#i have no idea if it was intentional or not but i laughed so fucking hard

[zylokv]

VOW UNDONE. — myoui mina

❝ you're my spouse on paper, however you're not my responsibility.❞

synopsis — the betrayal hits harder when it comes from someone you thought had your back.

word count ! — 10.4k

— myoui mina x reader !

notice — heavily inspired by @neoplatinum, aswell as cozuzi and a bit of queen of tears.

disclaimer ! — this story is a work of fiction. the portrayal of characters, events, and relationships does not reflect the real lives or personalities of any individuals mentioned. themes of infidelity and emotional conflict are explored, but the intention is not to glamorize toxic behavior.

series masterlist !

part five !

your fingers hover over the screen as the video ends, but you don’t move. the room feels colder, quieter, suffocating in its stillness. you blink, but the tears that well up refuse to fall, blurring the edges of everything.

your chest feels tight, the kind of ache that spreads, starting small and then consuming you, piece by piece. your hands tremble, gripping the usb drive like it’s the only thing keeping you anchored.

because you know. deep down, you know.

you try to take a breath, but it hitches, a sharp, jagged thing that only makes your head spin more.

“fuck,” you whisper, the word cracking as it leaves your lips.

the realization feels too big, too heavy to hold on your own. you stand abruptly, pushing back your chair so hard it scrapes against the floor, the sound grating.

you need answers. you need someone to tell you why.

grabbing your coat and keys, you shove the usb drive into your pocket and head for the door, not even bothering to lock it behind you. the drive to sehun’s office is a blur. the tears don’t fall, but your chest burns with the effort of holding them back.

it’s only when you burst through his office door that the dam finally starts to crack.

“you,” you choke out, voice already raw.

sehun looks up, startled, his usual smirk wiped clean off his face when he sees yours.

“hey, what’s going—”

“don’t,” you cut him off, your voice trembling. you take a step closer, your hand gripping the back of a chair like it’s the only thing keeping you upright.

he stands, his brows knitting in concern—or maybe it’s guilt. “okay, let’s take a breath—”

“don’t you fucking tell me to breathe,” you snap, your voice breaking.

the anger rises first, sharp and hot, and before you know it, your fist slams against his desk. the pain shoots up your arm, grounding you for just a second before you’re looking at him again, eyes wild and brimming with unshed tears.

“you knew, didn’t you?” your voice shakes, but the words spill out anyway. “you knew what was on that drive, and you still gave it to me.”

sehun’s face hardens, but there’s something softer in his eyes—pity, maybe. you hate it.

“listen—”

“no, you listen!” you’re shouting now, the tears finally spilling over, hot and relentless. “do you have any idea what it’s like? to see that? to feel like your entire life is a fucking lie?”

your voice cracks on the last word, and you falter, your shoulders trembling as the weight of it all comes crashing down.

you sink into the chair, burying your face in your hands. the sobs come, harsh and unrelenting, ripping through you like a storm.

“why?” you whisper, your voice muffled but desperate. “why the fuck didn’t you tell me? why would you let me find out like this?”

sehun steps closer, his expression conflicted. he hesitates, and you feel the weight of his gaze, but you can’t look at him.

“i thought…” he starts, then stops, running a hand through his hair. “i thought you deserved the truth. even if i'm your enemy and even if it hurts.”

you laugh bitterly, wiping at your face. “well, congratulations. it fucking hurts. you've defeated me.”

he sighs, leaning against the desk, watching you like he doesn’t know what to say.

you don’t wait for him to figure it out. you stand, your legs shaky but determined, and head for the door.

“wait—”

“don’t,” you cut him off, your voice hollow now. “just don’t.”

and with that, you’re gone, leaving him and his half-formed apologies behind.

-----

the house is unnervingly quiet when sana steps inside, calling out, “hey? you here?” her voice echoes faintly in the stillness. it wasn’t like them to leave without saying anything.

she looks around, her gaze darting to the empty couch and the untouched pile of toys in the corner. she frowns. it was rare for the place to feel this lifeless, and a strange unease creeps in.

“they better not have forgotten we had plans,” she mutters under her breath, slipping off her shoes.

she’d come over to hang out, and return something she borrowed, something you had been frantically searching for last week. she’d laughed about their scatterbrained tendencies at the time, but now, standing in the oddly quiet house, the humor felt distant.

her gaze catches on the faint glow coming from the slightly ajar office door. they never leave their office like that.

curiosity gets the better of her. “are you in there?” she calls, stepping closer.

the desk is a mess—papers scattered, a mug half-empty, and the laptop on but unattended. her eyes land on the screen. a downloaded video file is open, frozen on the first frame.

she reaches out, brushing the mouse to wake the screen fully. the video stutters to life, and her breath catches as the image sharpens.

mina.

with him.

sana freezes, her stomach plummeting as the scene unfolds before her. her heartbeat thunders in her ears, and she stumbles back a step, the chair bumping against her leg.

“no,” she whispers, her voice shaking.

her phone is in her hand before she realizes it, dialing their number with trembling fingers. it rings, and rings, and then cuts to voicemail. she curses softly, trying again.

still nothing.

panic surges. sana presses a hand to her forehead, pacing the small space. she glances at the screen again, her chest tightening painfully at the implications.

thinking quickly, she scrolls through her contacts and dials mina instead. the line barely connects before mina answers, her tone calm, composed, and unaware. “sana? what’s wrong?”

“where are you?” sana’s voice is sharp, trembling with urgency.

“what?” mina sounds taken aback. “what are you—”

“where are you.” sana cuts her off, her voice rising.

mina pauses, clearly unsettled. “at myoui residence. why? what’s goin—”

but sana doesn’t wait to hear more. all she can think is that you're probably with mina. she hangs up mid-sentence, shoving her phone into her pocket as she storms out of the house.

her hands tighten around the steering wheel as she speeds toward the myoui residence, her mind racing with every possible scenario. the image of the video lingers, vivid and damning.

“damn it, mina.” she mutters under her breath, the weight of what she’s just seen pressing down on her chest.

-----

you could feel the anger seeping into every inch of your body as you drove to the myoui residence. the tight grip on the steering wheel, the pounding in your chest, the way your pulse seemed to quicken with each passing second—it was all too much. you were trying to keep it together, trying to maintain some kind of calm, but every thought of what had been happening—the lies, the betrayal—pushed you closer to snapping.

when you finally pulled into the driveway, your fingers still gripping the wheel like you might break it, you took a deep breath. calm. you had to be calm. but you knew that as soon as you stepped out of the car, it was all over.

you walked up to the garden, taking slow, deliberate steps, trying to compose yourself, but it didn’t help. your eyes immediately landed on the scene before you—mina, sitting there, too damn composed as always, and bambam, joking with momo and laughing like nothing in the world mattered. momo was playing with hiro, and there it was. that was the moment.

your heart pounded in your ears. they were here. he was here. everything you had been holding back was threatening to break.

you took one more deep breath, tightening your jaw as you walked over to the butler. “take hiro inside. now.”

the butler didn’t ask questions. he just nodded, understanding the tension in the air. within moments, he had hiro in his arms, retreating inside the house, leaving you alone with them.

suddenly, rushed footsteps entered the garden but you paid no attention.

sana’s voice broke through the air then, frantic and high-pitched, practically running as she rushed toward you, her face a mask of panic. “yah! are you okay?” she asked, her hands reaching for you, trying to make sense of what was happening.

but you couldn’t even look at her, not with the way your rage was bubbling up inside you.

mina, watching from her spot, saw right through it. for the first time, she was confused. her calm, collected expression never wavered, but you could feel the tension crackling between you two.

“what’s going on?” mina asked, her voice deceptively soft, like she hadn’t just thrown you into this mess.

before you could answer, bambam stood up, still smiling like a damn idiot. the sight of him made your blood run cold. it was the last straw. you didn’t think, didn’t plan, didn’t care. you moved faster than anyone could stop you, rushing at bambam and slamming your fist into his face.

the first hit landed with a sickening crunch, his head jerking back. he barely had time to react before you hit him again, and again, your fists connecting with his face,—each blow fueled by the seething anger you could no longer control.

“you think you can just come in here like this? like you’ve done nothing wrong?” you spat, throwing another punch, this one aimed at his nose. your knuckles cracked against his bone, the sickening pop of bone ringing in your ears.

bambam swung back, his fist connecting with your lips, the pain sharp and instant. blood dripped from your busted lip, but you didn’t care. you kept going.

mina tried to step in, reaching for your arm, but you shoved her off with a violent force that sent her stumbling backward. her shock and confusion were clear, but it didn’t matter. not right now.

“stop! what are you doing!?” momo's voice cut through the chaos, frantic, as she rushed forward, hands gripping your arm in a desperate attempt to pull you away. but you shrugged her off with a force so brutal that she nearly lost her balance.

sana stood frozen, her face pale, eyes wide with fear. she tried to say something, to call out, but you were too far gone.

it wasn’t until your fists slowed, your breath heavy and ragged, that you finally pulled back. bambam was on the ground now, panting, bloodied, and dazed. you stood over him for a moment, chest heaving as you wiped your lip with the back of your hand, smearing more blood across your face.

then you turned your eyes on mina, and the anger was so intense, so palpable, that it felt like the air itself was burning.

you turn to mina then, your eyes dark and furious. your lip is split, but you don’t care. you pull out the USB from my pocket, the one that’s going to show her exactly how far this shit’s gone, and you throw it at her with everything you've got. the impact is sharp, and she flinches as it hits her chest.

“figure this shit out,” you muttered, your voice low and threatening.

momo stood there, shocked, unsure of what to do as she knelt beside bambam, checking on him, her face a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

you took one last look at mina, but she didn’t move, didn’t try to comfort you like she always did.

instead, you turned your gaze to sana, who was still standing off to the side, clearly terrified, but she was the one you let approach you. she hesitated, but only for a second, before stepping closer, reaching out with caution.

mina’s gaze flickered between you and sana, and for the first time, she seemed to understand. she didn’t move.

you stepped back from sana’s touch, but you let her get closer. because it was never going to be mina. not now.

-----

you turn around, throwing the wedding ring down the concrete floor, but before you could even get out of the garden, you heard her voice.

“wait!” mina’s voice cracked through the air, sharp with panic. “please, what happened!?”

but you didn’t stop. you didn’t even look back. you couldn’t.

you knew she was standing there, her hand reaching out, but you couldn’t—wouldn’t—let her have this.

and then, you heard the sound of footsteps. someone running, frantic, close behind you.

it was sana.

“hey—hey!” she called out, her voice trembling. you didn’t stop. you couldn’t. but she didn’t hesitate. she came after you, her steps faster, more urgent than mina’s ever could be.

you didn’t care. you didn’t want anyone. you didn’t want to feel this anymore.

you reached the outside, silently cursing at how giant this place was when you just wanted to get to your car, soon sana was there, standing in front of you, out of breath. “please,” she begged, voice cracking. “let me in. just—just stop.”

but you didn’t stop. you couldn’t stop. not until—

you broke.

it happened all at once. all that control, all that anger, every piece of you that had been holding it in for so long just collapsed in on itself. your chest tightened, and the tears you’d been fighting so hard to keep back came pouring out. sobs wracked your body, violent and raw, like you couldn’t breathe.

sana didn’t say anything. she just wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close as you fell apart in her embrace. it wasn’t like the hugs you’d had before, not with her, not with anyone. this was different. this was you—shattering—and sana was there, holding you together with everything she had.

"i can't do this anymore," you choked out between sobs, your hands clutching at her as if she were the only thing keeping you from falling completely apart. “she—she’s been lying to me. she’s been cheating. i—I saw it. i—saw it, sana."

her hands were trembling as she held you, and you could feel her own breath hitch in her throat, like she was trying not to cry with you. she didn’t say anything at first. she just let you break.

but you needed to get it out. needed someone to hear it.

“she hurt me, sana. she did it—and she doesn’t care. did i even fucking matter?” your voice broke, and you couldn’t keep going without falling deeper. “i’ve been so fucking stupid. i thought—i thought maybe she cared, but—fuck, i—i thought she was mine.”

the words burned your throat as you cried harder, a deep, aching sob that felt like it was ripping you open. sana didn’t let go. she held you tighter, her arms around you like a lifeline. but even that wasn’t enough. nothing was enough to fix this.

you didn’t know how long you stood there, sobbing in her arms, but when you finally pulled back, your face was soaked with tears, your lip still bleeding from the fight, your chest heavy with emotion.

sana looked at you, her face pale, eyes wide, but she wasn’t scared. she wasn’t pulling away. she didn’t look at you like mina did. sana saw you—really saw you. and for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel alone.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out. “i’m sorry for being like this, for—for everything.”

sana’s eyes softened. her hands gently cupped your face, her thumbs brushing away the tears, the blood. she didn’t say anything for a long moment, but when she finally did, her voice was barely above a whisper.

“you don’t have to be sorry,” she said, her voice cracking, like she was holding back just as much as you were. “you don’t have to carry this alone.”

and in that moment, for just a second, you felt something. something close to hope. because sana—sana—was the only one who didn’t look at you like you were broken. like you were something to fix.

you closed your eyes, letting the tears fall freely, letting yourself feel it all—the hurt, the loss, the betrayal—and in her arms, for the first time in a long time, you finally felt like it was okay to fall apart.

------

the bar was a haze of dim lights and murmured conversations, but to you, it was just noise. you were slumped over the counter, swirling the amber liquid in your glass like it held the answers to every question you didn’t dare ask.

“another,” you mumbled, your voice hoarse. the bartender hesitated but poured anyway, his eyes flickering with concern.

your phone buzzed on the counter, her name lighting up the screen. mina.

you stared at it, the weight of her name pressing down on your chest until it hurt. when it stopped ringing, you exhaled shakily and knocked back your drink.

“you look like you’ve been through hell,” a voice chimed beside you.

you turned sluggishly, eyes landing on a woman with a bunny smile and a glint in her eyes.

“you don’t know the half of it,” you muttered.

she extended a hand, her confidence cutting through the haze. “nayeon.”

you blinked at her hand, then shook it half-heartedly. “nice to meet you, nayeon.”

“your turn,” she said, leaning on the counter. “what’s your name?”

you hesitated, the weight of the question heavier than it should’ve been. finally, you gave it, your voice quiet.

“so,” she said, resting her chin in her hand, “what’s got you looking like the world’s most tragic main character?”

you barked a laugh, hollow and bitter. “life. that’s all.”

“well, lucky for you,” she said with a playful grin, “i’m excellent at making people forget their problems.”

her words hung in the air, an unspoken offer. and for a moment, just a moment, you considered it.

but then you saw her—mina, not here, but in your mind. the way she looked at you when she thought you weren’t watching. the way she whispered your name like it was something sacred. and then the memory twisted, her face replaced by that night. her betrayal. her lies.

“thanks,” you said, your voice cracking, “but no.”

“no?” nayeon echoed, clearly surprised.

“i have a wife,” you said, and the words felt like a knife to your chest. “even if she doesn’t deserve it, i made a vow.”

nayeon’s smile faltered, and she nodded slowly. “you’re a good one,” she said softly. “even when it hurts.”

"for better, for worse" when she left, the silence was deafening.

“you’re a goddamn mess,” a familiar voice broke through, sharp and cutting.

you didn’t need to look to know who it was. “go away, sana.”

“not a chance,” she said, sliding onto the stool beside you. “do you have any idea how many times i’ve had to drag your sorry ass out of here?”

“too many?” you shot back, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

“exactly,” she snapped.

you sighed, the weight of her words crushing you. “what do you want me to say, sana? that i’m fine? because i’m not.”

“i don’t want you to say anything,” she said, her voice softer now. “i just want you to stop destroying yourself.”

you laughed bitterly. “you don’t get it. you don’t know what it feels like to love someone so much it physically hurts. to have that love shattered.”

“stop talking nonsense,” she said, her tone steady. “i do know what it looks like when someone’s drowning.”

her words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe.

“come on,” she said, standing and offering you her hand. “let’s get you out of here.”

you stared at her hand, your vision blurring. and for the first time in a long time, you let someone pull you out of the darkness.

outside, the night air was cold and biting, but it felt almost cleansing.

“you don’t have to do this,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible.

“do what?” she asked, glancing at you.

“be the one to save me.”

she stopped walking, turning to face you. “i’m not trying to save you,” she said quietly. “i’m just trying to remind you that you’re worth saving.”

"doesn't make sense." you mumble sassily as you let her dragged you chuckling slightly at her offended expression.

but as her words sank in, you felt something shift—just a little, but enough to make you believe it might be true— but, ofcourse you're too stubborn.

-----

the office was too quiet, save for the faint hum of the city outside, muffled by the walls of glass that once made her feel untouchable. myoui mina sat in the dim light of her desk lamp, her hands trembling as she stared at the photograph in her hands. your smile, so bright and genuine, next to hers, a practiced elegance she could barely recognize now. and in the corner, hiro, beaming in a way only innocence could bring.

the frame was cracked, the glass splintered across your face. she hadn’t meant to drop it, but now it felt fitting. she set it down gently, her fingertips lingering on the jagged edge of the frame.

the myoui name had always stood for power, poise, and perfection. mina embodied it effortlessly—every step, every glance calculated, every word weighed with precision. she was untouchable, a pillar of composure even under the harshest scrutiny.

but tonight, myoui mina was crumbling.

“i ruined it,” she whispered, her voice raw. it wasn’t just a statement; it was a confession, one she’d been too proud to make aloud until now.

her breath hitched, her chest tightening as the memory clawed its way back to her. she hated bambam for pushing her, for planting the seed of insecurity she thought she’d outgrown. his words still echoed in her mind from that night—dripping with something she mistook for comfort, laced with just enough poison to make her falter.

"you deserve better than this," he had said, his hand brushing against hers. "they're way too busy with work, what if they have someone else too?"

she hated herself more for listening, for letting his words crawl under her skin and fester until they became louder than your love.

her fist slammed against the desk, papers scattering. “stupid,” she spat, the word aimed at herself. “so fucking stupid.”

her sobs started low, breaking through the practiced calm she always carried. she glance at the picture frame reaching for it as she slid off the chair, her knees hitting the hardwood floor with a dull thud. her hands clutched the picture frame at her chest, as if she could tear out the guilt that was choking her.

she sat on the cold floor of her office, the world she had meticulously built feeling like it was closing in on her. her pristine dress, usually a symbol of her unshakable authority, was rumpled, stained with tears. her hair, always styled to perfection, clung to her damp face.

"you loved me," she cried, her voice cracking. "you loved me, and i... i threw it away. for what? for what?"

the room spun, the weight of her actions crushing her. she thought of your face, the way it looked the last time you saw her—betrayed, disappointed, as if the very sight of her was a burden. she had done that. myoui mina— the epitome of coldness had turned her warm love into resentment, warmth into coldness.

“why did i listen to him?” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. "why wasn’t i enough?"

she tried to steady herself, but the weight of it all pressed her back down. she clutched the frame to her chest, the broken glass cutting into her palm. the pain was sharp, and droplets of blood started to drip down her hand, but it was nothing compared to the ache that consumed her.

she had been the picture of grace, of strength. yet here she was, on the floor, pleading to a god she didn’t even believe in.

“please,” she cried, her voice hoarse. “please... let me fix this. i’ll do anything. anything.”

she crawled to the edge of her desk, her bloody fingers fumbling for her phone. the screen lit up, your picture staring back at her. she dialed a number she hadn’t used in years, her voice shaking as the call connected.

"it’s me," she said, barely above a whisper.

"i need you to... take care of something. i don't care how. i'll give you that damn company if you want to."

-----

it was late, and the silence of the room was suffocating, broken only by the occasional clink of ice in sana’s glass. she sat across from you, her playful demeanor dulled to something sharper, something simmering beneath the surface. you were frustrated, the weight of everything pressing down on you like a vice, and sana—sana of all people—was here trying to tell you how to feel.

“you wouldn’t understand,” you snapped, pacing the room. “you don’t know what it’s like.”

she stiffened, her lips thinning as her grip tightened on the glass. “don’t i?” she said quietly, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and something else—hurt, maybe.

you glanced at her, frowning. sana rarely looked anything other than confident, but now her eyes were glassy, her jaw tight.

“remember when i resented you?” she asked, the words coming out clipped, like they were dragged from some deep, hidden place.

you blinked, confused. “yeah, i remember. you never said why, though.”

she laughed bitterly, setting her glass down with a sharp clink. “because i didn’t want to admit it. not to myself, and definitely not to you.”

“admit what?”

her gaze met yours, steady and unflinching now. “that i liked bambam. and bambam—he liked mina.”

the words hit like a small crack in the foundation of your understanding. “...what?”

sana leaned back, crossing her arms. “since we were kids. he was always looking at her like she hung the moon, and she—” her voice broke slightly before she caught herself. “she treated him like he was her little brother. never gave him a chance. but that didn’t matter to him. and i was always in her shadow.”

“why resent me, then?” you asked, still grappling with the revelation. “i couldn’t control that.”

she hesitated, her bravado faltering. “because i thought—i thought you’d be just like her. like you’d walk in, marry her, and look down on me too. like you’d make everything worse.”

you stared at her, the sharp edges of your frustration softening as you watched her struggle to keep her composure. “sana...”

“i know—,” she interrupted, her voice softening. “back then, i was insecure. jealous. i was convinced you were going to ruin everything just by existing.”

you let out a dry laugh, running a hand through your hair. “sana, if i could’ve ruined everything by existing, i’d have done it years ago.”

she snorted despite herself, the tension breaking slightly. “okay, fair. but still... i hated you for all the wrong reasons. and when bambam and mina—when i saw that video... it felt like it was happening all over again.”

you looked at her, and for the first time, you didn’t see the bright, confident sana everyone else saw. you saw someone who’d been carrying a weight for far too long.

“i get it now,” you said quietly. “you don’t hate me. you hated what i made you feel about yourself.”

she nodded, her expression unreadable. “yeah. and i hated how easy it was for you to just... fit in. like you belonged here more than i ever did.”

“sana,” you said, leaning forward slightly. “you belong here. more than i do.”

she blinked, startled by your honesty. “you’re just saying that because you feel bad.”

“no, i’m saying it because it’s true,” you replied, managing a faint smile. “and because if you don’t, who’s going to annoy me into staying sane?”

she finally laughed, the sound breaking through the heaviness in the air. “you’re such a sap when you’re exhausted.”

“and you’re still annoying,” you shot back, but there was no bite to it.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. you just sat there, two people who’d been at odds for so long finally finding common ground.

“thanks,” she said quietly, after a long pause. “for not being the person i thought you were.”

you shrugged, leaning back against the couch. “anytime.”

the silence that followed wasn’t heavy this time. it was almost... peaceful.

-----

the rain batters down relentlessly as mina steps out of her sleek black car, her stilettos sinking slightly into the muddy ground. she’s dressed in a pristine, tailored coat, the sharp lines of her outfit untouched by the disarray she feels inside. her hair, always perfectly styled, now clings to her face, the rain smudging her usually flawless makeup. it’s a picture of elegance—on any other day, she’d look untouchable.

but today, she looks ruined.

her legs feel like lead as she climbs the steps to sana’s door. her chest heaves with the weight of a hundred unspoken words, the cold rain doing nothing to numb the fire of regret burning in her lungs.

she knocks once, twice, and then her fist pounds against the wood, her desperation bleeding through. the polished, composed woman the world knows as myoui mina is nowhere to be found.

when sana opens the door, her breath catches—not because mina is standing there, but because of how she’s standing there. the regal heiress, who has never known hunger, never tasted real rejection, is utterly wrecked. her soaked clothes cling to her trembling frame, the harsh rain accentuating the cracks in her usually impeccable facade.

“sana,” mina rasps, her voice raw and trembling. “please. tell me where they are.”

“what the hell are you doing here?” sana asks, her tone sharp, though her eyes flicker with unease. she’s never seen mina like this—not even close.

mina steps forward, her knees buckling slightly, and without warning, she collapses to the ground. she doesn’t care that the expensive fabric of her coat is now caked in dirt. her head bows low, her hands pressed together like she’s offering her soul.

“i need to see them,” mina whispers, her voice cracking. “please. tell me where they are. i’ll do anything.”

sana flinches. this is not the mina she knows. this is not the woman who moves through life untouchable, who always has the upper hand.

“get up,” sana snaps, trying to steel herself against the flood of emotions threatening to pull her under.

mina shakes her head violently, her wet hair whipping against her face. “no. not until you tell me.”

“you’re making a fool of yourself,” sana says, though her voice wavers. “look at you. this isn’t you.”

“don’t you think i know that?” mina cries, her voice rising as her composure shatters. “do you think i care? i’d give up everything—everything, sana—if it means i can fix this. please, just… just tell me they’re okay. tell me they don’t hate me.”

sana’s lips press into a thin line, her jaw tight. she looks away, unable to bear the sight of mina begging like this.

mina’s knees buckle slightly, but she forces herself to stay upright. “i was scared, sana,” she says, her voice trembling. “i was scared of how much they mattered to me. i thought… i thought if i sabotaged it first, it wouldn’t hurt as much if they ever left. but i was wrong.”

“no shit,” sana mutters, crossing her arms.

“i destroyed everything,” mina continues, tears streaming down her face, indistinguishable from the rain. “but i can’t just give up. i can’t let this be the end.”

sana looks away, her lips pressed into a thin line. the sight of mina—always so composed, so untouchable—reduced to this mess of tears and desperation is unsettling.

“why are you even telling me this?” sana asks, her voice softer now, though her expression remains guarded.

mina takes a shaky breath, her shoulders slumping. “because you’re the only one who knows where they might be. and because…” she hesitates, her voice breaking. “because i need someone to tell me if it’s even worth trying anymore.”

sana’s jaw clenches, her hands curling into fists. she hates this—hates seeing mina, drenched and desperate, breaking apart in front of her.

“you’re pathetic,” sana says, her tone biting. “you’ve had everything handed to you on a silver platter your whole life, and now, when it all comes crashing down, you can’t even face it.”

mina nods, her tears falling harder. “i am pathetic,” she whispers. “i know that. but they’re everything to me, sana. they’re the only thing that’s ever made me feel…” she trails off, struggling to find the words. “like i could be more than what people expect me to be.”

sana exhales slowly, her expression softening despite herself. “they loved you, mina,” she says quietly. “probably more than you deserved. and you threw that away.”

mina lets out a broken sob, sinking to her knees on the wet porch. her hands press against the ground, her head bowed as she cries. “i know,” she whispers. “but please… please… just tell me where they are.”

sana hesitates, her heart twisting at the sight. this wasn’t the mina she knew—the cold, calculating heiress. this was someone raw and human, stripped of all pretense.

“even if i did,” sana says softly, her voice laced with sorrow, “what makes you think they’d want to see you like this?”

mina looks up at her, her face a portrait of anguish. “i don’t know,” she admits. “but i have to try. because if i don’t…” her voice cracks, and she presses a hand to her chest. “i’ll never forgive myself.”

sana stares at her, arms crossed tightly, her face a mask of disbelief and guarded pity. “you think crying in the rain is going to fix this? you think they’ll just forget what you did?”

mina shakes her head violently, droplets flying from her soaked hair. “no,” she whispers, her voice barely audible above the rain. “i don’t expect forgiveness. i don’t… i don’t deserve it.” her voice breaks, her shoulders trembling as she forces herself to continue. “but i need them to know… it wasn’t because i didn’t love them.”

sana’s expression hardens. “and that makes it better? what were you thinking, mina? how could you do something like that to someone who gave you everything?”

mina raises her head, her tear-streaked face a mixture of anguish and raw vulnerability. “i was scared,” she admits, her voice shaking. “i didn’t know how to love them the way they deserved. i didn’t know how to let myself be loved. do you know what it’s like to grow up in a world where every connection is transactional? where every ‘i love you’ comes with strings attached?”

sana’s jaw tightens, her silence an unspoken acknowledgment of the truth in mina’s words.

“they were different,” mina continues, her voice rising with desperation. “they saw me, not my name, not my title. just… me. and that terrified me. because if they left—if i ever lost them—it would destroy me.”

she presses a hand to her chest, the pain almost suffocating. “so i did what i thought i had to do. i distanced myself. i… i made a mistake, a horrible, unforgivable mistake, because i thought it would hurt less if they hated me first. but it doesn’t. it doesn’t hurt less, sana. it hurts more than i ever thought possible.”

sana looks away, her throat tight as she struggles to hold onto her anger. “you say all this now, but what about then? what about when you made that choice?”

mina bows her head, her tears falling freely. “i wasn’t thinking. i was selfish and scared and so, so stupid. i didn’t think about what it would do to them, to us. all i could think about was how much it would hurt if i let myself love them completely and they left me.”

her voice breaks, and she collapses further onto the ground, her hands gripping the wet earth. “but they didn’t leave, sana. they stayed. they gave me everything. and now… now i’ve lost the one thing that made me feel alive, and it’s my fault. it’s all my fault.”

sana’s chest tightens at the sight of mina—the composed, untouchable heiress—reduced to this trembling, broken figure. this wasn’t the mina she knew. this was someone raw and desperate, someone who had finally realized the weight of her own actions.

“you’re a mess,” sana says quietly, her voice tinged with both anger and pity. “you always thought you were untouchable, didn’t you? but look at you now. you’ve destroyed yourself for them.”

mina nods, her sobs choking her words. “i have,” she whispers. “and i’d do it a thousand times over if it meant they’d hear me, if it meant they’d give me a chance to make this right.”

sana sighs, running a hand through her hair. “you can’t just beg your way out of this, mina. they’re not some business deal you can negotiate. this is their heart, their trust. and you shattered it.”

“i know,” mina cries. “i know i can’t fix this overnight. but sana, please… tell me where they are. tell me what to do. i’ll give up everything—my name, my fortune, all of it—if it means i can have them back. i’ll spend the rest of my life proving to them that they’re my everything.”

sana’s hands clench into fists, her own emotions warring within her. “you want my advice?” she says after a long silence. “start by figuring out why you deserve a second chance. because right now, mina, i don’t think you do.”

sana stares at her for a long moment, her emotions a storm of anger, pity, and something she can’t quite place.

sana doesn’t respond immediately. she turns her head, her gaze fixed on the rain streaking down. when she speaks again, her voice is barely above a whisper.

“you’re pathetic, mina.”

mina doesn’t argue. she just kneels there, her head bowed, the weight of her guilt pressing down on her like a physical force.

“but they love you,” sana adds, almost reluctantly. “for some reason, they love you. so maybe… maybe you still have a chance.”

mina looks up at her, hope flickering in her tear-streaked eyes. “do you think so?” she whispers.

“don’t ask me,” sana says, turning away. “ask them.”

with that, sana steps back and closes the door, leaving mina alone in the rain.

mina collapses completely, her forehead pressing against the cold, wet ground. her sobs echo into the storm, a haunting sound of grief and regret. this wasn’t just about losing you—it was about losing the one chance she had at being more than the hollow shell her upbringing had created. and it was her fault. all her fault.

-----

the buzz of your phone stirred you from a restless sleep. you squinted at the clock on your nightstand—2:34 a.m.—and groaned. dragging your hand across your face, you grabbed the phone, your voice heavy with fatigue.

"who is it?"

a small, hesitant voice came through. "it's me."

you froze, the weariness in your bones suddenly eclipsed by a familiar ache. "mina?"

"yeah," she murmured, almost like she didn’t expect you to pick up. "sorry for calling so late. i know you’re... probably tired."

"what do you want?" you asked, your voice flat, as you sank back into the bed.

there was a pause, and for a moment you thought she’d hung up. then, softly, she said, "we’re going back to myoui town. it’s my mom’s birthday next week."

you rubbed your temples, exhaling slowly. "okay?"

"hiro’s been crying," she continued, her words gentle, deliberate. "he misses you, but i thought it’d be nice for him. and for my mom. she... she really missed you too, you know."

"yeah, well," you said, cutting her off, "tell her that that maybe she shouldn't."

"that’s not—," she said quickly, her voice breaking slightly. "you’ve always been good to us of course she will..." her words trailed off, and the silence that followed felt like a weight pressing down on your chest.

"why are you telling me this, mina?" you asked, shifting under the covers. "you don’t need my permission to go."

"i know," she said softly. "but i thought you’d want to know. about hiro, at least. and..." she hesitated, her voice trembling. "i just wanted to check on you."

"i’m fine," you said, though the exhaustion in your voice betrayed you.

"are you?" she asked, the regret heavy in her tone. "i know i’m the last person you want to hear from, but i worry about you. i—" she stopped, taking a shaky breath. "i can’t stop thinking about... you."

you closed your eyes, the familiar ache creeping back in. "don’t do this right now, mina."

"i’m sorry," she whispered. "i just... i wanted you to know. and i wanted to say thank you. for picking up. for still being good to hiro, even when you hate me."

you stayed quiet, too tired to argue, too drained to tell her how wrong she was. you didn’t hate her—not entirely. but you couldn’t forgive her either. not yet.

"i hope you’re okay," she said after a moment, her voice so small it made your chest tighten. "i hope... one day, we’ll be okay."

"i—" the words caught in your throat, and you clenched your jaw, swallowing hard. you didn’t know what you wanted to say, or if you even had the right to say anything at all.

you can hear hiro’s laughter echo faintly through the phone, and you closed your eyes, the sound twisting the knife deeper. you could picture him there, carefree and happy, unaware of the mess surrounding him.

"take care of him," you said finally, your voice strained. "just... make sure he’s okay."

"i always do," mina replied, and there was a weight to her words that made you ache even more.

the line went quiet after that, neither of you willing to hang up but both too drained to say anything else. eventually, you ended the call, dropping the phone onto the other side of the bed and burying your face in your pillow.

the thought of them leaving—of her leaving—was a sharp reminder of just how much had slipped through your fingers. and yet, all you could do was sit there, alone in the darkness, trying to convince yourself that it didn’t matter.

but it did. fuck, it did.

-----

mina adjusted hiro’s jacket for the third time, her fingers tugging gently at the fabric to make sure it fit snugly against the chill in the air. the little boy was more interested in the blossoms overhead, his tiny hands reaching skyward as they walked through the old town.

“you like that, hm?” she murmured, her voice soft, almost lost in the gentle breeze. hiro giggled in response, his face lighting up with pure delight.

she smiled, despite herself.

it was quieter here than in the city, the hum of life replaced with the rustle of leaves and the faint sound of a bell in the distance. her parents had always said this place felt timeless, and for the first time, mina felt it too.

but that weight in her chest—the one that had settled there ever since you’d stopped coming home—it hadn’t eased.

hiro babbled something incoherent, his chubby little hand pointing toward a cluster of vibrant pink blossoms hanging low on a branch. mina crouched down, lifting him in her arms to bring him closer.

“careful,” she said, her tone laced with a tenderness that had become second nature with him. he grabbed at a petal, his grip clumsy but enthusiastic.

she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket but ignored it for now. instead, she reached for the camera app, snapping a picture of hiro against the backdrop of the blossoms.

he looked so much like you in moments like this.

her heart clenched as she stared at the screen.

after a moment’s hesitation, she opened your chat. the thread was mostly one-sided these days—updates on hiro, little notes about his milestones, reminders that she was trying.

trying to keep you tethered. trying to remind you there was still a place for you here.

she attached the photo and typed:

“hiro loves the blossoms. he’s so curious about everything here. thought you’d want to see this.”

her thumb hovered over the send button. for a split second, she thought about deleting it. but she hit send before she could think too hard.

hiro wriggled in her arms, and she adjusted her grip, letting him rest his head against her shoulder. she started walking again, her heels clicking softly against the cobblestone path.

her phone buzzed, and she fumbled to unlock it, her breath hitching when she saw your reply.

“looks good. bet hiro’s loving it. you look…”

her heart skipped, her thumb scrolling slowly.

“miss you.”

she froze.

the words blurred slightly as her eyes filled with an emotion she didn’t want to name.

you miss me? after everything? after i broke us?

hiro babbled again, drawing her out of her spiraling thoughts. she kissed the top of his head, her lips brushing against his soft hair.

with trembling fingers, she replied:

“we miss you too.”

it felt like a small step.

a tentative bridge.

her chest ached as she added another message:

“mom’s birthday is soon. she’s been asking about you.”

she slipped her phone back into her pocket, her gaze lifting to the blossoms again. they were beautiful, fleeting.

please come back to us, she thought, her arms tightening protectively around hiro.

as they reached the edge of the path, she glanced at her phone once more, hoping, praying.

when your reply came, she exhaled shakily.

heavily disappointed she let herself move slowly glancing at hiro sadly while pointing at some falling leaves seeing hiro babble excitedly made her heart clench and she let herself drown in her thoughts.

-----

you sit at your desk, fingers aimlessly scrolling through the same set of documents you’ve been staring at for hours. the work isn’t hard, but the focus? yeah, that’s another story.

your eyes flicker to the family photo on the corner of your desk. it’s the one mina insisted on framing—a candid shot of the three of you during a rare moment of peace. hiro’s baby grin, your awkward smile, mina’s soft, rare laugh.

your chest tightens.

a soft buzz on your phone pulls your attention. it’s a picture from mina: her holding hiro in her arms, standing against a backdrop of vibrant cherry blossoms. hiro’s chubby little hand is reaching for a petal, his face lit up with curiosity. she’s smiling—soft, maternal, and glowing.

"hiro loves the blossoms. he’s so curious about everything here. thought you’d want to see this."

you stare at the screen longer than you mean to. a knot of emotions you don’t quite know how to unravel builds in your chest—annoyance, longing, maybe even something bordering on desperation.

you set the phone down, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. maybe it’s the way she looks so damn serene in that picture, like she hasn’t turned your world upside down a hundred times over.

or maybe it’s because it’s been too long. too long since you’ve felt her touch, heard her laugh, even fought with her properly.

before you realize it, your thumbs are moving.

“looks good. bet hiro’s loving it. you look…” you hesitate, then type, “beautiful.”

a pause. delete. rewrite.

“miss you.”

short, simple, but it feels like ripping your chest open. you hit send before you can second-guess it.

and the second it’s gone, you’re frozen.

what the hell did you just do?

you stare at your phone like it’s going to explode, the words glaring back at you as if mocking your moment of vulnerability. for a split second, you think about chucking the damn thing across the room, but then—what if she replies?

your hands are clammy, your heart’s racing, and suddenly your office feels ten degrees hotter. you pace back and forth, running a hand through your hair like it’s going to do anything to untangle the mess you’ve made in your head.

“what is wrong with me?” you mutter under your breath. “am i drunk? i’m at work! i haven’t even had a drink!”

you stop mid-step, gripping the back of your chair like it’s the only thing keeping you upright. your mind replays the text over and over, each loop digging deeper into your pride. miss you.

the audacity. the weakness.

you glance at the framed photo on your desk—the one of mina holding hiro on her hip, the both of them laughing under the sunlight. your chest tightens, and you groan, dragging your hands down your face.

“this is so stupid,” you hiss to no one in particular. “she’s probably laughing right now. probably showing her mom, ‘look at this idiot, still hung up on me.’”

but even as you say it, you know it’s not true. mina’s not like that. or, at least, she wasn’t.

you sit down heavily in your chair, glaring at your phone like it’s personally betrayed you.

god, why did i have to send that? why couldn’t i just say… nice blossoms? or cute kid? or nothing at all?

your phone buzzes, and you nearly fall out of your chair scrambling to grab it.

the notification lights up the screen:

“we miss you too.”

your breath catches.

it’s not much. not an apology, not an explanation, not even a promise. but it’s enough to make your shoulders sag, the knot in your chest loosening just a little.

you sit there for a moment, just staring at the message, letting it sink in.

and then another message pops up.

“mom’s birthday is soon. she’s been asking about you.”

you blink, reading it twice, three times, like the words are in a language you’re still trying to learn.

your thumb hovers over the keyboard.

“tell her advance happy birthday;”

you hit send, and this time, there’s no panic.

no pacing, no muttering, no spiraling.

just… quiet.

you sit back, exhaling slowly, staring at the photo again. maybe you’re weak for her. maybe you always will be.

you set the phone down and stare at the photo again. your thumb rubs over the edge of the frame absentmindedly.

you’d go.

maybe it’s for hiro. maybe it’s for mina. maybe, just maybe, it’s for yourself.

-----

the traditional myoui family estate in japan was alive with celebration, the grand hall filled with the soft clinking of glasses and the hum of polite laughter. mina stood near the entrance, perfectly poised as always, though her hands fidgeted slightly—a rare display of unease for someone so collected.

her mother’s sharp voice broke through her thoughts. “mina, where is your spouse? it’s my birthday, and yet they’re nowhere to be found.”

mina straightened her posture, masking her discomfort. “they’re busy with work,” she began, her tone measured but unconvincing. “something urgent came up—”

“work?” mrs. myoui interrupted, her lips pressing into a thin line. “on a day like this? unacceptable. i don’t understand? do they think work is more important than my birthday?"

before mina could stammer out another excuse, the double doors to the hall swung open, stealing everyone’s attention.

“apologies for the delay,” you announced, stepping in with a confident stride. a bouquet of lavish flowers in one hand and a beautifully wrapped gift box in the other, your presence immediately commanded the room.

mina’s breath caught, her carefully composed facade momentarily cracking.

“fashionably late as always,” mrs. myoui said, her disapproving tone softened by the glint of amusement in her eyes.

you bowed politely, offering the flowers to her. “only for the most important occasions, mrs. myoui. i hope these can make up for my tardiness.”

she chuckled, accepting the gifts. “you always know how to charm your way out of trouble.”

“it’s a skill i’ve perfected,” you quipped, your voice light. but as your gaze shifted to mina, the warmth in your tone faded, replaced by a distant professionalism. “myoui mina,” you greeted curtly, with a nod that felt colder than the winter breeze.

mina’s jaw tightened, but she forced a smile. “thank you for coming,” she said softly, her voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

you didn’t respond, turning back to her mother instead. “it’s an honor to celebrate such a special day with your family.”

as the evening wore on, you maintained a polite but distant demeanor, mingling with the guests and exchanging pleasantries. mina, meanwhile, found her attempts to approach you rebuffed at every turn. when she brushed her hand against yours while passing, you didn’t react. when she tried to make small talk about hiro, your answers were clipped and polite, but devoid of warmth.

from across the room, she watched as you charmed her family and the guests, her chest tightening with a mix of regret and longing. every time you glanced her way, it was with a composed indifference that stung more than outright hostility.

it wasn’t until later in the evening, as the festivities quieted down, that mina found herself standing alone near the balcony. she turned when she sensed you approaching, her heart leaping for a brief moment. but your focus wasn’t on her—it was on hiro, who was being carried by one of the family attendants.

you reached out, taking hiro into your arms with practiced ease. “hey, buddy,” you murmured, your voice softening as you cradled him close. mina watched, her throat tightening as she took in the sight of you and hiro together.

when your eyes finally met hers, there was a flicker of something—an unspoken tension, a shared history that neither of you could escape. but just as quickly, you turned your attention back to hiro.

as the evening progressed, the guests began to drift toward the dining hall, leaving mina and you momentarily alone on the balcony. the cool night air brushed against her skin, but it wasn’t the chill that made her shiver—it was the frigid distance you’d placed between the two of you all evening.

“you’re good with him,” mina said quietly, nodding toward hiro nestled in your arms, his tiny fingers clutching at your shirt as he drifted off to sleep.

you didn’t look at her. instead, you kept your gaze on hiro, gently adjusting the blanket around him. “he’s my son. it’s not exactly a choice.”

the words landed like a slap, and mina’s breath hitched. she took a step closer, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her dress. “i didn’t mean it like that,” she said softly. “i just… i wanted to thank you for coming. it means a lot to my family.”

finally, you turned to face her, your expression unreadable but your eyes sharp. “i didn’t come for your family, mina. i came for hiro. let’s not pretend otherwise.”

but it feels like a blatant lie with the way your jaw clenched almost disgusted at yourself for feeding yourself lies.

her composure faltered, and she bit her lip, her gaze dropping to the ground. “i know i’ve hurt you,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “but i’m trying—”

“trying to what?” you interrupted, your tone cutting but quiet enough not to wake hiro. “fix what you broke? erase what happened? you think showing up with a smile and a few kind words will make everything better?”

she flinched, visibly shrinking under the weight of your words. “i’m not asking you to forgive me overnight,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “but i miss you. i miss us. and i’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.”

you scoffed, shaking your head. “missing someone doesn’t mean much when you’ve already proven how little you cared when it mattered.”

her eyes glistened, and for a moment, she looked utterly vulnerable—a stark contrast to the poised heiress the world knew her as. “that’s not true,” she said, her voice breaking. “you have no idea how much i—”

“don’t,” you said firmly, cutting her off. “don’t stand here and tell me how much you cared while i was the only one crying trying to pick up pieces of myself.”

mina’s hands clenched into fists at her sides, her eyes pleading as she stepped closer. “please,” she said, her voice cracking. “that's not— i've also—"

“good night, mina,” you said curtly, brushing past her as you carried hiro inside.

she stayed on the balcony, frozen in place, the weight of your words crushing her. she blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill, but it was no use.

as the door clicked shut behind you, mina sank onto the balcony railing, the sound of the distant laughter and celebration inside only amplifying the silence that now surrounded her. she had always been so sure of herself, so in control—but tonight, she felt small, powerless, and utterly lost.

-----

the quiet streets of the traditional japanese town were bathed in soft moonlight, the air carrying the faint scent of blooming wisteria. myoui mina sat on the edge of a wooden bridge, a bottle of sake beside her, her poised demeanor long abandoned. she was disheveled, her elegant blouse slightly wrinkled, her usually sharp eyes glassy and red-rimmed.

in her hand, she held a small daisy, its delicate petals trembling between her fingers.

"they like me," she murmured, plucking a petal and letting it drift down into the stream below. her voice was tinged with mockery, a hollow laugh escaping her lips.

"they like me not." she tore the next petal with more force, the bitterness in her tone cutting through the stillness of the night.

hidden just beyond the bridge, you leaned against the corner of a nearby building, out of sight but close enough to hear every word. you’d stumbled upon her by accident during your aimless walk— aimless? or did you just see her leave the residence and was worried? no— it doesn't matter. you couldn’t bring yourself to leave.

mina continued her ritual, her voice growing quieter with each petal. "they like me… they like me not…" her hands trembled, and her lips pressed into a thin line as she fought back the tears threatening to spill.

when she reached the final petal, she stared at it for a long moment.

"they like me," she whispered, her voice cracking. she gave a bitter, humorless laugh, tossing the petal into the water. "as if. they don’t even look at me anymore."

her laughter died, replaced by a shaky breath. "i don’t like them either," she muttered, the lie barely holding together. "i hate them."

she froze, the words hanging in the air like a broken promise. then, as if something deep inside her had shattered, her shoulders began to shake.

"i don't like them," she repeated, her voice breaking completely. "i love them. i love them so much."

her head dropped into her hands, and she began to sob openly, her elegant facade crumbling like a fragile mask. "i love them," she choked out, the admission spilling from her lips like a dam bursting. "and they hate me. they hate me, and i deserve it."

your heart ached at the sight of her, the woman who once seemed untouchable now falling apart before your eyes. you wanted to step forward, to say something, but your feet remained rooted to the ground.

mina’s sobs echoed in the quiet night, her vulnerability cutting through you in a way you hadn’t expected. but instead of approaching, you turned away, your chest tight with an unspoken heaviness.

you walked away slowly, your steps careful and silent, leaving her alone on the bridge. the image of her broken figure stayed with you, etched into your mind, and as much as you tried to push it aside, it lingered, a painful reminder of everything unresolved.

behind you, mina remained on the bridge, her cries fading into the stillness of the night, unaware that you had been there all along.

-----

the morning sun painted the myoui estate in warm hues, the tranquility of the traditional japanese town a stark contrast to the tension simmering beneath the surface. you wandered the garden aimlessly, still dressed in your rumpled pajamas, the cool breeze doing little to shake off your lingering exhaustion.

the faint sound of footsteps made you glance up, and there she was—myoui mina, beautiful as ever despite the shadows of sleeplessness beneath her eyes. her gaze locked onto yours, determined, though something fragile lingered behind it.

"we need to talk," she began, her voice even but strained.

you sighed, dragging a hand through your hair. "about what, mina? i don’t have the energy for this."

"we have an interview this afternoon," she said, stepping closer.

that caught you off guard. "an interview? for what? we’re not doing any gala or charity event."

"it’s about us," mina clarified, her words deliberate. "our marriage. how we fell in love."

your brow furrowed, and a humorless laugh escaped your lips. "are you kidding me? mina, we don’t need to answer any of that. it’s useless."

mina squared her shoulders, her voice gaining an edge. "it’s not useless. it’s about keeping your dignity. your name. your reputation."

you stared at her, incredulous. "my dignity?" you snapped, the fatigue giving way to anger. "you want me to sit there and talk about a marriage that doesn’t even exist? why don’t you do it, mina? you’re good at putting on a show."

her expression faltered, but she held her ground. "how can i?" she asked, her voice cracking despite her effort to keep it steady. "it’s for couples. they’ll know something’s wrong if you’re not there."

your frustration boiled over, your voice rising. "then tell them we’re fine! tell them we’re doing great, that we’re more in love than ever!" you stepped closer, your words sharp and cutting. "Lie, mina. You’re good at that too, aren’t you?"

her breath hitched, but she didn’t respond, her eyes searching yours desperately.

you took a step back, shaking your head.

"you’re my wife on paper, mina. not my responsibility."

the words hung in the air like a slap, the finality of them echoing between you. mina stood frozen, her composure cracking.

you didn’t wait for her reply—not that she had one. and as you walked away, the ache in your chest twisted, sharper than ever, because deep down, you knew:

it wasn’t her who had lost everything. it was you.

-----

end of part five.

a/n — i'm so sorry for this shitty chapter bruv it's my birthday and it's like 1:43AM, i've been drinking and i have a throbbing headache. I decided to rush this so i apologize deeply for any wrong doing because frankly i don't even remember what i wrote.

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

PLEASE WRITE THAT ONE SHOT FULL PERMISSION GRANTED

— @girlishwhimsies

TYSM @girlishwhimsies for the prompt this was SO fun to write!! fic under the cut!!!

Ponyboy has no idea how long he's been sittin' in front of the TV. Too long, Pony's sure Darry would think. But it doesn't matter because Darry's workin' a late shift and it's just Two-Bit who's watchin' the box with the same intent, vacant look. Hell, even Soda's curled up in a blanket creamin' Dallas in a game of poker 'n absently watchin' when Dallas spends too long scowlin' at his hand.

(Pony can see clearly he hasn't got shit and he only tears his eyes away every few minutes to shake his head at Soda that Dally is bluffin' harder then Pony claimin' he ain't got homework. Dallas hasn't noticed yet.)

When Pony hears Darry's truck pull up in the driveway he gets the sudden, violent feelin' that he's forgotten somethin'. Somethin' important. He furrows his eyebrows, looks over into the kitchen. Oh shit.

His heart climbs right up into his throat, does a flip, and dives all the way down to his toes. Oh shit, oh shit. Pony is on his feet in a millisecond, jarrin' Dallas as he confidently bets on a hand of shit.

"Look out, Pony's off to the races!" Two howls but pulls his feet up as Pony jumps straight over them. He's not payin' attention to anythin' but gettin' into that kitchen before Darry does. As he passes the door he flips the lock, wrestin' with it when it doesn't go smoothly. Damn Darry 'n his insistence on never lockin' the thing.

"Pony?" Soda half rises, startin' after Pony as he ducks his entire head 'n shoulders into the icebox. "Everythin'-" He cuts himself off when Pony reemerges with the frozen solid chicken they were meant to be eatin' for dinner in forty-five minutes. For a moment, they both just stare at each other, Pony in horror, Soda in amusement.

Then Dallas lets out a long, low whistle as the truck door slams and grins that smile that shows off his silver fang. "Oh, you're capital F fucked." Then Soda cackles so hard he plops back onto the floor.

"Don't laugh." And Pony would normally kick his ass for that but right now he's too worried about the imminent threat of bein' hung up by his thumbs or locked in the shed until he's thirty. "Soda get over here. How do I thaw it out?" And he's got that whine crawlin' into his voice he hates but there are simply bigger fish to fry. Or birds to thaw.

Soda slides across the floor in his socks, ditchin' the blanket 'n throwin' it over Dallas. He rips it off 'n tries to whap Soda with it as he goes by, missin' to Two's great delight.

"I dunno, Ponykid, blow on it?" Soda leans down 'n huffs hot air onto it. Pony throws his head back 'n doesn't even care about the whine that peels out of his throat. He's dead. Darry was gonna kill him.

"Blow on it? Soda that ain't gonna work!" Pony rips the chicken away from where Soda is still puffin' at it. The door knob rattles 'n they can all distinctively hear the aggravated sigh from Darry even through the wall. Bad sign.

"Wait, I have an idea!" Soda snatches the bird back, slips 'n slides his way back into the living room with Pony hustlin' behind him. "Two, get up." Two-Bit takes in Soda holdin' the raw meat by the plastic-wrapped leg like a fish and Pony's face like a man at the gallows.

"Boys, unlock this damn door!" Darry already sounds irate.

"Yeah, Dallas go let Darry in." Soda pipes and Pony whips around wavin' a hand at his throat and frantically shakin' his head. Dallas shoots him a shit-eatin' grin again and gets to his feet, pointing towards the door.

Pony does the only thing he can think of 'n jumps on him.

"Wait, is that-" Two leans away from Soda, who waves the chicken around again 'n makes a face.

"No, it's Darry's million-dollar check yes it's dinner. Now get your ass up!" Pony abandons Dallas, grabs Two by the wrist, desperately tryin' to haul him up. Dallas instantly gets back on his feet and goes for the door again. Pony chooses between the imminent of two threats and goes for Dally again.

"What the hell do you want me to do about it?" Soda takes up Pony's spot wrestlin' Two-Bit up. Soda is far more successful.

"Sit on it!" Soda drags Two up, throwin' the bird down 'n then pressin' on his shoulders to try to get him back into the couch on top of it.

"Oh, I see. You only want me for my hot ass, you dog!" Two arches up so his back is against the sofa but his backside is nowhere near. "I'm not lettin' you throw me under the bus for this!"

"We're not throwin' you under the bus- we're throwin' you onto the bird!" And Two snickers, thrown off his task of keepin' his ass off the couch. Soda tosses himself full force onto Two's lap, bucklin' him back down.

Dallas wrangles Pony off, finally, and throws the lock on the door. Darry scowls, knocks Dallas' gently up the head since he has the misfortune of bein' the one closest to him. Dallas opens his mouth to bitch but Darry shoots him a look and he settles for mutterin' under his breath.

"Now, what the hell is goin' on here?" He drops his keys on the table 'n takes in Pony sprawled on the floor, Soda across Two and Two still wrigglin' for all he's worth against the cold.

"Nothin'." Both Soda 'n Pony say in unison. Darry looks between the two of them once, twice.

"I don't think I have the energy for whatever the hell you four have goin' on so I'm gonna go fix dinner 'n y'all better be back to sorts by the time I'm done." Darry kicks off his boots 'n places them neatly at the door, disappearin' into the kitchen.

"Uh, Darry? About that-"

"Ye- ouch!" Two manages to roll Soda straight onto the floor, shootin' to his feet. When he turns around, his lower back is pink from bein' in contact with the freezin' chicken. "That shit is cold!"

Darry stops, turns back around, blinks once, twice, opens his mouth, shuts it, tries again. "Pony, is that the chicken I told you to thaw when you got back from school?"

"Uh, would you believe me if I said no?" Darry rubs a hand across his temple, looks at the chicken on the couch with bewilderment. For a moment Pony swears they're all holdin' their breath. Then he laughs. Head back, hand grippin' the doorway laughs.

"Goddamn, Pony, what am I gonna do with you?" He grabs Pony by the front of the shirt, ruffles his hair, drops a kiss to a temple. "Kid, did you try to thaw that shit out by puttin' it under your brother?" Pony pouts a little and shakes his head like he can't believe Darry would have thought somethin' like that of him.

"No, Soda tried to thaw it out by puttin' it under him." Darry howls again, grabs his side and then Soda, pullin' him in 'n givin' him the same kiss.

"You boys are gonna be the death of me." He shoots Dallas a grin 'n Two tries to look put out, rubbin' the cold spot on his back still, but he can't make it stick and he ends up smilin' too.

"C'mon Darry, you know you love us." Two sidles up beside Soda, tryin' to nudge him out of Darry's arms. Darry releases Pony solely to cuff Two up the side of his head but pulls him in, too. He squeezes Dallas' shoulder and he stops scowlin' 'n grins.

"Well, I don't think anyone's eatin' chicken tonight." Darry laughs and returns to the door, snappin' his keys off the table. "Who wants to go out for Dairy Queen, instead?" They all hoot 'n holler, even Dallas. Soda even turns a cartwheel right there in the middle of the living room and Darrys in such a good mood he doesn't even tell him off for it.

"And I'll tell you what, y'all can even get milkshakes. Dinner's on Pony!" Pony's jaw drops open 'n Two grabs Soda 'n they both make a break for the truck. Gleefully yippin' about orderin' half the menu. Dallas howls 'n follows them out, pullin' Soda straight out of the air when he goes for shotgun.

"Aw, c'mon Darry-" Darry ruffles his hair and chuckles.

"I'm kiddin', kiddo." Pony will swear he never feels relief like he does in that moment ever again. "Just promise me next time, remember to take the chicken out of the fridge, yeah?"

[duckprintspress]

This Weekend: The Indie Book and Comic Expo at The Shirt Factory!

Black Walnut Books, the awesome indigenous-owned bookstore focused on queer books and books by authors of color, and Beldame Books, a bookshop focused on comics and speculative fiction, are hosting the Indie Book and Comic Expo this weekend at The Shirt Factory in Glens Falls!

More than 30 authors, comic creators, and artists will be in attendance, with lots of vendors and such from the area – Duck Prints Press included! Many of the shops at The Shirt Factory will also be open, and there’ll be a couple food trucks outside, too. This is a great opportunity to meet local authors and browse lots of books – I know I’m excited to attend as a vendor, and I hope to see many of you there!

Come join us on Saturday, September 28 from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. at The Shirt Factory – 71 Lawrence St., Glens Falls!

[thegetdownrebooter]

i'm sorry but mencken dumping roman for crying at his father's funeral is funny af.

[pancake-loving-pandemi]

MY LAUGHTER OUGHT TO BE CRIMINAL

whyyyyyy

[cryolyst]

~

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Giving the nerd a chance

tags: nerd!nanami/fem!reader, college!au, stsg, nsfw, dirty talk, asphyxiation, size kink, mdni!!

a/n: this one’s a long one :) pace yourself and enjoy!

Kento Nanami is a social enigma. He is a total outlier but in the weirdest way possible.

This man is conventionally attractive. Some would even go as far to say Nanami’s handsome, almost in a filthy way. His looks are sneaky too. He’s not someone you’d immediately notice in a room, but once you did…

You would notice his sculpted jaw line first. Then, his naturally high cheekbones that gave way to his soft hazel eyes. He had a serious look on his face always, but his eyes told a different story. Maybe you’d notice his blonde hair that sat neatly on his head, styled with an undercut. Yeah, Nanami was fucking hot.

But that’s not the weird part. No, you haven’t heard him utter a single word except to answer the professor’s unanswered questions once the silence was unbearable.

That’s not exactly weird either. There are tons of people who go through college without the intention of making friends… but Nanami has friends. He doesn’t just have like one friend. No, he’s apart of a friend group.

The weirdest part was he seemed to be close with the most popular guy in your university, star quarterback Satoru Gojo. Gojo was seemingly every college girl’s wet dream. He’s the type to stand out in a room. His looks and personality demand attention.

He’s the complete opposite from Nanami.

Then, there was Suguru Geto… Geto was also a strange friend for Nanami to have. Geto was smart, funny, and well-mannered… when he was in class. But you’ve seen how Geto acts at parties. He smokes cigarettes, shotguns whiskey, and keeps up with all of Gojo’s antics. Shoko was the exact same way, except she didn’t care enough to keep up with Gojo’s buffoonery.

They were the complete opposite from Nanami as well.

Yu Haibara was a cutie patootie. He’s also a sweet social butterfly. Another one of Nanami’s friends that just didn’t seem to be his type.

You caught yourself staring at the friend group as you’re sitting on a couch at a frat house. Your college team just won the game, so Satoru had invited a whole slew of people over. You somehow made it on that list. Your friend, Utahime, is begging you to leave, but something is telling you to stay.

“Go on without me, Uta. I’ll be fine, promise.” You say over the music as you flash her a small smile to assure her.

“I really, really, really don’t want to leave you here alone, yn. I don’t want you to end up on the front page of the news.”

“Don’t wish that shit upon me.” You laugh as you gently nudge her arm, urging her towards the door.

“I’m serious, yn. Please text me. If you’re not back in the dorm by midnight, I’m calling the cops.” She says as she grabs your shoulders, forcing you to face her directly.

You admire your friend’s caring demeanor, but she was being a total cock block for you right now.

“I will text you. I promise.” You assure her once again. “Go back to the dorm. Love you.”

She sighs deeply as she lets you go. She’s still not comfortable with the idea of leaving you here, but she can’t force you to leave. “Love you too. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Oh, that’s all I’m gonna do.” You smirk as she flips you off and leaves the frat house.

You take a drink from your red solo cup to gather your nerves. Nanami has been sitting in the corner of the kitchen all night. He’s alone, but he doesn’t look lonely. Sometimes, Satoru will drunkenly slouch his weight onto the blonde and slur something inaudible to him. From what you can see, Nanami just rolls his eyes and shrugs his friend off his shoulders.

You want to approach him, but you’re still too afraid he won’t talk to you. As you sit down your cup, an intoxicated Satoru is standing over you.

“I’m sorry- I don’t remember your name.” He gives you a slanted smile as he crouches down a bit so you two are face-to-face.

“That’s okay. I don’t remember yours either.” You snip back with a small grin. Something sparkles in his eyes as you give him a little bit of a challenge. He finds it to be endearing.

“Cheeky. Give me your number.” He demands, keeping his smirk on his face.

“Why should I give it to you?”

“Because it’s not for me.” He slurs as he leans in close to you. He nods his head towards the kitchen. “I’m doing this for my pussy friend over there.”

Your eyes dart towards Nanami. His eyes are glaring holes into Satoru with more anger and emotion than you’ve ever seen from him. Your stomach swirls with butterflies.

“That is a really good reason.” You murmur as you quickly type your number into Satoru’s phone.

*** *** ***

It had been days since the frat party and not a single word from Nanami. Your excitement had honestly fizzled out into sulking. Were you not good enough for him? Did Satoru lie? Was it all a sick prank?

Not even Utahime could get you in a good mood.

“Yn. This is so ridiculous. If you like him that much, just go up and talk to him.” She chides

“Noooo.” You groan into your pillow as you turn onto your stomach in your bed. “He’s too cool. Out of my league.”

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same Kento Nanami? The nerd who barely ever talks? The know-it-all in class?”

“Utahimeee.”

“You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“Let me wallow in my self pity.” You gripe before you hear your phone buzz. The sound of your phone notifying you doesn’t even excite you anymore. It’s always some lame ass notification.

Unknown Number: Is this yn?

Your eyes widen as you stare at your phone in disbelief. Your body involuntarily sits up in bed, startling Utahime.

“Jesus Christ. What? What happened?”

“He texted me!” You beam proudly. You are embarrassing. Utahime scoffs and walks away from you, unable to take the second-hand embarrassment.

Yn: Yeah, that’s me :)

Unknown Number: This is Kento Nanami. I’m sorry Gojo felt the need to disturb you at the party. 

Yn: No need! He didn’t disturb me too much.

Nanami: That’s good to hear.

God. Now, what do you say? Of course Nanami is a dry texter. You stare at the text conversation for a while, trying to think of something.. anything to break the ice.

Yn: Did you ask him to get my number, or did he do that on his own volition?

Nanami: Gojo does things on his own volition.

Yn: Ah.. I see.

He left you on read.

Goddammit.

You had your chance, and now, you blew it. Sighing, you lock your phone and try to forget he even ever texted you in the first place.

*** *** ***

I mean, who even needs Nanami? He’s really not even that handsome or mysterious. You keep telling yourself as you get ready to go to another party Gojo invited you too.

Oh, also, Gojo kept your number for himself as well. He mostly asked to copy your notes when Nanami refused to let him copy his notes. He would also send the occasional invitation to one of his signature parties.

This one was apparently labeled as “exclusive”. You had no idea what that meant, but you weren’t allowed to bring a plus-one this time.

Luckily for you, Utahime was visiting back home for the weekend, so she couldn’t scold you for going out to another party this weekend.

Black eyeliner was smeared across your waterline, and you puckered your lips as you carefully applied some sheer gloss. You decided to be casual with your outfit, wearing a basic off-shoulder black top with some jeans.

As soon as you got to the frat house, you quickly understood what “exclusive” meant. It was only their closest friends in the house. Satoru and Haibara were on the couch, lounging. Suguru and Shoko were sitting by the window, sharing a cigarette. Nanami was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, looking as stoic as ever. Immediately, you were grateful for going with a more casual look.

“Yn! So glad you made it!” Satoru grinned in a more sober voice than the last time you spoke with him.

“Am I imposing on something?” You ask as you close the door.

“Of course not, silly. I sent you an invite for a reason.” Satoru says casually as he pats the spot between him and Haibara on the couch. “Come have a seat. Get comfortable. We’re just hanging out tonight.”

You stare at the seat between Gojo and Haibara, and you decide to sit in the open chair next to them instead.

“Afraid that we might bite?” Gojo grins as he leans over the arm of the chair towards you.

“Stop it, Satoru. You’re going to scare her away.” Shoko scolds before taking a drag off her cigarette.

Your phone gently buzzes in your pocket as Satoru and Shoko begin to bicker about his social skills. You sneakily check your phone.

Nanami: You look pretty tonight.

OH. We are so back, baby.

Yn: Thank you :) You look as handsome as ever.

Nanami: Oh yeah?

It is so small and insignificant, but that little “oh yeah?” makes your stomach flutter with excitement.

“Yn?” You snap your attention up to Shoko and realize she has been trying to talk to you.

“Shit- sorry. What’s up?”

Your phone lightly buzzes again, and you quickly glance down to check.

Nanami: You’re blushing.

“I was asking what your major is.” Shoko smiles calmly as she’s sat upon the windowsill. She flicks her cigarette outside before blowing out a cloud of smoke. You try to ignore how your heart is skipping beats right now.

“Oh, I’m just in general studies right now. I’m kind of indecisive. What about you?”

“I’m pre-med right now.” Shoko answers.

“I thought you swapped to nursing.” Haibara asks as he shifts his body to face her. The two start conversing together, giving you a chance to check your phone.

Nanami: Are you ill, or do my words just affect you that much?

Yn: I’m actually ill.

Nanami: You’re also apparently a liar, sweetheart.

How the fuck was this man so bold over text, but wouldn’t speak to hardly anyone in person?

Yn: Sweetheart? I didn’t know we were on that sort of level yet.

Nanami: Does that make you uncomfortable?

Yn: No

Nanami: Good. Then don’t complain.

The throb your cunt just did should’ve been illegal. There was no reason for you to be so turned on by that, but you were.

Yn: What would you have done had I said that it did make me uncomfortable?

Nanami: I would’ve found you a nickname you were more comfortable with.

He was being sweet, and you were over there clenching around nothing like a whore.

You had been so caught up in your phone that you didn’t realize Yu had went and gotten everyone a beer out of the fridge. You decide to risk a glance at Nanami. He looked calm and composed. You wondered if he even knew the effect he had on you truly.

“Shoko, when are you finally going to get some bitches?” Satoru asks with a laugh. Your eyes widen as you notice Suguru is on his lap now. You had really been so distracted by your phone…

“At this rate, I think Nanami will beat me.” Shoko laughed as she took a drink of her beer. You shift slightly in your seat as Shoko cuts her eyes towards you with a small grin.

Nanami: I will

Yn: Will what?

Nanami: I will beat her.

Yn: Confident or competitive?

Nanami: Both.

Yn: You didn’t strike me as the type.

Nanami: You don’t think I can do it?

Yn: I never said that.

Nanami lays his phone on his lap, and you can feel his eyes trailing up and down your body. Feeling your heart skip a beat, you decide to look up at him. Your breath hitches in your throat as you glance over him. He looks relaxed. His head is propped up in his hand, and he’s almost giving you a lazy smile.

Knowing more about Nanami, you recognize it as a cocky smile now.

The rest of the “party” goes without a hitch. You decided it was time to leave once Suguru and Satoru were obnoxiously making out, Shoko was asleep on the floor, and Haibara wouldn’t shut the fuck up about the intricacies of anime.

“I’m gonna head back to my dorm now. Thanks for inviting me.” You say quickly as you stand from your seat.

“Hey yn-!” Satoru says as he tugs from Suguru’s lips. The dark-haired male made quick work of moving down to his neck. “Thanks for coming. You should come out here more often.”

“Oh um, I’ll think about it.” You smile politely as you head out the front door. The cold night air nips at your skin. The only light was from the moon high up in the sky. The dorms were a few blocks away.

You never like walking alone at night, but you try to remember that college campuses have security patrolling at all times. Taking a deep shaky breath, you step off the porch.

The sound of the door closing again immediately startles you. You quickly flinch and look towards the frat house. Nanami was calming walking up to you.

“Let me walk you back.” His voice was calm and steady, just like his presence. He really wasn’t phased at all by your subtle flirting earlier?

“Thanks.. I was actually kinda scared.” You mumble as you two walk side by side on the pavement. Your arms hug your body, trying to hide from the snippy air.

“Why didn’t you ask one of us to walk you home then?” Nanami asks as he slips his coat off from his shoulders. He then loosely drapes it over your shoulders. You feel your heart skip a beat as you mumble a quick thanks. Your body snuggled into his coat as it swallowed your frame whole. It was the first time you realized… Nanami is a big man. He’s not just some scrawny nerd. He’s actually pretty well built.

“I didn’t want to be a bother.” You answer quietly, noticing how Nanami shoves his hands into his pockets while you two walk.

“That’s foolish. We invited you. The least we could do is make sure you make it home safely.”

“We?”

Nanami goes silent, and he looks away from your shorter self. The wind blows harshly, making the leaves crinkle and hiss on the trees.

“Yes, we.” He finally answers your question. You smile softly as you look down towards the ground. It seems like Satoru wasn’t the only one who wanted you around.

Standing in front of your dorm door, you slowly slip the coat off from around your shoulders and try to hand it back to him. “I don’t want it.” He answers calmly, making no effort to take the jacket back from you.

“It’s yours, silly.”

“And?”

“Take it.” You gestured the coat to him once more

“No, I want you to have it.” He says as he towers over you. You subconsciously take a step back to create space, and your back hits the door. He leans over you, having to angle his back to see eye-to-eye with you. You can feel his warm breath ghosting over your cheek as he cocks his head towards your ear and neck. “Text me.” He murmurs lowly before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

You were left against your door blushing madly as he casually sauntered away.

*** *** ***

You almost think you dreamt that kiss up come Monday morning. You hadn’t texted him all weekend, not even knowing what to say. You felt scared about messing things up and taking his advances the wrong way. He hadn’t reached out to you either.

You were sitting in Neurology, half-ass paying attention as the professor lectured about neuron pruning. Nanami sat a few rows over. He always appeared to he intently listening when you glance over at him. You perk up as you feel your phone buzz on your thigh.

Nanami: You’re not going to do well if you don’t pay attention.

Yn: I could say the same for you.

Nanami: Could you?

Yn: …. point taken

Nanami: You know, you could’ve at least texted me if you didn’t like the kiss.

Yn: Who said I didn’t?

Nanami: So, you disobey my request for fun?

Yn: Disobey is such a strong word. You told me to text you, and I just.. haven’t yet.

Nanami: We’ll come back to the disobedience topic. Why haven’t you texted me “yet”?

Yn: Nervous.

Nanami: You’re adorable. What’s there to be nervous about?

“Can anyone name an example of synaptic pruning?” The professor’s sudden loud voice catches you off guard. You hadn’t been paying attention at all, and you feel your heart start to race at the thought of being randomly called upon.

“Anyone?” The professor asks once again. “Yn-“ She almost says your first name before Nanami interrupts.

“Crown thinning.” He answers the question, saving you from total embarrassment.

“Very good. Thank you, Kento.” The professor praises as she turns back around to start lecturing from the powerpoint again.

Yn: You totally just saved me.

Nanami: Pay better attention.

Yn: Then stop texting me.

Nanami: No.

Nanami: Answer my question. Why were you nervous?

Yn: I just didn’t want to say the wrong things.

Nanami: You’re hopeless.

Yn: You’re starting to sound like Utahime :(

Nanami: Will you coo to me that you love me if I act like her?

You feel your heart start to race as you read his text over and over. He was way more observant than you gave him credit for. You couldn’t even think of a time where you told Uta that you loved her in front of him.

Yn: Is that what you want?

Nanami: That does sound nice. Though, I think I’d rather hear you breathlessly professing your love to me.

oh…

oh.

You sat your phone down. No way were you going to let some simple words over a screen let you get horny in class. You didn’t dare to glance in his direction as you suddenly decided to start paying attention and taking detailed notes on Neurology.

Nanami: You’re blushing again.

Damn him and his observant personality. Damn him and his filthy words that make you squeeze your thighs together to soothe the ache.

Yn: I’m well aware.

Nanami: It’s cute. Makes me want to say more things just to get a reaction out of you.

Yn: Please don’t

Nanami: Why? Scared you might like it?

Nanami: Scared you might like the thought of being beneath me, begging for more?

Jesus. There was no misinterpreting that. You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth as you stared down at your phone, rereading his message over and over. It painted a picture in your brain.

Yn: As if you could make me do that.

Nanami: I can, and I will. Come over tonight.

Yn: To the frat house?

Nanami: No, to my room. I’ll tell Haibara to not come back until late.

Yn: That seems rather rude.

Nanami: It’s far better than the treatment you’ll be receiving later.

Your head feels like it’s spinning as the professor dismisses class. The rest of the day drags by painfully slow as you feel every little heartbeat and flutter in your chest. Nanami talked big game for someone who seemed too shy to really speak to you. It made you feel intrigued. How could he be so confident in his ability to make you beg?

You took your time once you were back at your dorm: going through your everything-shower routine. You wanted to make sure that every inch of you was soft and smooth just in case! It’s not like he’s actually going to make you do anything.

Knocking on his door, you feel your stomach churn with anxiety. You two seemed to be doing better at keeping up a conversation, but you were still deathly afraid of that awkward silence sinking in.

The click of the lock gains your attention, and Nanami opens the door for you. “Come in.” He says flatly, moving out of the way of the door so you can squeeze past him. He’s wearing his usual button-up shirt with black slacks on. How does this man even relax?

Of course his room is completely clean. His bed was even made military style for crying out loud. What the fuck does this man know about making women beg?

“Your room is nice.” You compliment, trying not to sound too awkward.

“It’s a room.” He shrugs nonchalantly before his eyes travel your body.

“How did you tell Haibara not to come home?” You ask, and he gives you a slightly puzzled look.

“I told him the truth.” He says as he loosens his tie from around his neck.

You swallow harshly as you watch his slender fingers pull at the fabric. His jaw is perfectly sculpted along with his neck, and his adams apple bobs as he steps towards you.

“Which is?” You reluctantly ask.

“I told him not to come home unless he planned on watching me fuck a pretty girl to tears.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you stare up at him with almost a frightened gaze. His movement feels much more predatory now as if he’s been watching you for a while, sizing you up. He had observed and stood by, waiting for the prime opportunity to pounce.

“What is it? Cat got your tongue?” Nanami asks as he steps forward again. The back of your knees hits his bed, and his smile shifts to a lopsided grin.

“No. I just…” You had no idea what to even say to that! You weren’t use to a man so confidently bolstering about his skills without sounding like a total idiot. Nanami was a rarity. He could talk the talk and walk the walk.

“No. I just..” He mocks you. “You’re awfully nervous for someone I haven’t even touched yet.” His fingers gently caress over your collarbone, before he carefully nudged you back. You tipped over and found yourself sitting on his bed, looking up at him with big round eyes.

“Christ. Have you ever even done this before?” He asks as he leans over you. His hand press down on the mattress at both of your sides, effectively trapping you beneath him.

“Yes!” You exclaim with a huffy attitude that makes him chuckle. “Have you?” You ask, trying to even the score.

“No.” He responds before closing the distance between you two. His lips press against yours and move delicately. Your eyes widen before you realize what was going on, and you slowly melt into the kiss.

Lips smack together as he takes the lead on the kiss. His hands gently cup and caress their way down your body before resting upon your hips. His knee finds it’s way between your thighs, and he applies pressure to your core.

Stifling a small whine, you entangle your fingers through his blonde hair. It’s softer than you imagined it to be. His kisses are growing more and more demanding as he’s pushing you back onto the bed more and more.

He gently bites at your lip, and he applies more pressure with his knee. As soon as you let another another small whimper, he slips his tongue into your mouth.

He’s taking complete and utter advantage over your body while you’re still trying to wrap your head around the fact he said “no”. He’s claiming to have never done this before.

His thumbs dig into your hipbones before he makes you grind against his knee.

“That’s right. Use me.” He purrs lowly, encouraging for you to keep rolling your hips. Once you found a steady rhythm, rubbing yourself against his knee like a desperate slut, he releases your hips and grabs your wrists, pinning you down to the bed.

“Ken..” You gasp out lowly, and he immediately eats up your words, forcing his lips right back upon yours.

The grinding was slowly making you feel all dizzy in the head as you slowly start to mess up your rhythm. He immediately notices your messy state. His hands leave your wrists to grab back ahold of your thighs to make sure you don’t stop. If his slacks weren’t black, he was sure there would be a small damp spot on his leg from your delicious juices.

“Hah~” You gasp as you lean your head back.

“Does that feel good?” He questions lowly before carefully nipping at your neck.

“Yes… Yes, Kento.. more..”

“Oh, what was that, darling? I didn’t hear you.” He taunts as he bites his way down your neck.

“M-more!” You whimper out as you grow impatient.

“So greedy…” He murmurs before his sucks a small hickey on your neck all while he’s still making you grind your pitiful pussy against his thigh. “Beg.”

You feel that defiant nature wanting to kick in. You were needy for him, but you weren’t to the point of begging yet.

“Did you hear me? I said beg.” He demands as he forces you down on his leg harder. Your legs tremble around him as he’s making you rock hack and forth.

“Please-“ You finally choke out against your defiant nature. “I-I.. want more, please… I need you to.. to ruin me.”

“Ruin you, hm?” He asks as his hand carefully trails upwards to your neck. He applies just a bit of pressure. “A pretty girl like you asking for me to ruin her… How could I say no?”

He removes his leg from between your leg, and he quickly replaces it with his hand. His fingers rub firm circles around your clit through the cloth of your leggings. You immediately shudder from the new stimulation. You hold his gaze as he lightly chokes you.

“I think I want to see you come on my fingers first.” He says as he’s quick to shove your leggings and panties down. You gasp quietly as you look down at him. He shuffles himself down between your legs, and he has a determined look on his face. He was set on making you come with his hand.

You push your thighs together with a small whine as he gives your glistening cunt an amorous gaze. Nanami places his hands on both of your knees as he forces your legs back apart. “Now, you know why you came here. What are you running from?”

“I- … You’re looking at me like…” the words ‘like you want to eat me’ die upon your tongue. His aura is just so.. almost intimidating. Not in a scary way, just in a he’s-not-here-to-play way.

“You’re so pretty, but gods, you’re so confusing.” He shakes his head as he carefully drags his tongue up your slippery folds. “Just sit still and let me take care of you, darling.” He mumbles before he laps at your cunt again. He purses his lips and gently sucks on your clit. It almost feels like he’s making out with your pussy.

“Oh.. f-fuck..” You gasp as you lean your head back into his mattress. Your hands fist at the blanket beneath you, ruining his perfectly made bed.

Nanami continues to lick and suck. The sounds in the room were nothing short of erotic. The wet sounds of his lips and tongue smack and almost slurp at you. His hands hold your thighs up, practically wearing them as earmuffs as he eats you like a starved man.

His fingertip gently traced over your opening before he carefully slipped a finger in. He continued to lap at your cunt as his finger pumped in and out and prodded around.

“Oh my-! .. N-Nanami.. ah~” You pant out. In his eyes, your entire body was flushed. You were so subtly grinding yourself against his tongue. In his eyes, you were a goddess in touch with her sexuality and femininity. You just needed a small nudge to get there.

He adds a second finger, and he so carefully curls them upwards to gently press right on the spot that made you see stars.

Your hands abandoned the bed, and you grabbed onto his hair. His hazel eyes flutter up at you, and his glasses were pushed up onto his head.

Your orgasm was building quicker than it ever had before. “Nanami-! fuck, I’m gonna..” You try to warn, but he’s already a step ahead of you. His fingers start pumping a big more aggressively, and he’s pointed with his tongue, focusing all his attention on your clit. His tongue swirls in tight circles around the small bundle of nerves.

Your orgasm washes over you as you clench around his fingers, spasming on his face. He continues to thrust his fingers, letting you ride out your orgasm on his face and hand. Pressing a few more small kisses to your overly sensitive cunt, he slowly pulls away. “Good girl.” He praises lowly.

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you recover from the best orgasm you’ve ever received. Your eyes flutter open weakly to see Nanami ditch his glasses. He uses the back of his hand to wipe his mouth and chin dry.

He then places the fingers he so deliciously used to fuck you into his mouth, and he sucks them clean with a satisfied groan.

“You taste so sweet.” He mumbles as he slowly unbuttons his shirt. It falls to the floor as he starts to unbuckle his belt. You can already feel your arousal building up again as you see the absolute tent in his slacks. Of course the nerd was absolutely hung.

Without another word, his pants and boxers are on the ground. His dick stood hard at attention. It was too heavy to press all the way up towards his stomach. Speaking of stomach, he was absolutely fucking built. He had well-defined solid abs and a broad chest.

You watch carefully as he fists his length a few times. You admire the way the veins bulge from his hands and arms. He wastes no more time: climbing up on top of you. He guides your legs up onto his shoulders, and he leans forward, putting you in a mating press.

His hand suddenly covers your mouth. “Spit.” He orders bluntly.

“W-what-?”

“I didn’t stutter. Spit. Unless you want me to go in dry.”

The thought of that sounded like a nightmare, so you gathered as much saliva into your mouth as you could, and you spat into his hand.

He doesn’t look phased in the slightest as he lubes himself up with your spit. He lets out a soft breath as the wet sounds of him gliding his hand up and down his cock fill the room. He then wipes his hand off on the bed, and he covers your mouth tightly with his hand. “Try not to be too loud, darling. I don’t want anyone to come and bother us.”

He was so fucking confident that he was going to make you noisy. It almost pissed you off, but Nanami was a man of his word.

He aligned himself up with your entrance, and with one deep motion, he buried himself all the way to the hilt. You let out a silent scream into his hand, and your back arches up off the bed. His eyes darken as he lets out a guttural growl.

Your cunt was just too precious to him, squeezing him so perfectly. You were absolutely sopping wet and so goddamn warm. He actually had to bite his tongue to not come prematurely. Once he tasted the hint of metal in his mouth, the urge to finish subsided.

“Shhh, shh. Be a good girl. The pain will subside soon.” He assures you quietly as his hips gently rock back and forth shallowly.

“Mmmnnf~ K-kento!” You moan into his hand. He hates having to muffle your pretty noises, but he really can’t risk getting a noise complaint right now.

“That’s right, darling.. Take it..” His hips start to roll with a bit more conviction. His thrusts are slow but powerful. Each time he buried himself deep in you, you went all dizzy in the head.

“Oh fuck, you’re so pretty like this.” He praises as his other hand holds one of your thighs up for you. Your body is almost slack from how harsh his hips are snapping into you. His leaking tip was bruising your cervix with each brutal thrust.

Nanami wishes he could take a picture right now. Your eyes are all glossed over. Your face is flushed the prettiest shade of pink, and your lips are all puffy and slightly parted. Your babbling utter nonsense as your greedy pussy takes him in with each thrust.

“F-fuck..! So big.. can feel you right here~” You moan as you point towards your lower stomach.

Nanami looks to where you’re pointing, and as if this man needed anymore courage, he begins to fuck you harder.

Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap!

“Yeah? Y’feel me in your womb, darling?” He groans. Noise complaint can be damned. He lets your mouth go and grabs your hips as he continues to pound your pretty pussy.

Tears involuntarily spring into your eyes from the sheer intensity. When Nanami said he was going to fuck you to tears, you thought it was just a figure of speech. Nah, you were lying in his bed, crying because the dick was so good.

“Look at me.” He demands as he grabs your blushed cheek and forces you to look up at him. “This pussy’s mine from now on, understand me?”

“Y-yes!” You cry out to him. Your stomach starts to coil with white hot pleasure as your orgasm builds up again.

“Tell me you love me when you cum on my cock.” He demands lowly. You’re too fucked stupid to argue.

The bed squeaks and wails in agony as he his thrusts are growing more erratic and sloppy. You could feel him getting closer and closer to his release as he gets more vocal and noisier too.

Your eyes cross as you feel your body gyrate on him. Your second orgasm crashes over you so suddenly you didn’t even have time to warn him. Your soul nearly floats away from you as you feel warm juices flood out from you. “Fuck~.. I-.. I love you, Nanami!” You whimper out. In the heat of the moment, it does feel like love.

Such pure pretty words being uttered during such a lewd time. Nanami is instantly emptying himself into you. His dick throbs as he shoots ribbon after ribbon of cum inside of you. His hands are shaking as they hold onto your hips. “Ngh.. I love you, darling. Take it.. All of it. Don’t waste a drop.” He lowly growls.

The room is quiet as both of you pant softly. After a few moments, you realize you had professed a love to him that you weren’t even sure about. Yes, Nanami was attractive physically and mentally. Sure, he was apparently a god in bed, but love???

What if he wasn’t even being serious when he told you to say that? He probably didn’t even mean it when he said it back. What if you made things weird? Is that why he’s being so silent?

Nanami leans down and presses a small kiss to your forehead. “That was intense. Are you alright, darling?” He asks affectionately.

You nod weakly, not wanting to frustrate him with your insecure thinking style.

“Are you sure? I’m not only talking about physically.” He murmurs softly as he slowly allows for your thighs to slip down to around his hips. His hand carefully strokes your cheek.

“I told you I love you..” You murmur out quietly, avoiding his gaze.

He exhales softly in amusement. “You did do that. It was very sexy. Do you regret saying it?”

“I.. I don’t know.” You confess quietly. “You said it back too…”

“I did. Seeing your body in such a vulnerable state as you were trusting me with your very essence made me feel full with love.”

You look up at him as he just said the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard.

“I don’t think I regret it.”

“I’m glad. I don’t regret it either.” He smiles and presses another small kiss to your temple.

*** *** ***

“Was that really your first time?” You giggle as the hot water coats your body. Nanami’s fingers are attentively massaging shampoo into your scalp.

“It really was.” He laughs quietly. “Why is it so hard to believe.”

“You were too good for a virgin.”

“I’m glad my darling thinks so.” He smiles and carefully leans your head back, so the water can rinse the shampoo from your hair.

“Where did you even learn that stuff from?” You ask curiously, wondering if Nanami just had a secret raging porn addiction.

“I have the horniest friend group. They don’t understand the concept of too much information.”

Ah. That makes sense.

tags: @lemonlimecrystal-blog

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

this is what happens when social butterfly talks too much

“h-how filthy you are.” nanami’s voice was husky and laced with warning, trembling slightly as he spoke with each thrust, pinning you firmly to the bed and fucking you from behind.

what had led to this?

you had no idea.

you’d barely come back from school when nanami declared you were heading to his place. as soon as he opened the door, he kissed you roughly, scooped you up, carried you to his room, and bent you over, spanking your ass with fervor.

and god, it hurt.

his thick cock hit all your sweet spots with every thrust, making you bury your face further into the sheets beneath you. this position made you feel every inch of him so intensely that, even though you felt full to the brim, you still wanted more.

nanami groaned deeply, landing another sharp smack on your reddened ass. “what’s your deal, huh? trying—ugh—trying to drive me insane?” his large hands gripped your hips tighter, pushing his cock deeper into your sensitive walls.

“w-what are you talking about?” you managed to stammer, barely coherent, consumed by the maddening pleasure of his cock filling you.

“liar.” smack. “don’t even try to test me—fuck, you feel so good…”

it was too much. you’d already come so many times that each orgasm felt stronger and more frequent, your body trembling as nanami kept pounding into you without missing a beat, determined to ruin you completely.

“do you have to be so friendly with everyone?” his tone was sharper now, tinged with jealousy.

“i am not friendly—ahh ken, please—” your words broke off into a moan as he found that perfect spot inside you, sending you over the edge again.

“again? what a needy girl you are. did i tell you to come?” his pace slowed. nanami knew your orgasms were becoming more frequent as he kept thrusting his cock into you over and over again. that's why he wanted you to beg him a little.

“no, no, don’t stop!” you whined desperately, protesting the sudden lack of movement inside you.

“then why were you talking to them?” he thrust in just the tip before slamming his cock back inside you. “i hate how much of a social butterfly you are.” he pulled out until only his head was inside again.

oh. you finally understood why your boyfriend had been so riled up.

“they-they just needed the notes, ken.” the words fell from your lips in a shaky mumble.

“notes, huh?” he let out a bitter laugh, plunging deep enough to make you scream. “don’t they have their own hands to write? did it have to be you?”

“they m-missed class.”

nanami chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. “sure, sweetheart.” he pulled back only to resume his relentless pace, pounding into you as if it were the last thing he’d ever do, fully intent on claiming every inch of you.

“never again—fuck—never give them anything, got it?” he punctuated his words with a rough thrust, making sure you felt every single one.

“yes.” your answer was muffled, your face buried in the sheets as waves of pleasure overwhelmed you.

a firm slap landed on your already sore ass. “louder sweetheart.”

“fuck, yes ken. i won’t talk to them again!” your hands clawed at the wrinkled sheets beneath you, gripping them tighter.

“that’s my girl.” nanami tilted his head back, feeling his release building as his pace became more frantic. “now i’m going to fill you up, sweetheart. i won’t stop until every inch of you is dripping with me.”

his grip on your hips tightened, his strong hands holding you so firmly it made your skin burn. you felt the warmth of his release spilling inside you, your toes curling at the sensation. there was something so satisfying about taking all of him, knowing you were the only one who could make him lose control like this.

when he finally pulled out, not a single drop escaped you. he’d made sure of that.

you shivered as his warm lips pressed against your sore, reddened ass.

“my beautiful girl. i love you so much,” he murmured, his hands now gentle as they rubbed soothing circles over your tender skin.

then, just as he’d carried you to the bedroom earlier, he scooped you up again and took you to the bathroom. there, he filled the tub with warm water and bubbles, treating you with all the care in the world, a stark contrast to his earlier roughness.

when nanami got jealous, he could lose himself completely—but no one else could fuck you like that or pamper you afterward quite like he could.

a little note: i'm so horny and i need jealous nanami.

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

[irndad]

i wish i knew you wanted me - s.r.

a/n: okay this ended up being so so long forgive me!!! i hope you like<3 summary: based loosely on 'bad habit'. spencer got asked out by reader 5 years ago, when he was recovering from his dilaudid addiction, and turned her down. now, he's in love with her, and pining for her. also, jealous!spencer. she fell first, he fell harder. wc: ~2k

She’s very pretty. It’s distracting. Right now, she’s staring intently at his hands, and he feels hot under her gaze. It’s been a while since he’s done this, the little rocket trick, but she’s visiting the office, and Garcia had mentioned he’s a magician. 

“That’s incredible!” She exclaims, a giggle in her laugh, and he feels the swoop of his stomach, the butterflies of it all, “You got them so high up!”

“It’s just physics,” he laughs, meeting her warm gaze. Her smile is one for the ages. 

She’s here dropping off a file. They’ve known eachother a really long time, actually. She was an expert witness for them, once, years ago. She spoke with ease, both on the stand and in person. Equal measure kind and measured, and Spencer had adored her on first glance. They’d met when he was just getting clean from Dilaudid, and Spencer’s been in love with her since not long after than first meeting. That’s pretty much the only thing about her he wishes he could take back. 

He still has a hard time thinking about it, the fact that he met her when he was barely himself. Still, she’d been kind, listened to him talk and let the others tell her that he was…going through something. It was on his two month sobriety date (which she’d had no way of knowing) that she’d asked him out. 

Sometimes, when he can’t sleep, he replays the memory in his head. How she works just south of their office, and how they’d meet at the café nearest, and chat for an hour before calling a cab home. 

On the other side of the veil, he can picture that night, years ago now. How she’d looked with the snow kissing her nose, dotting the edges of her faux-fur hood. She’d stuck out her tongue to catch a snowflake, and he’d almost combusted and the adorability of it. 

“You look nice,” she’d said, although at the time he’s pretty sure he looked gaunt. He’d only recently started to gain the weight back- but still, her praise felt like stardust. 

“You look nicer,” he’d said back, gently bumping her shoulder as a fond gesture. Her little grin is well-worth how awkward they both look on the street.

“Listen,” she had said, stuffing her hands into her pockets, the size of the coat causing her hands to disapear from sight entirely, “I asked JJ and Morgan, and they said you’re not seeing anyone.”

“Oh, yeah. They love reminding me of that. Not everyone can be like Morgan and have dated half the western hemsiphere.”

He felt embarrassed, her watching him. It’s nice, but sometimes feels like staring into the sun. 

Her chuckle was nervous, not fully reaching her eyes. 

“You okay? 

“Yeah,” she swallowed again, before speaking, “I was wondering, um, if you might want to grab a drink with me?”

“Sure,” he’d replied back, amenably. He couldn’t tell why she looked so nervous, “I can’t really do hard liquor, though. Maybe we can invite the team.”

“No, Spence, I was wondering if you and I could go on a um, a date.”

And he’s frozen. Because this might be the second time he’d ever been asked out, and second, this might be his dream girl. She’s gorgeous and kind and she’s in front of him, asking him out. 

“I um,” his mouth was dry. He’d be a bad boyfriend. He was a recovering drug addict who already was bad at talking to people, and she lit up a room whenever she walked in. She finds him easy to be with, easy to care for and he’s bound to fuck it up. He couldn’t imagine giving that up because he was too greedy to take what he got. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

He almost took it back with incredible speed, with that flash of disapointment on her lovely face, and the knowledge that it’s because she wanted him, before she quickly regained her speech.

“That’s totally alright! We’ll just be good friends, yeah?”

In the here and now, they are friends. Best of, really. And he made the right choice. He’d lashed out at Emily a month later in a withdrawl, and he knows that he’d have done the same to her, and now, she’s still in his life. 

The drawbacks of course, to being her friend, means she has dates. Boyfriends, as well, and he’s been a…friend, through it all. Good friend. She’s never suspeced him of anything more, of course, after he’d categorically rejected it. 

(Even though this rejection plays in his head all the fucking time, like a torturous groundhog day.)

She’s beautiful today, a blue blouse with a scarf lazily around her neck, and the way she’s leaning over his desk to see the  trick before she drops off her analysis. 

“Alright, Spence,” she says, her rose perfume wafting in the air prior to her hopping off the corner, “Did you need anything else? Today is my half-day, and Harry wanted to take me to Art Insititute.”

Harry, is the boy on rotation at the moment. Spencer has no impulse control and a super-computer expert best friend, so Spencer knows that Harry is 6’0 on his Driver’s License, and is a Financial Analyst. Spencer knows from her own mouth that this will be the third date, and that he’s a little boring but she’s attracted to the fact that he was direct and wanted to go out again. 

Low bar, but one Spencer couldn’t even clear. He doesn’t say any of that, though.

“That sounds fun,” he says, instead of saying that he’d love to walk her through the inscriptions on each art piece, love to kiss her in front of something thats’ beauty does not come close to her’s. “Are you thinking it might run long, or are we still doing the bookstore and TV at mine after?”

He’s been looking forward to this all week. He bought special marshmallows for her cocoa. He also htes to imagine her date running long. 

“Nah,” she smiles, “besides, he’s just some guy. You’re Spencer.”

Morgan doesn’t say anything when he looks down at his. paperwork, and scribbles instead of thinking, the best he can. 

________________________________

Don’t think about the fact she was on a date. Don’t think about how Harry might have got to kiss her. Just don’t bring it up. 

“How was the date?”

She shrugged, pulling at the spine of a hardcover novel. 

“It was fine. Like I said, he was kind of boring.”

“So why’d you go out with him again?”

“I dunno, Spence, I just… I want a boyfriend, you know? I want someone to want to be with me.”

She is so beautiful. She laughs with her whole chest, and she listens to his stories and chimes in with her own expertise. She has a voice that seems like it’s spun gold thread, and he’d give anything to kiss her. 

“I get that,” he says, instead of anything he’s thinking. She’s wearing brown lipstick, transfer proof. He’s in love with her. “There’s got to be guys lining up for a girl like you.”

“That’s a nice thought, Spence. Not the ones I’d like.”

___________________________

This thought haunts his evening, and when he parks and they start the walk-up to his apartment, a confession hammering at his throat, a physical urge. She’s giggling at some long physics joke he’d made, and he’s addicted to the soft bell of her laughter.

His apartment is small and lovely, and he enjoys having her in the small and dark of the night, the sun set over what he wishes were two lovers. 

“You are really pretty, you know,” he says, once she’s settled into his chest, a sick satisfaction of knowing Harry got a quick thank you text before she darted over to Spencer’s arms. 

“Thanks, Spencer. You’re a good friend.”

“Why do you always say that?”

“That you’re a good friend?”

“I’m not saying you’re pretty because I’m a good friend. I’m saying it because it’s true, and I enjoy saying true things.” 

“You don’t…I don’t know why you’re saying that, Spencer. We’re friends and I adore you and I’m here right now, but you don’t need to make it harder on me.”

She looks nervous, and a little disapointed. He wants her to know, that even if he’s missed his shot, she’s not going to be alone. He’s gonna spend the rest of his life hating whoever knew to take the best thing offered to him, but Spencer- he knows he is not going to be the last to love her. He grabs her hand without thinking, her doe eyes peering into his with some emotion he can’t pin down. 

“Hey, I’m not trying…to make anything hard for you. I don’t ever want to do that. I just… some day someone’s gonna see you and want to be with you and I’m going to watch it and know it was inevitable.” 

The words taste like barbed wire. 

Ask me again, he wants to beg, I’m ready now. I’ll do it right. 

Is that even true? Is it just that he wants her bad enough he’s willing to risk not doing it right?

“You’re so sweet,” she sobs, and oh, she’s crying. Just a little, but tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “You make it so hard to be your friend. And I know that’s my problem, that you’ve always been straight up with me. I asked you out and you said no, and I know that-“

“I know that I was too late, and freaked out about being with someone like you when I was still so fucked up.” they’re so close to eachother, he can smell her chapstick. His chest aches. “Sweetheart, that had nothing to do with you. It was all me. It’s a train I missed that I’m gonna spend the rest of my life wishing I’d caught.”

He feels uncomfortably bare, even in the oversized sweater that she’d gotten him last Christmas, and that he’d pretended had been from his lover all of that week. But it’s important that she knows.

“What do you mean, ‘too late’?”

Her voice is small, so quiet he barely hears it. She threads her nimble fingers into his slender ones, and his heart is hammering. 

“I-I was on Dilaudid, or just barely off, you know- you wouldn’t want to be with someone like me. You asked me out when you didn’t even know that.”

“I know you now. Years worth of knowing.”

“And you haven’t asked me since.” 

“Spencer,” her voice is warm, rich like silk and grainy old music, and he wants to drink this image in, her fingers stroking the side of his face like he’s holy. He wonders if he’s dreaming, with how good she feels to be so close to. 

Ask me again, he wants to beg. I’m ready, now. 

“Spencer Walter Reid,” she says, properly holding his hand, bringing her soft lips to his hand, kissing his knuckle. He feels anointed, blessed by a higher power. “Could I take you out on a date?”

“Yes,” he says, finally. Five years of waiting melts away as he kisses her, warmth and light seeping into existence, a dream brought to tangible life, to touch and reality, “Actually, wait,” he says, and finishes before her face can fall, “Would you be my girlfriend?”

It’s maybe playing his cards too much, but her wide, ear to ear splitting grin is everything he needs to see, everything he might need to see for the rest of his life. 

“Took you long enough, boy-genius.”

“All you had to do was ask again!”

If she has a complaint about that, it certainly couldn’t be heard by the many, many kisses that would follow. 

[tiredtriedfailures]

avoidant mf x lovebomber is the funniest dynamic. its someone constantly going "im so in love with you i think about you all day youre the most greatest looking person ive ever met youre so hot im crazy abt you heres 6 gifts i think about our future together lets have sex" and the other one going

"...yeah?....is that so......."

[2kiran]

FRANCIS MOSSES 交易 ── `` DARK CONTENT﹕monsterfucking. top amab reader. doppelgänger francis. handjob. no protection + preparation. overstimulation. ✶ IN WHICH you unknowingly let the wrong francis inside.

the prospect of you being fired—or worse, being put in a cell—was incredibly likely. enthusiasm of the milkman’s arrival being your final entry request for the day lead to your upcoming demise.

it shouldn’t be on you, both the blame and responsibility. the given identity document had indistinguishable information, merely an artist’s mistake as you finally realize that his eyebrows were just a tad thicker. his eyes were a bit too lively for the real francis.

realization dawned on you a second too late as you feel cold, but strangely simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar hands grab you from behind. before you could reach the rotary phone to contact the D.D.D., he grabbed your wrist and spun your chair around to face him.

francis, or so you thought, had a gentle smile plastered on his face but you knew better to tell that his intentions were far from truly kind. “don’t tell me you were actually going to let them kill me,” your jaw tightened, gaze hardening into a glare. he chuckled, hands landing on the armrests, so dangerously close to yours that were balled in fists to prevent yourself from punching his face.

when you didn’t respond, he continued. leaning in as he shook his head with a scoff, “aw, c’mon. . .we both know that you’re too much of a good sweetheart, yeah? please don’t try that again.” his saccharine voice was improbable, a subtle take of a threat behind his tone.

“you’re gullible enough to think i’d do that for you.” the tension between you was palpable, a thin thread that threatened to break at the tip of his finger. his lips pouted, sadness in his untrue eyes. “me? but you’re the one who let me in here,” he laughed, tone rather arrogant, “and i should thank you for that.”

if he were the real francis, you probably would have been making out with him by now. this doppelgänger was awfully confident, you wish you could break him. see tears fall down to his round cheeks, lips trembling as pleas tumbled out of his pretty lips.

these thoughts were idiotic. but fuck, he was near enough to the milkman, the clueless neighbor who could care less about it all. “want me to spare you? or—” you cut him off, lips connecting with his. francis was surprised, but welcomed it nonetheless. his hand came up to your neck, sliding towards your hair. groaning as he gently, almost experimentally, tugged at it. tongue met tongue, a clash of saliva and mess. you bit onto his bottom lip, eliciting a soft moan.

“mmph, and here i thought you hated me.” he grinned, panting, “what gave you that idea?” you place a kiss on his chin, “because you tried to get rid of me, and the fact that. . .i’m not him.” grabbing his hips, he let out a yelp. he scrambled to hold onto your shoulders for dear life, gasping when he felt your teeth graze against his neck. “seems like i’ve struck a nerve, hu—haah, fuck!”

a lewd moan had escaped him, your teeth sinking into his flesh. it was far from gentle, biting him like you wanted to see him bleed. he was simply a doppelgänger that you stupidly let in, after all.

the pink muscle settled in your mouth lapped at the bite, cueing francis to whimper at the sensation. he moved closer on your lap, grinding against your crotch. the action could’ve been mistaken for something relating to a dog; for he seemed like a bitch in heat. quite uncharacteristic for his kind. “you’re pathetic, mosses.”

francis, beyond belief, was affected by the use of the stolen surname more than you anticipated. his hips trembled, “that’s, haah, not my fault. you made me like this. fucking a– ah! doppelgänger, really? they’d surely co– come for you next.” his cock twitched, spilling pre-cum that formed a wet patch on his boxers. you were a lowly human, another one to get rid of, so why does he feel this way?

silence was met with his words. not until you pull down his pants, taking off what was left until his lower half was bare to you. “oh yeah? you’re letting me fuck you,” your fingers wrapped around the base of his dick, giving a single stroke, “you’re not even trying to fight back against me, honey.”

he whined, beginning to selfishly rut into your palm. “what were you going to say?” francis doesn’t respond and you twist your wrist, a cry slipping from him. you asked on a whim, wishing to hear what he planned besides allowing you to carry on with your life. “i-i don’t know!” your thumb presses down on his slit, causing him to wrack his brain to remember. “ah, ah, i meant to ask if you wa- want me to kill you right he— hmmng!” his voice wobbled as if he was fearful, tears in his eyes and he’s suddenly ethereal.

“do you still want to do that? to end my life?”

“no, no, please, i didn’t mean it.”

you tease the vein that ran on his shaft, never failing to witness the face he makes when he’s within the depths of pleasure; of that high he never dared to reach. oh, if only if it was francis mosses. the real one, the one you’re so curious about, the one who your eyes like to linger on a bit too long for comfort. your pace picks up, palm slick with his pre-cum and the room’s sinful with his sobs and arousal.

francis moans under his breath, “i’m cumming-!” he warns a second too late, hips bucking as the familiar fluid splatters across your fingers. the doppelgänger was your very own legendary mona lisa with how his face is painted with all shades of red.

when you swipe your thumb over his tip, he swore he had a glimpse of the deity he didn’t have the conscience to worship.

beliefs were foolish; it was his opinion. with that, he thought you were the one insane. doppelgängers aren’t flawed with such imperfections like humans are. he didn’t need to be prepared for situations similar to this, and you used his inhumanity for your pleasure.

“ughm, agh!” you had wordlessly given your cock a few pumps, no more than that before slipping inside of his tight hole. the tiniest beginning of guilt threatened to engulf you with shame, but why should you allow it? his mere purpose and intention was to murder.

his hole spasmed around you, freely welcoming the intrusion. maybe they were quite useful after all. he whined, his insides tingling with the stretch. the doppelgänger has never felt so full, or genuinely anything, for that matter. “please—fuck, move already, damnit.” he, himself, was breathless.

how could you deny him?

your hands grasped his hips tightly, like you wanted to indent a marking into his flesh. cold emanated from your palms, contrasting to the heat licking at his cheeks. he’s lighter than you’d expect, hole gripping you as if he was a fleshlight. lifting him up, your tip was held onto. heavenly; as the way he wrapped around you was undeniably heavenly.

sensing his apparent impatience, you let him crash down on you. a broken gasp-of-a-moan occupied the air, globs of pre-cum building on his slit. “yeah, fuck me like that,” he breathed, instructions hazily clear to your sex-deprived brain. his ass slapped, slapped, slapped against you. shit, the D.D.D. surely ought to give you a punishment worse than death for this.

he clung onto you, both with his arms and entrance. you don’t think you could really get enough—as vague as this memory could get. your tip brushes against his prostate with each harsh thrust, slick sounds adding onto the cotton pressed into his little head, forming static and nothing else to focus on besides your cock pounding into him. “you’re liking this- ahngm! right? like how good i feel? haa, needed your dick in me s’ bad. . .”

he pushed his hips forward, grinding on your cock as he purposely clenched. “thaaaat’s it, sweetheart. think ‘m gonna keep you.”

yeah, let’s hope your neighbors forgive you for indulging in him.

masterlist﹒divider﹒artist kaworinx

[talaok]

Give up

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: Once again you've found an excuse to invite your neighbor over, except for once you might be able to make him look past your age difference and have a little fun.

Warnings: big ass unspecified age gap, Jackson!Joel is a softie and he's nervous and he's not so very sure about this bc of how old he is + he's out of practice. smut| oral (m and f receiving) and swallowing you know what. sub!Joel vibez all around

Pt. 2

This wasn't anything new.

The fact that he was coming over wasn't at all surprising to either of you.

You always found a way to be around him, and no matter how he ignored your every attempt at flirting- he never said no.

It had taken all of two minutes.

You'd knocked on his door, your best little skirt and tight little top on, and faked a pout as you told him:

"There's something wrong with the shower again Mr. Miller"

To his defense, Joel really tried not to stare at your ass as you walked right in front of him to guide him to your house, but that fucking skirt seemed more of a joke than anything.

You both knew there was nothing wrong with your shower, the switch that granted the hot water had just mysteriously turned itself off once again.

This had been going on for months now, since he first arrived in Jackson... since you knocked at his door that one chilly morning to introduce yourself to your new neighbor-

All it took was one look, and you were hooked.

He was gonna be yours.

"there- 's hot" he nodded, shutting the water off once he'd made sure it worked properly again, before drying his hands on his pants.

"thank you so much Joel" you smiled wider than necessary "What can I do to thank you?"

And no, you didn't even try to make your words not sound dirty, quite the opposite actually.

He cleared his throat, his eyes breaking from yours in a nervous shift.

You always did that- had this annoying effect on him.

"'s nothing darlin'" he shook his head, "didn't even take five minutes"

"Still- I feel like I owe you," you said, biting down a smirk

Shitshitshit

"How 'bout some cake?" you suggested just as he was about to have a stroke.

"sounds good"

__ __ __

"'s real good darlin'"

"thank you" you smiled happily, watching him clear his plate in under a minute

Yeah... you were a great baker, what can I say

"you want another slice?"

"You spoil me sugar," he laughed, patting his belly "I can't"

"alright" You couldn't help but softly laugh as you placed his plate in the sink.

You caught him looking away just as you turned around, which made you smile to yourself, a smile that only widened when you noticed the chocolate on the corner of his mouth.

"Oh Joel"

"Mh?"

You sat beside him at the table, your legs brushing against one another as you leaned closer.

"You've got something... right here"

You swiped the chocolate off with your pointer finger, making a show of popping it into your mouth to clean it.

His eyes remained transfixed on you as your tongue licked your digit clean until you were finally done with a loud pop.

"Jesus"

"What?" you smirked, knowing exactly what  "that gave you some ideas?"

"babygirl-" he stopped you immediately, shaking his head

"Oh c'mon Joel" you pouted, your hand going to rest on his forearm "What's a girl gotta do to get you to give up?"

He blinked, looking at you intently and nervously altogether.

"Why do ya even care about an old man like me sweetie?"

You couldn't help but laugh "Have you ever looked in a mirror, Joel?"

You swore you saw pink flood his cheeks- the man was blushing.

"Plus you're kind... and funny when you want to.... and you make me feel-" you bit your lip, trying to find the right word "safe... you make me feel safe"

He scratched his beard, but you couldn't help but notice he hadn't used the arm your hand was still on.

"'m sure there's boys here that are funnier and kinder and make you feel even safer babygirl" he spoke gently "Pretty sure most of them are prayin' you give 'em a chance actually"

You hummed, raising a brow

"but what if I don't want them?"

"You want an old man instead?" he huffed out a self-deprecating laugh.

You rolled your eyes "How old even are you?"

"old enough to be your father darlin'"

God, maybe there was something wrong with you, but those words only made your need for him burn harder.

"so?"

"so I ain't even supposed to look your way babygirl- it ain't right"

"But why?" you pouted "Shouldn't I get to have a say in what's right and wrong for me?"

He sighed, not really knowing what to answer to that.

"What if I don't care?" you spoke softly, your pointer finger on his chest, circling his pec "What if I like you, Joel? what if I wanted to show you just how much right now?"

"sweetheart" he started, shaking his head

"You'd stop me?"

And there it was, the pause... your way in.

"Joel?" you called for him, your voice sickly sweet "Would you?"

He couldn't do anything but tell the truth when you were looking at him like that.

"I don't think any man in his right mind could or would ever stop you darlin'"

Satisfaction took over your whole body.

"no?" you teased, grinning like a cat "Not even if he's old enough to be my father?"

He sighed, what looked like resignation in his eyes.

"I'm just a man sweetheart"

And that- that got him the biggest smirk ever known to man.

There was no sound, it was like the word got quiet as you stood up, placed your hands on his thighs, and slowly kneeled between his legs.

He didn't know what to do, he was genuinely frozen, torn between guilt and attraction, the need to let go, to finally do this- that his brain was short-circuiting.

You took advantage of his silence, making quick work of his zipper, and pulling down his boxers just enough to free his cock...

All your speculations got proven right there- he was huge.

"oh wow," you bit down a grin as you watched your fingers struggle to wrap around his whole base.

You gave him a tentative squeeze, and the strained groan rumbling from his chest was just about the hottest thing you'd ever heard.

"y-you- f-fuck"

You stopped him before he could start protesting, your tongue sliding slowly on his tip before leaving a little kiss right on top.

"You're so big" you hummed, your tongue licking him up from base to head, feeling every vein and twitch of his member.

He was looking down at you just as you looked at him, and he seemed... mesmerized, like he couldn't believe this was really happening, that this wasn't another one of the dreams he'd get about you at night, and that it was really your lips wrapping around him.

Goddamnit

You had barely a little more than his tip in your mouth and he was already gone- and I mean gone gone.

He couldn't even remember why he'd spent so long ignoring your not-so-subtle hints-

Just a minute ago he wanted to tell you that no, you don't gotta do that, and ask you sure about this? - But now... now all he could do was throw his head back as he realized that his lack of practice these past few years had really gotten to him, and that he already had to grab at the chair beneath him with all his strength as he tried not to come embarrassingly fast.

You hummed around his cock, and he couldn't stop his hips from thrusting upwards, a small choking sound fleeing your throat.

"goddamnit, 'm sorry baby-"

But the moment he looked down at you, he saw everything but anger... you seemed happy- you were begging him to do it again with your eyes.

But he couldn't, and part of you already knew that.

He shook his head slowly, still trying to think as straight as he could given the situation, but while he was busy with that... you settled for the next best thing... you forced his manhood down your throat all on your own.

The groan he let out was damn near feral.

You couldn't actually get all of it down there, it was the biggest dick you'd ever seen in your life after all, but you swore that with a little bit of practice (that he'd hopefully grant you), you'd get there.

Still, he didn't really seem bothered or in any way disappointed by your inability.

It was an indescribable feeling seeing this tough, rugged man shiver with pleasure before you, his eyes shut and knuckles white with the effort of gripping onto something.

"I- fuck"

He didn't even know what he wanted to say, he just... it felt so fucking good

Your head was back on bobbing up and down his length, and what used to be groans had turned to moans coming out of his mouth.

"Y-you've gotta-" he swallowed, his sentence interrupted by the feeling of your fingers playing with his balls.

"Y-you've got t-" to stop

But you were choking on his girth again

"I-'m gonna-" come

You watched him struggle with his words, his breathing, and his self-control with what would have been a huge smirk on your face if your mouth hadn't been so preoccupied.

You knew he was about to come already, it really wasn't hard to understand,

You also knew that if you stopped now there was a chance you'd get to do more later- but really, this was something too perfect to leave halfway done, and besides... you feared that if you went with your initial plan of straddling his lap and riding the man to heaven, you'd leave him traumatized.

So you didn't stop, you kept massaging his balls as you worked his dick in and out your mouth, ever so often forcing him as deep as you could and choking while drool and saliva dripped down your chin.

"J-Jesus, sweetheart- I-"

All his words came out in rugged breaths, barely coherent- his eyes were back on you, shadows of lust and need darkening his iris as his right hand went to your cheek, a gesture almost too sweet considering what you were doing.

"F-fuck"

And that was it.

He groaned so loud you probably could hear him from outside the house as he reached his climax, rope after rope of his come filling your mouth and throat.

Joel Miller had come in your mouth... and it couldn't have been any more perfect.

You didn't take your eyes off him for one second. You greedily swallowed all his spent as he breathed heavily, eyes still closed.

His dick was softening in your hand as you pulled his boxers back on top of it, a little wave of disappointment washing over your gut.

It's ok, I'll see it again soon

Just as you were plotting exactly how you were gonna get in his pants in the future, his voice startled you

"I-I don't know what to say"

A soft smile pulled at your lips

"You don't have to say anything" you reassured him as you sat back on your chair, your eyes inevitably falling back to where his boxers peeked from the unfasted fly.

"now- I won't keep you hostage any longer, 'm sure you have important stuff to do back at your house"

The frowns on his forehead deepened as his eyebrows came together in confusion.

"What?"

Now you were confused.

"I'm just saying- thank you for... this" You bit down a smile "You know how long I've been wanting it- and you can bet your ass we're doing it and more, again and again, and again" his eyes widened an almost imperceptible amount and you had to stifle a laugh "but... I'm letting you free for tonight"

He took his time to say something.

Silence wrapped around you for a good minute before he was able to mumble something.

"sweetheart-" he cleared his throat to try and clear his thoughts "I-I dunno how you're used to... bein' treated, but this ain't over"

A spark of excitement ignited in your belly

He couldn't mean...

"unless you want it to be, of course"

Oh my

"I definitely don't want it to be" you hastily spoke, almost breathless "but I would like to know what you... mean"

I mean, not to be prejudiced, but you very much doubted he could get it up again so quickly given his... well, age.

He cleared his throat again and you finally realized it was just a nervous tic and he didn't actually feel the need to.

"You should be on a bed" he avoided your question

You couldn't help but smile as you got up

"Such a gentleman"

"that's the last word that comes to mind right now" was all he grumbled

__ __ __

"sit"

that's all he said, and now there you were, sitting on your bed as he looked at you with a mix of lust and uncertainty.

Until he finally did it- he crouched between your legs.

He cleared his throat again, and you felt on the urge of cumbusting.

he was gonna eat you out

You'd only ever done this once, and even then you had to basically beg the guy, just for him to be god-awful at it.

Somehow you had a feeling Joel wasn't gonna be bad at all.

"You sure about this, yeah?"

You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

He could probably ask you to put it up your ass and you'd say yes.

"Yes Joel, I'm 100% positive"

He gave you a little nod, and his hands- his big, strong hands- went to your thighs.

You watched him as if he'd disappear at any moment as he slowly- oh so very slowly- took your skirt off.

He swallowed tightly as his eyes fell on your clothed cunt.

If you didn't know any better you would have guessed he was holding his breath as he got rid of your panties.

"Jesus Christ"

I shouldn't be doing this- I really shouldn't be fucking doing this.

She's not even half my age- she's a kid for god's sake- I'm fucking disgustin-

Every single thought in his mind turned to dust the moment you spread your legs- the moment your wet, drenched, pussy came fully into view.

"Y-you-"

he didn't even remember what he wanted to say- and he didn't remember when his thumb had decided to find your folds, but it had.

He heard a whimper leave your mouth and he felt his cock twitch in his pants, hardening again.

It usually took him a whole fucking hour to get hard again

He looked up at you, and you looked hotter than ever before.

Your cheeks were flushed, your bottom lip was between your teeth, and you looked so... perfect.

"I haven't done this in a- while"

As he spoke those words he hoped you'd think he only meant this... as if you'd actually care about how he hadn't gotten laid in years.

"'s ok Joel" you nodded, smiling encouragingly.

He swallowed again, his gaze slowly lowering.

He couldn't believe you were this wet for him- a pretty thing like you.

His thumb moved, gently sliding up and up and up, until he found your clit, earning another little moan.

Fuck

He circled the little bud, and your cries got a little higher and he swore- he swore going to hell was worth it, worth this.

He had to taste you- fuck, he'd been dreaming about the taste of you since he first saw you- So with all the carefulness in the word, he bent down, his lips finding your soft thighs.

He could see your belly inflate and deflate with your exited breaths as he kissed his way closer and closer to your heat, until he was right there, and he couldn't help but leave a kiss on your mound, on the hair covering it so very nicely.

"Joel-" your voice was strangled "please"

If it had been twenty years ago he would have said something cocky like "'s ok baby, it's coming", his whole demeanor would have been very different too. He used to be in charge in the bedroom, always- he used to feel smug and sure of himself, but now... now he was old and out of practice, and he was... he was nervous.

But all it took was to look up at you, at those beautiful pleading eyes, to find the courage.

You wanted this. You wanted him.

And you tasted better than he could have ever fucking imagined.

A deep, feral groan rumbled in his chest as his tongue passed between your folds, as he gathered all your slickness on his taste buds, all that sweet sweet juice that felt like fucking heaven.

Yeah, now I remember why I used to love this so much

You were moaning like a desperate little thing above him, your thighs squeezing his face as your feet clung to his torso.

And he was gripping the outside of your legs, keeping you as close to him as humanly possible, his face as deep in your core as it would go.

His nose was rubbing against your clit in a way that made you see stars, and he was still lapping, not focusing on anywhere in particular, just aimlessly and desperately feeding off of you.

"Oh my god Joel-" you gasped as two of his fingers found their way inside of you.

His movements were slow, he didn't wanna hurt you, and he wanted to find what made you feel good, which is why he kept exploring until his digits curled up into that sweet cushy part of you, and he felt you squeeze him as you threw your head back.

"f-fuck!"

Your left hand had traveled to his locks, gripping them tightly as your hips frantically moved against his face to try and seek more.

His mouth was focusing only on your clit now, thoroughly sucking on it- and just when you thought this couldn't get any better, that this was the most pleasure you'd ever experienced and there was no way he would be able to top this- another one of his big, thick fingers pushed into you.

The cry you let out was something Joel would be thinking of until he was six feet under.

Three of his fingers were so much more than what you were used to.

"J-Joel" you whimpered actual tears staining your vision as you looked down at him "Oh my fucking g-god Joel"

Your gut had been right. He was really fucking good at this

He was watching you, studying every little face you made as the squelching of his fingers moving inside of you filled the room together with your moans.

"I-I'm coming"

You could barely finish the sentence that the world went bright, and the purest pleasure you'd ever felt erupted in your body with a million different blasts.

For a whole minute, you were in another universe- and Joel eagerly enjoyed the show, not stopping his movements for even a fraction of a second.

You feared the moment you opened your eyes you'd wake up in your bed after yet another dream about this man- and yet he was still here, looking up at you with only adoration in his eyes.

He couldn't help but steal another little kiss on your core before he leaned away.

"well... wow" you smiled like an idiot, your breathing still a little labored "You know what you're doing Mr. Miller"

He didn't say anything, but you saw pink flush his cheeks again as he let your legs go, robbing you of his touch.

You would have been disappointed if it wasn't for the fact he was very clearly having trouble not having his gaze fall down to your heat.

You smiled to yourself as you accepted the skirt he quietly handed you.

Seeing you standing before him with it on when he knew you were bare and wet underneath made Joel's brain freeze for a moment, but that was of course, until you stood on your tiptoes, and placed a kiss on his cheek.

"thank you for this Joel"

Your voice was so sweet it sounded angelic to his ears- but the sweetness was replaced by something very different very quickly.

As you stood back down to your normal height, your body, being flushed against Joel's, came in contact with something that very much piqued your interest.

he was hard- very fucking hard

"no babygirl"

he was already shaking his head, crushing all your dreams

"but-"

"I can't" his tone was firm, although you could still hear restraint behind his words, like it was costing him a lot to say no.

"It feels to me like you very much can" you rebutted, smirking softly.

"I- it ain't right"

Oh my god

It took a lot not to roll your eyes "I thought we were past that whole thing" you said, cocking an eyebrow "Do I need to remind you what you were doing just a minute ago?"

"that's different"

"How?"

"it just is"

"what if I beg you Joel?" you purred, your best doe eyes looking up at him "What if I told you about how much I'd like to feel your cock inside of me? How desperate I am for it, Joel- how much I need it"

He was gonna go home and punch himself in the face for what he was about to say.

But it was true, he couldn't. It wasn't right- he needed... to think about it at least

"darlin'" he spoke softly "I can't... not right now"

there it is

The smirk that pulled at your lips was the most mischievous thing in the world.

"right now" you repeated his words, biting your lip as you played with the hem of his flannel "I can live with that- but Joel...don't even think this is over"

[velvetures]

Got Me Snoring

A/N: One of my favorite things inspired by all the Ghost/König cosplayer TikToks using that one, song audio. Summary: Ghost admits getting head is boring. Reader isn't happy with that idea and goes about changing his mind. T/W: NS/FW 18+ Only, blowjobs, deepthroating, size kink if you squint, spit?, cursing, aggressive tension?, taunting, not proofread, and it's been a long ass time since I've written full-on smut.

“All I’m sayin’ is that if she calls again, I’m not about to answer.” Soap’s voice carried from the living space of the hotel room to the kitchenette where you stood microwaving some rice from a convenience store down the street.

After-mission talk always leads to the most strange conversations. Maybe the adrenaline or the high of getting almost killed got everyone in a talking mood. However as the Captain slid behind you to go grab more ice outside in the hallway, you couldn’t help but shoot him a questioning look. They’d been talking about their previous accomplishments and failures in the bedroom for nearly twenty minutes, and thankfully they’d not roped you into the ridiculous conversation but with the Captain leaving out of the room, it drew their eyesight right to you standing patiently for your instant rice to finish cooking.

“What about you, huh?” Gaz was the one to poke a little. “Have any horror stories from the bedroom?” His eyebrows raised in mischievous curiosity as all three men sat staring at you with great intent.

“I’ve faked it plenty of times.” You reply offhandedly, waving a hand at them and going back to staring at the small plastic cup rotating around in the microwave.

You overheard the men pass through the moment of silence with low laughs, most noticeably, Ghost. Who’d apparently found something very funny and decided to grace everyone with the sound of deep and resounding chuckles. With a gloved hand, you take out your food and rejoin them in the room, finding a spot on the corner of one of the beds and crossing your legs to hold the bowl while you watch and listen to more of their recounted stories.

Soap complained more about the one night he’d met up with one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met, and drank himself into oblivion to try and ease his nerves. The only problem was, that when he finally had enough liquid courage to make a move, he couldn’t get it up. Even watching him recount the tale now, you could see his embarrassment. You couldn’t imagine just how beautiful that woman had to be for Soap to give himself whiskey-dick so bad that to this day he regretted the memory and undoubtedly wished he could take it back. Gaz got pressured into retelling the story of the woman he met in Russia just for you since you’d never heard it; Detailing just how she’d been absolutely obsessed with him right from the get-go.

She couldn’t stop fawning over his accent and just how downright good-looking he was. Gaz on the other hand felt very embarrassed and never really tried to take things further on that trip. Fortunately for him, on a trip back a few months later for pleasure, he ran into the woman again and this time around she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Soap and Ghost laughed, poking fun at how utterly exhausted Garrick was when he met up with them in London. His shit-eating grin was more than enough for them to surmise that his little Russian vixen had taken him for a hell of a ride.

Then there was Ghost.

He didn’t have much to say in the way of his own successes, but did share one or two small comparisons with the other two as they kept pulling out detail after detail about the many people they’d met over the years and how they either felt they’d left their mark… or totally fucking missed it. All of it came to a very interesting topic that you suddenly became very interested in when Ghost uttered one single statement that left your mouth hanging open and staring at him almost in disbelief.

“I don’t like someone blowin’ my cock,” his voice sounded flat. Totally unbothered and nearly sleeping at the idea. “Never cared much for it when half doesn’t fit.”

You couldn’t help but insert yourself into the conversation after a long hour or so of sitting like a viewer at a movie. “Wait a second… You mean to tell me you don’t like getting head because you're too big?” The gasp in your tone was obvious, and even Soap and Gaz looked at him a little strangely as if they didn’t truly believe the idea either. It gave you a bit more reassurance in your belief that almost all men enjoyed it. Sure, there was the odd chance that Ghost just didn’t like it at all, but you really wanted to hear his explanation if he’d give you one.

The Lieutenant turned to look at you and nodded stiffly. “Yeah, ‘bout always puts me to sleep.”

It was at this point you felt the slightest urge to tell him he’d never had someone give him a legitimately good blowjob before. But before you could even say something to the contrary, a thought crossed your mind. Ghost didn’t seem like the kind of man who attracted ill-experienced women. Especially when he had already proven throughout the evening that his previous encounters were much more interesting and expansive than even that of yourself. Something a bit… jealous rose inside of you at the thought.

Imagining your Lieutenant laying on his back and hardly making any sort of sound while someone pulls out every single trick in their arsenal to make a blowjob somewhat entertaining or arousing. You didn’t necessarily profess yourself to have a crush on Ghost, due to just how grey the line between operators and anything felt when you spent so much time together under high-stress environments. There was bound to be some level of emotional attachment that devolved past… professional. And for whatever it was, knowing that Ghost had such a bad opinion on the receiving end of pleasure became a challenge you wanted to overcome.

About that time, Price returned with half-melted ice and a half-smoked cigar hanging between his lips.

“Finished talking about chasin’ tail yet?” He grumbled, walking past the group of you still sitting around each other like a bunch of kids getting caught staying up late by Dad at a sleepover. “Wanna go to fuckin’ sleep.”

He dropped the ice bucket down on the dresser with a little thud before settling himself down on the pull-out couch with his hat covering his eyes and both arms resting behind his head with that cigar still puffing smoke rings into the air. Ghost was the first to stand up, making his way out of the hotel room without as much as a comment about when he’d be back or where he was going. Your eyes trailed over his shoulders tapering into a slim waist before giving way again to thick and muscular thighs enhanced by all of gear still strapped to his body. His kit did leave a lot to the imagination. And god did your mind start to wander as both Soap and Gaz began winding down, settling themselves down to sleep for the night or at least lay somewhere quietly so the Captain didn’t lose any more of his patience and kick someone out or force them to pay for their own room. Not nearly tired enough with all of the questions and thoughts about Ghost now floating through your mind, you didn’t care the least bit about laying down or pretending not to care about the fact of the matter and headed out of the hotel room after the Lieutenant as Soap turned out the final lamp in the corner of the room.

The air was a bit cold outside without your jacket, breath materializing in front of you in light wisps of fog with every exhale as you looked down both ends of the hallway hoping to see some sign of where Ghost might’ve gone to. Down on the far left side, a larger cloud of smoke blew past the breezeway entrance and you knew right away that Ghost would be at the end of it. And when your eyes peeked around the corner, you weren’t the least bit surprised to see him with a shoulder resting up against the wall; his back to you with enough of his mask pulled up so that he could smoke a cigarette. The sweet vanilla and cherry smell hit you like a wall, reminding you that Ghost preferred rolling his own cigarettes and used pipe tobacco instead of buying packs of anything else.

Leaves no trace behind… He’d explained without prompting one night after noticing that you’d been watching him.

“Followin’ me now?” His voice heavy with smoke and unhindered by his mask landed directly on you, not even needing to turn around to know you were the one tailing after him.

“Couldn’t let you freeze to death alone.” You reply with a little smile, taking it as your chance to go ahead and walk -slowly- over to him giving him the privacy to smoke without needing to fuss with keeping his face covered.

By standing just at his back leaning against the wall, he knew right where you were, and it put the weight of conversation on him for the moment. He gave you a gruff sort of sound and took another drag off his cigarette before turning just far enough to offer it to you. You take it from his gloved fingers carefully, licking your lips a little in slight nervousness. This wasn’t the first time he’d offered you a hit, but it was the first time you’d ever actually taken him up on it. Seeing the damp rolling paper on the end made you shiver a little; Hopefully, the cold weather would be a good enough excuse to keep him from recognizing your sudden anxiety around him. Wrapping your lips around it and inhaling, you’re a little more than guilty for noticing the taste of Ghost instead of the vanilla and cherry. With a quick glance to your side, you saw his mask was pulled back down over his mouth and his dark eyes were focused right on you as you blew the smoke out of your mouth and back in through your nose. Attempting to hand it back, he just shakes his head.

“You didn’t come out here to be cold,” He finally broke the silence. “What’d you really want from me?”

No matter how long you spent around Ghost, you never got used to just how miserably direct Ghost could be. Like nothing was truly surprising to him or worth being the least bit delicate over. Even if it concerned someone -like yourself- at least attempting to be a little more discretionary. Yet you sighed and took another drag before tossing the rest of it down on the concrete, putting out the ember with the toe of your boot.

“Were you lying earlier?” Your question falls a little short of confident, giving Ghost the impression right away that you were nervous. For a split second, you thought you saw the phantom of a smile under the cover of his mask before it was quickly hidden back under late-night shadow and white paint. Ghost put his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt and gave a sigh, making more fog swirl around and through the woven material around his mouth. Another thought of what his mouth looked like flashed through your failing mind.

“Why would it matter?”

You licked at your bottom lip, trying to figure out a way to word this without sounding desperate or downright shameless in front of your commanding officer… you shouldn't be thinking about doing this in the first place. So many more bad outcomes could come of this than the one good one. Even then, it was risky. Leaving you a bit dazed and staring at Ghost.

“Asked you a question. I’m expectin’ an answer.” He pressed forward, a slight swagger in his hips as he got closer to you, resting a hand on the wall and tilting his head a little to the side. Damn near mocking you for being so much smaller and easily intimidated. You look down at your boots for a moment, deciding to just put your money where your mouth is and take the hit no matter the outcome.

“If you weren’t lying…” You look up, internally screaming at how heavy his eyes look down on you. “I’d like to try and change your mind.”

A deep chuckle comes from the Lieutenant in response followed by his heavy hand resting on your shoulder, almost totally engulfing it.

“You’re jokin’,” His voice lowered with humor that made you almost shrivel up and die inside. “Why would I let you do that?” You give a frustrated sigh and take a step back away from Ghost. Mentally and physically distancing yourself from the slight Ghost had given you by accident or otherwise.

“Never mind.” You give a short nod and turn on your heel to head back to the hotel room and find somewhere to curl up on the floor or in a bed with someone and try to sleep off your damaged ego.

Yet five steps away from Ghost, you’re stopped short with his arm snaked around your waist tightly and his mouth resting against your ear with a heavy and hot breath fanning against your neck. His palm spreads over your stomach and squeezes almost aggressively at the soft flesh under your shirt. Tall and wide, Ghost yanks your back flush to his chest as a silent threat.

“Don’t fuckin’ walk away from me,” His low growl makes you shiver. “I’m not finished with ya.”

In an instant, you’re spun around and hauled aggressively with your back against the nearest wall with Ghost’s chest holding you from fighting back. His legs limit your ability to try and escape out from under his arms, and while one hand is flat against your chest, the other restricts both your wrists above your head. Breath evacuates your lungs with the sudden shock of your back against the wall, but your eyes are locked on Ghost’s as he glares at you harshly through the wavering mist of his breath in the cold air.

“Now I’ve got you pacified…” His smirk was clear in tone, outright mocking you by pressing those massive thighs tighter against yours. “Let’s continue shall we?” The gloved hand pressed against your heaving chest slides up to grasp firmly at your chin and jerk it up to look him in the eyes.

“Why don’t you be a good little thing and tell me why you think you could change my mind, and maybe… I won’t punish you for talkin’ shit to your superior officer.” He spat loudly, his face less than an inch from yours, eyes flaming with aggression.

“Sorry Lieutenant…” You mutter stiffly through the struggle of his hand against your jaw. “Thought I could do better.” You add a lot weaker, averting your eyes as far from Ghost as you can.

“What was that?” He made dark fun of you, terribly obvious, and downright happy with himself. “Say it again.”

You squirm in his grasp, only to get your wrists slid up higher on the wall and a thigh shoved between your own to lift your feet almost totally off the ground. Toes tapping the ground, Ghost holds you totally of his own power without the slightest effort needed to keep you held right where he wanted you to be.

“Thought I could do better.” You repeat yourself louder, and more clearly, feeling utterly stupid for enduring such pathetic treatment. Only you knew it was your fault for letting such a pipe dream of an idea come to reality by prodding Ghost about his sex life so confidently. The masked man hummed lowly, tilting his head as he inspected your face lighted only by a small sliver of moonlight creeping around the corner of the hallway.

“Better, huh?” Ghost chuckles darkly, this thumb tracing over the bottom curve of your lip carefully. “That’s a lot of confidence for someone so small.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Size has nothing to do with it.”

Ghost barks laughter, grumbling something under his breath before dropping his hand away from your jaw and releasing one of your hands to press against his groin. You can’t miss his meaning from the massive erection pressing back against your hand and twitching impatiently when your Lieutenant squeezes your hand around it tighter. A growl escapes his throat and he looks up at you with almost evil eyes.

“Still think size doesn’t matter, little one?” He questions, one eyebrow raising above the hemline of his mask.

Your mouth falls open in shock. Not only because of the sheer girth of Ghost’s cock pulsing in your hand but realizing that he was actually taking your proposal seriously no matter how aggressive his mockery of you was. It shouldn’t have been so damn surprising when taking into account just how large of a man Ghost is. Surely everything would be proportionate, and his erection was proof of it.

Your face is enough to make Ghost chuckle. “That’s what I thought…”

It’s enough of a dismissal that thaws your speechlessness and throws you right back into the present with enough of the guts to speak up for your own desires.

“I can do it,” You blurt breathlessly, fingers tracing along the curve of Ghost’s dick and earning a lusty growl from him. “I can make it good. I’ll make it fit.” You nod your head feverishly in an attempt to keep your chance open. Ghost’s eyes widen at your desperation and his cock twitches hard in your palm with the sound of your shallow breaths and pleading eyes.

“You want it, huh?” He questions, mask moving like he’s grinning under it.

“Then get on your fuckin’ knees.”

The moment his hands release you, you feel yourself sliding down the wall until your knees make a bruising thud against the concrete floor in front of Ghost. Your hands holding on his thighs without the slightest care that you were standing in the middle of a hotel breezeway where anyone could see you. A weight settled in your lower stomach with the idea of anyone coming out of their room and witnessing such a sight.

“My belt.” Ghost instructs a bit pinched, looking down at you with his chin almost touching his chest.

You’re frantic yet shaking as your hands slide up his thighs and begin pulling his belt loose, hearing that metallic clink as you pull the two sides apart with a watering mouth. No instruction is necessary for you to know where to go next, and as you unbutton his cargo pants, your free hand palms his cock as you pull down just enough of his waistband to expose him but not make him cold. Ghost’s hands help just a little, settling extra material where he prefers it, almost patiently holding up his own hoodie and t-shirt out of your way as you slid your hands under his boxers.

“Fuck…” Ghost mutters quietly, tensing when your fingers wrap around his base and free him from his underwear.

Your thumb smears over his swollen head soft enough to not make him jerk away with sensitivity, and you lick your lips at just how wet his cock already is from sheer anticipation. Hell, you were turned on too, practically dripping in your underwear at the sight of Ghost with nothing but a perfect dick exposed and ready for your mouth. The first lick is a teasing one. Flattening it over his head just because you couldn’t wait to taste him, gathering up his arousal, and making it a point to swallow with your eyes locked right on Ghost’s. You're certain it’s enough to affect him just by the way he grunts and rests both of his hands against the wall behind you to steady himself.

When your lips wrap around his tip and slide down towards his base slowly, you hollow your lips and suck hard. Almost mimicking drinking through a straw with both hands wrapped around his thick base to restrict blood flow, adding to his sensitivity. You feel his feet flex in his boots next to your thighs and another low grunt. It spurs you forward, sinking down further and massaging your tongue on the underside before raising back up to lick at his frenulum and repeating the process with quiet whines each time he’s unable to hold back some sound.

“Shit-” He hisses after no more than a couple of minutes, jerking his hips back away from you and moving your hands out of the way so he could tighten his own fist around his cock with a heaving chest.

He stays like that for a few moments, undoubtedly trying to stave off the pleasure you’d been giving before his eyes meet yours again and they’re downright hungry and raging with fury that you’d brought him so close without any extra fancy moves or those fake moans that porn always showed. With one quick movement, he stepped closer and tilted your head back until it gently rested against the wall behind you, his cock smearing your own spit and his arousal over your open and awaiting mouth.

“You look pretty like this…” He muttered, rubbing his length over your face and tapping it teasingly against your mouth. “You hungry for more?” You’re sticking out your tongue and nodding right away, earning you a tense chuckle and the feeling of Ghost’s dick sliding into your mouth while his hand cushions the back of your head from the wall.

“Let me feed it to ya,” He grunts. “Shove my fat cock in your mouth and fuck your throat..” He adds with a feral sort of sound mixing with an ever-thickening accent.

You moan around his length, feeling your jaw muscles begin to start aching when your nose just barely grazes his pubic bone and his tip touches the back of your throat. He’s thick enough to qualify as the largest you’ve ever experienced, but you’re not the slightest bit concerned about whether he’ll be able to fit. You know he’ll make it fit if nothing else.

And him utterly pounding your throat sounded so hot that you tried pushing further down on his shaft yourself. Eager to feel Ghost as deep in you as possible. Ghost obliges you, and rocks his hips forward slowly, easing his thick head past that ring of pressure at the back of your throat and cursing under his breath when a wet, gurgling sound vibrates around his shaft as you begin swallowing around him.

“Bloody, fuucckk yes…” His groans punch through the quiet air, far louder than he should be risking in such a public space. But he’s only getting started with this experience as your nose presses against his pubic bone, and his hand flattens against the wall.

“So tight… doggin’ me right where anyone can see.”

It’s the thought that had you so eager, and right away you felt just how much it turned Ghost on too. Because the second he said it, he pulled back just a fraction and pushed himself back down your throat, beginning tight and quick thrusts that made your eyes roll back. He kept a furious pace, growling and holding tight to the back of your head until you tapped at the back of his thigh a few times, and he pulled out with a loud grunt, giving you a moment to breathe. You panted, seeing a thick web of spit connecting your mouth and his tip before watching it break and drip down your shirt.

You’re about to tell Ghost… something. But you instantly lose thought of it when he’s bent down with his mask rucked up just far enough to smash his mouth to yours, shoving his tongue in your mouth and practically eating you from the inside out. You can still taste the salty edge of his skin, and it’s almost heady to have his mouth mingling with yours and sharing his arousal between soft moans and heavy breaths. The kiss is long and feverish, but not near long enough before he’s standing back up and stroking his fist up and down his cock right in front of you like an unreal kind of dream somehow coming to life.

“Please.” You mutter a bit hoarse from the rough treatment of your throat, totally unsure of what you really want most. Between his mouth, words, and dick there’s so much more than just one you desired, but at least one of them needed to be delivered to you to attempt satisfaction.

“Open up, little one…” Ghost whispers face re-masked already, and it makes you whine pathetically, having naively believed he’d allow you just one glimpse at the mouth you’d just tasted. “Need to have more of you.” You’re totally happy to resign by leaning your head back against the wall with your tongue wetting your lips in the cold air.

Ghost starts painfully slow, holding your head on both sides of your jaw and teasing his head against your tongue and the textured roof of your mouth; indiscernible words falling from his mouth and his eyes squeezed tightly shut. You would’ve thought it was nothing more than your Lieutenant just taking his pleasure as offered. But the way his thumbs brushed over your cheeks and his fingers would occasionally rub over the stretched muscles in your jaw gave you the feeling that he was well aware of what you were surrendering to him. As well as how thankful he was to have you on your knees, and looking so fucking angelic swallowing and spitting on his dick like a dirty little whore.

“Let me - Wanna…” His rising breaths and steady strokes begin to falter the longer he thrusts inside your mouth, meticulously avoiding forcing himself deeper in disappointment; resulting in your whining and muffled complaints and pleasure. Had his hands not been purposefully holding you back to prolong the session, Ghost probably wouldn’t have lasted this long.

“P-patience…” His stammer made your chest clench in satisfaction. “Don’t - don’t wanna finish in your mouth…”. That breathy comment nearly struck you stiff as concrete.

You couldn’t believe that after this entire ordeal, Ghost was actually trying to end a blowjob without you finishing it the way you honestly believed it should always end. With you swallowing every last fucking drop that the Lieutenant gave you; wearing a goddamn smile bigger than anyone has ever seen. If he hadn’t been lying and head never impressed him, there wasn’t a chance in Hell you were going to let him finish anywhere that wasn’t down your throat. In a split second, you were shaking your head no and pulling back off his cock with a slight gasp.

“No, finish.” It’s the most demanding and certain you’ve sounded all night. “Finish in my mouth, Ghost.”

His eyes say it all.

They’re wide with his pupils blown at impressive dimensions and his thick eyelashes flutter as his shocked expression forces him to blink over and over again to make sense of you. Mouth and chin covered in spit, on your knees, and literally begging him to come in your mouth.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking filthy…” He mutters aloud, watching intently as you slide back down over him one more time and begin doing what you wanted to from the very beginning.

Bring Ghost to his knees.

It’s a moment before you have him cursing and holding onto the wall with both hands again as you push deeper and deeper until you're teasing the tip of your nose against him yet again. Unwilling to let him pull you off this time or prolong this. Deserving this release was the bare minimum. Not only did you want to provide him ultimate pleasure where no one else had, but you enjoyed every single bit of it. You needed this as much -if not more- than Ghost.

Heavy and twitching in your mouth, Ghost was teetering on the edge of his orgasm with stuttering hips and one hand sliding down to rest on your head. Not pushing this time, just laying at the crown like your movements were too much to feel with only one part of his body. Short pants were cut short by unintelligible words and strained attempts to say what you already knew.

As if giving your final approval of the idea Ghost had found unacceptable, you push him as deep as you could one final time; Hearing his loud shout echo down the breezeway as both of his hands grabbed harshly onto the sides of your head. Pumping stream after stream of his hot release down your throat you moaned deeply, feeling him gently rock his hips against your face as he rode down his high on shaky legs. You gagged a little as he pulled out, feeling your throat begin to burn in an unfamiliar way that had never followed you sharing a moment like this with another man. Only one look at Ghost’s cock right in front of your face was more than enough to reassure you he’d just been the one who gave you enough of a delicious stretch to feel for days to come.

Your eyes met his and a small little shy smile crossed your sore lips, contrasting the absolutely deplorable -and punishable- act you’d ever committed with a superior officer. Wordlessly Ghost tucked himself back into his underwear and neglected to button his pants back up before dropping to a knee right in front of you and pulling up his mask again to brush his lips against yours.

“Want to taste,” He whispered ever-so-softly, hands holding your head gently.

“Need to taste me inside your mouth.” He added, licking your lips before closing the distance between you for a second time. This kiss was still intense. Ghost controlling the pace and just how much dominance you had, which nearly came to zero when he licked into your mouth, groaning shamelessly. He could taste his release coating your mouth as he utterly overwhelmed you with kisses, licks, bites, and more moans that fell like honey on your ears.

You were the first to pull back for a gasp of air you’d gone full minutes without, feeling your own mouth and body beginning to feel a little weak with exhaustion not typical of a well-conditioned soldier like yourself. Your Lieutenant took note right away and rested his head against yours reassuringly, his nose touching yours.

“You’re too cold to be out here like this.” He whispered, pulling your cheek affectionately and wrapping the other arm around you. “Not gonna let you freeze after that.” He chuckled a bit sluggishly, kissing you again long and chaste.

He pulled his mask back down and gave very little effort to pick you up off your knees and into his arms without question or hesitation. Leaving you feeling like a treasured prize he’d won and refused to let out of his sight for more than a moment. Safe and protected, you couldn’t care one bit about the cold nipping through your thin clothes and resting your head against Ghost’s shoulder as he carried you back to the hotel room the 141 had already retired for the night in.

Expertly avoiding Soap and Gaz laying on couch cushions on the floor and covered with extra bedsheets, sliding around Price’s bed without bumping it, all while carrying you Ghost sat you down on the edge of the bed he’d been keen to claim as his own right when you’d arrived. You were nearly asleep just sitting there when he unlaced your boots enough to tug them off, pulled your shirt off over your head, and replaced it with one of his hoodies. Finally, he takes off your pants and nods for you to move up to the top of the bed, acting just as he would normally. But as he climbed into the bed next to you and tugged you back against him tightly, you realized you’d gotten a lot more than you bargained for.

Sure you might’ve changed Ghost’s mind about getting head… but you weren’t finished yet. Because Ghost was curling his arm around your waist and burying his masked face in between your shoulder blades like cuddling with you at night was the usual way of things. His fingers innocently traced the waistband of your underwear, and he radiated body heat that melted away the fringe sensations of cold on your body easily.

“I’ve made a decision,” He whispers very quietly so as not to wake the others. And you wiggle back a little closer to him, nodding your head as a silent acknowledgment for him to go on. Expecting him to say that you did -in fact- change his mind about getting blown.

“You’re mine now.”

Comments & Reblogs are Appreciated

[prael]

Touch

Kinktember Day 9: Spa

Newjeans Danielle x male reader smut

words: 7,422 Kinktember Masterlist

"My client, did you see her come in?" you ask.

"No, why? Is she famous or something?"

"Well, that would explain the secrecy, and it would also explain a woman barely twenty having cash to burn at a place like this," you whisper to the colleague who is far too jealous of how you just got requested by name because that usually means big tips for a good service.

"Did you get her name?"

"Supposed to be a secret." Your answer dissatisfies her, and she throws you a side-eye. "Okay. Okay. Danielle something... Marsh?"

"Shut up!" She hits you on the shoulder. "No fucking way. Let me take this one and you can have my next ten VIP bookings."

"Sorry, but she asked for me by name," you tell her. She mutters an obscenity under her breath. "Want to tell me what I'm getting into here?"

And then the girl spews out a jumble of ramblings about K-pop this and K-pop that—the kind of reaction that only the truly obsessed can have. Millions of views on this, charting on that, really fucking popular is the gist of it. So basically the whole planet Earth knows who this Danielle is. Well, shit. No pressure or anything. "Get in there already, do your best work and maybe get me an autograph."

A few forceful pushes out of the staff room and you find Danielle where you left her, her cleansing mask still on her face, sitting in that long white robe. You step barefoot over the soft wood, heat rising from underneath it.

As you draw near, you ask, "Miss Marsh, are we ready to begin?"

"Dani, please," her voice says from beneath the mask. It's hard not to be intimated after being hit with the fact that the woman before you is world-renowned. Though from here, she looks like any other delicate young woman. Her feet are small. Bare, tiny and arched, they hang just a few inches from the floor, and they are as perfectly still as the rest of her. "No need to be formal, I'm here to relax."

"Then let me start by offering you a drink." The bottle pops as you twist it. The label is adorned in cursive. "Bottled at source, premium mineral water." Your arm raises the bottle so she can see the brand clearly.

"Is it magical water?" There is a playful lilt in her voice, "Maybe it has some healing powers?"

"Guaranteed to nourish the soul and unclog those emotional pores," you deadpan.

The facemask stretches with Dani's wide smile, and she lightly chuckles. "That's good, laughter is good for the soul."

"Right." You pour from a height and a theatrical stream flows. When the flute is halfway, you stop the flow and pass it to her hands, which take it gently.

"What? You don't even hold the glass for me? Put it to my lips and tilt?" It's another tease, the joke stretching on her grin, but now it is her hands holding the flute, her fingers long and smooth around the stem.

"I serve, not control."

"Those don't have to always be exclusive." She laughs, and the sound makes you feel something. "But I appreciate the intention. I hear you're the best in the business."

"I'll let you be the judge, Miss Marsh. Now, allow me to remove that mask. I have raised the temperature in here to help open the pores, and I would like to begin with a facial."

"I do love a facial." Danielle smiles to herself. "And again, please, just Dani is fine."

You step over behind her, where her head tilts back against the chair, her long hair cascading below, shimmering in the moist air. Lightly, you place the tips of your fingers along her jawline, finding the edge of the mask and gently lifting it upwards. She doesn't flinch at all, and you watch the wet mask give way to her face. Even upside down, Danielle is indeed beautiful.

With her sun-kissed hair, radiant skin, and effortless, elegant beauty. She is, in summation of all her parts: perfect. The image the word calls up has always been fuzzy around the edges, an abstract idea more than a specific concrete thing, because real people aren't like this. That's what you believed until you laid eyes on her.

"You take good care of your skin, Miss—Sorry—Dani."

"Thank you," she says simply, no joke this time. Your fingers ghost over her chin and then trace to her cheekbones, moving lightly to test her texture, all so smooth.

"First, I shall cleanse away any impurities," you say and lean down to examine her face. Even when you are so close, there is nothing for your scrutiny—no visible crevice, no blemishes, despite there being not a trace of make-up. It's all-natural.

There's a light whisper on her lips, one that you barely make out, "Good luck with that."

You tilt your head as you reach over for a fresh sponge, run it under hot water until it is filled, squeeze out the excess, and slowly drag a path of heat across her forehead. As your other hand holds the sheet over her neck to catch stray water, your first-hand works in large strokes from above, rinsing her skin with each successive pass.

As you focus, she leans back into the chair, and a soft hum escapes her lips. "Feels nice already," she murmurs.

You say nothing, working her in silence. Her eyelids are closed, her lips slightly parted, and she remains so still that, if not for the sound of her breaths, she could be easily mistaken as unconscious. This silence has a tranquillity and familiarity to it, one that feels like home, and without thinking, you are smiling.

She stays just the same as you begin to exfoliate her, brushing across her face in ever-widening circles. It's with such tenderness that her cheeks take a pink tint as she grows hotter and she smiles as you rub in gentle swirls, one spot, then the next.

Time passes in silence as you finish the exfoliation and apply all manner of natural, topical lotions, toners, and peels to Dani. When her skin is primed, you press your fingers against her skin and, starting at her forehead, you massage her face to a rhythm of long, soothing strokes. You enjoy touching her, you admit, which isn't exactly right for a professional, but since you have no outward reaction from her, you assume it isn't the end of the world.

Throughout it all, she keeps her eyes shut. Over time you move around her face, applying more pressure in some spots than others. She shifts and sighs, soft exhalations of her warm breath tickling your arm, yet otherwise doesn't move an inch. Her shoulders relax against the leather of the seat. "You really know what you're doing," she says, with a smirk. You pull her skin with your fingertips, moving them in large circles as it comes to an end. Finally, you tap your fingers gently over her skin to soothe.

"Now, your body, Dani."

Her eyes crack open, but slowly. "Are we moving?"

"I'll wash your skin over there, but the massage will be in the next room. Now, I'll need you to—"

Dani doesn't let you finish your sentence before she rocks forward in her seat and pushes herself to a stand. She's facing away from you and puts her hands in front of her, then she throws the robe back off her shoulders and lets it slide off her arms to the floor in one quick motion.

"Good," she says. "I was for too hot in that thing anyway."

Of course, as a professional, you would never gasp in surprise, yet, at the sight of her ass, the muscles tight, small, and round, the curves of her waist so thin, hair over her shoulders threatening to hide her slender back and those long slim legs, you manage to just barely gulp.

Too hot, she certainly is, you want to tell her and not just in the sense that perspiration coats her skin. Tiny beads of sweat that, as your eyes crawl over her, are in the process of running downwards. This glistening on her flesh is hypnotic. The curve of her ass, the slight tilt of her hips forward, the way the base of her spine leads downward, right down to a crack between her—

Focus. You remind yourself you have a job to do.

"In the far corner. The stone pool. Please, stand by the edge." It takes a second before Dani's head bobs, and then she slinks forward, slow and catlike. Her stride, and every motion of her muscles beneath her flesh that accompanies it, are mesmerising. And with every sway of her hips, you love her tight body more.

She pauses, a foot by the edge, and looks down into the water. Steam rises and envelops her form in a pale white that hugs her curves.

"Please, step in," you say as you walk over to her side and take her hand. Now, you catch a glimpse of her profile, and her chest, small, round and perky, and as you avert your eyes to guide her down the step, you tell her, "Watch your step now, go from stone to stone until you stand in the middle just there."

"Got it," Dani says. She steps with confidence and the hot water reaches quickly above her ankles and then halfway up her calves. With each careful move down the next step she gasps, soft and light. The water splashes with her movement and then swallows her up to the upper thigh.

"Please, take a seat there, on the wide stone." You reach to help steady her as she sinks down, her knees bending as she perches down so the water is at her hips as she sits.

"I just sit?"

"Yes, Dani, and I will bathe you." You step into the pool until the hot flowing water covers your knees, and then you stand behind her. You reach for a sponge, submerge it, and watch it fill, then draw it out and over her lower back and drag a large circle across her soft skin. "How's the water? Feel okay?"

"Great. Wow." She goes quiet as you work up and down her back, long, relaxing, soothing strokes until all the tension has left her shoulders. "That's wonderful," she says.

You clean her shoulders and then down her arms, the sponge dipping under the surface, and caressing her in a movement that feels like worship. With a slow rhythm, you run the sponge over her shoulders and around her neck, and finally, reaching over her, down to her chest. She shifts back as you do, resting herself against your legs. You run it over her chest a few times before coming up again to her shoulders.

"So soft..." her voice says, almost a breathy moan, and you catch a hint of it. Maybe she realises how it sounds because she soon goes quiet. Next, you work downwards, to her tight, toned stomach. Slowly you make sure you cleanse every part of her body. All while her back rests on you and her breathing is warm and pleasant.

"Miss, I mean Dani, can you stand now? We need to get you clean." You prompt, a hand on her shoulder.

"Sure." Dani snaps out of it. She stretches and cracks her neck before rising, leaning forward for a moment. When she rises, ripples run out in all directions and your eyes drift over her ass. It looks plump, perky, perfect. Then you sponge it, giving purpose to your stare. You push it down, over her cheeks and Dani shivers.

You repeat your slow, languid movements. Wipe away any trace of imperfection from her hips and thighs and then when you make her slowly step out of the pool, you work down her bit by bit. Finally, she stands on the edge of the pool, looking down at you, towering over you in her naked glory. She presents to you her foot and you hold her ankle to steady it and clean each digit, scrubbing between the toes.

"You can take the towel, on the peg, Dani."

"You do it." Dani doesn't move at all, keeping her eyes on you, staring into your eyes and through you.

You cautiously nod and then climb from the pool. You keep eye contact and wrap the towel around her small, wet frame. In your arms, she feels so fragile. You rub her down, first her legs. Long strokes, left and right. Each, in turn, both legs. Then you bring the towel up. When you wrap it over her hip and move upwards along her torso, Dani presses herself to you.

"You really know how to put someone at ease," she mutters.

You nod silently in return, and finish drying her shoulders, down her arms, back up, and down her back. You remain stoic as the heat between you builds, and she turns around without prompting. You wrap her again and bring the towel all the way down. Then over her rear. Soft, short circular motions with your palm.

"The table in the next room, Dani. Start by lying on your front, you can use the towel on the table to cover yourself. Once I see you settled in, I'll join you."

She laughs quietly and starts her slow walk to the door. You take your own towel, drying your legs, the water has soaked into the front of your shorts from where she leant against you.

She's on the bed. The towel, provided for her decency, is in a pile on the floor.

"Dani, the towel..."

"I'm fine, I want it off. I want everything off. Is that a problem for you?" There's this undeniably confident quality to her like the universe just has to be as it is because she likes it that way.

"Not a problem," you tell her. "It does tend to get in the way."

You're close to the bed now, looking down at her, still so perfectly nude. So vulnerable and relaxed, and not a drop of shame in her eyes. She gives you a look that says she's in charge, and that she's been waiting for this, and now it's finally going to happen. And that smile is impossible to refuse. "You could join me if it helps. Make it feel more like an equal partnership."

"Miss— I—"

"I'm joking," she winks. Danielle bunches her hair by her head and turns her head to the side as she rests.

The first of your oils, imported, rich and infused, drip with a consistency thick as honey over her. You watch it roll from the top of her back and run down her spine. Its warmth makes her twitch gently.

Slowly you reach out, press your hands into her skin and drag them from top to bottom, following the oil, making sure you cover her.

She hums in delight.

With great care, you begin your work. Fingers sink in, and your thumbs feel her muscles. Stroking and rubbing, from the top of her back, your fingers coax and prod at the flesh beneath. Pressing it back and forth, at times as gentle as a summer breeze and then as hard as a hammer.

There are knots in her back, beneath the tender surface. You find them easily and work at them to relax, coax them into submission, untying the muscles until they go soft. She gasps at your touch as you release them. Her body responds to you in the sweetest ways. With the smallest of whispers, the little fluttering breaths, and with her skin taking on a pink glow.

When the last knot goes soft, she writhes in response, and a content, relaxed murmur comes out of her.

"Oh god, that's it, don't stop," she says, the first words to come from her for a while.

"You were very tight." You reach across, add a small amount of more oil and start working back upwards. One stroke at a time. Up her neck. Over her shoulders. She trembles when you go deep into her flesh and reaches out to grasp at something, anything, and finds the edge of the table, holding herself steady. Her arms now, you lift them one by one, prying them from her grip and then holding and rubbing and pulling to coax the stiffness out.

Oil over her legs, next. Slowly you run your hands over the outside and inside and rub them into her skin, kneading it into her. Danielle keeps her mouth firmly shut the whole time. No jokes. Nothing funny. You lean down to her, focusing on her thigh that refuses to let go. Bending down, you push into her. As you feel her tension drain, you are rewarded with another quiet hiss.

You place the oil upon her feet and work it into her soles with a finger, an instant trigger, she cackles as her foot recoils at your touch. "Sorry, that's a bit ticklish," she tells you, apologetically.

Her feet go still and she inhales deeply as you set back to your task, much to the quiet amusement of Danielle. It's the slowest you have ever worked on a client, with long, dragging strokes to make sure she really enjoys it. Each is careful, so careful, to pull and tease. "Keep working it all the way up, all the way up my legs," she orders, quietly. "Nice and slow. Can you do that?"

You agree.

You hear Danielle sigh as you move your hands slowly up her calf. So soft and firm at the same time as she breathes so gently. A trace of laughter, an easy smile. You work her in the same manner, up her thigh, as slow and relaxing as before, massaging deep and heavy. Danielle begins to roll her hips as you grip the flesh at the top of her thighs and dig in.

"Higher, please, just for me." Danielle makes a little hum to accompany the instruction. You obey, knowing where this is leading. You take the oil, and let it pour lightly onto the peak of her cheek, it threatens to roll away so you capture it in your palm, a firm squeeze of her rear, a spread of oily warmth. She shivers and pushes up her hips in silent encouragement.

Your hands trail along, smooth and oily, each touch brings more shivers. Her legs part slightly, a slow squirm of her hips. Your fingers glide on her tight, round cheeks; running across, back and forth as she breathes deep. You press deeper with each sweep and listen as her gasps become a little louder, and her body moves a little more. She bends her arm, reaching back, as you watch it shake. Her nails claw onto the side of the bed.

The more you tease her with your touch, the harder she grips and the more she parts her legs. You've known the perfection of her body, just by seeing it, but this feeling confirms it.

Your hand wanders with long, oily strokes as you glide up her back, tracing the curves of her slim back up, all the way to her neck. There, you hold her as you lean in. "You can turn over now. Let's work out your front," you say, and Dani nods in agreement.

She smiles, though she remains silent, slowly, with such care, turning onto her side, then twisting to face you, her face flush, eyes drowsy, her mouth agape. She rests upon her back, arms by her sides, legs flat against the bed, open, as you gaze into her eyes.

You apply the oil with long slow strokes down her stomach, feeling her as she flinches, watching the dimples at her waist appear then vanish with her body's twists, with every flexing of her muscles. When you trace up, her flat, beautiful chest, and slowly slide a finger beneath her small pert breast, Dani takes a deep, quick, raspy breath, then says, "They didn't lie when the reviews said you have the best hands in the world."

Your oil-covered thumbs graze upon her nipple, soft at first, gentle in pressure, but this becomes firmer, building and rising, faster. Round and round it swirls, and this delight sends Danielle's breath to hitches and sharp, shallow pants. As she squirms in delight, her legs twist, rubbing and clenching. Her teeth bite down on her lips. The flesh of her body glistens.

One hand reaches, down a thigh then back up, across her stomach and down the other. Repeated in pattern as the other thumb never ceases on her pert nipple. Dani's eyes go blank as your touch continues, circling, teasing, stroking and grabbing. Her body responds and you are delighted to witness every tremor and gasp as it arches. And finally, for the first time, a full-blooded moan rings free.

Your hand goes lower. Deeper into the pit of her thigh as she spreads her legs wide. You seek out the inevitable and when you reach her crotch, you watch her tense up. And when the touch slides between her pussy's folds, and against her clit, there's an immediate reaction, her body jumping as you make the slightest flick of motion with your middle finger. You lift and let a trail of oil roll down her slit and back down to her rear.

"I wasn't really joking before," she gasps. "You should be naked. It would make this whole experience better." Dani tilts her head, fixes her drowsy gaze onto you, and holds the stare for what feels like a hundred heartbeats. "Don't you think that's fair? The way things are going?"

You hold the eye contact and consider this, a sudden lump in your throat making any immediate reply a struggle. Her eyes don't move from yours. Even her chest barely heaves with her short, fast panting.

"Go on, I want you naked. I'm going to feel so, so empty otherwise..."

That's all it takes.

How could you deny her?

Your hands, still covered in the hot oil, reach for the buttons at your collar. You slip them in order from the top and release one after another. Danielle's lips twitch, and her teeth rake them to a shine. Your clothing drops to the floor. Bared. It feels so wrong, and unprofessional, yet Dani looks on and gapes with a hungry, dark delight.

"Nervous now?" Her eyebrow twitches up.

"Never," you bluff.

Danielle's mouth stays open wide, and her breaths get caught and flicker as your touch returns to the same spot as before. Gentle, light touches flutter with your fingertips, drawing the tips of your fingers back and forth, back and forth, over her clit. You watch as her eyes widen, how her legs straighten out and she starts to kick her feet with the faintest hint of frustration as you tease.

"I paid for a deep massage." She emphasises the adjective, dragging the syllable out like a whine. "This teasing is bad for my heart," she whispers.

Her arm rises, then reaches for your chest and trails its way downward. The pressure of her finger, nails lightly scratching at your skin, trailing down to the waistline and then she wraps her slender fingers around you. It's hard. Incredibly so.

"And I'll show you how generous I can be with a tip."

She licks her lips slowly and sensually as her eyes meet yours with a mischievous gleam.

You grunt, pressing down with your fingertip, and then without a second thought, push it inside of her. Danielle throws her head back in silent bliss.

"Holy shit," she mumbles in a muffled, muted moan. "Don't hold back." You circle inside her slowly with one finger, letting the oil's moisture guide you. Then, adding a second digit, you delve back into her, pushing in deep and making sure she can feel it all the way inside as the palm of your hand pushes against her crotch.

Dani rolls her head to one side as you work, staring you right in the eyes and biting down on her lip as she throbs and you press down inside of her, moving in all sorts of subtle directions that are impossible for her to guess. With that, she moans again and there's a little grunt from deep within her. Her fist twists around you and she gets bolder with her touch.

You build it into some sort of rhythm and she moves, each time, reacting so well with your own thrusts. When she's relaxed enough for it, you introduce another finger.

"I— You can— Go a little bit faster," she pleas. Stretched wider, Dani starts to grow even more restless. This time, instead of small, languid strokes, your whole hand works, fingers rubbing and swirling, thumb finding her clit to massage it with purpose, building, always building, until she is shuddering under you, every single time, tensing and twitching with every change in direction.

"Come on—more," she pleads, bucking up against your hand, so slick with arousal.

She's barely jerking your cock, not even intentionally, just the jolts through her body causing the occasional twist of her grip or slide of her palm. You let it just rest in the loose curl of her grip and focus on doing what she commands, twisting your hand, gripping and stroking, tugging in circles and holding inside. The quivering gets worse and worse. And her breath grows heavier.

You keep working her relentlessly, as she squeals a drawn-out curse. Dani nearly loses control. She grips you hard, tightens her fist around you in spasm, a pained wince on her face, as she curls her toes so hard.

"Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop." It's the only thing she says, no jokes, no banter, as her eyes roll back, mouth agape as if the wind's been knocked from her, and a final, body-length spasm overtakes her. Her whole body. Back arched off the table, eyes pinched shut. It lasts for the longest time, almost impossible to sustain, you watch with an odd mix of terror and wonder. Her hair is a mess. Her naked, stretched-out limbs, glisten in the warm light.

It takes her a good half minute to fall back down, her lungs now sucking in the air as if there were none at all. One leg quivers. Her breaths slow, her eyes open again and you're holding her stare, her cheeks a faint scarlet, strands of hair plastered across her forehead.

More oil. More rubbing. From tension to relaxation again. Slowly she softens and you turn her whole body limp beneath your hands. All while you barely manage to hold yourself back from ravishing her. She keeps her eyes fixed upon you, so you force a smile, ignoring the ache clenched in her fist. You could kiss those lips, right now. Taste them. How soft and smooth would she feel pressed against you? What noises would come out of her?

You'd be forgiven for letting your imagination run wild with desire, but not forgiven for taking this service in any direction that Danielle didn't command.

She watches your thoughts as they float by, and seems to be considering the same. Then she smirks, and just with a look, reassures you that it's going to happen, and it's going to happen just exactly the way she wants it.

You're working your slick hands over her midriff, and have been for a minute or two, waiting for instruction. You work slightly up her body, perilously close to taking some initiative, but then she speaks, "That was... unexpected."

"Was it? Seemed to be your plan all along."

"Planned to tease. Planned to be touched. But did not expect it to be that good." She shakes her head softly, her cheek touching her shoulder as she stares with a fuzzy, dreamy look that is impossible to decipher. She has a cute, beautiful way of pouting her lips that's fascinating, you're struck still, hypnotised by the sight and the motion. "A few more would be perfect."

"You have me booked for another hour, and the client gets what the client wants."

Dani laughs. A light, melodious chime. "I know what I want," she tells you, gently rocking her palm over your cock. "I'm incredibly hard to fully satisfy, you better get to work."

Dani releases you from her grasp, and turns back over to her front, stretching out once more and looking back at you over her shoulder, holding a stare as she parts her legs. This stare could kill a man if his heart were too weak, and though your heartbeat quickens, your mind focuses on your purpose.

Your hands glide over her oil-coated thighs, wet and glistening. Dani rests her head back down and you are unable to stop your gaze from wandering along her spine, the gentle dimple above her ass, the two tight round cheeks below and the line bisecting between them. Up over her ass, you caress, then you slip and stroke in the valley, this, she clearly enjoys, judging from how her butt rises to greet your touch, her hips rolling once more.

Lower now. Lower and lower, until once again, your finger meets her lower lips and she hisses an inwards breath and tenses. Her body is so reactive to every touch. It makes this so easy, so rewarding, so deeply arousing. You are confident you can build her up, high, and crash her down in waves, for hours, until the sun breaks.

Two fingers again, to begin, that same twist and swirl to coax her towards delirium. Her quiet huffs and suppressed moans fill the air. With a heavy push, you dive in deeper, to watch as her whole body, muscle by muscle, starts to become lost in the sensation. And when you curl your fingers down and grind the heel of your hand over her clit, Dani absolutely loses it. She bites the sheets, body tight, hands trying to grab the far edge of the bed to give something to hold onto.

Her feet kick uselessly and a series of incomprehensible phrases fill her breath and break apart on the way out of her. Though you don't quite understand them, you grasp the meaning. This is what she wants you to do right now, to see how high you can bring her.

Her whole body starts trembling again. Tingling, quivering, shivering. It's one constant shake and her moans are louder, and longer. She struggles to breathe out a scream. Sweat begins to mix in the oil, and she lets out another unintelligible mess of words as you pull away. Dani collapses back into a quivering heap, gasping for air and stretching her hands out as if reaching out to the void, reaching out, grasping for something in the dark.

She lies there, spent, breathing deep. Her entire body is hot and burning as her muscles relax. Each breath is a moan, and her thighs clamp tightly together as if the feeling of nothing after being so worked up is torturous to endure.

Your fingers are soaked in her creamy fluids, it drips down onto the bed below. Yet somehow, this isn't over. No. There's a single goal, right in the back of your mind, that's never stopped clawing. If only you could taste her. Sink your face between her firm ass cheeks and tease her with your tongue and suck and devour her, the entirety of her.

Maybe you could ask. Or maybe you could just start kissing her lower back, your nose rubbing against her tailbone, working to the left, towards her hip and tease, trailing your lips ever lower to a spot just over the peak of her butt, until she wants your tongue to dive right in.

The thought is interrupted by her blessing, "Again. Another. However you want," her words stumble upon each other, a raspy, spent quality to her. "Whatever you want."

You kneel at the very end of the bed, lean over and take her hips and you lift them up with an abrupt strength that earns her immediate interest, judging by her sudden gasp. You put her on her knees, ass in the air. Beneath it, her lips shine and spread. You're going to drown in her. You lean over, planting kisses along her body until they land right where your fingers had been, right along her soaked pussy.

The taste is so sweet. Dani whimpers as her body twitches. Your lips part her, and your tongue stretches and laps her up with an unshakeable excitement. Dani tastes amazing, like every inch of her, hot and rich and so unbelievably delicate. She is desire—concentrated and distilled into the female form. Your mouth descends, kissing every tiny spot you can reach, your lips closing, sucking the sticky warmth into your mouth. You might spend the rest of eternity here, savouring her juices.

Each rough lick gives Dani a small burst of pleasure. This is perhaps not the most elegant approach, but you wouldn't dream of stopping and so you continue, over and over, eager to return Dani to her previous, tranced bliss. So wet and sweet and smooth as velvet, your tongue flattens over her clit.

Dani cums twice like this. Ass in the air, your face in her cunt, two more delicious releases and you lap up both. They come accompanied by Dani's musical screams and moans and swearing and mumbles and complete incoherence. Every part of her body tenses. Every movement becomes forced, with less control, until every part of her, quivering and shaking, is taken by a rapture. Her throat chokes off her moans and breathy whimpers, and then she becomes lost for a time, struggling to remember to breathe, caught up in the overwhelming, and unstoppable waves.

"Enough, enough," Dani chokes out, and so you stand back, watching as she twists back into a flat position on her back again, her hips shaking with the effort. She trembles for a while longer before lying perfectly still on the table. As you gaze at her, she still appears ethereal, unattainable. She gazes up at you with lidded eyes and the drowsy content smile that rests upon her lips—she is a goddess. Even after all those body-racking orgasms, she settles into that same elegant grace that makes you question what makes her mortal.

Dani raises a hand and curls a beckoning finger, "Come here."

And you come to her, to her smile that draws you in, a moth to a flame and the moth will burn, not the flame, it will never tire, it will consume anything. She takes you in her hand, hard and throbbing under her delicate touch, and yet so helpless against it. With a pull, Dani draws you in—to consume.

She parts those pretty, pink, curled lips and then looks up into your eyes and sighs as her warm breath runs across your length. Danielle curls her tongue to the underside of your head and engulfs it. She doesn't raise her head from where it rests, instead making you clamber up to her, so you put a knee on the wooden frame and a hand next to her shoulder. The heat grows, and Dani is swirling her tongue over your tip, making you twitch and throb in her grasp, a slave to her touch.

You're pushing forward, leaning over her, as her mouth opens wide and lets you in, then, all at once, tightens. Her tongue and lips stretch around your thickness and then enclose you, sealing tight. She makes a point of looking you in the eye, holding your stare, a curl at the corner of her mouth that only further sets a tremble to your loins. She pulls, slow, agonising and without hurry, her mouth holds tight and sucks back.

You pull out of her, an inch, and she stays clamped tight and as she draws away, she uses the time to slowly slide her tongue along and around your crown and against the sensitive underside. Once Danielle has pulled right off with a wet smack, the warmth of her breath covers your cock once more. She flicks her tongue against your tip, first as a long, sweeping, lingering brush, then a rapid flick that teases.

"Dani, fuck," you groan.

"That's the idea," she whispers, right against you, her warm, panting breath driving you crazy, her own burning desire barely contained. "Get down there and do me. Right now."

Then, in one fluid movement, her hands find her legs. She grips behind her knees and pulls her thighs up and back. She spreads her legs wide, with her feet in the air.

"Fuck me. I mean it," she states firmly, fixing you with that stern gaze. Her words send a flaming arrow directly to light the most basic of your instincts.

She has presented everything to you and wants to give even more. You can think of nothing else but ploughing her into the table until your vision fades to white. It takes only seconds and you find yourself over her, between those slim legs. You put a hand on each thigh and spread her.

Cock bearing down on her leaking cunt, you lower your body until she has all of your weight on top of her. Her hips squirm under your pressure, and she drags your arm tighter around herself until she finds exactly what she's been looking for. A rub between her folds as your length slips against her, up and down.

"Mmm, yes," she giggles, "put it in, all of it."

In an almost unconscious action, you place the head of your cock against her opening. Her wetness provides no friction, and Dani uses her nails to scratch your back impatiently. Slowly you flex forward. Every inch. So warm, so fucking hot. Tighter than anything.

"Oh, yes," is all Dani has to say as her breath cuts short. You feel the intense squeeze, you have no doubt this is a step beyond the pleasure your fingers gave her, and her entire body tightens, and she pulls you in, deep and full. Her eyes grow wide and her fingers dig into you as you draw back and drive in once more.

Another moan, her pitch gets deeper, this one drawn out from her very core. You hear it right in her chest, from the depth of her lungs, before it squeals free, right into your ear. "Worth every penny." Her words are thick and drawled, hard to make out, she can't seem to decide whether she wants to open her mouth or close it and keep it shut.

She wraps her arms tight around your neck and pulls you in deeper, you push her legs higher, folding her body up and it only makes things tighter, a thrill she clearly relishes.

You roll forward, holding her close to you, giving you a better purchase with her feet held up so high. Dani groans as you bite and suck at the soft skin along her neck. Your thrusts are still slow, so damnably slow. You push, and fill, and wait. Over and over, it's a cruel torment to both of you.

"Ah, come on. Give it to me, hard," Dani says, raking nails on your neck. She turns her head. Finds your mouth. Seals her lips against yours. Teeth nibble and then her tongue penetrates your mouth. Her hips start to rise and drop. Her sex grabs at you, pleading to pound her.

So you let go of your iron self-restraint and fuck her. Fuck her good.

Your tempo grows more powerful. Her walls squeeze and pull and writhe with a desperate need. It's tight, so, so tight, the way she envelops you, the slick warmth around you. Each stroke sends a shudder through her. Another ripple follows and with it, her high, pitchy wails. Dani's never been so loud, so demanding that her pleasure be delivered.

Number five is close, you can feel her body going rigid, the quivering, twitching, curling of her toes, the growing tension, you go faster, a force building within, trying to rush her to the inevitable. Dani screams, moaning incoherently, her eyes screw tight as you throw yourself into her with such ferocity, like an animal, with no regard for pace, or rhythm. Pure, unrelenting pleasure.

She grips so hard on your shoulder, and then her other hand goes back, over her head, gripping the edge of the table in white-knuckled desperation. "I'm... cumming," Dani spits through a clenched jaw, unable to even form her tongue around the word.

Her orgasm feels more powerful this time, so much more; it flows through her and you can't help but stare. Watching the way the pink blossom blooms on her face and how the rest of her pales. One orgasm into another, you think, it's difficult to discern. You're in no rush. No race. Instead, you delight in the absolute loss of control you see in Danielle's face and you feed off it.

Her mouth forms a soundless scream and she reaches up and sinks her nails into your chest and drags them across, not breaking the skin, but hard enough to leave marks. It feels amazing. All the more so watching Danielle break herself, willingly.

"Holy shit..." Danielle pants then sucks air into her empty lungs.

Her little, flexible body, pinned beneath yours, seems incapable of even the tiniest motion, save the trembles.

Through gritted teeth, she says, "I want— I want a facial. My face. Cum."

This is the single sexiest thing she could have possibly said at that moment. For all the time you've spent watching that pretty doll-like face contort in a hundred different ways, you want nothing more than to see it coated with your lust. To paint every last bit of that sweetness on her lips, on her cheeks—everywhere. To witness that brief moment, after climax where she is confused and awash with bliss and trying to remember how to breathe, and it's interrupted by a load of your cum. You want it.

You round the table, standing over her head, lowering down and watching her eyes spark with anticipation. Danielle knows how bad you want it, how close it is, and you watch, enraptured by the way she tilts her head up and licks her lips. Her little, eager tongue.

Dani wraps her fingers around you and strokes and pumps fast, pulling, urging you to completion, teasing you to spill over her, onto those pretty, dainty features. Your skin feels alive, like static and pinpricks and pure lightning, like your nerves have come to the surface. Pent-up energy coils low, threatening to snap. You cannot resist her anymore.

It all unfurls in a glorious, explosive instant. Blinding. A shiver climbs up your spine, spreading to every limb in one long spasm. A long, raw growl in your throat as you shoot thick and hard, some on her face, and some overshooting onto her chest. Dani gasps a cute little "Oh" and then starts to giggle as the second rope lands right over her perfect little features. And then another, this time across the bridge of her nose and her cheek and down her lips. Her tongue collects whatever it can.

Dani's small hand keeps a hard grip and keeps coaxing, even as you feel like you have nothing to give, with it all painting her face, still, she jerks up and down, until you are empty, trembling and drained. Still, she goes, forcing you through painful shivers, laughing the whole time until the pain becomes too much, and your hands take hers and pull.

You prop yourself against the table, looking down at the mess you made. Dani's happily laughing to herself, licking up what she can. "You'll need to clean me again now, won't you? Sponge away all your dirty filth," she giggles.

Her giggle is intoxicating. Loving. It warms you right through. You wish you could bottle up her laughter.

"Need a minute," you grunt, and there's so much pride on her cum-strewn face.

"Aw, need time for recovery?" Dani quips. "I'll just lay here, all messy and defiled. Waiting to be tended to. Enjoy the sight of me, of your filthy cum all over my sweet, innocent face, until you get the strength to lift me. Really, don't rush, I love this feeling."

[ozzgin]

Santa baby are you really there?!

*hears a voice in my backyard*

FUCK SKIN WALKER

- you make Yan skinwalker i’ll do anything to get a skin walker to love me … yes I am 100% mentally stable

I'm not sure if you had something horror-esque in mind, because my immediate idea was Reader accidentally getting cursed and continuing her life completely unaware with a ""dog"" everyone is freaked out by, but she finds it cute. So more like dark comedy vibes. You be the judge. :D

Disclaimer: I have changed the name to Shapeshifter as to not delve into potentially offensive takes on native folklore. Thank you for informing my European ass.

Yandere!Monster x Reader [Shapeshifter]

On your last hiking trip, you've stumbled upon a helpless, lost dog. Or rather, it stalked you down to your cabin and spent the night in front of your window. You didn't have the heart to abandon the poor soul and so you brought it home with you. Strange things have been happening ever since and no one knows how to tell you that the monstrous coyote-like creature might be to blame. You're oblivious to everything.

Content: female reader, dark comedy, monster romance, reader is cursed and proud

It wasn't your intention to return home with a new pet. Some might say it was written in the stars, this fateful encounter of yours. You had finished packing your supplies for a day-long hike, vehemently refusing to join your group of friends that would be guided around by a native. They’d warned you many areas of the mountainous forest were supposedly cursed or haunted, so you just scribbled the limits on your makeshift map and promised to stay on the main trails. After all, this was your chance to commune with nature. As the sun begun to set, you wondered if going by yourself was indeed a smart idea, given your lack of spatial awareness and difficulty to navigate maps. You flipped the piece of paper several times, deep in contemplation. Could it be that you’ve reached the forbidden lands? You quickly surveyed the area: based on the stuffed rag dolls hanging from old branches, and the animal skulls arranged in patterns among patches of burnt grass, it was very much a possibility. Perhaps the improvised slab that said “Stay away” in dripping crimson letters should’ve been enough of a warning, but you assumed they’d just been creative with trail markers.

You didn’t have the time to panic. Just as you were furrowing your eyebrows in a final attempt to decipher the map (at the time upside-down), your ears picked up a faint shuffle of leaves. Further away stood a dog, its glossy eyes fixated on your form. A lost puppy? It seemed to be on the larger side, but then again some breeds grow rather fast. You lowered yourself and patted your knees, whispering diminutives in an effort to call the animal over. It remained in place, staring quietly. Alright, then. You focused on finding your way back instead. Every now and then you'd turn back and see the dog, motionlessly eyeing you at a constant distance. Oh, dear. Was it lost? Frightening affair.

Back at the cabin you told the others about your discovery, with a hint of worry in your voice. You hoped the little pup had found proper shelter. You'd expected a similar reaction coming from your friends, but one of them suggested: "What if it was some shapeshifting monster? There's many legends and stories from the area." Everyone laughed and you joined hesitantly, mildly annoyed by the lack of empathy. That night you barely slept, twisting and turning under the heavy feeling of being watched. You woke up tired and nervous, dragging your feet towards the window for some fresh air. That's when you saw the same forest creature, fully awake and tall in its glory, positioned before your room. This was no coincidence. You had been plagued by the guilt of abandoning a vulnerable quadruped and you weren't about to continue as a passive observer. You strode out without a word and lifted the large dog with a huff, carrying it back in to figure out the transport logistics.

Thus started the unexpected companionship. To you, it's a lovely tale of two lost souls finding one another. Most people seem to disagree. Can you blame them? The rescued puppy you often speak of is, in the eyes of everyone else, a monstrous beast by all definitions. It resembles a coyote more than a dog, but even this description is too gentle. The fur is always raised threateningly and the protruding clusters of fangs remind one of the anatomical anomalies displayed in museums. The eyes, oh, the worst of all perhaps, bottomless depths that pull you in until you run out of air. The creature stares with the all-knowing gaze of a human. "Don't be rude", you snap at whoever dares to point these details out. "It must be a mixed breed or something."

Their persistence is truly ridiculous. You've even had guests run out in panic, claiming the dog stood on its back legs and whispered in a language unknown. Or that its shadow would morph into a grotesque man with claws and crooked antlers. Or that they've found it hunched over your sleeping form, its spine twisted outwards with jagged peaks breaking through the wild fur. Rubbish, all of it.

Strange things have been happening, no doubt, but your adopted fur-child has no blame to carry. You've been trying to distract yourself, going on dates and occasionally bringing potential suitors over. They all vanish overnight, nonchalantly leaving an empty, ruffled bed for you to wake up to. "Am I just unlucky?" You sigh, running your fingers through the coarse fur of your dog. It lowers itself under your touch, visibly enjoying the affection. For a split second, it glances out the window. By the time you come out of your depressed slump, the birds should've finished feeding on the remains. He made sure to tear and grind everything fine enough to not leave any marks behind.

That's how curses work, after all. He didn't expect, however, that you'd be utterly unaware of it. He has to give you the credit, not many people become stalked by an ancient curse and continue their life in blissful ignorance. Even more, for them to just casually pick up the haunting entity and bring it inside their home willingly...You're, uh, certainly a special one. Hence the change of plans. He was supposed to torment you into an early grave, but he's grown rather attached to your bizarre antics. And you do provide some damn good chin scratches. He's therefore satisfied with causing anguish and destruction to anything and anyone in your immediate vicinity instead. Since you've been complaining about the resulting isolation...

You wake up with a gasp, wiping your drenched forehead and checking the sheets. The dog is curled next to you, although its head is now tilted in your direction. "O-oh. It might be the loneliness talking...but I had the strangest dream." How troubling and embarrassing. Your beloved pet had turned into a deformed, monstrous man instead, pinning you down and hungrily grazing your skin with his sharp teeth. Your fearful protests eventually turned into shameless moans, your frail body at the mercy of the mysterious beast. It unfolded so vividly that your core feels sore. You stretch a sheepish hand towards your pet and abruptly stop halfway, noticing the marks diffused into your wrist, like violet smudges of watercolor. What the hell did you do last night?

The dog buries its head under the sheets and nuzzles its snout into your soft flesh. Heh. How many more disappearing guests will be needed for you to figure out your situation? He does find your obliviousness terribly amusing, as well as your willingness to clutch onto him despite his unsightly appearance. He was feeling particularly cheeky and thought of giving you a little scare, only to be once again taken aback by your neediness. He has to wonder who exactly is trapped in this situation, because your reactions to everything he does are frighteningly tempting. Maybe tonight he'll finally let you know, just as you're about to come undone beneath his heaving body. Something like, hmmm. "By the way, love, this isn't a dream." He could even add a little "woof" to tease you more.

[elisezone]

um i NEED a baby fever felix fic please?? like the whole breeding thing has MY soul

Oh, anon, you get it. You totally get the idea.

𝕱𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖝 𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖔𝖓 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖇𝖆𝖇𝖞 𝖋𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗

Warnings: nsfw, breeding

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Firstly, I just know Felix wants kids. He’s always imagined one, two at most. He was brought up on the idea that he needed to keep the family name alive, to have a son, an heir. I can imagine Elspeth keeping up this mantra throughout Felix’s life. Telling him it’s what he’s made for, it’s his duty as their son.

He would want to be the first. He would want to have a baby before Venetia (although i doubt she’d ever settle down).

But he would want to do it first. He would make the family proud.

He kept this idea up his whole life, he needed to settle down, marry and have a baby as soon as he could.

He looked all over for the right person, he knew it was you. As soon as he held your hand on the first date, he knew you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Felix would bring it up with you frequently, little jokes here and there. Late night chats “what would you name our baby?” Type thing. But deep down you could tell it was what he truly desired.

He would confront you just before your last weeks at Oxford, you were about to enter the world.

We would lay down on the foot of your bed, looking up at you lovingly as you read over your notes. A feeling of ease in the air.

“Darling?” He looks up at you, that mischievous look in his eyes you’ve come to associate with lust. “Felix, baby, not right now”. He strokes your leg lovingly, admiring the tan you’d gained from the early summer sun. “No, sweetheart, not that” he laughs.

He looks up at you, grinning, “you know.. you now how we want to be married” he rolls over, gazing at the ceiling as he takes a drag of his long dead cigarette. He waits a beat, seeing if you’d reply. “I’ve been thinking. About our future.”

And that’s where it all began.

It took a long time to convince you, I mean, you were young. You were both very young. Yet you couldn’t see a future without Felix, he was your whole world. You couldn’t imagine marrying anyone else.

From then on, every time he’d fuck you, he’d have intent. He needed to have you, fully have you. He can’t wait to see you stuffed with his cock, it’s all he thinks of throughout the day.

He would hold off having sex sometimes, just to build up the tension. Because he knows that when he wants to cum, he only wants to do it inside of you. Deep within your pussy.

He fucks you hard. Like it’s his last wish on earth to knock up his princess. As he thrusts into you wildly, he imagined how godly you would look with a round, swollen belly. How absolutely delicious you would be, helpless, unable to cope properly without him.

With a hard grip on your hips, Felix fucks himself harshly into you, desperate to breed you fully. To fuck you stupid.

You can feel him falter slightly, his thrusts become erratic. He’s close. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer to you.

The thought drives him insane, over the line as he cums with hot ropes into your pussy. He fold over, caging you with his arms. His chest heaving. His body glistening, sweat beading down his chest.

“Fuck. Oh god- babe. You’re mine. Always mine, you always will be”

He throws forwards a few experimental thrusts and lets out a deep moan. “So fucking good for me”

You look so gorgeous, laying beneath him, completely still. Your pretty body twitching with pleasure.

And he refuses to pull out for so long. Making sure he knocks you up. Plugging up your sweet hole with his seed.

And then he realises, he will have to marry you soon too.