“Not everyone gets happy endings,” you add grimly, watching the muscles underneath his hoodie flex at your comment. The two of you remain silent for a few minutes, and plucking up the courage, you breathe in sharply before slowly lowering yourself until your head is on his shoulder. 

You keep yourself still in order not to fall, and your eyes remain fixated on his hand, silently yearning to be able to touch him. If he was alive, would his skin be as warm as his presence? His hand flexes and trails from his lap until it’s beside yours, and you hear him swallow audibly before locking your fingers with his.

A tear falls down your face. You could feel him. 

Satoru hums a familiar tune, and you chuckle happily when you recognize it’s the song he always sings to you to make you sleep, his fingers rubbing soothing circles on your knuckles.

His other hand tilts your chin upwards until you’re looking directly at his eyes. You hold in your breath, his lips only a centimeter away from yours. If you lean forward, you could kiss him… but you don’t. 

“Why are you crying?”

Because I don’t want you to go.

“Nothing,” you lie and offer a forced smile which he notices, but doesn’t comment about it. “I just feel happy.”

He nods slowly before leaning forward, and he gets so close that you can faintly see his freckles that dot across his cheeks lovingly, and your eyes flutter shut when his lips press against yours. Satoru sighs as if he’s been waiting too long to do that, and he is pushing against you so softly, so tenderly, that it almost fits the same atmosphere your heart creates. He is soft in everything he does, from his innocent features and smile that puts the stars to shame, to how he holds you and caresses you. His hand trails from your neck to pull you closer, and you moan when his tongue peeks out and playfully coaxes yours out to play. Tears are streaming down your face when you kiss him back slowly, tongues moving in sync as they danced harmoniously instead of battling each other for dominance. Caressing your face that fits perfectly in his hand, he brushes away your tears with the pad of his thumbs. 

A moment passes before you two are breathing heavily with your foreheads pressed against each other, and the silence is broken when he speaks, his voice coming out raspy and out of breath. 

“Suguru… has been struggling long before I died.”

“What?”

“My best friend… he got into a rough patch. Had troubles with his parents, went down the wrong path, and met dangerous people. I’d heard rumors he was going around skipping class and talking to people I’ve never seen before, but I chose to ignore it. Suguru would’ve told me everything once he was ready. And I was stupid, you know? I saw it. I saw how he stopped smiling, how he’d lost weight. How his eyes no longer looked happy,” Satoru’s hands trembled, the blue of his eyes hauntingly dark. “One night, I overheard him talking to someone on the phone. I’ve never heard him that angry, and I got worried. I wanted to stop him from whatever he’ll end up doing so I invited him over but… Next thing I know, he came over here, drunk and high, and stabbed me until I bled to death.”

You gasp and shudder as you imagine the scene, Satoru lying on his bed as he waited anxiously for his friend. You see him smiling at Suguru excitedly because he’d actually come, but fear replaces it when his friend succumbs to the madness. The image of Satoru drowning in his own pool of blood made you clench your jaw.

“There had to be evidence left.”

Satoru smiles sadly as if to tell you it doesn’t bother him anymore, but you can’t shake it off. How can a man be so blinded in his own misery that he could take his own best friend’s life? “He was a forensics major; he knew how to cover up his crime.”

A pregnant pause fills the room as you furrow your brows, the sound of the cold wind tapping against your windows as you rack your head to make a decision. Now that you knew the truth, you had to tell the police about it, but how would they believe you if there was no evidence found? And if the case was cleared, and Suguru had finally moved on, that means...

“You can ask me to stay.”

“What?” You breathe out, looking at his eyes with sadness pooling in them. He’s smiling, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You pull away from him completely until he’s at an arm’s length away. He doesn’t look hurt by your action but he sighs, reaching out for you and pausing with his hand mid-air when you raise a palm to stop him.

He must’ve known you’re in love with him. Just as he also knows that once he leaves, you’ll be hurt, and he doesn’t want you to feel that.

You shake your head and stand up harshly. The tears now uncontrollable as you slam your bedroom door to his face. You’re slightly thankful he doesn’t come after you and leaves you alone instead. You needed time. Time to think, time to put his needs over yours - time to forget him. Rummaging through the documents on your desk, you keep looking for it until the polaroid is clutched between your fingers, and you silently place it in your handbag.

Tomorrow, you would set things straight.

Suguru Geto was a hard man to find. He’d fled from the spotlight as one of the  best students of his university after Satoru Gojo’s death. The image of his best friend, who was always in high spirits and laughed without a care in the world, covered in his own blood was a sight that scarred him for the rest of her life. 

But there was one more person who hadn’t moved on from that night.

Ieri Shoko, the woman who ran first at the hospital when Satoru’s parents were away for a business trip. She didn’t want to believe it at first. Satoru had always seemed so full of life, so in love with what the world had to offer. He’d been so young – it just couldn’t be. They had to be lying, right?

But when she finally saw her friend’s bloodied corpse on that cold hospital bed, she’d fallen apart.

She went to sleep crying to herself every night, regretting and blaming everything on herself. Her instinct told her it was Suguru who had done this to him. She barged into his dorm room, screaming and flailing, punching the taller man and effectively breaking his nose as she dragged him down by the collar. Suguru was already questioned by the police after Satoru’s murder, but his alibi of being in a bar was factual, and they had proven his innocence after checking surveillance cameras. He was only gone for a few minutes before he appeared on the dance floor all over again, and they believed him when he said he only disappeared to go to the restroom.

Presumably to wash the blood off his hands.

Shoko didn’t believe it. “Tell me you didn’t kill him, tell me!”

Suguru growls, frustrated at her for even accusing him of doing such a horrendous thing, and he feigns his innocence as he pries her hands away from his collar. “I didn’t do it, Ieri, I was at a bar!”

“Bullshit!” She screams, slamming a vase onto the floor and dropping down to the floor as sobs wrecked through her body. “I smelled your perfume the moment I walked in. I know it was you…”

His eyes widened, but he remained silent because she had always been smart and too observant for her own good. He shrugs his collar back into place and goes back to his bedroom, but not before darkly muttering, “I didn’t do it, I didn’t kill him…”

Four years later, and you’re sitting in front of Officer Kento, an intimidating man with empty eyes staring at you hardly, his face devoid of any emotion. He’d been the same officer who worked on Satoru’s case before it was closed. “And why should I believe you? Ghosts don’t exist.”

You snap your head up from your lap to him and scowl, “I just want to help you here, Officer.  You need to re-open this case.”

He abruptly stands up and slams his palm harshly against the desk, his eyes filled with rage as he stares down at you. “You don’t think I haven’t tried before?!”

“Well then, try harder!” You fumed, standing up. “If you don’t resolve this case, he’s going to remain here forever, lost and nowhere to go. Do you really want him to suffer even after his death?”

“How am I supposed to believe everything you say is true?”

Plucking out their polaroid from your bag and shoving it to his chest, you watch as he crumbles piece by piece. He holds the photo tentatively before cradling it to his chest, and what you presumed was a cold-hearted man was actually just a lost person.

“I don’t know why you closed that case, but it isn’t over. He’s still here, and he needs our help.”

You turn away from him to give him peace and wrap your fingers around the doorknob, “Suguru Geto is out there walking freely. You can still make a difference, Sir. It’s not too late.”

Happiness was a concept you believed to be fleeting.

One moment, you are giggling with the ghosts who tell you funny stories and whisper mischievously in your ear the correct answers in your pre-school days, and the next moment you are pressing a hand against your car windows, watching as the only people you considered friends are witnessing you leave without a goodbye.

That feeling comes back again and again, from little moments such as eating lunch with your high school friends and making empty promises to keep in touch after graduation, giggling when a cute boy comes by and asks for your number. But like any other moment in your life where you feel happy, that feeling dissipates as fast as it came.

The bell attached to the door chimes to signal a customer, and the cute florist you met on the first day you moved to this city, Choso, looks up from the pot he’s currently watering. Bowing politely, he sends a pleased smile upon the sight of you.

You tuck a stray hair behind your ear and return the smile back, his musky perfume blending in well with the sweet aroma of flowers as he stops in front of you. “Hi, I haven’t seen you in a long time.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize sheepishly, “Our latest branch just opened downtown, so I was a bit busy with that.”

“Oh, you work for that bookshop everyone’s been talking about non-stop?” You nod and laugh at his question, proud of yourself that the new opening had been successful. The state campus was only three bus rides away, and with the extensive amount of books your bookstore offered, along with its affordable prices, everyone’s been talking about it. “I’m proud of you, it was a success,” he commends, rubbing his dirties hands on his apron before opening the door for you. What can I get you?”

Personally, you thought Choso was a bit too rugged to be working in a floral shop. He always seemed to carry himself in such an awkward manner and had an authoritative yet welcoming aura to him, his shy smiles the highlights of your day. “I want to give it to my friend. Today’s their special day.”

“I see,” Choso’s eyes are already scanning the plethora of flowers he has in his shop, his brows pinching together in thought. “Can you tell me a little bit about them? It’d help to make their bouquet more personal.”

A smile makes its way to your face. “They’re… bright, carefree, innocent, and pure. They almost seem like an angel, if you ask me. I was also thinking about something that represents young love, and… new beginnings?”

You have absolutely no idea what you’re saying. The words coming out of your mouth are beyond your control. You’re sure you’re making a fool out of yourself, but Choso nods understandingly, frows burrowed before he snaps his fingers and turns to you. “White roses describe all of those, but if you want, I can whip up more flowers for you.”

He makes a move to get his scissors and starts listing off flowers with the same meanings, but you run up to him and not so accidentally wrap your hands around his to get him to stop. His eyes widen at your close proximity. You clear your throat and take a step backward, fighting the urge to smile when his cheeks are dusted a fine pink. “White roses itself are fine, thank you.”

He gulps and heads towards the back door, coming out later with a bouquet of white roses. You reach for your wallet before his arm wraps around your wris, his smile wobbly and hesitant. “It’s on the house. You can pay me back with a cup of coffee next time.”

Eyebrows rising at his smoothness, you gratefully accept the flowers and cradle it near to your chest. “A cup of coffee it is.”

Choso chuckles shyly and ducks his head, and you leave the shop with a wave of your hand before walking further and further. Your surroundings shift from the high-rise building and busy streets to a hill covered in trees sprawled out everywhere, flowers blooming and withering at every corner. Sitting down on the soil with your legs crossed, you place the bouquet in front of his headstone, his framed polaroid with Suguru standing in front of you. 

It’s been exactly seven days since you last saw Satoru.

After countless sleepless nights of phone calls from Officer Kento, he’d finally cracked the case with your help. Suguru Geto was found. He’d confessed to all his crimes, his handsome face weary yet relieved. It seemed he’d never once forgotten about that night when he betrayed his friend, and just before he was ushered behind bars, he turned to you. You wished you felt anger towards him for what he did, but there was only sadness. Only regret in his eyes. He looked so tired, so hopeless.

“Thank you,” he said softly, “Thank you for finding me.”

A nod was all you could give. Suguru felt so familiar, yet so strange. You’ve heard tons of stories about him from Satoru, all about their happiest moments together. He’d been his closest friend, the one he shared so many dreams with, and the one who knew him the most. Maybe he knew Satoru wouldn’t fight back once his demons consumed him. Maybe when Suguru was holding his friend’s bloodied hand in the night, he knew – Satoru was never mad at him. He only wanted to save his friend. Maybe he knew Satoru wasn’t completely dead yet, not when he lived in everyone’s heart, and most especially yours.

That night when you returned home, the apartment felt colder than ever. Normally, it would mean a ghost lingered. But there was no longer the sound of Satoru’s humming, and the dishes were left half-washed in your sink. And for the first time in your life, you hated your eyes and how it gave you the ability to see the traces he left behind. 

Because you wished you had enough time to say goodbye. You wish you had told him everything, but the thought of being another tether to the living realm weighed down on you. You couldn’t do that to him. He had to go. For Satoru to truly move into the next life, you had to close your heart and forget him. Just as Suguru’s forgiven himself, and just as Shoko’s accepted her friend’s death - you too had to say goodbye. 

Tears clouded your vision.

The white remnants of his soul sparkled in your apartment. For the last time, you watched as the blue of his hoodie finally disappeared, his hands scrubbing your dishes away fading into nothingness. The plate drops and breaks. Satoru stood, his legs vanishing bit by bit as he saw the running water through his hands. He’d wanted to return your apartment to the way it was before he’d met you, but he knew – his time was running out. He didn’t have energy left to turn everything off.

The water floods your apartment. The new series he’d dearly loved still plays on the TV. 

But he was here – hugged by the earth and decorated with flowers, smiling at you from far away even when you could no longer see him. Placing the bouquet of white roses down at his grave, you smiled at the photo they’d taken months before he died. He still looked just as beautiful – all wide smiles, kind eyes, and soft hands.

To you, he was still alive in your heart.

“I’ll see you around, Satoru.”

[drgnflyteabox]

the lusty cabin-dweller

pairing: ghost / Simon riley x fem reader summary: your life gets wider when you find an injured man outside of your cabin. tags/warnings: Skyrim!ghost, secrets, graphic injuries, some angst, facial injuries, nursing Simon back to health one stew at a time <3, listen to this for the vibes, vaginal + anal sex, oral (f), animal attacks, blood, processing an animal for meat and fur, violence, death (non-major), mention of Skyrim racism, softdom!Simon, some backstory, please hmu if i forgot anything, one bed trope, simon backstory adapted to skyrim lol (so past abuse, murder, theft, domstic violence) but nothing graphic w.c: 5k

Honey-nut is squealing again. Some days you think she might not be worth the milk and cheese she gives you for all the trouble she causes. A high, strange bleating cuts through the chilled night air like a knife, sharp and terrifying only for a moment.

She's been at this since Frostfall. Maybe it was the weather causing Honey-nut distress - she was getting old, after all. For a goat.

In the time it takes you to trudge out of bed, pull on a wool shift and a fur, two things happen: one, Honey-nut stops bleating, and the woods surrounding your cottage becomes deathly silent.

Two, a crunch.

Just one, but it's enough. Someone is outside.

For a brief, hysterical moment, you worry for Honey-nuts safety. Have they hurt her to be quiet? No, you'd have heard that at least. Your breath comes fast, chest squeezing. Bandits? Probably not. It's a decent hike up to your wooden cottage. But it is nearing winter, and soon it will be Sun's Dusk. It's not unheard of that they'd be looking for a place to take over for the colder months.

Your hand goes to your heart, fingertips touching your throat. Be calm, you tell yourself. You aren't helpless, look. The axe, leaning by your front door. You can see in the dark well enough, and you're more familiar with your homestead than they are.

The axe feels right in your hands. Too-familiar, weighty, deadly. You touch your ear to the door, trying to reign in your fear. Nothing. Then, a wheeze, strangled and restrained like whoever it is can't afford to be heard. But you have heard it, and you push the door open.

"Show yourself!" You shout, voice surer than you feel. Your knees quake a little, but your grip on the axe is strong.

The animal pen is a mere few steps away from your front door. Past the front garden, it's wide open aside from the little shelter you built the past Mid Year. A foot sticks out, clad in armor.

"I'm armed," you add. "You're not getting anything from me!" The world is dark, the woods quiet. Adrenaline burns in you, bright enough to guide your steps.

"You gonna kill me with that, girl?"

Gruff voice, like scraping rocks. Coming into view, you see that this man poses no threat. He's half dead, slumped and pale, clutching his side.

"Who are you? What's your business here?" The axe is a deterrent, now. Just for show. You hold it above him, but nearly drop it when you see his face. It's sliced right through the middle, from his forehead to his jaw. "Oh, gods-"

"Mind yourself with that," his eyes flit to the axe. "Or put me out of my misery now."

Your shoulders dip down, lowering your weapon. Guilt crawls into your belly and settles there when you notice that yes- his feet are armored, but the rest of him is dressed in miners attire. White, coal-dusted shirt. Workman's pants, tucked into woolen calf wraps. God, he must be freezing. Maybe that's saved his life, staunched the bloodflow. It's tacky on him, not shining wet like you expected.

"What's happened to you?" You cringe at the sound of your voice. It's gone from fierce defensiveness to cloying concern, staring only at the blood staining his skin.

He breathes hard, staring at you a moment. It's hard to tell what he's thinking, what he's feeling. Outside of obvious pain. Leaves around you shiver in the breeze, a light snow beginning to fall when he finally speaks.

"Bandits," he grunts. "An ambush." Every word is a fight, a wheeze. Empathy drives away caution and you drop your weapon in favour of kneeling beside him.

"Come on, then. Let me help you," lifting him is a monumental task, even with him helping. He's as big as horse, thick as one too. Legs like tree trucks that hold him up just barely, feet sliding weakly on the uneven ground.

Looking back, Honey-nut watches you bring him through the doorway with a judgmental twinkle in her eye. Maybe it's time for goatherd pie.

///

Your bed is too small. His feet hang off comically, and the wood creaks under his weight. It'll have to do. Your mother would have beaten you black and blue for this - for inviting a stranger in, for settling him in your bed without so much as a what’s your name? But you know how to stitch and turning away someone in as bad a shape as he is would weigh on your conscience.

You light the sconces along the wall, and then a lantern to keep by his bedside. Warm, orange light fills the cottage, flickering every so often, inspiring calm.

"I'm no healer," you warn him. "Nor an alchemist." It’s not necessarily a lie. You had done a brief stint as a volunteer for the temple of Kynareth, lending your hands and your time to help nurse wounded soldiers. There had been supervision then, though. Guidance.

"I’m shit out of luck for choices, sweetheart,” his facial wound leaks a little when he speaks, blood running down the side of his face in thin rivulets. The wound at his side, however, is what worries you the most.

“Let me,” you murmur. Your fingers find the edge of his shirt, pulling them out of his pants, and up, up, gently. Looking him in the eye, watching his pain win over his weariness.

Another gash, swaddled in cloth wrapped sloppily around his middle. Without moving him you have to cut them off, slicing off his shirt at the same time. This one bleeds sluggishly, skin shredded, like he’d been dragged over coarse rock.

He words slur, energy leaving him. Mumbles under his breath things you can’t make out, and don’t try to. You’re busy rinsing, cleaning, and patting his ribs dry. Tensing every so often, he breathes hard through his nose to offset the pain. Mumbles some more, hands making fists.

It’s bad, but he’ll live. Exhaustion might trump over all, anyhow, what with how his eyelids have begun closing. Through the slit of them his eyes are pale, like sunlight through deep blue ice. Blonde lashes, stark against the dirt and coal smearing his skin.

You work in silence, letting him sleep through this one so he’ll hopefully be unconscious for the work you have yet to do on his face.

“Who did this?” You whisper to no one. You’re a breeze in the night, alone, hunched over this man and wiping his face with a cloth.

Clear of blood and grime, you gather a sewing needle and dip it into the lantern flame. Stitching is easy, but on his face? You falter a moment, worried, until you think of how proud men often are of their scars. Boasting battles won and creatures slain.

It’s that thought that pushes you through to the end, weaving the needle through until he's sewn and clean of blood.

///

Sweat and iron. The smell of it, sharp and salty, sea foam and earth, is the first thing you're aware of.

Then, the light of morning. Pale, almost white, invading through the windows in rays. A chill. Your eyes open with a not insignificant amount of effort, back twinging in different places as you become aware of the world again.

"Awake?" You startle, jerking up. It's the man from the night before, laying as he was, a little curled against the pain and big as an ox. "W's startin' t'think you'd sleep all day."

"It's morning, is it not?" You're not used to talking this early - or at all. "How's the- how are you feeling?"

He grunts, shuffling. His wrapped side has some blood peeking through, little spots of leakage, not enough to lose your head over. His face has swelled some overnight though, and you're awake enough now to hear the muffled quality to his voice. Part of the cut pulls his upper lip tightly. You wince.

"Just wait. I have something for the," you pause, crossing your space on stiff legs to find the bookshelf. Clay pots, glass bottles, books. Ah, here it is. "For the pain." It's some elixir. Purchased the last time you'd made the trek to Markarth from Muiri, the alchemists apprentice. It brings forth a distant memory of pain, of twisting your ankle running after Honey-nut.

Your ankle hadn't quite healed right, but this was good for when winter came and stiffness made the pain worse again.

He eyes you wearily as you approach. Suspiciously. As if you haven't been helping him out of the kindness of your heart…

"This will help," a promise.

"Don't need'it." He slurs, then cringes as it pulls his lip again.

"You'll recover faster if you're in less pain."

In the end he acquiesces, if not just to take the edge of the purpling that's beginning to show on the edges of his bandage. Broken ribs, maybe?

///

Chores need to be done whether or not there's an obstinate patient in your bed. Honey-nut needs to be milked, and she fights you every step of the way. You discover her pen open from last night and sigh with relief that she's still there.

The chickens have laid eggs for you, and you collect them diligently in your apron. Then, the garden. And finally a sweep of your traps in the woods.

Just one rabbit, but it's enough. You hope the man likes stew, and that his swelling goes down enough for him to tell you his name.

///

He tells you his name is Ghost. Strange, but you've heard stranger. Maybe he's a follower of Namira, you wonder not without an inkling of apprehension. Ghost is quiet, even as he heals. After you'd made yourself a straw bed on the other side of the cabin, you'd wake to him sitting up and stretching. Testing himself. Always silent.

The exhaustion was the worst of it. One nearly empty bottle of elixir later, the swelling on his face has gone down significantly. His ribs sore but on the mend. It was sleep that he needed, and lots of it.

Days passed like this. Switching bandages, wiping and cleaning, cooking enough stew for two. Nearly a week until he was up and about insisting to help around the cottage.

"No need," you tried to gently push him back into the warmth of the open door. He was too big, and having none of it. "You'll be better in no time."

He was just so tall. Were he to stand still at your doorway, half his face would be covered by the top of it. Despite his condition, you could tell that your initial comparison to a horse was completely on the nose. Stocky as a boar, arms thick as mammoth tusks. Hairy like blonde wheat shining in the sun. You'd noticed as much, watching him rest, watching his eyelashes flutter on his cheeks as he dreamt.

///

Ghost works like you're paying him in gold. He sweats, arms swinging down over and over again above the chopping block. There's enough wood to last three winters now - maybe four. Every job he takes is finished to excess. Your roof has never looked better, re-thatched in rotting places and swept clear of mildew. The old wood fence in your garden? Replaced.

Honey-nut finds her new favourite person when he dismantles what he calls shoddy work, and rebuilds her a shelter twice as big. The chickens are still weary, but enjoy receiving the kitchen scraps he tosses.

"There's really no need for all this," you insist again, because he's come back this afternoon with an elk on his back.

"Didn't need to fix me up, either, did'ya?"

You break it down together. Ghost does the harder part, while you take cuts of meat to dry for jerky. The rest will go into a venison casserole, with juniper berries.

"Hey- Ghost?" You call. He's skinning the rest of it for furs. "I'm off to gather some berries for dinner."

A nod, and you're off.

Your basket is old, woven, carried once by your mother and now you. Silly, but special all the same. It's stained with many years of berry collecting, many years of winter nights spent tucking into fruity crostatas or summers full of juniper mead.

The hills are rife with the low, rough trees. They grow like weeds here in the Reach, mountain pocked with patches of light green and little blue berries. Once, as a child, you'd made the mistake of eating one straight off the branch. Bitter as burnt coffee, it was lesson you'd learned through tears of laughter with your mother. A happy memory.

Does Ghost have a family? You wonder again about him, about why a man like that is wasting his time mining. He could've climbed the ranks as an imperial and been a General or - divines forbid - a stormcloak. You prayed he wasn't so craven as to follow Ulfric and his band of Nord supremacists.

It's this distraction that leads you right into the waiting jaws of a sabre cat. Quick and silent, it reminds you of your patient for an absurd moment before you're tripping backwards, basket full of berries scattered and forgotten. Your hip makes contact with the ground hard, pain lancing through your joint like a spear.

Fuck, how could you be so stupid? This was a mountain, leagues away from the nearest town. Sabres, bears, wolves. You'd always, always used awareness as a first precaution. Sight, sounds, keeping your ears tuned to the slightest crack in a twig. If not, there was the bow and arrow stowed away under your bed.

Now, you were caught unawares. Muscles under it's fur rippled, a low growl in it's barrel chest, creeping toward you. Adrenaline burned through you like a fever, hot and electric all at once, freezing you in place by the weight of your heart in your stomach.

Stendarr's mercy, dying from an animal attack after living years on the craggy peaks of the mountains, avoiding ambushes and robberies. Living on goats cheese and chicken eggs, nothing yet achieved. What a waste. Miserable, hopeless tears prick at your eyes. Your breath leaves you in quick, desperate puffs. Running wasn't an option - it would only encourage the sabre. Sovngarde, here you come-

"Aaarghgh aaaaa!" A roar. Loud, ringing in your ears, as fierce as a cave bear. It's Ghost, jumping through the brush towards you with his arms above his head. "Bugger off!" He's screaming loud, voice cracking a little, the stitches at his lip tearing just enough for droplets of blood to fall.

"I'll put you down!" It's nonsense, but it's loud, and he's massive. Taller than the sabre even if it stood on two legs. When he reaches you, he steps in front of you. Shields you.

The face-off is likely less than a few minutes, but it feels like time moves as slow as honey. Ghost faces of the sabre, screaming like a madman, beating his chest and waving his arms. It creeps backward, hissing and fighting, but is cowed by his stance and size.

When it's disappeared through the maze of juniper trees, he turns to you. Extends a palm rough like bark.

"How long have you lived here, again?" His voice grates as usual, made worse by his shouting.

Your face heats in embarrassment. "A few years. I'm not usually so distracted," you dust your dress, patting yourself. Twigs and dirt fall from the wool. "I swear. I got lost picking berries."

He snorts, like you're stupid. You feel stupid.

The basket is half empty when you call it quits, tired from fear. Ghost is hunched beside you, holding his ribs again, rubbing his lip almost compulsively.

"Stop that, you'll get a thicker scar," you reach for his elbow.

"Don't care much about that, love," he shrugs your hand away.

Dinner is made in silence. It's a miracle you have the energy, but while you're physically drained your mind is running in circles. You watch with concern as he sits gingerly back on the bed. The pain in your hip pulses with sympathy, pulsing heat travelling down your leg and up your back.

"Need me to take a look at anything?" Besides his obvious discomfort, you'll have to fix his face back up. You'd prefer for him to be in a welcoming mood.

"I can handle it," Mr Stoic over here. "Did'ya take a fall?"

You drop dried frost mirriam into chopped, boiled potatoes. Then a pad of butter.

"Yes, but I'm alright," the cream sauce comes together, ladled over the venison. You're out of eidar cheese, but Honey-nuts goat cheese crumbled over everything is perfectly fine. Ghost eats like a furnace taking coal, anyhow.

"Let me see," he's up close. Again, you've been taken unawares. A sharp inhale like a gasp, heart beat picking up, breathing in the smell of him. It's gone from bloody to pine, to earth, to fresh wood. His hands find your hip and you hiss, trying to jerk away. In doing so you press your side into his chest, curled close, warm not just from the fire. "It's alright, sweet girl." He murmurs into the top of your head.

This tenderness is new. His fingers are as gentle as you've seen them in the last few weeks, pulling up the thick skirts of your dress and assessing the tender skin. It's a little hot to the touch, painful. The rough pad of his thumb brushes against you softly, making you whine.

His lips brush your hair, not quite kissing you, but affectionate nonetheless. You're close enough to see his throat bob when he swallows.

"Just a bump, huh, sweet girl?" He takes over, mashing the potatoes, setting out plates at your little wooden table, guiding you by your lower back.

You eat in relative silence, thighs brushing, a tension bubbling to the surface like stew on the fire. He spares you a few glances between bites, still wincing whenever he has to bend down.

"I'll take a look at that again before bed," you speak through a mouthful of creamy venison.

Sure enough, he's reopened some of his stitches. Not worst case scenario, but you spend a few minutes hunched over and bandaging him up again. He stares at you intently, eyes so clear and focused you wish he wouldn't. It makes your hand shake.

Moving to get up and back to your straw bed, his arm shoots out as quick as an arrow and takes your wrist in his hand. His stare is the same, squinting at you like he's waiting for you to confess something. Like he's waiting for you to give in.

"You're not sleeping on the floor," he says, sure, chest puffed. "Not with your hip. Come on now, come lay down." Gently, he tugs you down. Protests make it to the tip of your tongue and nowhere else, not with the promise of a mattress on your sore muscles and screaming hip.

It's too small though, much too small. Already he was hanging off, shoulders taking up the entire width. You curl forward, on your good side, facing away from him and into the dark. The cabin is still warm from cooking dinner.

His breath puffs on the back of your neck, hand finding your arm and stroking up and down. Soothing you. He curls around you, following the natural bend of your body.

"Simon," he whispers.

Your brow almost touches your hairline. "That's not my name."

"No," his reply is half spoken, half physical. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, bicep under you, cradling you, his big bear paw hugging your shoulder. A stray pinky ventures dangerously close to your nipple, fingers spread. "It's mine."

The world widens. "Yours?" You breathe in, out. It's trust, is what it is. He's giving you a piece of himself, this stranger, for you to hold. "Simon," you taste it in your mouth. "Simon."

He laughs against your hair. "Was watching you," he confesses. "After we got- after the ambush. Walked for days, till I found you."

"How long did you watch?" You're curious, if not a little suspicious. "You weren't casing it, were you?"

"No, nothing like that. Couldn't keep walking," he sighs loud like a dog. "Hadn't eaten, hadn't drank. Needed to know if you were somewhere I could stay."

"That's why Honey-nut was losing her mind," the realization is half funny, half scary. By the eight, you really hadn't noticed someone living so close-by for so long?

"Honey-nut?"

"You've met her, Simon. She's the goat."

"Ah," he snorts. "I've been calling her Molag-Bal, for how she's got us in the palm of her hand."

"Simon!" You shriek with laughter, shaking until he squeezes you from behind. So close his heartbeat taps against your back.

///

A week goes by, and each night is the same. You wake together, sleep together, eat together. Simon regains his strength and his wounds turn into scars. His face is deeply marked, but you've never known him another way. Truthfully, it adds to his handsomeness. There's a ruggedness there that one can only develop living in the rough.

The air gets colder, frigid in the mornings and nights. Light snows have begun falling, and Honey-nut begins her bleating until you put up the winter wall of her shelter, boxing her in. The chickens slowly cease laying eggs, bundling together, clucking at Simon when he checks for the seasons last bounty.

The time to make a trek to Markarth is creeping. You need dried goods, grain, seeds for spring, dried meats, elixirs - everything. It'll be your last trip before you're stuck in the freezing mountains with nobody but Honey-nut to talk to.

Books are your salvation during the cold months.

"I have to get supplies soon," you break the news to Simon early in the morning, when the light just barely creeps over the craggy peaks of the mountains. "In Markarth."

There. It's over with - telling him. You know you're being a coward by not asking directly, but you need to know. What is he going to do now that he's healed? Spend a few more months with you? You're still mostly strangers, practicing domesticity together, but strangers nonetheless.

"Can't go to Markarth," he says.

"Why's that?"

Simon looks at you then, eyes hard and tender at the same time. He grimaces a little, scar twisting wit his expression.

"Used to work there," A pause. "Used to… mine there."

"What?" Cidhna mine is for prisoners. You take a small step back, shaking your head. "What?" You repeat. Cidhna mine? Is that how- oh. His injuries, his waiting to see who you were before approaching. By the gods, you've been tricked!

"You tricked me-" you start, upset. Was he a killer, a robber? Images dredged from the recesses of your mind float to the surface. Men, fire, your mother cut down before you.

"No, no," he interrupts. He's shaking his head, not quite stepping forward but leaning toward you. Eyebrows drawn up, palms facing you in supplication. "Sweet girl, I," he looks around then, as if the words will appear written in smoke from the hearthfire. "Listen to me please," he pleads.

"Tell me what you did!" It's a near-shout, but you're upset. He's been cozying up to you while running from the law. Not that you're a total stickler for rules, but the men at Cidhna mine aren't there without reason.

The most secure prison in Skyrim.

"I will, I'll tell you. Just sit down please, sit with me." He pats a chair, sitting in the one beside it. Beseeching you. "Cm'ere, sweet girl. M'sorry."

///

You sit quietly while he tells you, choking a little on the rising tide of emotions. The biggest question is should you believe him? This story of his past, his father, a childhood spent learning to steal and bully to survive. Elixirs for a brother hooked on skooma, food for a mother grown sickly from her husbands abuse. Eventually getting rid of his father altogether, and wining up in Cidhna.

"If what you say is true," your voice wavers, throat tight with emotion. "Why not tell me?"

He shrugs his shoulders, looking up for a moment as if asking the divines for guidance.

"You never asked."

For a moment, you want to be indignant. You laid with him, cooked for him, wiped blood and sweat off his brow.

But he's right. You never asked, never thought to - just wondered, minded your business, content to help someone in need of it. The feeling of betrayal loosens in your chest, releasing it's vice grip on your heart, a calmer acceptance taking place.

The position it leaves you in is awkward, even if you're content to believe him. You've been too yielding since you met him. Accepted him into your home, accepted his story. Ambushed by bandits? A silly lie, now that you think of it. Vague, believable. Easier than explaining that guards had slashed him as he escaped imprisonment. That he couldn't go back because he was so recognizable.

You don't speak as you get ready. It's not an angry silence, but one brought by embarrassment. How stupid he must think you are, cozying up up to him like that.

The question of where he'll go burns still in your mind, in your gut. You're nervous, fingers shaking a little as you wrap long strips of warm wool on your calves, forearms, and between your fingers. Your dress is double-layered, boots sturdy.

It's a trip and half, lugging everything. You're on foot until you reach the nearest inn, and from there you rent a horse and cargo carriage. Easier from there, with Jazbay the white mare to pull you along.

"I know someone in Cidhna," Simon interrupts your thoughts. He's always tall, imposing, a little intimidating. Now he looks as sheepish as a man like him can look. "Could you…" He extends his hand, a letter clasped in it.

You grimace, but nod curtly.

"Thank you, honey," he breathes a sigh of relief. Honey. That ones new. It fills you with warmth.

"You're welcome to stay with me," you blurt. Impulsive, stupid. Brought on by the familiarity of his affection. "For the winter, I mean."

He's across the cabin in two steps. He presses his front to yours, hands cupping your cheeks, thumbs gently rubbing your cheekbones.

He kisses you, then, and everything slides into place. Your stomach tightens, hands coming up to grasp his shoulders, gasping into his mouth. It's wet, lips smacking noisily, the only sound in the near-frozen forest. Acceptance, sweet and buttery. This is a man whose never had a home.

"I can't stall any longer-" you try. He interrupts you with his mouth again, long kisses like it's reviving him, revitalizing him. "I gotta-"

"Shh, sweetheart," he hums lowly. Gods, you've never been this wet. It soaks into your cotton underwear, clit pulsing in time with your heart. "Let me take care of you, yeah?"

///

He's so solid, firm muscle and hard cock. It leaks between his legs, bobbing with his abdomen where he's kneeled on the floor, face in your cunt.

"Simon!" You're shouting, unabashed. Years have passed since anyone's touched you last, and you're sensitive as a maid, gripping his too-long hair almost meanly. Simon licks you like a starving man, slurping, letting you drip and then sucking it off your skin. His fingers find the entrance of your pussy, fitting himself in two at a time.

Once you've begun, you can't stop. He fucks you on the bed, letting it creak dangerously. Bends you over the table, cock dragging in and out of you deliciously. You shake and shiver in his arms, wrung out and insatiable all at once.

"Can I have you here, sweet girl?" He thumbs at your other hole, dipping in, kissing your inner thighs.

"Yes, gods yes, Simon," you drag his name out. Si-i-mon. It sounds good that way, breathy, not spoken but moaned and screamed. It's late evening, dark, colder now that you haven't lit the fire.

No need, when his cock is as hot as coals and slides between your arsecheeks like a divining rod. Your pussy is aching and hot, too-sensitive. You're belly down on the bed again, hands gripped in the sheets.

When you deliberately relax your muscles, he fits his fingers in your ass using come as lubricant. Spits down onto you, watches you start to rub yourself into the bedding desperately.

"None of that," he pants, pulling you up by your hips. A whine builds in your throat, which he shushes by pushing his other two fingers in your cunt. You yelp, moving toward him and away from him. He keeps you still, firmly holding your hips.

You come, tears beginning to leak into your sheets, when he presses his cock against the notch of your hole and pushes in.

A long, deep groan from the pit of his stomach starts and doesn't stop until he's sheathed. You're frozen, stuck in a gasp that doesn't end, filled to the brim.

Simon begins to rock, shallowly, stealing your breath and breathing it back into you with every thrust. It's then that you begin to make sound, crying out and fisting the sheets, rocking your hips with him. He reaches around, leaning down to kiss your shoulders and play with your clit at the same time.

"Not gonna last," he says into your skin. "Gonna come inside you again."

You're easy - so sensitive that if he breathed on you long enough you're sure you'd peak. His fingers twisting and pinching your clit is pure madness, and you tighten like a vice around him as you yowl your last orgasm of the night.

His hips snap into yours roughly, abandoning your clit for the flesh of your hips, pounding, dragging, grunting into you as he finds his own release.

Half-asleep, you fell him roll over onto his side and turn your head to face him. He's smiling lazily, stroking your skin, still sweating from exertion.

"I'll come with you tomorrow," he whispers.

"I thought you couldn't come to Markarth?" Confusion prickles at you, brows coming together. He finds the furrow with his thumb and smooths it away.

"I can't, honey. But I can come down and wait for you."

"You will?" Hope rises in you, in tandem with affection.

"Always," his voice is a soft murmur.

"Tomorrow, then."

"Tomorrow. Goodnight, sweet girl."

<3

[runariya]

The Auction (JJK) • Chapter 6 FINALE

pairing: wolf hybrid!Jungkook x cat hybrid!female reader genre: mafia!AU, hybrid!AU, dystopian!AU, S2L, dark romance, slow burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: foul language, angst, being held hostage, obsession and possessiveness, fluff, smoking, OC's parents are still shit, scorpion hybrid (sorry angel, I had it already written lol), multiple murder, mentions of bodies, semi-graphic description of beating someone to death, blood, wounds, explicit sexual content, smut, oral (m. receiving), JK whines a lot but not sub, unprotected sex, marking and bonding, knotting, love confessions <3, lmk if I forgot smth word count: ~ 3K

a/n: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • masterlist

Three things.

There are three things you realised while living with Jungkook.

One—you’ll never, ever, under any circumstances, humiliate him again in public. Not because he doesn’t deserve it sometimes, but because it’s the dumbest and most dangerous thing you could do. Not just for him and his whole organisation, but for you too—it puts your life at risk.

Sure, him killing someone in that nightclub didn’t change much, but his friends seeing him like that, howling, has strained their relationship, and you’re not sure how he’s managed to keep them in line since. You know killing them off wouldn’t be an option to regain his control though. 

Of course, you’d apologised to Jungkook more than once, and he brushed it off like it was nothing, like even though you’d hurt him, he’d still forgive you.

Which brings you to the second thing you realised.

As much of a lunatic as Jungkook is, he’s kind and loving to you. After the branding—that was the first and last time he hurt you physically—he’s never laid a hand on you again or said anything cruel. You still don’t fully understand why he feels the way he does about you, but you’ll get the answers out of him soon, once he emerges from his study to join you by the fireplace.

Just yesterday, you’d asked Jungkook if you could call your parents. To your surprise, he let you without much thought, but stayed right beside you, insisting the phone be on speaker so he could hear.

The call didn’t last long, no. After a few rings, your dad picked up, and you couldn’t help but cry and call his name, only for him to hang up straightaway. You tried again, but no one answered after that.

That’s when you knew Jungkook had been telling the truth all along. And that’s when you finally saw him for who he really is: someone whose only goal in life is to keep you safe and loved, even if it started in a way you hated.

“Don’t think about it,” Jungkook says, sitting down next to you, his arm draped behind you on the headrest as he kisses your temple.

“About you being whipped for me?”

“That you can think about.”

He pulls you close, and you lean into him, soaking in his warmth and scent. The penthouse is still too cold for you; you only feel warm when you’re near Jungkook or the fireplace. One day, you’ll have to ask him to turn up the heating a bit more.

“Jungkook?”

“Hm?”

“Why me?”

There’s an ease in the way you both speak, in how comfortable he seems, and you wonder if it’ll last. Jungkook knows exactly what you’re asking, like he always does, so there’s no hesitation in his voice as his hand moves absentmindedly, tracing soothing circles on your shoulder.

“You don’t remember, do you?”

“Remember what?”

Jungkook stares off, a nostalgic smile tugging at his lips as he lights a cigar.

“Beomseok’s little shop around that dodgy corner. You were sixteen, I think. Always working, every shift it seemed, just to help your shitty family when you should’ve been enjoying life.”

You sit up, startled that he knows about your past.

“One of the many times I stopped by, you cleared out the whole shelf because a bug got stuck in your fur or something.” He chuckles, as if picturing it. “And I helped you. Always did after that.”

“The scrawny boy in the black hoodie and face mask! That was you?”

“That was me.” He nods, locking eyes with you, his gaze full of adoration.

“You made my life so much better back then.” You smile, your hand moving up and down his thigh.

“Back then, I swore I wouldn’t drag you into my world, but I’d keep you safe. Neither worked out, clearly.”

“But I’m safe,” you cut in, unable to bear the sadness in his eyes.

“No, as long as you’re with me in this world, you’re not.”

“Jungkook, I am safe with you,” you insist, determined, because it’s true. You’ve never felt safer than when you’re with him. Not back then, and not now.

Jungkook just nods, as if he’s not entirely convinced but doesn’t want to argue. It’s enough for now, you reckon, and with a bit of courage, knowing you’ve never thanked him properly for all he did for you, you lean in just as he takes another puff of his cigar and kiss his cheek.

“Thanks for saving me, Jungkook.”

He smiles, pulls you against his chest, kisses the top of your head, and mumbles, “Anytime, love.”

You know Jungkook brought you catnip just yesterday when he came back from ‘work’. You also know it should be with your baking supplies, but there’s no trace of it now. You’ve been through every cabinet twice by this point, even pulled out all the tableware just to be sure. But nothing.

There’s no way you’re going out now to buy the ones you’ve been snacking on up until a few days ago, especially after learning from some TikTok that they’re unhealthy because of… well, you don’t even remember anymore. But you’ve looked up a recipe since, and you need to bake some asap before the withdrawal hits too hard.

Knowing Jungkook definitely knows where the catnip is, and that he’s currently two floors down—a floor he’s actually banned you from entering, though he did give you the passcode, your birthdate, in case of emergencies—you head straight for the lift, figuring this is the very definition of an emergency.

You’re shocked when you step out; the floor’s empty of furniture, the walls bare, like an unfinished building. Still, you make your way to the only visible door, soft grunts coming from behind it, and you reckon it’s just his gym.

You walk in without knocking—and freeze, eyes wide at the sight in front of you. It’s not a gym at all, but a floor dedicated to torture.

There are several dead, bloodied bodies off to the side, with Jimin standing nearby, his bored eyes fixed on the brutal scene unfolding before him.

A man’s tied to a chair, barely conscious, as Jungkook, his back to you, hammers down bloody fists over and over into the guy’s face.

It doesn’t take long for Jungkook to stop abruptly and turn, his eyes locking onto yours in shock, sensing your presence before he even hears you.

“Leave!”

But you can’t tear your gaze away from the scorpion hybrid slumped in the chair—the very man who sold you at the auction. Looking again at the bodies, you recognise each one of them now.

The one who kidnapped you and every single person you crossed paths with during your captivity.

“I said leave!” Jungkook barks again, but when you meet his eyes, it’s not anger you see—it’s worry.

You just shake your head, walking silently over to stand beside Jimin, who doesn’t dare say a word. Jungkook looks unsure, but when you give him a nod, something shifts in his expression, like a curtain falling over his very soul.

He turns back to his victim, fists resuming their precise rhythm, as if nothing had interrupted him in the first place.

You’d always thought watching Jungkook work would make you sick, would make you feel something. And while there’s still anger bubbling inside you at the sight of the men who wronged you, you don’t feel much of anything else. There’s not a single part of you that’s repulsed by the sight of death caused by Jungkook, not even at the blood or the life slowly draining from the man in front of you.

Jungkook’s assault isn’t anything dramatic, either—it’s like he’s training on a punching bag, nothing more. No show, no curses, no shouting—just the unrelenting, wet clap of fist meeting flesh.

With one final uppercut, it’s over. The sickening crack of the man’s neck rings out, and Jungkook stops, panting quietly, his body still as he stares at what he’s done—for you.

“Let’s go home, Jungkook,” you call softly.

“You *are* home!” he snaps.

“I am,” you reply, your voice and eyes loving as his gaze meets yours, finally registering your words.

Jungkook’s tense muscles relax at that, and with a single nod, he walks with you to the door, keeping a small distance as he instructs over his shoulder, “Take care of the rest.”

“Yes, boss.”

There’s nothing said on the way back to the penthouse, and you reckon Jungkook needs a minute to calm down, adrenaline still too prominent in his scent. His clothes are soaked in blood, the smell slightly bothering you now, but it’s the ticking of his jaw and the worry in his eyes that has you more concerned.

Sure, you can read him—his eyes and scent give him away without much thought—but you never fully know what’s going on inside. He’s the first to enter the bedroom, and before you’ve even had the chance to close the door, he’s already disappeared into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

You leave him be for now, giving him space to literally wash away his sins before you need to talk, not about the catnip, but to finally tell him what he means to you, to thank him.

It doesn’t take long before Jungkook emerges from the bathroom, towel wrapped low around his hips, happy trail on display, and for a second, you lose track of what you wanted to say, though you quickly recover.

“Sit down,” you say, already perched on the bed.

He’s hesitant, you can see it in the way his eyes dart around, but he still obliges.

Again, he doesn’t sit right beside you, leaving a bit of space you can’t stand. So, you shuffle closer, taking his hands and inspecting the split knuckles. There aren’t many, and the few that are split are minor, probably because he’s used to this—knows how to throw a punch without hurting himself.

“Thank you, Jungkook.”

“It’s not enough.” He shakes his head.

“It is.”

“It’s not.”

You think for a moment, and then it hits you. “You are enough, Jungkook.”

His head snaps to you, searching your face for a lie that isn’t there.

“You are enough. This is enough. I want to stay. This is my home, and you’re right—I don’t hate you.”

Jungkook’s hand reaches for your face, cradling it softly, as if he needs to touch you to believe it’s real.

“I love you, Jungkook, and I’m sorry for being difficult.”

“You’re not, love, never were.”

There’s a moment for everything, and you reckon this is the moment you want to kiss him, to be kissed by him. You press your hands to his bare chest, leaning forward until your breaths mingle, barely any space left between your lips and his.

You see his eyelids flutter shut, and with that, you close the distance, capturing his soft upper lip. It feels like your life has finally clicked into place, like you’ve been waiting for this moment forever without knowing it. 

You straddle his lap as your tongue plays with his, not in a battle for dominance but as equals, moaning softly into the kiss like a song composed by only you. Occasionally, a whine escapes his throat, and you don’t mind in the slightest, knowing it’s just his genes, just as your purring is from yours.

“Please touch me, Jungkook.”

This time, he listens, his hands cupping your ass and giving it a firm squeeze, pushing your clothed cunt against his hard-on. You want him, want him to claim you, so you speed up the process of undressing, not only yourself but finally pulling off the towel around his waist while kneeling between his legs.

Looking up, your purring louder now, you meet his dilated eyes, seeing your reflection in his pupils. He wants you just as much as you want him, and the knowledge feels so damn satisfying, you can’t help but wrap your tiny hands around his thick cock.

Jerking him off is easy, his precum already slicking his shaft, making your strokes smooth.

“Yes, kitten,” Jungkook breathes, his eyes never leaving yours, too captivated by what you’re doing to close them.

The sight of him has you practically drooling, unable to swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth. It’s your cue to take him properly. You stick out your tongue, licking from his balls to the tip, then taking him all the way into your mouth until you can’t breathe anymore. Your purring gets louder from the taste of him, drawing an approving moan from his lips.

“Fuck, you’re so good to me. So fucking good, kitten.”

Spurred on by his words, you try sucking from your throat rather than your mouth, massaging his tight balls with the excess saliva as you gag slightly from his size. It’s exactly what he wants, what he needs, his abs clenching as his breathing becomes ragged in seconds. 

You feel invincible, like a goddess, taking him in like a champ, not stopping until he grabs your face and pulls you back, both hands cupping your cheeks.

“Enough,” he pants, his eyes burning into yours as he helps you up, too dazed to do it yourself.

Jungkook’s mouth is on yours in an instant when you fall onto the bed, not caring about his own taste as he devours you, his tongue tracing along your lips and neck. He pauses there, snapping out of his instincts for a second, as if he’s debating whether to mark you.

“Mark me,” you moan, your cunt grinding against his thigh, pulling his head closer by his hair.

Jungkook doesn’t respond with words. Instead, he kisses your neck, squeezing your tit, his fingers toying with your nipple.

You never tire of the sight of his back, the way his muscles flex with every movement of his head, while his touch sets every nerve ending on your body on fire.

“Let me love you right first,” he murmurs against your lips, lining up his cock with your soaked cunt and pushing inside as he kisses you.

The stretch and burn are familiar, but it’s different now, with him finally touching you, holding you. It’s not rushed or wild like it was when you fucked yourself on him before. It’s slow and loving, his thrusts deep until he’s buried fully inside you.

Jungkook doesn’t stop kissing you, doesn’t stop kneading your breasts as he picks up his pace, his cock sliding out just enough to keep you connected before thrusting back in, uniting your bodies over and over again.

You love this side of him, love every side of him, and it’s all you can manage to moan, his name like a prayer on your lips. Not knowing how long you’ll last, even though you never want it to stop, you grip his head, pushing him up slightly to meet your eyes.

His brows are furrowed, his rosey lips swollen and shiny, begging for more kisses, but you hold back for just a moment.

“Please mark me, Jungkook.”

“I won’t control you, kitten,” he pants, his thrusts not faltering.

“No, please bond with me.”

Jungkook almost collapses on top of you, his whine so loud it drowns out the wet sounds of his cock driving into you.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” you cry out as he hits just the right spot.

You expect him to go for it immediately, but instead, he kisses your neck again, taking his time, almost reverent in how he prepares to mark you.

He takes one last deep inhale of your scent before finally sinking his fangs into your neck, growling, “You’re mine.”

The added rush of arousal from his bite, combined with the way his hips move faster, has you seeing stars behind your eyelids. You hope Jungkook feels the same, wanting to share everything with him.

When he pulls back to admire the mark, he kisses you again, harder this time, the taste of your blood on his tongue not dampening the moment.

“Mark me too,” he moans against your lips, his sweat dripping down his perfect nose onto your face.

Your hand runs up his back, tangling in his hair as he exposes his neck for you, and you guide him closer to your mouth.

Taking a deep breath, his scent making you dizzier than ever, you sink your teeth into his neck—not because it’ll do anything permanent, just leaving small marks from your tiny canines—but it’s symbolic, and that’s all that matters for both of you.

“I love you,” he whines out, and it’s your bite that gives Jungkook the final push. His cock swells even more, his thrusts becoming irregular. “Where, love?”

“Inside!” You mewl, the added sensation of his cock growing inside you pushing you over the edge too, your legs wrapping tightly around his hips to keep him close.

“Fuck, ___, I love you so much,” Jungkook shudders, coming just as forcefully as he entered your life, nearly paralysing you with the sheer amount of cum filling you.

It’s the last push you need as your orgasm bursts with his, your cunt clenching around him like second nature. 

Jungkook starts to pull out, but you hold him in like a vice, wanting him to knot you and affirm again that this is final. That he is your finality.

There’s not much said but the soft love confessions whispered against your lips and skin, not much done but lying together, basking in the safety and love you’ve found in each other.

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • masterlist

a/n 2: tysm for reading and being patient with updates 🥹 lmk what you think in any way you like! Character asks and drabble requests for this fic are still open 💕

Check out my other work here!

All Rights Reserved © @/runariya 2024

taglist: @jksusawife, @kookiewithluv, @justjkkkkk, @staytinyville, @jaiuneamesolitaiire , @ericawantstoescape , @mjuser, @sp1derk0ok , @fluttershyvanilla, @lachimolalajeon , @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @llallaaa , @m00njinnie , @passionandsuga , @scuzmunkie , @lerasi , @11thenightwemet11 , @bts-ruu , @metalheadfangirl2001 , @unadulteratedwitcher , @qmsvpx, @minghaosimp, @kittycatkrissa, @weareatthebadlands, @fluttershy-vanilla, @bangtannie7, @closer-to-jungkook, @dreamcatcherluvr, @blueofocean

[nordicseal]

I made some simlish billboard overrides for my game recently so i wanted to share them!

Comes with a better call saul billboard (inspired by the ts3 one,) "keeping up with the goths" billboard, don lothario in the bachelor starring the calientes, foxbury university billboard, bella goth from ts2 playing the sims 3 lol, a kindergarten teacher ad that i forgot to put in the gif sigh ++. enjoy!

Creds to @helgatisha for some of the simlish graphics

Download on my patreon now for free

[sleepsacked]

for eternity, c.s.

+ college student!choi san x college student!afab!reader

+ part: 3/3 (this is all the previous parts put into one revised and extended part, so this CAN be read as a standalone!)

+ word count: 19.9k (english isn’t my only language so this is 90% edited to the best of my ability, i am so sorry for grammatical errors x)

+ tags: 18+, minors/ageless blogs dni! tags are below the cut, it’s a lot lol

+ summary: classic story of experienced reader corrupting innocent boyfriend who managed to end up together after being partnered up for a class project and explore their filthy fantasies together.

+ a/n: guys... i know. it's been two years since i uploaded on this story and trust me when i say there has not been a moment where i did not think about sitting down and uploading on here especially because i still get notifications of people re-blogging and liking the previous parts. with that being said, i revised the previous parts and fixed up my grammar and added bits of more plot to each along with adding what would have been stand-alone third part had i not decided to add all three/three and a half? (1, 2, 2.5, 3) parts together. 

please show this some love if you can, and feel free to leave me any suggestions on who you wanna see me write for next...  thank you all again for your extreme patience x

© sleepsacked 2024 / wanna buy me a coffee? xo

+ tags: semi-story building/plot, light humor, college au, virgin!san, experienced!reader, (tried to make it as gender neutral as possible), rest of atz making occasional appearance but mostly reader x san, clumsy/nerd!san, dry humping, grinding, panty stuffing? cum stuffing? hand.. grinding?, filthy makeouts, usage of pet names (babe/baby/love/sweet boy/pretty girl) a lot, teasing, sniffing..(?), vibrating dildo, body worship, hair pulling, cum play, size kink?kinda?, slight dom!reader x sub!san dynamic, slight serivce top san too lol, maybe dom san for a split second, nipple play, bed??humping??, cunnilingus, masturbation (m), panty usage(m) it'll make sense when you read lol, panty kink, begging, squirting, creampies yay, perv!san, slight corruption kink, imagination/dirty fantasy/sexuality exploration??, dirty talk, tongue play(?), whiny san yay, slight body image insecurity, slight relationship insecurity on san's part, reader is canonically on birth control ok, kinda fluffy, kinda realistic, reader and san have good communication okay, if i forgot anything lmk x

-

You and San had met in your graphics design class at the beginning of your third year of university, which was a class that had nothing to do with your major and was just some random filler class that fit into your schedule for some elective credits. 

Although he had sat on the other side of the room, he had surely made a solid impression on you. When you’d see him stroll into class, you never failed to notice how his broad shoulders expanded as he fixed his bag from falling down his arm, or how his slim waist was accentuated by whatever pair of sweats he decided to wear that day. You also never failed to notice his slight resemblance between a fox and a cat, he was definitely mesmerizing to say the least.

It wasn’t until your professor assigned a partner project; and as if fate couldn’t have been anymore real- the two of you were paired together.

You had noticed that he hadn’t spoken much in class throughout the semester, listening intently to the professor’s lectures (or just really good at pretending), and occasionally getting up to use the bathroom. Because of these facts alone, you concluded that he was more on the reserved side of society and opted out for keeping to himself; finding a quiet peace in marching to the beat of his own drum… far from most of the guys you typically sought after.

You were familiar with guys like those who were in alpha tau zeta or beta sigma tau; the ones who were easy to bring to bed but awful to bring home to your parents.

“Hey, I’m Y/N. Looks like we’re partnered together,” you laughed lightly.

“San,” he lowered his head in a quick nod, gathering his backpack to place on the floor and scooted his chair to the side to welcome you. As you sat down, you stole a quick glance in his direction before situating yourself to move your focus to the professor and the instructions for the project that was about to take course over the next couple of weeks.

-

“Alright, well if there’s no more questions, you guys are free to go for the day. And again, please don’t wait ‘til the last minute to begin your projects. Make sure you and your partner are on the same page. Have a good weekend everyone,” your professor waved. As the class began to file out, you looked back at San, noticing how slow he was at making his way out.

“Are-”

“I-”

“You go ahead first,” you laughed lightly, taking note of San’s avoidance of eye contact and the light blush that began to creep up on his neck. He clutched his backpack tighter before letting out a sigh and finally meeting your eyes.

“I was just going to ask when you wanted to begin working on our project… I’m free on the weekends and I don’t have any classes on Fridays either,” his voice trailed off, his eyes averting to the wall behind you and then back to you again.

Oh, he is going to be the death of you.

You hummed. “Yeah, weekends work for me. No classes on Friday either so we can start tomorrow? You live on campus?”

“Yeah, I live in the Arts Hall,” San nodded.

“Really?” Your eyebrows raised, “I do too. Here. Lemme get your number and I’ll text you later and we can figure out a time to meet up! I have a meeting to go to that starts in 10 and it’s on the other side of campus,” you began to pull out your phone, opening up the keypad and handing it to San.

“Oh? Oh, yeah, okay, just text me whenever. I didn’t mean to hold you up,” he fumbled his words as his hand grazed yours after taking your phone from you. He typed his number and handed your phone back to you, you smiled as you took a quick glance at his contact name.

“san :3”

Cute, you thought to yourself as you gathered your belongings and got up from your seat.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m excited to start working on our project. See you around, San,” you looked at him one last time as you waved goodbye, walking out the door to head to your meeting.

-

You hadn’t texted San yet, but that didn’t mean you hadn’t been thinking about him the whole day. You were curious to know more about him, his shyness, how you never noticed that he lived in the same dorm hall as you. You figured it really wouldn’t be too difficult to talk to San and your curiosity was eating at you more than you liked to admit (it was definitely the raging hunger).

It was already past dinner, your meeting lasting longer then you had expected. You debated taking an Uber to that one pizza restaurant you’d been meaning to try out or to just head back to your dorm and make a bowl of ramen. 

With San still on your mind as you decided on dinner plans, you realized you weren’t someone who was keen on taking the lead or being a more assertive person in a situation like this, so when you found yourself open San’s contact profile in your phone and hitting the call button, you were quite surprised.

As you were about to hang up after the first few rings you heard a faint greeting on the other end of the line.

“Hello? Who is this?”

“Hi, I’m so sorry to be calling you right now… it’s Y/N-”

“Y/N? Oh, hi… hi… are you alright?”

Your chest squeezed at his sudden concern.

“Yes! Yes, I’m okay. Seriously, I’m sorry for calling so suddenly. I just got out of my meeting-”

“This late?”

“I know right… I just got out and I was about to head to this new pizza restaurant downtown and was wondering if you wanted to come with me. I know it’s a bit… weird considering we haven’t spoken to each other before today. But I figured we could talk about our project and set up a schedule to work on it or something? If you’re not busy right now, of course.”

You rambled, suddenly regretting even calling San in the first place and realizing that it was a bit awkward to invite San out to eat on a whim like this considering the circumstances.

 There was a long pause.

“Actually, it’s okay if you can’t! I know it’s super late, and I called outta nowhere-”

“I’m down. Where are you at right now?”

“Passing the library actually...”

“That’s good, I’m on the 4th floor of the tech center, I’ll meet you at those benches in front of the library, yeah?”

“Uh… yeah, yeah, I’ll wait right here.”

San hummed, before hanging up and leaving you with your own thoughts as you walked back towards the benches and sat down, waiting patiently.

-

“How’s the practice for the showcase coming along?” 

“Could be better, we’re still working on the chorus but can’t seem to mix the vocals right and it’s been pissing us off.”

“I’m sure it’s fine, you guys are perfectionists.”

“Well, of course we are Wooyoung! I’m sure you feel the same when you choreograph, right?”

“Okay, Yunho, that’s not even a good example.”

“What? It totally is! You can’t dance if the music is shit, so we have to make sure our music isn’t shit!”

“Mingi, shouldn’t you be worrying about, I don’t know, other shit?”

San laughed to himself, his fingers grazing across the keyboard as he finished typing up some discussion answers for one of his coding classes, doing his best to tune out most of the chatter that was happening amongst his friends.

His phone buzzed against the tabletop, his screen lighting up with an unknown number. His friends stayed enthralled in their conversation, paying him no mind as he answered his phone hastily.

“Hello? Who is this?”

“Hi, I’m so sorry to be calling you right now… it’s Y/N-”

Wooyoung was the first to notice that San was on the phone, not even because he was necessarily trying to pay attention but he was about to ask if San wanted to join the rest of them heading to the cafeteria to grab a quick bite before it closed for the night.

“Hey guys, shh, shh,” Wooyoung whispered as he smacked Yunho’s arm. Yunho and Mingi’s voices died down as their attention fixed on San.

“That’s good, I’m on the 4th floor of the tech center, I’ll meet you at those benches in front of the library, yeah?” San finished with a hum before hanging up the phone, feeling three sets of eyes on him.

“So who was that?” Wooyoung’s lips fell into a coy smile, a tilt to his voice as he felt himself get giddy.

“Hm?”

“Don’t tell me…” Yunho’s hand slapped Wooyoung’s shoulder before giving it a hard grip, staring at San in disbelief. Mingi was the next to chime in, as if he felt the cue to get in on the joke.

“Finally, my man San, you shooting shots?”

San’s eyes closed, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose before letting out a soft sigh.

“It was one of my classmates, Y/N, she’s my partner for this project in my graphics design class. She called asking to grab dinner and talk about what direction we wanna go, nothing crazy,” San began gathering his belongings and stuffing as much as he could in his bag in one go before getting up and slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Woah, woah, woah, kinda sounds like she’s interested, no?” Yunho wiggled his brows. San immediately shook his in disagreement, feeling the tips of his ears get hot.

“San, I mean this in like, the most loving way possible, but you almost never know when someone is interested in you and… well,” Wooyoung cleared his throat before continuing, “I think it kinda has to do with the fact that… you know… you’re a little bit of a late bloomer.” Wooyoung cupped his hands around his lips as he whispered the last couple of words in San’s direction.

“Alright!” San’s voice cracked, “On that note, I will see you guys tomorrow!”

“Be safe! Use protection!”

“To manhood!”

“Yeah! What they said!”

San continued to make way out of the building, not looking back at his friends as his face continued to heat up. The comments definitely made him nervous, he didn't think you were interested in him… right? You guys barely had a full conversation and only started talking this afternoon in class despite having been together the last month and a half in the same classroom. Was this how dating was like? Was this how people pursued each other? Was it not like best friends falling in love after years of knowing each other? I mean sure, yeah plenty of couples met in different ways, he was pretty familiar with romcoms and-

No! Focus! This is just about class, the project, getting familiar enough to get a good grade and moving forward to the next semester, no time for dating or romance, and certainly no time for sex.

San wasn’t too sure what happened next but suddenly he was lying on his back at the bottom of the stairwell, his bag barely cushioning his fall and hearing a faint yell of his name outside through the glass doors. Faint pattering against the concrete outside could be heard before the glass door swung open.

“San! Oh my god? Are you okay?” You kneeled next to him, awaiting his response.

All San could manage was a groan before he turned over on his side and slowly got up from the ground, reaching for his bag in the process. This definitely couldn’t be more embarrassing- actually, no, knowing him and his luck, it definitely could be more embarrassing in due time.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure? What even happened?”

“Um, actually, I don’t know…” his voice trailed off as he dusted off his clothing.

“What?” You laughed.

“Sorry, I mean, I think I was just lost in my head about something and must’ve missed a step.”

“Ah… lost in your head about anything in particular?” You moved to walk towards the door, reaching for the handle and letting San walk through first, his clumsy state a bit unpredictable for properly meeting up with each other.

“Thanks,” San quietly said as he walked through the glass doors and into the crisp, fall scenery that was draped prettily over the campus grounds. The trees began to lose their leaves and the colors that their foliage left painted on the ground was always the prettiest picture that San never got tired of. 

“And no. Just regular thoughts roaming around in there, I guess.” You both continued to stroll down the path that led to the student parking lot, the soft crunch of leaves creating a comforting ambiance.

“Makes sense.” You paused under one of the light posts, the sun setting enough that the lights emitted a soft glow that accentuated all different types of contours on each of your faces.

“I can order the Uber, by the way. I wasn’t sure when you’d head down or what you wanted to do or anything but I can order it, I don’t think it’ll take long to get here,” You began mumbling as you reached for your phone in your sweater.

“Uber? We can just take my truck, no?”

“You have a truck?”

“Nothing fancy, trust me, it's an ‘06 model,” San laughed, wondering why it was so surprising he owned a truck. He motioned for you to follow as he continued the path down to the parking lot, you followed behind. 

“But a truck?”

“What? A guy can’t own a truck?”

“No, it’s not that- I just mean, you don’t really seem like the truck kinda guy.”

San shrugged, “Gets me from place to place, plus she’s still kicking.”

San led the way to his truck that was parked conveniently in front of the entrance of the tech center.

“No way this truck has crank up windows,” You said in disbelief as you hopped in. “I haven’t seen these in like years, like years, San.”

He threw his head back as he laughed, giving you a shrug as you guys drove off with mindless chatter being shared amongst the both of you.

-

And that was how your relationship with San began; working as partners for a project (which you both aced) that soon led to hanging out at every free moment either of you had. Countless spontaneous dates throughout the course of those next few weeks of you inviting him out to eat dinner with you at that pizza joint. It wasn’t very much longer until San had finally asked you to be his romantic partner.

You were made aware of San’s inexperience, both in dating and intimacy, and honestly, it wasn’t something that was entirely concerning to you. You had a feeling that maybe his experience wasn’t… all there, and you were content with moving at a gradual pace, his pace. Quite truthfully, your pride and ego was well-fed knowing that you’d be the only one to share these experiences with your boyfriend for the first time.

Today, however, you had noticed a shift in San’s attitude and he was more clingy than normal; sticking to your side like glue whenever you went anywhere within your student living apartment. It started off with not wanting to let you get out of bed to use the restroom, clinging onto your waist tighter as you tried wiggling your way out of his arms and nuzzling his head in your neck with a low whine. Your head fell back against the mattress, letting out a sigh.

“Baby, what’s wrong, hm,” you stopped to look down at him as best as you could given your current state. You weren’t annoyed, by all means, but something was definitely bothering San and you were maybe just a little hurt that he was acting differently like this as a way to let you know. You wiggled around again, snaking your arm around his back and combing your fingers through the short hairs that were at the nape of his neck. 

San nuzzled his head deeper into the crook of your neck, the feeling of his eyelashes fluttering against your sensitive skin giving you goosebumps.

“Nothing’s wrong… just- I don’t know. Just wanna be around you, s’all.” Sans lips grazed ever so lightly as he spoke against your skin.

You hummed in faux agreement, “Okay, whatever you say. Lemme get up and go pee, then I can make us something to eat and we can put on that one show you were telling me about the other day, yeah?”

San squeezed his arms around you tightly one last time, before he rolled over and laid against the bed, a pout forming on his lips.

“Fine, that sound’s good.”

-

You were bent over, looking in the fridge and wondering what the hell you were going to cook up. The groceries didn’t look promising, probably because there was a lack thereof, and it was enough to have you close the fridge and look for something in the pantry.

Suddenly, muscular arms wrapped around your body, one around your waist and the other around your upper chest. Light kisses were peppered and pressed against your shoulder and the back of your neck.

“Baby, can’t we just order delivery? I miss you and want you back in bed,” San voiced through his tiny ministrations on your neck. You couldn’t help but giggle at your boyfriend’s clinginess, this level of clinginess being a new side of him you had yet to see. However, you still tried your best to keep your composure, but his broad chest felt so warm against your back that you couldn’t help but indulge in his affection.

“You sure you're okay? You’re not running a fever? Or a concussion?” You tried to turn your head to face him, but his kisses were too distracting on your body and San always had a way of making you feel like he was worshiping you. His arms squeezed you tighter, pulling your ass to meet his crotch. He gave a little thrust and you felt his hard-on press into the clothed crevice of your ass. San gave you one last kiss before he rested his chin on your shoulder and looked at you with hooded eyes.

“Yes, love, I’m okay. I just miss you, “ San leaned forward, pressing your noses together before pushing his hips up into you again, his eyes fluttering softly before he looked back at you.

“So this is why you’re being like this, huh?” A small smile formed on your lips, quickly leaning in to peck San before pulling away. “You want me to help you out?” San turned his gaze away from you, the tips of his ears becoming hot and red, which you found more than endearing.

“Whatever you wanna do right now, I’m okay with, San. Just do whatever you think might feel good for you, okay?” You spoke softly, somewhat anticipating if your boyfriend was going to make any type of move. The farthest you had gotten with San was the occasional heavy make-out sessions with occasional groping- but he never reached to touch you where you wanted him most.

San released you from his grip, not speaking as he turned you around and gently grabbed your wrist. You looked at him, waiting to see if he was going to give any response but instead, he dragged you to the bedroom, leading you to stand at the edge of the bed before walking back to the door and quietly shutting it.

He turned back to look at you, his face and ears flushed before slowly walking towards you and standing in front of you sheepishly.

“You said I can do whatever I think feels good…?” San fidgeted with his fingers, pulling the inside of his cheeks between his teeth. You grabbed his hands, gently rubbing your thumb across the top.

“Whatever you want, baby. However you want, too… however you wanna use me, I trust you,” you brought one his hands to your lips, pressing gentle kisses before opening his palm and pressing your cheek against him. You heard him gulp as you briefly glanced down and noticed the tent in his sweatpants begging for some friction, alongside the faintest spot of pre-cum forming.

“May you bend over the bed?” He spoke softly as he looked at you, eyes glossed over with lust.

You smiled and nodded, lifting your head from his palm. Before you began to turn around to bend over the edge of the bed, you stood on your tip-toes, kissing the round little tip of San’s nose before you quietly cooed at him.

“Only because you asked me so kindly,” you placed a light kiss on his lips. You caught the way his nose scrunched as he fought back a smile. He knew you loved how well-mannered he was.

You turned around and bent over the edge of the bed, your clothed-ass on display for San. You weren’t sure what he had in mind as you laid in this position, but before you could ponder too long you felt cool hands push your shirt up a little so your waist was now exposed to the cold air and before San. You could feel your lover’s body heat behind you as he began to position himself closer to you. Soft massages kneaded their way into your hips and you couldn’t help but rest your forehead on your arm as you tried your best to look back and get a good view of San.

From your peripheral, you could see how timid he was. He stared down at your ass, lip between his teeth and stepping just right to get the angle he wanted behind you. The grip of his massages became harder before his hands stilled and you felt him roll his hips into your ass.

The pressure of his heavy, clothed-cock pressing into your ass had your mouth running dry. It had been awhile since you had sex, of course respecting San’s choices into wanting to take it slow (which you also had wanted to as well, thinking that the wait would most definitely be worth it). For some reason though, the idea of not going all the way right now felt far more intimate than the act itself and that familiar feeling of warmth rushing to your core was making your body become hot and bothered quick, insanely quick.

San hadn’t moved, just resting his weight against you, hips pressed firmly into your ass. His breaths were deep and slightly heavy as you did your best at turning your body to get a better view of him; trying to take in the way his cheeks were flushed and how his mouth was red and puffy from how hard he was biting it. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the way his straining cock met the curves of your ass perfectly. 

“You’re doing good, baby. Just do whatever you think feels good,” You pushed your hips back against him, hearing him let out a sigh. “You know I'll be good for you, San.”

San let out a loud whine, running his hands up your back and raising your shirt in the process before lightly scratching his nails back down and hooking his fingers into your waistband.

“Y/N, can I- is it- is it okay if I take off your pants?” San rolled his hips against your ass again and you could tell he was trying to have some self-restraint, as if not to come too soon.

“Yes, please, fuck,” you groaned. San slowly rolled your pants down over the curve of your ass, pushing himself off you just enough to get them down your legs and helping you get them completely off before kicking them away from the bed.

“My underwear-“

“I know just- just let me,” San re-positioned himself behind you and when you turned your head to glance behind you, you noticed that San had also taken off his bottoms, only leaving him in his briefs and his sleep shirt which was mostly unbuttoned, leaving the expanse of his chest exposed enough to see the pink flush.

You turned back to rest your forehead against your arm, anticipating the feeling of San's heavy (and now more thinly layered) cock against your ass. 

You felt the bed dip on the side of your head, you turned to see San’s hand gripping the duvet as his other hand found contact with your hip again. He rolled his hips into you and as he did so you felt your underwear shift up and put tension on your clit. San soon fell into a steady pace of grinding his hips against your ass, occasionally leaning down to place kisses on your shoulder and suck and nip at the back of your neck.

“Y/N, baby, you feel so good like this,” San nipped at your ear, letting out a soft moan when he looked down at where the swells of your ass slightly jiggled every time he rolled his hips.

“Yeah? Feels good?” You turned your head to look at him as best as you could, almost all his body weight was on you as he began to rut his hips against your ass. You pouted your lips at him, silently pleading for the feeling of his lips on yours. He leaned down and indulged in you, lazily moving his lips against yours. In the midst of kissing, you caught his tongue with your lips and began sucking lightly. You felt San’s hips stutter and he moaned loudly with his tongue still trapped between your lips. San suddenly pulled away, his hair matted against his forehead, shirt ruffled and lips puffy. There were traces of drool going down his chin and the idea of kissing him until he became a wet, whiny mess had your mind reeling. 

“Something wrong?” You looked up at San, glancing down at the now more noticeable wet spot on his briefs, a mixture of your desire and his.

“Nothing, it’s just if I come, I wanna look at you. Flip over for me,” San placed his hands on your hips, “please,” shooting you a cheeky smile that had you giggling.

Once you flipped over, San positioned himself to where one of his legs was nestled between your thighs and pressed deliciously against your core. His head found purchase in your neck, attaching his lips and leaving love bites everywhere he could.

“You know, I've been trying not to come fast this whole time,” San breathed into your neck. “I’m just wondering how good it’s gonna be when we actually fuck,” he lifted his head to take a good look at you. 

He hadn’t realized how fucked out you actually were and it was a mental image he wanted to keep stored in his head for as long as he could. This time you were the one getting shy, the idea of San fucking you right now, eager and clumsy, was too tempting. Your panties were sticky and truthfully it was starting to get a bit uncomfortable, but San had moved his attention back to your neck, softly rutting against your hip bone which had his thigh rubbing against your clit. You involuntarily rolled your hips against his thigh, letting out a feathery moan.

San’s head snapped up from your neck, looking down at you with furrowed brows as he pressed his thigh harder into your clothed-heat. Your eyes squeezed shut as you let out another moan, head turning to the opposite side from San in embarrassment.

“San-“

“I want you to do what feels good too,” his hand grabbed your chin, gently pulling your face to look back in his direction again. His stare was too much, his eyes averting from yours to your lips and back to yours before he moved one finger to the tip of your mouth.

As if on instinct, you opened and welcomed his index finger, gently sucking and rolling your tongue around the length while doing your best to maintain eye contact.

San's eyes were solely focused on how your lips were so perfectly wrapped around his finger as the rest of his hand maintained a semi-hard grip on either side of your cheeks.

“Fuck, I can’t do this baby, I wanna come on you. Please, can I come on you?” San’s voice quivered as his eyes made their way back up to yours. With your mouth still occupied, you nodded, moaning around his finger as a means of saying yes.

He took his finger from your mouth, gently wiping it on the hem of his shirt before reaching for his shirt collar and swiftly removing it from his body and throwing it at the foot of the bed.

“It was starting to get too hot for that. You feeling okay?” San spoke, throwing a quick glance at you before he shuffled around on the bed and placed his hands on your knees to spread your legs to make room for him. 

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” You shifted, moving your legs around so he could slot himself between you. It took you a minute to realize that San was more bare than you, something that rarely happened. San wasn’t shy or insecure about his body, at least you didn’t seem to get that impression. You knew he took good care of himself and his physique, working out as often as he could in between study sessions or dance practices. Yet, you had come to the conclusion that maybe he just wasn’t as comfortable being shirtless in a lounge setting than you had initially thought.

“Maybe, but you didn’t answer me. How are you feeling?” San laid more of his body weight on you and instinctively you brought your hands up to feel the soft flesh of his chest.

“Feeling like I'm gonna overheat in this thick ass shirt but I also don’t wanna take it off.”

His gaze softened, placing pecks across your face. He started with your forehead, leading to your left cheek and then your right. As your eyes fluttered shut, he gently placed kisses on top of your eyelids, following down your nose to your chin and then ending at your lips.

“You’re beautiful, baby. And I'll tell you a hundred times a day- no! a hundred times an hour if i have too.”

“Can I wear your shirt?” You smiled sheepishly.

His eyebrow twitched before he began to frantically nod his head, scrambling across the sheets to bring it up to you. You sat up enough to slip your shirt off and quickly replace it with San’s with ease. Thankfully, San wore pajama sets so the shirt was thin enough to not overwhelm you. San reached up to your chest, unbuttoning a few buttons on his sleep shirt that revealed just the right amount of cleavage for him to mess with.

Once settled back on top of you, he shifted his weight so that his cock laid right between your folds. the wet stains on both of your underwear making the fabric feel much thinner.

“Fuck, Y/N,” San placed one last kiss before looking down between where your bodies met, rolling his hips with purpose against your clit. The friction of the wet fabric and the pressure of the tip of his cock rubbing deliciously against your sensitive bud made you feel like you were going insane and soon enough you found yourself rolling your hips with his.

“San, baby, you’re doing so good for me, you know that,” you moaned, wrapping a hand in his hair and gently tugging. He groaned, this time pulling back far enough to slam his hips against yours.

You moaned as your back arched slightly off the bed- you weren’t sure what had come over San, but his energy had changed so much that you had forgotten he was inexperienced.

“I'm so good for you, huh?” San said through clenched teeth, rolling his hips harder and faster. This new found discovery of San enjoying praise did something for you, making your mind reel of all the intimate endeavors that would take place in the near future.

“So good you’re gonna let me come on you? Let me come all over your panties and stuff it back up in that little pussy of yours?” He was looking at you now, bottom lip glossed with saliva from sucking it between his teeth.

“Shit,” you raised your legs higher as you spread them out more, “are you sure you’ve never done this, San? I didn't know you could be so mouthy.”

San hooked one of your legs under his arm as he shifted to get a better angle to rub his cock between you.

“You’re the one and only, baby,” he laughed, “Didn’t know I had it in me either.”

You laughed, before wrapping an arm behind his neck and pulling him down towards you for a kiss. This one was by far the messiest kiss you had ever shared with San. As he rutted against you, his lips moved against yours sloppily. Thin trails of spit formed around your mouths as you sucked and licked against each other's tongues- San pulled away just enough to speak.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” his thrusts against your clit became rougher, the fabric of your underwear rubbing against you hard. You wrapped one leg around his waist, putting pressure on his lower back and pulling him closer to your body.

“I think I’m gonna come, Y/N, oh, oh fuck-“ you looked up at San, fingers still wrapped in his hair. his brows furrowed together, mouth falling into a small, cute ‘o’ shape, feeling his hips began to stutter.

“I know, baby, go ahead,” you moved your hips against his, “you did so good. Go ahead and give it to me.” 

That seemed to set San over the edge, a high-pitched whine coming from his lips and you soon felt a warm liquid fall on top of your mound. You looked down to see San still coming, hot-spurts making their way through his briefs, the mental image of him coming inside and milking him dry making your mind reel. You moaned, bringing your hand up to his cheeks and pulling him forward in a lazy kiss.

You felt San’s hand make its way to the top of your waist band as he pulled away from you and looked down.

“I wasn’t joking about stuffing you with this Y/N,” San wiped at some of his come from your underwear with his middle finger before bringing it lower to your clothed-entrance. He prodded at the wet fabric, rubbing his come at where your hole was clenching eagerly to feel some type of release. You felt him push lightly against you, rubbing in circles his come-covered finger before applying more pressure. He quickly swiped up more before going back to your entrance and pushing his fingers inside you as best he could with your underwear still creating a barrier between the two of you. Your head fell back against the sheets and your hips moved lightly against his finger.

“San,” you moaned as a hand reached down to his wrist, holding it steady as your hips moved with more fervor. You felt his hand pull back as he shifted down to be face first with your pussy. Just as you were about to pout at the loss of contact, a harder pressure was applied. You glimpsed down through hooded eyes, taking your lip between your teeth as you saw San looking back up at you to gauge your reaction. 

This time his palm was pressed against you, cupping gently and moving up and down slightly as if he were giving you a massage.

“Grind against me, y/n,” San spoke softly, turning his head and pressing soft kisses against the inside of your thigh. He pressed his palm harder against your clothed-heat, turning his attention back to you. Your hips moved on their own accord, the fabric continuing to pull and rub against your clit. Breathy moans filled the room and San used his free hand to rub gently into your thighs and waist, occasionally reaching up to your chest and grabbing roughly through your (his) shirt.

You felt his hand pull away again, only to be quickly met with a light slap, a jolt rushing through your body as you let out a gasp. Your hand reached for the duvet, twisting lightly in your palm as you craved for that feeling again.

“Harder, please, harder,” your eyes squeezed shut as you moved your hips closer to San’s face, your way of asking for some release. The knot in your stomach began to coil tighter, waiting to be pushed over the edge. San dug the heel of his hand against your clit, moving softly as you moved your hips at your own desired and eager pace.

“Oh- oh fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum,” your hand made way to find grip in San’s disheveled hair, grabbing at the base of his locks and tugging with just enough force. In the haze of pleasure, you could make a distinction of moans that weren’t your own and you had just enough time to look down in between your legs to see San with his eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed and he let out a whine. His hand pressed harder against your clit one last time before the tension in your stomach snapped and your hips stuttered against his palm.

San moaned with you, keeping his hand pressed against you as you rode out your orgasm.

“That's it, want you to give it all to me,” he turned his head against your thighs again, placing small kisses and bites along the expanse of the fleshy skin. The lingering feelings of your orgasm soon finished and you’d fallen into a comfortable daze, loosening your grip in San’s hair and softly running your fingers through it instead. Your eyes began to flutter, forgetting about the stickiness in your panties. You snapped to your senses when you felt San move forward, still between your thighs and closer to your clothed crotch. 

He inhaled where you felt the wetness of both yours and his release was mixed together, letting out a low moan before he moved back up the bed so he was directly above you.

“You are such a perv for doing that, by the way,” you laughed as you ran your hands across his chest, taking note of the flush that was creeping up his neck.

“Hey,” he whined, leaning down to nuzzle into your neck. “You said I could do whatever I thought felt right,” you could hear and feel the pout in his voice.

“I didn't say I minded you being a little perv-y, if I wasn’t so sleepy right now I might try getting off again,” your arms wrapped around his back, nails lightly scratching up and down as you felt more of his body weigh against you.

“Is that so?” San spoke softly as his lips sucked love bites into your neck.

“It is,” you moved your head to the side, allowing more room for him to kiss and suck at your neck. “You know you sound cute when you’re all whiny, San.”

“Babe,” his voice dragged out as he rolled off you, embarrassed. Your laugh rang throughout the room as you turned to your side and reached out for San before he could make it too far out of reach.

“You know I'm teasing you, baby. Now can we clean up real quick before I pass out over here?” you placed a quick kiss on San’s lips before you began to get up from the bed, the stickiness between your legs becoming too unbearable.

San followed behind you quickly, grabbing your waist and pulling you in his arms.

“Thank you,” he whispered against your hair as he hugged you a little more tightly. You smiled against his chest as you wrapped your arms around his waist, this man was definitely going to be the death of you.

-

It hadn’t been very long since your previous intimate interaction with San, and you had noticed that he was much more keen on expanding and expressing his sexual interests with you. He was more clingy, and confident, and was constantly finding ways to express his sweet affections towards you, especially in the confines of your shared apartment.

He asked questions constantly about your own sexual interests, which you found both cute and endearing as most times (all the time) he’d stutter and get all flustered at the thought of even saying such crude things aloud so casually.

So today, when he asked you about your own self-pleasure experiences, you weren’t entirely caught off guard.

You both laid in the living room, sprawled on the couch, your head in his lap as his fingers softly scratched against your scalp. He was focused on something on his phone as you felt your eyes get heavier with the comfort of having your hair played with, the noise from the television being the right amount of white noise to allow you to doze off peacefully. San set his phone down on the arm rest, leaning forward slightly to get a glimpse of you.

“Babe, you still up?” San spoke softly, removing his hand from your head and bringing it to caress your cheek. You hummed, snuggling your head into his lap to get more comfortable.

“Hm… yeah, I’m up,” you muttered, your eyes finally blinking slowly before you shut them completely. You felt him lean back against the couch, hand still resting on your cheek, his thumb slowly running back and forth.

“Well if you’re up, like up up- awake up, then I have a question. Hm… something I’m curious about.” San spoke slowly, as if he was thinking of the right way to word his sentences so as to not come across a certain way. You nodded, having enough sense to know that your boyfriend wanted to talk to you seriously, forcing your eyes open as much as the sleepiness would allow.

“I’m up, I'm up… what is it, hm?” A silence followed as you waited for San to speak, you shifted in his lap so you were looking up right at him. his eyes focused on the television, but in a way that was zoned out and not actually paying attention to the content that was displayed on the screen.

“San?” your attention on him completely now, taking note of the way his eyebrows were furrowed together as his hand had slipped from your cheek amidst your shifting and was now lying comfortably across your neck. Hearing your voice snapped him out of his little daydream as he looked down out at you, the tips of his ears catching a blush.

“Oh, yeah. Um… I was just curious about- like- how do I say- uh,” his voice trailed off as he averted his attention back to the television. You waited expectantly, having an idea where this conversation might be leading to.

“Go on,” you spoke softly.

“Have you ever… touched yourself?” San whispered, as if speaking too loudly would get him scolded by the gods above. You couldn’t help but laugh, getting up from his lap and sitting up again on the couch to face him. Sleep was no longer something on your mind as your boyfriend never failed to catch your attention in conversations like this. He pouted, avoiding your eyesight and fidgeting with his fingers in his lap.

“Sorry baby, I don't mean to laugh. You’re just too cute when you get like this,” you leaned forward to place a quick kiss on his cheek before you leaned back and answered him properly.

“Yes, I have touched myself before. Who’s asking?” you teased.

San shot you a quick glance before facing forward again, shifting to sit up straighter. He cleared his throat before speaking once again.

“With a toy? Have you- uh- ever touched yourself with a toy?” His cheeks flushed as he moved his hands higher in his lap, crossing his legs. Your eyebrows raised, a slight smile forming on your face. You scooted closer to him, laying your head on his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his bicep.

“Yes and no. I had like... one of those little bullet vibrators a long ass time ago that Heejin got me as a joke but ended up throwing that shit away ‘cause… well… it was a bullet vibrator,” you laughed, leaning your head further into his space.

“After that, it crossed my mind to maybe get actual toys. Like a vibrating dildo or a butt plug or something but it’s hard finding good sites that sell that shit discreetly and adult shops are just so… I feel too awkward,” your voice trailed, looking up to see San looking back down at you, waiting for you to finish your thoughts.

“You know how you see those videos of coffee shop baristas and they’re like ‘what your coffee order says about you’ or ‘what you look like based on your coffee order’ and it's a bunch of stereotypes that are lowkey kinda true? Yeah, I feel like that’s what would happen if I went to a sex shop. I mean, I think my kinks are pretty tame compared to extremists- at least I think they are- but… still it’s just so awkward,” you physically cringed. 

San nodded, laughing lightly at the comparison you gave between coffee shops and sex shops. You reached up to place your hand on his cheek and turned him to face you. 

“Are you asking me because you wanna get one?” You smiled mischievously.

“Well, you see, I was asking ‘cause, you know-“ San fumbled his words.

“We can if you want… I don't really mind. Is that what you were looking at on your phone?”

San nodded, reaching for his phone again, and stealing a quick glance at you before unlocking it and leaning into you so you both had a clear view of his screen.

The next hour was spent between looking at options before deciding on a generic vibrating dildo, deciding that you could upgrade later if need be. The estimated delivery time was said to be a week, so to your surprise at checking the mail room downstairs three days later with a package, was exciting to say the least.

On the way back to your room, you pulled your phone out, opening your chat with San.

y/n: bb look!

y/n: 1 file attachment

y/n: it just came in the mail... ;-)

y/n: tbh i'm surprised it got here so fast?? then again it says it came from that one town we drove thru on the way to my parents so ig it wasn’t that far??

-

“Hold on guys, gimme one sec,” San panted, breaking away from his friends and their current dance session.

“Aw shit, Mr. loverboy over here gotta answer to his girl,” Yunho teased, nudging Wooyoung as they both laughed amongst themselves.

San shot them both a teasing glare before picking up his phone and opening your messages. As he was getting ready to hit send, another message from you was delivered and soon after a photo attachment.

y/n: 1 file attachment

y/n: san omg

y/n: why does this thing look huge

y/n: its kinda cute tho good job picking it out

y/n: baby hurry up and get home plsplsplsplpslspsl need u nowww

“Whatcha looking at?” Wooyoung chirped, swinging his arm around San's shoulders and leaning towards his phone. Before San could push Wooyoung away, he was already opening his mouth.

“Damn! Is that a dildo? Since when did you get all freaky on us, man? Coulda sworn you were still a virgin!” Wooyoung grabbed his phone, clicking on the image you sent. Your hand was delicately wrapped around the base of the dildo, which was an opaque purple shade (color choice courtesy of San). Your hands did the toy no justice, because you were right- it did in fact look huge.

“Ay man, gimme my phone,” San said in his most assertive voice he could muster, not even bothering to panic or make frantic moves at Wooyoung- knowing how his friend was. It didn't help that his cheeks were tinted with a light blush and he could feel his cock stirring in his sweats at the thought of you begging for him to come home so you guys could get play around. 

“Hey, what happened?” Yunho came up to San and Wooyoung, looking between the two men. San’s phone pinged again with another message from you and Wooyoung took a quick glance, smirking, before handing the phone back to San.

“Well, our Sannie boy here seems to have gotten a bit mischievous these days, Yunho. I think we should wrap up practice early today, let him get back home to his girl,” Wooyoung said as he looked back at a confused Yunho.

San looked down at his phone quickly, wondering what could’ve possibly gotten Wooyoung to say such a response.

y/n: 1 file attachment

y/n: can’t wait to play w my sweet boy <3

The picture was of you already in bed, one of San’s shirts with some cute but simple black lace panties. Your knees were bent and the dildo was laying between your thighs as if to make it appear like you were wearing a strap-on.

San's eyes went wide, his ears feeling hot, and his stomach flipping knowing that one of his friends was well-aware about the kind of activities you and him were planning on having tonight.

“Oh yeah? I was actually planning on cutting practice early anyways. Mingi texted me asking if I could stop by the studio for some feedback on some of his and Joong’s songs for that showcase in a couple weeks,” Yunho eyed San carefully, who was staring at his phone screen intently. Wooyoung laughed as he caught Yunho's confused expression towards San.

“Alright, well I'm out then! I'll catch y’all later! I gotta meet up with Jongho and Yeosang for one of  our CompSci classes,” Wooyoung headed for the door, grabbing his jacket and bag from the rack. “Oh and San, one more thing,” Wooyoung turned around, waiting for San to look up at him and properly acknowledge him. San's attention averted to Wooyoung, waiting for him to speak.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn't do... and trust me, there’s not a lot out there I wouldn't,” he shot San a wink before slipping out the door.

“That guy, man,” Yunho laughed, shaking his head.

“Well, I'm gonna head out? Just text in the group chat when you wanna meet up again, you know when I'm free. Or let Seonghwa know,” San spoke quietly, his mind still reeling on the fact that you were home alone right now, horny, waiting for him. 

The feeling of his cock being constrained tightly against the band of his boxers turned into an aching sensation- god, he just wanted to be with you already.

“Yeah, I'll text you later,” the two men nodded at each other. San made his way to the door, and just before he had the chance to exit, Yunho called out to him.

“Ya!” 

San turned around, looking expectantly at Yunho.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn't do.” Yunho smiled, waving San off.

“Shut up, Yunho.” San laughed, giving him the middle finger and shaking his head.

And with that, San slipped out of the practice room, making his way to his car.

-

You were laid in bed, scrolling mindlessly between social media outlets, distracting yourself enough as you waited for San to get home from dance practice. 

[new notifications]

my bb: on my way home now, my love

my bb: ur kinda insane btw

my bb: sending pictures like that while im out

my bb: the guys ended practice early, had some other stuff they needed to do

my bb: ill be home in 5

You smiled reading the messages, excited to see your boyfriend after you’d both been busy with classes and any other extracurricular activities you guys were involved in, but even more so knowing that you were going to be able to try out your new toy.

When San had arrived home, you were sprawled out on your stomach, a blanket draped over your lower half, the dildo and your phone momentarily forgotten. The faint sound of music flooded the room, your eyes closed as you quietly sang along.

San was true to his word because 5 minutes later he was entering your room, jacket and shoes already off, pulling his shirt over his head and discarding it to the chair tucked under your desk. The bed dipped as you felt a hand lay across your back, opening your eyes to welcome San laying down next to you, shirtless, in the bottoms he wore to practice and sweaty hair.

“Hi,” you spoke softly, shifting to face San as a hand reached up to cup his cheek. Your thumb ran along the skin, his eyes fluttering at your soft touch. 

“How was your practice, hm?”

“It was fine. Probably one of our better ones in a while so I’m kinda pissed it ended earlier than I expected, but I'm home now so I’m not complaining.” He finished his thought with a kiss to the tip of your nose as his hand was rubbing up and down along your back.

“Well, I'm glad your home ‘cause that means I get to take all your attention.”

“Hm, so where is it? Where’s the- uh, you know…”

You smiled at San getting flustered over his words, leaning back to feel around the bed before you finally lifted the blanket to reveal the cute little toy. You reached for it, putting it between you and San as you looked back at him expectantly.

“Right here! Isn’t it cute?” 

You rotated the toy in your hands, there wasn’t much to admire apart from the color and thickness and the handle with the buttons at the bottom. San’s cheeks were flushed as his hands traveled to your waist, gripping firmly.

“Yeah.. yeah it is,” he nervously laughed. “Did you... already put batteries in it?”

“Mhm, but I haven’t tested it out yet. I was waiting for you to get home.” 

You pressed the tip of the toy into San’s pectoral, slightly shifting your hand around to press the power button at one of the lower settings, a faint buzzing echoing in your ears. San began to breathe heavier, his grip on your waist loosening as his eyes screwed shut.

“What… what are you doing?” San sighed, eyes opening slightly as he looked down at you.

“Do you trust me?” your hand stilled.

San nodded. 

“Wanna hear you say it, baby. Do you trust me?”

“Yes, fuck, I trust you. I trust you so much, please." San's eyes screwed shut again. He didn’t know what he was begging for, he just wanted something. Since he’d left the studio, he’d been fighting down his boner the whole ride home, wanting to wait for you to play with him. It felt as though every bone in him was going to snap if he didn’t get some form of release, and fast.

You used your free hand to lightly push him on his back, soon adjusting yourself to swing your leg over his waist. You leaned forward, pressing a light kiss against his lips before you rested your forehead against his.

You had nudged your nose against his softly, a butterfly kiss.

“Then lemme take care of you, sweet boy.” 

San let out a low moan, bucking his hips against you. You leaned back, pressing your weight against his cock, his chest heaving up and down quickly, arms tense at his sides. You let out a breathy laugh at his nervous reaction, suddenly feeling your own chest tighten with nerves. This was really happening, huh?

“Just relax, baby. I got you, okay?” You ran the toy that was still vibrating slightly down the middle of his chest, stopping right above his naval. 

“If you don’t like something, promise you’ll tell me, yeah?”

“Yes, yes, Y/N I’ll tell you, just- just please-” you looked below where your crotch was on top of San. He still had his practice sweats on, his cock straining so hard in the confinement.

“Is it okay if I take these off you?” 

You switched the vibrator off before tossing it to the side, getting up to stand at San’s feet which were hanging off the end of the bed. A quick yes was enough confirmation to slide his sweats off, once off your hand reached to his briefs, stopping just as your fingers hooked on either side of the band. 

“These too?” 

Another quick yes from San allowed him to be laying completely naked in front of you. His cock sprung, slapping against his naval, red and leaking with pre-cum- begging for some friction.

You crawled back up the bed, hands resting on either side of San’s head. You reached to his forehead to brush the hair that was beginning to curtain his eyes, feeling the sweat that was starting to form at his hairline. You leaned down, pressing your lips to the spot between his eyebrows and leaving a trail of kisses down to his cheeks and jawline before making a final round to his lips. His arms wrapped around your back, pulling you flush against his chest as his tongue slipped in your mouth.

You both stayed like that for god knows how long, lazily making out and groping one another, enjoying each other’s presence to the fullest. San pulled away from you, looking up at you with swollen, wet lips and flushed cheeks.

“Baby, I love kissing you so much, you know that, but my dick is so hard right now that I feel like I'm about to pass out,” he whispered, his hands pushing your shirt up and then making their way down to the swell of your ass.

You laughed, lifting yourself off of him to sit yourself in his lap but he stopped you before you could get yourself comfortable and situated.

“Wait! Wait... um- can you- would you mind taking these off?” San asked sheepishly, fingers hooking ever so lightly in the waistband. 

You felt yourself clench around nothing, you and San hadn’t been naked in front of each other like this. Not in such a lewd position at least, so the thought had your mind and body raging with nerves and excitement. You moved quickly to rid your panties from your legs, your essence following along and smearing on the inside of your thighs. San's eyes followed your movements and in the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of his dick twitching against his stomach. 

You climbed back on the bed, legs on either side of San’s hips, lowering yourself so the underside of San's cock was wedged between your pussy.

“Fuck,” San whined, hands finding purchasing on your waist again and making their way under the front of your shirt to grope at your bra-less chest. 

You were embarrassed at how turned on you were, but before you even had enough time to register that, your hips moved along San’s length. Your slick made your movements easier, stopping yourself just enough that your clit teased against the head of his cock. You felt San’s index finger flick against your hardened nipple, your hips stuttering as you let out a breathy moan.

“Baby, you’re gonna be the death of me you know that?” You moaned again as San brought his thumb up to pinch your nipple. “So cute, so good for me. Always treat me so good, fuck, got such a pretty cock too.” 

You reached to your side, grabbing the dildo and turning it on low. San's eyes followed your movement, you pressed the tip of the toy to slit San's cock. His body jolted under you, his mouth fell lax as his stomach tensed. Your free hand scratched lightly at his stomach, your other pressed the toy harder against the slit of his cock as you began to softly grind your clit along his length.

“Oh- oh my god- fuck,” San’s body shook as he let out a string of profanities. “It feels too good, y/n. I think I'm gonna come- fuckfuckfuck.”

“Go ahead, baby. You deserve it, go ahead and make a mess.” 

You moved your hips against his length faster, loving the way his stomach and thighs were flexing underneath you.

“I’m coming, oh fuck, oh-” San’s arms flew over his face as he let out a long whine. 

Hot, milky spurts painted his stomach and chest beautifully, a little bit shooting up underneath his chin and along his neck. you slowed your hips, taking in how fucked out your boyfriend looked like this.

You turned off the toy, setting it down next to you as you reached up to San, removing his arms from his face. His eyes were barely open, his whole face flushed as his bangs were matted against his forehead.

“Hey, you okay?” You whispered softly, planting a soft kiss to his lips. San hummed in confirmation, a soft smile forming on his face. 

“Good, lemme clean you up real quick.” You leaned back, swiping your finger at some of the mess on San's stomach and bringing it to your lips. To your surprise, San’s cock twitched ever so slightly, still red and half-hard.

You got up to grab the towel from your desk chair, walking back and softly wiping at San’s stomach, chest, and neck. Once finished, you settled in bed next to him, laying on your side.

“You didn’t come?” 

You shook your head no as your hand reached up to play with his hair.

“But don’t worry about it. Tonight was about you, okay?” 

San pouted, and in a blink of an eye he was hovering over you. both of his hands planted on either side of your head, his half-hard cock weighing down against your mound.

“Lemme take care of you... I wanna play with you too.” 

He sat back on his heels, his hands moving to your knees and spreading your legs apart so your pussy was on full display. Your breath hitched as you saw him reach for the toy, his hands twisting it around to maneuver the buttons on. The buzzing sound filled the room again and soon you felt a pressure against your clit.

Moaning, you looked down where San’s hand lay between your legs holding the toy. He was unsure what to do, it was clear on his face. You reached down to wrap your hand around his wrist.

“Here. Like this.” 

You moved the toy along your folds; San shifted on the bed so he was now laying on his stomach, his face adjacent from your pussy, teeth between his lips as he watched intently how you moved his hand around to pleasure yourself.

He turned the setting up a notch with his free hand, before moving it to grab underneath your thigh and placing it over his shoulder.

“Is it okay if I put- hm... put it in?” He asked, placing a quick kiss on your thigh before he turned his attention back to your fluttering hole.

“Yes, please baby, please put it in.”

You moaned as his hand moved the toy just right and the tip of the toy prodded at your entrance. The grip San had on your thigh tightened as the toy pushed its way in slowly. 

You couldn’t see, too enthralled in your own pleasure, but San’s hips had begun to rut against the bed. He’d been imagining his own cock in place of the toy, easing into you, stretching you out, making you shake, maybe even cry with how good it all fucking felt. He was eager to make you climax, so he continued to push the toy into you, giving the bed beneath him a particularly hard thrust as well.

Your walls fluttered against the toy, it’d been awhile since you’d felt so full. You’d touched yourself before but the width and length of your fingers was far different compared to how the toy felt inside you. Even far more different when it was your lover who was fucking you with it.

Your hand slid up your shirt, grabbing at your breasts as the other went to pull at San’s hair.

“Feels so full.” You moaned, your hips moving at the same rhythm of San’s hand. 

“Wish it was your cock making me feel good, want it. Want it so bad, baby.” 

You were close, so fucking close. 

San began to push the toy deeper in you all while kissing and biting at your thigh.

“Fuck- faster.” 

The grip on San’s hair tightened. The tension you felt in your belly ready to snap at any given moment.

“Like that?” San whispered, his hand pushing the toy in and out of you.

“Yes- don’t stop. please, please baby don’t fucking stop. I’m gonna come-” You squirmed along the bed, trying to move your hips along with the perfect rhythm that San had created. 

You felt him press your hips down to still you, his head moving forward as you felt his lips place a feathery kiss to your clit before giving it a harsh suck. You finally snapped.

“Oh fuck I’m coming- fuck! I’m coming.” You whined as your legs tried closing in around San to snap shut.

San didn’t let up on the sucking, still holding the toy deep inside you trying to make the most of your orgasm. He moaned against your clit, releasing from you with a faint pop and leaning his head against your thigh.

You looked down at him as he pulled to toy out from you, his eyes admiring how wet you’d made it. As if his curiosity got the best of him, he brought the toy to his mouth and wrapped his lips around the tip. His eyes met yours as his cheeks hollowed out, pushing the toy further in before pulling out and licking his lips clean. He made his way back up to you, putting all his body weight on you and nuzzling his face into your neck, letting out a sigh of content.

“You taste good, babe, wanna eat you out next time,” San whispered in your ear, his tongue playfully licking at your earlobe.

“I don’t know how you do it.” 

San lifted his head from your neck and peppered kisses all over your cheek.

“Do what?” He pushed himself off you, grabbing the towel you had used on him earlier and pushing your legs apart so he could gently wipe you clean. You used as much strength as you had left to bring yourself up to rest on your elbows, eyeing him.

“Drive me crazy, that’s what.” You laughed as your eyes trailed down to where San was laying earlier.

“Hey what’s that?” You pointed at the rather large spot on the comforter, San looked to where you were pointing, his eyes going wide.

“Holy shit… no fucking way.” Your jaw dropped in disbelief. “You came again? On the bed?”

“Well... yeah…” San mumbled, tossing the towel to the pile of discarded clothes.

You laughed, crawling your way across the bed to meet your boyfriend, arms wrapping around his neck as his naturally fell around your hips.

“You’re a naughty thing, you know that? Are you sure you’re a virgin?” You teased, no real malice or doubt in your voice. 

You leaned forward to kiss the tip of his nose, catching the way his lips curved into a small smile. 

“How ‘bout we run a shower and we can worry about the sheets later, hm?” San nodded at your suggestion, lowering himself to grab the back of your thighs before lifting you up. 

Your legs wrapped around his waist as he began walking to the bathroom. 

“Hey,” you spoke softly. He stopped in his tracks, moving his head to face you, waiting attentively.

“Just wanted to say I love you,” you kissed him, feeling him smile against your lips, the feeling never getting old. He pulled away from you, resting his forehead against yours.

“I love you more, pretty girl.”

-

The last time you and San had messed around was a lot farther than you both had gotten with each other, and the more that you guys explored and experimented with each other’s bodies, the more both of you found yourselves constantly looking for ways to feed each other affection.

San was aware of your sexual experience and at times when he was too lost in his head, he’d often feel insecure and wonder if the other people you’d been with were better- in any aspect really.

However, you constantly reassured him otherwise and for that he was more than thankful. Which led him to his current predicament.

You weren’t at the apartment, having had to run some errands for the day and San insisted on making time to hang out. He’d woken up too late that you’d already left to go do the things you needed to get done, so you suggested he just wait at home until you finished. Ever so quick to please, he found himself doing random chores around the place to keep himself occupied.

Today was laundry day, he dumped the basket of clothes on the bed that you had taken forever to fold (one of his little pet peeves but, still, he didn’t mind picking up the slack every now and then because he knew how busy you got.)

He hadn’t realized that the current load to switch from the laundry was your delicates (he zoned out quite a lot when he was left to his own devices), and for whatever reason he was feeling himself become more and more embarrassed as the seconds passed.

It was just panties, he didn’t know why he’d felt so shy about it. He’d seen you in your panties plenty of times, even if you were just lounging around in them. You were his partner, there was really no need to get all worked up, right?

No, there definitely was. He felt like a pervert feeling himself warm up at the thought of messing around with your intimate pieces of clothing without you here. But that feeling didn’t stop him from doing what he was about to do next. 

He kicked his shoes off, making his way to your bed and laying amongst your sheets. Flipping over on his stomach, he buried his face in your pillow letting out a soft sigh. It smelled like you, sweet and safe, mixed with the stench of clean linens. He laid like that a little longer, the feeling of sleep trying to grasp him and almost winning. It wasn't until he shifted around to lay on his back that he noticed the tent forming in between his legs.

“Jesus…” he muttered to himself, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He was definitely more in love with you then he’d thought. You were always so understanding… so willing to let him explore his sexuality comfortably. but also so independent and level-headed, you just had so many qualities to you that he absolutely loved and made him feel loved and maybe that’s why just the thought of you drove him mad and never failed to awaken something deep inside of him. His heart swelled up each time you crossed his mind and for that he knew he was truly deep in some shit. 

For fuck’s sake- he was getting hard just being in your most intimate spaces- without you even here next to him!

He closed his eyes, hands fisting the sheets lightly. He didn’t want to get off right now, at least not until you got back or something. But the idea of also getting off in your bed, while you weren’t there next to him was also kind of exciting. He laid still for a few minutes, mentally giving himself a time frame to see if his erection would go away and if it softened- then that was that; if it didn’t… well he’d cross that bridge when he got there.

And much to his surprise, it didn’t soften. Getting up from your bed, he paced around your room. He was really contemplating the idea of getting off, wondering if he should text you and ask; you know- for the sake of being polite. But that idea sounded stupid and truthfully, he couldn’t bring himself to ask, not wanting to face any judgment you might have (little to his knowledge, you found it hot that San had his little perv-y moments- but you weren’t going to tell him that). 

Amongst his pacing, his hip bumped into one of your dresser drawers that had been left slightly open amidst your morning routine.

“Ah- fuck!” San grabbed his hip, rubbing harshly to soothe the pain. He looked down at the drawer he bumped into, noticing a mixture of patterns of lace and cotton intertwining with each other. His curiosity never failed to get the best of him, he reached for the drawer, hooking his fingers around the edge and pulling it open, bracing himself.

He’d already known what to expect when he opened the drawer quite truthfully, but god did he still feel a little shameful when he felt his cock twitch in his sweats looking at your panties that laid messily folded in the drawer below him.

He reached for the contents hesitantly, his eyes catching on a pair he remembered you wearing for one of your date nights. It was a black lace piece, the pattern soft and elegant like you, he thought to himself, with a tiny little pink rose placed atop a bow. that night you’d worn them, you and San were leaving a restaurant when your shoelaces had come undone- and ever the gentleman, San had offered to tie it for you. Insisting that he didn’t want you to bend down and worry about your skirt riding up or you flashing anyone, and maybe he’d taken a quick look up your skirt when you weren’t looking (you definitely noticed) but that was a story for another day.

Once he grabbed the panties, he noticed that the lace was a lot smoother in his hands than he thought, he wondered if you’d ever bought lingerie for him- or for your other past partners. He shook the thought from his head, not wanting to think about you being with other people right now- past or not.

His mind wandered as he remembered the first time you laid in front of him, in his shirt and panties, his hot come laying on your mound as you looked completely fucked out. San’s grip tightened around your panties as he debated this dilemma internally.

“Fuck it,” he muttered to himself as he closed the drawer with his other hand and made his way to your bed. He moved around, so that his body was half sitting up and half laying down against your sheets. If he was going to do this, he wanted to at least be comfortable.

 His cock was throbbing and it was starting to be painful, that familiar wet patch seeping its way through his underwear and sweats as if welcoming him for indulging in his sinful desires.

He bunched his shirt to his chest and pulled his bottoms down to just above his knees; his cock slapping against his naval, red and shiny.

He let out a soft moan at the contact, mind turning to mush as the smell of your sheets was making him feel so… safe. He gripped himself at the base, bringing his other hand that had your panties to his nose. his hand flinched, his thoughts making him second guess himself one last time before he inhaled deeply, tightening his grip around his cock.

“Fuck,” he whined, inhaling your panties one last time before bringing it to the tip of his cock and slowly wrapping the fabric around himself. The feeling of the lace was different and for a split second his mind entertained the idea of what it’d be like to wear them while he got himself off to the thought of you, but he was too desperate now- the thought leaving his mind just as fast as it had entered his head. 

He palmed the head of his cock, the lace rubbing against his slit, while his other hand tugged at his balls.

He felt dirty, filthy… utterly sinful. But he didn’t care as he kept stroking himself as he remembered the blissful look of you coming hard on that toy you’d both picked out. The hand that was tugging himself found his way up his stomach, lightly raking his nails against the skin before sliding under his shirt and stopping at his hardened nipple.

“Baby, please,” he whined softly. It was useless to beg, you weren’t there of course but he couldn’t help himself. He pictured himself between your legs again, this time having you ride his face. Using him however you wanted, his tongue prodding against your hole as he sucked and sucked and sucked against your clit. 

He flicked his nipple before giving it a quick pinch, his hips jerking off the bed against his panty-covered hand. He moved his hand free from his chest, bringing it down to his cock so both of his hands were wrapped around his shaft. Your panties covered his tip completely as he began to rut his hips upwards, both hands moving along with his hips.

He was close, so fucking close and it was all happening to quick.

“Fuck,” San groaned, “fuckfuckfuck,” his hips moved faster as his imagination kept going on and on with different scenarios of how he wanted to ravish you. Images of him fucking you in every position you could imagine, ran through his head. 

But the one that sent him over the edge was you on top, riding him dangerously slow, playing with your tits. In his head, you’d reached down and grabbed his chin, asking him so sweetly to look at you and open his mouth- and he did. you’d lean over him, letting go of his chin before making him stick his tongue out and grabbing the tip of it with your fingers and holding it firmly, leaning down and whispering obscene things to him- about him.

How he was so good for you, letting you fuck him dumb and never even imagining that he’d let you take control of him like this.

“Oh my fucking god I’m gonna come, please, oh my god,” San whined. “Wanna be good for you, so fucking good baby, please, feels so fucking good.” 

His hips stuttered as his eyes closed shut, a deep moan coming from his chest. He opened his eyes enough to look down, he felt like he couldn’t stop coming, his come seeping through your panties and sliding down his fisted hands.

For his own, twisted pleasure, he continued to stroke himself. Swiping at some of his come and bringing it to his slit, running his index finger back and forth. His body shivered, he wondered to himself if he could come again- Maybe if he really tried, but he knew as long as you ran through his head, anything was possible.

However, he was snapped out of his post-orgasm daze when his phone began to ring. He searched the bed looking for the sound, finally grabbing his phone and seeing your name flash against the screen. His heart pounded against his chest as he hit the green button.

“Hey, babe, what’s up?” He cleared his throat in hopes of not sounding too… off.

“Hey, was just calling ‘cause you weren’t answering my texts- just wanted to make sure you were good.” 

You mumbled something after that he couldn’t make out, hearing a faint honking noise in the background. 

“Anyways, I'm on my way back to the apartment, but wanted to see if you needed me to stop and get anything? You hungry?”

“No, I'm okay, just drive safe. I miss you.”

You laughed.

“I miss you, too, baby. You okay, though? You sound kinda off?”

“No- yeah, yeah I’m fine! Was just dozing off waiting for you, s’all.”

“Mhm… right.” 

Your voice dragged, not entirely convinced. 

“Okay, well, I’m not that far so I'll see you in a sec. Love you!”

“I love you more,” and with that you both hung up.

San set his phone down, laying his head back against your pillows as he looked up at the ceiling. He felt himself soften in his hands, the lace of the panties laying across more of his lower half. He entertained the thought more adequately this time, wondering what it’d be like to wear something like this, how would he look if you fucked him stupid while he wore-

“What the fuck?” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head as if to rid himself physically from the thought. He got up, looking for something to clean himself with as he tried to figure out where to put your now-stained panties.

Once that was decided, he laid back in your bed. Shuffling under the covers and recapping everything that had happened within the last hour. He shut his eyes briefly and on cue, the door beeped, signaling you had just gotten home.

He laughed to himself both in disbelief and embarrassment, you were really making him question everything. But for some reason, he didn’t mind as long as it was you.

-

It had been a few days after you had run your errands and had come back home to San lying around (quite suspiciously might you add) in your bed.

You didn't want to press him on it, but that didn’t keep you from having your own suspicions. Letting whatever it was that he was hiding, to let it be. Which you figured it couldn't have been that bad to begin with regardless, just that he had maybe been a bit... mischievous.

But it was the thought of him being alone in your room for that long, and knowing him, he intentionally or unintentionally snooped around.

Today was a laundry day though, you had grabbed your hamper and dumped the clothes on your floor so you could separate the delicates and the colors.

Amidst your separating, you noticed the black lace pair you'd worn ages ago, on one of the first dates that you and San had gone on.

You guys were walking back to the car when he had stopped you, letting you know your shoelace had come undone. Just as you were about to bend down and tie your shoe, he stopped you, insisting you shouldn't because you were wearing a skirt and he didn't want you to be uncomfortable. As he fell to his knees, you shifted your legs slightly, moving one foot out so he could tie your shoe easier. In doing so, your skirt raised, allowing your underwear to be seen. San's head turned, taking a quick peek and trying to memorize the lace pattern that was laying across your skin. You definitely noticed, turning your head away and smiling to yourself.

You reached for the pair, wondering to yourself when it was that you had worn them, dropping them once you realized that the pair had faint, white residue. Your eyebrows furrowed as you thought of all possibilities as to why your underwear would have dry cum on them.

Did... San...? You wondered, before thinking of ways in which you should ask him about it, or even if you wanted to. You decided to leave it be for now, ready to be over with your daily chores for the day.

-

[new notifications]

y/n: babe~

y/n: r u ready

y/n: im abt to be there in 5 :] 

San's phone buzzed from his shelf as he finished gathering up the rest of his items for your guy's trip. It was your first trip together, and he wasn't too sure about you, but he was definitely excited because this was finally going to be it. 

You had both talked about finally going all the way together, and San insisted at least creating a little world away from the craziness of your everyday lives so he could fully enjoy you. You thought it was sweet and honestly, he was the only boyfriend you had who was so adamant on constantly trying to create the perfect atmosphere to show his deep love for you, and it made your heart swell every single time.

His phone buzzed again, he glanced down at his watch, seeing a new message from you saying you were here. He walked over to the shelf where his phone was, grabbing it along with his weekend bag and heading out.

You waited patiently in the car, your thumbs tapping against the steering wheel to the rhythm of the music playing in the background. You snapped out of your mindless daze when you felt a knock against the window, you turned your head, meeting San's eyes as he pointed to the back of your car, signaling you to open the trunk.

Moments later he was sliding in the passenger seat next to you, leaning over the console and placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Hi baby," he said as he leaned back and hastened his seat belt over his chest, securing it in the buckle.

You smiled, "Hi, how'd you sleep?"

"Good, I think," he reached for your hand as you put the car in drive, listening idly to where the GPS was telling you to go. "Missed you, was excited all night for this trip," he brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss.

You hummed, "You're awfully affectionate today, you really missed me that much, huh?"

San let out a light laugh, "I miss you everyday."

A comfortable silence shortly fell between the both of you as you continued to drive.

-

You pulled up to the Airbnb, which San had reserved for the holiday weekend. Calm waves hit the shore, and the sound of birds chirping echoed softly in the distance.

You put the car in park, nudging San slightly to get his attention.

"Look," you nodded your head in front of you. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Wow," San leaned forward in his seat, his mouth open in awe. "It is... can't believe we get to spend the holiday here."

"C'mon, let's go check it out," you smiled before stepping out of the car.

You made your way to the house, San following behind. You opened the door, taking note of the spacious interior.

You felt San's arms wrap around you, him leaning down and placing soft kisses along your cheek before making his way up to your ear.

"All this space just for us, hm," he poked his tongue out, laying a soft lick against your lobe. "Wanna take you on every. Single. Surface."

You leaned back against him, your eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of him being so close.

"Yeah yeah, you can after we get settled in," you hummed, pushing yourself off him and making your way further into the house. You set your keys on the counter, taking one last look at the Airbnb before turning back to San and making your way to the door. As you were about to pass him, your hands tapped at his chest before pulling him with you.

"C'mon, you nasty boy, let's unload the car," You said, a light laugh from San following shortly after.

-

You stepped out the restroom, your robe hanging carelessly around your body as you tried drying off your hair as best as you could.

"Babe, I still don't know why we can't just shower together," San grumbled from the bed.

"'Cause," you mumbled, making your way to your suitcase. "I still get shy."

You rummaged through your clothes, looking for some undergarments and a lounge shirt. Quickly slipping them on, your eyes caught a peek at that specific pair you brought with you. You turned around to quickly glance at San, seeing that he was sprawled on the bed, shirtless and in sweats. His arms were crossed over his face as he mindlessly sung to himself. You reached down for the pair, finally turning around and tossing them onto San's chest.

His body gently flinched at the contact in surprise, before he moved his arms down and looked at what was laying on his chest. His body froze.

"Y'know I'd been meaning to ask you if those looked familiar," You said as you walked over to the bed, climbing your way up to seat yourself in San's lap. He looked up at you, his ears and face turning flush as he hummed in response.

"I was doing my laundry before the trip and well," You reached for the underwear before dragging it across his stomach. "I like to separate my delicates and colors and such... and I couldn't help but notice those were dirty."

"I also couldn't remember the last time I had worn them, at least recently. Do you know what they were dirty with, San?" 

He looked up at you briefly, his cheeks flushed and eyes full of guilt. Despite that, you felt him growing hard underneath you. you didn't give him a chance to answer before leaning down next to his ear and whispering, "They were dirty with someone's cum, baby... can you believe it?"

He let out a soft groan, his hands reaching for your waist before making their way down to your ass and gently groping you.

"Fine, fine. I'm guilty, you got me." His eyes squeezed shut as he gripped your ass more rough, before rolling his hips up into you.

You gasped, your chest pressing flush against San. "I wasn't expecting you to admit it so fast."

"Yeah, I know. I'm embarrassed, but right now I don't care. Just want you to touch me," His hands removed themselves from your ass before bringing them up to the back of your neck and pulling you into a kiss.

The kiss was slow and lazy, your hands making their way to lay gently on top of San's chest.

"Mm, babe," your voice muffled against San's lips, he hummed, pressing his lips harder and grabbing your ass tighter. You managed to pull away, pressing your forehead against his, opening your eyes slightly to see his eyes still shut.

"San," you whispered, pulling away completely to look down at him from being seated in his lap. You took note of the way his body stayed flush, the light sheen of sweat glistening in the dim light, his pink swollen lips, to the way his sweats were snug around his hard cock. 

"Why don't you..." Your hands slowly moved around his chest, the tips of your fingers grazing his skin like a feather, before stopping at the buds of his nipples. "Why don't you show me how you made a mess on my panties in the first place, huh?" Your fingers moved on their own, lightly pinching the buds between them and giving them a soft tug, testing the waters.

San moaned, his shoulders squirming against the mattress, "S-show you? Yeah, yeah I can do that, j-just lemme- ah," He opened his eyes to look up at you, the glossy look he had during moments like this never failing to make you weak. He lightly tapped your ass, signaling you to get off him, in which you complied. You shuffled along the bed until your back was leaning against the headboard, your shirt scrunched to your waist leaving the top of your thighs exposed. San moved next to you, moving himself around the bed until he managed to squirm his way to lay between your legs, his back pressed against your stomach and his head resting against your shoulder.

"You..." San's hands found their way to lay on the sides of your thighs, gently squeezing. "You said to show you, so I just thought... that maybe this would be... the best view I could give you." San's voice barely above a whisper, his head turning to look up at you. You nodded, looking back at him, leaning in to give him a quick kiss, your legs bending to place your feet on his waistband, doing your best attempt at trying to slide his sweats down.

His hands wrapped your ankles, leaning forward and giving each one a swift kiss before gently placing them on either side of his hips and laying back against you. He shimmied his way out his sweats before kicking them to the edge of the bed, his naked body on full display before you.

"It feels nicer like this," San said, his voice having a gravel edge to it. "When I was in your bed, I didn't have the luxury to be naked like I am now.." his cock looked angry laying against his stomach, beads of pre-cum smearing against the tight skin of his lower stomach. You stared in awe, before looking briefly at San's face, his hair falling into his eyes. You reached a hand to lay in his hair, swiping the hair upwards and running your nails gently back and forth against his scalp. San sighed, his cock jolting against his stomach, his head following the caresses of your hand.

"Y/n... you know," San’s hands clenched repeatedly against his sides before reaching down to wrap around his length. “There was so much that I was thinking about when I was laying in your bed.”

His hands massaged his length slowly, occasionally reaching down to tug at his balls before continuing his ministrations on himself.

You felt the wetness growing between your legs, your eyes skimming every part of his body displayed before you. the sheen of sweat forming at the base of his neck and trailing down the wide expanse of his chest. Your hands moved to his shoulders, gently caressing down his arms.

You hummed waiting for him to continue, shifting your hips as best as you could in your current position.

“You were on top, riding my face, and I was letting you do whatever you wanted to me, it just- ah- felt so good... knowing you were so good- feelin’ so good and-” San let out a loud moan, throwing his head back against your shoulder, eyes screwed shut. his hands tugged harder at his length, his thumb playing at the sensitive slit.

“What else, hm?” Your hands made their way to his nipples, testing the waters again and gently grazing against the hardened buds.

San's body caved in on itself at the sudden contact, rushing to tell you to wait.

“You okay?” You managed to get out, feeling your chest squeeze.

“Sorry, yes yes, I’m okay, it’s just.. if you keep doing that I’ll come too soon.”

"Here, lemme get up." 

San moved forward to let you move from behind him. 

"Lay back." 

His hand released his cock as he shifted around before finally grabbing a pillow and resting it behind his head. You shuffled to sit on top of him, not fully planting all your body weight down. San's breath hitched. Your hands reached for the knot of your robe, slowly untying it to reveal yourself before San and letting it fall down the expanse of your shoulders and back. 

San's eyes focused on every part of you, the way your nipples were perked from being aroused and the slight cool air that was slowly turning hot. The way your soft flesh was flushed, the way your thighs looked caging his frame at his hips. But his eyes really caught focus on the way your pussy was beginning to drip with wetness onto his cock. "Is this okay?" You quietly asked, leaning forward to rest your hands on either side of his head. 

"Perfect, you're perfect. It's perfect. C'mere." San reached around the best he could to pull you down to meet his lips by the back of your neck. His hands resting on either side of your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks as your tongues swirled around each other. You felt yourself relaxing, your chest pressed against his and finally seating yourself on top of his cock. San moaned, his hips bucking up quickly, the tip of his cock briefly rubbing against your bundle of nerves. You pulled away from his lips, meeting his eyes before resting your forehead on his. 

"Did you want to... you know," Your voice trailed off in a whisper. 

"Please, yes. Yes, did you-" 

"We can stay like this if that's okay with you, I really don't mind." 

"That's okay," San gulped. Suddenly feeling his nerves spike. He wasn't worried about anything other than cumming quickly. Which would be as expected, considering his circumstances. But he had some hope that he could last at least enough time to help you reach your climax. Regardless, he trusted you.

You pushed yourself up, suddenly feeling anxious. You reached down to grab at the base San's cock, lining it up with your entrance. You could feel San's eyes staring at where his cock and your pussy were able to meet. He felt heavy in your hands, each throb a reflection of his unwavering desire for you. You lowered yourself on him, your essence making it easier for you to slide down. It had obviously been a while since you had actual sex, and pleasuring yourself did not compare to the feeling of having the man you loved inside you. The tip of his cock had pushed through, you felt yourself clench around the intrusion. You and San let out a moan in unison. 

"Why- Why do I feel like I'm gonna come?" San said in a strained voice as his hands fisted the sheets, stomach tensing beneath you. 

"Just- Wait-" You breathed out, letting all your weight down on San's cock. The feeling of him stuffed fully inside of you made you feel dizzy nonetheless. San let out a long whine, he pushed himself up from the mattress to meet your body, pulling you in a tight hug. 

"I love you so much, so so much. You don't even understand." San grumbled into the crook of your neck, placing kisses along the spot where your ear and neck met. You let out a needy whine, reaching your arms around his back to embrace him as well. You moved your hips as best as you could given the current position, grinding in small circles. San pulled away, one of his hands reaching to grope at your chest. 

He leaned down, kissing along the valley of your chest that led down to your nipple. His mouth closed around the perked bud, his tongue swirling around delicately. You let out a moan, your hands reaching up to take hold of his hair, nails gently scraping against his scalp before gently tugging at the roots.

San's hands reached around you again, his nails softly scratching down against the expanse of your back before finding purchase on your ass. He gripped the flesh with firmness, pulling you down as he tried to buck up into you. The tip of his cock grazed the cervix ever so slightly, causing you to let out a sharp whine. 

"Sannie, baby, do that- do that again." That was the first time San heard you call him that. It triggered something in him, but he couldn't quite explain it. He brought your hips down again as he bucked up into you, leaning forward and clumsily capturing your lips in a kiss. 

His cock twitched inside you, it didn't take much to know that he was close. You were honestly surprised that he had held out this long but then again you two had fooled around before this so how surprising could it really have been. You pulled away from his lips, leaning in for one last peck before moving your hips with more fervor. 

"C'mon baby, I know you're close. It's okay, you can let it out."

If you had to ask San to relive one moment from his life again before he died, he'd think he'd confidently say that it'd be this moment. He actually might be dramatic, it would probably be an entirely different moment, but his mental, his senses, his heart, was so consumed with the thought of you that he was sure that if he died right now, he’d die a happy man.

There was something about the way that you always softly demanded him or guided him during these intimate moments- there was a gentleness mixed with a sternness in your demeanor that drove him insane.

He gave one last buck of his hips, the plushness of your ass jiggling slightly against his hands before he felt the tension that was in his balls release.

San held you close, his head falling on your shoulder and leaning into the crook of your neck. The loud groan being the only thing that you could hear, you felt your body shudder at the feeling of hot ropes of cum painting your gummy walls. You sat there on the bed in each other’s embrace for what felt like an eternity, San was the first to say something.

“Baby.”

You hummed, your hands rubbing up and down his back, your fingertips grazing his skin with the softest caress you could muster.

“Can I eat you out?”

“What?” You pulled away to look San in the eyes, only to find him avoiding your gaze.

“I’m serious, I know you didn’t get to… finish and I don’t really care that you know…”

You shook your head, moving to get off him to lay down. The feeling of his cock instantly slipping out of you having your pussy clench. You were stuffed full of him seed, not realizing how much he’d actually came until it began to dribble down the insides of your thighs.

You settled on your back, eyes shut from shyness.

“Fuck,” You heard San whisper as he turned his body to get a better view at you. His hands grabbed at your knees pushing them forward to your chest.

“Hold them for me.”

“No way…”

“What?”

“I still can’t believe you’re this nasty, San. Are you sure you haven’t been jukin’ me this whole time?” You let out a breathy laugh, your pussy clenching again as San’s hands massaged the back of your thighs before dragging them closer to your pussy.

He laughed with you, his pointer fingers spreading your lips open. You couldn’t help but moan, feeling his seed dribble down. 

“Say you want it,” San said, pausing his movements.

“What?”

“Say you want it- tell me how bad you want it,” San’s eyes stayed focused on the way you kept clenching around nothing.

This was definitely new, San never feigned feeling some type of way about always falling into a more submissive role during your previous intimate times together. You could confidently say this was a type of reassurance he wanted. You felt yourself gulp, eyes screwing shut once again.

“Want it…” You mumbled. Before you even had the chance to repeat yourself louder, you felt a sharp sting on your inner thigh which ignited a surprised yelp from you. You hadn’t expected the palm of his hand to meet so harshly with your skin.

“Sorry I-”

“It’s okay, San. I promise it’s okay- God, please do that again, want it so bad. Want you so fucking bad, please. Just fucking do something.”

San couldn’t understand what he was feeling, seeing your fucked out face, squirming and moaning for him to touch you. It was always him that was left to this role, and don’t get him wrong- he definitely enjoyed it. You made him feel safe and comforted, but prior to this trip when he had wondered about your previous partners and finally losing his virginity to you… he really couldn’t help but wonder how he could make you feel that same safe feeling during sex that you never failed to make him feel.

He wanted you to crave him the same way he craved you.

He quickly maneuvered himself to be eye level with your core and wasted no time in wrapping his lips around you. His tongue poked and prodded at your hole, tasting himself on his lips. He pressed his palms down into your thighs trying to spread you out the best he could as he continued to suck and lick at your most sensitive parts.

“Wait, oh fuck- Don’t stop.” You threw your head back into the mattress, you could feel your clit throbbing as you tried bucking your hips up into San’s mouth.

“Right there, you’re doing so good, baby. Right there- fuck-”

San felt his chest grow in pride, continuing to lick and prod at your clit. His tongue swirled around the overstimulated bud, he could feel your legs switching between relaxed and tensed. He pressed his tongue flat against your core, letting you grind against his face. He was determined to make you cum without his fingers.

“Oh my god- I’m gonna- Shit, I’m coming baby, I’m coming, ooh my god,” You let out a long whine, trying to shut your legs around San’s head but with no prevail. 

It happened suddenly, your orgasm crashing down and in a blink of an eye you felt one of your things being pressed open while you felt fingers enter you.

“Wha-”

“Gimme one last one, I know you can.”

Somehow San had moved to be parallel from your laying body, hovering above you as best as he could while his fingers drilled into you tight cunt.

His eyes focused on your face, the way you struggled to keep your eyes open and your eyebrows were pursed forward. There was no real rhythm to his fingers, part of him had only vaguely remembered how people fingered each other in videos. And even he knew those weren’t good examples to go off of.

“Come on, baby. I know you can cum for me one more time.”

Your mouth fell open in a silent moan, and suddenly all you could feel was San in every one of your senses. His smell, his body heat, his presence, his gaze on you… he was clouding every bit of your mental. The knot if your stomach was ready to snap, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to try and tell San that he was hitting that sweet spot. Could he even tell? You didn’t think so, but you could tell this orgasm was going to be different from all your prev-

“Look at you, holy fuck-” San began rubbing your clit quickly. “Baby, you’re fucking squirting for me.”

Your ears were ringing, and truthfully you could barely hear what San was saying. Your mind was entirely clouded, and you didn’t even have the strength to respond. Your body shuddered, and all you could muster up was weakly wrapping your arms around San and pulling him down on top of you.

“Hey, you okay?” San’s voice never failed to show his concern as he tried turning in your grasp to get a look at you.

You weakly hummed in response before speaking, trying to wrap your arms more comfortably around him.

“Feels like… feels like I’m on a cloud. Don’t want you to leave me, feels good. Here- Feels good you’re here. With me.” You rambled, fighting to keep your eyes open.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby.” San whispered, softly kissing the first piece of skin his lips could reach. He moved one of his hands to rest at your side, caressing his thumb back and forth lightly.

“Was it too much? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” San mumbled into your skin.

“Shh.” San looked up at your face expectantly.

“I like this side of you, too, it was perfect, Sannie.”

He smiled, leaning back down to give you a swift kiss.

“You did good for me, by the way. And of course, always an overachiever…” There was a tilt to San’s voice as he spoke.

“Me? That’s definitely you, I was fine with not finishing after you came.”

“Oh really? Well, I wasn’t,” he playfully retorted.

“And this is why you’re mine, because you treat me so well,” you smiled, eyes still shut.

“And on that note, lemme get you cleaned up.”

“I don’t wanna take another shower right now, can we at least nap for a little before we do? I genuinely can’t feel my legs, I think.” 

“Fine, but I’m setting a timer for an hour. At least go pee.” San got up, his bare body facing away from you as he reached into one of his bags that was placed on one of the chairs in the corner of them. He walked back towards you, opening a package of wipes, gently wiping at the insides of your thighs as best as he could. He reached down to grab hold of your hand, tugging slightly to pull you up.

“An hour…” you echoed with a slight pout, looking back at San.

“Two at most.” You felt a content smile creeping on your face.

“Hold on, I’m gonna carry you, m’kay?” He reached hold of your back, lifting you so you could wrap your legs around his torso as he walked to the bathroom.

He placed you on the tile floor, stepping away and shutting the door behind him.

“I’m gonna strip the bed sheets, we might have to run into town to grab some detergent to wash… Lemme know when you’re about to come out though so I can grab your robe.” San’s head peaked through the door, giving you one last smile.

“Thank you.”

And with that he closed the door behind him.

-

You woke up to the alarm San had set going off and feeling insanely hot, your robe was exposing your naked body underneath and your legs were tangled with San’s.

In fact, most of his body was practically smothering yours and though you loved him dearly, you needed him to get off of you to cool down.  

You did your best to wiggle yourself free, but to no avail, San’s arms stayed holding you tightly.

“Why you trynna run away from me, huh?” San grumbled against your hair.

“I’m not running away, you’re literally a furnace.”

You tried kicking the blankets off with the little leg strength you had. San threw his leg over yours, pulling you as close as possible. Both of you fell into a fit of laughter, trying to squirm for freedom.

“San, let. Me. Go.” You laughed, pushing your body weight against him to free yourself from his hold.

“Never.”

“Please.”

“Nope.”

“You said we would only take a nap for two hours and then rinse off.”

“I know what I said.”

You laughed, eyebrows raised at his sudden sassiness.

“So since you know, let’s get up. You wanna run into town later, right?”

San hummed, his hand coming up from holding you to push your robe further off your back. His lips began softly kissing at your hot skin.

“Lemme have you one more time before we shower.” He grumbled, his lips now puckering to suck love bites against your shoulder. His hips pressed forward and you felt his cock begin to get hard against your lower back just above the swell of your ass.

“Seriously.” You moaned in disbelief, pushing your hips back to meet his. His teeth nipped at your skin, not hard enough to cause you any pain but enough to feel yourself getting aroused.

“I’ll make it quick, I promise.”

“Fine.” You huffed out, letting yourself relax your body into San’s, letting him touch you however he pleased.

San was right, he made it quick. He had his way with you while you guys spooned, thrusting his hips shallowly against your ass as he hit all your sweet spots. This vacation was definitely going to have both of you spent, and with San’s new found stamina, you were unsure if you were really going to be able to keep up.

-

It wasn’t long until you guys finally found the courage to get up and rinse off, deciding to finally make your way into town and grab a few things from the grocers.

“You said we needed detergent, yeah?” You said, pushing the cart down the aisle as San focused on items on the shelf.

“Yeah, detergent and then whatever snacks you want.”

“Snacks… okay, you want me to meet you in the frozen section?”

“That’s fine. I’mma grab some fruits and other stuff then head that way.”

You hummed, making your way to the other side of the store to select your items.

Five minutes, maybe ten at most, had passed until San finally made his way back to meet up with you. Reaching the cart, he dumped his items in.

“Ready?”

“Yeah let’s-” You stopped, eyes falling on two bottles of lube that San had thrown in with the rest of his items that consisted of sugary snacks and fruit.

“What?” He paused, waiting for you to finish. His eyes trailed down to what you were looking out before continuing, “Look you can never have too much, okay? Also, I made a promise when we first got here.”

And with that, San walked his way to the front of the store where the registers were, turning around briefly to motion you to follow before walking again.

-

When you guys had gotten back from the store, you both decided to put in a frozen pizza in the oven and ate quickly, finding refuge on the couch shortly after to relax. You guys had the bed sheets in the washer, currently laid up on the couch. The television played some movie that San had decided on, something about volleyball, you weren’t tracking too much to be quite frank.

You laid on top of San, feeling his heartbeat pound against your ear. His hands gently scratched against your back, as if he were to press any harder you’d break.

“Y/N?” San softly spoke, his hands stopping in place.

“Hmm..” Your eyes fought to stay open, exhaustion and content consuming your body after the day’s events.

“Everything was okay, yeah?” San’s voice trailed off, almost as if he felt embarrassed to even ask you. You knew what he was implying. You lifted your head to look him in the eyes.

“It was perfect. I’m glad you trust me, San. Seriously. And I’m so glad you let me love you the way you needed and let me show you how much I love you.”

San’s lips fell into a soft pout, he felt a lump in his throat. He didn’t say anything, instead he pulled you down for a tender kiss. It was sweet, there was no sexual intentions behind this one, just pure unadulterated love from the both of you.

“I love you, like a lot. Like for eternity, even.” San said as he pulled away from the kiss, smiling up at you.

“I love you for eternity, too.” You smiled back, giving him one last peck before laying your head back on his chest and succumbing to the sleepiness that slowly invaded your mind.

And the rest of your time on your vacation get-a-way was spent like that. Spending time with another, sharing affectionate moments and sweet words. San was true to his word, he took you on every surface in that house that he could defile you on. The kitchen counters, the table, the couch, the shower, even the stairs. He’d gone through a bottle and a half of lube since he had purchased it that first day there and you were more than sure the way he was fucking you, in all these different positions and with his stamina in mind, he was surely going to end up putting a baby in you.

One thing you had begun to realize about San though- well, a few things- was how he loved coming inside you and watching you push it out. As if he couldn’t wrap his head around that all of that seed was really his. Also that he really liked making you squirt- it wasn’t something you’d known before that you were capable of doing, so to have a guy who had very little sexual experience, make you do that, was truly mind-boggling.

After your vacation, you noticed your energy shift between each other for the better. San had passed his horny phase, and overall had just enjoyed being romantically intimate just as much as he enjoyed being sexually intimate. Not that he hadn’t been that way before, but it definitely felt more comfortable to express those sides of him naturally. You both brought out new sides of each other and to be able to express that so comfortably and safely was more than perfect.

Time had passed and yet another school year had finally come to an end, summer was approaching quickly.

“You heading back home for the summer?” San asked as you guys strolled along the trail that went through the campus park. His hands played with the ends of your hair as you walked, his eyes looking at you expectantly.

“Hmm, I thought about it, my lease ends right before summer starts so it at least gives me time to really think but, honestly I don’t wanna…”

“Come with me.”

“What?” You stopped walking, turning to look at San.

“I mean come with me for the summer. I’m going back home and we have a spare room if anything since my sister doesn’t live at the house anymore…” His voice trailed off as his hands removed themself from your hair, bringing them forward and stuffing them in his pockets.

“Well… I mean, are your parents okay with-”

“I already asked them… last month. And again last week, I didn’t tell them it was for sure though because I wasn’t sure how to bring it up to you but if you do decide to come, they’re okay with it and they’re super excited to meet you. No pressure though.” San chewed on his lower lip, avoiding your eyes.

You grabbed his wrists, taking his hands out of his pockets and bringing his hands to your lips, giving each one a soft kiss. Your eyes met his, and you found him looking back at you fondly with a faint blush creeping on his cheeks. He was trying hard to fight the smile that so desperately wanted to be on display for you and only you.

“Well, then. I would love to spend the summer with you and your family.” You pulled him forward to kiss his lips quickly, before pulling away and leading him down the trail of the park.

This upcoming summer was definitely going to be one to remember, and you were more than excited to spend it with the one you loved most.

[onlyfezco]

Forget Me Not - Fezco

Summary: Fez forgets your date Friday night and he spends the weekend trying to get back on your good side

Fezco x Reader

Word count: 2,247

Author’s Note: This just started because I thought about blasting music that fit my mood when I was mad and the other person realizing I was mad based off the lyrics lol. Comments and reblogs are appreciated. The divider is from @firefly-graphics​

It had been a long night. Fez got word about a party happening last minute and him and Ash needed to go to lessen the load of Mouse’s latest supply. Before the party, Fez had been at the store for most of the day. He was ready to count up the money from tonight and go straight to bed.

“You’re in trouble,” Fez heard Ash say from the living room. He finished locking the door then made his way towards his brother.

“What I do,” Fez asked, then his eyes followed Ash’s to the couch where you lay sleeping. 

“Oh shit,” Fez said, rubbing his hand over his shaved head. Normally, this wouldn’t be Fez’s reaction to seeing his girlfriend. Especially, after a super long day. But it was your nice black dress and perfectly done hair that reminded Fez he forgot about your date. 

“Yeah, shit,” Ash chuckled dropping his backpack on the kitchen table. “She’s gonna be pissed.”

“I forgot she was stayin’ over this weekend. Her roommate’s army boyfriend was comin’ home for the weekend and she ain’t want to stay around for them reunitin’ for three days straight.”

“So she’s gonna be mad at you all weekend here? That’s hilarious,” Ash said with a silent laugh so he wouldn’t wake you.

“Man, shut the fuck up,” Fez whispered to his brother. By no means was any of this funny. 

“I’mma let you deal with that. I’m goin’ to my room.”

Once Ash was gone, Fez squatted down so he was on eyelevel with you. “Ma,” he said softly. “Ma, wake up.” You stirred a little but your eyes were still closed. “Come on, let’s get you in bed,” Fez said gently shaking you now.

Your eyes opened briefly, then closed again. “I’m fine here,” you replied flatly, then rolled over so your back was to Fezco now. 

Fez sighed. “Come on, baby. I’m sorry. I heard about a party the other day, and you know I got this extra supply to get rid of this month.”

“So not only did you go to a party without me, you didn’t call to let me know you’d be home late either? Nice to know I’m so forgettable.” You readjusted on the couch then pulled the blanket down to cover yourself up. After about an hour of Fez not showing up and not hearing anything from him, you took your makeup off and got comfortable on the couch. 

You knew you were being a bit childish. You could have easily called Fez to see where he was at, or remind him of your plans. But you had been texting him for most of the day anyway. It hurt that even though you should have been on his mind already, he still forgot about your date and you coming over. 

“You’re not. I know you’re mad, but at least sleep in my bed tonight.”

“No thank you.”

Fez sighed again frustrated with how stubborn you were. “You don’t have to sleep with me. I’ll take the couch.”

“No. Thank you,” you repeated more sternly this time. 

Fez just stayed there for a moment staring at your back hoping you’d give in and go to his bed. But you were stubborn and didn’t budge an inch. Fez stood up then walked to the kitchen table to put the money him and ash made tonight up somewhere safe. He wasn’t in the mood to sit there and count the profits right now. He’d worry about that tomorrow. He began making his way to his room, but glanced at the couch before he went down the hall to see if you changed your mind. You didn’t. He sighed then made the trek to his bedroom alone for the night. 

Well I'm not gon' cry

I'm not gon' cry

I'm not gon' shed no tears

Fezco practically shot up out of his bed at the loud music. He looked around the room and realized it was morning from the faint light pouring in from behind his curtains. He shook his head then got out of bed to see where the noise was coming from.

Ash was sitting at the kitchen table watching some Youtube video with his headphones in while shoveling pancakes and eggs into his mouth. He walked into the kitchen to see you flipping a pancake over as you sang to the Mary J. Blige song. You were obviously still upset. He knew you would occasionally play some 90′s R&B while you cooked, but playing Mary this loud was a sign you were mad.

“Morning, ma,” Fez said testing the waters with you. Normally when he’d catch you cooking in his kitchen, he would come up behind you and kiss your neck. But he didn’t want to make the mistake of touching you and making your madder right now. He didn’t think he could handle you pushing him away. 

Fez was met with silence as you grabbed a plate with some eggs already on it and placed the pancake down. “Come on, Y/N. I said I was sorry.” 

You still ignored him, putting the skillet into the sink then walking over to the table to sit down. You grabbed the syrup that was next to Ash and poured it over your pancakes. Fez looked around the kitchen and saw that there was no food for him. He sighed, his shoulders slumping. He grabbed a bowl from the cabinet and poured himself some cereal. Usually, he would sit next to you at the table, but he sat from across from you instead.

Ash looked up from his phone and eyed the both of you. He was sitting in the middle of you two and could feel the animosity.

The Mary song faded out, but another angsty one was up next. 

Baby Let Me Explain To You I'm Sayin

What You Sayin

It's Not Even Like That

It Wasn't Like That But I Saw You

Your eyes glanced up at Fez across the table from you but his eyes were already on you. Your eyes became angry as you glared at him then went back to your plate. Fez just sighed. Ash rushed to finish his food so he could hurry up and leave before things got more tense. 

It was almost noon now, so it was time for Marie’s bath. On weekend’s when you came over, you volunteered to help Fez with his grandma. You always called it girl time and you weren’t going to let your anger at her grandson stop that.

“You won’t believe what your grandson did now,” you spoke to the old woman. Just because she was bedridden and couldn’t speak, didn’t mean you couldn’t keep her updated on what was going on.

“He forgot that I was coming over,” you said as you moved the warm towel up and down her arm. “And on top of that, he went to a party. Without me!” 

As usual, you were met with silence. Fezco spoke so highly of his grandma when he first told you about her. Kitty was a badass. You hoped she would have liked you. Fez always said she would have loved you. 

“I know Mouse’s punk ass dumped more product on him than usual, but if Fez would have told me he was going, I wouldn’t have mind.” 

It was quiet for a moment. Just the sound of you dumping the towel back in the water then ringing it out. 

“I know this is mostly my issue of being forgotten and I’m making a big deal out it, but it hurts.”

You were so busy in your own head and giving Marie her bath that you didn’t hear Fez’s footsteps coming down the hall. He was at his grandmother’s door listening to everything you said. He was so upset with himself over the situation. There you were, giving his bedridden grandmother a sponge bath after he made you angry. Most people would have said screw it and not done anything for Fez. But that morning you made his brother breakfast and now this. God, he loved you. He had to find a way to make it up to you. 

After you were done with Marie, Ash convinced you to drive him to the mall so he could get some new shoes. You decided to make an afternoon of it since you weren’t planning on doing anything with Fez today. The two of you went to the movies after he bought his shoes. You paid for the tickets and he paid for the snacks. You told him he didn’t have to buy the snacks since you’re the one who decided to see a movie, but Ash insisted. Sometimes he would go to the movies with you and Fez, so he was just doing what he always saw. Fez would buy the tickets, and you would buy the snacks... well, sneak them in your purse. It was cute that Ash did that. You kissed him on the head and he wiped it off.

By the time you made it back to the O’Neil house, it was around 6. Ash asked you to drop him off at his friend’s place and said he would call you when he was ready to go. You were happy Ash was doing some normal child things, but you were bummed because that meant it would just be you and Fez. You started to think you should just forgive him. No point in holding out a grudge this pointless for too long. 

You used your key to get in and walked down the hall to drop your shopping bag by the couch, but the dim lighting and candles through you off. Cautiously, you looked around. It was way too quiet. 

You heard soft footsteps coming down the hall then turned to see your boyfriend in dress pants and a button down shirt holding your favorite flowers. 

“Hey,” Fez said softly.

“Hey,” you replied back just as soft. 

He walked closer to you then handed you the bouquet. “I got you these.”

You glanced down at the flowers then into Fez’s eyes as you reached out to grab the bouquet. Fez saw the small smile on your face and took that as a good sign. 

“I’m sorry, ma. I didn’t mean to forget our date or you comin’ over. It slipped my mind, but it ain’t gonna happen again.”

“I know, Fez. And I’m sorry, too,” you said, a hint of sadness in your voice.

Fez’s face scrunched up in confusion. “What you sorry fo’?”

You shook your head. “For ignoring you. For getting that mad at something so small.”

Fez walked closer to you shaking his head, grabbing your free hand. “Nah, you had a right to be mad. It was important to you that I remembered our date, and I didn’t. I don’t wanna ever make you feel bad and that’s what I did.”

Your hand tightened around Fez’s. Your eyes glanced around before they landed on Fez’s piercing eyes. “I just... I have issues with being forgotten about.” Fez slowly stepped in closer to you and you automatically leaned into him. He grabbed the flowers from your hand, placing them on the table so he could grab your other hand as well. You laid your head on his chest.

“You don’t have to worry about that with me, ma,” Fez said reassuringly, making you nuzzle in closer to him. “You, Ash, and Grandma are the most important people in my life. Even if I slip up n’ miss a date, I could never forget you. I love you too much.”

You let go of Fez’s hands and wrapped them around his waist squeezing him tightly. “I love you too.” 

Although you were no longer looking at him, Fez could hear it in your voice that were crying now. Fez wrapped one arm around you, and used his other to lift your face so he could look at you.

“Don’t cry, baby. You know I hate that.”

You sniffled, trying to stop the tears from falling. “I know. I just feel bad. I shouldn’t have ignored you.”

Fezco kissed your forehead, his lips lingering for just a moment. “It’s done. But let’s promise not to ignore each other, ‘kay?”

You nodded then exhaled trying to calm yourself down. “Okay.”

“Good,” Fez replied. He stepped back from you, your hands dropping down beside you, then he grabbed your hand and began leading you to your spot at the table. “Now, let’s enjoy this food I made.”

“You made this,” you asked smiling as you looked down at the delicious food in the center of the table. Fez could hear the doubt in your voice.

He pulled your chair out for you before he answered. “Well, I paid for it and put it on the nice glass plates. That’s basically makin’ it.”

“You made it look nice. You didn’t make it,” you corrected, giggling at him. You reached your hand out on top of the table once Fez sat down across from you. He took that as a sign you wanted to hold his hand. He reached out, his fingers interlacing with yours. “I love it though,” you told him. Your voice sweet like the syrup on a snow cone. “And I love you,” you added, squeezing his hand.

Fez’s lips curled up into a smile. He knows you mean it. Despite whatever happens, you always mean it.  “Love you too, ma.”

[digitaldiarystuff]

Need You

omg this was heartbreaking and cute to write at the same time, thank you so much for the request!! you can keep them coming and i can try my best 💕

also, slowly becoming a fermin fan acc but no complaining tho lol

————

pairing: Fermin Lopez x Y/N

summary: Fermin let the fame get to his head and wanted a break, that was 2 months ago. One night he’s pulled out of sleep by a phone call from a hospital saying you’ve been in an accident

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: mentions of car accident, bruises and sprained ankle but nothing too graphic

————

Fermin woke up to his phone buzzing constantly. The first time he tried to ignore it and not let it get to him but it started ringing again soon. He huffed with annoyance and reached for his bedside table. The number looked ordinary, he didn’t have it saved and he wasn’t planning on answering a crazy fan’s call at 2 in the morning. He let the buzzing stop and left the phone back trying to go back to sleep but something in him worried, with a loud sigh he reached over again typing the number on his search engine finding it belonged to a local hospital in Barcelona. His heart started racing, his initial thought was Pablo but he was okay at the match today so why was a hospital calling him at this hour?

He tried calling the number back but it went straight to a prerecorded message, Fermin was stressed until the phone connected to the reception.

“Hello, this is Alana from Hospital Clinic. How can I help you?” she asked

“Hey, um, I was just called from this number twice. Can I know the reason?” he said fidgeting with his hand trying to understand if it was just a misunderstanding.

“Can I have your name?”

“Fermin Lopez.” Fermin hesitatingly said, he was recently getting recognition from football fans and was also kind of overwhelmed with it.

“Oh yes, I found it Mr Lopez. It looks like your girlfriend Ms Y/N was in an accident, we tried reaching her family members first, they said they’d come as soon as possible but since they’re out of Barcelona it could take a while and you’re just below them on the emergency call list.”

Fermin listened but after he heard about you in an accident he lost focus, everything the woman said going unnoticed by him. If he thought about it, you weren’t his girlfriend anymore, he said he needed a break but hadn’t tried to reach you ever again. It’s been 2 months with no contact other than the night you called him drunk and cursed him for how easy he let you go and he took your scolding, he knew he deserved it and he also wanted you to be safe so he stayed on the phone with you until you went inside your apartment saying he’d call you to have a proper conversation. He didn’t.

He chickened out, he knew you were head over heels for him, that you’d do anything for him but he was just debuting in first team and his career just took off and everyone kept reminding him that he’s too young for this. He should just focus on his football and girls shouldn’t be a priority. He couldn’t do anything he wanted if he’s tied down at 21 and he let those intrusive thoughts get in his head and became irritated with your presence in his life.

He hated himself for it but couldn’t help himself and picked fights constantly tiring both of you. He’d became cold and distant, forgetting important dates and choosing to go out. Even then you tried to keep the relationship going but everyone has their limits and he crossed yours when he forgot your presentation for your finals. It was the most important thing in your whole academic life and he promised to be there but forgot, prompting your biggest fight ever. That’s when he proposed taking a break until he figured himself out, as he hated the state he put your relationship through. You didn’t even fight him on it, just accepted and went upstairs to gather your belongings. He stood still on his place on the sofa not trusting his legs to work if he’d stand up. You came out the room soon and said goodbye to him, kissing his lips one last time and left your keys on the dresser shutting the door behind you. Fermin still remembered that feeling he felt once he realized you really left, he thought it’d be relief as this is what he wanted all along but it wasn’t. It was pure pain.

“Mr Lopez?” the woman at the end of the line repeated as Fermin was too lost to speak.

“Is she okay?” he asked with a trembling voice. He couldn’t believe something this bad can happen to an angel like you.

“Unfortunately I can’t discuss her state on the phone but she’ll be okay, our best doctors are taking care of her.”

Fermin was already up trying to find any pieces of clothing to throw on as he was just in his boxers. He checked the location on his phone and thanked the receptionist quickly ending the call. He didn’t even realize how much he was shaking until he sat behind the wheel. He had tears on his face and in his eyes occasionally blurring his vision for a second until he finally made it to the hospital. He was shocked that he could drive without getting in an accident himself. He couldn’t lose her, there was no way he could lose her. Even though he knew he didn’t deserve you in the slightest, he loved you with his whole heart. You were his first real girlfriend, his first love, even after all the stupid things he did to push you away he knew you’re his person and he’d do anything for you.

He quickly ran to the reception who asked him for ID and sent him to your floor.

“Room 203” he whispered to himself as the elevator doors opened and he rushed over. A nurse was just coming out of your room with charts in her hand and he stopped her frantically.

“Is she okay? Is Y/N okay?”

The nurse was startled but she was used to seeing people going crazy for their loved ones.

“Yes, don’t worry she just has some minor bruises on her face and body and a sprained ankle. She’ll be here tonight but tomorrow after the doctor clears her she’ll be good to go.” the nurse smiled but Fermin couldn’t bring himself to return the kindness. All he could do was feel relieved, she was okay.

“Can I go in?” he asked

“Um, she should really get some rest. It’s been traumatizing for her.”

“Look I need to see her, I need to make sure she’s okay.” he pleaded and the nurse finally gave in opening the door to let Fermin in.

“Fine but not for too long, she needs some sleep.”

Fermin nodded and took a deep breath, it just dawned on him that this was the first time he’d be seeing you in two months and he was so distraught to even think if she’d want him there or not. Maybe she hated him.

Fermin even thought about turning back and just waiting in the hall but he really needed to see with his own eyes that you were good so he pushed the door further, wishing he had peonies to bring you. They were always your favorite.

“Fermin?” you asked clearly shocked seeing him walk in. Your face had some red and purple marks and your foot was in a big black boot elevated. You looked so beaten and tired but Fermin could swear you’ve never looked so good. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, even when you were apart he tried not looking you up. He didn’t want to go down that rabbit hole and he knew if he started he couldn’t stop until he was begging on his knees at your doorstep.

“Mi vida.” he hesitantly said as he stood by the door afraid to come closer even though everything in him wanted to hug you and kiss you.

“What are you doing here?” you asked. If this was under any other circumstances you’d be pissed at him but you were feeling so ran down that you were just relieved to see him. You were in Barcelona for uni and your parents were back in Sevilla, you only had friends here. Well, and Fermin but not anymore.

“The hospital called.” he said and as scared as he was, he walked over to your bed and sat down on the chair next to it. You could see him lift his hand and then retract it until he just went for it and held your free hand. The other one had a tube in it.

As soon as your hands touched you felt your eyes tearing, you were too weak to hold them in.

“No no no please don’t cry. You’re okay, I’m here please don’t cry cariño.” he tried reassuring you.

“I hate you.” you murmured but leaned in his touch, it was like your mind and body were fighting each other but no matter how angry you were at him you were happy to see him.

You knew he loved you and that’s the reason your break was so painful, you knew this was just a phase but he wouldn’t let you help. He just pushed and pushed you until you were out of his life.

“I know. I know and I’m so sorry but I’m here now and I’m never leaving again. Y/N I know I can never undo what I did but I’m willing to try everything. I can give you as much space and time as you need, I just want to be with you and I can’t stand being far anymore. I’ll take care of you and I’ll do anything for you.” he ranted with tears in his eyes and kissed every single one of your knuckles.

You wanted to act tough, you wanted to make him pay for not giving you enough attention, making you feel insignificant but in this state there wasn’t much you could do other than relying on his words. You never wanted to be apart anyway and he said he was willing to do the work this time so you believed him. Maybe it was naive of you to do, but you did. You loved him.

That night Fermin never left your side, he held your hand until you fell asleep and when you woke up he was still there watching you with dried tears on his face. His hair disheveled, eyes bloodshot and bags under them but he never looked more handsome to you.

“You need to sleep, don’t you have practice in the morning?” you asked as you slowly came to your senses.

“No, what I need is for you to be okay. Everything else can wait.” he said while placing a kiss on your temple and you smiled at him, it had been a long time since you felt that at peace and it was ironic as you were at a hospital bed.

“I also talked to your sister, they’re going to be here today. It’s the earliest flight they could find.”

You smiled up at him, you were feeling a lot better with little pain left and couldn’t wait to be out of this room.

“Did the doctor say when can I go home?” you asked excited to see your family again.

“Yes, he was in here earlier and said as soon as you woke up he’d come and check. Then we’re free to go.”

Just as he finished talking the doctor walked in and asked you some questions about your injuries and looked at his charts.

“Well, I think you’re ready to be discharged Y/N” he smiled and Fermin helped you get up. You still had to use crutches for a while but other than that you were feeling fine.

Even though you tried to argue, Fermin found a wheelchair and brought it to you just for you to get out of the hospital. He was being over affectionate and helpful and you couldn’t help but feel blessed. You knew you had to have a long talk about what happened but right now you were happy to have him back.

“Wait, don’t you dare get up!” he said as you reached his car. You were about to ask him what until you felt his hands under your knees and on your back carrying you bridal style to his car. You missed him lifting you like a feather, you felt so good when he flexed his muscles like that.

You blushed a little when he placed you down and reached for your seatbelt even though you were perfectly capable of doing it yourself, as he buckled you in you couldn’t fight the urge to lean in and kiss him. He was shocked for a second and you thought maybe you misread the situation but soon his hands found your cheeks delicately holding you while deepening the kiss. You knew this was a hospital and you needed to be respectful but his lips on yours made your world stop, it was just you two. He backed off with a smile on his lips. You pouted a little but that changed when he pressed kisses all around your face and your new bruises. You felt safe and sound.

“Where are you going?” you asked when he started the car. “You don’t even know where I live.”

He turned to you looking a little unsure about what he was about to say.

“I was hoping I could bring you home. Like, our home.”

You thought about it for a second.

“I know I said I’d respect your boundaries and wait and I will I promise but I can’t let you be out of my sight ever again Y/N and I’ll do anything to make you feel at ease, I can sleep in the guest room as long as you want me to. Also, your parents have already been there. That’s our home and I’d do anything to prove it.”

You weighed your options, you could go to your 1 bed hundred year old apartment and be miserable with your parents and sister coming in and be far away from Fermin or you could do what your heart wants to and accept his offer and go back to the only place you’d consider home. With him.

“Vale, take me home Fermin.” you smiled and he smiled even more holding your hand and pulling it over to him kissing every bit of it.

“Thank you, thank you for not giving up on me.” he said.

“Thank you for being there for me when I needed you.”

[aliorsboxostuff]

Hi! If your requests are open I have one! Just saw ATSV yesterday and its rotting my brain agsisghagdh anyways-

An M!Spider!Reader who is one of Miguel's trusted agents with a tendency to overwork himself to make sure that his teammates are kept safe and ignoring his own health in the process. This understandably makes Miguel very concerned but this man cannot healthily express this are you kidding? What I'm saying is classic troupe of patching you up while scolding you in Spanish and then maybe they kiss a little bit and well if you want to make it a little spicy I wont stop you >:]

Thank you very much! Genuinely makes my gay little heart happy when I see writers like you who exclusively write for gn/male readers, y'all are the backbone of the x reader community fr 💜

A/N: im so sorry this took so long this was months ago but a mf forgot and wow here i am yippee!!!! As usual, if yall find any spelling mistakes pls inform me as i’m always praciticing this damn 2nd language lmao. Lets see if my writing skills is still any good LOL enjoy!! <333

Careless 

Tags: Miguel O’hara xM!Reader, Spidey!Reader, Lyla, Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, Spider Society, No Smut, Kissing , Fluff, Reader is another spiderman, Soft!Miguel, slight OOC, patching up, healing fic, non-graphic description of wounds, mentions of blood and cuts 

Yet, with all that said, Miguel likes to remind himself that no spidey truly comes home unscathed.

Ever since the new guy joined the team, he quickly rose in the ranks and became Miguel’s right-hand man. He’d usually go on patrol, jumping from one universe to another with the man as they capture and contain anomalies like the bugs they are. Miguel puts his trust in him, well, as much trust as a man like Miguel can put in someone. But despite the short time the newbie has been in the Spider society, he has managed to capture Miguel and most of the Spider people's hearts so easily. 

He’s a comet that passes by the compound. Each time he returned from a mission, the spiders would gather around him, congratulating him on another successful mission and inviting him to drink or eat together.  A aswarm would always gather around the portal they knew he would come out from and each time, without fail, he would emerge to cheers and smiles. It wasn't like everyone else wasn't doing a good job, they were all doing what they were supposed to, but somehow the newbie was liked all around, solidifying Miguel’s slowly growing infatuation with him. 

But despite the trust and praises he gets, a spidey doesn't come home unscathed, not every time. Sometimes he’d come back from one of his solo missions with a broken rib or two, bruises in more places than necessary, a torn muscle here a twisted ankle there. He’d limp his way into the infirmary, an army of other spideys following him in worry yet he’d dismiss them easily with a simple wave and a; “It’s nothing guys, I’ll be fine,”

Miguel hates it.

Whenever the man goes on missions with the leader of the society, without fail, he will come home with nothing more than one or two bruises that would heal in a couple of hours if not minutes. Miguel would roll his shoulders back and the man would simply shake his head furiously like a dog before prancing to greet his waves of fans. Miguel didn't need to pay attention to him unless they were doing teamwork. He would run around by himself, track down the anomaly with him, and they would contain it easily and transfer it back just as easily. 

He might not look like it, but when Miguel brings a teammate with him on duo missions, he’s expected to cover their back and vice versa. Miguel will break any skull that dares to hurt his team and he hopes for the same response from his teammate. The newbie never disappoints. 

Miguel would find himself enraged, almost cornered by an anomaly, and there come’s Prince Charming with a devastating kick towards the anomaly’s side which sends it hurling into another building. Miguel appreciates their duo missions, the main reason he puts himself with the newbie. 

Not to mention, he makes a great team leader too. He’s carried out several missions with the younger ones, mainly Miles and Gwen, and despite it all, they always return successfully and with a snack in hand. When he goes on missions with Hobie, they’d somehow come back with a new intricate playlist created and when he goes on missions with Pavitr, they’d come back with pockets full of trinkets ready to give them to the other youngins. All in all, a solid team leader.

Yet, with all that said, Miguel likes to remind himself that no spidey truly comes home unscathed.

—

You were on a mission with Miles. One of your duo missions with the boy, rare considering Gwen usually tags along. But today she’s got a mission with Pavitr and Peni, which leaves you and Miles for some quality Dude Time. 

It was a sunny day in the universe Miles and you dropped in. As the two of you swing from building to building, talking about Miles’ thing with Gwen and laughing at how embarrassed he gets, continuing the topic to buying a new Lego set for Pavitr and Hobie as the two of you swung past a Lego shop, when suddenly the anomaly reveals itself.

Another variant of Doc Oct holding themselves up with their extended metal arms. You can handle a Doc Oct alone, and with Miles helping you, the mission was expected to be so easy you were already thinking about what to have for dinner. 

But things don't always go according to plan, does it?

It strikes 8 pm when Miguel gets a notif from Lyla that an arriving portal was opened into the containment site of the compound. The man clicks his tongue, dropping from his platform before making his way to the site. Every step he takes he leaves his foul mood like a repellent, making the other spidey avoid him, cutting the middle path of the other spideys like a blade. His scowl is not helping his case either way.

The last portal should've been at 6 pm.

The door slides open, and a slight hiss rings out into the room. Inside the evenly lit expanse of the room, he easily spots yours and Mile’s spider suits in between all the other anomaly's dingy outfits. Miguel takes a breath before he stalks towards the two men, their backs to him.

“Ugh, my rib is killing me,” You groan, pressing in the code to store the anomaly in its cell.

“You're telling me, this bruise is going to be a pain in the butt to heal,” Miles sighed, holding his left arm. “But if it weren't for you, man, I’d be dead meat,” 

“Oh come on Miles, none of us knew the guy would send a gas truck our way,” You scoff. The terminal beeps and the thrashing anomaly is contained. 

“The fact that it burned on its way towards us was also something we didn't expect.” Miles laughs at what you said as you find yourself cringing. You knew there were going to be burn marks on your leg.

“No, but seriously, thanks for covering me back there, I thought we’d-”

“You thought you’d what?” 

Miles practically jumps into your arms as the both of you screams. You shut your eyes and it seems like Mile’s did the same before a stern cough makes you peek through your eyelids. There, in front of you, stands a solid wall of muscle and anger. Miguel has his arms crossed, eyes so sharp it could cut a mountain in half. The slight scowl on his lips would be cute if it weren't for the pure bloodlust as he gazes down into you, making you gulp.

“Heeeeeey Miguel,” Your pathetic excuse of a smile was met with nothing but him deepening his frown. Okay alright yup.

Miles awkwardly scuffles down your arms. He coughs into his fist, pulling at the edge of his suit. “Hi there haha…”

Miguel stares. “The last arrival portal should've been at six.”

Not a sound from you or Miles. Miguel holds back a growl. 

“You two are late.”

“Right, ‘m sorry Miguel, I promise this would be the last time, it was just that- See me and Miles here; we didn't realize that this Doc Oct was gonna be slightly more insane than the others-” You ramble, Miles quickly nodding along. 

“And haha, well, one truck lead to another and next thing ya’ now, bam! We got uh… hurt,” A nervous chuckle left your lips. Miguel replies nothing.

“B-but! I covered Miles from the fire! So he only got a couple of bruises, I promise the kid is fine and it wasn't his fault either so let’s just-”

“Enough.” He barks. You practically clamped your mouth shut. 

The doors hisses open again and Gwen comes running in, worry on her face. She sighs in relief as he spots Miles hiding beside you. “Miles! Thank goodness you’re okay!” 

Miguel turns as she runs and wraps her arms around the boy. “You came back so late!”

“I’m sorry Gwen, things got a bit out of control,” Miles pats the girl back reassuringly. “I just got a bit beaten up, nothing I can't handle,” 

Gwen pulls back and grabs the boy's face before turning it left and right and up and down, her eyes scanning like a hawk. She deems it enough as she stops, hands firmly holding Miles’ arms. “You always say that,” She sighs. 

You can't help the small relieved smile on your lips as you watch the two teens catch up with each other before Miguel makes a gesture with his hand.

“Gwen, go take Morales into the infirmary.” He says as he nods to Lyla that popped up on his brace. “And make sure he doesn't get out of bed for the next two days.”

“What?! But it’s barely a scratch-” 

“Now, Morales.” The man stares them down until eventually, Miles relents with a sigh and lets the girl usher him into the Infirmary's direction, the two of them shuffling next to each other, Gwen's arm around Miles. 

You hear something along the lines of ‘detention’ from Gwen as she laughs before the door slides close, leaving you with an enraged lion in its territory. You gulp as Miguel fixes his red eyes on you.

“You. Come with me.” 

And that's how you find yourself walking down the halls of the many living quarters of the compound. You followed silently behind Miguel’s broad shoulders, in any other day you would find it hard to resist not ogling those massive arms, but tonight Miguel was practically a walking beacon of rage. The smallest misstep would make him burst and thats the last thing you want to happen. 

“Miguel, I'm sorry, okay?” You try, catching up to walk beside him. “I promise this will be the last time I’ll come back from a mission late, plus, I won't bring anyone else with me too if I ever do it again. I swear this won't hap-”

His sudden halt catches you off guard and you bump against him. You scratch the bridge of your nose with a slight frown from the impact. The dimly lit hallway made it a slight challenge to read the nameplate but you managed to make out ‘O’Hara’ and with that, your stomach drops.

“Um… Miguel, this isn't my room…” 

The door opens. The room is pitch black. 

Miguel makes his way inside. His red eye glows before he commands; “Sit.” 

Fear brought you to sit on his bed, not a crease in sight which only struck your fear deeper into you. You could hear your heartbeat, terrified for what's to come. The worst thing Miguel could do would probably chew you out in the comfort of his room, away from any possible witnesses, and then maybe take you out of commission for a while as your punishment. 

You gulp as the man sets something beside you. It was a box, hard to make out what it was but it seemed heavy. Miguel clawed and the large hand extends towards you and you screw your eyes shut, hell did you pray to any god that was willing to listen to you so please please please-

“Bring your face closer.” 

Huh?

Cautiously, you open your eyes to Miguel’s face inches away from you, a warm light bathes over his features, making the lines of worry and fear evident. “Let me see your wounds.” 

You blink, once, twice, owlishly, making the man before you sigh and cup your jaw softly. He turns your face to inspect it before he brings his other hand which wipes your fringe away from covering any other possible wounds. 

He hums. “Looks like just scratches.” 

The mystery box turns out to be a first aid kit. Miguel flicks it open and rummages around in it before he pulls a couple of bottles and bandages out. 

“Take off your suit top, we need to treat that burn before it gets worse.” He demands. You cough before awkwardly peeling off what's left of your suit before dropping it on the carpeted floor. You need to get that repaired.

You couldn't bear to meet Miguel's eyes. Not when he’s kneeled in front of you, his usually intimidating body looking small as he’s hunched over. He looks tired, his frown is a mixture of worry and annoyance, but there is something beneath it. Something you don't dare to think about but you know. You always knew. From the first day, you finally managed to see that crack in Miguel’s hardened exterior, you’ve been scared to make another move toward him. Behind this wall of a man, is a heart guarded with spikes and what he has in his eyes right now as he’s wrapping a cooling pad around your arm is something that petrifies you. 

“Next time you’ll be doing missions with me and me only. I won't be assigning you to any other spiders until you learn to take care of yourself,” He huffs, unveiling another roll of bandages.  He pulls at your shoulder which makes you turn slightly. 

"Fucking hell, ¿cómo puedes ser tan descuidado? You run around saving everyone else but who’s going to save you, huh?" He huffs, wrapping the last of the bandage slightly too tight which makes you wince. He notices but does nothing. 

Once again, he holds your chin between his fingers as your gazes suddenly meet. Miguel growls with how you won't meet his eyes, firmly pointed anywhere but into Miguel’s red eyes. He sighs before letting you go as he takes out some ointments. He puts the substance on your cheek and under your slowly blackening eye, then down your jaw where you know a pretty bad bruise taints your skin. You feel his movement slow before his hand rests on your nape, sending jolts of warmth through your body.

“Cuídate, ¿eh? Cuídate." His voice devastatingly soft. 

Confusion and a steady wave of feelings start at the bottom of your heart, which only worsens as you finally find the courage to look at Miguel. To your surprise, his eyes are wider than usual, pools of crimson oozing with care as he scans your features. His thumb rubs at the base of your skull. “I can't lose my right-hand man.” 

He sighs. “Please, necesito que estés seguro por mí,"

You inhale sharply. Without realizing it, he's practically inches away from you. Your heart races, beats out of your control when Miguel rubs your nape again. 

“Miguel…?” 

A beat passes. Silence. 

Before Miguel growls roughly and promptly stands, taking the med kit with him. He makes his way to what you assume was his wardrobe. Panic rises beside you, making you wave around your hands. “I- Um- Miguel please I didn't mean to- Oof!”

Something was thrown at you. Something soft and large and is this hit shirt and… boxers?! 

“Change your clothes. You can't sleep in those.” Miguel points out, his scowl now a pout on his lips. 

“But-”

“I'm not saying this twice.” He growls before he slides into the bathroom and leaves you in his bedroom along with the pile of his clothes in your arms. 

You slowly look down at what you're holding. Carefully, you slide off what's left of your suit and drop them in a discarded pile before pulling on Miguel's clothes. To no one's surprise, you're practically drowning in the shirt. His boxers barrel fits you and the first goes over your tighs easily. You feel smaller even for your height and stature, but it feels… safe. 

The door of the bathroom slides open to reveal Miguel standing with slightly damp hair as he's drying it off with a towel and in nothing but gray sweats. Something grows within you and it’s definitely something else besides your heart. 

“Ah, you're done,” He glances toward you before setting the towel down neatly. He saunters to the side of his large bed, pulling the covers off before sliding in. An arm keeps the cover slightly open, before he raises an obvious brow.

“Get in here and sleep,” He huffs. 

You jump and quickly slide beside Miguel, careful to keep an inch of a distance. But that was deemed unsuccessful when the man beside you pulled you to his side, and his arm wrapped protectively around your middle which made you drape your hand over his chest. Before you can squirm, he locks his chin over your head with a content sigh. 

Shit, he really is a giant lion. You sigh. 

“Sleep. You need your rest to heal.” Miguel’s voice purrs through you while you're practically glued to his side. You chuckle slightly before pressing a peck just below his jaw.

“You sleep too.” You smile. “Good night Miguel.” 

You hear Miguel hum before he presses his lips to your crown. “Good night.” 

Translations:

how can you be so careless? = cómo puedes ser tan descuidado

Take care, huh? Take care of yourself. = Cuídate, ¿eh? Cuídate.

I need you to be safe for me, = necesito que estés seguro por mí,

Reblogs are appreciated <3

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Do It For Me

This fic will cover my Laser-Tag/Paintball Adventure square on my @jacklesversebingo card.

Summary: You really want Ben to get into the spirit of a fun Paintball adventure. What will you have to promise to get him there.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: None really. Bit of kissing, some suggestive language. Ben being a grumpy boy. Versions of Ben, Annie and Hughie that don't necessarily fit canon.

Pairings: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Reader

Word Count: 1,259

A/N: So this is my next square for my second jacklesversebingo card. The request for this one came from @spnwoman who said this:

Hi me again!! Lol or a “laser tag/paintball adventure” with soldier boy/ Ben with the reader would be really fun for them to let lose and have fun as a couple with promise as something sexy as a reward 😉

I veered a little bit away from your request; it ended up more fluffy than sexy, but I hope you still enjoy it!

The beautiful dividers were created by @firefly-graphics

“This is fucking ridiculous, Y/N. You can’t expect me to put this shit on.” Ben’s voice was sharp, but his face was pouty as you looked up from tying on your knee pad.

You couldn’t help but smile at his annoyance which made his pout turn into a glare. You shook your head. “Look, it’s just the rules of the course. Everybody has to wear the safety equipment.”

As you finished speaking, one of the elbow pads he’d attached incorrectly fell to the ground, making an angry growl erupt from his chest, and you covered your mouth as a giggle threatened to escape. The last thing you wanted to do was laugh at him. It had taken a lot of cajoling and promises on your part to get him to even come down to the paintball course. 

It was a double date that you and he were having with Annie and Hughie. You’d told him it would be so much fun, that it would be great to go out with another couple. You told him how much it would mean to you to do something couple-y with your boyfriend. But he’d resisted all arguments.

“I am an actual fucking soldier. I’m not going to some playland to pretend I’m a soldier and shoot paint at each other.” He’d scoffed. “It’s a game for children, and in case you forgot, sweetness, I’m a man.” 

He'd yanked you up against him at that point and every one of your arguments sank beneath a moan as he plundered your mouth and kissed you breathless. The discussion had been postponed while he spent the afternoon showing you just how much of a man he was. 

But the next day you’d started the campaign again. Ben had been frustrated beyond belief at your refusal to take no for an answer. Finally he’d made you a deal. He’d go play paintball with you if you did something for him, something he’d been trying to get you to do since you'd started dating. With only a brief hesitation from you, the deal was struck.

Now you were here and you had to admit that he did look a little ridiculous in the paintball gear. He was out in public so he had his super suit on, but the place where you were playing insisted that everyone had to wear their helmets, elbow and knee pads. Trying to fit the equipment over Ben’s actual soldier's uniform, complete with knee pads and elbow pads of his own, wasn’t going very well. 

“Here,” you said as you bent to pick up the elbow pad, “take yours off. You won’t need them while we’re here, right? So, just wear these ones instead. And the helmet will be great, you used to wear one all the time, I’ve seen pictures.”

Ben jammed the silly black helmet on his head, leaving the visor raised and the clasp and chin strap dangling. “Yeah, it didn’t look like this.”

You bit your lip again and reached up to secure the strap under his chin and snap it into place. “You look very adorable.”

Ben continued to glare as you finished dressing him. 

“Hey guys.” Annie spoke as she and Hughie came into the changing area. “All ready to go?”

You snapped the last buckle in place on Ben’s knee pad and nodded. “Yep! Be prepared to go down you two!” You raised a finger and looked at Annie and then Ben. “Oh, and no superpowers allowed.”

Both supes rolled their eyes and Ben picked up his gun and eyed it suspiciously.

“Paint. Pfft.” He mumbled under his breath.

It may have started rough, but within ten minutes Ben was fully invested. He was calling out strategies to you as he scouted the terrain. (The terrain being a concrete play area covered with various objects to hide behind - old car hoods, bales of hay, a shed with one side missing, etc.)

As you hid in the shed, Ben had his back to you, keeping watch on the open side. He turned to you and gave you a series of extravagant hand gestures that you guessed were supposed to tell you something. When you just stared at him with wide eyes and shrugged shoulders he rolled his eyes. 

He made the gestures again, whispering instructions at the same time. “I’m gonna scout forward, you stay hidden. Watch your right flank.”

“Oh. Mmkay.” You said with a thumbs up. 

Ben just sighed and moved forward, his head on a swivel as he moved from one piece of cover to another. A few minutes later you heard Annie and Hughie let out twin shouts of dismay and then Ben’s cry of victory. You poked your head out of the shed as the three of them walked forward. Hugh and Annie were splattered nearly head to toe with Ben’s green paint. Ben didn’t have a drop on him. 

You grinned as he approached you, the visor on his helmet raised and a huge smile wreathing his face. 

“Let’s go again!” He shouted.

***

A few days later:

You felt Ben behind you, pressing tight against you. His body was hard and warm, but you trembled. You’d never done anything like this and it scared you.

“Ben - “ You started, but he cut you off.

“Uh uh, sweetness, you promised. You said if I played paintball, you’d finally give me this.”

A whine entered your voice as Ben’s arms encircled you. “But, you liked paintball in the end. I’m telling you, I’m really not sure about this.”

“I am.” Ben tilted his head to press a kiss just behind your ear. “I’m very sure.”

You sighed deeply. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

Ben kicked your feet further apart. “Widen your stance.” Then he brought his hands forward onto yours before pulling your arms back a little. “And tuck your arms in closer to your body. You’ll take the recoil better.”

The power of the cold metal weapon in your hands made you sweat as Ben pressed another kiss to your cheek and then stood up and moved away from you. “Okay, baby aim for dead center and pull the trigger when you feel ready.”

Watching your face, Ben could see your fear. “Y/N.” He said softly and you looked at him. “You’re perfectly safe, you’re just aiming at a piece of paper. You can’t hurt anyone.”

He reached out to run his fingers down your cheek. “I know this isn’t something you’ll ever enjoy, and that’s perfectly okay. But I’ll feel much better if you know how to defend yourself against my enemies. I have too many to count and they all know I’m impervious to any kind of pain.” His eyes darkened and you saw real fear there. “So they can only hurt me by hurting you.”

He disarmed you quickly and effortlessly and then pulled you into his arms. He kissed you deeply, harshly, desperately, sucking the air from your lungs. When he finally pulled away, you were panting. His forehead rested against yours and he closed his bright green eyes so his fear and worry were hidden from you. “Please, baby, I need to give you all the protection I can, which includes showing you how to protect yourself. That starts with learning how to handle a weapon.”

He opened his eyes and pulled back a bit, chucking your chin and then pressing one more light kiss against your lips, before whispering to you. “Please.” His voice was almost begging.

You sighed deeply, swayed by his worry and concern. 

“Okay.” You conceded. “Give me back the gun and let me try.”

Ben patted your ass and grinned when you frowned at him. "Good girl."

You chuckled - couldn't expect him to stay mushy for too long.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @akshi8278 @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

[glitchedsoftware]

well its been long enough so here it is -

My personal thoughts and issues with Sammy Lawrences characterization in Dreams Come to Life

little disclaimer im obviously gonna be pretty negative in this so if you like the books good for you!! i just want to put my thoughts on the matter out there its just some silly indie horror game book and i wouldnt take others opinions TOO seriously lol also spoilers for dctl of course

also another little edit - a majority of this was written before the graphic novel came out,, not like that changes anything rlly just yk remember im exclusively talking about the original novel here

Lets start with the most obvious point first - the racism/misogyny

The idea that Sammy's racist and misogynistic mainly stems from two parts from the book - the part where Sammy refers to Tom by his first name instead of "Mr Connor" to which Tom replies quote "Not used to giving someone like me respect?" and the part where he refers to Abby by her first name with Buddy directly stating how he wonders if this could mean Sammy has some sort of bigoted views.

Now of course he does consider if this is just a habit of his, but it is pretty unclear if that's the case. This weirdly vague and ambiguous way of writing a fan favorite character to be racist and misogynistic is just generally very weird to me. Before anyone tells me I am aware of the fact a former kindly beast member claimed that Toms race had nothing to do with it and Sammy just said that because he's a repairman or whatever, but that still doesn't remotely change the fact that it can easily be read as Sammy being racist.

(Also even in said screenshot they said how could be easily interpreted as that. Also they didn't even write the book obviously so that whole point just falls flat.)

To be fair, there is a line from Buddys first encounter with Sammy in which he also refers to Joey by first name, which could imply Buddys other conclusion was correct and that its just a habit of his.

However, I'd argue this small details pretty easy to miss (even I almost forgot about it while writing this) especially considering the only other people he refers to by any sort of name was Tom and Abby. That paired with the other two scene previously stated still make this very easy to misinterpret and even considering this, very confusing on if Sammy was written with the intention of him being racist. Also Sammys bigotry in this book being conflicted by literally one word kinda speaks for itself. It's just super weird and definitely should have been handled better. If you don't know how to write topics like this with the amount of care they deserve then you don't need to write them. On another note, Sammy being racist or misogynistic just wouldn't affect the story or world building in any sort of meaningful way. Whether he was supposed to be bigoted or not, it has no bearing on the story or characters. Any time It's even slightly implied this could affect someone it's just super underdeveloped which makes this whole thing just feel completely pointless and unnecessary. It really does just come off like it was just thrown in there to "make it more realistic to the time period" instead of working it into the story in any meaningful way that actually works, or any sort of commentary on that sorta thing other than just "racism and misogyny exist".

On a related note, I saw someone speak out about how they interpreted specifically the scene with Tom to be intended not to show that Sammy's racist, but to show how Tom would assume that it was about his race considering he's of course a black man in the 1940s and has clearly faced discrimination over that before. I could almost see how that could be perceived, but that along with the part with Abby really makes me contemplate if that was really the intention behind that scene. Also, as I said before, it isn't really expanded on how that would affect Tom. I get that that could just be because Tom is supposed to be more of a rude abrasive kinda guy, I'm not expecting him to cry over it or something. I just feel it should have either been a bit more developed on, or not been there at all. I'm all for subtly, I love how the subtle misogyny is shown in BatIM with the Alice angel merchandise not selling as well as other products, but if that's what they were going for I think this was a bad way of doing it. If you wanted to portray how this kind of bigotry affects people, maybe choosing the rude asshole character who doesn't really seem to give a shit wasn't really the best idea. (Also who's in the games implied to be classist but that's a whole other conversation) Sorry for the little detour away from discussing just Sammy, I just felt it was important since I do get where that point was coming from, I just still feel like the execution of it all was FAR from perfect.

Also overall the idea that Sammy would be racist or misogynistic is just awfully misunderstanding Sammys character and it just really fails at what its trying to do. Sammy is shown to have had a genuinely strong relationship with Susie (whether you interpret it as romantic or not) and never shown to have seen women as less than, quite the opposite actually. I saw someone say Sammy being bigoted doesn't make sense because "he doesn't respect anybody" and I heavily disagree. I think it doesn't work because he does care so much about people. In the cycle Sammy isn't shown to be selfish at all, like he's not just trying to free himself but also others (albeit through sacrificing Henry, and even then describes that as seeming "cruel"). You know it's "he will set us free". Whether he himself knows or not, Sammy does care about people deeply so him being bigoted just really doesn't work at all.

I just generally thought the topic of discrimination was handled pretty bad. I could go on and on about this subject alone, but hopefully I was able to get my point across.

Now with that out of the way I can discuss just the general mischaracterization and demonization of Sammys character

This obviously being a more broad subject makes it a little difficult to start so let me just start with this- I believe that Sammys character get heavily dumbed down to just being an asshole. I of course have no problem with Sammy being a bit of a dick considering the sort of sarcastic tone he's shown to have had in certain audio logs, but the problem arises when that is practically all he is shown to be. Looking through every scene with him, all he ever did was just be super rude to everyone and eventually go insane and kill people and talk about worshiping Bendy or whatever with little depth. This, in my opinion, makes him both weak as a character and antagonist. I mean, Buddy only first met Sammy the DAY he got infected by the ink. He never even knew what Sammy was like before that incident which REALLY makes the line "I just know that Sammy isn't Sammy anymore" make no sense. Buddy never knew Sammy, he only knew the one dimensional character we got in Dreams Come to Life.

After looking through all of Sammys characterization outside the novels I can clearly deduce that Sammy was never even explicitly the sort of condescending asshole hes shown to be in Dreams Come to Life, but was just a bit blunt and stern due to the stress of working at the studio. I get that some people just chock up his behavior to the fact that he had been drinking ink at the time or whatever, but again the fact we're never shown how he was before that just makes this feel like overall bad writing to me. It just feels like a very poor attempt at writing Sammy that lacks any sort of nuance his character was shown to have. Characters have intended purposes, and I believe Sammys was to display a character who was so overworked it drove him to insanity. Part of the reason he even worships Bendy is just because the unhealthy hours he would spend working forced him to have to see his stupid face everywhere, not the whole ink addiction thing the book goes with. It's one thing to make him unnecessarily rude, but the thing is that they never really deviate from him being just that, which just left his character feeling very flat and lackluster to me. Buddy being an "unreliable narrator" doesn't excuse this both because Buddy only states that he sometimes forgets the order of events, not the actual events themselves, and, as I said before, it never deviates from this view of Sammy. I don't even think Buddy was supposed to be an "unreliable narrator" in that way as I've heard people excuse this for. If all of Sammys mischaracterization was because of that, than like half of the book would just be Buddy completely making shit up, which clearly isn't the case. The book just genuinely tries to portray Sammy in some of the worst light ever.

All that along with the the whole implied bigotry thing I just discussed really makes it seem like they tried dehumanizing Sammy as much as possible, which really goes against one of the core messages of BatIM. Sammy just being some asshole who got addicted to ink and went crazy because of it is FAR less interesting or emotionally compelling than him being an abused overworked employee and a prime example of what working at the studio can do to someone. Stripping him of that in favor of making it that he's always just been a total dick just completely misses a lot of the point of Sammys character and even BatIM as a whole. It's not just a game about "ooh scary ink" or whatever, it's also a game about corporate greed, capitalism and obviously how big corporations abuse and manipulate their minimum wage workers. And that's what Sammy is. He's not "evil" he's just a victim of a highly unhealthy work environment. Sammy being overworked to death (literally) is something that is barely, if at all, developed on in the book weirdly enough, despite being a very interesting part of his character that they had every opportunity to explore. It feels almost like they explicitly tried making Sammy so unsympathetic so he could be a more "evil" antagonist which, in turn, makes him a very poorly written antagonist lacking depth and completely missing anything that made his character so interesting. Again they just took Sammy being a bit irritable and sarcastic and wrote him as being a genuinely bad person, which really bugs me for sorta personal reason I'll get into in this next section.

Why this matters (to me)

I feel its of importance that I discuss how writing an implied mentally ill/neurodivergent character in such a demonizing way can, whether intentional or not, come off as ableist. TO MAKE THIS CLEAR I am NOT stating Adrienne Kress is ableist. This is overall just a much larger issue in general that definitely could have a discussion of it's own. However I will be briefly talking about it since it does unfortunately relate to dreams come to life.

As I said before, Sammy is a victim. Yes, he's still a morally grey character who generally does bad things with good intentions, but hes still a character. The way Sammy is shown to act and have acted in the past is very likely because he was mentally ill and possibly autistic. Taking an actually nuanced character like that who was clearly just extremely mentally unwell and writing it that he's some evil irredeemable asshole has always just rubbed me the wrong way. As an autistic person myself, I've always kinda had issues with regulating my emotions and coming off as "too blunt", so seeing a character who also has those traits be warped into being a "bad person" just. Really sucks.

When I read Dreams Come to Life, I had always sorta read Buddy as being autistic, all though this coding could have been unintentional. For instance, he's shown to not fully get some social cues and mentions feeling like people would kinda talk down to him for not getting certain things. This being the case really confused me for a bit as to why Sammy was demonized for also displaying traits of autism until it finally hit me as to why that is. It's likely because Sammy shows symptoms that are unfortunately far more stigmatized by society. Lack of emotional/impulse control can obviously lead to someone being more prone to lashing out than other people would, and I hate how just in general people or even characters who do that are labeled as "bad people" since that clearly isn't true. Again, he's not evil or whatever, he's just extremely stressed and overworked. That's all it ever was.

Sorry for getting a bit personal, in case it wasn't obvious I'm just very passionate about this character (and franchise in general) and just wanted to discuss how I personally perceived certain things. I'm sure I wasn't supposed to read into it THIS much and I know I'm probably stretching with this. Again, I VERY HIGHLY doubt Adrienne Kress intended for Sammys writing to be read as ableist, just felt like getting my thoughts out there (regardless of how insane I probably sound)

Conclusion

To sum it all up, I just found Sammy character to be heavily flanderized and lacking a lot of the things that I personally loved so much about him, as well as finding the way bigotry was portrayed to be very nothing. It just overall didn't build on what we know about Sammys character in game in any interesting way, at least to me. Despite how long this was, I honestly don't really mind people who enjoy the books, this wasn't some personal dig on anyone of course lol. Hell, I'm even friends with some people who like Dreams Come to Life!! I've tried putting different perspectives into writing this, and I've obviously concluded that this, on top of just a bunch of general issues with the book, have just made me personally unable to like it. I'm fine with people liking the books, however I do wish people would actually criticize them more than they do. Like, you're allowed to criticize the things you like, especially with a franchise as flawed as Bendy lmao

Anyways that's pretty much it. Thanks for listening to me ramble about this silly little series I'm hyperfixated on <3

[schumachersricciardo]

Shiver

Chapter Six - You’re All I’ve Ever Known

♡ Mick Schumacher x Reader, Best friend!Danny Ricc x reader

♡ TW: Swearing, inaccurate timeline of F1/F2/F3, badly translated German using Google, blood/injuries (not graphic, but there is are mentions of it!), i forgot how many days elapsed between scenes bc i wrote this in like two days. so ya know ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. INACCURATE DESCRIPTIONS OF ENGLAND???? I literally made up street names and i think a school, so don’t come for me. I’m just a girl. plus i’m american so like we already have enough on our plates. Ummm slight kidnapping vibes??? very inaccurate and probably wrong medical talk.

♡ She/Her pronouns are used, nothing descriptive about reader except that her hair is long enough to pull back into a ponytail or braid, no reader insert, timeline skips. ALSO: WARNING!!!! I will barely be mentioning Michael Schumacher. I do not presume to know what he is thinking, or would say in these fictional scenarios. I am trying to be respectful of their privacy and not make any assumptions!!!!!! He will be mentioned here and there, but I do not believe any dialogue will be associated with him. If you do not like that, then do not read it. :)

♡ 6.3k words

♡A/N: Again, posting this on mobile and will format it when i get back from work! sorry it’s a day late. yesterday was very bad lol ok love u bye

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It seemed like there was never going to be an end to the poking, the prodding, and testing on your body. Everyday, there was to be a new test or a repeat of an old one to be done. On top of already having been in the hospital for more than two weeks now, your memory was still not coming back to you. Sometimes someone would say something and if it as if your brain knew the memory tied to it, but it couldn’t relay it to your voice fast enough to recollect it. You didn’t know what was worse at this point:

“No, no threes. Go fish.” Your Uncle Sebastian echoed, stopping your train of thought.

Trying to focus your eyes, you looked at the pile of cards in front of you and drew another one.

“Do you… Have any… sixes?”

The four time champion just smiled and slid over some of his cards. You neatly made a pile of your finished “sixes” cards. Moments later, there was a slight knock on the door before it slowly pushed open towards the two of you.

“Hi, Mrs. Schumacher. It’s good to you see you again.”

So here’s the thing - You had been called that many times now. Almost every nurse and doctor has called you that… And since you had no room to counter, you never corrected them. Who knows? Maybe you and Mick actually got married after high school like the two of you talked about. And as weird as it was for you to be called that… It certainly felt right and didn’t make you feel uncomfortable - which of course made things curious and curioser.

“Mrs.… Schumacher??” Sebastian Vettel put his cards down and eyed the nurse and the doctor. There was a look on their faces that you couldn’t quite place.

“So sorry, no,” The doctor began correcting his mistake. He finally addressed you by your first and last name. “I’m sorry, again. Mr. Schumacher is your medical proxy and I forget that those in fact, do not have to be spouses.”

The doctor nervously chuckled as he prepared various medicinal instruments. It would happened two times a day where they’d check your cognitive function and your response to stimuli. Sometimes you’d say things that were a memory, but moments later you forget you said that. You even had times where Mick was in the same room, and you had forgotten who he was so you called him… Pleading for him to come back and comfort you.

He was the only constant in your life.

The doctor and nurses finished their exam and let you get back to your card game. You had no memory of the man who sat across from you, even though he said he was like family to Mick and that he knew you when you were little. He’d tell you stories about his time in Formula One, and how he’s focused on sustainability now and finding new hobbies. You truly were delighted in the presence of this man, but deep down inside you wished that Mick were there.

He had some press releases to do, as his racing came to halt when you crashed out in Silverstone. He was planning on racing the last 5 races as you were getting better now. Well, physically. Your leg was almost ready to be put in a regular soft cast once the rods would be removed. Your arm was out of its cast completely, and it seemed like your ribs and spine were doing okay. It was just your dumb brain that needing fixing.

“You alright?” Soon, Sebastian’s voice pulled you out of your endless thinking. “We can stop, if you’d like. I think you are beating me, anyway.”

Silently, you put down your cards and pushed the tray that was on wheels aside. You didn’t know what was coming over you. You felt an immense sadness and regret, but you didn’t know why. You were lost. Having your memories stripped of you is such a cruel fate… You rather have just not survived.

“I’m not good enough for him.” You plainly stated.

Sebastian blinked a few times as he put down his playing cards as well. He took a deep breath and tried his best to comfort you.

“Why do you say that? He’s been here every day since you crashed.” Sebastian’s tone was cautious, but caring.

“i mean… Look at me? I have rods sticking out of my leg… And I can’t remember shit. It’s pathetic.”

The former F1 didn’t have a response. He couldn’t imagine what you were going through, let alone the both of you. He just gently reassured you with a grasp of his hand on yours. Before you knew it, even his thoughts were halted by someone entering your hospital room.

“Hello, ma’am, I’m Nurse Elsie.” The brunette nurse beamed at you, and took the clipboard off of the end of the bed. “Do you remember who I am?” Her British accent was thick… You couldn’t place from where though.

You paused and did your best to remember someone named Elsie.

“You-You were there when I first woke up… And you were telling me to stay calm…”

The nurse’s expression immediately turned. Complete surprise and bliss overtook her as she grinned at you and Sebastian. She grabbed your hands ever so softly and opened her mouth to speak.

“Yes, that’s correct! I was here the day you came in, and I haven’t left since.” It truly warmed your heart to see someone that hardworking have some sense of relief. “And I am glad you’re speaking English again!”

“Was… I not before?” Your eyebrows furrowed and your focused shifted to Sebastian. He pressed his lips in a tight line, debating if he should answer for you when Mick wasn’t there.

Clearing his throat, he straightened his posture and exhaled.

“When you first woke up, you were only speaking in German. Mick had to translate for you for a while, until you felt comfortable enough to speak English again.” Vettel calmly responds, his hand scratching at the stubble on his jawline. You nodded along while he explained a few more things to you.

About twenty minutes later after another few tests were done, you were absolutely exhausted. You tucked yourself into the hospital bed with one of Mick’s blankets added to the pile for extra warmth. His scent was wearing off of the blanket as you pulled it up to your chin. Mick was familiar to you, and to your feelings - Yet, part of him remained a stranger. He was older, well you both were now.

He was not the shy little school boy anymore, but a confident young man. His muscles had grown noticeably and his hair was long, like you liked it. His jawline had formed into sharp corners where it meets his ears, as opposed to the chubby faced kid who would ride his bike alongside you and hold your hand in crowded places so you wouldn’t get lost. On the other hand and maybe the stronger one at that, you didn’t recognize him at all. Sure, he looked like Mick and sounded like him… But there was a piece missing to the dynamic between the two of you that you couldn’t quite place.

When he would be in the hospital room with you, it was almost as if he was treating you with a fragility that was completely peculiar to the way your foggy memory could recall him treating you. He was always kind and always held a special tenderness for you, that much you could remember… But be that as it may, he was handling you now with a delicate hand - so afraid of breaking you further. You couldn’t tell from where you sat if it was because of your injuries that he was being extra careful around you, or because there was something he wasn’t telling you.

“Knock, Knock.” The familiar voice of another doctor entered your stumbling train of thought as they entered your room. Sebastian stood to greet her and shake her hand.

“How are you feeling today, ma’am?” You shrugged and mumbled something incoherent. “Right then! My name is Doctor Wells. I’m the Chief of Neurology, and have been following your case closely.”

You honestly were having a tough time keeping all these doctors and nurses straight in your head, that you thought adding one more to the list might make you explode. But still - you politely greeted her as you told her your name.

“You’ve been making great progress physically, it seems. Your leg will be moved to a soft cast in two days time, and then in about a month, we’ll x-ray your leg to see when we would take that cast off, but again, it’s looking good.” The doctor smiled as her green eyes scanned the clipboard in front of her.

She began to hum to yourself as she jotted down some notes. You immediately noticed it, and Sebastian immediately noticed you. It was as though you couldn’t breathe all of a sudden and you had no clue as to why. Your monitors began to beep at a rapid rate, while the voices around you were telling you things but you couldn’t hear them. All you could hear was a loud, sharp and lasting ringing in your eyes as you sobbed. Soon, you felt the calming medicine go through your IV and settle your heart rate. It took a few more minutes to gain your bearings.

“Es tut mir Leid (I’m sorry).” You breathed out as you laid back down trying to get comfortable again.

Sebastian excused himself to go make a phone call, assuring you that he’d be back in a few minutes.

“That’s quite alright. Your body has been through a lot these last few weeks.” Dr. Wells smiled at you with an overwhelming aura of reassurance. She took a beat, and pulled up her rolling stool next to your bedside. “May I ask what I did to trigger that reaction? I want to know so I won’t do it again.”

You turned your head to meet her gaze, her eyes filled with worry and sympathy. You tried your best to think about the answer to her question. She could practically hear the gears turning in your head while you attempted to pinpoint what it was that upset you.

“The humming… When you hummed… It… I don’t know - did something to me.” Dr. Wells nodded in response and promise that she wouldn’t do it again. “Can I ask you a question, Dr. Wells?”

“Anything at all.”

You moved your hospital bed up so you could sit up and see the doctor better. You had very little to go on, but what you could go off of confidently was people’s expressions and the way their faces moved when they spoke to you.

“What are my chances of getting my memory back, and if I don’t… What do I do?” In turn, your facial expression was desperate, reeking of hopelessness and despair. She could see the devastation the accident has brought you, as it seeped out of the pores of your skin and infected your surroundings.

“Well, you’re making good progress and you remember Nurse Elsie which is a great sign… And the fact that you still know who Mick is a great sign,” Dr. Wells began slowly. “But, we really won’t know the extent of the damage the crash took, especially in regard to your memory. All your brain scans have thus far been clean, with no cause for concern.”

You started to feel tears brimming in your eyes as you bit your bottom lip to try and stifle back your cries. Shakily, you let out whatever air you had left in your lungs now.

“Sometimes things like this just happen and we don’t know why… But what we do know is that memories can always be created. You may not be able to remember the ones you had previously, but you can always replace them with new ones, better ones even.”

The pair of you talked for a few minutes more about your situation and how best to help it. She gave you some flyers for support groups and some numbers for therapists that specialize in what you were going through. She checked your vitals once more before heading towards the door and exiting, smiling a courteous smile as she disappeared into the vast hospital.

On the rare occasion you were left alone in your room, you liked to write things down in a notebook Mick gave you. It was your favorite color, with a giant ‘MSC47’ sticker on it. You had asked him what that was and he told you it was his racing number. To that, you asked why he didn’t put your racing number… And in response to that, he sheepishly admitted that it slipped his mind to put your number, but he was glad you always had a reminder of him. You didn’t even notice you were reminiscing until you caught yourself stroking the sticker on the front of your notebook. Blinking a few times to clear your mind, you opened it up to the next free page only to see that someone really tried not to write in their typical chicken scratch.

Smidge,

If you are reading this, then I must be away doing some press related things. I wish I did not have to, but duty calls and I also think Toto would come to my house and drag me there himself (in a very nice way, of course). Anyway, I wanted to write you a short note and let you know that I will be back soon, and hopefully you will be coming home after that. I have rented a place out here for you and me that will be sufficient enough until you decide where you want to fully rest and recover. We can go back to your apartment in Italy or to one of my family’s cottages in Switzerland. I would even take you back to the states to find respite at my ranch in Texas, but I know you do not have fond memories of Texas. I want to do only what you are comfortable with, Schätzen.

As for my last few races, I am on the lookout for the best home care nurse I can find while I am away. Sebastian offered, but he has a family and children of his own. When you feel up to it, I would also like your opinion on how you would like your care to be handled when I am at a race. I want you to feel as safe and taken care of as possible. It kills me that I have to go away to participate in the last few races, but part of me is also excited to get back to driving alongside Lewis. We (Mostly I) will dedicate every race to you, Schätzen. Maybe if you are healed and well enough, you may be able to attend the last race of the season. That would be very fun, as I know some of the drivers are dying to see you again.

I cannot think of anything else to write that might ease your mind while I am gone for now. I cannot imagine how difficult it must be to not know anybody there, but I do hope that with Sebastian being there it has calmed some of your nerves. He admires you greatly, and you have always been fond of him. I feel exactly the same way. But you can always text message me or call me, if you need me. I know you are not quite comfortable with that form of communication yet, but I just want you to know that I will always respond and pick up when I see your name pop up on my phone.

Anyway, I am excited and full of anticipation for when I get to lay eyes on the most beautiful woman I have come to know again. Your strength and perseverance through this entire ideal has been something to write in the history books about. I cannot wait to hear your laugh and feel your fingers interlaced with mine. I am looking forward to our days spent on the couch, sharing a blanket, with you tucked underneath my side - where you fit so perfectly beside me as if it were meant to be. And until we see each other again, just know I am thinking of you always and missing you every second of the day.

You hold my heart in your hands.

Ich gehöre für immer dir.

(I am yours forever.)

Love,

Mickey

There were drops of water scattered across the page as you tried to stop yourself from crying again.

You may not know him, but he knows you. And the feeling was overwhelming.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian’s quiet voice came into notice as you looked up at him with tearful eyes. He tilted his head to the side in concern.

“He… Wrote me… He wrote me… This letter… He knew I would find it… He knew this… That I would want to write things down, after the day I had… And he knew I would find his letter…” You spoke in between sobs, your chest falling up and down at a rapid rate.

“Okay, okay. Let’s take a few deep breaths and then we can talk about it, ja?” Sebastian began to initiate some deep breathing, hoping you would follow suit.

After many seconds of doing some deep breathing, you closed your eyes and did your best to relax your body.

“He loves me, doesn’t he?”

Vettel paused, taking his seat beside you.

“Yes. He does.” The German driver answered solemnly.

“And I don’t love him? Isn’t that right?” You glanced around the dry hospital room, smears of bright white and the smell of rubbing alcohol apparent.

“I don’t want him to love me. I don’t deserve it.”

Sebastian Vettel, four time world formula one champion, and one of the most formidable motorsports athletes the world has ever known, was stunned. He remained tight lipped and stoic. In frustration, you threw the notebook onto the floor and put your head in your hands. You weren’t crying, no. But you were exasperated . You could hear beeping as each finger pressed a key in the background. You didn’t know what was what, except what was shown to you: The voice of somebody you used to know.

Sebastian had put the phone on speaker and handed it to you.

“Smidge? Are you okay?”

“Hello? Smidge?”

“Was machst du (What are you doing)?”

“Ich vermisse dich (I miss you).”

Mick’s voice was like the half of you that you didn’t know you needed. It melded perfectly with what you were missing in this dark despair of recent days. His slight German-Swiss accent brought you comfort like you didn’t know you needed. He had picked up the call no matter where he was or what he was doing.

“Komm zurück zu mir (Come back to me).” You could hear Mick let out a strained sigh. He wanted to come back, god did he want to.

“Mickey, please…”

Completely taking you off guard, the line went dead suddenly and you were left with another kind of beeping. You slowly handed the phone back to your almost friend, Sebastian. The former driver could only sigh and sit back in the chair that he had been making his home since Mick left.

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Four Days Later

Your leg was finally out of those ghastly rods and into a softer cast. To think this feeling was heavenly, was something you would have never put on your radar thus far. Soon enough though as the many doctors and nurses came by, you were cleared to go home in the next 24 hours.

“We are glad to see you improving Mrs. Schumacher.” You did your best to make eye contact with the receptionist. “Please let us know if you need anything.”

“Thank you…” You started with caution.

“I’m not Mrs. Schumacher though… If you want to change that for your records or anything…” You tried your best to be nonchalant. The receptionist typed a few bits onto the computer in front of her.

Ushering for you to take a seat in the lobby, you tried your best to not think about the past.

Due to a reason unbeknownst to you, Mick was unavailable to take you home when it came to your releases date. You even braved the scary phone long enough to ask Sebastian if he could be there to take you to the new home Mick set up for you. He wished that he could, but evidently he had something to attend to.

Bravery aside, you sat curbside alone trying to figure out who to call. Your leg was in its soft cast, as you remained waiting for something or someone to come rescue you. You didn’t know where you were, you didn’t know any phone numbers off of the top of your head, and if it could get any worse, you were in England where it was raining.

“You’re going to catch a cold if you stay outside like this.”

Great. Now you’re fucking hearing things. Trying to shake the eerie feeling you had resting on your shoulders, you ignored the voice.

“Let me take you home, huh?” The voice repeated to you.

Your head turned to the left towards the voice. They were leaning against some concrete beam, cigarette almost totally nsmoked as they stepped towards you.

“John?”

“Hello, baby sister.”

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You weren’t sure how you ended up at your brother’s flat in whatever country you were in at the moment. The legalization of Mick being your medical proxy was iron clad….

You never once considered an actual family member to be there for you. And as it were, your big brother had also aged some. You knew it was him immediately though. You could tell because he sort of looked like you, and his voice sounded like the only other voice besides Mick that you knew.

“Are we going back home?” Your brother was doing the dishes as you sat on the couch, your leg elevated to help relieve some swelling.

Again, you repeated the question. You could hear him turning the water off, and see him drying his hands as he turned to face you.

“No, we’re going to stay here for a little while.”

Confusion washed over you once more. Did Mick call your brother because he was unable to pick you up from the hospital? Did Mick even know you were here? All you could do was nod, while your brother excused himself to go lay down. It had been a long day of driving for him from where he came from. You remained in the quiet of your own company for a moment, trying to think of all the possibilities that could have ended up with you being in some strange apartment in a country you hardly knew. Finally, you pulled out your phone that Mick bought for you, and took a deep breath.

You: Hi Mick

…

Mick: Hello, Schätzen! It makes me very happy to see your text.

You: Really?

…

Mick: Yes, really. I would never lie to you.

You: That’s sweet.

…

…

Mick: I am so sorry I cannot be there to bring you home, but I will be there tonight and we can have dinner and watch a movie, if you would like. But, my very good friend Daniel is going to pick you up from the hospital, okay? He should be there shortly, if you just want to wait in the lobby where it is warm and dry.

You reread the message as your heart rate began to hasten. If Mick had already made arrangements for you to get picked up from the hospital… How did your brother find you?

You: Oh. I thought you called John, because he picked me up from the hospital already. A few hours ago, actually. I got released early and thought maybe you called him since you couldn’t get there in time.

Milliseconds after you pressed send on your text, your phone screen lit up brightly in your face.

INCOMING CALL: Mick Schumacher

swipe to accept

Your thumb danced over the bottom of the screen, only to have your desire to hear his voice once again take over your body. Slowly, you accepted the call.

“Schätzen, where are you?” You could hear the panic in his voice. How the fuck were you supposed to know where you were?

“Um… I’m in John’s apartment, I think.” You spoke in a whisper as to not to disturb your resting brother.

“Scheiße, Scheiße, Scheiße (Shit, shit, shit)!”

On the other side of the phone you could hear him getting up and gather his belongings wherever he was. You could pick up bits and pieces of what he was telling someone near him, but not enough to put together a full sentence. You patiently waited on your side of the line for him to speak again. What seemed like forever went by, before he talked to you.

“Can you describe where you are? Can you look outside and see any street names, or building names?” You could tell he was jogging by now.

“I’d have to get up… And my crutches are… On the other side of the room…”

Mick felt absolutely stupid for forgetting that you had a cast on your leg. And he felt even more stupid that he allowed your safety to be compromised… Again. In his defense though, he gave strict instructions to the hospital staff not to allow anyone to take you home besides himself, Sebastian, and Daniel. He even started calling you his Mrs. Schumacher for extra protection, but he’d never tell you that secret.

He was trying as quickly as he could to figure out what the hell went wrong, and how the hell your brother found you. Mick told you he’d have to call you back, but that he promised he would call back in five minutes.

As you waited for him to call back, you decided to try and hobble over to the window. It was gloomy, of course, but you could still see a few things.

House Street

Franklin Street

You decided to text Mick the names of the cross streets, just in case. Glancing around some more through the window, you saw to the far right what looked like a school or a church. You squinted to try and get the name of it.

Longfellow Grade School: Home of The Lions

You also added that to your next text message to Mick, as well as the few models of cars that were sat out on the street. Exhausted now, you hobbled your way back over to the couch and let out all the air you had pent up in your lungs.

INCOMING CALL: Mick Schumacher

swipe to accept

Faster than you did the last time, you accepted the call and raised the phone to your ear.

“Hi Mick, are you okay?”

“The police are on their way, Schätzen. Do not be scared when they arrive, ja? I will be there as fast as I can too. Stay on the line.”

You had a lot of conflicting feelings at this point. Why were the police involved now? Why did Mick sound so afraid? You couldn’t remember the last few years, but now you’re having to deal with all of this? It was as though your body was frozen with a mixture of fear and sadness. You could barely move from your spot on the couch while you anticipated the police’s arrival.

“Okay, Mick. What is going on, though?”

“I will explain everything once I bring you back home, to our home.”

Soon enough, there was a loud knock on the door. You could hear your brother curse loudly from his room as you shrank into the corner of the couch. You were very afraid. Your brother stumbled out of his room, rubbing his eyes as he opened the door to his apartment. One police officer held up a piece of paper to his face, while the other one peered into the space making sure you were alright. The male officer began to speak to your brother about whatever was on the paper, while the female officer approached you with caution.

“Hi, there. My name is Officer Clarkson. Are you alright?” Her voice was calming, and probably the most calming thing about this entire situation. She sat on the couch, keeping a good distance between you.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t know where I am.”

Mick had told the dispatchers that you were in a potentially dangerous situation, and that you had been in a bad car crash a month before resulting in some memory loss. He also told them that you in fact had a restraining order out against your brother, and that he had no clue how he got past the hospital staff.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to know anything right now. I’m just going to sit here with you, while my partner takes care of that young man. Is that alright?” Again, the peaceful cadence of her voice warmed you, and made you feel instantly safe.

“Yes.”

Your head quickly whipped to the side when your brother began yelling at the officer. He was pinned up against the wall, face to it, with his hands behind his back. The male officer handcuffed your brother and escorted him out to the police vehicle. It all happened so fast that you weren’t sure what to make of it. Officer Clarkson said some police speak into her walkie talkie that was on her chest, echoing some of the things being said back to her. She got up from the couch and looked around.

“Can you remember the last time you saw your brother?” You only shook your head in response. Your eyes followed the trail she was walking around the tiny apartment.


After a few more questions that you honestly did not know the answers to, you could hear the radio on her chest go off. The officer grabbed your crutches, and the bag you had at the hospital and escorted you downstairs. There was another police car, an SUV. Two more officers approached you, both women.

“This is Officer Hammond and Officer May. They’re going to drive you home, your real home.”

You thought you might combust trying to keep everyone’s names straight. But you still didn’t have any answers as to why your brother was sitting in the back of a cop car. And as you did so dutifully in the hospital, you did again as you just stood in silence allowing things to be explained to you.

“Your friend Mick - the one who called the us - Will meet you there. Your brother won’t bother you ever again, ma’am.” Officer Clarkson gave a promising smile and nod as she handed your bag to one of the other female officers.


Soon, you were in the backseat of the car as the three of you silently drove to wherever this new place was.

Two hours later, you were woken by Officer May trying coax you out of your sleep. You felt embarrassed for falling asleep, but it seemed like your body needed it. Rubbing your eyes, you looked over the officer’s shoulder to see you were parked in front of a modest one story home. You were in the countryside somewhere, and knowing Mick and his love for the countryside, you could tell that he put a lot of thought into this home. Even if it was going to be temporary, you enjoyed the thought of recovering somewhere private and secluded.

Officer May helped you out of the car and handed you your crutches. The sound of another car hastily pulling up made all three of your head’s turn sharply to the right. In true Mick fashion, he sported a big red truck as he parked in haphazardly. He couldn’t move fast enough though, as he jumped out of the car not even closing the door behind him. Mick ran up to you, his hands frantically searching your face for any wounds. He was rambling in German… Italian… Maybe even French as he brought you into a much needed embrace. He kissed the top of your head and looked at you with nothing but regret.

“Smidge, I am so sorry. I really do not know how this could have happened, but you are safe now. Okay? Completely safe from everything.” Mick profusely thanked the officers, and made a note to call and thank the other officers as well.

Mick helped you inside, before returning to the officers so that he could speak to them about the situation. They assured him that they would look into just how your brother was able to pick you up and take you out of the hospital. He wanted nothing more than answers at this point. (Join the club, right?)

You were still on edge when you heard the door open, your flinching making it clear. Mick walked towards you as cautiously as he could.

“It is just me, Smidge; Just Mick.” He stepped in front of you, his face softened by the sight of you. “I am sorry I scared you.”

“It’s just been a long day…” Mick led you carefully to the couch so that you could sit and rest your leg. Propping your leg up on some pillows, Mick moved to the kitchen to get you some water and some food.

The house was nicely decorated with accents of a familiar shade of red all around. The couch beneath you felt like a marshmallow compared to last couch you were sat on, and the hospital bed you had quite become accustomed to for the last month. Mick returned with a water bottle and a few snacks he might think you would want. Sitting beside you, but keeping a respectful space between you, the blond haired boy rubbed a very tired hand over his face. Leaning his head back onto the back of the couch and stretching out his arms too, he sighed a sigh of relief and closed his eyes. You watched him carefully, and more meticulously than you had in the hospital.

You liked the way his nose was slightly bigger than normal and the way that it curved downwards at the end. You noticed how his darkened blond hair curled ever so slightly at the tips. His lips were a pretty shade of pink too. You wondered if you ever had the pleasure of kissing them. His neck was bigger than you last could remember it to be. Mick’s Adam’s Apple moving up and down as he swallowed, sucking the insides of left side of his mouth. Mick always did that when he was overworked.

“Sind Sie gestresst (Are you stressed)?” Mick just hummed in response, your body relaxing at the familiar sound.

You remember how you reacted when the doctor hummed. Shuddering away that terrible thought, you scooted closer to him.

“Mir wird es gut gehen (I will be okay).” His eyes were still closed as he responded.

You took a beat and took a nice long deep breath. You remember what he had written in his letter. He probably had to leave his work to come find you. And the fact that he did made you feel something you hadn’t felt before - or at least couldn’t remember feeling. This man has always cared for you. Since you were children, he has always put you first and always made sure you were taken care of in every sense of the word. He was the only thing that connected you to your past and all of your lost memories. And surely he knew the weight of it all, yet he didn’t seem to be overwhelmed by it. He would carry the weight of the world on his shoulders if that meant he got to see you happy.

Something in the back of your head was telling you to reject these new feelings, though. You couldn’t tell what it was that was making you want to hide your emotions. The pull was strong. It was like The Force, pulling you into a dark deep alley where you were always meant to be: Alone.

You did your best to shake the distressing thought. Going back to happier things, you recited the letter in your head as you decided to be brave. After all, you didn’t survive a high speed car crash for nothing, right?

Nodding assertively to yourself, you managed to wiggle into Mick’s side. Your leg was still propped up, just now onto the coffee table in front of you. As best as you could and as comfortably too, you tucked yourself into him and his arm wrapped around you as if it were a dance you two had done a million times before. Your eyelids began to feel heavier and heavier as you felt the warmth of his body warm yours. It was not secret that the both of you were dog-tired as neither of you said a word.

The only thing surrounding you now was the sound of rain hitting the roof and someone’s arm wrapped tightly around you. And while you may not have any memories of the last few years, now was as good as time as ever to begin making new ones.

[loveiis]

you tapped your foot against the marble floor to the background music that played in the cafe you worked at. you had just opened a few minutes ago, so it was just sitting around time until a customer walked in.

you leaned on the counter, bored out of your mind. working in a cafe wasn’t your calling, being a journalist was. but yet, here you are. making pumpkin spice lattes for a living.

suddenly, the ring atop of the door rang, and you straightened up.

a man walked in, wearing a white shirt over a longsleeve one, light wash jeans and a patterned beanie. he looked oddly familiar. was this the guy you saw weeks ago?

he smiled at you, walking towards the counter. “long time no see, stranger.” he says.

suddenly it feels like the world stopped around you. he was on your mind ever since he ran into you, this was like a miracle.

and, he still looked as pretty as ever.

“hey, you’re the guy i ran into a few weeks ago, right?” you asked, just to be sure. but obviously you knew this was the guy.

“yeah, its nice to see you again. sorry i left in such a hurry, my brothers were stressed about something.” he leaned his hands on the counter.

“no, it was totally okay. everybody has their things,” you smiled. “sorry, did you want to order?” shaking your head, you realized you forgot to ask him.

“oh yeah. can i have the infamous pumpkin spice latte?” he chuckles. the sound of his laugh just fills your heart.

you nodded, tapping at the kiosk in front of you, putting his order in. “and what’s the name on the order?” you raised an eyebrow, curious of his name, not just because of the drink.

“it’s matt.”

matt. what a nice name.

you smiled and nodded, grabbing a cup before turning your back to him, making the drink. while you make it, he swipes his card to pay for the drink.

you finished the drink, returning to the counter to grab a sharpie and writing ‘MATT’ on the cup.

“here’s your drink, matt.” you smiled, holding out the cup to him. he took the drink, your fingers brushing against his.

“thank you. what’s your name, then?” he queried. you giggled, then told him your name.

“pretty name for a pretty girl. i’ll see you around, right?” matt clarified.

“of course. hope to see you on my next shift.” you grinned, leaning on the counter.

it wasn’t that much of a reach to say that, right? he probably wants to see you again too.. maybe.

“oh, you definitely will.” he laughed before opening the door, the bell ringing again as he walked out.

you watched him walk away through the windows of the cafe, a sliver of hope that he would turn around and come back.

but when you were met by the sounds of the music on the speakers and the whirring of some of the machines, you sighed.

why would he come back for you, anyways? you’re just some girl he ran into a few weeks ago. he probably doesn’t think of you that way.

but, he said you and your name were pretty.

you smiled to yourself, humming to the tune of the music.

part 2 of my little intro. still running with this story lol.

divider by: @/saradika-graphics

wc: 550 words, 2,914 characters.