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kpopsexstories · 1 day ago

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NCT 127 Dating Ban #3: Doyoung Pt. 1

NCT 127 can’t date girls. As their gay friend you help them out with their sexual needs.

This is a 100% gay smut story. Check out this post for my straight smut and this post for more gay smut.

Pairing: NCT Doyoung x Jisung (Haechan & Johnny)

Story: When you return to the 127 dorm you accidentally walk in on Doyoung having sex – and you can't believe who he's doing it with!

Type of Sex: MEDIUM

Word Count: 3.5k

<- Start from the beginning: Story #1: Haechan

Want more stories like these? Also read the NCT Dream Dating Ban series which takes place before the 127 series.

You wake up with a slight hangover. Haechan is laying naked beside you, gently snoozing in broad daylight. How much did we drink last night? you wonder.

Too much. But not so much that you can't remember. You smile wide to yourself as you observe the adorable man, and recall what you did to each other behind closed doors. His dick has already been inside you multiple times and it's only your second day.

Your first night at the 127 dorm was fun, and you're glad your months of sexting with Haechan has led to this.

“Hey,” you say and smile when the man eventually opens his eyes.

“Hey,” Haechan says and yawns, and stretches his bare torso. The duvet slides down his body and you lay a hand on his tummy.

He rolls into your arm and you kiss. “I'm so glad you're finally here,” he whispers, and he genuinely means it. “I haven't had any pussy in so fucking long.”

He rolls his eyes and exaggerates the expression of someone who's been subjected of a horrible wrong.

“Can't help you with that,” you say and chuckle.

Haechan's face becomes serious as he suddenly stares at you. “Oh, yes you can,” he says and smirks.

You smile back at him and let your hand glide down his stomach and under the sheets. “Mm!” you exclaim and playfully raise your eyebrows, but it's really just for pretend. You're not surprised at all by the state of his dick when you feel it.

Haechan doesn't respond to your reaction. He just keeps presenting his dumb smirk. Then he closes his eyes and moans when you wrap your fingers around his morning wood and begin to jerk him off.

“Aren't we late to do your city thing though?” you ask, partly as a way to tease him.

“It can wait,” he says and you both giggle.

“Hey, get up!” Johnny suddenly orders, when he barges into the room with a big smile on his face. You attempt to cover your bare chest but he abruptly pulls the duvet off your body.

“Oh,” he says and the smile goes away, when he sees that you're both naked and that you have your hand around Haechan's hard shaft. “Sorry.”

As if he actually expected you to be clothed. Of course he didn't. And Haechan doesn't seem at all bothered.

But not amused either. “What do you want?” he asks without even a hint of a smile.

Johnny crosses his arms and glares at your naked body while he speaks, studying it with satisfaction written all over your face. “It's a beautiful day and you're still in bed. Get out, enjoy the city.”

As if he cares what you and Haechan do with your time. You figure he only came here to expose you like this, maybe a weird way to satisfy his own sexual needs. It must be the fact that he watched you have sex before, or maybe he's still a little drunk, that makes him think he can behave in this way toward Haechan and yourself, his guest.

If this was twenty-four hours ago it might have bothered you, or at the very least confused you. Now your only confusion is how the man can be so damn energetic.

Johnny sits down on the bed besides you. He keeps looking up and down your body and puts a hand on your thigh, moving it slowly up and down as if to assess the fabric of a nice jacket.

“What's it to you?” Haechan asks, while leaning on his elbows and spreading his legs. “You're not coming.”

“I know,” Johnny says and winks at you. Your hand is still gripping Haechan's hard dick. “I really just wanted to thank you.”

“For what?” Haechan asks.

Johnny winks at you again. “For being so loud last night.”

That's it, he definitely just came here to check you out. If he was actually complaining he wouldn't be so cheerful and flirty. He wants you to know that he heard your drunken sex, and the reason is because he enjoyed it. You feel very sure of it.

“Johnny…?” Haechan says when your eyes and Johnny's are locked for a little too long.

“Yeah…?”

Haechan laughs and kicks the man in the gut. “Get the fuck out!”

“Alright, alright,” Johnny says and takes his hand off your leg. He stands up and suddenly swirls around, then turns and winks at you one last time before he looks at Haechan. “I guess I'll go see Winwin then.”

Finally he leaves just as quickly as he came, and leaves the door wide open. You and Haechan look at each other and start to giggle. Your fingers tighten and Haechan moans, but the morning wood is gone and the moment has passed.

“He's right, we should go,” Haechan says and jumps down on the bed. His slack dick was starting to get hard again but it slips away from your hand and you let it go.

You can't stop smiling. Mmm, you think to yourself, having realized that you might actually have a shot at a third member.

*****

On this second day you return to the dorm in the afternoon. You've spent a couple of hours with Haechan, together just the two of you, seeing some sights and his favorite spots. But you're both tired and agreed to cut the tour of Seoul short.

It's the first time you've been on your own like this with Haechan, despite having known the man for years. It turns out you actually get along really well, a big relief considering you're with him for a whole week.

“Fuck, I forgot the condoms!” Haechan exclaims just as you press the button of the elevator.

“Do we need them?” you ask and smirk. You know you should, but it's not like you've been using any so far.

“They're not for us,” Haechan says and laughs. “Doyoung asked me to get some.”

“Why? He's got a girlfriend or something? Doesn’t the dating ban apply to him?”

“It does. You go ahead, I'll tell you about it later.”

“Okay,” you say when the elevator doors open and Haechan puts a set of keys in your hand. Then you go your separate ways.

On the ride up you wonder if anyone will be home, or if you'll be alone in the dorm for the first time. The 127 team are still working after all, while the Dream team are on a break.

You put a key in the lock and go inside. The apartment is quiet. You throw the backpack you've been carrying on the floor by the couch, then make your way toward one of the bathrooms.

The bag is holding a couple of souvenirs, and some photos of you and Haechan which you jokingly took in a booth. Your bladder is holding a lot of water and alcohol from last night. It's been a hot day and you haven't peed since you left home.

And your balls, they're holding a lot of cum. You've been thinking about sex all day, since Johnny so rudely but quite intriguingly interrupted your morning.

As fun as you've had on your excursion you've been wondering what kind of guy Haechan really is, and whether you could have asked him for a quickie somewhere in the street. And if you'll have sex again tonight, which is likely, what will you do to each other.

The unexpected and secretive adventure with Jungwoo last night has also lingered on your mind. When you think about it, it was kind of hot despite – or maybe because of – how rushed and secretive it was.

You wonder if either of the two men have told the other about you. And you've been thinking a lot about the others too. You already know that Yuta and Taeyong are gay, and Johnny certainly seems interested.

But do they really need your help? Do they even want it? Or is this just your own desires and starstruck mind acting out some weird, crazy fantasy? Obviously it must be latter.

It doesn’t matter, because your balls are about to burst and you need a release. But as you head for the bathroom you decide not to do anything about it just yet. If you really are home alone you should wait for Haechan. Hopefully you'll have time to finish what you started this morning before the others get back.

You suddenly stop in your tracks in the hallway. Your ears shoot up and your senses are put on high alert. What's that?

There's a sound, coming from further down the hall. You've yet to learn who lives where, but even if you did know you're not sure which room the sound is coming from.

“Thump, thump, thump.” The sound grows louder as you follow it, instinctively walking on light steps.

“Squeak, squeak, mmm, yeah.”

What the hell? you think. Is that…

A door at the end of the hall is partially open. You push on it to peek inside, too caught up by curiosity to think that you shouldn't.

“Thump, thump, squeak, squeak, mm, yeah Doyoung. Squeak, squeak, yes, yes, oh yeah, yeah, yeah!”

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Doyoung suddenly exclaims loudly. The intense thumping and rhythmic squeaking of his bouncing mattress abruptly stops.

You know you should apologize quickly and run away. You know you should have made your presence clear long before you got to the room, when it became fairly obvious what the sounds were. You know you shouldn’t have lingered to watch, and you know that this must be as embarrassing for Doyoung – a man you don't even know yet – as it is shocking to you.

But you can't tear yourself away. You can't stop staring, with wide eyes and your mouth open, at the sight you've just walked in on. Your suspicions when you heard the voice were correct, and that's what has surprised you so.

Doyoung is seated on the edge of the bed, butt naked and in the midst of a passionate fuck. In his lap he's holding a slim figure around the waist. The figure has his legs wrapped around Doyoung's sides while riding the man's cock.

The lovers are frozen in place. Jisung stares blankly and surprised back at you. “Hi,” you say, still in shock. You thought you knew the voice but it’s like your brain didn’t want to believe it.

“Hi,” Jisung says. He finally manages to smile once he realizes what’s going on and who he’s looking at. “Oh my God, hi! What the hell are you doing here?”

Doyoung looks more confused than anyone. He stares at Jisung's face, then at yours. “Wait…” he says. ”Do you guys know each other?”

“Yes!” Jisung exclaims with an enormous grin on his face. ”He's my best friend!”

“Holy shit!” Doyoung blurts out. He immediately turns to look at you. “Are you the friend?”

You're not quite sure what he means, but you have a strong idea. “Yeah, I guess,” you say and smile faintly.

“Oh my God! Why hasn't Haechan said anything?” He turns to look at Jisung, his eyes fiery. For a second you think he's angry, he certainly sounds like it. ”Why haven't you said anything?”

“I had no idea!” Jisung admits to defend himself. He repeats his previous question: “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Haechan invited me,” you say, still smiling in an effort to make the fact appear casual, like it's no big deal.

“When?” Jisung asks and begins to slowly rock his hips, for the first time since you interrupted the sex he's in the middle of.

“Ehm, I don't know,” you lie. ”Not that long ago.”

There aren't any secrets between you and Jisung. You're not even sure why you're lying in this moment. You've known each other forever, but you must admit you feel pretty bad about not having told him you would come.

Jisung, however, is suddenly giddy with excitement. His body starts jumping up and down in Doyoung's lap while he keeps bombarding you with questions.

“Why haven't you said anything?” he asks.

“I was going to surprise you.”

“When did you get here?”

“Yesterday afternoon.”

Jisung's body jolts and his face suddenly turns serious. “You've been here for a full day? And you still haven't come to say hi?”

You realize how bad this looks. “Okay look, I was going to, but Haechan planned a full day today.”

“You slept away half of it,” Doyoung points out. He doesn't look at all happy when he says it which gives you a bad vibe.

“I literally live a floor down!”

“I know,” you say and smirk. You've been there many times over the years, and last time was quite a memorable visit. “I swear, I had this whole thing planned out. I was going to surprise you and it would be this big moment.”

As if this isn't a big moment too. Exactly what the surprise you had in mind was is not something you're willing to reveal in front of Doyoung. But you had this idea that you'd lay naked on Jisung's bed when he got home.

Jisung's naked body jolts again. “I can't believe this!” He looks happy and jumps up and down, arms around Doyoung, when he turns to face his current lover and excitedly asks: “Can you believe it?”

Doyoung shakes his head but doesn't speak, a strained expression on his face. This must be such a surreal moment for him.

You finally begin to relax. You stand in the doorway and casually lean against the frame.

“I didn't know you had time off though,” you say and cross your arms. “Haechan told me yesterday and it made me super worried.”

“Yeah, I'm going to see my parents. Damn, now I kind of wish I wasn't.”

He stops moving for a moment and his expression changes, but then he becomes giddy and jumpy again. His heart is genuinely full of joy and excitement. “I'm just so happy you're here! And I'm glad I get to see you today. Don't worry, you'll have fun with Haechan too.”

“How are they anyway, your parents?” you ask, casually making smalltalk. ”I don't think I've seen them in, what, two-three years?”

Jisung instinctively rolls his hips, as if your presence is no reason to leave Doyoung hanging.

“They're good,” he says. ”But I don't want to talk about them. I can't belive you're here! You're the last person I'd expect to walk through that door. I'm so happy!”

You chuckle at his youthful joy, and the way his ass bounces on Doyoung's lap. It makes you feel really good to see him this happy. You've been so consumed with making new friends that you haven't considered that you should of course have just gone to see your best friend straight away.

Perhaps you've also been worried, about what he might think of the fact that you've come for Haechan and not him. It's not like there's anything more than friendship and sex between you and Jisung, and he hasn't been bothered by you having sex with his friends in the past.

But that was then, and he was always somewhere around. It was his bed you always returned to at night.

It suddenly dawns on you that you already have seven friends in the city, if you count the whole Dream team, and that you've neglected all of them. Haechan is just one of several. The fact that you haven't told them of your visit certainly isn't good.

But deep down you always knew, if you didn't get along with the 127 guys, salvation would be just one flight of stairs away. You kind of took that for granted.

“Where are you staying?” Jisung asks and rolls his hips again. “Will you come stay with me?”

“Actually, about that…”

“Uughmmph!” Doyoung suddenly calls out. You both turn to look at him curiously. His eyes are closed and his whole body shivers. “Ahh, fuuck!”

Jisung bursts out in a big smile, and quickly starts to roll his hips faster over his lover's crotch, like he was when you walked in.

But Doyoung has already come, and now he squeezes your friend’s waist hard to lift him off his dick which suddenly can't take anymore.

You realize that they haven't just been naked in each other's arms this whole time, and that it's totally weird that you're still in the room.

Jisung laughs out loud when he stands up to climb off his lover. “Did you just come?” he asks excitedly.

“Mm, yeah,” Doyoung moans. His hand glides down Jisung's bare thigh, and he reaches down to nurture his spent dick. He suddenly smiles wide while he removes the condom. “Yeah, I did. Fuck… you're incredible!”

You feel three things in this moment. Proud, because it's only six months ago that you took Jisung's same sex virginity. He was a very different lover back then, compared to the confident power bottom you just witnessed today.

Relieved, because neither Jisung nor Doyoung seem at all ashamed by any of this. Despite Doyoung's angry reaction earlier, when you first entered the room, he now appears happy and casual as he stands up, ties the condom together, and tosses it in a bin in the corner of the room.

And finally curious, about two things: the nature and depth of Jisung's relationship with Doyoung, and the novelty of seeing Doyoung's full body in the nude.

The man is kind of hot, you think. Well done Jisung.

As hot as Jisung looks when he stands naked and smiling in the middle of the room, Doyoung has something new and exciting to offer. It's only now that you realize that you're incredibly hard, and that you probably have been this whole time.

Jisung realizes it too, when he abruptly comes rushing toward you to give you a warm embrace. “Hi,” he says again, as you hold each other close and hug.

“Hi,” you say happily and hold your nude friend tight.

You want to apologize, but your reunion is interrupted when a voice calls from the living room. “I'm back,” it announces. Haechan has returned.

“I should go,” you say and let go of Jisung, suddenly feeling worried again. You figure Doyoung and Jisung won't want to get caught. “I'll divert him.”

“No, stay,” Jisung pleads and goes back to the bed, where he crawls on top of it and reaches down for his clothes on the floor on the other side.

You glance at his ass when he bends over. Doyoung can't stop staring at you while you check out his lover. When you notice his glaring eyes and serious expression, you quickly peek outside to look away, and see Haechan fast approaching.

“It's okay,” Doyoung says, as if he can tell that your mind is trying to work out what to do. He goes to sit beside Jisung and proudly puts an arm around the man. “He knows.”

Haechan catches up with you before you decide if you should divert him or invite him in.

“Hey,” he says cheerfully to Doyoung and Jisung on the bed. “Here you go.”

He tosses a box to Doyoung, who grabs it mid air and smiles. “Thanks,” he says and puts it on a bedside table, before he lies down on his back completely exposed.

You can't help but stare at his sexy body. You study his long torso and still half hard dick. Haechan, however, doesn't even stay.

“Sorry, I should have told you,” he says and smiles at you in passing, then goes back into the hallway.

Jisung is sitting on the bed when he puts his hoodie back on. “So,” he says slowly. “My plane is actually tonight.”

Your heart suddenly sinks. You've just gotten excited about him being here, about the idea of combining getting to know new friends with spending time with old ones.

“Oh,” you say, somewhat disappointed. “How long will you be gone for?”

He stands up to put on his pants. “I don't know. Maybe I'll cut my trip short now that you're here.” Then he turns to Doyoung. “Thanks,” he says and gives the man a quick peck on the lips.

“I didn't even make you come,” Doyoung points out. He seems a little surprised.

“It's okay,” Jisung says and winks at you. ”I've got him for that.”

Then he walks by you and takes your hand. You smile at Doyoung, before Jisung yanks your arm and you both disappear into the hallway.

Doyoung is left naked and alone on the bed. He may be empty and sexually satisfied, but in this moment his heart is hollow and broken.

The Dating Ban series now takes a break. Let me know what you think so far and your wishes and desires as I write the next few stories 🙂

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reginadeltrash · 2 days ago

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New AU just dropped in my mind but I can't take care of it now cause I have two multi chapters I'm working on, so I'm gonna info dump about it for a little while!

So, Gorgon Annabeth! My idea is basically that in this version of the story Athena gets quite pissed that Frederick isn't treating Annabeth as the gift she perceives her as so when a little bit of Minerva leaks through she ends up cursing Annabeth to teach her father a lesson.

And now 6 years old Annabeth is very confused on what the hell is happening to her, and she's starting to grow scales over her body, but when she complains to her father about it he just brings her to the doctor and either The Mist covers the situation by making it seems like she has a rash or growing scales just looks like that on its own (still unsure about that) and so she isn't belived by anyone.

And then she starts sprouting fangs, her hair are slowly being replaced by snakes and by that point she is sure that her father is purposefully ignoring the situation and she's rightfully very mad about it and so she runs away.

Fate wants it that while navigating through the woods Annabeth ends up meeting a little someone (Yes, she meets Medusa) who immediately adopts her, like on the spot, she's like "Cool, looks like we have another victim of Minerva here, let me just...ops did I just become a mother figure to her...?"

And so Annabeth never actually goes to camp in this version (not until later, at least) and she's just the weird girl that lives in the woods with the weird lady that has that statues emporium.

Also she doesn't have her invisibility cap here, because Athena is too ashamed to meddle into Annabeth's life anymore, but to balance it out she gets a veiled cap by Medusa, because yes, she also has the petrifying stare (A later gift from Athena, because gifting your daughter you cursed a magical power is easier than saying sorry)

Also, yes, I find the idea of Percy 'Perseus' Jackson dating a Gorgon very funny.

And also because this Annabeth is like ten times more unhinged and low-key feral by the time of their first quest.

Also for no other reason than it's funny Annabeth doesn't have normal snakes for hair but this specific kind and she still keeps them in a ponytail that she puts inside the back of her veiled cap

And so yes, that's basically it, if you have questions or options my inbox is open and I would really like to talk about this AU cause it's consuming my brain but I don't really have the time to write seriously about it!

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #pjo series #pjo hoo toa #pjo annabeth #annabeth chase #medusa #pjo athena #pjo minerva #alternate universe #au #percy jackson au

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broidobe · 2 days ago

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𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔠𝔥

requested!

☾being in a relationship with all four members of mayhem is… an experience, to say the least. between pelle's unsettling habits, euronymous’ ego, hellhammer’s weird sense of humor, and necrobutcher just trying to keep some sanity in the house, you’ve got your hands full☽

☾warnings: dark humor, mentions of blood/gore (it’s mayhem, come on), slight possessiveness, chaotic poly dynamics, and some surprisingly soft moments☽

𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 ᡣ𐭩 𝓪𝓯𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱 𝜗𝜚 𝓱𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱��𝓷

⁎⁺˳✧༚black metal masterlist

living with mayhem is like existing in a never-ending fever dream. there is no normal here—only varying degrees of what the fuck.

euronymous likes to act like he’s in charge, walking around the apartment like he’s some kind of black metal warlord, but the second you sit on his lap or kiss his cheek, his whole act crumbles.

“hmpf,” he grumbles, trying (and failing) to keep up the cold exterior. “you’re distracting me.”

you lean in closer, lips grazing his ear. “good.”

his face burns. he refuses to acknowledge it.

but oh, he loves when you praise him. tell him he’s the most brilliant guitarist in norway? suddenly, you’ve got a smug, insufferable euronymous hanging all over you for the rest of the day, hand possessively on your waist.

“of course i am,” he mutters, but the way he melts under your touch says otherwise.

then there’s dead. sweet, unsettling dead.

he’s a little too fascinated with death, but that’s not exactly a surprise. you’ve woken up more than once to find him staring at you like he’s making sure you’re still breathing.

“…do you ever think about being buried alive?” he asks, completely serious.

you blink. “no, pelle. i really don’t.”

he nods like he respects your choice, but he definitely does. he’s oddly soft with you, though, despite all the disturbing things he says. he loves when you play with his hair, sighing quietly as he lays his head in your lap.

sometimes, after a show, he comes home covered in blood—his blood, or sometimes something more questionable. you just sigh and grab a towel.

“this is the last time i’m cleaning blood off you,” you lie.

he only smiles. you both know you’ll do it again.

hellhammer? absolute menace. no shame, no filter. the things that come out of his mouth make euronymous cringe sometimes.

he thinks it’s hilarious to tease you.

“so, what’s it like dating norway’s most dangerous band?” he grins, stretching out on the couch like a cat.

you roll your eyes. “more like babysitting norway’s most dysfunctional band.”

he actually cackles. “fair enough.”

despite his attitude, he’s surprisingly affectionate. always slinging an arm around you, pulling you into his lap just to annoy euronymous. he loves roughhousing, too—he’ll playfully wrestle you just for an excuse to pin you down.

and necrobutcher? the only semi-responsible one. he’s the closest thing to a voice of reason, but even he has his limits.

“are you seriously burning more church photos in the living room?” he groans, rubbing his temples.

euronymous just shrugs. “it’s for the aesthetic.”

necrobutcher turns to you. “you’re the sane one. please, talk some sense into them.”

but at this point? you’ve just accepted the madness. you give him a helpless shrug.

“…you know what? fine. fuck it.” he throws his hands up. “i give up.”

out of all of them, necrobutcher is the one who actually makes sure you eat, drink water, and don’t lose your mind in all the chaos. he’ll throw a jacket over your shoulders if you’re cold, mumbling something about you catching a cold.

he acts like he’s above all the nonsense, but if you grab his face and kiss him, he’s gone. absolutely weak for you.

“you’re terrible,” he mutters, but his ears are pink, and he’s holding onto your waist like he never wants to let go.

dating all four of them means there’s never a dull moment. nights spent tangled together after shows, late-night debates over who’s the most true black metal, and an endless supply of chaos.

and somehow? you wouldn’t change a thing.

#broidobe #norwegian black metal #pelle mayhem #mayhem band #hellhammer mayhem #dead mayhem #mayhem #pelle ohlin x reader #pelle ohlin #oystein aarseth #euronymous x reader #euronymous mayhem #necrobutcher #hellhammer

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thiniceofeternalyouth · 22 hours ago

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MISLEADIN' ME SERIES: CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

AISHITERU

⊳ Gojo Satoru x f!reader

series masterlist

Genre: angst, fluff, sci-fi, cosmology.

Words count: ~13.1k

�� previous

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.

And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.

If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant

or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful;

it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth.

Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away. < ...>

Bible. St. Paul's Epistle to the Corinthians 1:13.

The sky was covered with terry, leaden clouds. They loomed over your head - you could see them trying to crush you through the glass walls of the greenhouse. Lightning flashed somewhere in the distance, and then there was a rumble of thunder as the wind, carrying the freshness of the approaching downpour, blew the door open.

You stood frozen with the pruning shears in your hand, staring shamelessly into the distance as the lightning danced amongst themselves, oblivious to the fact that it was coming at Hopetown. You were jolted awake when thunder roared like a wild beast over the greenhouse, the first raindrops slowly drumming against the roof in warning.

It was always like that. It didn't make any difference whether it was the sweltering heat, the scorching sun, or the cold rain choking the neighborhood, but once a year, on this very day, you always stood in that greenhouse and cut flowers for the bouquet for Shaya's grave.

Frank loved his plants. Whether it was the vegetable garden or the greenhouse, he always did it himself, but this was the day you had to take care of your father. It was as if he was separated from the world - he didn't eat, didn't drink, didn't talk much, and as soon as you handed him the flowers, Frank would put on a suit and spend the rest of the time until midnight at his wife's grave, talking to her about something - you never dared get close enough to hear what it was.

You've been watching him from afar the whole time. He probably felt an immense amount of regret - if he hadn't chosen this job, Shaya would probably still be alive, but it also cut off the possibility of their first meeting.

After all, she just loved flowers - that's probably why Frank became just preoccupied with vegetation after her death, and you were standing here now, cutting the prettiest flowers for his date.

As you reached for a lily stem to cut it, you heard footsteps over the sound of the pouring rain, and you looked back to see Nathaniel coming into the greenhouse, drenched to the skin. You nodded softly in greeting - he nodded back, and you couldn't help but notice the brief but questioning look he gave you as he looked at the basket of flowers at your feet. "Uh... Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked uncertainly, stepping closer and examining the flowers. It looked like he was too uncomfortable with the idleness, even though you had pulled him out of the void only a week ago - Doc had tried his best, but the huge burn marks were still seeping through the new skin, affecting his shoulder, part of his face, and Nathaniel's scalp - he'd even had to shave his head to keep from looking too weird.

"Ya should get more rest," you cut off softly.

"I'm ready to climb the wall from this kind of rest," he grinned bitterly, taking a seat on a small stool that stood nearby in case of a brief respite.

"Just a little longer," you sighed understandingly, and turned to him, crossing your arms over your chest, stroking the blunt side of the pruning shears with your thumb. "We'll get ya fully healed first, and then Doc..."

"That's what I came to talk about," he interrupted you carefully, and you raised your eyebrows questioningly, waiting for him to continue. "I'd like to stay here. I don't mean Hopetown," he blurted quickly. "I mean among the hunters. I'd like to do that, too."

You watched the man's figure literally shrink under your appraising gaze as you slowly examined him from head to toe, then looked him straight in the eye. On the one hand, you understood his impulse - he was looking for justice, if not revenge, after all the torment he'd suffered in the void, but on the other hand, he was too slim and frail. It wasn't malnutrition or dehydration at all - he was just naturally that way, no matter how much he ate. "As ya wish," he exhaled in relief, though he didn't hear the approval in your voice. "Ya won't become a voidrunner, though. Ya'll have to find other ways," he nodded understandingly and directed a confused look to the floor. He knew he looked weak, but he hoped the fire in his eyes was enough to convince you.

You turned away from Nathaniel and began cutting the leaves off the stems of the flowers that were destined to lie on the grave next to the beloved's name. In the looming darkness, the man had goosebumps running down his spine every time a flash of lightning clearly and sharply illuminated the profile of your features - your movements were deft but fluid, and he remembered and felt who you really were. Before his eyes was still your blackened face that he saw in the void.

"So...," he began uncertainly, interlacing his fingers awkwardly. "Do you have a celebration coming up? So many flowers..."

You were beginning to get the impression that he'd been a true blue-blood aristocrat in his previous life before the void - even in this vulnerable position, he made an effort to make small talk. But there was something else behind his mannerisms - at his back you caught a curious glance, as if he was trying to make sure what he saw in the void was true. "The anniversary of Frank's wife's death," you replied calmly.

As prepared as you were for that reaction, Nathaniel was stunned just as much. He opened and closed his mouth, trying to find the right words, but no words came to him at all. "So that's why I've never seen her...," he muttered, his eyes lowering in embarrassment - he had no one to hide from, your back was turned to him, but the eyes of conscience were right there.

"Oh, come on," you waved it away. "That mournful tone doesn't suit ya."

You admired the beautiful lily for a moment, and with a quiet clang you cut off its stem, but you did not hurry to put it in the basket - you turned it slowly in your hands, stroking the delicate petals with your fingers, and then grinned bitterly. "It's kinda funny," you said quietly. "All the flowers in this greenhouse are destined for the same fate one way or another - to lie near the grave. Frank even spent a few years for selection - Shaya loved the white flowers. And now, every time I come in here...," you looked around in amazement, as if you were here for the first time, amidst the sweet and fresh scent that the flowers gave off. "It feels like I'm in paradise," now the man looked around with you - it was as if you were in the middle of an endless field that glowed with the art of nature. "What ya think?" you asked in a low voice, not turning to look at him, but feeling the emptiness of his gaze - Nathaniel, lost in his thoughts, lost in the winds of fate, could only manage to say one word.

"Yeah...," he barely audibly exhaled, and your face darkened.

Right above your heads, the thunder roared so loudly that the glass greenhouse shook. You could almost feel the downpour slamming into your face with renewed force. "Go inside quickly," you said sharply, and the man involuntarily shivered. Nodding goodbye, he wrapped his arms around himself and walked out the door. You turned around, seeing his silhouette disappearing behind the wall of rain with a cold, determined look, and then threw a delicate, defenseless lily of light pink color into the basket.

Nathaniel had never considered himself cruel or ferocious, much less inhuman - having lived among humans for thousands of years, he had once stopped feeling like a monster altogether.

No living creature on this planet could understand him - none of them knew what it was like to wander the fringes of the universe, lost in the stellar winds, not even knowing where home was or if it had ever been. He had come to Earth by accident - a once off course had literally dropped him here, forcing him to face a new life form, and by obeying the laws of nature, he had to adapt. As selfish as it was, Nathaniel - that's what it called itself - didn't want to return to the wastes of space and wander around, unaware of himself and his soul for another few billion years. So he decided to stay here, in the place where there was life.

At first, Nathaniel didn't realize what was happening to him - he wasn't aware that his nature had split into a thousand pieces when he first encountered the human. He'd been too stunned - that was when he'd first learned what it felt like to be 'breathtaking'; when there was a strange feeling somewhere deep in his face - sometimes it made him cringe in disgust and sometimes it fascinated him, so much so that his stomach rumbled, and all these strange surfaces that surrounded him were completely different under his palm: rough, smooth, warm, soft, even sharp - when he first saw blood on his hand after a brief, painful sensation, he was scared out of his wits. The novelty of it had so overwhelmed him that he hadn't felt the weakness of his own disintegration - he was learning to live as a man, and he had not yet realized that he had already killed one, taking his body to become alike.

Nathaniel had been watching humans from afar for a long time - they seemed quaint to him as they slammed hard things against each other, tried to get orange hot waves, and they were cruel in his eyes as they killed creatures that didn't look like them and then ate them. He had long hesitated to come out of the shadows and lived like a hermit, studying all human habits before coming out into the light. He spent a long time eavesdropping, studying and analyzing the speech that changed from century to century, and its peculiarities depended on the place where he was.

There were only three tragic days in Nathaniel's life, the memories of which he carried with him forever.

Of course, he knew at once that something was wrong. The terrible hunger that he sometimes felt could not be satisfied by any berry or meat and blood of an animal - he suffered for a long time, trying to find the cause and put an end to it, but one day, the first and darkest day of his human life happened when he woke up and the first thing he saw was blood on his hands, and beside him lay the fresh remains of a man. The bones were still wet with drool and blood, and Nathaniel howled loudly as he tried to put the human back together, not yet realizing that it was impossible to do so.

No matter how much he tried to distance himself from human souls, he still found himself near them sooner or later. When he was alone, his heart was so empty that even this existence was a burden. He settled on the edge of a village - he never let anyone into his house, never spoke to anyone, and rumors spread through the village that a dark shaman had taken up residence in the outermost house.

Sometimes there were knocks on his door, voices begging for help - to make it rain in a drought or to heal a loved one - and sometimes Nathaniel gave in. He would open the door and take some human blood in payment - mysterious rumors spread through the village that it was all for a ritual. Miracles worked: people frolicked in the rain with their suddenly recovered loved ones, and Nathaniel looked sadly through the curtain at the window, wishing he were among them, carefree and happy.

Being a prisoner on this Earth, in this house, he had nothing to do but watch. Sometimes he caught a glimpse of the enchanted glow of the light-blond hair, and then he leaned closely against the window, and when that light dissolved around the corner, he jumped away in fear, clutching his chest not understanding why the organ pumping blood was behaving so strangely - then he thought for the first time that this must be how people die.

Once he'd seen the glint of that hair right in his doorway - he'd looked down at that girl with one eye while the rest of his face was hidden in darkness. He didn't show it in any way, but he was terrified of feeling like he was softly melting from the inside. The girl was trembling, clutching something in her outstretched palms - looking her over from head to toe, Nathaniel's heart sank again when he saw that the girl was covered in tiny scratches. Gritting his teeth, he opened the door wider, silently inviting her in.

It turned out that she had brought a baby bird - it was barely moving, even refusing to drink. Sighing, Nathaniel sat down beside the girl, and she gently handed him the bird - the man shuddered when their hands almost touched. He was amazed - despite her own condition, the girl was worried not for herself, but for the poor little creature, and those emotions were new to Nathaniel, and he wanted to know more about the human world.

He grinned sadly, seeing the fear that flashed across the girl's face when she saw the dark streaks that spread across his fingers, but the terror and fear were not meant to last; she brightened when he opened his hands. In them sat, chirping merrily, a bird filled with life. It hopped lightly and flew out through the ajar window, but to Nathaniel's surprise and new feeling, the girl stayed.

He had a friend for the first time. Nathaniel was still wary of her, but the girl continued to visit him every day, ignoring the whispers in the village that the wicked wizard was in the midst of a black love affair, some even daring to say aloud that he was making a sacrifice to his God.

More and more often she brought him gifts - raspberry jam, fruit, gingerbread, freshly baked raisin buns - and he ate each one gratefully, sharing everything equally with her. She lured Nathaniel out of his house for the first time and showed him her world - how the thick fog cleared in the morning over the vast field, how delicious the dew was that the rain left behind at rowan dawn, and how the fireflies that looked so much like stars chirped at night.

Sometimes the girl looked at Nathaniel intently and tenderly, and he, not knowing what to do, began to think he was dying again. But every love had its fate - it came upon them abruptly, and the sudden pain made tears flow from Nathaniel's eyes. The first time she tried to touch him and kiss him, the girl's soul died - Nathaniel watched helplessly as her eyes, still alive but black, stared back at him. He'd lost his friend, but he'd gained new strength - with that death he felt something inside him, as if a link had been added to a tiny chain.

What was left of that girl began to follow Nathaniel, obeying his every command. There were no eyes of conscience for sorrow, no voice of reason for grief - one day, the whole village was turned into demons by Nathaniel's hands, saturating him with power.

He still did not consider himself cruel - he did everything for survival. But as the lands drowned in blood not from wars but from the ravenous hunger of his dark, black particles, he came to his senses, realizing his deeds - dioreacts had become too many. They were like separated individual human emotions, and he could no longer control those in whom only thirst and desire to absorb and subjugate were concentrated. He created a world for these demons that was so similar to the human one, but Nathaniel could not fully replicate the fine-tuning of the universe for Earth, no matter how hard he tried, but he hoped they could find a home there.

Nathaniel used to stay close to the hunters, even helping them when the demons were out of control, but he also kept the hunters out of the way and covered demons' tracks so they couldn't eliminate all parts of him - he didn't want to lose his powers. Once he had caught and brought the world into the finest balance, he stepped aside, hiding among the shadows so that people would forget his face.

The third tragic day came when humans entered his created world a few years ago.

Still sitting in the dark corner, Nathaniel suspected that sooner or later humans would get there - if not on their own, then the evolution he had watched for so long would deal with it. Seeing you in the void for the first time sent a thrill of awe and a sense of admiration through him - you weren't just a person, you were a part of him that Nathaniel had never had before. But as much as he wanted to keep you, he had to get rid of you as soon as possible - you were too much trouble and danger to his existence, and he had to throw off the veil of mystery he once had and go out into the human world again.

Nathaniel was never a monster, he just wanted to live, too.

Nathaniel stood a few feet away from you and watched silently as the cold, soft snow fell from the sky onto your back - he was leaning against a tree, breathing hard and clutching at his heart. The moment you collapsed face-first into the snow, he felt like his soul had been ripped out by the root. Every time the hunters broke his chain, destroying the links, his mouth would bleed, his insides would burn, his mind would melt. You were no longer moving, the hilt of his blade still sticking out of your back, and under your motionless body the blood trickled out in thin streams, pooling and spreading into a great scarlet stain on the snow-covered grass - it was like a ritual where he had torn off the link himself.

Nathaniel had convinced himself for years that he should have felt relief on this very day, but it never came. Even though you were defeated, his soul throbbed silently, warningly, at the thought that you were still lying here on this earth, even though your body was destined to turn to dust.

'Check her.'

With his silent call, the shadows obeyed the order. They didn't even have human form - two black smokes slipped out from behind the trees and crawled across the ground, coming toward you. They circled over you, crawled under your body, wrapped themselves around your neck and wrists.

'Not feeling...'

A timid, obedient voice echoed in Nathaniel's head as he watched you cautiously, carefully. The shadows explored you from head to toe, there wasn't an inch of your body they didn't touch - one of them wrapped around the hilt of the dagger and plunged it deeper into your heart, but you didn't even whimper.

'Not feeling...'

Another shadow echoed the first. Nathaniel's exhalation was full of relief, but something kept him from rejoicing. He waved his hand irritably and the shadows hid behind the trees in fear, fuming blackly and peering out naughtily. He would have vanished into the night right now, veiling himself again, waiting for the fourth tragic day, but he stood there, disturbing the brittle snow beneath his feet - he needed to make sure that you were dead.

The sound of his footsteps was barely audible - he was standing over your body, glaring at you, but even there, deep inside him, where there was no room for a human soul, he could no longer find your presence. Wanting to see your death in the face, he clenched his teeth and kicked your shoulder with his foot - your supple, numb body rolled over, and at that moment an invisible arrow of retribution pierced his heart - he exhaled convulsively as he saw your black eyes glittering with the fading life and determination.

"Ya will follow me!" you spat out, grinning - a mad laugh escaped your lips, and you tried to lift your head, but weakness drove the back of your head back into the ground. You expended the rest of your strength, and Nathaniel's formerly clear features swam before your eyes, merging with the black sky. "Now and forever... ya... ya will follow...," you breathed heavily, shallowly, and your words were more like hoarse attempts to get air into your lungs, but the universe heard your command. Nathaniel watched helplessly as a faint, blue light flashed on your wrist – it flashed and disappeared.

Lifting your extinguished gaze, you gave your soul and body into the hands of peace. The crowns of the trees faded, the snow was no longer cold. You heard neither threats, nor pleas, nor attempts to negotiate, only the stars grew dimmer and dimmer, and you didn't care about the purpose with which fate had brought you to this world - smiling weakly, you thought only that your mother was wrong after all.

In warm winds and cold snows, in green leaves and yellow sands, in meek, gentle laughter, in shy looks, in missing embraces, in soothing touches, in the happy voice of a loved one, in mercy and understanding, in the ability to share pain and fear, in the ability to see life through another's eyes - the world will always be saved by love until the last human dies.

The snow, having stopped falling, left behind only a piercing cold.

Gojo couldn't blame Megumi when he returned two hours later. Searching and running in the cold, empty space had taken a lot of energy - after a quick snack, Megumi spoke quietly to Shoko about something, and she frowned and nodded as if giving him a go. The sorcerer sat beside them, but no matter how much he looked at them, no matter how much he listened, he couldn't make out a word - there was a thick, sticky fog in his head.

He was used to sitting on the porch waiting for you.

Twilight swam in his blue eyes as he watched aloofly as Megumi headed for the training field. Violet lightning flashed silently again, followed a moment later by a second flash. Gojo stirred, looking questioningly at the returning Fushiguro. "Nothing's changed," Megumi said quietly to Shoko, shaking his head, but the sorcerer could see the relief in the boy's eyes.

"Good," Ieiri nodded, taking a drag on her cigarette and looked at her watch, timing it. "Now go back to the void. Run for half an hour, if you don't find her, come back and we'll do it again," the doctor glanced at Fushiguro's fingertips, which were already beginning to darken. She didn't possess dark energy, but she knew that at this rate, the boy wouldn't last long - at some point in the next relocation, his body might not be able to take it. Nodding, Megumi jerked toward the training field again and disappeared in a bright flash.

"What's going on?" asked Gojo weakly, raising his head and looking at Shoko in bewilderment.

Ieiri averted her gaze, not knowing how to choose her words - right now he was too vulnerable and... weak. "I don't know if you remember or not, but when there's no one in the void, it changes. We've decided to check every half hour to see if it's turned over, and if it does, and we still don't see another flash, then..."

"Don't go on," he chuckled softly, burying his face in her palms - she wrinkled her nose sympathetically, hearing the hopelessness pouring through his laughter. He regretted asking Ieiri about it a hundred times over - now, in front of his eyes, you were not only alone, but you were also lying on the ground as the sand covered your motionless body. "Do you think... she will come back?"

A quiet sob almost escaped Shoko's lips, and she squeezed her eyes shut tightly, opened them, and sat down beside him - hesitating a little and dropping her eyes to the floor, she put a hand on his shoulder. "She has to," she whispered, and her voice nearly broke, almost giving out a bitter doubt. She glimpsed Gojo - he looked like a dead man. His white skin was pale, his ever-lively, cheerful eyes were hollow, and his chest barely heaved at all as he stared blankly before him, seeming not to hear her words.

Whether he'd been sitting there for a minute or hours, he couldn't count, but Ieiri had been sitting next to him the whole time. Occasionally the sorcerer would catch her talking, whether she was trying to distract him or herself, but she wasn't very good at it. Not because she was a bad storyteller, but because it was impossible to distract them both from the thoughts of his dashed hopes.

The night would not let up, only Megumi's returns illuminated the neighborhood with purple light. Gojo looked at him every time - even if Fushiguro wasn't carrying the news that he'd finally found you, he hoped every time he heard that nothing had changed in the void. Ieiri eyed Fushiguro's arm more and more anxiously - the lines had already crawled beneath his uniform, and hell knows how deep the dark energy had spread through his body. Hearing once again that the void remained the same, Gojo nodded gratefully, exhaling in relief and covering his eyes - he'd kept them closed for so long that he hadn't even noticed Megumi disappear again.

The flash was so bright this time that Ieiri glanced nervously at the spot where Fushiguro had teleported from. She furrowed her eyebrows suspiciously - the boy had already vanished, and the sky was still glowing purple. With a jerk of her head, she nearly gasped in exasperation and shoved Gojo sharply in the shoulder. "Satoru!" she shouted, trying to pull him out of the dark confinement of his thoughts and turning his head towards the forest - the sky there shone with purple flames much brighter. The sorcerer didn't even realize it, the thought didn't want to form, but he jumped up and ran.

Gojo ran and teleported, ran and teleported, and soon the temples were replaced by dark trees that hid him from the world. He looked around frantically, trying to remember and guess the exact position of the flash, trying to see anything in the dark forest. He slowed his pace and your name desperately flew from his lips - he shouted it, hoping for an answer, then whispered it painfully, never getting one. His eyes blurred when, in the distance, behind the tree trunks, he saw a dark spot that lay against the white snow, and on numb legs he rushed toward it, not remembering himself. The closer he got, the more tears covered his eyes - he sobbed pitifully, recognizing your motionless features, and the tip of a silver blade sticking out of your chest like a banner of defeat.

You must have been terribly cold. First you had spent so much time in the void, and now you were lying on the prickly snow - Gojo, kneeling before you, soiling himself on the bloody snow, pulled off his uniform jacket and first tried to gently lift your head, but you didn't make a wheeze of pain. He squeezed his eyes shut - tears immediately flowed from them - and wrapped his jacket around your back. He was still afraid to disturb you - swallowing his painful emotions, the sorcerer held you close to him and stroked your black hair frantically, afraid to even lift your body.

You looked nothing like yourself. He'd seen you as a demon before, but this time you were barely human. "Doc will fix it," he quietly assured you, crying. "I'll... I'll get you up, 'kay?" he asked, not expecting to get an answer.

Gojo held you as gently as he could against his chest, and as he got up, he only now noticed someone else's footprints in the snow - his tear-stained eyes became sharp, and he slowly looked around, hugging your fragile body tighter. Sensing no one, the sorcerer looked again at the tracks that were right up close to where you lay, but he couldn't see any others - the ones that had gone away from you. He whimpered pitifully, putting his trembling lips to the top of your head. What have you done?

Gojo turned around and headed for the college - he walked slowly at first, keeping his eyes on your face. He'd seen you like this before - motionless, breathless, with empty dark eyes, which meant you'd be fine again when you got better.

He didn't realize he'd gone into a run, holding your head against his chest.

The sorcerer almost didn't see the trees change to a clear stone road as he ran as fast as he could, afraid to even teleport. He could barely make out the familiar porch with Shoko still sitting on the steps - he tried not to look at her, he didn't need proof in other people's eyes that nothing could be fixed. He stormed in the college and ran to the infirmary while Ieiri trotted restlessly behind him. "Where's Doc?" he tossed quietly over his shoulder.

Shoko furrowed her eyebrows in hesitation. "He's asleep right now, but-"

"Then wake him!" bellowed Gojo loudly, turning sharply toward her.

At that moment, Shoko swallowed her words, staring at him stunned. At the sight of her frightened face, the sorcerer shook his head briefly, as if trying to ward off the despair that was coming. "Sorry," he mumbled, and without wasting any more time, he carried you to the nearest room. Ieiri watched the two of you for a few more seconds - the way his tall silhouette darkened, and the way your arm dangled limply in his grasp. Shoko couldn't blame him for being angry, she couldn't even blame him if he was about to tear the world to splinters. Turning around, she hurried after Doc.

Gojo pushed open the door to the room with his foot and whispered softly into your head as he walked to the bed, slowly lowering you onto it, his hands still on you. Lost in a peaceful slumber, you remained indifferent to his hot whispering and desperate touch - your black, lifeless eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, and he surrendered and gently wrapped his hand around yours and placed it against your forehead, lowering his eyes. He sobbed pathetically, laughing softly - your body wasn't getting any warmer.

Waiting for Doc, not daring to get up and leave the room, Gojo forced himself to look at you, his silent cry trying to wake you, kissing every pad of your fingers. While the sorcerer watched helplessly as your soul was lost ever more firmly among the stars, you took hold of his outstretched hand and stood up from your chair, looking at him uncertainly, grinning nervously. "When I stomp all over your feet, don't whine later that I didn't warn ya."

"How about this?" Gojo asked slyly, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you into the air - the hem of your blue dress became the wings of a butterfly, and when you shrieked in surprise, he laughed and buried his face in your neck. He made one easy turn to the beat of the music, and already you were squirming unhappily, demanding him to put you down on the ground. Of course he obeyed, but there was nothing you could do about the fact that his arms remained around your waist, pressing you so close you could almost hear his tearing heartbeat. "One must always look one's partner in the eye," there was such tenderness lurking behind his strictness that you almost melted in the sunlight and the sparkle of his blue eyes as he gently cupped your cheek and lifted your face slightly, trying to see the life in your eyes. Amidst the songs of hope, the voice of farewell rang out in your head, and Gojo, clenching his teeth and howling barely audibly, slowly removed the mask from your face, fresh blood still oozing from your parched lips, dripping down to your neck.

The sorcerer looked at you again, gazing at the edge of the blade sticking out of your chest, hopelessly waiting for your sigh he wanted to hear. Feverishly, but carefully, he tried to wipe the blood from your face, as if that could help you to take a breath. "Boxy, is that ya...?" he laughed wetly, cupping your face - it was no longer your voice, it was a steely hoarseness that barely resembled a human voice, but to him it was a sign from above - you were still here.

"I'm here. I'm here, baby, I'm with you, I'm not going anywhere," if promises were any good, Gojo would have made a hundred more, but now all he could do was whisper helplessly, trying to get a one more word out of you. After a single question, you fell silent again, as if he'd made up your voice, and you'd been lying there the whole time, unmoving and silent, staring at the ceiling with empty black eyes.

Leaning over you, listening to what life you still had left in you, he haphazardly, incoherently began to cover your dry lips with light kisses, his tears mixing with your blood and running down your neck, staining the white pillowcases. He didn't care about the distant shouts in the hallway, blind to the purple flash outside the window that announced Fushiguro's return, for you were all that existed to him. Gojo couldn't suppress a silly smile as you failed to take his seemingly wise advice and kept looking around. You were attracting too much attention - the eyes of all the guests were on you, though it was the newlyweds who should have been the ones basking in the attention. He glanced at Megumi and Danielle, lost in each other, cooing quietly about something, who didn't mind the shadows of the quiet solitude.

"Kinda awkward...," you muttered quietly as the mage once again spun you around in a twist - you almost stepped on his foot.

He had a smug, sly grin on his face, and for the first time all evening, your attention was on him alone, making the white skin on his cheeks flush - maybe it was the scarlet sunset, but even the sun couldn't warm him the way you did. "I have a plan," he whispered conspiratorially, leaning closer to you - the smugness dissipated in an instant, giving way to tenderness and sweet longing. When he stopped the dance, he cupped your chin, forcing you to look up at him, but you weren't there anymore.

The wounds on your body wouldn't heal, and the blade was still sticking out between your collarbones, reminding him of everything. One simple movement, and that point could be in his chest, too - he shook his head feverishly, trying to push the thought away. "I bought us a house," Gojo admitted desperately on a suppressed cry. "In the north, just like we wanted," he rested his forehead against yours, as if you could hear him better that way. "We'll even buy those ugly yellow curtains, just... just don't go," he tried to avoid the last words as best he could - he hadn't believed to the last that you could run away again, but now there was nothing left for him to do but beg you to stay. His once overflowing happiness was empty, and he watched your reaction with glassy eyes as you gave him a suspicious glare and nodded your head, ordering him to spill everything. With a soft, almost embarrassed grin, Gojo ran his palms over your shoulders, smoothing the sleeves of your blue dress. "Shall we run away?" never in his life would he regret his suggestion - your eyes shone brightly, as did your uncertain smile. The warm wind nudged you toward each other with its embrace, and he nuzzled your cheek, heeding the dictates of the universe.

"Where to?" you asked quietly, enthusiastically, and Gojo promised himself that he would forever keep that twinkle in your eyes that was beyond sunlight - that flickered only at the sight of him alone and belonged to him alone.

He faltered in shyness, lowering his gaze to the ground, but the gentle smile never left his face - gathering courage, he looked you straight in the eye. "Due north."

"I love you," he wanted to gloat, he wanted to tear his heart from his chest - you could no longer forbid him to utter those words. "I love you, I love you so much," he cried and laughed, holding your body gently against his, protecting what was left of you - the once forbidden words poured from his lips, and there was no end to the flow. Once clear and loud, they flowed into unintelligible, wet whispers, but he never stopped saying them. It didn't matter to him - let all humans burn under the mad, spitting sun, the two of you forever remain among the endless winds of the north.

Outside the window, the snow began to fall again.

You ducked involuntarily as a bottle flew toward you - it hit the wall, shattering into shards, and there was a drunken hooting sound. There were so many people in the bar this time that it was crowded, and you were getting your feet trampled on as you elbowed people trying to get to the stairs.

Each time you came to this room on a hunch, as if someone was calling you, though you didn't understand why you were here each time - you fought your way through the excited, drunken people and found yourself in a quieter room, where the bartender was still polishing glasses to a shine, but you didn't care about his frowning face.

You've never seen so many people at that table here before. Tris was still squirming unruly on Frank's lap. Vito was talking to Kyle, and your brother kept trying to shake off his father's massive hand while Vito teased him. Rob watched mesmerized as Rachel drained her third glass of light beer, and he held her hand the entire time. Their carefree images became a shroud, and you furrowed your brows, feeling something hot run down your cheeks.

They were all here.

You took a hesitant step forward, furtively wiping your tears away with your sleeve. You stared at them spellbound for another minute, listening to the quiet laughter, your sister's orders to pour her another drink, Frank's attempts to quiet the rebellious little girl, Vito's taunting of Rob about Rachel being the head of the family, and Kyle's attempts to keep them all in line. Once again, you felt left out, but the others didn't.

"Adoptee!" shrieked Rachel, almost choking. She coughed and jumped up, her chair toppling beneath her, and she rushed toward you. The people around you both laughed approvingly as she pounced on you, squeezing you in a hug and nearly knocking you to the floor. "Ya here too!" she laughed.

While you were drowning in indecision, Rachel did all the work for you - she dragged you to the table by the scruff of your neck and sat you down across from her and Rob. You gave your brother a confused, gleeful look - Kyle winked at you, gently rubbing the top of your head. "How ya got him, huh?" chuckled Rachel, bending over you and shoving you in the shoulder with her fist, then plopping back into the chair Rob had pulled up and taking the glass of beer in her hand. "Ya will follow me!" she mocked you, twisting your words in a high, overly bold tone.

You wanted to snap back on her jokingly, but you were interrupted by Tris, who had been working her way across the others' laps to get closer to you. "Hey," she muttered moodily, ending up in your lap and holding out her hands to you, demanding attention. You grinned, hugging the small body - the girl relaxed in a moment, resting her head comfortably on your shoulder.

"I'm sorry," you said, looking around the table guiltily. You were apologizing for everything at once - for your behavior, for letting them down, and for your silence about what you'd known all along. Rachel opened her mouth, her face red with indignation, but Kyle held up his palm and gave her a stern look.

"It's okay," Frank chuckled, moving over and ending up beside you. He gently but confidently cupped a wide, rough palm around your face and made you look up at him. "It worked, after all."

You smiled, kicking your legs in shyness - it was as if you were ten years old again, and Frank was praising you for the outstanding skills you'd shown at practice. "How's Mike?" blurted Rob impatiently, cutting into the conversation - he didn't care about the fate of the whole world at all, he just needed to know that his son was okay.

"Fine," you replied, looking at Rachel, her eyes dim with longing and guilt, and she froze, bringing the beer glass to her lips. Mike had indeed took both Rachel's looks and personality - so somehow he would cope with the loss, and Danielle was always at his side now. "I'll... go get another beer for us," you chirped, playfully shoving Frank away and handing him a half-asleep Tris to clear a path for you.

As you stood up from the table, you caught a glimpse of Rob cradling Rachel's drooping head on his shoulder - they weren't the best parents, but Rob had done everything he could to bring Mike into the old world, and Rachel had done everything she could to make sure their son lived in the new and better one.

On your way to the bar, you bumped into a familiar face, and you felt a chill of shame as Camila walked toward you, but surprisingly, she didn't give you a hateful look. She nodded, albeit without a smile, and went to her table. You turned around and there were cheerful faces waving at you - Axel and Ryan had already spotted you. Waving back at them, you laughed warmly.

Your return to your table with the still sealed bottles of beer elicited cheers of approval. Sitting down, you even grabbed one and opened it while the others did the same. Just as Kyle was about to take a sip, Frank grabbed his hand, stopping him and looking at him sternly. "And the toast?"

Kyle shook his head annoyingly.

"There will be no toast!" exclaimed Rachel cheerfully, drawing attention to herself. "But I wanna say something," she giggled, and her eyes show that she was ready to spit out a wildly stupid thing. "So, guys," she grinned slyly, winking at you. "Looks like we all get it back in the long run, huh?"

You rolled your eyes, and Kyle beside you chuckled into his hand, trying to block out the laughter with a cough. "I bet," you agreed nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders - at that moment, jingling bottles clinked and relieved laughter spilled over the bar. You chatted about everything and nothing - you were bombarded with questions about how Danielle was doing, how her baby was, whether he was doing well with Megumi, and there were the occasional playful questions about you and Gojo, but you brushed them off with embarrassment, your watch chiming on your arm.

"Hush!" hissed Frank, seeing that Tris had fallen asleep in his arms. You all fell silent, staring at the little girl with round eyes, and after a short pause, you switched to whispering.

"Give her here," Kyle said, taking the limp little tiny body and getting up from his seat - you immediately perked up, grabbing him by the edge of his jacket.

"Ya leaving already?" you asked with resentment in your voice, trying to make him linger.

"I'll see ya," he laughed softly, kissing you on the forehead for goodbye. You pouted your lips and crossed your arms over your chest, looking away as he left - your heart clenched painfully when you heard the chime of the doorbell in the midst of the drunken clatter.

The table was increasingly cluttered with empty bottles, plates of uneaten food and snacks. While Rachel, Vito and Rob competed to see who could drain a pint of beer the fastest, Frank glanced enigmatically at the watch on your wrist. "He made it all nice and pretty, didn't he?" the man snorted menacingly. In his world view, his children deserved nothing but the best, even though they ended up in this bar anyway.

"I bet a kidney that he outdid even ya and Shaya," you stuck your tongue out at him teasingly, and something clicked in your head - you discreetly touched your face and realized with horror that you weren't wearing a mask. What was weirder was that no one had noticed it, as if it were normal.

Frank glanced longingly at the watch on your wrist that had once belonged to his wife. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud, muffled thump as Vito fell face-first into the table, and Rachel and Rob looked at each other guiltily, uncertainly, each holding a half-full mug of beer.

"Did we overdone it?..." whispered Rachel to her husband, poking Vito in the shoulder.

"Nah...," Rob waved it off. "He just lay down to rest..."

"Ya were a decent boy when I married off my daughter to ya," Frank shouted, slamming his fist on the table. "Oh just ya wait... when ya sober up, I'm gonna give ya a hard time... It's not so interesting to punish ya when ya're drunk...

You put your hand on Frank's shoulder, trying to reassure him - he put his palm over yours and gave it a little squeeze. "Grab him under his arms and get out of here," he growled, nodding at a passed out and drunk Vito. Rachel mumbled something, mimicking her father's tone, and picked up her comrade's collapsed body - even Rob, who had tried to help her, got caught in the hot hand. She shouted at him, and he lowered his head and scampered after her toward the exit.

"Kids...," Frank sighed indignantly, glaring after them. When the door closed behind them, he turned to you and a soft smile appeared on his face. "Well, it's time," he said, clapping himself on his thighs and got up from his seat - you hurried after him to see him off.

You looked around clumsily - there wasn't a soul in the bar, except for the perpetually sullen bartender. Once again, you couldn't keep track of the people leaving the place one by one. Standing at the table that was right by the exit, you waited for Frank to give you one last hug. "So... See ya?" you asked awkwardly, scratching the back of your head.

"Young lady," he chuckled inconsolably, shattered by your ignorance. He was tormented by your gaze - questioning, hesitant and lost, and for a moment the words stuck in his throat. "This time... ya coming with us."

"What?" you asked hollowly, almost interrupting him. You shook your head slowly, laughing stupidly, but Frank still didn't change his expression. "No, no, I mean...," you began to panic, each inhale and exhale coming with difficulty, and you wrapped your hand around your neck, afraid that you were about to suffocate. "I've always come out through... through...," you frantically looked around, but you couldn't remember - how did you ever get out of here before? Hot tears welled from your eyes, and you almost collapsed to the floor, but Frank gently wrapped his arms around your tense body, wincing in pain as he felt your heart pounding furiously. As you cried into his chest, all he could do was stroke your hair - it seemed to Frank that a single wrong word could throw you into an abyss of endless despair. You shook your head nervously again, pulling away from the man - he would once again give his life to never see those red, crying eyes again. "Is that it?" you asked quietly, sobbing. "I can't even... say goodbye?"

"Sunshine... Ya've already lasted longer than it was really possible," he tried to reassure you, but your tears turned into a broken, quiet laugh. You lowered your head and your hair completely covered your face, cutting off any attempts by Frank to soothe you with a comforting look.

"Unfair!" you yelled, throwing your head up sharply and glaring at Frank like it was all his fault. You immediately staggered back a step, burying your hands in your hair, clutching it painfully. "It's unfair, unfair... I can't leave now, I can't leave him..."

The departed souls always saw more and saw wider - you could justify your act all you wanted by saying you were sacrificing to rid the world of Diomorphea, but Frank knew you were here for Gojo. If his life wasn't on the line, you would have just run away, hidden in the shadows and waited for the opportune moment like you always did. Approaching you from behind, he lowered strong, warm hands on your trembling shoulders. "Young lady, I'm really sorry...," he sighed, trying to run your pain through his veins through his touch. "But there's no way to change fate. No matter what we do in our lives, we can't escape alive.

"I know," you snapped weakly, and he chuckled wistfully. "Promise me I'll see him again," you ordered sternly but weakly, even though you knew Frank wasn't God - he was just a loving father and a caring husband, but you needed to hear one last assurance.

"Like I said, we all end up here," he chuckled, turning you around - your face still showing anger, despair, and resentment. "Ya'll see each other again. I promise."

The words of his shaky vows seemed to suck all the strength out of you, and on trembling legs you made your way to the table and sat down on it, staring blankly at the floor. Your imagination began to play tricks on you - your fingertips seemed to dissolve into the air, becoming transparent, but why would you care if his face was still in front of your eyes? Memories were the only thing you had left, and you cringed, realizing that you no longer felt the line between reality and captivating fiction, and that life had become a magical dream you'd imagined.

"We gotta go," Frank reminded gently.

You nodded weakly and looked at the door with a wince - you headed for it without thinking, but when you tripped over something, you were once again filled with unwarranted anger. There was still a wooden plaque on the floor, which last time the guests had tried to attach to the wall, but apparently all their attempts had failed. Taking it in your hands and reading the name of the bar, you turned the sign sharply and jabbed your finger at it - Frank thought you almost made a hole in the wood. "What the fuck, Frank?" the tone of your voice grew louder along with your indignation. "Ya see that?" you nearly stomped your foot in outrage, and he laughed heartily as he read the title. Snatching the sign from your hands, he tossed it to the far corner, and with a firm arm around your shoulder, he opened the door - the bells jingled, announcing the last of the departing guests.

With a loud, relieved exhale, the bartender set the glass on the bar with a clatter. He hurriedly pulled off his apron and tossed it away in disgust, almost running to his coat and pulling it on in one motion, running his hands up the sleeves. His keys rattled in his pocket, and the ever-sullen man smiled for the first time as he found himself on the other side of the back door - he was glad to be leaving this place, closing the doors of the necessary sacrifices' bar forever.

You were lying on the grass, staring at your hand that was raised to the heavens, admiring the captivating shimmers on your wrist and ring finger, and you couldn't suppress an oblivious smile. You couldn't even think about the fact that it would soon be over - going against the winds of fate, you began to imagine a future together. The images were fuzzy and the voices distant, but they made your head spin, and a longing warmth spread through your chest.

While you, like a true thief, admired the glitter of the jewelry, Gojo was admiring you, gazing at your profile, which was furtively caressed by the dim moonlight, and after he looked up at the sky, but no star on the darkest canvas shone brighter than you. He snorted something under his breath, trying to get your attention, but your eyes remained captive to the glitter of the jewelry. The sorcerer propped himself up on an elbow, keeping his eyes on you, and placed a hand on your stomach. "Baby?" he called to you in a low voice, and you hummed something thoughtfully, letting him know you were still here. "Do you think... the universe is infinite?"

Your gaze immediately focused on the heavens that looked back at you through your fingers. You stirred, breaking free from the clutches of thoughts of a future together, and looked up at him in amazement. "What kind of question is that?" you laughed, but his face surprisingly remained serious. "Uh, I... I dunno," you muttered embarrassedly, turning your head.

Gojo chuckled quietly. "I didn't ask about your knowledge. But I am curious about your thoughts," he said with a fingertip poking at your forehead, making you wince playfully.

"Well...," you drawled puzzled, covering his hand with yours and now turning your full attention to the sky - some of the stars were hiding behind the leaves of the trees, shying away from you. "Both yes and no...," you murmured uncertainly, shrugging your shoulders. "There's a bit of a paradox here - if you ask people what the universe is in two simple words, many will say that it's everything we can and can't imagine, it's just that the wording will be slightly different. The snag is that if you think about the boundaries of the universe afterwards, you can't conclude that it has them, because in our understanding absolutely everything is already here. Have you ever known or seen a place that had everything, but there was something else beyond it?" you asked hesitantly, and he shook his head slowly, not taking his eyes off you. "So I don't think... that the universe has some kind of spatial wall or something, and the light from the big bang will still be flying in all directions even hundreds of billions of years later, making the universe bigger and bigger. And on the other hand, that very edge could be right under our noses, but it's no longer just a wall to bump into, it's more like... an entrance or an exit. What if it were possible to tear our fabric of space-time? Wouldn't that be the boundary?" your eyes glittered brighter and brighter, and he looked up at the sky involuntarily.

The sky above your heads could have been someone's home, and the stars could have been grain that someone had accidentally dropped, or it could have been that you were here all alone, and the stars were just dust in an empty house. "But no one can do that. None of the humans, at least. It's like trying to move into a two-dimensional world, only in reverse. So we're doomed to stay here and accept our universe as infinite until proven otherwise."

You hastily looked away from the sky with a gloomy gaze that could not escape Gojo. He put his hand around your chin and forced you to look at him - behind the sincere glint of curiosity, a dull hopelessness flashed in your eyes. "Mochi, is something wrong?"

You hesitated, gathering your thoughts into words. "If the universe is infinite... I... I mean, what do ya think could happen in a place with an infinite amount of space and time?" you, though you spoke slowly and very quietly, still stammered.

"Absolutely everything?" he asked, frowning his eyebrows but never removing his hand from your face.

"Exactly!" you chuckled nervously, squirming in your place. "I mean... literally everything. If you sit in the middle of space for an indefinite amount of time and wait for a guitar to assemble in front of you, it will happen with one hundred percent accuracy. Now take a broader view - not only will any events happen, they'll also repeat themselves. It's gonna take an awful long time, billions of years or more, but what does it matter if there's an eternity to spare?"

When Gojo realized what you were getting at, he was first struck with a clammy, cold fear, and then relief. You and he were here, you were on this path together, and if not in a million years, then in ten billion, you would be in this very spot again, and it would all happen again, time after time, until the universe itself died. His heart skipped a beat - if anything could have happened, then you might never have met. "What about the rest of it? There could be many variations of events..."

"Gotcha," you chuckled, snapping your fingers. "But ya and me are already here, and this is all happening to 'these' us. And we are either the discoverers of this story, or we've already experienced it. We'll never know," you regained your carefree demeanor, but there was bitterness oozing through your cheerful words.

If a creature had crawled under Gojo's bed and whispered every night that he would live through this life, with all its loss and sorrow, with all its joy and serenity over and over again, would he have called it an angel or a demon? For himself, he knew for certain that if such a creature had come into his life, he would have believed in God. But what about you? "Does that scare you?..." he asked in a broken voice, betraying both despair and hope.

You looked him straight in the eye and shook your head slowly. "Not anymore," you whispered on a quiet exhale. You didn't care how many more times you had to go through the torture, or how many more cage bars you had to count - the keys to your freedom lurked in the blue eyes across from you.

At peace, Gojo closed his eyes, cradling your body against his. "I have something else for you," he admitted without opening his eyes, and you frowned - he'd already given you too much tonight. He rustled behind his back, fumbling for something, and a second later there were two blank paper in front of your face.

He laughed quietly at the genuine bewilderment on your face. "Today is the fifth of December. Remember?"

Gojo almost regretted his decision - your face contorted in pain, and you shook your head as you lifted yourself from your seat. He immediately wrapped his arms gently but firmly around your waist, his chest pressing against your back and keeping you still. "Mochi, I understand. You've always done this with your family. Although...I won't lie, I've seen that sometimes you didn't launch the paper plane. I won't ask why," he reassured you, his nose rubbing against your neck. He didn't need to ask questions, for your souls were one now, and now the mark that burned on yours he could read - you'd been afraid to want anything before, and now that you had no family, no town to protect... "Say the word, and I'll throw that paper away. But if you still want to...," he murmured gently and held out a pen to you, and to his surprise, you took it, albeit tentatively.

You glanced at him over your shoulder. "Turn away," you ordered quietly, and he smiled, hiding his face in your back, still hugging you. You placed the blank, white sheet of paper in front of you - may all your fulfilled and unfulfilled dreams forgive you for your uneven handwriting, but now you were trying to scratch out a single word while the uneven ground supported you. When you finished, you stuck out the tip of your tongue and folded the paper as neatly as you could. "Done," you chirped. "What about ya?" you asked indignantly, turning to him as he showed you the already assembled second paper plane with a sly smile.

Gojo helped you to your feet and led you to the very shore, but always making sure that you did not get your feet wet. He watched fondly and hopefully as you looked off into the distance, hesitantly rubbing the folded paper in your hands. "On the count of three," he coaxed you, and at first there was a flicker of fear in your eyes, but with a nod came determination.

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

You launched your airplane a little before he did - they circled in the air, flying over the water and catching up with each other, taking your wishes and dreams with them. As soon as you blinked, both paper planes vanished into air, leaving behind only memories. "Hey!" you shouted indignantly, pointing at the ocean. "They're gone!"

The sorcerer threw up his hands and shrugged. "They always disappear, there's nothing you can do about it."

"How did ya do it?" you laughed, hugging him - with a happy heart he hugged you fervently in return. You didn't hear whether he said something or slyly remained silent, keeping the secret - your whole mind was filled with a silent cry of happiness. "Toru?" you raised your head, looking up at him. "What was on your first airplane?"

Gojo grinned softly. How could he have written anything else when he was blissfully nibbling on the mochi you brought him in his hospital bed? Existence had become life when he first felt the touch of your warm hands, and the notion of power had crumbled the day you let him embrace you - from the first paper plane to the last, it was always... "You," he exhaled, touching his lips to your forehead - you covered your eyes and listened to the singing of two hearts forever in love.

[March 27, 2025, 06:13am; Kyoto, Kyoto Prefecture, Kyoto College]

Gojo was often delirious in his dreams, grasping at the images his mind drew - each time as he reached up and almost touched your hand, he sharply jumped up and woke up, wet and sticky with sweat. He grasped desperately at the sheets beside him, but they were smoothed out, and worse, cold.

"Doc?..." the sorcerer asked weakly in incomprehension and indecision - the man froze in the doorway, looking at the blade between your collarbones, and was in no hurry to help at all. Behind Doc stood a confused Ieiri - the woman looked over his shoulder at Gojo, then shifted a startled gaze to the Doc's profile. "W-why are you just standing there?" he chuckled nervously, cradling your stiffened body against him. "Do something..."

But tonight, the sorcerer didn't sleep at all. He cringed as the first rays of sunlight hit his pale face, and he covered himself with a blanket, hiding from the world. His heart had been pounding relentlessly and frantically against his chest for months now, and he was almost used to this state - a state of endless and gratuitous anxiety. When he was all alone, he reacted to every sound and rustle, constantly looking around, waiting for you to appear.

Doc shrugged weakly and shook his head inconsolably - cold sweat ran down Gojo's back, and his t-shirt stuck disgustingly to his body, and his sorrowful gaze turned steely and ruthless. "Heal her," came not a humble request but a harsh order, and Doc's eyes gleamed with sympathy - the sorcerer was in such deep denial that he didn't see what was happening right before his eyes.

"Boy, come to your senses," Doc said quietly, shaking his head mournfully - he couldn't blame Gojo for the threats in his eyes, for his craziness, and for the fact that he was blind to everything right now. "She's gone," a pathetic 'no' came from the Gojo's lips almost simultaneously with Doc's words, and he lowered his eyes, and this world that the two of you had spent so long and carefully building splinter by splinter out of wounded souls came crashing down.

Gojo didn't even feel you dissolve. In disbelief, he clenched and unclenched the folds of his jacket, as if trying to find you - his mind screamed at the futility from afar, but his broken heart urged him to keep looking for you. The first, shattered sob of realization echoed through the room as Doc grabbed Shoko by the shoulder, pulling her out of the room, and before he could close the door, the two of them shuddered with a silent, desperate scream against the fabric of the jacket.

Sometimes Gojo talked to himself. Sitting in his room, he would tell himself how his day had gone, ask what shirt he should wear or whether his hair was too disheveled, but neither the walls nor the ceiling would answer him. He met each new day without fear - no sin or calamity would ever make him feel the pain he had felt every moment since you left.

The sorcerer didn't know how long he'd been under the blanket - he didn't care even when the lack of air made it hard to breathe, because now he was living like this every minute. He flinched when the alarm clock rang - reluctantly he threw off the blanket and picked up the phone, and in that moment his fluttering and agitated heart calmed for the first time. The notification panel lit up with a message from Megan with an address.

Gojo felt a vague excitement mixed with a pang of sharp pain as he got out of bed and went to the dresser and spent a long time deciding what to wear, asking questions into the void and tossing unnecessary clothes aside. He settled on the most familiar - a gray sweatshirt and black pants, and, fully assembled and with his hair slightly disheveled, he opened the last drawer.

He exhaled raggedly and took the neatly folded jacket in his hands and stroked it gently - it had been untouched since that day. He leaned the jacket against his face and inhaled, and his soul was wracked with hopelessness - he couldn't smell you. You were so selfish that you left behind no scent, no voice, no body, not even the drops of blood that were on his jacket once - when you disappeared, it all evaporated with you, and Gojo couldn't figure out if he was a fool, or you - a thief.

The sorcerer carefully put the jacket back on and gently smoothed the fabric one last time before closing the drawer. He stood up and straightened to his full height and walked out of his room, the afternoon light already streaming in through the windows, pushing away all the shadows.

Gojo smiled broadly as a small whirlwind flew at him from around the corner - the child nearly fell to the floor when he collided with Gojo's knee, but the sorcerer picked him up, tossed him lightly into the air, and caught him deftly - the child's face broke into a smile. "You're not just a baby," he cooed, lifting the child higher and peering at it. "You're a race car. And how does Danielle handle you? And by the way, where's your mommy?" he squinted suspiciously, and the baby giggled something inarticulately. "Let's go look for her or she'll freak out. And we've already got a houseful of crazy people here," and with these words he carelessly threw the little giggling body over his shoulder, holding it behind his back, and went slowly around the neighborhood, whistling softly.

Gojo chuckled softly as he saw a flitting silhouette in the distance, between the temples and trees - he picked up the child in his arms and held it out like a trophy as Danielle ran to meet them. "Kyle!" the girl shouted out in a panting voice and took the cheerful child in her arms, cradling the small head against her chest.

"The happiness of motherhood?" he drawled slyly, towering over them and hiding them with his figure from the blazing sun.

"Thanks," she sighed, still stroking Kyle's back. "Ever since he started walking, it's been a disaster!" she exclaimed indignantly. "We were going to the park, I just put his shoes on, turned to grab my purse and... he's gone," she snorted, jokingly biting the top of the baby's head gently. "Don't tell Megumi about that," she whispered fearfully, looking hopefully at the sorcerer.

"What's in it for me?" he leaned in, smiling broadly, so that Danielle shuddered involuntarily.

"Whole teeth," she chirped, smiling brightly back.

"Got it!" he straightened abruptly, taking a step back from the girl, causing her and the baby to laugh. Gojo winked at her, tucking his hands in his pockets and nodding somewhere behind her back - Megumi was already standing on the porch, his car keys in his hands, and Mike was standing next to him.

"Thanks again," she said quietly, and with a wink back at him, she hurried back to her husband. They all turned and waved goodbye to Gojo at the same time, and he waved back nonchalantly. When they were far enough away, he could afford to wipe the smile off his face as he watched helplessly as they walked away, holding hands and talking and laughing softly. None of them remembered you, none of them talked about you - sometimes he began to think he was just making you up, and it drove him crazy.

The sorcerer grinned wistfully as Megumi got Kyle and Mike into the car, and with a kiss to his wife, opened the door for her as well. There was no way Gojo could believe that you were the one who took that away from him. You were neither human nor alien - you were a shadow from other worlds, and he was the only one who couldn't accept that.

When he arrived at the hospital wing, Gojo stopped in front of Ieiri's office - the door was open, and he leaned against the doorjamb, watching his friend fill out an inordinate amount of paperwork, not daring to disturb her. "I was just planning a smoke break," she sighed tiredly, lifting an indifferent gaze to the sorcerer. He nodded embarrassedly, and followed her as Shoko left the office.

"Do you need something or did you just come to get on my nerves?" she asked, leaning against the railing and lighting a cigarette.

Gojo faltered, smiling hesitantly. He had never learned this thing about saying goodbye. "Just wanted to give you a heads up that I'm leaving."

"For how long?"

"For good," such a simple answer made Shoko turn her head sharply and glance at Gojo, but he didn't hurry to look at his friend, he stared bashfully and almost obliviously at the ground. The sorcerer might not have come here at all, disappeared in the middle of the night or even in the middle of the day without saying his last words, but that would be too dishonest and selfish even for him.

"I see," Shoko spat out quietly and turned away from him, taking a drag. "It's been almost a year and a half," she gave up, exhaling desperately. "There is no way you can't..."

"But I can't," he blurted out in a broken voice, frantically shaking his head and interrupting any talk of your death. "I can't. Or rather, I can live without her, probably for a very long time, albeit not very happily," he sobbed, smiling. "I just don't want to," he whispered. "I don't know what happened, but I don't believe she could leave me like that."

"You think too highly of yourself," Ieiri ran a hand over her tired face, trying not to arouse suspicion and give out that she knew something. "She could have just lost..."

"No. If she realized she was losing, she'd just run away," he exhaled, and the tone of his voice was neither harsh nor decisive, but Shoko didn't argue, for the two of them knew that you were never a fighter.

But you've always been a survivor.

Extinguishing the cigarette butt on the ashtray, Ieiri turned back to him, his once majestic appearance slumped, and she didn't know whether to be glad Gojo had let her see him like this or not. Unsure of how to approach him, Shoko wrapped her arms around his shoulders and rested her cheek against his chest, listening to every tearing beat of his heart - she was seeing him off into the unknown. "Just know - if I don't come back, I'm now unconditionally and irrevocably happy," he whispered, smiling.

The sorcerer hugged her gently in return, and gave her forearms a slight squeeze and pulled away, taking a step back, still hesitant to leave. "Go," she said quietly, smiling weakly. He stood right in front of her, shuffling from foot to foot and glaring at her with guilty and to the point blue eyes. "Get out!" she barked furiously, and Gojo flinched and recoiled. She sobbed loudly, putting her palm to her mouth and closing her eyes - he didn't even grace her with his last face, she couldn't look at him, for he disappeared before her eyes.

On numb legs, Ieiri returned to the office. She was drowning in paperwork again, though every line floated before her eyes, and Shoko was horrified to see a tiny drop fall onto the sheet she held in front of her. She drew in air noisily, wiped the tears from her face zealously, and busied herself with rounds and examinations of the patients - that day everyone noticed that she was particularly silent and stern. Toward nightfall, she bitterly realized that there was no work left to do - Doc had forcibly escorted her out of the hospital wing and ordered her not to return until she'd had at least six hours of sleep.

As she walked along the cold ground between the temples, Shoko stopped in the middle of the road and lit a cigarette - she was enveloped in deep twilight, the chirping of crickets and steam with smoke that she exhaled from her mouth. She raised her red, exhaustion-filled eyes to the sky, and the stars twinkled brightly, comforting her with a glow that let her know everything was going to be okay. "I wish you luck on this journey," she said quietly, exhaling smoke. "Two idiots."

***

Three short, hesitant knocks sounded.

Just as you had left him behind, Gojo was leaving others - he was ashamed, but the endless urge to make things right was stronger than the usual shame. He waited with bated breath for an answer from the other side of the door. "Come in," a stern female voice commanded, and the sorcerer hesitated and entered - a face unfamiliar to him flashed in the small opening. A stately, young, black-haired woman was filling out paperwork, sipping whiskey from a crystal glass - he coughed quietly, drawing attention to himself, and closed the door behind him.

He had money. He had power. But even so, Gojo couldn't be sure that it would all pay off - for just one try, he was willing to give whatever was asked of him. He waited surprisingly obediently for Megan to get him an address, for all he knew was the name - all the while he dreamed of seeing you again. He was going crazy thinking about how he could get to the truth and do the right thing this time, but no solutions came to mind, but the sorcerer couldn't linger here any longer. You had disappeared so suddenly, leaving him all alone - all Gojo had done before was to boast of his exclusivity and loneliness, but now he could no longer exist in his old and familiar world where nothing of you remained, but everything reminded him of you, and he could no longer walk under the same sky.

Dying, a sailor chained to land missed the waves – Gojo went out to sea again, and if heaven had its own shore, he would surely find it and come back to you to spite all the deaths. While the Milky Way shimmered outside the window with tales of distant stars, waterfalls poured upward, clouds stopped their run, countless myriads became one, and the desert melted the sharp snow - in the expanse of the Satoru universe was rekindled once already perished Betelgeuse.

The End.

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medullamindset · 23 hours ago

Note

Could you possibly share your thoughts on Daisuke dating someone very organized and responsible who often dotes on him ^^

Hii yes i can (ღ˘⌣˘) Wasn't reeallyyyy sure how to turn it into a oneshot/drabble/blurb/imagine/WhateverTheFuckTheWordIsTheresTooManyToKeepTrackOfICantTellTheDifference but it did make a few cutesy ideas pop into my head soooo hopefully you'll enjoy anyway c:

No content warnings i don't think?

🪓🌅🌺🪓🌅🌺🪓🌅🌺🪓🌅🌺🪓🌅🌺🪓🌅🌺🪓

• Daisuke loves having someone like you to hang over all day. He'll watch you do your work intently, hanging over your shoulder quite literally, rubbing them for you when they're especially tense (even if he doesn't really know how to massage. Its the thought that counts).

• He'll doodle on sticky notes and stick them to the wall wherever you are currently working, kissing you on the cheek before running off to tail Swansea again. Sometimes it's a compliment, sometimes it's a crappy stick-man drawing of Swansea giving a lecture, or maybe your favorite flower or animal, literally anything. Sometimes hes drawn you. Suprisingly well too, he wants to get you just right. You're secretly his muse, especially if you're really "detailed" or have interesting hair/features.

• When hes hunched over the desk in utility himself, left to figure out the thingymajig Swansea gave him the manual for, Your tidyness comes in handy.

"Hey babe, i need the uhhh...?" He calls out as he makes a weird charade with his hand, a questionmark floating above his head. You stare at him for a second. "Oh, the diagonal pliers are in the third drawer from the top." You answer from the other side of the room. "Right, thanks!" He nods, smiling at you before continuing with his work.

• Hes very amazed with how you seem to keep track of everything. Sometimes he forgets where to put stuff and kinda just shoves them back in a random box, but he TRIES to keep it orderly, just the way u like it.

• After a job well done, you'll slip a packet of sweetener and a sticky note of your own into his bed, you're always doing what you're supposed to so Swansea isn't that suspicious of you when you walk out of the sleeping quarters and make up a lousy excuse to go to the storage closet.

Daisuke finds your little gift not many minutes later, the sweetener is long forgotten when he reads your note to come to the storage room ;) ♡♡, shoving it under his bed and making a bee-line to his destination.

💫

He walks out of there ten minutes later with birds flying over his head and the dopiest smile ever, his shirt inside out and belt loose.

• You have to remind Daisuke sometimes that hes capable, cuz he admires you so much his admiration turns into self-depricating jokes on occasion. Like "haha omg how are you so good at that i'd totally fuck up somehow." Or like "Can't you just do this for me cuz i seriously can't..!" With a dry lil chuckle. It's okay pookie. ITS OKAY. YOU HAVE NO BUSSINESS BEING ON THIS TULPAR ITS NOT UR FAULT PLEASW.

• He loves ur kisses and touches, it doesn't even have to be sexual. A lil kiss on the cheek or your fingers treading through his hair and tucking it behind his ear is all he needs to make it through the day.

• You try to keep your relationship low-key, not wanting to risk troubles with Pony Express when you get back to earth, but no one on the Tulpar reeeaallyy cares tbh, Which makes Daisuke more bold about it with time. But you, wanting to stay more professional have to remind him "paws off" while on the clock, shoving him away with a giggle.

• Daisuke is so exited to get to share the rest of the night with you, often sneaking into your room when no ones around to nap and take turns on his Game Kid HIHIHI

#daisuke mouthwashing #mouthwashing daisuke #daisuke x reader #daisuke mw #daisuke x you #daisuke juarez #hope this is okay (◕‿◕)

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the-faceless-bride · 2 days ago

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.•. Happier than ever .•.

Ejiro was Mina’s best friend, they’d been close friends since high school. He was also your friend, he’d met you while you were dating Mina; but your relationship ending in a messy way due to miscommunication and assumptions. He tried to help you both but that didn’t work out and he was forced to pick sides. But meeting you again, he’s happier than ever. (This is heavily inspired by @kiribaku-queen )

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•..••..•.•.•.•..•.•.•.•.•.•.•..•.•.

Ejiro wasn’t exactly proud of what he was doing, sneaking around behind one of his best friends backs to meet her ex. But he was your friend too right? Just because you and Mina didn’t exactly get along or… like each other that much. He was still your friend! He was allowed to talk and hang out with you if he wanted to! … right?

It was a huge coincidence when he ran into a that little bar after his patrol, he remembered you when you drunkenly bumped into him.

“Oh! Fuck! I’m so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going and I- Kirishima?” You muttered trying to make yourself smaller before your voice drifted realizing who you were talking to.

“Oh! Hey [Name]… long time no see” he smiled, a bit awkward. Last time you and him had spoken it was him trying to play middle man in Mina and your failing relationship as she accused you of never truly loving her and using her.

You had tried to just turn and forget you ever saw him. But he just couldn’t let you go, he felt he owed you an apology… or something for how he had shut you out and cut you off after your breakup with Mina…

“Hey… um [name]… would you mind maybe having a drink with me?” He asked his voice soft almost afraid you lash and tell him to ‘fuck off’ but instead you blinked before shrugging “I don’t know Kirishima, don’t you think that’s… I don’t know weird?”

“No, not at all! I mean… it’s just a drink for one night… right?”

But it wasn’t. That one drink that one night turned into another a few days later, and coffee in the morning the next week…

Slowly you and Kirishima had started building a friendship again; and he was so happy to finally get the closure he had been hoping for… but then things started to change…

he wanted to feel guilty. He felt guilty because he didn’t feel guilty for starting to falling in love with you…

At first you tried to keep your distance; knowing he was still one of Mina’s best friends in the whole world. Just acquaintances… someone who you met with to have a drink with after a long day. Not a real relationship or friendship…

But the more he pushed himself into your life with his sweet smile and beautiful eyes and big heart you just couldn’t keep pushing him away. So coffee every once in a while turned into movie nights once a week.

He was always a sucker for cheese happy endings, and your movie nights were no exception… “Geez Kiri I didn’t know you were so sappy,” you joked as a pretended to exaggeratedly cry over the couple finally getting together after a mushy confession in the rain, “what! Sappy! This is a beautiful love story [Name]! How can you not be touched!” He explained letting himself fall over to lean into your lap, “tch- you’re such a dork Kiri. Haven’t changed a bit,” you teased laughing as he clutched his chest in fake offense. And for a moment you both stopped and just stared a moment between the two of you. But neither wanting to be the first to move…

more and more days go by the more and more you had also started to feel for him. More than just a friend. He knew it. And so did you. And while you both tried to deny it, you just couldn’t any longer.

You leaned in, stopping just before your lips touched his waiting for him to pull away, but instead he closed the gap. The kiss started soft before getting intense the more he pulled you in.

And before you could think you were in his lap, your fingers ran through his long red hair pulling gently, letting out a soft sigh as you left him lift his hips…

“It’s just a fling ok? We aren’t anything more Kiri.”

“Yeah- yeah, I get that.”

But you both knew the truth.

It was more than ‘just a fling’ you got comfortable; the movie nights, the back rubs, the sweet gestures, the flowers, the candies, the secret date night, and soft kisses, the nights of passion in the dark… it started to feel so real. And so right.

And as just as Ejiro thought he was good a keeping a secret… his friends started to notice.

He was extra cheerful and bubbly and only seemed to be getting more so as the days passed on. And he just couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“Hey Red! You ready to come out and party!!! Climbing the ranks to 5th is cause for a celebration!!” Mina yelp happily as he ran up to give her best friend a hug, she was so proud of all his hard work recently; jumping from the 15th hero to the number 5th hero in Japan. But Ejiro stiffened from her hug, almost shocked at what she said.

“Oh! Well I- uh- I can’t…” Ejiro awkwardly laughed as he gave her a quick hug before pulling away with a lopsided smile, he forgot that was the original plan…

“You… can’t? What do you mean shitty hair, you’re the won who loves the celebratory shit.” Bakugou chimed in with a snark, shocked that his party living best friend turned down the idea, making Denki and Sero also give their input of disappointment.

“Yeah man! What gives?!”

“You bailing on us dude?”

“I’m sorry but I kinda made plans… I just forgot and I don’t know- I just can’t tonight but maybe next week? Yeah?” He offered but was stumbling as he knew they would inevitably ask him the question he was dreading…

“Well… why not? What plans did you make?”

And suddenly Ejiro had no excuse to say, what does he say? He couldn’t say another friend as he’s lost majority of his contacts from high school and he couldn’t say a date as that would make them WANT to meet who ever it was with in the next few days…he definitely could say a particular person…

“Ohh~ could it be that our Big Red has a GiirlFrieend~” Mina obnoxiously announced in a high pitched voice jokingly, but noticing the way Ejiro tensed and the tips of his ears turned red she knew she unknowingly guessed correctly…

But before she could shriek and demand to meet the lucky girl, Ejiro turned around rushing to his car with the excuse of having to get home to his dog…

Bakugou narrowed his eyes in suspicion…

Ejiro had you pushed against the bed grinding against you as he kissed and bit your neck, you smiling as you gently push against him telling him to at least take his hero gear off first.

“Ejiro you cannot rip this again, you remember what happened the last time-“

Ejiro let out a soft groan remembering the rough night, he had come back to the apartment after a frustrating day full of long boring patrols and nagging interviews with questions that tried to look to far into his personal life for his liking. He had you pinned as soon as he saw you… you had so many hickies and bite the next morning along with a throbbing feeling between your legs reminding you of how rough Ejiro had been with you.

It was killing him to keep you in the dark… he wanted to show you off to the world…

*Knock Knock Knock*

Just as Ejiro had stripped himself down to his boxers and you just a your shirt and underwear a loud knock started at his door, who ever it was wasn’t leaving until he answered…

“Just- fuck- One sec!” He rushed to grab some baggy sweatpants in an attempt to try and hide his erection from whomever was at the door.

“Yeah, yeah. How can I help- you…” Ejiro trailed off, standing at his door was his friends… all four of them…

“What- what are you guys doing here!” He whispered trying not to alarm you in the other room. “Well! Since YOU didn’t wanna party with us, we thought we would bring the party to you!”

Ejiro was at a loss, what was he meant to do? He couldn’t let them in here!

Ejiro scrambled to wedge himself in the door way before Mina could squeeze her way in, “Eji? What’s your problem? Let me in, I’m sure your little friend won’t mind~” she teased, but her playful demeanor quickly turned sour when she heard a familiar voice, “babe?! Who’s at the door? What’s taking you so long?”

A long pause before Sero spoke up, “dude… is that [Name]…”

And suddenly everyone exploded, Denki and Sero firing question after question about ‘when,where,how, and why? Why would he do this?!”

Bakugou asking him why out of all the people in the world would he chose you? Especially after your and Mina’s relationship…

And Mina. Mina just stared at him. Betrayal and anger…

And with all the chaos he remembers that you were still in his bedroom… waiting for him. Probably hearing everything that is being said about you… and he just couldn’t sit here and listen to it.

“Ok! You know what? it’s non of your business ok?!”

“None of my business!? None of my-?! EJIRO YOU’RE FUCKING MY EX AND ITS NONE OF MY BUSINESS?! WHAT IS THIS?! YOU JUST-“

“NO! NO OK?! FUCK IT I AM IN LOVE WITH [NAME] AND SHE IS IN LOVE WITH ME! AND SHES AMAZING AND NOT THE PERSON YOU THINK SHE IS!”

“OH AND YOU DO?! You think you KNOW HER?! You FUCK MY EX and now you think you know her?!” Mina shouts staring at him as if he had just told her he hated her guts,

“dont ANY of you sit there and look at me like that! Ok?! Mina, I didn’t fuck your girlfriend ok you’ve been broken up for 6 years and you’ve never even mentioned her name so don’t act like you actually fucking care! And even if you did I DONT CARE and you can all sit here and judge me if you want but I don’t care! Ok?! I don’t care anymore because I have NEVER been happier!”

Ejiro struggles to get the air back into his lungs as he stands in the doorway, probably ruining the last of his real friendships…

At least he has you…

#bnha x reader #bnha kirishima #mha kirishima #eijirou kirishima x reader #kirishima x reader #mha bakugou #mha bakugo katsuki #mha mina #mha mina ashido #mha denki #mha kaminari #mha denki kaminari #mha sero #mina x reader #mha x reader #bnha x

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pshenyasstuff · 1 year ago

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I don’t understand why there is so little content on tumblr with scarab and reader((

#fionna and cake #scarab #scarab x reader #he's just staring at you on your weird date #i love him so much #dirty art #idk how to tag this

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foldingfittedsheets · 8 months ago

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My nana maternal grandmother who taught me swears had one of the most ridiculous pet names for her cat when I was growing up. For reasons known only to her, she simply called the cat: Kitty Kitty Meow Meow. The creature in question was an absolute love bug and lived to be almost twenty.

When I was dating my last boyfriend Brendan we ended up living with his mom briefly before we moved up north together, and his sister lived at home too. One day I was sitting in the kitchen and heard Brendan call teasingly to his sister, “Okay, Miss Kitty Kitty Meow Meow!”

His sister laughed but my head shot up. “What did you just say?”

Brendan ambled over to me, “Oh, it’s an old inside joke. There was this one day I was riding the bus to Charlie’s house and I heard this girl on the bus say her grandma’s cat was named Kitty Kitty Meow Meow. It was so stupid I rushed home to tell my sister. It’s like naming a dog Doggy Doggy Bark Bark.” He was hysterically giggling just relating this story.

I stared at him.

I said, “Charlie and I were on the same bus route.”

He blinked, his giggles tapering down and slowly started to frown.

“That girl was me. That is the name of my nana’s cat.”

It turned out that while Brendan, a year younger than me, had never met me before we both graduated high school, he had apparently sat behind me once on the bus and turned a brief snippet of my life into a meme with his sister. Then a decade later we met through Charlie in college and went on to date. We were both flabbergasted by this coincidence.

But there was one more twist in store for me. I told my family about the way our paths had crossed before we ever dated and they thought it was hilarious.

Then a few weeks later I got a frantic call from my parents while they were in California visiting my paternal grandmother.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?”

There was weird excited static and thumps as the phone passed around and I heard my dad in the background urging my grandma, “Tell her!”

My grandma said ponderously, “You know my cats name is Kiki.”

“Of course, it’s a really cute name.”

“Your dad wants me to tell you the full thing.”

My eyes widened. I could not believe what was about to happen to me but I knew it was coming.

“Her name is Ki-Ki Meow Meow.”

I got it on both sides. Both my grandmas, in different states, with no contact, had named their cats the same silly ridiculous thing. I immediately ran to tell Brendan who laughed so hard he almost threw up.

#ramblies #funny #ffs foibles #writing #story #kitty kitty meow meow #coincidence #brendan #family lore

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robinsgrl · 4 months ago

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rafe with a clingy and weird girl.

weird girl masterlist

main masterlist

rafe wasn’t always so buff. when you two first started dating he was sorta lanky. you would pinch his thin arms and tease him. when he starts buffing out? holy shit you can’t get enough of him.

he’s come home from the gym and the first thing you do is shove your face into his chest, inhaling him as you rub your face against his pecs. he wraps his arm around your head, practically suffocating you in him. “mell goo.” you mumble into his chest. your hand slowly trails up and you squeeze his pec. like it’s a boob. he hisses and smacks your hand away, shoving you playfully.

you pout, “i wanna squeeze.”

he snickers out a laugh, smacking your hand away from him again. “leave me alone.”

this brightens you up. “are you ticklish?” your tone is teasing, fingers twiddling at him.

he lets out a full bodied laugh at this, pushing your hands away again. “get off, weirdo.”

“just let me honk your tit and i’ll stop”

“i don’t have tits.”

“dude, they’re staring right at me”

“im not your dude”

“okay my beautiful dude let me honk it”

“im feeling very sexualized”

another time when you guys are getting ready for bed. he’s brushing his teeth and you’re applying under eye cream. his arms look absolutely delicious, flexing soflty as he keeps brushing. you can’t control yourself.

you chomp down on his bicep. he stares at you completely bewildered. “did you bithe me?” mouth full of toothpaste

“you looked yummy” you say it lamely. as if it’s no big deal

“you’re like a dog”

“only like? Let’s solidify that” you chomp the air

he laughs, playfully shoving your face away from him.“get away from me”

“come on, it’s just cute aggression. I need to get it out”

“cute aggression? you think im cute??”

you shrug again, nodding. “i’ll show you cute baby,” he scoops you up trodding you over to your shared bed as you laugh happily. “it’s my turn to honk and bite you”

#rafe cameron thoughts #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron blurb #obx blurb #outer banks blurb #idky this came to me #but it did #weird girl!reader

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holeforzenin · 3 months ago

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𝜗𝜚˚⋆ GRIMY OLD MAN TOJI<3

Tw- honestly don’t read this unless you’re weird af. Toji’s a PERV. Somno, daddy kink, light anal play, squirting, not proofread one bit.

Grimy old man Toji! who’s cock immediately starts twitching in his pants with sheer excitement when you disclosed to him that you’re still a virgin and wasn't very experienced in the sex department on your first date.

As the words left your mouth, Toji's weathered face lit up with a lecherous grin. His jaded eyes narrowed, revealing hunger as it slowly roamed over the smooth valley of your exposed tits. he already knows he’s going to have so much fun with you. "Well, ain't that a treat" he rasped, his voice gravelly and filled with intent. "Don't worry doll, I'll take good care of ya, I can even teach you a thing or two".

Grimy old man Toji! who’s sickly infatuated with the relatively noticeable size difference between the two of you. The way your big, beautiful eyes peer up at him while his massive frame is towering over your smaller figure— a lustful glint floating in your eyes as you stared up at the older man, fully paying attention to the words coming out his mouth like a good girl while he spoke to you.

You look so cute and innocent, he’d be lying if he says he can’t make out the dark red hearts gleaming in your eyes. it makes him want to slap his leaky cock across your face and watch as his pearlescent pre-cum drips and moistens your soft skin.

Grimy old man Toji! who loves rubbing your sticky pussy while you’re peacefully sleeping next to him at night— he lowly chuckles to himself when he hears the adorable, involuntary whimpers that escape your rosy lips as your face scrunches into unbidden pleasure from his touch. He fucking loves how sensitive and delicate you are. His gnarled fingers, rough from years of labor, glided smoothly over your soft thighs to softly pinch your messy folds.

Your pink, dainty panties are slightly pulled down to your upper thigh, allowing him to gain more access to your sex as his lengthy fingers trace teasing circles on your sensitive clit— being so careful he doesn’t wake you up or he’d just might have to fuck you back to sleep and he wouldn’t want to ruin his poor girl’s sleeping schedule. His breath heavy with anticipation fogged the air as he leaned closer, his piercing eyes fixated on the moistening bud between your legs. So pretty.

Grimy old man Toji! who shamelessly stares at your round ass any graceful chance he gets— As soon as you get up to go somewhere or grab anything, his eyes quickly leaves the television and zero in on the subtle sway of your ass like a damn vulture. watching how the chubby flesh bounces as you walk away. His wet tongue immediately dragging over his lips and licking his faded scar, hungrily.

His perverted cock instantly stifled at the alluring sight as he imagines his rough hands forcefully gripping your hips still and rubbing his aching dick between your supple cheeks and watches as it disappears between them.

Grimy old man Toji! who has a interesting habit of stuffing his face into your sloppy pussy while you’re lying on your stomach, engrossed in a book. His face is buried between your butt, his nose digging between your creamy folds as he desperately stiffs your drooling cunt like some gross pervert. Both of his hands are caressing the curves of your ass— spreading it apart even more so he can smell better.

When he’s done with your pussy, he quickly shifts his focus to your small puckering hole. Toji’s a fair man so it would be both disrespectful and unfortunate to leave any of his girl’s pretty holes neglected. Especially with how preciously the little hole was winking up at him while he was teasing your pussy— clearly longing for some attention as well.

When his grizzled fingers found their way to your tight, untouched entrance, he couldn't help but cooed at the way the hole clenched at his touch. With taunting slowness, he circled the rim, teasing it with the pad of his thumb, making it flutter and yearn for more. A loud husky laugh escapes his lips when he spots how much your cunt is gushing out more juices from his lewd action. "You're a dirty slut baby, did me playing with your little ass get you this wet?" he chuckles, licking his lips. “Yer so filthy for enjoying this”.

Grimy old man Toji! with his strong, sturdied hands and teasing smirk has a “peculiar” way of showing affection— he loves lifting you onto his lap, making sure to place you down directly on his hard, veiny erection so your warm pussy is nestled right on top of the clothed bulge. His angry tip nudges between your slicked folds, parting them and making you feel as if you were sitting on a hard bump.

His calloused hands are firmly gripping your waist, holding you down so you don’t try to get off of him. Soon enough it'll get way too hard to ignore it when he starts grinding your clothed core on the huge, tented bulge for friction.

Grimy old man Toji! who convinces you to wear a jeweled plug while the two of you were invited to his clan’s meeting. He’s sitting in the chair next to you with a sprawling manspread to cover up the traces of his aroused cock, his hand shamelessly buried under your kimono. Long, skilled fingers swiftly toyed with the pink-heart indent of the plug that’s warmly nestled in your asshole. He loves tugging on it harshly when you're least expecting, your soft, adorable mewls only fueling him and sending more blood rushing to his length.

He wiggles the plug inside of you, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he watches your feeble attempts to hide your sinful expressions. The coolness of the metal grazes against the tight walls of your core with each deliberate motion he makes. Who knows maybe he’ll make some fuck ass excuse to go to the bathroom and replace the plug with his fat cock, filling up the cute little gape.

Grimy old man Toji! who's soo obsessed with making your frothy cunny squirt all over his cock while he’s mindlessly drilling your stupid brains out in full Nelson — yes, of course he knew he always does an amazing job at pounding you into a mindless little slut everytime he dicks you down but having you make a filthy mess with your pussy straying out liquid like a water fountain all over his balls and thighs— soaking his whole mattress was the sweet cherry on top.

He lets out a deep, sultry snicker when he hears how disgustingly sopping your little pussy is for him as he’s cramming his entire length into the tight space— his sharp mushroom tip repeatedly bopping against your musty g-spot with every fast thrust of his hips into of you. Every prominent vein on his rigid length glides along your inner walls, eliciting a sensation so intense that your entire body quivers and your toes curl inside of your patterned socks.

His fingers are deeply ensnared in the soft flesh of your thighs, his grip possessive as he restrained them against the rhythmic movements of your bouncing breasts while he thrust into you with the unrelenting force of a madman from underneath. His larger frame effortlessly carried your weight, making your mind hazy from Toji‘s unbelievably powerful strength. The furrow of your brow and the tears welling in your eyes were like a literal testament to the overwhelming sensation of how hard and mercilessly he was invading your tender pussy. He truly has no pity.

But no matter what, your pussy couldn’t stop leaking all over the poor man’s cock. A rich, creamy mess coated every inch of his pulsating shaft as his muscular thighs trembled. The loud, nasty squelching echoed loudly, making your face red— knowing exactly what was to come.

“Come on girl, squirt on my fucking cock. I know you can do it” he urged with a loud groan at the tight squeeze of your compressed walls around him from his orders. He knows exactly how much you enjoy it when he tells you what to do and luckily for you, he sooo happens to be bossy as well. “Make a mess for Daddy, come onn you can do it baby”.

He plants a gentle kiss on your shoulder blade before anchoring his heels stiffly against the mattress. With a precise movement, he lifted you slightly, adjusting the angle to hit your sweet spot even better. Your back arches against his abs instinctively, pressing your chest forward. “S’close daddy, m’so close!” You cried out, your pulsating hole fluttering around his shaft uncontrollably, desperate to drain his heavy-filled balls.

"That’s it, you’re so fucking wet f’me. Leaking like a nasty fucking slut” he growled in a tone filled with desire, causing his voice to sound hoarse. “Let it go, need ya to squirt like a fucking fountain all over me, ya hear me?”

His cock was throbbing like crazy, veins bulging, the head swollen with blood. Your moans turn into desperate pleas as you clawed at his beefy forearm.

His thrusts are so deep and unforgiving. You can feel the tip pounding against your cervix as he ravages your poor little cunt like a feral beast. Toji never holds back when he fucks you— the thing is he fucking can’t. Not when your pussy is this warm and heavenly, it makes him lose his mind and control the literal second his swollen tip breaches into your slicked entrance.

Your breathing quickly turns into puffs of air, tongue lolling out from your gaping mouth. “Oh fuckkk—“.

You were seeing white at this point. The pressure quickly tightened in your stomach, feeling a million more times intense than it normally felt. Your body jolts on top of his from the foreign sensation, so overwhelmed that you didn’t notice the muscular hand that snaked its way to your clit, frantically rubbing the pulsating bud as your whole body tenses, and your vision blurs white. You cry into the late night as the wash of pleasure crashes throughout your being; it has a rush you’ve never felt before but it leaves you utterly gratified.

“D-daddy m’gonna– Ohh!” you whine and babble, your clouded mind makes it so hard to form any complete and coherent sentences anymore from the intense pleasure.

“Fuckfuckfuck that’s it, thatsss it”. He grunted, biting his bottom lip enough to make it bleed as his cock twitches at the sight of you squirting in front of him, the translucent liquid spurting all over the place and coating his thick shaft and body as your pussy fluttered around him over and over.

“Atta girl, Atttaa girl. God, this pussy is so fucking slutty, was made just f'me, wasn't she baby?" he purrs into your ear, praising you and attempting to calm you down while he helps you ride out your high. His relentless hips never stop rutting inside of you, trying to savor the mess as much as possible. It was so overstimulating, your whole head goes blurry from everything. His long fingers still abusing your clit, making your whole body shake on top of his.

“Toji— fuck! s’much stopstop fuck!” You cried out, your sharp nails violently sinking into his beefy forearm of the fingers that are assaulting your sensitive clit— definitely leaving more nasty scars.

“Shh shh baby, don’t be a greedy girl. Daddy has to cum too”.

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scented-morker · 3 months ago

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DDA: dorm displays of affection

Being a famous idol means PDA is out of the question, but not dorm displays. Alternatively, ways the enha boys show you’re theirs while in the dorms with their other members 🤭

1.5k words, idol!enha x gf!reader, this is fem reader, about 200 words a piece… no warnings i think, flufff, some are more general than others, im sorry 😔

Heeseung

Always has you sat on his lap.

Literally does not matter where you are or what you’re doing, you are not allowed next to him

Even if it’s a movie night and EVERY SINGLE member is there so you think ‘surely I can sit by myself this time, it’d be so weird for us to be cuddled up like that in front of everyone’

WRONG 🚨🚨

As soon as you sit down next to him, he looks at you like you’ve lost your mind

The pout comes out

“What are you doing?” 🥺

Genuinely looks so confused that you’re sitting anywhere else

“Hee, all the boys are here.”

Looks at you like ‘and since when do I gaf??’

Grabs your waist with one hand and pulls you into his lap himself 🤭

None of the boys bat a single eye

“Everyone knows this is where you belong baby” he says, kissing your temple and wrapping his arms around your midsection

Ignores you literally combusting

Jay

The definition of princess treatment

You can literally just turn your brain off when you’re around Jay

You haven’t touched a single door since the two of you started dating

He opens the car door, the door to the dorm, even his bedroom door

( he has your location turned on so he gets a notification when you’re close and can be there to open the door for you as soon as you arrive at their dorm)

One of the first times he took you out, you opened the door for yourself and he slid across the car hood to close it again and re open it before you had time to get out 🙄

(He looked really silly but you tell him it was cool)

Pulls your chair out even when you’re just eating dinner with the guys

Cue the boys exchanging looks and whip cracking motions 🤪

If you’re walking best bet he’s on the outside of the sidewalk and his hand is on your lower back, guiding you

You didn’t realize how much you stopped thinking around him until once when he was guiding you through the hall and he literally had to stop you from running into Sunghoon

It’s not your fault, you’re just a girl 🎀

Jake

NICKNAMES GALORE

The boys actually didn’t know your name for like a solid six months bc he NEVER said it

“My girlfriend is coming over” he’d announce

“Your girlfriend that is…?”

“Pretty?” He has no idea what they’re talking about

As soon as you get there all they hear out of his mouth are ‘pretty girl’ and ‘sweet angel’

Like hello you have a name 🤨

“C’mere pretty girl” as soon as you open the door

“What do you think, princess?” He asks your input as the boys decide what to watch

😵‍💫😵‍💫 sike, you don’t even need a name, he can call you whatever he likes

The boys like to tease him when they need you two for something

“Yes Jake, can you and your pookie wookie bear please join us in the kitchen for a moment?”

“Hey Jake, does your schnookums like cream in her coffee?”

He really doesn’t call you those, but anything out of his mouth might as well be to the guys

“Yes my beautiful girlfriend who is an angel on earth does like cream thank you very much. Lots of it.”

He does not care at all, he thinks you’re the sweetest thing ever and deserve to be reminded of it every time he talks to you

Sunghoon

Bro CANNOT FOCUS when you’re around it’s actually so bad

The boys have probably seen you guys kiss like twice but the amount of times they’ve had to smack him upside the head bc he’s zoned out staring at you???

♾️

He has the biggest heart eyes, if it was possible to love you anymore he’d probably actually develop heart shaped retinas

“Hoon? Hoon?” Heeseung calls his name four times before following his line of sight and seeing you filling a glass of water

“You’re so embarrassing.”

The boys approach you with anything they have to tell him because the only way he snaps out of it is if someone else joins you

He’ll be in space for 20 minutes but the second one of the guys walks up to you he’s right there

“Why are you talking to my girlfriend?”

(Yes I’m thinking about that fansign where he said no to everything 🤫)

The managers were gonna let you come to filming one time but the boys said ABSOLUTELY NOT

Hoon could not be in a five mile radius of you without getting dating rumors he was down so bad

Sunoo

This man loves you so bad he does not care who sees

Greets you at the door with a bone crushing hug and kisses all over your face

(The boys make faces at each other while they listen to his loud ‘mwah’s from the living room)

You flush when you walk in and realize they all heard it, but Sunoo pays them no mind, leading you by the hand to where he has a bouquet of flowers and your favorite coffee on the table

He’ll take you into the living room where the rest of the guys are playing games just so he can sit there with his arm around you while you enjoy your drink

Even when he gets into a fight with Sunghoon and starts yelling with his hands they’re still attached to you

One time he accidentally poked you in the eye while gesturing and he felt so bad he almost cried

Kissed it to make it better only to have the guys start throwing pillows at him for being “gross in the communal area”

“Fine, I’ll go kiss my girlfriend in peace!”

Now you’re a blushing mess that they all know 🫠

“Don’t be embarrassed baby, they’re just mad I have the prettiest girlfriend ever”

Jungwon

He takes care of you SO BAD

The boys teased him the first time they saw him stop to tie your shoes for you, but never again

Will be cooking the most delicious smelling thing in the world and smack the boys hands when they try to steal it

“This is for yn” 😠

Braids your hair, zips your jacket, honestly just fawns over you like a grandma 😭

“It’s cold out. You should bring a jacket!”

“But wonnnn, I don’t want to” you’d whine but does he care?

His baby is not getting sick on his watch

Not only does he pick your jacket, but he also puts it on for you, zips it up, and puts on a matching hat

Imagine the boys reaction when the two of you go out one night and won comes back barefoot 😭

But your heels hurt and he wasn’t about to have that ‼️ so he gave you his shoes and carried your heels the rest of the way home

(The same heels that he insisted on clasping for you while you sat at his vanity)

‘Down astronomically bad’ Jay would cough as won leads you back to his room

Jungwon just thinks you should never have to do anything yourself 🤷‍♀️

“You just sit there and look pretty, I’ll get it” 🫣

Riki

Is quite literally always hanging off of you

Nonchalant my booty, when he’s in the comfort of his own home with the people who know him best… his facade goes down the drain

If you’re standing up at all— washing dishes, doing your hair, even standing in the living room having a conversation with one of his members

Without him??? I think not 🤨

Literally drapes himself across your back, hanging his arms over your shoulders and dropping his chin on top of your head

“Hi ki!” You chirp, turning around to see him staring, arms still locked around you

“Why are you doing that?” He asks

He doesn’t want you doing ANYTHING in his dorm.

Why are you even doing dishes? That’s his hyung’s job. Doing your hair??? For who? You will not be seen by anyone for the next 1-3 business days if it’s up to him

And if you’re talking to one of the members 🙄

He won’t say anything, but if you’ve kept talking for more than 2 minutes after he’s showed up, he’ll pinch your side and shoot daggers at whoever you’re talking to until the two of you give up

“No need to get moody, I’ll give you your girlfriend back,” Jake rolls his eyes

That’s what he was waiting for ‼️

Throws you over his shoulder and takes you right back to his room where you will never be heard from again!! (Until dinner time)

4K notes · View notes

simpjaes · 7 months ago

Text

CUNNILINGUIST ― s.jy (ft. p.sh)

Unfortunately for you, no man has ever given you some good head. Fortunately for you, your best friend is more annoyed by it than you are. It’s just a favor, right? or the one where your best friend jake eats you out as a way to admit his own feelings for you, also, apparently sunghoon existing is an issue.

minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog to give bestie jake conflicting feelings

WORDCOUNT― 16.1 k

PAIRING― jake x afab reader (ft. sunghoon)

CONTENT― a lot of waiting, like to the point it even annoyed me, very fluffy stuff , typical best friends to fuck buddies to “actually, I had feelings this whole time”, jealousy, jake is whiny and needy when he’s horny, reader thinks it’s cute. angst if you’re a baby about it

OTHER CHARACTERS― sunghoon as the mutual friend who bangs reader

NOTE― this was originally written by me on my other blog [@/ncteez], if you’ve read it before, that’s why!

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― BIG DICKED BESTIE, pussy eating (he gets IN THERE), masturbation in the form of dry humping a mattress and then into his hand, finger fucking, cum eating, sunghoon hook up, morning sex, lazy fingering, lazy fuck, dirty talk , unprotected sex, awkward build up,raw grinding, no blowjob in sight sorry lmao, deep penetration, cream pie, kind of cum stuffing but like not entirely intentional, cheesy love stuff

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“What? Again?” Jake says, leaning back against the couch with a groan and a smack to his own forehead.

“Yeah, so basically he went down on me for less than a minute but expected me to, like, go long enough to ‘swallow’ or whatever.” You continue the story in a frustrated huff, shaking your head in self-pity.

Jake groans louder, leaning himself forward again and swiping his drink from your coffee table to take a long and thoughtful sip.

“How many times is that, then?” He says between sips, glancing around the room as if he’s in deep thought. “I can’t help but think you pick these kinds of guys on purpose at this point.”

You look at him in mock pain, grabbing his drink and taking your own thoughtful sip of it.

“I dunno, they always talk big game during phone sex and stuff. I figure eventually one of them will live up to it.” You drone on, internally marking your recent date’s name off of your call-back list.

“Be honest with me, have you ever actually gotten good head? Like how would you know if they’re bad if you have nothing good to compare them to?” Jake asks, letting you mindlessly drink his beverage.

It’s not weird to be having these types of conversations with him, if at all, something would seem off if you didn’t. He’s the only person in your life that you’ve ever felt this close to. At this point, you think he’d have to chase you down with a bloody hatchet for things to be awkward. Which is…kind of interesting, you guess.

“Well, I mean,” You think for a moment too long for his liking, but he gives you the space to finish your answer. “It feels good and all but it’s not like I’ve ever gotten off by it.”

“Correction –” Jake starts, blinking right at you. “You’ve never been given the chance to get off on it.” His bright smile shows through his words, and you’re sure he’s mocking you at this point.

“Yeah, yeah. Yada, yada. I have terrible taste in sexual partners but to be fair, it’s not like the pool is that big to choose from.”

He nods in agreement, humming as if to end the conversation and still watching you sip at his drink.

“Would you be opposed to–” He pauses, making eye contact with you. “Y’know, I could do it for you.”

You pause, nearly dropping his drink out of your hand but thankfully your grip actually tightens on it instead. You swallow as you look at him, searching his face to see if this is some kind of joke.

“Jae-fucking-yun,” You deadpan, sitting his cup back down on your coffee table and leaning toward him, staring him down. “You’d really do that, for me?”

You bat your eyelashes at him, mostly playing it off as a half-joke just to see if he’s fucking with you or not.

“How else are you gonna experience it?”

You stare him down harder.

“You say that like you’re some sort of pussy-eating-god,” You narrow your eyes. “Are you?”

He shrugs casually with his little smile, leaning back on your couch and stretching his arms out. One of his hands lands behind your shoulder and you lean into it.

“I’d let you be the judge of that if you’re up for it.”

Finally, you decide that he’s definitely not joking and you’re definitely gonna do it because like, that’s your best friend. Experiencing your firsts with him comes almost as naturally as walking. You had your first kiss with him, albeit it was a dare. You experienced your first concert with him, your first break up, your first failed exam, and even your first legal drink in a club. What’s so bad about letting him eat you out?

“Right now?” You ask, quirking your brow and tilting your head.

“Now, tomorrow, next week. Whenever.” He runs his hands through his hair as he says it and only now are you starting to really tune into his features that you’ve already found handsome.

Day after day you’ve seen him on this couch and in other states of dress without really thinking twice about how his lips would feel on you (despite that short first kiss). You’ve seen him kissing all up on other people, you’ve seen him in the club with wet lips from alcohol, you’ve seen him all messy and eating spaghetti at his parent’s house– but for some reason, his lips seem different now. His sleepy eyes seem different, his messy hair seems like something that should be tugged on, his fucking jawline–

“Why’re you staring at me like that?” He looks at you up and down as if he’s judging. “You wanna go right now?”

You nod slowly, letting the traces of any lusty thoughts you’ve had about him in your life come to the front in waves. Then you quickly shake your head.

“Wait, no,” You roll your eyes more at yourself than him. “I haven’t showered since my date, maybe I should, uh…”

“Uh – yeah. Please do.” He grimaces, that same dopey smile coming back after a moment.

“Fair.” You roll your eyes. “Gonna go shower then.”

Part of you wonders if like, he’s being totally legit. For all you know, you’ll get out of the shower and he’ll be too busy doing something else, or like, he’ll go home or something. No hurt in seeing though.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

In the bathroom, you can’t help the feeling in your chest at even the thought that this may be about to happen.

Excitement. That’s what you feel. Not because it’s Jake. Well, maybe a little bit because you wanna see what his tongue is all about but more so because you’re about to get some presumably good head.

You shower thoughtfully, cleaning every part of your body and feeling little goosebumps rise and fall with each sensation of your air conditioning snaking its way past your shower doors. When you get out, you lotion your body so you’re all nice and soft and brush your teeth just in case things go a little further. You’re not expecting it to, but y’know, nothing wrong with having fun if it comes to it.

After all, he’s doing you a favor by going down on you, the least you can do is smell good, be soft, and totally prepared for if he were to suggest more, right? Right. Anyway, you’re all showered up and opt to just let your hair do its own thing as you throw on your shirt and shorts. You ignore the panties at this point, because why not?

When you get back to the living room, Jake isn’t there. Naturally, you check your bedroom and there he is, still his normal self and lounging against your headboard while flipping through videos on his phone.

“And she’s back,” he comments, reaching a hand out as if to invite you to your own bed. “Change your mind yet?”

“Not even for a second,” you smile as you take a spot in front of him, your entire body facing him as you pull your knees up and lay your chin against your arms. “Have you?”

He seems to fall into a more serious tone now, locking his phone before tossing it to the side and flicking his eyes up to look at you, scanning your legs in the shorts.

“No,” he chokes back, shocked to see straight between the gap of your shorts and actually lay eyes on the point of this whole situation for the first time. “And you’re not wearing anything under those shorts.”

You watch his face and the way it turns from your best friend into something you’ve seen time and time again from men you’ve gone home with. It’s sexy on him though, for some reason.

“Figured I’d save you the trouble?”

He smiles, now moving himself toward you and reaching a hand behind to cradle your head.

“Lay back,” he says softly, in a voice you’ve only heard a few times from him, “you could have left the shorts off too though.” He adds with an even softer laugh.

For some reason, it makes you feel shy. His hand guiding you to lay back all while grabbing the pillow from behind him and placing it under your head so that you’re nice and comfortable. You watch him look at you and honestly, it’s in a way you can’t remember him ever looking at you before. If this is how he looks at other women, you may be a little jealous.

It feels more intense right now than you thought it would.

“You’re being weird.” You say offhandedly, looking away from him and trying to keep the heat from flushing to your cheeks.

“You’re letting me eat you out, how am I being weird?” He leans up from you, putting two hands on your knees but still waiting for your eyes to meet his again. “You want me to act like the other dudes? Dip my tongue in then wrap it up?”

You groan, rolling your eyes back to him and analyzing the way his big hands drape over your knees.

“Okay, fair.” You admit defeat, feeling his warm palms move down the back of your thighs and to your ass.

“Lift up,” He says, quickly pulling the shorts off of you when you do as he asks.

“Oh–” He gasps quietly. “Damn.”

He stares directly between your legs, bracing his hands back at your knees and spreading your legs a bit. He angles his head in different ways to really look at you, seemingly enamored with your pussy as a whole.

“Look who’s staring now.” You chuckle, instinctively hiding your face from him despite knowing he isn’t looking up at you.

“Yeah– I am,” he admits, now adjusting himself on the bed to lay down, his head easily slotting between your legs as he rests his chin on your lower belly and looks up at you. “You can pull my hair or do whatever, I’m just gonna…like, start I guess. Tell me if it’s something you don’t like.”

As normal as this isn’t, he’s speaking similar to how the two of you had taken on projects before. He typically takes the lead but offers you control more often than not. All you can do is nod at him, trying to comprehend that it’s your best friend’s head between your legs right now.

When he pulls his head back up with one last nod of confirmation, the first thing you feel is his fingers slipping up your folds, the other braced on your thigh and holding your legs open. You release a short sigh of relief at the feeling and he instantly smirks at it.

“I haven’t even started yet,” He whispers, glancing up at you before fixing his eyes back on the expanse of your pussy. He uses his ring and pointer finger to spread your lips open, and the middle finger to rub against your hole only for a brief moment before he licks his lips and releases his own sigh of relief. “God, Sunghoon would be so jealous right now.”

You look down at him, wanting to ask him what the fuck he’s talking about and why he’d bring up Sunghoon right now, but you find yourself staring at him instead. Breath caught in your throat with the way his eyes meet yours before letting his tongue hang from his mouth as if presenting it to you in a cheeky way.

He’s so fast with it too, with the way he replaces his middle finger with his tensed tongue, forcing you to swallow your words and hold your breath even more. You can feel him lick and nibble against each of your lips before moving inward, flattening his tongue to lick one long, languid, and wet stripe up until meeting your clit.

He wraps his lips around it, sucking once, hard, before releasing it and pulling back to look at you.

“This okay?”

Goddamn him for making you have to talk right now. You’re still trying to comprehend the fact that he said Sunghoon, fucking Sunghoon of all people would be jealous that he’s doing this right now. That’s definitely a question for later, because yeah, it’s fucking okay.

More than okay.

You nod to him, throwing your arm over your eyes and instinctively bucking your hips up towards his hovering mouth.

“Oh, that was hot,” He groans out his compliment, watching the way you hide your face before he pulls his eyes back down and uses his fingers to spread your pussy open wider, enough to see your hole pulsate when he dips down to blow against it, “I can see how wet you’re getting, Is it because of me or is it just because someone is playing with your pussy?”

You half groan half moan at that, mostly because hearing these words from him is something that feels entirely too sexual. As if he hasn’t already tasted you, as if you’re not spread out by his fingers right now. You ignore his words, yet, your brain holds onto them with white knuckles and your hips buck toward him again.

“Not a talker, got it.” He notes, watching your hips chase his breath.

He watches for much longer than you’d like for him to, and you’re about to lift up and accuse him of being just like the other guys but he shuts your thoughts off so fucking fast when you feel his lips on you again.

His tongue explores every part of you, licking and sucking against areas you didn’t even know would feel good until his mouth lands against your clit again. This time, you can’t help it, you grind up and he hums at it as he braces your legs open just enough to skew his head and move his tongue back down.

He’s slurping. Lost in the moment as he does it. Tasting you in full and getting a warm, pleasant feeling each time your legs try to close and your hips buck up for more. He…can’t believe this is finally happening. Fucking finally.

Unsure if you’d let him, he tries anyway. He stiffens his tongue, circling your hole before pressing just a bit, giving you just enough pressure that you feel frustrated. So frustrated that you’re the one who ends up finishing his attempt at something new. You reach down and lace your fingers in his hair, and let out a soft, needy little moan for him.

That sound forces one from his chest too, he can’t help it, really. With the way you’re grabbing his hair and holding his head in place, pressing yourself against his mouth so much harder than before. Ah, he really, really loves doing this for you.

To think any man would already be done? To think anyone could like, not wanna eat you out? Insanity. Stupid, stupid fucking men.

He can taste how wet you are now, truly taste it as he stretches your hole as much as he can with his tongue and another groan of his own. It’s probably embarrassing, truly, but he doesn’t care.

Both of you are moaning at this point as you hold his head in place and grind your hips harder than you think you are. He loves it, you love it. So much that you really are barely comprehending that your best friend could do this the whole time?! And never told you until now?!

Jake is just as drunk on the moment as you are though. Totally lost in the scent and taste of you as he continues to lap away, constantly trying to prove that you can and will get off from his mouth alone. And honestly? It’s at the point that he figures he can use his fingers now too considering you let him spread you open with his tongue. What’s a little more gonna hurt, anyway?

The taste of you alone has him in heaven, cursing any man who didn’t take advantage of your pussy against their mouth. He can easily slip a finger into a hole this wet and needy, gasping in awe before glancing up at you.

God, the way you immediately ride his finger, no huff or sound of irritation that he’s pulled his tongue back now. Your face. Fuck.

He watches as you shamelessly chase the small amount of pleasure he can offer in terms of just head and fingering. He can imagine how hot you’d be without that shirt on, with your legs around his hips, with your mouth wrapped around him. You look blissed out, soaking his finger and keeping your hand in his hair, mindlessly grabbing and scratching at him.

Making quick work, he goes back for your clit, circling his tongue around the bundle of nerves and noticing how you ride his finger harder. He can’t help but smirk against you when you do it either.

The movement of your hips constantly humping against him is enough, and he can’t help but groan at the sound of your slick squelching out of you and warming his chin, he can’t fucking help but grind his own hips forward when you act like this. His cock is so painfully hard for you right now, at the taste of you, that all he can do is chase the mattress beneath him. Tensing his muscles and moaning against your clit shamelessly at the jolts of pleasure he gets from it.

He slips another finger in with ease, feeling how much wetter you’ve gotten in the way the slide is filthy and audible. You groan out at that too, feeling his tongue flick relentlessly against your clit and only now moving your free hand from your face and trailing to your stomach.

You can’t even talk, so you don’t. You lift your shirt up until you can at least rub against your nipples, just to heighten the pleasure your best friend is so graciously giving you.

His eyes roll back when you do that, only to fall back on you and get a frustrated grunt from him. He’s a bit annoyed that the shirt is still covering you despite your hand under it, fondling yourself. He’s thinking with his cock, so fucking aroused that he doesn’t think twice when he aggressively lifts your shirt up to your chin and watches the way your fingers poke and prod at yourself.

He inhales a sharp breath at the image, and his hips fuck harder against the mattress at that. His fingers speed up and now he’s focused. You feel him all over you from the waist down, his tongue flicking and lips sucking against your swollen clit, his fingers relentlessly fucking into you, your fingers heightening those sensations by playing with your own tits– then, oh, then you notice.

Jake, you’re best fucking friend, is so goddamn horny that he’s dry humping against your bed and whining out moans against your clit. Probably to avoid asking for more, to avoid making you feel obligated to get him off too, to avoid anything you may not want or consent to. And that’s why he’s your best friend.

It doesn’t take long after that, your hips come to a stop as you watch him get himself off all while getting you off, and you find your orgasm bubbling up much faster than if you’d have imagined solely because of the image in front of you.

“Jake, you’re fucking whining.” You groan almost as needy as he does, rolling your hips up in a stutter.

He was almost gonna stop, because yeah, he is whining. Gasping for air but only tasting you, only swallowing up the moans you give to him, only inhaling the dull scent of the fruity soap you used when you showered. But, you moan louder after you say that. You like it. You like seeing him act so desperate. So he continues, shamefully reaching one of his hands between himself and the bed and quickly shoving it down his pants, circling around his cock and continuing to fuck into it.

If he thinks hard enough, you’re what he’s fucking right now, and technically, he is. With his fingers and mouth at least. When your hips stutter more, he fucks harder against his hand and holds his fingers inside of you as deep as he can get them. There, he sucks against your clit until you’re the one whining louder.

You’re shocked at how quickly you’re getting off. Releasing a splash against him in a breathy, choked up sob. Nearly squeezing his head between your thighs to the point he almost misses the way you breathe out strings of praises toward him. But he hears them.

He definitely heard you say that he looks sexy with your hand in his hair, and god, did he ride off of the fact that you encouraged him to get off with you. Regardless of if you knew if he could or not, regardless of if you knew his hand was providing just enough pleasure for him to do just that.

There, as your orgasm subsides with his tongue still flicking your sensitive clit, you watch him writhe his hips against your mattress, his eyes slammed shut, and his breath coming out in pornographic moans. So this is what Jake looks like when he cums. It’s desperate, but somehow, it feels passionate too.

You’re all dazed after the fact, pussy pulsing and tingling from the loss of his lips and fingers once he pulls back and lays against your bed with a lazy smile. His pants are uncomfortable, but he doesn’t mind as he wipes his hand across his shirt and watches the way you catch your breath.

“So,” He tries to say, clearing his throat. “I– um– hope that’s what you needed?”

You’re shy. You’re never fucking shy, especially towards Jake, but god.

“Um, yeah,” you sigh out, lifting from the bed and looking back at him. Part of you wondering if that’s what it’s supposed to be like when someone gives you good head, or if that’s just…what it’s like when Jake gives head.

For some reason, you genuinely don’t think another man would ever eat you out to that level again. There’s no way, based on experience.

“It was definitely what I needed.”

He nods in a shy way, reminding himself that his pants are fucking nasty right now. So, he goes to stand up and extends a hand out to you.

“Let’s go clean up.”

You shake your head, not at all wanting to move from this bed. He nods again, pulling your shirt back down for you and leaning to look at you.

“I’m gonna bring you something to clean up with, and I’m gonna shower.”

You smile at him, a bit dazed as you make yourself comfortable on your messy sheets as you think hard about the fact that this dopey motherfucker really never told you how good he was at this? Rude.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake looks all proud of himself when he comes back to your room and cuddles into bed with you much like he always has.

“I didn’t expect to sleep over, I have work in the morning.” He whispers in a rasp against your back, curling around you like the perfect big spoon.

You’re quick to turn on his work alarm on your phone, like you always do when he crashes during weeknights. Because, what best friend doesn’t have alarms set for each other anyway?

After a few more long moments of silence, you try to talk. Mostly because your brain is swimming with the fact that, like, you’re not sure but it’s just– wow.

“Hey, um–”

“Hmm?” He hums out in a sleep-heavy voice.

“Did you actually enjoy doing that?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I literally came in my pants.” His sudden louder voice causes you to jump, but you relax back into his gasp.

“Oh,” You think hard. “Is this gonna change stuff between us?”

“Probably, but not in like, a bad way. More like in the can-i-eat-you-out-all-the-time-way.” He responds with mock-confidence, shifting a bit and hugging you closer to him, as if to hide the way he’s trying to make this sound like a joke. For his own comfort, really.

You smile.

“And don’t tell other dudes my secrets.” He adds.

“I won't.”

Jake has his own smile from behind you, wondering if he really is just that good at eating pussy. The truth is, he’s done it a handful of times but he was just really really interested in doing it for you. For…reasons.

・・・・・・THIS WAS ORIGINALLY TWO PARTS, NOW IT’S ONE. YOU’RE WELCOME・・・・・・

“Hey, um,”

“Hmm?” Jake hummed out in a sleep-heavy voice.

“Did you actually enjoy doing that for me?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I literally came in my pants.” He responded in a sudden, louder voice.

“Oh,” You think hard. “Is this gonna change stuff between us?”

“Probably, but not in like, a bad way. More like in the can-i-eat-you-out-all-the-time-way.”

You remember the conversation that happened after he went down on you like it was yesterday, and he’s a goddamn liar. Nothing changed in your friendship with him, and he certainly doesn’t ask to eat you out all the time either. If anything, you’ve felt disappointed time and time again with the aftermath of that night.

It’s weighing on you in a strange way. At first, the weeks following the first and apparently, only time Jake went down on you, you almost expected him to ask for a repeat. You wanted to return the favor. You wanted him to ask but he never did. Even when he came over to hang out, even when you tried to lay down hints.

Nothing changed.

In fact, he doesn’t even talk about it. He doesn’t look at you as if he’s tasted you, and he doesn’t act like he came in his palm against your bed, right in front of you. He’s just…Jake. Sweet, caring, aloof, Jake. And you’re just you. Except you want to be someone else at this point. Someone that he does feel differently around after that.

Maybe you weren’t a memorable event for him when it comes to intimacy. Maybe he prefers to pretend it never happened? Maybe he was really just doing you a favor and intending for it to never go past the initial act. Even with his sweet words after the fact. Maybe, that was just to reassure you so it wouldn’t be awkward.

You’re a version of you who wants to know what the fuck he’s thinking about. Did it taste bad? Did he get cold feet about it all? Arguably, if things did get weird after what happened, you’d feel more comfortable than you do with the situation as it stands.

It is weird now, but only because it’s not weird for him.

Even now, as you lay across the same bed where he had his head nestled between your legs, you can almost feel the tingle of what it felt like. The way his hair tickled your thighs, and the way his fingers laid against the flesh of your legs. The sun is beaming in through your windows and it still doesn’t feel as warm as it did when he cuddled against you that night. It’s been weeks and your heart is sick for him by this point. Sick with confusion, angst, lust, maybe even love if you think hard enough.

You miss him a lot more than before as you throw your hand up to your face in a gentle slap as if to knock yourself out of it. This is insane. Every day you wake up feeling this way, thinking of him, and where you stand with him. It wasn’t like this at first, you truly expected him to come back for more and now you’re just sitting here with a loop of reasons as to why he never did.

Insane. You’ve gotten head from so many people and didn’t think twice about them the next day, Jake is different though. You knew he would be too.

Why is Jake any different? Why do you miss him so badly right now? Why couldn’t he pick up on it either? Even worse, why do you feel like doing that with him was a mistake?

He’s with his parents for the weekend, and you’re here still thinking about shit that should have been released with your orgasm.

You haven’t gone on any dates since that day, you haven’t met up with any one other than him to hang out, and at this point you’re starting to feel a little pathetic for falling in so deep. It’s entirely one sided, he makes that very clear.

So, naturally, you hop up with the confidence of a damn lion and decide that today, it ends. You will stop making it weird between the two of you, if he has even noticed anyway. You’re gonna get dressed, look hot as fuck, and sit on your couch swiping left and right until you find a hot piece of man that’s willing to take you out tonight.

That’s when something dawns on you. You remember Jake briefly mentioning Sunghoon to you, which seemed more like an implication if anything at the time.

Why would Sunghoon be jealous of what happened? You can admit to being attracted to him but it’s not like the two of you hang out often or anything, and it’s also kind of a rule for yourself that you don’t fuck within the friendgroup. Jake was an exception, solely because that’s your best friend. Or, well, was your best friend.

Now though? Who cares about these little rules you create for yourself? You need a confidence boost. You need your mind to be taken off of this little spiral you keep falling into. Most of all, you need to be proven wrong that you can still get off without it being him.

So, texting Sunghoon? Easy.

Thankfully, Sunghoon texting you back at lightning speed seemed even easier for him.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Well, Sunghoon sure did a great job at getting your mind off of Jake for the past couple of hours.

You lay here in his bed, feeling your body tingle from the sensation of just how well he lived up to the promise of a good time. For hours he touched you, licked against you, fucked you. And yeah, you did fucking enjoy it.

But why now? Why did you only just decide to give Sunghoon a shot? Why are you lying in his bed, with his heavy arms thrown across you as he snores gently behind you, feeling the need to cry? Why do you wish it was Jake, your best friend who seemed so eager to please and then suddenly leaped ten feet back as if he never suggested it in the first place?

Your brain is confused despite your body relaxing itself from the state of bliss you were able to experience. You really did enjoy this time with Sunghoon and think that maybe, if you continue to make late night visits to him, the need for your best friend will weaken in time.

God, if only Jake would just talk about it.

And you fall asleep thinking about that. About how you’ve let your feelings weaken you to the point that it’s genuinely hard to enjoy being pleasured by someone who actually has the capability.

And, well, you wake up much the same, except Sunghoon was quite quick with his fingers upon waking up himself. Showing you that even if the person you want doesn’t have a thing to do with you, he sure does.

“Good morning,” He rasps in a sleepy voice, fingers already traveling down your stomach as he hugs up against you from behind. “Glad you finally came through for me.”

You quirk a brow. Right, Jake is the whole reason you're here. If not for mentioning him, at least.

“I finally came through?” You chuckle, your body jolting at the ticklish sensation of his lips brushing the back of your neck. “You knew I was single, why didn’t you call me?”

You feel a harsher kiss against your neck, and his fingers only travel further down now.

“Bro code.” He whispers, dipping his fingers between your still naked thighs. “I’m not overstepping if you’re the one asking for it.” He slides his fingers gently back and forth between your legs, trying to work you up. “And you did.”

You think hard about that. Bro code, overstepping limits, not coming onto someone unless they do first solely because someone must have asked him not to. And you’d think even harder about who that someone might be, but instead your brain is quickly thrown into the morning sex routine Sunghoon must offer to all of his lovers.

You enjoy it too, the small moments of bliss where you’re not in your head about what you could have possibly done wrong with Jake for you to end up feeling this way. It’s a brief moment of numbness though, feeling his fingers pleasure you gently can only do so much to quiet your thoughts.

“Are you saying one of your friends had dibs on me or something?” You laugh in a half-joke, arching your back to rub your ass up and against the bigger and warmer man behind you.

“You could say that, I’m assuming he missed his chance though–” Sunghoon whispers snidely, now satisfied with how you already drip for him and sliding one of his fingers into you. His other hand, being used to hike one of your legs up and against his hip to open you up for him. “You wouldn’t be here doing this if he didn’t.”

You clench around his finger unintentionally, pretending you don’t know who you’re both referring to. Mostly because there’s no way in hell it’s your best friend, seeing as how he’s acting like you don’t exist outside of platonic friendship with him. Then again, who else could it be? Jay? Heeseung? Fucking Jungwon? As fucking if.

“I guess he did miss his chance–” You breathe, now allowing yourself to give into the lazy and slow pleasure being offered. “Deeper.”

And he listens. Sunghoon goes deeper and deeper with one finger, then two, then three, up until you slip his fingers out of you and plead through your body to have more. Deeper still, holding you from behind, plunging in as if to intentionally fuck the confusion out of you. As if to, maybe, prove that Jake isn’t the only man who can please you now.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

When you eventually find yourself walking through your front door, you do feel better. Sunghoon did have some type of capability to make you feel as desired as Jake did. After all, it’s not often that you sleep over with a man, better yet get fucked again as soon as you wake up with him.

Even so, you know Jake will be back tomorrow, wanting to hang out yet again as if nothing happened. Thankfully, with Sunghoon around, maybe you can pretend alongside him. Maybe even forget it ever happened.

You can argue that for the first time, you’re even a bit annoyed when you see his name pop up in your notifications with a call as if you’re not right in the middle of texting Sunghoon. It’s not that you were trying to go back over to his house or anything, but man, he sure is trying to get you to come back for a third round already.

Maybe you just like when people are eager to please you, or maybe you don’t like to feel as if you’re the one chasing another person. Still, you answer Jake, seemingly releasing all of this resentment you’ve built up for him in an instant.

“What?” You huff into the phone, feeling it vibrate with another text from Sunghoon and wanting nothing more than to see what his fourth reason would be for you to come over not even two hours after you left.

“What?” Jake responds in confusion to you. “What do you mean ‘what’?”

“I mean what do you want? I’m busy.” You huff again with a roll of your eyes, flopping back on your bed.

“Oh god, something happened.” Jake groans, though he was simply calling you because he missed your voice. “What’s wrong?”

“No, not really. Was just trying to figure out what I’m doing tonight when you rudely interrupted me.”

Something is off, Jake can feel it. Your voice has a bite to it, one that feels like you’re mad at him. Not to mention, he knows what you mean when you say you’re trying to find something to do for the night. He tries to reserve his feelings though, despite wanting that something to be him.

“Oh, I know there’s an event at one of the clubs downtown tonight I think. Jay mentioned it–” He pauses briefly to hear another annoyed breath from you. “You’re not gonna go with him?”

“Nah,” You wave off dismissively. “I think I’m just gonna go hang out with Sunghoon.”

You don’t notice at all the brief and panicked silence for a solid second and a half before Jake reacts.

“Wait, what?” He says quickly after managing to process those words, trying not to sound as panicked as he knows he feels. “Sunghoon? Why?!”

God, he knew he shouldn’t have said anything about Sunghoon that day, but his confidence was overflowing and he couldn’t help but boast at the time. It’s come back to shoot him in the dick, knowing full well that Sunghoon has been trying to get you into bed since he fucking met you. Hearing you ask for him in this context is something that makes his blood run cold.

“Relax, I was with him last night. It’s kind of like, maybe gonna be a normal thing now.”

You refuse to pick up on Jake’s tone. He had all the time in the world to make you feel something other than confusion, and this is just fucking petty at this point. He clearly doesn’t want to have anything with you, so why in the hell should you just sit around hoping? Waiting?

“Sunghoon? You want to fuck Sunghoon?” He asks in a lower tone, trying to convince himself that he has to be mishearing you. You can hear him shuffle around and close a door behind him, showing that he doesn’t want his parents to hear him. But the frustration showing blatantly in his voice is somehow…satisfying.

“I already did. I figured he would show me a good time since no one else can, and he did.” You shrug with slight disobedience. Resentment bubbling up in your gut to the extent that you almost want to grill him for having any type of opinion about it.

Jake hangs on those words for a second. “Since no one else can.”

He really thought he was the one who could do it for you.

“Yeah, but–” Jake starts, feeling like a child almost in the way he protests despite not being in a position to have a say in who you sleep with. “You know what? Nevermind. Do what you want.” He adds blankly, hanging up before you can get another word in.

Honestly, he doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong because you acted like he was fully capable of doing everything right. Hanging out with him consistently after the fact, not making it weird, flirting with him, asking him to sleep over.

He wasn’t sure if he should ask you for more or if he should ask you to be his girlfriend first. The whole reason he’s with his parents right now is because he felt the need to run home to his Mom for girl advice. Embarrassing? Yes, but he really wanted to do things right. He cares about you.

He needed just one single weekend away, and the second he’s gone you’re out fucking other dudes? Fucking Sunghoon?

By now, that asshole is probably feeling like he’s on top of the world for getting to touch you. Not even he has done what Sunghoon managed to do with you by now and he can’t help but feel pissed about it.

Whether you’re his or not, Sunghoon never should have been a fucking option.

So, he calls you right back, pushing back the feeling of how pathetic it seems considering he’s the one who hung up on you. Then, when you don’t pick up, he immediately feels his stomach drop.

You must be talking to Sunghoon, you must be setting up a time and place to meet with him. And Jake has heard that Sunghoon knows how to fuck. Other people have said he’s good in bed. Surely, if you’ve already been with him once and you’re still wanting to go back to him, those other people weren’t lying.

To Jake, it feels like he’s losing you to his own friend with each passing second, and it’s weighing so heavy that spamming your phone with calls to interrupt whatever it is you’re doing right now feels like the right thing to do. In fact, it feels like it is the best thing in the world to do.

He calls again. You don’t answer.

Again.

“What?!” You answer, annoyed.

“Why would you even want Sunghoon?! Is he really that much better than I am?” He doesn’t think before he says it, because if he did, he wouldn’t have been able to say it at all.

It’s his turn to experience that awkward silence because in all fairness, you don’t know how to respond to that. You feel annoyed now, you feel confused and quite frankly, blind sided. Since when did he care?

“What’s that supposed to mean? You came onto me once and then never followed up.” You dead-pan at yourself in the mirror across your bedroom, speaking into the phone with a voice that seems scolding. “I don’t see why you’re mad that I’m hanging out with Sunghoon. We aren’t dating, Jake.”

“Since when? Who said I didn’t want to do it again?” Jake argues back in a whispered voice, showing you that he still can’t be as loud as he’d like to be. He chooses to ignore that last sentence though, pretending as if it doesn’t strike him in the center of the heart.

“Nobody! That’s the thing, you haven’t said anything about it. Not that you want to, not that you don’t. You’re just being you and it’s driving me up a fucking wall.”

Pause.

“You’re mad because I didn’t make it weird?” It’s like his brain clicks.

“Pretending it didn’t happen somehow makes it worse.” You lower your voice, ignoring the string of texts Sunghoon is sending you and listening closely to what Jake might say next. Your heart is racing through this hushed argument, and it feels good to admit that you kept thinking about it, even if he hasn’t.

“I wasn’t pretending that it didn’t happen,” He pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “I just wasn't sure what the next step was.”

You’re fucking appalled.

“Jake, I have been flirting with you since it happened because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. You’re the one who didn’t make any moves, so I figured you wanted it to end there.” You sigh loudly, but somehow feel a bit lighter. “Do you have any idea how that fucked with my confidence?”

Jake sighs along with you on the other end of the line.

“That’s why I was annoyed earlier, and that’s why I’m going to Sunghoon’s tonight.”

“What?” Jake’s voice raises a bit higher. “Still?!”

It’s the fact that he’s trying to explain himself. Had he known that you were confused by his lack of, um, touching you, he would have done it every day since it happened! Yet, you’re still considering Sunghoon an option? Knife to the heart, honestly.

Or maybe he’s not being clear enough with you about this.

You, on the other hand, nod your head as you hum a confirmation to him, smiling and wondering if this conversation will turn into an event that would, perhaps, have you cancel the hook-up with Sunghoon.

“Why? Are you jealous?” You pry.

“You really called him, and now I’m just sitting here in my old room trying to find a way to get to you before he does….again.” An inhale. “ Yes! I’m fucking jealous!”

You remain silent, trying to pretend that your pettiness isn’t solely to confirm what he seems to be implying to you. Then, an unintentional chuckle leaves your lips.

“Why are you laughing?!” His voice is raised again, and he doesn’t seem to stop spilling what he needs to say. “I wanted to do that for you for years and you somehow still didn’t know?” He pauses. “I always made it weird between us, what? You thought I treated all of my friends like that?”

You just listen, feeling your heart beat in time with each word he speaks. Strings of sentences like, “I’m going to kick his ass.” and “You thought I’d just eat you out as a friend?! You’re insane.” and “I would have come home last night if you wanted to feel good so badly, why did you have to go see him, of all people?”

The confirmation of Jake being the friend who forbade Sunghoon from making a move on you is right there, clear as day.

“Ah, so the Jake I know isn’t the Jake everyone else knows?” You respond, trying to force the tingling feeling in your gut to calm itself. Hearing him be so blatant to you has your heart doing flips, and it’s not an easy task to make it stop.

“Of-fucking-course not!” He rolls his eyes, you can definitely tell. “You had me wrapped around your pinky from day one.”

“And you really thought that, with the way you seemed so uninterested–” You pause, processing his words. “I would have asked you to come home from your parent’s house to get me off? For what? Funsies? You thought I'd be brave enough or selfish enough to ask such a thing?”

Jake sighs deeply, seemingly fed up with the situation.

“It wouldn’t be because you are selfish.” He breathes out, almost angrily. “And for the last time, I’m not uninterested. I was just trying to do things right. I don’t just want to fuck you, you know.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me until weeks after you ate me out?” You smile harder, trying to contain the heat flushing over your cheeks. “Until after I thought I had a pH imbalance and maybe you were just grossed out by me?!”

“I’m genuinely shocked you didn’t know already. Made me think you weren’t interested enough to like–” He pauses, not wanting to be too telling. “I guess waiting and being polite isn’t really your style. I should have known that though.”

You let him continue, because you can tell he’s simply taking breaths and small pauses to figure out how to express his thoughts to you.

“You can’t tell me that over the years, you never once noticed how often I stared at you.” He lowers his voice again, softening it to an extent that you actually feel the butterflies fly from your belly to your chest.

”The fact that I jumped in head first and offered to do that for you? I didn’t think I had to tell you at this point…”He breathes out a chuckle through the line this time. “And for the record, I couldn’t get enough of it. I was just trying to like– I don’t know.”

You listen to him breathe deeply, again.

“I didn’t want you to think I was in it just for the sex, I guess.”

There. There it is. You’re nearly kicking your feet, feeling him confirm feelings and erase any hint of doubt within you. Despite never truly noticing that he treats you differently compared to his other friends, despite never thinking too hard about the way he looks at you.

“You acted like it wasn’t a big deal, Jake. I’m not joking. If that’s how you act when you like someone, you shouldn’t blame me for not noticing.”

“I literally tongue fucked you.” He dead-pans. “Friends don’t just do that.”

“I thought we were friends who could do that.” You argue. “But I guess you’re not quite looking to just remain friends, are you?”

“No,” Jake sighs. “Mom told me I needed to take you out on some extravagant date and express my undying love for you with a handful of red roses, but I guess this is just how it’s gonna be. After all, this is you.”

“And this is you.” You confirm.

“I was going to come home tomorrow and try to lie our way to the restaurant, which I still can, if you want. You kind of fucked up my plan though.”

You pause at his words, suddenly feeling like shit for not realizing sooner. In your defense though, if he really did like you from day one, you didn’t exactly have a chance to see how he would have acted without feelings. The Jake you know is your best friend, and someone you trusted with everything, you thought he treated everyone as well as he treated you. That’s why, when he didn’t change, you couldn’t read him anymore.

Then again, all of this could have been fucking avoided if he had just voiced it to you.

“Romance is dead and it’s your fault.” Jake tries to joke, his soft tone somehow coming out even softer as he waits for some type of response from you.

“So, are we done fighting?” You ask meekly, tapping your finger against your phone and looking up at the ceiling with a smile that by now, you can’t escape. “Since you’ve just expressed your undying love for me and I very much wouldn’t mind going on a date with you so we can work this out face to face?”

“Are you still going to fuck Sunghoon?”

You laugh.

“Oh yeah, for sure–” To his silence, you immediately take it back. “Oh my god, relax. It’s a joke.”

“Get better jokes, asshole.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“What the fuck?” Jake deadpans into the phone, his heart beating far too fast for his health, but vibing with it anyway because by tomorrow night, he’ll be next to you again. “You seriously had sex with her?!”

“Hey, she’s the one who called me.” Sunghoon shrugs as he listens. “To be fair, Jake, I did tell her that someone else had dibs on her.”

Jake slaps his forehead and rolls his eyes.

“You’re such a dick– I told you at least three hundred times that I like her! I don’t have dibs.” He gripes, trying to pretend that he’s not imagining Sunghoon with you, the person he wants the most.

“Damn right you don’t, because she seemed to have a great t–”

“Sunghoon, stop. I don’t want to know what happened, but like, stop texting her.”

Sunghoon’s brow raises in curiosity.

“Ah, did you finally make a move?”

If there’s anything Jake knows Sunghoon won’t do, it’s go for a woman that is actually unavailable. He has his fun, and he’s not one to turn anyone down if he has an interest in them, bro code be damned. And yeah, he’s still a little pissed at him for hooking up with you…but, it is true, Jake made you feel like he wasn’t even an option in his attempts to be a gentleman.

Still, boundaries need to be set now. Real boundaries.

“I did, and I would really appreciate it if you back off. I’m trying to make something out of this, you know?”

Sunghoon lightens up, sighing at his loss of a would be fuck-buddy that seemed more promising than some he’s had in the past.

“Jesus, you’re serious about her aren’t you?” He smirks as he speaks, feeling proud of Jake for finally stepping up for himself. “I mean, I can totally see why. Please excuse me as I mourn that sweet, sweet, pu-”

“Sunghoon.” Jake warns. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Relax, jesus.” Sunghoon plays it cool, though he actually is mourning it a little bit. “Good on you though. I’ll back off, don’t worry.”

Jake rolls his eyes yet again, his love-hate relationship with Sunghoon becoming more fond than ever by this point. Only because the confidence he had in himself before all of this wasn’t entirely where it needed to be. It’s true that he wasn’t exactly a pussy eating god before, nor could he even say he’s amazing at sex but, when it comes to you, he can’t help but be excited. He wants to do it all, be it all for you.

Never in his life has he eaten pussy like that, and never in your life have you felt a mouth so eager to please between your legs.

Sunghoon could have been something, but he couldn’t have been Jake, ever.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The day couldn’t go by any slower than it already has.

Jake comes home tonight, and by home, you mean to your apartment where he doesn’t live.

Your mind goes in loops on what could possibly happen. Scenarios of him getting cold feet and ignoring that any of this happened at all again. Scenes of him unlocking your door, closing in on you, and kissing you before you can even say “hello”. Images of his hands on you, his mouth on you, what it would feel like if he were to…well, oh.

You snap yourself out of it, every bad scenario in your head gets replaced with one where you’ve got Jake working himself on and inside of you. It’s making you feel hot, insane, and entirely too horny for the proposed date night full of talking that needs to be had first.

Then you freeze, your hand on the handle of your mug as you wonder a bit too hard.

What if he doesn’t show up at all?

You did run off the second he left the city and fuck one of your mutual friends. Arguably, you were equally as bad at communicating with him as he was to you during the past few weeks. Sure, you flirted, but was that even enough when he literally put his tongue inside of you “as a friend”?

God, he’d have every right to not show up. To move on, to never speak to you again.

You’ve been so stupid. Both of you have, stumbling together but apart into something neither of you could even begin to navigate. For you? Sex is easy. Feelings though? That��s where it gets complicated. Yet, still, you find yourself more willing than ever to let these feelings roam free if he accepts them at face value.

Solely because of how shitty it felt when you were trying to pretend that Jake was nothing but a one time thing for his sake.

And when the time comes, after hours of brooding, getting worked up, and feeling insane, you’re looking like a mess when he knocks on your door. So much for looking good for him. You’re an absolute fucking wreck when you open that door and dead-pan stare at him and his bags.

“Hi,” He smiles, not quite making eye contact because he really is kind of embarrassed by all of this. “I’m here.”

You step back from the door, eyes remaining on him.

“You’re here.” You say quietly, watching him step into your apartment and drop his bags.

You feel his breath before you hear his voice. So much closer than just moments before, right up against your ear, and his arms wrapping tightly around you.

“Felt like I was gone for too long–” He whines slightly against you, breathing in a breath and taking in your scent. “Didn’t know I could miss you like that.”

You fucking melt. Out of all of those scenarios and fantasies in your head, this wasn’t one of them. Which goes to show that Jake is the one person in this world who can surprise you time and time again. You’ve hugged him like this hundreds of times, but this one, oh this one. He feels so close after feeling so fucking far away.

“You were gone for two days,” You smile, nuzzling against him and gripping his waist in your own hug.

“Two days too long, though.” You feel him smile, that little upturn of his lips pushing his cheek up and against you as he chuckles and pulls back. “We don’t have a lot of time, but we can still make it to the restaurant if you still want to go? I can shower when we get back.”

You pull back, offering him a small nod and feeling a bit let down. You wanted more, especially after that hug. The fact that he can contain himself right now feels isolating. Are you the only one who has a vibrating brain right now? He really wants to have the conversation at the restaurant?

He really wants to do this the right way?

You look like shit, but arguably he might think he looks worse considering the long trip back to you. Still, the restaurant is the chosen option to have this conversation, and you’re ready to get it over with so that finally the two of you can take a step forward.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The restaurant is nice. There’s a buzz of conversations surrounding the two of you but most of it feels muffled because the only sound you can truly hear is Jake’s hushed and awkward attempts to get the ball rolling.

“So, I guess that’s why I went to my parent’s house. It’s embarrassing, I know–” He says before you cut him off.

“Tell me how you felt the past few weeks when we were together.” You say boldly, wanting so badly to have the confirmation that he really does want this, and that he suffered much like you did.

You watch a fan of rosy tint cross his cheeks as he breaks eye contact with you, looking to the table and then back up at you.

“Okay, um–” He stiffens a bit, glancing around to make sure no one is looking or listening in. “When we weren’t together, it was a lot easier for me to think, but when we were together, I could only really think about one thing.” He admits, nodding to himself.

You look at him curiously before you see his eyes light up in panic.

“No! No, no. Not like, sex…” He looks down. “I mean, yeah maybe sex too but mostly I just couldn’t stop thinking about ways to make you want me more than anyone else.”

Your heart swells at his panicked save, and then the words that follow.

“I think I already did want you more than anyone else.” You admit back to him. “Even if I didn’t know I had feelings until you did that to me– I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

He smiles, reaching over the table as if to ask for your hand.

“What about you? What did you think about when we were together after that night?” He asks for his own confirmation now.

“Sex. Mostly, I guess. I felt like no one else would ever be able to make me feel that good again.” You look away, feeling ashamed and seen. “Goddamn, I sound so dramatic.”

Jake snorts, laughing at how he should have expected this but the confidence boost is a happy surprise to him.

“To be fair though, Jake, I think I had my feelings and my lust for you mixed up.” You continue. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I still feel both of those things every time I see you, or even think of you.”

“Feelings and lust?” He nods with a smile and wiggling his eyebrows, his eyes glistening in the warm lighting of the restaurant.

You nod in confirmation, side eyeing the waitress who walks over to take down your order.

Both of you are somehow dissociated outside of each other, there’s no way you’re not because you don’t recall what you ordered, nor what he ordered, and he appears to be feeling much the same. The moment she walks away, he’s continuing.

“I was really that good, huh?” A smirk from him, and a nod from you.

“What about right now then? How do you feel when you look at me?” He follows up, looking down at the table.

“Both of those things.” You dead-pan, squeezing your legs together as you look at him and feel the warmth radiating from even this far away. The confirmation of feelings is enough by itself to have your thoughts in the gutter about him, especially after weeks of wanting him.

Especially after having to be in this stupid fucking restaurant in the first place.

He quirks a brow before lowering his voice, his eyes drooping a bit.

“Do you have any fucking idea how badly I’ve wanted to get my mouth on you?”

God, there he is. That same bold best friend who originally suggested eating you out in the first place. Not entirely unfounded that he said it, but fuck, your cheeks are searing.

“Jake, we’re in public.” You warn, knowing damn well that you’ve not been able to think of anything else either, but for the sake of the foundation of this relationship, you want to tame yourself a little bit.

“Since we started hanging out, every fucking time.” He continues, ignoring your warning. “I would get so mad when you’d go to your little hook-ups. Sometimes I even wondered if you did it intentionally to piss me off.”

Your cheeks are still hot, but now there’s a bit of guilt filling you.

“You really had no idea how badly I wanted that to be me?” He continues with his streak of confidence, unintentionally dirty talking to you solely because he, genuinely, cannot deny his attraction or his feelings for you by this point. “Even right now, I want nothing more than to have you to myself.”

You pause, the guilt leaving you in an instant as it’s fully replaced with Jake’s eagerness to have you in full, finally.

“Why–” You sigh, dropping your head into your hands to hide your face from him. “Why are we at this restaurant again?”

You feel his hand reach back over to you, removing your hands from your face and dipping down to look at you.

“It’s so fucking hard to contain myself right now. I can admit that.” He whispers, blinking at you. “If you feel satisfied with where we stand, I’d be more than happy to leave this table now and prove everything to you.”

An instant nod from you, and an instant confirmation from Jake.

You’re both out of the restaurant before a single sip of water, before a single visual inspection of the forgotten food the two of you ordered, and before any doubt could creep in to ruin the electrifying atmosphere you were indulging in with him.

For Jake, his self control wavers with each passing moment as you sit next to him in the car. You look so calm as he drives as quickly and safely as possible back to your apartment, shaming himself for ever considering the two of you go in the first place. Still, the outcome is somehow more satisfying. Both of you wanting to leave just so you can truly be alone together? He couldn’t ask for a better night.

Still, your calmness contrasts the way his insides vibrate the closer he gets to your place, and he wonders how the fuck you manage to do it. If you were to simply glance at him at the right moment, you’d see his entire body melt in the fantasies of what the two of you may be willing to do tonight.

Years worth of pining in his head and heart are bubbling up now. You’re inviting him in, you’re accepting him, you’re wanting him back.

What he doesn’t know though, is that you are quite literally imagining yourself wrapped in chains to this seat. Why? Because if it weren’t for those astral chains, you’d be on top of him in an instant, reassuring him that if there’s anything in the world you’ve wanted within the past few weeks, it’s him. You’d be apologizing for never taking note of his feelings before, and kissing away all of the moments he wished he could have had with you before, replacing them with very real, firm, hot kisses.

Thankfully though, you manage to tame the beast from within and somehow, so does he. Up until you get through your apartment door and the electrifying atmosphere sizzles away in an instant.

You expected to have the confidence to, quite literally, jump on him as soon as your door closed. Instead, you find yourself standing in awe at the entryway.

Jake, on the other hand, would love nothing more than to have you right this moment, speeding and parking crooked be damned, he will not allow it just yet.

“Listen,” He reaches out to you, pulling you up and against his chest. “I need to shower before I let myself do anything.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, noting that the awkwardness came from the fact that Jake’s energy is seeping out of him, lust and worry for possibly not being as clean as he’d like to be for this.

It feels strange, actually. You can imagine you’ve had many hook-ups with men who wouldn’t even consider a shower before inviting you over.

“Hurry up then, before I decide to call Sungh-”

“Don’t you fucking dare make that joke right now,” Jake squeezes you tighter against you, hating himself for constantly bringing up reasons to wait.

“If we are going to like,” He pauses, struggling to say it out of pure nervousness that you might change your mind. “You know, be exclusive, Sunghoon’s name is forbidden.”

You chuckle against him before shoving him back in a playful way.

“Deal. Now, can you fucking hurry?” You roll your eyes playfully, internally a little thankful for the short moments you will have to prepare yourself for this.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Damn this shower for feeling so good. Jake could fall asleep under the warmth if it weren’t for the fact that he’s been half-hard this entire time and truly fighting with himself on how to approach this situation.

It’s kind of awkward, actually. Knowing exactly what the two of you are about to do but having to wait even for fifteen minutes makes it seem like you both have a scheduled hook up and nothing more.

It’s not a hook up though. Jake is finally where he’s always wanted to be with you, in your shower priming his body to go absolutely fucking insane on you. Before, when he ate you out, he really was controlling himself. He wanted to do more with you so bad, and now? God…

He’s flushed as he finally makes his way out of the shower, length still stiffening and softening with each thought that passes. He can barely look at himself in the mirror without wanting to laugh at how embarrassing he truly is.

You’d probably laugh too, and he’d love the sound of it.

Then, he’s faced with a dilemma.

You, on the other hand, find yourself lying quietly in your bedroom after doing your best to fix the mess of yourself for whatever Jake may offer. Waiting for him, and ultimately wondering what the fuck is taking him so long when you finally hear the bathroom door open.

Faintly, you can smell your shampoo and body wash that he used as you hear him make his way to the living room and not find you.

Then, you hear him making his way to your room. He doesn’t open the door any further than it already was and instead, stands behind it quietly before muttering out.

“Um,” He starts, putting his hand on your door and only peeking his head in. “I wasn’t sure if there was a point to putting my clothes on–”

Fucking pause.

God, he must sound so stupid saying that, especially after looking into your room and seeing you lying against your bed changed into the exact same pajamas you put on the night he initially made a move on you through the guise of friendship.

Well, now it’s not even a question and he was right to assume that all he needed to do was wrap a towel around his waist and come to you.

You watch his eyes travel your body curiously, a smile forming on his face.

“If you’re wondering if I put panties on this time too,” You smile, reaching a hand out as if to invite him to open that door and come have at it. “I didn’t.”

That’s all it takes, really, to have him pushing the door open and not-so-calmly making his way to your bed.

Seeing his naked and damp chest is one thing, but smelling your scent all over him is another, especially when the first thing he does is practically envelop you with his body and plant his lips straight on your own.

The first real kiss. Despite his lips having been on you before, you melt into it and find yourself forgetting how differently he’s acting now compared to before. He was so confident, so cocky, and now he’s almost docile. Meek.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” He leans back to whisper, adjusting his body so that he’s more comfortable and leaning down on one arm while the other holds your cheek. “Can’t believe you let me eat you out before ever letting me actually kiss you.”

Your face heats up at the comment, making you feel more scandalous than you ever truly tried to be. But he’s not wrong, and you regret making him feel like eating you out was the only way to get to your heart.

Strangely though, it was the way to your heart. Him doing that for you practically threw you into the deep end in search for more, from him, specifically.

“Can’t believe you decided that you should just eat me out rather than admit your feelings for me.” You counter with a smile, lifting your head to kiss against him again and pretending you can’t feel the weight of his length under the loosely knotted towel on his waist.

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” He says through the kisses, quickly losing the ability to speak when you lick against his bottom lip and, ultimately, take control of the act.

He wonders what your mouth could do to him. His entire body reacts to the way your tongue flicks and licks against his own, it takes everything in him to try and control himself from pushing too far too soon– until he realizes that there is no reason to control himself now.

Never has making out gotten him this turned on, and it’s not a surprise because it’s you.

He half moans, half chuckles into your kiss when he does it, pressing his hips down and against your thigh much like he did previously to the very mattress he’s got you lying against.

“There’s so much I want to do,” He finally admits, pulling back from the kiss and hanging his head to feel how his cock reacts to the flesh of your thigh. “Please, let me do all of it.”

You sigh, somehow feeling a pang of arousal radiate between your legs despite not yet being touched there. The weight of him on you is enough, and all you can do is nod and await the ways he intends to relieve himself with you.

Hours of head, he could give. Even more hours of burying his cock between those pretty lips and watching you return the favor for him. His confidence grows as your body moves under him, waiting, waiting, waiting for what he will do next.

First, he plants another kiss to you, pressing his hips hard against your thigh with a breathy sigh before moving his lips down, against your neck.

At the same time, his hands work their way up your loose shirt, cupping one breast in his palm and easily teasing your nipple with his fingers. He works his lips down the center of your clothed chest, down to your stomach, and then up again. His nose nudges your shirt up with each kiss, until his lips replace his fingers and he’s sucking your nipple into his mouth.

You’ve never felt so wanted in your life with the way he appears to be savoring you. Leaving his own pleasure neglected once again, his entire focus is on you. You arch your back up a bit, hands shooting to his head and cradling it there against your breast.

He groans when you scratch against the nape of his neck, wiggling your hips under him and chasing the sensation that his mouth manages to send to your clit. He groans again when your nipple remains firm between his lips, and he begins to nibble.

And this time, he moans when he manages to trail one of his hands down just to see how much it will take of this to get you wet. He tucks one hand under your shorts, only to find that you’re already dripping, soaking his fingers with a mere single slide up your folds.

“Fuck,” He sighs as if it’s a compliment when he pops his mouth off of you, flicking his head up to look at your already dazed eyes. “Already?”

You glance away, embarrassed by how badly you want the man who was once your best friend, and is now….more than that. You can feel his fingers graze and gently play around with the heat your body has already released for him, rolling your eyes back each time he pretends he’s going to offer pressure to your clit.

He’s fucking teasing you, and you know it.

He knows it too, because of fucking course he is. After years of torture, wondering if you’d ever manage to get wet at all with the thought of him, here you are, dripping under him when all he’s done is kiss you and fondle your nipples.

Briefly, he remembers how needy your hips were when his tongue was seeping into you. He remembers the taste of each thrust you pressed against his face, and the smell of how badly you needed him at the time.

As used as he was by you that night, he wants nothing more now than to pull those same desperate moans from you, to taste the wet inside of you that no man ever managed to release for you.

“I feel like I’m going insane,” He finally breathes out, still toying with your folds and keeping an eye on the way your eyes glare back at him. “I want you so fucking bad–” He stutters now, instantly sliding his fingers into you and scooting down on the bed at lightening speed, pressing your loose shorts to the side just to get the taste of you against his lips again.

Your legs instantly shoot over his shoulders, and one of his hands reaches up to hug your thigh against him as his tongue immediately laps at every dip and crease of your cunt. His eyes nearly roll back at being able to experience this again, his fingers holding firm without a single movement just so he can feel your body confirm that you want him just as much.

The clench around his fingers are enough, and he licks around them only for a moment before returning his lips to your clit and giving you all he’s got.

All he can feel is your legs tightening around his head, nearly lifting your ass up and off of the bed, all he can hear is his own moans vibrating through him each time he hears you react.

Arguably, even after that brief moment of teasing from him, feeling his mouth so eager, much like before, sent you straight into a blissed state and made you forget about the restaurant, the shower, the weeks of pining before this. His mouth is so warm, and his vibrating moans sooth your clit through its desperate attempts to beg for more.

You can’t help the fact that your legs hug his head, or the way your hands shoot down much like before, scratching through his hair before dropping down and spreading yourself open with two fingers solely to expose your clit in full to the assault of his tongue he’s giving you.

He missed you so much, he missed this so much. Never again will he leave you wondering, from this point forward, you should be well aware that if you so much as pushed him to his knees and lifted a leg over his shoulder, he’d be eating like a fucking king.

Still, even with his immense love for kissing your pussy until your legs shake, there’s more to be experienced here than just this. His pace slows with the reality of that, and only now does he move his fingers with intent, and he pulls back to see how you’re spreading yourself for him, even as your legs fall from his shoulders.

“Fuck.” He rasps, lips glistening with a mixture of his own saliva and your slick.

You lend him a drunken smile, nodding slowly as you focus in on the way his fingers scissor you open. Within a blink though, his face is right there hovering above you, staring intently at the way you react to his fingers.

“You look so good right now, you know that?” He compliments, leaning down again to plant a kiss against you, only pumping his fingers in faster when your kiss appears to be more hungry than his own. “God, I can feel you squeeze my fingers–”

And it’s true, he’s seeing stars solely because he can feel the clench of your pussy walls pushing his two fingers together, almost pushing against his attempts to scissor you open and curl them into the spot inside he knows you have. He can only imagine how good that would feel if he were to…

His eyes squeeze shut in a drawn out moan at the thought, his own kiss growing more hungry as he releases the towel from his waist and quickens the pace of his fingers inside of you.

You can feel him press his cock against you, and the weight of it only becomes heavier when his fingers pause inside of you just so he can slip them out and use those same slick-coated digits to hold his length down and against you before he slides it between your lips. Now coating himself in the same wet sensation.

You listen closely to his moan, knowing that he seems fond of neglecting his own pleasure to the point of doing near-embarrassing things to get it back when he needs it the most. It’s strangled, almost. You can hear him swallow around it when he slides up harshly, bumping your clit and causing your shorts to stretch against the crease of your thigh.

He seems so…desperate. Yet, he can have anything he wants.

“Keep it spread open–” He mutters when he feels you try to remove the hand that had been holding your pussy out on display for him. “I want to feel all of it.”

God, you’ve never heard him say something so sexy. Easily you do as he says, now using both hands to hold either side of your pussy open for him, and feeling the underside of his length slide against your hole.

You let out a pleased sigh, despite your shorts becoming a nuisance at this point. It’s easy to forget you’re still wearing them though, because they only become drenched more and more as the moments pass with Jake.

You can genuinely just assume that his cock must be aching as he does this, leaking all over you. That’s something you don’t mind at all, because the stimulation is far beyond what you could ever ask for.

“Jake–” You try to speak, only to be cut off by his hand sliding under your head and his lips attaching yet again to you.

There, you can’t help it when you remove your hands and shoot them up to his face. Holding him there, feeling the way his jaw moves when he licks into your mouth in a desperate attempt to get as much of you as he can in this moment.

His hips fuck forward much like they did into his palm all those weeks ago, and the anticipation of if or when he finally plunges it into you drives you to kiss him just as hard as he does you.

There is nothing but the sound of kissing in the room save for muffled moans from both of you, entirely tangled up together as he does nothing more than grind himself against you. His hand cradling your head and the other still pressing his length down and against you as close as he can manage. Yours, cupping his cheeks as he kisses you, up until you run one hand down to take over for him.

In that moment, with his free and now shaking hand, he pulls back entirely and just looks at you.

He’s out of it, entirely gone from this world as he stares down with his hair drying by the minute from that shower, messy as all hell with darkened hooded eyes. He continues to stare, each thrust against you becoming pointed to the extent that it almost feels like he’s already fucked you for hours.

And then, you feel it. The weight lifting, your shorts being stretched until they’re sliding down your thighs and off of you, and then the warmth as he adjusts his hips just barely enough to line up with your quivering hole, practically begging for him to stretch you out for the first time.

His eyes falter only for a moment when he realizes that this is a moment he will never forget. The way you look up at him with glassy and needy eyes, out of breath, seemingly loving him as much as he’s always loved you.

“Yeah?” He whispers, not breaking eye contact even for a moment.

“Please.” You mutter out, not fully intending for it to sound so broken.

And as broken as your voice was in that instance, he grows much weaker by it. Dropping his head with a deep sigh, a smile, and then a chuckle.

“You really, really, can’t look at me like that and expect me to be gentle…” He pauses to look at you again. “For your sake, please tell me to slow down.”

You can barely comprehend a word he’s saying when you can feel the head of his cock teasing where you need it the most.

“Please.” You rasp out again, wrapping your legs around his waist and forcing his body forward, ultimately sliding the tip of his length into you yourself.

“Oh, fuck–” He chokes out before sucking in a breath and letting out a moan at the feeling. His body jerks at the sensation, the sound of your voice, the way you pulse around him. “Fuck, so good.” He continues to mutter, controlling himself for only a few seconds longer just to see if you have the ability to understand that he truly and honestly will not have the ability to go easy on you at this point.

“Deeper.” You plead, squeezing your legs tighter around him, uncaring of his attempt to control the situation.

That’s all it takes. Your broken voice already had him shaking, and now he’s giving up any and all control that he could have possibly hoped to have.

Right there, with your legs hugging his waist, your hands gripping the pillow behind your head, and his hands finding purchase on either side of your shoulders, he sinks himself into you as deep as he can go and feels as if the life is being choked out of him over how fucking good it feels.

He throws his head back in an erotic and attractive moan of relief, allowing you a glimpse at the expanse of his stretched neck, naked of any marked territory. Still, your vision goes white when the stretch hits you.

So big, so strong on top of you. You can imagine he really could fuck you hard, you hope he doesn’t go gentle on you at all, actually

“Shit, please,” You moan brokenly again, releasing your pillow and gripping his forearms. “Jake, god–” You have no words to describe how good he feels inside of you, you couldn’t begin to fathom trying to explain to him how perfect he is.

It feels deep, deeper than you ever could have imagined. His length alone should have been enough to tell you that, but you hadn’t yet factored in the girth of it. So heavy inside of you, touching each soft and sensitive surface your pussy has to offer.

Your body jolts in adjustment, knocking the breath out of you despite him not moving just yet.

“Shh–” He soothes, not at all actually wanting to hush your cries for him. In fact, he’s simply saying it because he could quite literally release at any moment if you continue to speak and clench him like this. And when he finally looks down at you, he can’t fucking help it.

His hips move at their own volition, and he was right in believing there is no gentle fuck to be had here. He slides out only slightly, with the intent to fuck you as full of him as he can. He wants to stay deep, because you asked, and he wants to keep you feeling stretched around him because he can truly never get over the way you look and sound right now.

You shake at the feeling of him pressing impossibly deeper into you, keeping his hips flush against you before snapping his hips back more now. A slightly empty feeling inside of you being filled once again within a second.

His moans sound beautiful, he feels beautiful, and all you can do is stare up at him with watery eyes and a slack jaw, wondering why it took him so long to do this with you.

Wondering why it took you so long to want it at all, when now, you think you could never feel this good with another person again.

His arms flex in your grasp with each thrust, and his eyes land on each visible part of your body before he weakens his stance and lowers himself to you, hips still fucking you open at a pace that’s only becoming more and more rapid, more and more fucking blinding.

“Yeah, yeah–” Jake suddenly chimes with out of breath words, kissing you before you can comprehend or respond to those words. “No one has ever reacted like this for me–” He continues, pointing his thrusts harder into you. “Feels so good, so tight around me.” He chokes up at the last few words, stuttering his and picking up a different pace.

This time, those harsh thrusts pull back further, emptying you before slowly pressing into you again.

“I want you to remember how this feels,” He continues, seemingly rambling against your lips with each slow thrust. “No one will ever fuck you like I will.”

Your hooded eyes shoot open with arousal at his confident boasting. Those words feel so final, as if it isn’t even a rule, but a logical fact that only the two of you could ever find to be true.

You can’t even manage a response, and instead moan before tucking your lips up and against his neck, using one hand to grip his hair and skew his head.

That once naked and markless neck is no more. He is yours, and you’re lucky enough now to know that this is exactly how he wants you to feel.

“Ahh, you like that?” He questions your reaction to his words, feeling your hips make attempts to meet him halfway with each thrust. “You like when I talk?” He continues to urge your sucking lips to speak out to him, to answer him, to boost his ego just a bit more.

“So much,” You nearly whimper against his neck, moving your lips to another spot. “Love when you’re confident like this–”

He’s in heaven hearing those words. As if it’s a confirmation that he wasn’t just talking dirty. You both truly take those words and will fuck by them from this point forward. He truly doesn’t want anyone else, and hopefully, you’d never give another person the chance to make an attempt to fuck you the way he does.

And then the room falls silent again, as if Jake is focused on reminding you with each passing second that he’s never been more sure or right of something in his life. Despite you already believing him, the way his cock pulses inside of you is enough of a reminder even if he had never said it in the first place.

His pace quickens again, and then slows, and then stutters. Only to fall back into a good rhythm before his entire body starts to shake through the act.

You wonder if this is it. Is this how his body reacts when he’s about to cum? Is this what his face looks like? Is this what his eyes do? Did his arms strain like this the first time? Did his moans come out as choked and desperate?

None of that matters, because as quickly as it started, he buries himself into you again and stays in that one spot, shaking and timidly looking down at you.

“Don’t move, please, don’t move.” He practically begs, losing himself to the way your hips chase the feeling of constant stimulation. “Stop moving.” He pleads again, pulling his chest from you and sitting up on his knees, keeping his cock in place deep within you.

You watch him, unable to keep your hips still, and he watches you– trying to keep his orgasm under control before seeing your fingers trail down your stomach and to your clit.

There, he loses himself, watching you rub the soft spot just above where his cock stuffs you full.

“I can’t,” He chokes out, snapping his hips back and allowing himself to get lost in the feeling. “Fuck, I really can’t.” He continues to mutter out, pressing his strings of cum ever deeper inside of you as he feels every muscle in his body tense.

It feels so sensitive, but he can’t stop moving, feeling his cum fill you up to the point it’s surely being pressed out of you by his desperate length wanting nothing more than to stay inside of you.

You moan through it with him, encouraging him to lose himself inside of you, and he’s so beautiful when he does it. The fact that he does it at all has your body tensing on its own. Teetering on the edge of your own orgasm with the way your fingers almost aggressively chase after the feeling he appears to still be releasing inside of you.

And then, emptiness. You are left empty and dripping, fingers still chasing your release before–

“What the fu–” You moan, squeezing your eyes shut at the feeling of his tongue instantly back on you. As if he’s looping back to the beginning of it all, uncaring of tasting himself solely because through it all, he can still taste you. “Jake, Fuck–yes, right there.” You continue to groan when he replaces his tongue against your hole with his fingers, fucking into you as quickly as he can before nudging your fingers away and taking over the chase of your orgasm.

You’re entirely amazed by how eager he is to pull it from you, and that alone is enough. The desperate ways in which he decided to pleasure you right in this moment, it’s enough.

Your hands instantly reach for his hair, gripping so tightly that you can hear the pained sound he lets out at the sheer force behind it. You very nearly rub his nose in the mess he’s made of you out of the sheer arousal you feel through your orgasm.

You’re seeing white, feeling his fingers expertly work you open and somehow don’t feel disappointed at all that you didn’t get there before he pulled out of you. You can still feel him dripping out, fingers squelching and sliding through the mixture of both orgasms inside of you. And his tongue, good lord his fucking tongue, licking up every bit and eagerly flicking your clit at a pace much faster than he offered before.

And now, you find your legs nearly kicking him across the room. As soon as the orgasm subsides, your body goes into overdrive with the overwhelming sensitivity between your legs and all he can do is laugh at the way you practically do kick him.

Right off the bed, actually, he tumbles.

You lay there, staring into space as you attempt to bring yourself back to reality when you see his messy hair and glistening eyes peek from the edge of your bed at you. His shoulders huffing with each deep breath he takes.

“Jesus fucking christ.” You manage to gasp out, spread eagle and almost completely naked on your bed save for the forgotten shirt that’s still pushed up to your collarbone.

He makes his way back up to you, pressing your legs together, lowering your shirt, and planting his heavy dead-weight right on top of you.

A solid ten minutes pass as the two of you lay there in the mess you’ve both created. Heavy breaths turn to easy, balanced breaths together. You can barely hold your eyes open when he finally rolls off of you and right up against your side.

“Can I ask you something?” He mutters, throat dry and stomach growling embarrassingly loud.

“Hm?” You hum out, entirely ready to just sleep in the mess.

“Are you always like that?” He questions, a little hint of doubt breaking his confidence. “Like, did Sunghoon see you act like that too?”

You crack your eyes open and instantly turn to face him.

“You’re insane if you think Sunghoon is that good. I’ve never used the word ‘please’ in my life.”

Jake glances away, thinking to himself and letting those words sink in.

“Well,” He starts, pausing and feeling that little pit in his stomach return. “That’s a lie because I’ve heard you use your manners at least twice in the years I’ve known you.”

You smile, loving that the two of you can still be somewhat catty and playful even after the fact that you just realized how insanely in love with him you are.

“Jake, no one has ever made me act like this in bed.” You try to reassure him. “I don’t think anyone else could, besides you.”

He smiles with a nod, running his hands down your body before pausing at the half dried cum that managed to make its way up to your stomach. And then? He groans.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s insane really, that all it took for you to fall in love with the person you think you were always meant to love was him admitting it. Even more insane that he decided to take the route that involved faux playful head, with no feelings attached despite his feelings being deeply fucking attached.

Still, the route taken to get to this point, he thinks, is fitting for the two of you. Especially now that he can look at Sunghoon without wanting to strangle him, and he can look at you knowing you’d very much invite him to strangle you, you know, considering the fact that you’re now trying to explore every sexual realm in the fucking universe with him.

Even with the desperate need to have you under him any chance he gets, and the fucking, and the arousal, none of it shines brighter than the small intimate moments he has with you that aren’t weighed down by pining or lust.

As playful as the two of you are together, there is so much love here. So much love to still be discovered too, and he can’t help but feel excited by it.

Romance isn’t dead, despite how the two of you tried to fucking butcher it.

#enhypen smut #sim jaeyun smut #jake sim smut #jake smut #enha smut #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut

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sceletaflores · 4 months ago

Text

well, all right i’m bad, but then you’re no prize either…

pair: joel miller x fem!reader

wc: 8.6k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, no ellie, general violence (only referenced), age gap (56/26), swearing, so many spacers lmao, not quite friends to lovers and not quite enemies to lovers but a weird other thing, kinda mean!joel for a good sec, dressing wounds, joel miller TUMMY, loss of virginity (reader is a virgin but she's not completely oblivious and weirdly infantile about it lmao), fingering (fem!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex whoops, size kink, belly bulging, pussy pronouns, porn with a tiny plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: well, i finally caved y’all. baby’s first tlou fic! this literally took me forever to write and even longer to post cause i was so terrified LMAO so please give me some grace if it’s shit and he’s ooc and timelines are a little fuzzy cause i barely know what i’m doing. thank you chickens love you mwah mwah mwah. kisses!

dividers by lovely @saradika-graphics!

joel found a lodge house…

You don’t know what you did to make Joel Miller hate you so much.

He's never outright said it, but you know it’s there—in every sharp glance, every clipped word, every deliberate avoidance.

Besides, his silence is worse than anything he could say. A quiet condemnation that settles in your chest like stone.

You tell yourself it doesn’t matter, that you don’t care what he thinks, but the truth is harder to swallow.

You do care—more than you want to admit. His approval, his respect, hell, even a sliver of kindness from him feels like an impossible prize you’ll never win.

And you hate yourself for wanting it. For needing it.

It's not just the weight of his disdain that eats at you, it's the not knowing why. God, do you wish you could ask him why.

What did you do to make him look at you like you’re some necessary evil he has to tolerate. Why does he hold some unspoken grudge that's manifested itself into something you couldn't dream of ever comprehending.

But the thought of confronting Joel feels like standing on the edge of a cliff, staring down into a void that might swallow you whole.

So instead, you do what you've always done. You keep your distance, try to match his indifference with your own, and tell yourself it’s better this way.

You were young when the outbreak hit, six years old.

You’re sure that’s part of it. That that’s how Joel sees you, as some bumbling, naive child who’s more of a hassle than anything else.

Another mouth to feed, another back to watch, baggage.

You've been with him for almost seven months now, traveling side by side when you may have well been miles apart. Trekking through abandoned cities, overgrown highways, and every godforsaken patch of wilderness in between.

In the beginning, you did everything you could to prove him wrong.

You pushed yourself past your limits, hunted, scavenged, fought, kept up. You did everything that needed to be done without hesitation.

All to show that you were more than what he made you out to be. It never seemed to matter much.

After you lost your parents in the early days of the outbreak, it was just you and your sister. She taught you everything you know, taught you how to survive.

It's because of her that you know how to shoot a rifle, how to skin a rabbit, how to start a fire with nothing but sticks and dried moss, how to snap bones and locate which vital arteries bleed out the quickest.

It's because of her that you've been able to hone some sick skill in the maiming of clickers.

A skill you never thought you'd need to use on her.

You were supposed to be safe in the QZ. You weren't supposed to be fifteen years old, aiming a gun at the one person you had left.

Your own flesh and blood wasn't supposed to be the very first in a long list of red tallies under your belt.

It’s been years and you’ve still never forgotten that day. December 19th, 2012, the date burned into your brain like someone took a branding iron to the tissue.

You can’t count the amount of times you’ve been ripped from your sleep drenched in a cold sweat with the tail end of a scream tearing at the skin of your throat.

The image of what was left of your sister, slumped on the ground lifeless as her blood painted the wall behind her flashing behind your closed eyelids. The sound of her last labored breath ringing in your ears louder than any shotgun blast.

You ran that same night, with the weight of her death on your shoulders.

Your entire world spinning out around you as you clawed through barbed wire fencing, not caring where you were going or what would happen to you—just needing to escape.

There was nothing left for you to do after that but survive. And that’s what you did, for years, scraping by in a world that had already chewed you up and spit you out a mangled mess.

You learned how to be ruthless because of it.

How to harden yourself against the loss, the pain, the brutality. But there were cracks, too. Cracks you hid well, buried deep beneath layers of stubbornness and distance.

The endless days blurred into each other. Empty houses, hollow streets. A life reduced to scavenging, hiding, and the occasional, fleeting moment of human connection that inevitably ended in loss.

And then you found yourself with Joel.

You hadn’t exactly found him, though. More like crashed into his orbit by accident.

A few desperate days spent scavenging through the ruins of a small town, a chance encounter that left you both wary and unwilling to turn your backs.

But, inexplicably, you somehow became part of his traveling routine.

He wasn’t like any of the others you’d met before. At first, you thought he might be different. A man who seemed broken, but different nonetheless.

As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, you began to see the truth. Joel Miller wasn’t concerned with you. He didn’t need you. And, more than that, he didn’t want you around.

You didn’t know what to do with that.

It’s a bitter kind of irony. You’ve survived all this time completely on your own, fought tooth and nail to stay alive, but with him, you might just crumble.

Joel found a lodge house. It's a small, weathered place tucked away in the dense trees of the wood surrounding it.

He only deemed it suitable after an extensive perimeter check and a thorough sweep of the interior.

It's not much—just another run-down place in the middle of nowhere—but for the first time in what feels like forever, it’s a roof over your head for the night.

The walls are sturdy, though the windows are cracked and half of the floorboards creak like they're about to give out at any moment.

You explored the second floor alone, creeping through the desolate rooms and taking in all that was left behind.

Old family photographs covered in thick layers of dust, worn clothes riddled with holes still hung in the few closets you stumble across.

The oddest of all was an old jewelry box tucked away in a dresser draw, tarnished silver dull and muddy.

The sound of familiar footsteps comes from somewhere behind you. The door creaks open slowly.

Joel. Of course.

He clears his throat, the sound abrasive in the quiet of the house.

“Fire’s low,” he says, voice rough from its lack of use today.

You don’t turn around, not yet. You take the box in your gloved hand, running your fingers across the intricate design of the lid, touch trailing over winding vines and small roses.

“Okay,” you mutter, your voice coming out quieter than you intended. “I’ll grab some more wood later.”

Another beat of silence. Then, “It’s gettin’ cold out, I’ll go.”

Your fingers pause their ministrations, moving to flip the lid open. Empty.

“Suit yourself,” you reply after a moment, your tone just as neutral as his.

Joel doesn’t leave right away. You hear the floorboards groan beneath his weight, his presence lingering in the doorway.

You wonder what he’s waiting for, or if he’s waiting at all.

Finally, he speaks. “Don’t touch anything.”

With that he turns and leaves the room, you wait until you can’t hear his footsteps trailing down the stairs anymore to let out the scoff festering in your chest.

You snap the jewelry lid shut with a little more force than necessary. “Asshole.”

Joel's been gone for a while now. Longer than it takes to chop a few logs for firewood.

You came down from the upstairs a few minutes after hearing the tell-tale sound of the heavy door opening and closing. The main room is quiet, save for the soft crackle of the dwindling fire.

You're perched on an old armchair near the entrance, peering out the dirty window that has the best view of the treeline as you nervously pick the skin around your nails.

You tell yourself not to worry. He’s probably fine, he’s been doing this a lot longer than you. And if Joel is anything, it’s annoyingly competent.

Still, a nagging doubt itches at the back of your mind. It's been at least half an hour, maybe more.

You’re just about to grab your own pack and go looking for him when the front door creaks open.

Joel stumbles inside, the frigid evening air rushing in behind him before he slams the door shut. At first glance, he looks fine—no more haggard than usual.

But then you notice the way he favors his left side, the way his free hand is pressed against his ribs, blood seeping through his fingers and staining his torn undershirt.

You’re on your feet in an instant.

“Fuck,” you say, voice sharper than you expected. “What the hell happened?”

“Raiders.” Is the only explanation you get as he tries to brush past you like it’s nothing. The stiff way he moves and the tightens of his jaw betray him. “S’just a scratch.”

“Bullshit,” you snap, stepping in front of him and blocking his path to the fire. “Sit. Now.”

He gives you a look, one of those deep, withering glares you’ve seen him use to intimidate countless others into submission. But you stand your ground, chin raised and jaw set–defiant.

His stubbornness finally meeting its match in your own.

Finally, with a low growl of frustration, he drops onto the couch. “Happy now?”

"Not until you let me take care of that." You motion toward his side, where the blood is still spreading.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, lolling his head back to rest more heavily on the couch.

“Sure you are,” you snap, crossing the room to rifle through your bag. “And I’m the fucking Queen of England.”

"Said I’m fine," he bites through gritted teeth, but you’re already moving, heading back to him with the first aid kit from your pack.

"You want to bleed out on this ugly-ass couch? Be my guest," you shoot back, dropping to your knees in front of him. "Otherwise, shut up and let me help."

Joel surprisingly doesn’t argue any further, just sighs heavily and reluctantly sinks further into the couch cushions.

You push the front of his jacket open to slide it off his shoulders as gently as you can, peeling back the layer of his flannel next.

The smell of blood hits you immediately.

The gash is about five inches long, trailing the span of his ribcage. It’s deep—but not fatal—just an angry red and oozing blood.

Definitely not the simple 'scratch' he made it out to be.

Your stomach churns at the sight, but you push it down. No time for that.

“Jesus, Joel,” you mutter under your breath, reaching for the alcohol in your kit. “You really know how to underplay a situation, huh?”

He doesn’t respond, just watches you with those dark, calculating eyes of his. Always watching, always assessing.

It’s unnerving, but you focus on the task at hand, grabbing a clean cloth and soaking it with alcohol.

“This is gonna hurt,” you warn, though there’s a part of you that doesn’t mind the idea of causing him a little discomfort.

A petty, vindictive part that still stings from all the scorn he’s thrown your way.

“Just get it over with,” Joel grits out, his voice low and gravelly.

You don’t give him any more warnings as you wipe the soaked cloth over the wound. He flinches, a harsh curse slipping through clenched teeth, but he doesn’t pull away.

You work as quickly as you can, wiping away the blood and dirt with steady hands, your movements as gentle as possible given the situation.

You let out an annoyed huff when the torn fabric of his shirt gets in the way of your hands for a second time.

You lean back on your heels, glancing up at Joel. “You need to take your shirt off.”

Joel raises a brow at you, his lips pressing into a thin line. “That really necessary?”

“Yes, it’s necessary, Joel,” you huff, already losing patience. “Unless you want me to sit here and cut around every thread of this ratty thing while you bleed out, then by all means—”

He sighs heavily, cutting you off as he shifts forward and grabs the hem of his shirt. He tugs at the fabric, grunting in pain each time it strains his ribs.

You roll your eyes at how slow he’s moving, and your patience—already worn thin by the day's events—snaps.

“Jesus Christ, let me help,” you huff, reaching forward and grabbing the fabric.

Joel jerks back slightly, his hand shooting up to stop yours mid-motion. “I got it,” he growls, a sharp edge in his voice.

You glare at him, your hand still caught in his grip. His palm is calloused, his hold firm enough to make your pulse jump unexpectedly.

For a moment, the two of you just sit there, locked in a silent standoff.

Then he releases your hand and pulls the shirt over his head himself, wincing as the movement pulls at his side.

You wait with your arms crossed, trying to ignore the awkward flutter of nerves in your stomach as the fabric peels away to reveal his chest.

Joel’s broad, solid frame isn’t new to you. You’ve seen him shirtless before—brief glimpses when bathing in rivers or changing in run down houses between stops.

But this time feels different, more intimate somehow.

You’re staring, and you know it.

The firelight cast shadows over his skin, illuminating old scars, faint lines of muscle, the barely there jut of his stomach over the hem of his jeans.

You had been getting more game kills recently, two hunters are always better than one.

Joel clears his throat, dragging your focus back to the present. “You gonna gawk all night, or can we move this along?”

You snap out of it, scowling to cover your embarrassment. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

You finish cleaning the gash and grab the small needle and thread lying next to you.

“This’ll hurt worse than the alcohol,” you say, threading the needle easily.

Joel snorts, a rare sound. “Figures.”

The needle pierces his skin, and this time, you catch the smallest hitch in his breath. He doesn’t make a sound, but his jaw tightens, the veins in his neck standing out like cords.

His hands grip the edge of the couch hard enough that his knuckles turn white with it, but he doesn’t tell you to stop or slow down.

He’s too damn proud for that.

You shift closer, your knee brushing against his leg as you position yourself to work from a better angle. You feel his eyes on you, that intense, scrutinizing stare that makes your skin prickle.

“You’ve done this before,” Joel says after a moment, his tone less sharp than before. It’s not quite a question, more of an observation.

You shrug, keeping your hands steady. “Of course I have.”

“Who taught you?”

The question catches you off guard, Joel’s never shown much interest in what your life was before you met him. You glance up briefly, catching his gaze. There’s no malice there, no judgment—just curiosity.

You swallow hard, dragging your eyes back to stitches, half way done now. “My sister.”

You don’t elaborate and Joel doesn’t push.

Maybe it’s the sudden tightness in your tone or the look you know must be clouding your face that keeps him quiet.

You finish off the stitching, tearing the thin strand of thread with your hands before you’re leaning away again.

“Good as new,” you say, dabbing some more alcohol on your own hands to disinfect. “Try not to tear these open anytime soon.”

Joel leans back, strong arms spread across the back of the couch, his face unreadable as he peers down at the fresh stitching on his side.

“Could’ve done it myself,” he mutters, but the edge in his voice is gone, replaced with something softer, almost resigned.

You roll your eyes with a scoff, not even trying to hide your irritation as you rise from the floor. “Sure you could’ve, right before you passed out. You’re welcome by the way.”

You gather your supplies and turn to head back to your bag, but Joel’s voice stops you in your tracks.

“You’re always like this, y’know,” he says, and the words carry that same gravelly drawl, but there’s something new there—something heavier.

You pause, your hands tightening around the kit in your grasp. “Like what?”

“Pushy. Stubborn,” he replies, his tone cutting, though it lacks the usual venom. “Like you’ve got somethin’ to prove all the damn time.”

You whip around, your patience officially gone. “You think I’m stubborn?” you shoot back, your voice rising. “Coming from the guy who would rather bleed out on a fucking couch than admit he needs help?”

Joel’s jaw tightens, and his hands flex against the couch cushions, but you don’t stop. Not now. Not after months of this.

“I’ve been busting my ass since day one to prove that I’m not dead weight to you. I’ve fought for us, for you. And for what? Just to get more of your bullshit attitude?”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about,” Joel snaps, pushing himself upright despite the obvious strain it puts on his freshly stitched wound. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about me.”

“Because you won’t let me!” you fire back, stepping closer, your voice rising. “All you do is look at me like I’m some burden you can’t wait to get rid of.”

Joel’s glare sharpens, his lips parting as if to respond, but you cut him off.

You really can’t stop yourself now that you started, all the anger and frustration reaching a fever pitch hot enough to burst the tight lid you’ve kept on your emotions.

“If I’m such a hassle, why didn’t you just leave me back there, huh? Why didn’t you just walk away like I know you wanted to?”

Joel’s breathing is heavier now, his broad chest rising and falling as his dark eyes bore into yours.

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Then, he stands, and the sheer size of him forces you to tilt your chin up slightly to keep your glare fixed on his face.

“You think I wanted this, kid?” he growls, his voice low and strained, like he’s barely holding himself together. “You think I wanted to be responsible for someone else? To have someone else’s fuckin’ life on me?”

“Don’t call me kid,” you spit, shoving a finger into his chest, ignoring the way his jaw ticks at the contact. “I’m not a fucking kid.”

He scoffs, casting his eyes to the ceiling disbelievingly. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Fuck you, Joel,” you growl, fists clenching at your side. “If you hate me that much, why the hell are you still here? Why didn’t you tell me to fuck off the second you met me?”

“Because I couldn’t!” Joel snaps, booming voice filling the small space.

The confession slips out like it pains him. His fists clench at his sides, and for a moment, he looks like he might break something.

You’ve never been scared of Joel, even though you’ve seen first hand just how scary he can be.

Now, as he looms in front of you, eyes blazing and jaw working furiously beneath his skin, it’s the closest to scared you’ve felt.

“I’ve seen you out there,” he continues, tone low and dark. “You’ve got a fuckin’ death wish. You’re too damn stubborn to just stop, and I’m not gonna let you go so you can run off and get yourself fuckin’ killed.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, his words hitting far too close to home.

“I’m just trying to survive, Joel,” you snap, your voice shaking. “That’s what we do, isn’t it? Survive.”

“Survive,” Joel repeats bitterly, his gaze burning into yours. “That what you call it? Throwin’ yourself into every goddamn fight, gettin’ stabbed and shot right fuckin’ in front of me and expecting me to brush that shit off?”

You let out a humorless laugh, nodding your head exasperatedly. “Yes, yes I do expect you to just brush it off, because that’s what you always do.”

“Well I can’t,” he grates out, taking a step closer. “I can’t ‘cause despite whatever it is that you may think about me, I don’t hate you. I care about you too damn much and that's my goddamn problem.”

That shuts you up, your mouth snapping closed with a sharp click of your teeth as you stare at him, shocked.

Joel holds your gaze, lips pressed into a thin line. “That what you wanted to hear?”

It’s in that moment that the fire finally fizzles out, the dull hiss of it the only sound left in the room.

You’re quiet for a beat, stunned into silence. The heat of his anger, his frustration, it radiates off him, and you realize suddenly that this isn’t just about you.

It never was.

“Then show me,” you challenge softly, your heart pounding in your chest. “Show me that you don’t hate me.”

Joel’s eyes darken, his head cocking to the side as he searches your face for a sign. You don’t say anything, you only square your shoulders and raise your chin, your eyes just as hard as his own.

“I want you to prove it.”

The tension snaps like a rubber band stretched too far.

You shouldn’t—this shouldn’t—happen. Not like this. Not after everything that’s been said.

But when Joel’s lips crash against yours, hot and desperate and urgent, it makes everything blur into nothing.

It’s not gentle, not soft—this is anger and longing and frustration all wrapped into one. It’s messy, frantic, like a fight that’s been brewing for too long.

He grips your arm, pulling you closer, almost too roughly, but it feels like it’s everything you’ve both been avoiding.

His other hand moves to cup the back of your neck, grounding you as his lips press harder against yours, like he’s trying to pour everything he can’t say into this single moment.

You respond just as fiercely, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders as you kiss him back with all the pent-up emotion that’s been simmering beneath the surface.

The coarse hair of his beard scrapes against the skin of your chin deliciously, the scent of blood and firewood filling your senses as his arm wraps around your waist, dragging you impossibly closer.

Close enough that you can feel the wild beat of his heart booming against your chest.

You pull away for a second, breathless, both of you looking at each other, your eyes wide and pupils blown.

“Goddamn it,” Joel mutters, his voice thick with frustration and something else you can’t place. He presses his forehead to yours, the deep brown of his eyes dark than before. “What the hell are we doing?”

You don’t have an answer. You’re not sure if you even want one.

You reach for him again, arms looping around his neck to drag his mouth back to yours.

This kiss is nothing like the first, it isn’t a clash of frustration–it’s filthier, rawer. A near feral thing, all teeth and tongue, a surge of hunger and need that borders on violence.

Joel groans into your mouth, a low, guttural sound that sends a shiver racing down your spine. His teeth catch your bottom lip, pulling just hard enough to make you gasp.

He takes advantage of the sound, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to slide against yours with wet, messy desperation, like he’s trying to claim every inch of you.

The taste of him—salt and iron and something distinctly Joel—makes your head spin.

Your fingers knot into the chocolaty curls at the nape of his neck, surprisingly soft to the touch. His own hands roam the soft curves of your body, rough and insistent, like he can’t decide where he wants to touch you most.

“Joel—” His name spills from your lips like a plea, and he answers with a deep, guttural noise that sends heat pooling low in your belly. His tongue follows the path of his teeth, soothing the bites with lazy, deliberate strokes that make your knees weak.

You’re moving before you even realize it. Joel dragging you across the room and down onto the couch with him, using the strength he’s built up after all these years to manhandle you until your thighs are spread wide on either side of his lap.

“Joel,” you gasp again, rearing back enough to break the kiss. “Your stitches–”

He cuts you off with a sharp nip to the sensitive spot behind your ear, tearing a high whine from your throat. “Can hardly feel ‘em.”

You make a displeased sound, but it’s undermined by the way you tilt your head to give his wandering lips more room. His hands find a home on your hips, one slipping beneath your shirt to press against the soft skin of your stomach.

His fingers splay wide across your skin, his palm callused and rough. His pinky just barely brushes the underside of your breast, and you’re suddenly rearing back.

“Wait,” you say, your voice barely a whisper.

Joel’s hands immediately loosen their grip on your hips, his brows knitting together in concern. “You okay?”

You nod quickly, your heart pounding in your chest. “I just...I need to tell you something.”

His jaw tightens slightly, but he stays quiet, waiting for you to speak.

You take a beat, chewing at the skin of your bottom lip nervously.

“I’ve never...” You pause, swallowing hard as your cheeks heat up. “I’ve never done this before. I mean, I’ve never been with anyone like this.”

Joel pulls back slightly, his expression unreadable as he processes your words. For a moment, you think he might pull away completely, but then he exhales a long, slow breath.

“Christ,” he mutters, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You’re tellin’ me this now?”

“I didn’t exactly plan for this to happen,” you snap back, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “It’s not like I had the luxury of a high school sweetheart to pop my cherry out here.”

Joel’s gaze softens at your tone, and he reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “Hey, hey, I didn’t mean it like that.”

You glance away, suddenly feeling self-conscious under the weight of his stare. “I just...I wanted you to know. But I want this, Joel. I want you.”

His thumb stills against your cheek, and he swallows hard, his adam’s apple bobbing as he considers your words.

“I don’t...” He pauses, the most hesitant you’ve ever heard him. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

It’s the most vulnerable he’s been around you, round eyes shining with something so raw and so earnest it makes your heart ache in your chest.

“You won’t,” you insist, your voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in your stomach. “I trust you.”

Joel’s jaw clenches, and for a moment, he looks like he’s going to argue. But then he nods, his shoulders relaxing as he cups the back of your neck, pulling you closer until your foreheads touch again.

“At least let me do this right,” he murmurs, his voice so soft you almost don’t hear it. “Not here. Not on some goddamn couch.”

You blink up at him, surprised by the tenderness in his tone. “What?”

“Upstairs,” he says, his thumb tracing lazy circles against the side of your neck. “There’s a bed up there. It ain’t much, but it’s better than this.”

You can’t do anything but nod, your pulse racing beneath your skin fast enough to combat the cold night air seeping through the walls.

“Okay,” you say softly, voice barely above a whisper. “Upstairs.”

Joel stands, gently pulling you to feet and taking your hand in his. He leads you upstairs, each step feeling heavier with anticipation. The small bedroom is dimly lit, the faint glow of moonlight filtering through a broken blind.

The bed isn’t much—an old mattress on a worn frame, covered with a patched-up blanket—but it doesn’t matter.

Joel shuts the door behind you, the sound of the latch clicking into place sending a shiver down your spine.

“Last chance,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “You say the word, and we stop. No questions asked.”

Your throat tightens at the sincerity in his tone, the way he’s giving you an out even though you can see the strain in every line of his body, the way his hands flex at his sides like he wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you.

But you don’t hesitate.

You step closer, placing your hands on his bare chest. You bite back a smile at the goosebumps that break out all along his skin at your touch.

“Jesus, Miller,” you mumble teasingly, nails lightly scratching through the salt and pepper hair scattered along his chest. “How long are you gonna drag this out before you get it through your thick skull that I want to fuck you?”

"Christ." Joel huffs, shaking his head as the corners of his lips turn up in a small grin. “Like I fuckin’ said,” he starts, big hands kneading the meat of your hips. “Pushy.”

Joel walks you backward until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you fall onto it with a soft gasp.

He follows you immediately, crawling over you, his body covering yours, his weight a comforting pressure. “I’ll take care of you,” he murmurs, his lips brushing yours. “I’ll make it good for you, I swear.”

His fingers are everywhere, unbuttoning your shirt with a practiced ease that has your pulse racing. His lips follow the path of his hands, each touch a branding mark, each kiss leaving you wanting more.

“Pretty girl,” he mutters softly, pressing a kiss right between the valley of your breasts.

You feel his cock stirring against your stomach, and it makes the ache between your legs flare to life, the weight of it, the hardness of it, driving you crazy with need.

You want him so badly you can barely think straight, but when his lips graze over your collarbone, you can’t stop the quiet whine that escapes your throat.

Joel growls in response, a sound that resonates deep in his chest, and you know then that he’s as far gone as you are. His hands slide down to the waistband of your pants, tugging them down your legs with urgency.

As your skin is exposed to the cool air, you can feel the heat of his gaze on you, like he’s memorizing every inch of you.

“You’re fuckin' perfect,” he mutters, his voice thick with desire.

Joel's hands find your thighs, parting them with a deliberate slowness that makes your breath catch in your throat. He positions himself between your legs, his body weight pressing you into the mattress, his chest rising and falling with the same frantic rhythm as yours.

The anticipation is almost unbearable as his fingers trace the line of your panties, the fabric damp with want.

“Jesus, she’s drippin’ for me already,” he mutters, voice rough, as he slides the material to the side, his thumb brushing over the sensitive swell of your clit.

Your body jerks at the contact, a desperate sound escaping your lips, but Joel doesn’t relent.

“You touch yourself down here, baby?” he asks, working tortuously slow circles over your clit.

"Please," you beg, your hands grasping at the sheets, pulling at them as if they can anchor you to the moment.

He looks up at you, his gaze dark and filled with an intensity that makes your stomach tighten. “Asked you a question, honey.”

You whine, high and loud in your throat as your thighs clench desperately around his wrist. “Yes, I touch myself.”

Joel’s lips curl into a satisfied grin, sliding his thick index finger through the messy wetness to slip inside your clenching hole, making you gasp. Your hands grasp at the sheets, pulling at them as if they can anchor you to the moment.

“Good girl,” he breathes, eyes darkening at the broken moan that bursts from your lips. “When’s the last time you touched yourself?”

Your brain feels hazy as you search for the answer, pleasure clouding your mind slow and sweet as molasses. “A–a few nights ago.”

Joel hums idly, slipping a second finger alongside the first. The stretch has you whining, his fingers a lot more to take than your own.

Your hands come up to claw at his shoulders, relishing in the way his broad muscle ripples and shifts beneath your greedy palms.

“Joel,” you whine, hips canting down against his hand impatiently.

He just shushes you softly, free hand brushing soothing circles along the skin of your inner thigh. “I know, honey,” he mutters, the pace fingers speeding up. “But I gotta get her nice and ready if you wanna take my cock.”

The gush of your pussy around his fingers is loud in the stillness of the room, a filthy wet noise that burns your ears each time he plunges them into your aching hole.

“I am ready.” Your breath hitches as your body begins to tremble beneath him. “Please, Joel—fuck—please, I need—”

“Need what?” His voice is thick with dark amusement, but there's a hunger in his eyes that has your stomach twisting. “Tell me, baby. What do you need?”

“I need you,” you rasp, your nails digging little crescent moons into his skin, your body pleading for release. “I need you inside me.”

Your hands grab at his hair, pulling him back up to meet your lips in a feverish kiss.

The pressure of his body on yours, the way his hard cock grinds against your trembling thigh, drives you to the brink of madness.

Your hands trail down his chest, past the waistband of his jeans, finally reaching the bulge straining against the fabric.

Joel groans when you rub him through his pants, feeling his cock twitch in response. He pulls back, breathing heavily, his lips curling into a smirk.

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice thick with lust. “You want my cock in this pretty pussy? Want me to show you how good it feels to be fucked?”

“God, yes,” you answer, desperation lacing your tone as your hand moves to unbuckle his jeans. “Want it so bad.”

He lets you push his pants down just enough to free his cock, and you gasp, your eyes drawn to the way his length stands, thick and hard, just waiting for you. The tip flushed an angry red, drooling pre-come onto the scratchy sheets.

Joel pulls his fingers from you, using his hands spreading your legs wider, positioning himself between them with such careful precision that you can barely stand it.

The head of his cock drags through the mess between your legs, slipping all the way down till it catches on your soaked entrance.

Joel pauses, looking down at you, waiting for your signal, but the only answer you give is a pleading whimper, your hands pulling at his shoulders, urging him to move.

His mouth captures yours once again as he slowly slides into you, the stretch of his cock filling you steadily, making you gasp into his mouth.

The slow burn of him carving a place for himself inside of you is almost too much, your body trembling as you adjust to the feeling of him.

“Fuck, baby,” Joel mutters against your lips. “You’re so tight, so fuckin’ perfect for me.”

As he sinks deeper into you, his thick cock finally buried to the hilt inside of you, the feeling is overwhelming. You gasp, nails digging into his back as the pain slowly shifts into pleasure.

Joel groans into your mouth, his hands moving to your hips, guiding you as he rocks gently against you.

The rhythm is slow at first, deliberate, as if he's savoring every inch of you. Your body quivers beneath him, every inch of your skin tingling with sensation. You clutch at him, your legs tightening around his waist, needing more, wanting more.

"That's it," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "Take it, baby."

You screw your eyes shut tightly, trying to steady yourself as he thrusts deeper, harder. The angle shifts just enough to make your breath catch in your throat.

Every stroke feels like it’s hitting the deepest part of you, sparking heat in places you never knew could burn so hot.

"Fuck," you gasp, the sensation too overwhelming, too much in the best way. "Joel... please..."

"Please what, sweetheart?" He pulls back slightly, teasing you with a slow roll of his hips before driving back in with a grunt.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, urging him to move faster, harder. "Don’t stop," you breathe, your voice trembling. "I need you to fuck me, Joel. Faster. Harder. Please."

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as Joel finally picks up the pace, each thrust harder and deeper than the last.

Your back arches off the bed, chest pressing flush to his as your body coils tighter and tighter, already so close to the edge.

Joel reaches up to take your wrist in his, dragging your hand down to press flat against your lower stomach.

“Feel that?” he asks breathlessly, the speed of his hips knocking the dingy bed frame into the wall with every thrust. “You feel how deep I am?”

His own hand blankets yours, pushing down so you can feel the way his cock punches up against your palm on the next thrust.

Your pussy clenches desperately around him at the feeling, your slick lips dropping open on a loud moan.

You can barely hold on. The heat in your stomach tightens, coiling painfully as your free hand scrambles to find purchase on his skin. "I can't—I'm gonna—"

He grits his teeth, his jaw clenched as he drives deeper, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "Come for me, baby," he growls, his voice dark and commanding. "Let me feel it."

With a strangled cry, you finally release, your body clenching around him, every nerve igniting in a white-hot explosion of pleasure.

You’re lost in it, your world spinning, your senses overwhelmed by the sensation of Joel’s body pounding into yours, the way his cock brushes against that sweet spot behind your clit enough to make sparks go off behind your eyelids.

Joel pulls out of your velvety warmth, hand coming up to fist his dripping length until he’s bowing over you tightly and coming with a deep groan of your name.

His release paints your stomach with milky strands of white, rope after rope of warm come claiming you in a way no one has before.

He finally collapses against you with one last shuddering breath, both of you breathing heavily, your chests rising and falling together in the quiet aftermath.

For a few moments, neither of you speaks, the only sounds are the soft creak of the bed and the quiet hum of your racing hearts.

Joel rests his head against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin, and you can feel the tension begin to slip away, the weight of everything that’s happened between you both settling into something new—something different, but still there.

Your hand slips down the sweaty expanse of your stomach, your fingers swiping through the sticky mess of his release curiously.

“Christ, quit that,” Joel groans, tearing his eyes away from the sight to press his forehead against your shoulder.

“Why?” you hum, brow raised in amusement as you drop your hand back to the mattress. “Can you even get it up again?”

Joel pinches your side hard enough to make you squeal, your body flinching away from him as a surprised laugh bubbles from your chest.

“Watch it,” he warns, though there’s no bite to his tone. You only laugh in response.

The two of you settle into a comfortable silence, wrapped in each other as crickets chirp from outside the window.

Then Joel clears his throat, fingers idly tracing different shapes on the skin of your hip as he gathers the courage to speak.

A circle, a square, a diamond, a circle, a heart, a heart, a heart.

“I’m…” he starts, trailing off softly. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a real fuckin’ prick, and you didn’t deserve it. You never did.”

You turn your own gaze to his chest, hand coming up so you can trail your fingers along the jagged scar decorating his shoulder. Your touch featherlight over the rough patch of skin.

All the anger seeps from your body, a heavy weight gone until you feel so light you could float off the mattress and into the cold night air.

“It’s okay,” you whisper softly, so soft you think it gets lost in the quiet darkness of the room. “I understand now.”

And for the first time in what feels like forever, you both just lay there, tangled in each other, not worrying about the world outside, about the chaos that waits.

Just you, him, and the soft glow of moonlight.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

mini nat's note: should i add joel to my taglist...i do kinda want to write more for him in the future but i'm not sure yet...lmk chickens <3 bee tee dubs sorry the ending absolutely sucks i could not for the life of me figure out how to end this LMAO

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