#i haven't had a space or reason to mention it in fic BUT

[shu-of-the-wind]

swallows on the beam facts and info page updated! i should probably link it in my bio but eh

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 Brittle is Devotion

♡ featuring: ex-husband!toji x f!reader

♡ summary: it's been a while since you've seen your ex-husband, and on a drunken night, buried feelings emerge. wc: 12.2k+ (bruhhh)

♡ cw/tw: mentions of violence/blood, angst/comfort, rekindled feelings, rough sex, missionary, prone bone, full-nelson, overstimulation, cervix fucking, creampie, m/f receiving, throat fucking, sadism/masochism, dom/sub dynamics, squirting, fingering, praise/degredation kink, dumbification, edging, breeding kink, feral toji mmm, pet names (angel, sweetie, baby)

notes: good morning!! hope everyone is having a lovely day, i am so so so so sorry i haven't posted in so long i didnt abandon the account!! i've just been getting it together before the semester starts, and i didnt expect for it to be this long :(( im very tired but ill try to get some stuff out in the next couple of weeks, most likely long fics too. ty so much, and srry for any spelling mistakes. art by ilameys_ on ig! <;3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Picking up the pieces after Toji is rough. The divorce was bad enough, and you currently have an aching pain stilling in your chest that makes it hard to take the shallowest breaths. It hammers in the tight confines of your ribcage, and as you sob into your pillow the only relief you desire is sleep, so that you may have temporary solace from the grief wrecking your brain. Your new apartment feels entirely too shallow. There’s no crumby television to use because you were too broke to afford the higher-end appliances, or that creaking mattress you both squeezed into until you could thrift a reasonable headboard. You missed the 60s style tiles painted a horrific green in your kitchen, and the shower that ran out of hot water every other day. It was terrible, downright unlivable for most, but you had each other.  

It hurts more because you love him. So much. Unbearably, to the point where you screamed at the top of your lungs until your throat scratched through angry hot tears, begging him to care for a moment, to give you a reason to stay. Countless times, threatening to walk out if he didn’t endeavor to change. But he never believed you. He thought you’d never leave, because all you had was him.  

And it was true, for years it was. Toji was your dream man; funny and thoughtful. It wasn’t conventional kindness, but it was his. Money didn’t matter—even as you enjoyed a frozen meal on the floor of your empty apartment in the first couple months of moving in with him, you had a smile on your face. Even when your friends and family begged you not to marry him, because they couldn’t stand the sight of him and his arrogant, sometimes aggressive candor, you went on with it anyway. You knew who he really was at heart.  

He was your first everything, you felt if he left, you’d melt to nothing and become a shell of who you once were, because Toji had become an extension of you. You waited for him to get home, had dinner, and slept through the outside commotion of cars and bar fights; his securing arm locked around you, hand cradling your head and legs intertwined. There was no one like him.  

He knew that and got greedy.  

To you, the change was fast, but it’d been spreading like a nasty mold for years. You’d sunk so deep you hadn’t noticed the drought until you reached the bottom. He taught you love, then pulled away; separated himself with additional shifts and pathetic excuses. In turn you punished yourself, showered him with heavier instances of love and endearment, and convinced yourself you needed to try harder. If the sex wasn’t daily, you gave him more. If he didn’t like the food, you learned how to be a better chef. If the house wasn’t clean, you scrubbed top to bottom. Wringing a tired towel, dry of sacrifice. Chasing after him until the soles of your feet blistered. Still, not a smidge of praise or approval came to fruition. When he did—which was rare—those peppered spaces ignited a lasting burn in your heart, keeping withering fire alive.  

Soon, those fleeting kisses and distant pauses weren’t enough, and he didn’t care enough to change. You’d plead and cry at his feet, and he’d scoff and walk past you.  

“We’ll talk about it later”, he’d say more often than not. You didn’t have the confidence to leave, and he consumed himself with whatever underground work he participated in, while you decayed in a declining marriage.  

A grimace on his face, laid back on the couch and looking at you expectingly, as if you would drop to your knees and service him in a heartbeat—but you did exactly that. And you were tired, utterly tired of pulling the emotional and mental leaden baggage on your own. It was heavy, and you were crushing yourself underneath it. You still loved him with every inch of your being, and you’d do it all for him, but it couldn’t be just you anymore. He came home one fateful night to you sitting at the dining table, spotlighted under the stark glass pendant lamp in your dark apartment, dejection that foreshadowed the unfortunate end.  

“Do you love me?” He gazed at your solemn face and scratched his head.  

“Mhm.”  

“Will you change?”  

“No.”  

That’s what you needed to hear. The next week, while he was at work, you gathered your clothes and measly possessions to leave. You sobbed the entire way through, shaking with uncertainty and fear of the unknown—unsure about a future without him. As you slid the dissolution of your marriage on the counter, the sudden reality made you unable to control your knees as you dropped to the floor, and tears spilled down your cheeks and freckled the papers. Luckily, Shoko was there to comfort you and help pack your things. The corners of that confinement spared a gentle, loving memory, and vitriol was left in its wake. Turning back to its hollowness for the last time, you imagined Toji, plopping onto the couch as he’d usually do to watch some late-night television show or going to bed. Like you weren’t there.  

Maybe you never mattered in the first place. 

It’s been a year since, and things are looking up for you. An opportunity surfaced in a field you were interested in applying for, and you miraculously got the job. Moving over a city helped you adjust to your new life—that, and a bottle of dark burning liquor. No matter how much you mindlessly typed at your computer or partied with coworkers, you couldn’t stomach the pit gorging through you, a hole that surfaced everything you’d been burying. 

You’re not prepared to face the forlorn mock of your bleached walls today. As you pry your eyes open, the flickering shimmers through your sheer curtain cast across unattended sheets, soothed by stuffed animals strung along the comforter. You reach for something that isn’t there in your groggy state—a gentle reminder that your morning would be just as empty as yesterday. 

Today isn’t any other; it’s what would’ve been your five-year anniversary. One year, of new beginnings and new friends. A year of solitude.  

You don’t bother slinking out of bed. The accumulation of tasks awaiting you is more daunting than the actual execution. In an attempt to regain control of your life, you established a healthy routine. It entails waking up at early hours to exercise and work on projects and meal prep, and ending your night early with extra exercise and skincare. It was amazing at first and quelled your sadness. What they didn’t inform you of, was the spectacle; the appearance and perception of perfection, and not the struggles or gradual burnout of maintaining that lifestyle. When the distraction died down, and work and social activities became a congealed, monstrous chore, you quickly resented those limp salads and vomit-inducing runs. 

You expel a loaded sigh and pull the covers over. 

The vibration of the phone buzzing on your stomach peels your eyes awake. You allow it to pass, but it rings again. From a frustrated exhale, your languid hands muster the strength to flip to its notification; Shoko’s calling.  

“Hello?” you mutter, fatigue caught in your throat. 

“Fuck, you sound like hell!” she replies. The repetitive clack of office keyboards and analog phones being slammed by stressed out coworkers distorts the background. Thank God I used my paid time off. 

“I love you too, Shoko.” 

“Sorry, didn’t mean it like that…you ok?” It’s much sweeter. Shoko has always been a supportive friend, perhaps bordering on too supportive. You cherish her motherly concern, and rather vulgar honesty. 

“Mm, I’ll manage.” 

“I can come over after work.” You flip onto your back, soaking in the mild sunlight. 

“S’alright, I’m sure you’re busy, and I might sleep in. Wallow in sorrow for a few hours.” Shoko drawls a dramatic groan and creaks back in her chair. 

“Nothing good comes out of feeling sorry for yourself. Go to the club or somethin’.” 

“‘N how’s that gonna help?” 

“Better than whining at home. Wear something sexy, look pretty and get laid. That’s how I get over shit.” 

“Mm, right. I don’t know if that’s gonna work” you giggle, toying with one of the ears on your stuffed bunny. 

“Oh yeah, forgot you’re the born-again Virgin Mary now. You know… if you want to get over ‘him’, you have to take the first step.” You can envision her air quotations. She treats his name as forbidden speech, and regularly refers to it in conversation as “he who shall not be named.” 

“Ugh, mother Shoko’s speaking.” 

“Listen, it may or may not work. Don’t knock it ‘till you try it is all I’m saying.” 

“Yea? Well, if he has a tiny dick, I’m blaming you.” 

“Nothing wrong with shellfish.” 

The last curl falls in place, and you follow it up with copious amounts of hairspray. Fanning your bathroom after a drawn out coughing fit, you get a good look at your figure in the mirror. The backless lacy black dress you’re wearing hugs you in all the right places and guides the detail sitting tight under your butt. It’s undoubtedly revealing, coupled with strappy heels and a dark cat eye.  

You walk past your vanity and pause at the messy jewelry box, riddled with remnants of Toji’s adoration. Sparkling varieties of heavy necklaces and rings and precious diamonds; ninety percent of your jewels were because of him. You’d asked if he stole the items he gifted you, and he’d come up with an elaborate sarcastic story about a jewelry heist he carried out, and how appreciative you should be. Buried underneath rested your engagement ring, a sparkling cut that crowded your entire finger. You couldn’t bring yourself to pawn it, opting to occasionally revel in its beauty before shoving it in a far corner with your feelings. 

Shoko wasn’t lying about how sexy you’d feel dolled up, and it shows in your confidence as you modeled around your bedroom, striking poses to no one. Your plushies weren’t very appreciative of the full-blown fashion show, but you hadn’t felt like this for a long while. Maybe it was about time you entered the dating scene. 

The entrance to Infinity appears as a run-down tacky club from an outdated era, and it’s easy to miss the multicolored flashes dotting the black tinted glass on each side. A few steps past the black and white checkered vestibule, and you get to experience the scale of a roaring, clashing club. It’s not half as lively on the outside; sweat dripping under twinkling lights of multicolor, bodies colliding and moving to the melodic sway of erratic music vibrating through the floor, freely drowning and expelling their insecurities, deepest struggles. It’s both welcoming and hopeless.  

A woman balances her shot glass as she gyrates against a stranger while another stumbles off the dance floor in a drunken stupor. The heat and screams are overstimulating, circulating around you. You consider withdrawing, especially since you held some reservations about partying solo. However, this is what you need, to get comfortable with doing things by yourself. 

So you down shots, two, three, burning of different varieties that heighten your body temperature and nerve. You throw back a mix of dark and white liquor, a dangerous combo that dizzies your vision and runs up an unfathomable tab you can't afford. The strangers accompanying you at the counter encourage you. No rational thoughts, let alone decision making, register in your alcohol-sodden mind. Like strings being fielded by a puppeteer, your legs move on their own to the dance floor.  

It’s hot. The blurring iridescence bends to produce shapes that make your fuzzy brain giggle for some odd reason. You’re moving in slow motion, and the world’s continuing at max speed. You don’t care either way. You’re light on your feet, and the music goads you to dance. Spinning, hands tangled between your locks traveling down the curve of your thighs, hearing the lyrics inside and out as if no one is watching. 

You dance with women and men alike, anyone willing to help you overlook your heartache. It’s floaty, an airiness that spills sober thoughts from cotton mouth and makes every touch electrifying. It’s in your legs and arms, your restless feet and fingers. You laugh hysterically, incomprehensibly, and switch to sadness in a heartbeat. These aimless bodies, just as lost as you, drinking to your despair. Was it worth the abyss tomorrow held, or the agonizing headache as a result? 

After those dances, mainly flailing efforts at rhythm, your head is barreling. You’re suffering from a heavy case of vertigo at the slightest turn, and your stomach’s riddled with knots. It hits you like a car crash, and you strive to stabilize yourself as bile fills your throat, cringing when you reluctantly swallow. A disorienting slurry of words and faces ask you things you cannot hear or see, and it suddenly becomes too real. 

In few sparse moments, your life plays before you in stop motion. From heaving over the toilet while a lady with long nails held your hair back, to knocking the drink out of someone’s hand on your way out. Now you’re walking on one heel and holding the other. You might’ve popped a nail if not for security holding the door open. They attempt to flag you, but you reply with a curt slurred “‘M fine.”  

You push your knees together, sitting on the corner of a curb. This isn’t how you expected the night to end. It’s pitch black beside street lamps, and awfully quiet in contrast to inside. Shivers ripple through you despite the persistent warmth pooling in your ears. You lean on a street lamp in the calm cold as people leave, probably running to participate in intimate affairs with their acquaintances. The gentle hand on a waist or shoulder forms a subconscious smile; young, passionate love blooming on a random night. 

And you burst into tears.  

Ugly tears streaming down your face in blobs that don’t stop no matter how much you wipe them, followed by deep sniffles. They smear across your phone while you search for a taxi app, and your cloudy eyes deceive you. 

You jolt when a hand brushes against your arm and turn to meet the foggy face of a man with stubble. You wipe your wet cheeks and lean further from him.  

“Hey baby, you alright?” The pet-name makes you shudder. You definitely don’t know him, and at this point there’s no one outside. 

“Wh’re you?” you garble. 

“Kusakabe. Where ya off to?” 

“Waitin’ for uh frien’” Your eyelids waver, failing to stay alert under the frightening stare burning holes through your skull.  

“A friend, huh…you gotta man?” he asks, stepping closer to you. You back away to the side of the light. 

“Go away.” You’re definitive, but he laughs as if it were the ridiculous request of a child. 

“I like that dress. You look hot.” His hand drags along the strap of your dress, but you nudge his hand.  

“Mm’get off me. N’don’ need your help.” He scoffs with offense, and as you go to leave, he grabs your wrist firm. 

“Relax. Tryna go home with someone tonight?” You’re trembling, tugging with as much force as you can muster in your punch-drunk state, but he doesn’t budge. 

“L’ve me alone” 

“Don’t be like that, baby. I’ll call a cab-” 

Whack! Your wrist goes limp, and the crunch and crack of flesh hitting concrete echoes. You sluggishly pan to him, knocked out cold beyond the spotlight. The influence takes you, however, and you nearly find yourself joining him on the sidewalk. Before you can fall, a broad, rough hand supports your lower back. Their deep gritty tone is inches away from you. 

“C’mon, sweetheart.” 

You rise from an unusually sweet slumber. The light shines through your eyelids, unavoidable even when you maneuver the velvety warm blanket for shade. Your eyeballs shift across thin skin being prodded by intrusive sun, and as they crack open, you catch a glimpse of the glass coffee table in front of you, arranged with perfection resembling a furniture showroom. You smile to yourself half-asleep, wondering when you bought such an expensive item, and how an abundance of sunlight made its way through your average window. You’re drifting off anew. 

Then, you shoot up. 

You start to really take in the surroundings, and when you do, a pit drops in your stomach. An ultra-wide flat screen television faces you, decorated with plants on either side. Craning your neck, the long windows of this penthouse line the adjacent wall up to the ceiling, which hangs a glass geometric chandelier. This isn’t your bedroom, nor your apartment.  

 Instantly you switch to sitting, and recoil just as fast. Pain envelops the wrinkles of your brain, and you wince from abrupt tension. You palm the bridge of your nose. 

“Fuck” you whisper. Last night replays in your head through staccato bursts, though you couldn’t remember the minutes before you passed out. Embarrassment creeps onto your ears at the freak show you performed hours ago. You’d made a fool of yourself, puked and tripped like a sloppy drunk college girl. You can’t be more ashamed, and to top it off, you’re in the house of a stranger you possibly slept with. You look down from the smooth sectional sofa, and notice your heels arranged neatly beneath you with your phone and bag. At the very least, the man you engaged with seems to be accommodating.  

You scurry to put your heels on, and hopefully sneak out in silence before you face further humiliation. Something about this blanket smells familiar; musk and oakmoss and man, grazing across your nose like the aroma in an intimate embrace, the earthy dew of calm before a storm, a trace only you can understand. 

“Finally up?”  

It’s that gravelly smoky voice you lived in for five years, and some before that. The voice you fell asleep to, mumbling nonsense in your ear through boorish snores. The voice you fell in love with, easily saying “I do” when you wedded at the courthouse. The voice you resent, saying nothing at all when you cried. 

You look behind you, and there he is, walking down the staircase. He’s wearing boxers, settled under the tufts of hair running down his belly button. His rugged muscles peek out from the untied black robe dangling to his strong calves. His hair grew out a bit since you’ve last seen him, shaggy bedhead running across his eyes and covering his ears. 

He smirks the same, though, sweet and soft for such a dour man, like nothing ever happened, approaching you while you sneer at the cruel joke bestowed upon you. 

“Toji.” You haven’t said it in forever. It’s abashing how quickly your regularly tense shoulders relax in his proximity.  

“How ya feelin’? Hope the couch was comfortable enough, figured you wouldn’t wanna sleep in my bed” he says, rubbing the back of his neck as he stretched his sturdy back.  

“It was fine.”  

There's an awkward quiet afterwards. The air’s thick, glass straining under pressure, threatening to give way at the smallest disturbance. 

Toji clears his throat. “So, um...you need somethin’? Water?” 

“No” you bark, folding your arms across your chest. You can’t look at him, not without feeling enraged. You’re the afterthought, the chaser, rushing after a man who wouldn’t dare look twice. “How’d you even know I was there?” 

“Coincidence” he replies, and you scoff. He couldn’t get away with lying to you; playing games with moves you’ve lost to countless times. 

“Like hell it was a coincidence. I’m in a completely different city now, what were you doing there?” You have to physically bite back the words begging to spill from your mouth as his head wanders in thought, possibly concocting another fabrication. 

“Had business” 

“Oh, I’m supposed to believe the man who hates keeping a job had ‘business’. Okay.” You don’t acknowledge the extravagance of the apartment he must be paying for monthly. That, or a chain of illegal activities—whatever assumption suited your irritation in the moment. 

“Well, ya wouldn’t believe me no matter what I said, anyway” he chides. You’re a shaken bottle ready to explode, and his nonchalant demeanor only eggs you on. Toji’s perpetually dismissive, looking down on you like a pitiful puppy. 

“Because you’re always full of shit” you snap. He exerts a loaded sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, as if he had any right to be tired of the situation. 

“’M not lyin’.” 

“Right.” You observe your surroundings more. It’s too opulent, pricey vases you wouldn’t expect from the ex-husband that once thought hanging jackets in the doorway was “decoration.” Definitely not fit for a single guy. You’re separated, and you know it's not your responsibility to keep tabs on his sex life, but that caviling thought won’t stop taunting you. How could he get over it so soon?  

“If you were just gonna bring me back to your fuck pad, I should’ve slept on the curb. Who knows how many girls you’ve had here.” 

He gets eye-level, sitting on the coffee table with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together like a drained salaryman, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“What’s wrong with me? You can’t be serious. Like you never do anything wrong, like everything that’s happened until now is somehow my fault and you did nothing, nothing, to contribute to the bullshit. Stop acting like a fucking victim.” 

“Little lady, you got shitfaced, and some guy was tryna take your drunk ass home. You’re lucky you went home with me instead.” 

“I could’ve handled it; I don’t need you for anything-” 

“You could barely keep your eyes op-” 

“I would’ve handled it! Just like I handle everything else. Alone. Every time. It gets done, I’m not incompetent, Toji!” 

You could hear a pin drop in the stillness. Those forested eyes are gazing into your soul. It’s said and done, and you’ve got it off your chest, yet it hurts like a freshly sliced gash. The arguing doesn’t change, married or not. It sucks when you shout, uncontrollable like a blazing fire, only to be snubbed out by his calm, condescending tone. 

“...I know.”  

You can’t take it, it’s stifling being near him. Wounds loosely covered by band aids seem to peel at his presence, and you’re stuck at his mercy again. You can’t give him the satisfaction of crying in addition to the drunk, poor decisions you made, hardening your expression as you fumble for your phone. 

“Take me home” you demand. Toji stands with an exaggerated stretch on both arms, painfully slow. Before you can hurl your phone at him from the dramatics, he looks down on you with that intoxicating gaze. 

“Are ya hungry?” 

You furrow your brows, and hastily put on the other shoe. Turning on your heels, you go to leave, and are immediately stopped by Toji's calloused hand holding your wrist. You don’t watch, but his palm is gentle. You could smoothly slip out and exit his apartment, forget this engagement and continue a peaceful, isolated life. You’d move on eventually—perhaps to bigger, happier jobs and romances. 

 Despite that hopeful outcome, you remain.  

“I don’t wanna eat. If you don’t take me home, I'll call a cab.” 

“I’ll take ya home, just...look, I know you’re hungry, and I’m down to eat at a diner down the block. Don’t worry about a thing, I’ll pay for it.” Toji isn’t known for being docile, but with his curved posture almost leaning into you and dejection in his eyes, you swear he’s searching for pity. 

“I said I’m not-,” The untimely arrival of your dinning, rumbling stomach cuts off any excuse. A corner of his mouth upturns, and your face contorts to scorned pride. 

“...Fine. Let’s make it quick.” 

“Great. Can’t have ya walkin’ around like that, though.” He pans to your chest. You haven’t thought to give your outfit a glance, but when you do, your eyes grow wide. The entirety of your conversation with Toji, your chest was spilling out the dress, and now part of your areolas is exposed. You cover up the top, but he stares with an x-ray's invasiveness. You reprimand him, swatting his chest; 

“Pervert!” 

There was an added benefit to being around Toji; the way people cleared a path for him and treated him with frightened kindness, afraid that pissing off the physically intimidating man would land them a one-way ticket to the nearest hospital.  

They weren’t exactly wrong, and you have a satisfied pep in your step as people scoot aside. He strides in front of you to get the door, and you mutter a small “thank you.”  

Sweet fluffy pancakes and charred grills mingle with faint notes of bleach. At least he knew better than to take you to a fancy establishment, especially since you were wearing a baggy t-shirt from him, and basketball shorts you had to tie around the waistband. His massive slides had you flopping across the dining aisle as you got to your booth. He’s not particularly dressed either, wearing matching shorts and a compression top. 

It’s hard not to perceive the way women ogle him, drooling at the way his biceps flex when he raises the menu, and his chiseled jaw tensing while he ponders the food options. It was a notable problem when you were married. They’d glare at you, shower him with compliments in front of you, and you’d shrink yourself. Occasionally the waiter would pretend you don’t exist as she swayed her hips at every little thing Toji said. If they want him, they can have him. It’s not your business, right? It’s no different with this waiter, twirling the curl of her hair as Toji reiterates his order, shifting from one leg to the other to highlight her curves.  

Not my business. You're nauseous.  

Not my business. Your fists clench underneath the table. 

Your head’s swimming in thoughts, uncertainty crashing down like a wave upon your increasingly loud intrusions. You drown within yourself, until you’re pulled out by a thumb travelling up your hand, and other fingers clasping around it. 

“Watcha wanna order, angel?” You regain composure, and when you blink, Toji is waiting for you. The waiter side-eyes you and the joining of your hands.  

“You lost? Take her order” he spat. 

The food's steaming hot and fresh, and you salivate at the plate in front of you. Toji snatches your bacon before you can, and you begrudgingly watch as he breaks the strips into two pieces, the way you like it. He winks, and you groan. You coat your strawberry pancakes with maple syrup, trespassing territory around the scrambled eggs and bacon, and he laughs across from you. 

“What’s funny?” 

“Never stopped drowning your breakfast in syrup” he ribs. You pout and swirl your bacon, “It makes it taste better.” 

Soon, food in your belly aided your dialogue, and the old banter returned; an easygoing flow, similar to a lifelong friend you hadn’t spoken to in decades. You giggle between bites and gossip about mutual rumors. 

"What you been doin’ since..." Toji trails off, falling short of “divorce”—a word he never wants to say. 

"Shoko recommended me to her boss, so I'm working uptown now. Pay's okay, nothing to write home about."  

"S'good. Livin comfortable?"  

"As comfortable as I can be"  

"Real humble. Guessin’ it's better than before" he jokes, though you sense a displace in his bearing at the nervous grin he flashes. You reach onto to his side and grab one of the grapes off his plate. You pop one in your mouth, "So, what drug ring got you that house?"  

"The cartel. Good vacation time, too" he jests. 

"Nice. at least it's not that shitty garbage gig you had for a while."  

"It did pay well."  

"Yeah? Couldn't get rid of the rotten milk and vomit smell for weeks after. Remember I made you shower at Geto’s apartment?" 

“Heh, yeah, he was fuckin’ pissed” he laughs, stealing a piece of sugary bacon from the syrup pool. "I'm a CEO, run a company downtown."  

"Ooo, look at you. Can't be little if it did this much for you" you say as you gesture at the empty dishes on the table. Restaurants were a luxury in your household. 

"I guess. I had a vision, and some people believed in me”, he pokes at the leftover blueberries, “I finally made it happen, that counts for something, right?"  

You pick another off his plate, smile stretching, "You're a natural born leader. People will follow you regardless, even if it's not the right choice."  

His eyebrows raised in surprise, "That's the first good thing you said about me today."  

"Don't get used to it." 

You wait for Toji to retrieve his car after walking back to his apartment. You’re awestruck in many ways; he paid for the whole meal with a black card and showed undying manners. He bowed to your requests. You’re smarter than this, though. This is his opportunity to get on your good side, and he’s showing the best version of himself. However, it fills your heart with want—like the initial dating phase, those butterfly stricken, heart-numbing, sappy gestures that made you melt.  

He wraps around the car to open your door, and you plant yourself in the sleek beige interior. Your eyes flick to the veins in his forearm straining as he steers, his deadpan focused expression and the composed R&B music low in the background. It starts to drizzle, and raindrops plink the car roof. 

You feel complete; And that alone is a dreadful reality. 

The scar on his lip twists to a smile, “Did’ya like the food?”  

You turn your nose up, “it was satisfactory.” He snickers, and navigates to the street your apartment is on. “Shit, I gotta give you your clothes back.” 

“Forget it, bring it when you get the chance.” Chance. He expected to see you again. You hang your head as he approaches the complex. You didn’t want today to end, but this is it. You’ll leave this car and go your separate ways. This is how it should be.  

You place an earnest hand on his shoulder and cast a smile. The corners quiver and your first syllable wobbles, but you finally speak, “I’m proud of you, Toji. I mean it. You’re going to do great things, and I’m always rooting for you.”  

He swallows stiff, and suddenly he’s sickly pale. Something within you is pleased at that reaction; if he wants redemption, he should beg and drop to his knees and crawl for forgiveness, he should lock himself up for your eyes only and cut off everyone else in his life. You’re walking away a second time, rightfully so, but you struggle to decipher what you want in this moment. He palms your hand, staring at you, “I’m all for praise, but tell me when we meet again” 

“Toji, there can’t be a next- “ 

“Give me your phone.” 

“Huh?” His urgency throws you off guard, “Don’t think, just give me your phone.” It’s impossible to kill the complicated slurry that is your mind, and a new bundle of thoughts emerges from his request, but for a heartbeat, you allow yourself to wander. Pitter patter and muted music, heated seats, the cologne radiating from Toji—all that exists. 

 You moved on instinct, and now your phone is in Toji’s hands. He's adding his contact information. He hands it back to you, fingers brushing against your soft skin.  

“I won’t text or call you. ’S there whenever you need me. Move at your own pace and call me when you’re ready.” With that, you exit his car. No hug or gratitude, skipping goodbyes as you rush out the car. It’s bittersweet when he pulls off, and you’re left with the ghost of him.  

The familiar click of your convoluted keys in the apartment door could bring you to tears. You’ve officially reverted to your mundane, boring lifestyle. The walls look duller today. 

You curiously click on his contact, and giggle at the name he assigned himself: 

dumbass ex 

tick, tock, tick, tock 

The blue light beaming through your office computer is an eyesore, but you have little say in the matter. There's an upcoming deadline for these reports, you can’t waste precious skill complaining about circumstances out of your control. It’s tiresome, and you rove to the cobweb missing a string in the corner of the room, or the single drop of water roaming outside those wide sterile windows. The balls of your feet carry your flats as you absentmindedly push a pen against your lip. 

Your concentration has been out of commission since meeting Toji. He kept his word and hadn’t called you whatsoever. A month passed, and still nothing. Be glad, you told yourself, get your goals back on track. Your exercises get vicious, from jogging to a full sprint, hoping that those buckets of sweat will shed off the extra weight of Toji’s abidance. The fruit bowl on your break offends you with mocking displays of strawberries and grapes. You’ve pondered deleting the contact entirely to repel enticement, but you can’t do it. It’s painfully clear that you miss him. 

He’s horrible, callous and selfish. Of course, Toji had a way of showing up at your lowest to fill your head with empty promises and gestures of affection, that charming grin shooting daggers at your weakness. In his gaze, you’re defenseless, and in his arms, you’re exposed.  

Albeit late, a pestering thought carves into you, unfortunate and disgraceful to the healing you strive to accomplish; message Toji. 

A set of wheels rolls above the carpet, and you see Shoko, lifeless arms hanging beyond the armrests. The bags under her eyes signify stress from finalizing late papers.  

“Unnghhhh, (Y/N), I can’t do it” she laments, drooping her head to the side. You pat the top of her hair, “I believe in you.” 

“What are you working on?” She quirks a brow, and you stare at the screen with her. You’ve typed an entire page of straight gibberish. “I’m getting distracted too...” 

“Let’s quit and tell her to shove it.” 

“You know I can’t do that” you fuss as you backspace the document. “Mm, me neither. What’s got you zoned out?” 

“Nothing in particular.” You’re afraid to tell Shoko of your rendezvous, she might become volcanic and fire magma at the sound of any “-oji”. 

“I know it’s not nothing. New boyfriend, hm?” 

“S-something like that” you chuckle. She shapes an ‘O’ with her mouth, and wheels closer. Her bangs touch your eyebrows, and she rests her chin on her hand. Her usual dead eyes have a malicious twinkle in them. 

“What’s he like? Is he tall or short?” she gasps, “did you meet him at the club? I told you it was a good idea; I really am the best advisor.” 

You sigh, “It’s no one new.” 

“Ooo, an old flame. Spicy. What’s his name?” You turn slowly, a nervous bite on your lips. She studies your face, and slowly hers drops. 

“Do not fucking say it.” 

“Shokoooo” you whine, searching for sympathy from her. Instead of that, your body is shaken violently as she whisper-yells, “Are you kidding? Get a grip! What’s gotten into you, you were fine!” 

“But I wasn’t. It sucks, I feel lonely all the time.” 

“You felt lonelier with him than without him!” 

“I know, but...” You ball your lips in with furrowed brows, and she holds her breath. 

“I wanna go see him” you squeak. Instantly, she squishes your cheeks with both hands to hold you in place. 

“Absolutely. Fucking. Not.” 

At home, you pace back and forth in front of the phone resting on your bed. Toji’s contact is open, and nausea is brewing in your stomach. You’re giddy and ill, working up the courage to press “call”. You really should be practicing Shoko’s advice, but you’ve long surpassed common sense. You leave and come back, spying on it from a distance. Eventually, you forgo the theatrics and grab the phone to hit the messenger app. 

Three dots vanish and resurface. You can’t get it right:

'Hey stranger I got custody of ur clothes rn' 

'Hey haha I missed u can I come over?' 

'Yo what’s up? Still have ur clothes do u want them?' 

'I’m coming to give u ur stinky clothes' 

This shouldn’t be complicated, and you don’t usually perform the process of elimination for simple responses, but it’s Toji. You’re scrambling and overanalyzing, reiterating your choice of slang only to delete it all over again. You settle for a simple message. “Hey Toji, I wanted to return your clothes. Let me know when you’re available. Thanks”  

Once you hit send, you run a marathon around your bedroom, tippy tapping to expel your anticipation. The churning grows as seconds pass, and so does your doubt. You tiptoe to the phone as if a displaced floorboard would activate the alarm. You’re about to tap the screen, and then your ringtone plays.   

Oh god. 

You take a deep breath and swipe right on the faceless profile picture labeled “dumbass ex”.  

“…Hello?” 

“Hey, angel.” You avoid a dull pound in your chest at the memorable pet name. “So, um-“  

“I wanna see you. I’m available now, and I’ll be home by the time you get here” he states, direct and confident. His conviction validates yours, you bend to his direction. 

“Okay then. I’ll start getting ready.” 

“I’ll send a cab to your address. See you soon.” When he hangs up, you dive into the pile of plushies. Squeezing them for emotional support, kicking your feet in the air as you scream into your ruffled pillows like a girl’s first crush. You have a long night ahead of you. 

You access Toji’s building. He must’ve notified them you were coming, as the doors were open upon arrival, and a bellhop was sent to guide you to his floor. You’re standing outside of it, clothes and a bottle of champagne in hand. Your stretchy maxi dress clings to your figure, complimenting the juicy shade of lip gloss you’re wearing—the shade he loved most on you during your marriage. You ring the bell, and it doesn’t take long before he opens the door. The scene you’re exposed to swells heat between your legs. 

Toji has nothing but a towel shimmied low on his hips, v-line adorned with veins and biceps corded with muscle. He’s trimmed his hair since your last encounter, and it’s dripping wet along with the rest of his soaked body. You’ve interrupted his shower apparently, but he didn’t hesitate to rush to the door, water cascading from the raven veil, sluicing down his sculpted chest. He had to have done this on purpose, but you weren’t complaining at this point; he looked damn good doing it. You can’t disengage from the beads branching amid his pecs and through his happy trail. God, you wish you were water personified right no- 

“You’re staring, dollface” he teases with a smirk. Your eyes snap to his, and you remember to breathe. You clumsily hold up the liquid peace offering, “Brought a little something.” 

“Thanks. Make yourself comfortable, I’m gonna get dressed.” You nod, and he marches upstairs. You don’t need comfortability; you need to be in and out of here before you do something you’ll regret.  

But...is that cedarwood and vanilla? The interior gives off romantic energy at night, attractive dim lighting throughout and dull flickering pops of his fireplace in the living room. You find the source of that heavenly scent sitting on his kitchen island, and awkwardly place the bottle down. You don’t know what to do with yourself, more so you don’t know what to say. It’s hard to recite a script when things aren’t going according to plan. Did you want to apologize, or force him to apologize? Maybe you should’ve cursed him out, rehashed his asshole behavior from the past until he drowned in guilt. You want to kiss and slap him, cry in his arms until your voice gives out and disappear all at once.  

There’s a beautiful clear vase in the center, crammed with your favorite flowers, and your fingers dance across the petals. “You like ‘em?” he asks stepping into the kitchen. His hair’s still saturated, but he’s sporting grey sweatpants and a black ribbed tank top. “They’re very pretty.” 

“They’re for you.” 

You switch between his playful expression and the burst of colors, “You don’t have to do that.” The bouquet evokes recollections of heated arguments—anytime he’d angered you to tears, and you slammed that bedroom door in his face, you always woke up to similar flowers on the floor. They were cheap, but it meant more than money; because despite the fights and disagreements, it let you know that he’d love you regardless. 

“I wanted to. As thanks for bringing my clothes.” He’s pacing towards you, and you’re bound to the floor like melting wax. His gaze is captivating, and you’re entranced by the verdurous ardor that won’t deter from you. 

“Thank you”, you say as he looms above you and inspects the scripture on the pale bottle. His large thumb blocks the intricate lettering he’s trying to read, “I should be thanking you. Didn’t think you’d ever message me.” 

You can feel the body heat radiating off him, the airy words as he mouths the contents. His eyebrows furrow to follow his focus, while you lose yours.   

“I-I should probably get going-” Without delay, Toji blocks your side with an iron grip on the island, trapping you in the confines of his broad wingspan. 

“Leaving so soon? You got plans tonight?” Saying and doing are completely different stories, and from the way your feet haven’t moved, you aren’t in a rush to go anywhere. 

“Not really, but I worked today and I’m kinda tired-”  

“Then what better way to unwind than with a bottle? I can’t drink this by myself, might as well keep me company” he suggests, persuasion to a greater extent when your lower back hits the bar. A drink or two couldn’t hurt, right? 

“I guess I can stay for a few minutes.” Toji flashes a victorious toothy grin and retrieves cups from the sink cupboard. He gives you a rounded glass, and his muscles flex below candlelight as he maneuvers the cork at an angle. 

“Let’s crack this open” he says, popping the cap off and pouring a substantial amount of golden fizz into both cups. 

Toji raises his glass, “A toast.” 

You tilt your head but raise yours as well. “To what?” 

“Us.”  

Us is a funny thing—with enough effort, it becomes you and I just as quickly as it formed. You don’t know if you’re willing to accept the responsibility of eternity. The devastation of commitment could damage you forever. There’s no us, but there’s you and him. So, you clink your glass, “To us,” and his eyes never leave yours as he takes a swig. It lasts a lifetime among longing breaths and unsaid words. 

He brings the champagne to the living room, “I’ll turn on a movie. You know that cheesy romcom shit you used to watch? They made a sequel.” You fall flat on containing your excitement. He grabs the remote and lays back with his thighs spread apart.  

Toji pats the couch, “Come sit. Don’t worry, I won’t bite.” You hardly believe that, but you remove your heels and relax upon overstuffed cushions. You opt to sit farther on the couch, and there’s an annoyed twitch on his lip at your display of boundaries. Nevertheless, he starts the movie. 

Toji’s not particularly sneaky. He announces multiple bathroom breaks, returning to a spot on the couch that’s inconspicuous, but inching closer to you. The intent becomes clear when the ghost of his shoulder knocks against you, spreading his thighs wider to brush against the softness huddled into your snug figure. You’re half paying attention to the cliché performance, and half observing Toji. It’s hard not to smile when he behaves like a disobedient dog obligated to sit.  

It’s cute that he arced himself to be eye-level with you. His tank rode up to expose his lower abdomen, and he adjusts himself in his sweats, jaw occasionally clenching. It could be the drink talking, perhaps you’ve had too many.  

The movie ends, and you exhale a sigh of relief. “I forgot how corny this shit is.” 

Toji shrugs, “I didn’t think it was too bad.” 

“No way, you actually liked it?” you gasp. He huffs out his nose, smiling, “People change.” 

“I’m shocked” you quip. Dusk creeps into a descending sunset, and you steal a glance at your phone screen. Bright as day, a notification from Shoko emerges. “NO TOJI >:(" 

You’re stumped thinking of a reply, one that doesn’t compromise your less-than-ideal situation, when Toji puts his hand over the screen. “Hope I’m not gettin’ ya in trouble.” 

“Like you care.” He chuckles and slides it to the far side of the couch. “You’re right. Let’s watch another.” 

This next movie's decent; a flat racing plot with excessive sequels. He unleashes an exaggerated yawn, extending his triceps to land behind your head. You quirk a brow at him, and he plays innocent. “You look cold” he says. You don’t care as much as you pretend. His pads trace the shell of your burning ear down to the lobe, to fine hair at the end of your neck. His rough hand massages the back of your head, and you lull to his chest. Be it the champagne or his actions, it’s too hot for comfort. Clamping your thighs shut spurs the intensity. His other hand languidly tests the limits of your skin, gossamer touches from your knee to your thigh. It's asking, and when you don’t object, he invites the entire palm to your knee, rubbing delicately. He brings it to your upper thigh, and retreats to the outside, getting dangerously close to your rear. The worst part is it’s not that bad. It’s intimate. Warm. 

Loving. 

It takes you a minute to comprehend you’re tearing up, but Toji recognizes that hushed sniffle. Airy and choked, quiet as to not be a burden. He circles a hand around your waist and pulls you impossibly close. He tilts your chin to his gaze, soft and deceptively gentle when he asks. 

“What’s wrong pretty, hm?” You say nothing through the constrains in your throat, streaking the tears that fall faster than you can wipe them. This man alone can reduce you to mush with a wave of his hand. He bares your rawest state and sculpts you back together with such purity, such devotion, that you’d plead for him to sink his clay sodden fingers into your nothing, and make you everything. 

“Tell me, and I’ll fix it.” 

You say just above a whisper, “You’re selfish, you know that?”  

“Mhm, I know” he nods, grazing his thumb across your lip. 

“This isn’t healthy for us; we can’t heal like this.” He angles your head with his half lidded gaze, polishing your damp undereyes.  

“I don’t need healing. I need you.” 

You find passage in his hair, and surrender to temptation. 

You test with a smooch. Then another. Then a series of tender, sugary kisses are pushed upon his pliant lips, and he responds in kind. You curl your fingers through his tresses as you explore the contours of his lips for what feels like the first time. Toji isn’t known for patience, but the sensation of his mildly dry lips getting smoother from your supple kisses gives him the will to savor this moment. You push and pull from each other, indulging in the messy smacks and caresses. You stop amid shared breaths to skim and nudge his yearning lips, diving into more hungry kisses. Toji abruptly lifts you over him, and you deepen its bruising passion.  

You lick his bottom lip, and he groans, parting his mouth to allow your entry. You traverse the pink mass, interlacing in a wet feverish exchange. Your mind is numb, and the heartbeat in your core strikes stronger when your tongues intertwine. Toji hikes your dress up and slinks his massive hands over the plush fat of your rear. He earns a muffled moan from you as he kneads and gropes, and you feel his smirk against your lips. He grips your ass and starts to grind your hips on the bulge in his pants, a silent beg for any amount of friction. You wind with his movements, consuming him, and you hear a whimper get lost in the back of his throat.  

You drag your teeth along his neck. You lick and suck in a few spots and decide to draw harshly on a responsive patch of skin while circling the fat of your pussy over his sensitive cock, taut in his boxers. His breath hitches, and he slaps your ass. “Fuck, baby please.” It’s rare to witness him begging like this, and you’re drinking it in. You lick up his Adam’s apple and pepper his jaw with kisses. “You like it?” 

“Need more.” You bite his bottom lip for what seems like an exchange, but break away once he leans in. “Mm, be patient Toji.”  

Your hands traverse the rugged muscle under his tank top. He aids in taking it off, and you rake over his breathless torso. You kiss along his pecs and lick the groove of his abs, delighting in the parts you missed during your separation. Toji has a tinge of red soaking his chest and ears, shifting uncomfortably from his throbbing cock when you bat your eyes as you slope to the floor. You slip a finger under his waistband, playfully running over its span, and snapping it from a peak. He hisses. You palm his erection, and he grinds into it.  

“Wait” he husks. He reaches for a pillow and shuffles it under your knees. “Oh, thank you” you say, but it doesn’t look like he hears you in the chaos of tugging his sweatpants down to expose his boxers. The anticipation’s killing you, so you free his dick from its confinement. 

You can’t forget the mouthwatering size. His girth meets his length with equal satisfaction. The base is tan, fading to a rosy tip and a faint curve. You committed his veins to memory, small ones embossing the sides and a prominent one meandering to his tip. 

You maintain eye contact with him, hand steady on the base as you deliver taunting little licks to his frenulum. You precisely ring around his urethra and trace the veins, pulsating from the flick of your wrist. Toji hisses shaky curses and bucks, beefy thighs stiffening when you roll a flat strip to his leaking head and pump the base of his cock. He didn’t want to push you, but his whole body twitched in desire. “Your mouth” he groans. You react a coy ‘huh?’, tapping the head on your tongue and slathering it in saliva with cutesy doe eyes. He’s homed in on the strings of saliva connecting him to your tongue. 

An undertone of desperation in his gravelly voice, “Whole thing. In your mouth,” he expends another shaky breath, “please.” 

He bites his lip and stifles a moan, watching you engulf the cockhead in your mouth. You hollow out your cheeks while the underside of your tongue holds firm, and cautiously accommodate his size. It’s too big for comfort and it stretches the capacity of your plump spit-covered lips, but you work through the daunting pressure poking your reflex. You gradually relax, periodically gagging from an unprepared increase, and he twitches at your tightening throat. Your nose finally touches the hilt, flooded in his musk, and you start to suck. You bob leisurely, adjusting to the sense, and he subtly squirms in your touch.  

Toji crinkles his brows when you release a pleasant pop on his tip, purely to observe his eyes rolling back when you wreck him in a noisy suction. Noise was no longer a factor—sounds of spit and dry retching overpowered the volume of the movie regardless. He holds your hair away from you to get a better view of your face, smothered with tears and mascara, drool ceaseless down your chin. “F-fuck, you’re so good, so, so good to me” he groans. 

Your tongue swirls around him as you’re bobbing, and you accompany it with a tender massage to his balls. You cup and fondle them, using the lubrication from your spit to glide your fingers across. He sighs and grabs a handful of your hair. “Need to come. Keep that pretty throat open for me, yeah?” 

He rapidly shoves you down to the hilt, and you wince before he continues at a relentless pace. You anchor his thigh for stability, and he throws his head back, fucking your throat raw. There's a sheen of sweat where his bangs stick to his forehead, and he emits an endless measure of moans the closer he gets. Rambling about nonsense, yes’s and curses as he stiffens. He treats your mouth like a flesh light, evident by the throat bulge disappearing and reappearing. You happily accept the searing jaw, swaying your ass from thrumming in your saturated panties damp to your inner thighs.  

You can tell he’s about to climax because he goes completely quiet minus the panting, open mouthed with his head back. You resume massaging his balls, and he shoves you to the base, “C-coming” he moans. You grab onto him, and a squeak dies in your throat when he paints it white. He shakes, groans for each spurt coating your mouth, pumping the last of his semen as you swallow. 

Toji shudders when he pulls out, and his panting returns to a soft huff. You expected him to be spent, or at least sit in the aftershocks for a while until he calmed down. But he tightens the grip on your hair and forces you to look up. “Show me” he husks. You stick your tongue out, proof you swallowed every bit. “Now c’mere”, he guides you into a filthy French kiss, devouring you with much more dominance than before. It’s as though your nearness restored him. You can hardly stand your feeble knees and sopping core, but Toji takes care of it for you. With unnatural vigor, he lifts you over his shoulder, and marches up the stairs. “Ah, Toji, maybe you should take a sec-” 

He swats your butt harsh, and you yelp from the sting. “Don’t fuckin’ tell me what to do. You’ve been so mouthy, a damn tease, too. You’re gonna regret it.” 

You’re ferried into the rather plain bedroom lined with dim hues, and a wide ceiling length mirror opposite the bed. He tosses you on the dark gray bedding and climbs over you. Your heart’s racing with thrill. Toji yanks the dress over your head, uncovering the sheer white lacey bra, similar to your underwear.  

He stares like you’re a piece of meat, feasting on your flawlessness not yet smothered in hickeys and bruises, your nipples at attention under the fabric. “It’s all for me, huh?” he whispers, lust rolling off his tongue. You nod, because it’s always been for him, whether he was here or not. He buries himself in your cleavage and hums in satisfaction. His touch sends goosebumps to your skin and keeps your back arched when he drags a pad along your spine. Then your bra unclasps, and he removes it carefully, as if he didn’t want to spoil the surprise by unwrapping his gift too early. He gawks at them for an embarrassingly long pause, enough to make your cheeks hot, and you chide, “Stop staring.” 

“Shut up, you’re gorgeous.” Toji submerges the bud, whirling around it while he roughly squeezes both breasts. He molds the dough of your breasts with strong palms, nips and tugs your nipple before soothing it with fierce tongue kisses. Consistent teeth grazing hikes your sensitivity before he trades it for sucking. When he switches to the other, he pinches the maltreated peak, eliciting a whimper. You merely bind your thighs and embrace the disarray being caused on your spit-soaked nipples. The cold air your abused tits receive as he withdrawals from suckling is nullified by the hickeys he leaves. You quiver from constellations of splotchy purplish red, delicious pain tingling throughout your torso. “Not so much, I have to go back to work soon” you moan, not very convincing.  

“Even better; everyone’ll know who fucks you” Toji winks, and your heart skips. He dumps a nice vibrant bruise on your sternum, and advances to the dainty hem. He parts your thighs with ease, throwing them on his shoulder. Then he develops a haughty smirk.  

You’re monitoring his face, until he presses a pad against your aching clit, and the subsequent juices overflowing from a huge wet patch. He plays with the spiderweb of slick between his digits, “Mm. Y’still my girl.” You blush as he sucks on them and licks his lips afterwards. Hooking under the panties, he pulls them taut, projecting the swell of your pudgy vulva in tightening lace. It sinks past your outer lips and cages your clit—you want to writhe from friction, but it makes it worse. He ghosts against you and kisses the print, and you want to scream. “Tell me what you want, or I won’t do it.” 

“P-please...” you whine. You lock eyes, and you can hardly manage a word in the foreground of his intensity. How can he expect you to form coherent sentences when he sees through you like this? He gives a disappointed tut and puppeteers the strings, shifting them back and forth upon your neglected vulva. You cry out, and he cinches it together, isolating the part that pulses incessantly. He has an evil grin on his face, the bastard. “Details, baby.” 

“Toji...please t-touch me alre-eady so I can come, m’sorry I won’t tease you again!” you promise, willing to do whatever it takes to reduce your sentence. 

“And what else?” 

“Your mouth on m-my pussy...please lick it.” You’re humiliated at the request that tumbles from your bottommost desires, but he’s satisfied. He’s never been one to shy away from dirty talk. 

“Good girl.” Toji slithers your panties off, and you sigh from a loss of pressure just as his bangs tickle your pubic area. He interlocks your hands, a breath from eating you. 

“You don’t look at me, I’ll stop. Think you can do that f’me?”  

“Mhm!”  

He hums in agreement and submerses into you. Toji’s a messy eater, especially when he’s desperate. He ovals the outer lips and precisely stirs your clit, and your stomach turns in knots from simple motions. He frames it and carefully winds around his capable tongue, really focusing on the spots that make your back curve; really focusing on your entry, as he teasingly digs in.  

Toji cajoles a groan from his nose caressing your bud, then laps a level tongue over your wetness, truly tasting you. It isn’t long before his teasing farce began to crumble, and he obliged his ravenous appetite. He eats you starving, insatiable as he absorbs your twitching cunt and perfumed essence spilling down his chin. You clasp your hands, desire building in a trembling quake, but he doesn’t falter. He slurps your inner lips, and finally delivers proper care to your neglected clit. He hums a low vibration when he sucks, his pursed lips moving from a steady tongue to full on slobbering like some savage animal.  

You appreciate the support his steady hands give your shaky ones. “Toji, hahhh coming” you whine, a familiar sensation flipping in your core. He lets his words fan onto you, “You know better” he husks. Your hips are bucking frantically, and so you whine, “Please, can I come sir, please please please please!”  

“Hmm, I don’t know, you were ready to disobey me just now.” He says that, however the look in his eye is unrelated; it craves you, the want to make you squeal repeatedly until you’re on the verge of collapse. “’M can’t take it anymore, please let me come!” You urge your hips to his mouth, and meld into his warmth. 

“Come on my face, pretty girl” he groans, just as hankering as you. He laps at your clit, and you sooner fall apart underneath him. Your whimpered plea forms an innocent sob as you spasm from overstimulation. Toji just doesn’t stop. His head careens against you, tasting everything your body has to offer. You’re suddenly regretting how badly you wanted to come. 

“Toji- I-it’s too much” you protest, but it receives no response. Your release dribbles down his chin and he persists, ultimately unbinding when you lose a hold on his hands from the tremors. He diverges your lips and admires the way your mess clenches around air. 

“Heh, you’re shaking. Cute.” He rubs the back of your legs, reassuring you in spite of his previous cruelty. You make a sad attempt at wiggling away, but he grabs you firm. 

No running. Be good and hold your legs back.” He folds your legs to your shoulders, and you mewl, reluctantly wrapping your hands around them. ‘No’ isn’t a valid response at present.  

Toji’s thumbs spread your wrinkling opening, and you feel a draft on its expanse before he spits directly into your hole. You jerk, startled, and he shushes you. He slathers his thick digits in your glistening strip, and smoothly sinks one inside. “Pussy so slippery for me. Miss this...miss you” he sighs, starting to pump. He prepares you for the main course, scrapes your walls and curls his finger to hit a spot you can’t reach. The nasty squelching sounds you echo from a mere finger casts heat on your cheeks, and he seems to enjoy your responsiveness as he adds another finger to the commotion. He twines a ‘come hither’ motion that makes your back arch from every delightful swipe against your velvety walls. Then his pink muscle undulates along your swollen bud, and you dissolve to a puddle. Your hips stutter, and surge after surge of torturous pleasure strikes you with no end in sight. 

“Toji, f-fuck wait- hng s’feels too good” you whimper, and he gruffs a chuckle. He expands his fingers with precision, then chooses to slide a thumb in your butthole. The combination of both hands intruding your being, coiling into your soul jams your head with intoxicating dizziness and fictitious futures. Static pools in your stomach and circulates like the goading flickers of a raging inferno. He contacts your g-spot, and you moan, “Ah- can I, I’m close” 

“I know, I know. Let go for me,” he says, or at least that’s what it sounds like when he’s face-deep. Your eyes are screwed shut, white noise before you crash and shatter around his fingers. Fortunately, you’re deaf to your own lewd wailing, clutching for dear life through contractions. It gushes past his wrist. Tears reside in your lashes, croaked sob from the slap he gives your puffy pussy. “That’s it, baby, there we go.” 

Toji shows mercy and slips out. You’re still registering sultry bliss, untangling your limbs to lay slack. Empathy isn’t forever, though, because he forces your butt rearwards as he hops off the bed. Precum seeps from his tip, sheeting his shaft and heavy brimming sack. He propels your thighs to your chest, and your expression switches to fear for a second at the angry red tip sitting at your entrance. It's as if it grew since the blowjob, and you’re sure you’ll die if he stuffs that monster inside you.  

He slides up and down the entrance, seizing the sore bud, “Mmm, pretty thing making a mess all over my cock.”  

“Just go slow, okay?” you meek. 

“Of course, ‘m not tryna kill you.” Toji doesn’t disrupt the yearning gaze between you, giving your entry several threatening caresses. He groans from the sensation of your puffy lips snuggling his length. Then he plunges the bulbous tip, encased in your passion. He’s unhurried for the most part, besides the instants he stops himself from ramming into you, cock begging to feel the fervor. He’s plugging you to capacity, and you’re only halfway in. Soreness whirrs in your walls being outstretched beyond belief, yet you’re milking what remains, dragging the rest of him in. His breath hitches, a spiderweb of veins pulses in your tight embrace and he rocks his hips further. “Look at the way you’re gripping me. Fuck” he shudders. His tip presses on your cervix, and you feel the weight of his balls on your rear. 

Toji drives into you nice and slow. In this position you feel each vast stroke massaging your tumid core, squelching amidst your languid bodies. There’s almost a gloss film on his eyes as he indulges in the sweet addiction swamping his thoughts with unfiltered lust. “When you left it hurt real bad, y’know? I even cried.” You’re a bit stunned at his spur of honesty, but it’s short-lived as his thrusts get wilder and brutal. Your mouth hangs open, drool shameless out your mouth as he kisses your cervix without trying. You throb frenetically, chest heaving from the way his sack smacks against your ass and the creamy translucent ring forming at the base of his cock. His swinging strokes graze your g-spot and you sob, but he doesn’t check for your mitigation, encompassing your numb clit in the heat of his mean smacks.  

“Heh, dunno if you remember, but you left a pair of panties when you moved”, Toji regresses to the tip and bottoms out repeatedly, “I’ve jerked off in them so many times, imagining you backing up this juicy pussy on my dick.” You’re hysterical, flushed from head to toe and struggling to take breaths. Toji has you locked slamming into your cervix. It coaxes a mix of pleasure and pain burning through you, and your toes curl. “You love me?” he asks. It’s unfair to ask you now, scatter-brained and drooling like a stupefied slut. But you nod, and he plasters a cocky grin. “Good. ‘S long as I have that, I’m okay.”  

The unexpected flood of your orgasm quakes you, unable to warn Toji, or even ask for permission. How disappointed he’d be in you, as your juices sluice and soak, fluttering where you come undone. It’s a trail of fire, and it hurts to come. His hips sputter and he mutters a string of curses, flicking your nub faster to heighten the intensity of the earlier mess. You paw at his chest, back arched and fresh tears clustering in the haze. “Please, please!” you babble to an unresponsive Toji, stuck in a feral trance.  

Toji pulls out, palpitating at the precipice of his own climax. You take this opportunity to flip on your stomach and creep to a farther part of the bed. He’s in no rush. You can’t go far like that, a net of arousal at the apex of your thighs. He climbs onto the bed and grapples your hips, thighs capturing yours. He curves your back and slips into your gummy walls anew. You grip him like a vice notwithstanding the complaints. You hate to say it, but Toji’s length bullying its way to your cervix is a poison you’d drink habitually. He snares your hair and holds the underside of your chin. “Hah- c’mon baby, you can take a little more”, he groans at a savage pace, “be a good girl.” Your ass ripples against the brawny man, hoarse voice in your ear, scrotum pummeling the overworked bundle of nerves. Your knuckles turn white on the sheets. All you should do is let him use you, that’s all you need to do, right?   

Toji pans your head to the mirror, “Look how good you’re taking me, angel. You’re doing well.” His honeyed praises make you throb, attended by the bestial snap of his hips. “See that?”, he references your release slugging both legs, air heavy with sweat, “you’re such a f-fucking slut, what man could satisfy you besides me?” You sniffle and muster a pathetic babble, and he laughs. “You’re my perfect slut, though, fuck- ‘nd I’m not gonna make the same mistakes again.” There’s a tinge of regret swimming in the sea that is Toji’s confidence, and you feel it. It’s a subtle confession; please don’t go. 

Then he stops. Toji lets go, and you’re impulsively manhandled in front of him while he’s behind you. He lays back, and in doing so, ferries your knees to the sides of your face and hooks his hands to the rear of your head. You’re unveiled in the reflection of the mirror, a panel that bounces back the thin sheen of sweat on your bodies, your disheveled hair and makeup, wrinkled sheets, and the sticky lacings attaching you to Toji. You want to shy from the humiliating sight. “Don’t hide your face” he coos. You glimpse a portion of his face in the mirror, a glint in his eye, “I like this view more.”  

He bends his knees and pounds your chubby cunt with reckless abandon. He’s fucking your cervix, heedless grunts and panting groans as you swallow him up. Toji sputters, throbbing along your abused body and reverberating vicious staggering plap’s that could be heard on the lowest floor. You can’t breathe, let alone think, and the asphyxiation goes straight to your pussy. “O-oh fuck, heh, feel s’good. Gonna fill you up, yeah? Shit- have a mini me crawling around. Y-you'd like that, wouldn’t you, doll? Wanna carry my baby?” The headboard thuds against the wall, and in your fog, you call out for him, chanting his name like a mantra. The emotion is overwhelming, you claw at his bicep as shockwaves burst and fizzle out on your skin. “You’re dripping down my balls, sweetie, you close again?” Tougher, nastier strikes allure your orgasm, and you bleat a scream as a stream of liquid surges from you that drenches the sheets and Toji’s shaft. It’s a blinding white light, and you go limp through the violent spasms.  

“Ohhh shit, that’s it baby, take everything I give you” he rasps. Toji shoulders your dead weight with ease, going silent, then plummeting you to the hilt. His balls tighten, and he manages some slushy pumps before he comes. He spurts thick, hot globs that paint and crowd your walls with greed. You milk him dry as he bucks. It overflows to trickling down his length, and his muscles quiver as he comes down from his high. His staggering pants reduce to hitching, and he relaxes your exhausted limbs. 

Toji drives out and turns you around. You’re edging unconsciousness, sporadic jolts and innocent sobs carrying in your scratched throat. “I know. Breathe, baby.” He brings you flush with his chest, and you absorb his gentle puffs, the methodical beat of his heart. “You okay?” You’re unresponsive, gathering yourself in an incomplete collage of thoughts. You want to talk but it dissipates on your tongue. He rubs your back and kisses your forehead.  

Then it’s muted; solely the dwindling rate at which your heart races, and the tender smooches Toji dots on your face as you cuddle. When you open your eyes, the sheets are changed, and you’re cleaned. Clearly some time has passed. You sit, and Toji comes out the bathroom, running water in the background. “How ya feelin’?” 

You wince at the blunt thrum in your vulva, “Okay. How long was I out?” 

“Like half an hour. Up for a bath?” You don’t have the energy to move your body. Toji scoops you bridal style and leads you to the bathroom. You found it amusing how considerate he was after wrecking your brain. 

Toji spoons a generous quantity of Epson salt into the corner jet tub. He helps you in and joins once you’re stable. It’s a lavish proportion, but you decide to be next to him. Your head situates on your forearms over the tub rim while Toji sloshes water onto your back. The steam and serene jets below ship you to a luxury vacation on a tropical island, its quality comparable to spas with extensive dollar signs. You study each other. 

“I’ll let you get whatever you need from your place.” You knit your brows, “For what?” 

“You live with me.” You simper at his audacity.  

“So, you’re the decision maker now?” 

“For this, yes. Can’t risk you runnin’ off again.” 

“It’s your fault I left.” He pauses, brushing your cheek with his thumb. “I know. I’m sorry.” 

A piece of you becomes whole at his acknowledgement. There are no petty jabs to be had where lingering truths wade in the mist. “Never thought I’d hear an apology from you.”  

“It’s overdue. I was a dick, and I should’ve never treated you like that. Was tryna sort out my shit, but I didn’t have to take it out on ya.” 

The corner of your mouth quirks up. “Sorry...but not sorry enough to let me go?” 

 “No. You need nobody but me.” 

You chortle, and he cracks a smirk. “Arrogant asshole.”   

“I love you, too.” 

[stealingyourbones]

I don't really get the people who think reading the comics is such a radical idea. Don't they want to learn more about them? aren't they curious what makes them tick? what insane adventures they went on? what fears they have? what makes them laugh and smile? I'm from europe so I haven't seen any of the DC shows I see mentioned every once in a while (which means I really don't get the whole Clark hates clones thing... but that's a different thing) and it's only been this year that I have enough disposable income to splurge on comics, aka I haven't read that many just yet.

But I do think the ones I have read enhance the stories I'm trying to tell, which to me is a good reason to read them ;p but besides that, they are fun! they are just really fun to read

I’m glad you’re having fun reading comics man! It’s a shame that folks don’t read them as much but you know, I can understand it. I both asked some folks in the Haunting Heroes discord server and have some of my own points to make about this.

First of all I do still believe that you should consume some form of DC media if you’re in the fandom. It’s fun and there are comics, books, movies, tv shows, and every other form of medium known to man that you can take a peek at! Idk I’m just a bit DC enjoyer and think that looking at canon media to expand on your knowledge and help create ideas you wouldn’t have had if you hadn’t looked at said piece of media.

Now onto why reading comic books is hard:

Some folks simply prefer the fandom and not the official DC content. Whether they prefer fanon, find fics more accessible, or like the people in the fandom, they’d rather just stick to the fandom.

They simply don’t know where to start. Getting into comics can be INCREDIBLY overwhelming ( DC has done their best to fix this and has messed up more than once. My go to is to reccomend folks just start reading New 52 comic runs as it’s really good for new readers to jump into the comics with any hero that might intrigue them). Big comic events span multiple comic story runs and not a cohesive line of comics, some omnibuses for stories are out of print, the 80+ years of comics are daunting as hell, and everyone has their own opinion on the best versions of a character/where to start/what to read.

Money. Comics are an expensive hobby to have. They may cost $1-$5 each on average but that price adds up over time. I have a comic collection of roughly 1,300 comics. I’d estimate its value very roughly around the $7,800 range. It’s probably far more than that though and I know damn well reselling it I won’t get half of that value back. I’m very fortunate to be a college student with disposable income and for this hobby to be the only thing I ever really spend money on besides rent and food. Some people either can’t afford them or don’t want to buy a comic they don’t know if it’s good or not.

Varying quality. Comics are a very mixed bag thing where they can be incredibly written or some of the worst pieces of media you’ve ever read. With this being the case, it can be really hard to find a comic character or writer you like if that’s your first experience. It takes a while to learn about different writers and find out who your favorite writers are. What’s harder is some writers can make absolute masterpieces with one character and the next comic run they cover it can be absolute garbage. Not only that, everyone has opinions on what is a good comic run or not. It’s impossible to find a repeatedly stated and easily accessible list on the good comics to read.

Pretentious “Canon is God” fans. Experiencing “um actually this isn’t good because this isn’t how the canon character would act” responses from people can really fucking suck and diminish their want to experience anything that’s official DC writing. I’ve seen more than one person go into this primarily fanon focused space and insult people saying their writing isn’t canonical and therefore it isn’t valid. It’s Uber Pretentious, demeaning, and actively harms peoples interests in checking out canon content.

Timelines. I already kind of said it but DC’s timelines are a mess. hell, even New 52 has some fucked up timelines making all of Batman’s previous timelines canon but happen only within a seven year period. That’s WAY too short for how much history is packed in there. The amount of crisises that happen and fully change the lore and timelines of characters is bonkers, the comic runs that bounce between different comic runs are really confusing, and the fact that there isn’t a True Starting Point for reading makes it so hard to grasp anything that’s happening. It’s one of comics biggest issues and no matter what DC has done they have yet to find a convenient solution.

Sensitive Content. Comics from DC are littered with either intentional, badly aged, or ignorantly written plot points and writing choices that will turn away readers. DC has its fair share of sexism, misogyny, abelism, racism, abuse, sexual harassment, sexual assaults, or topics casually addressed that can be very triggering for some people. Especially since a large amount of that sort of content is handled incredibly poorly. One particular writer, Alan Moore, writes sexual assault scenes with absolutely zero tact or the delicateness that a topic such as that should be held in. It’s almost solely used as a “let’s make the bad guy do the most fucked up thing they could do” throwaway plot point. Comics of the sort dissuade a lot of readers because of both the heavy content within comics and how that content can be incredibly poorly handled. This is partially why some folks would prefer to read fics. Comics are a unknown mixed grab bag when it comes to content like this and things exactly like this is known to make PTSD symptoms worse while fics have tags and can warn you before you consume the content within.

Time. A lot of folks have busy lives and just don’t have the time to read them.

The ways they intake media. Some folks might have a better time watching a long commentary video that explains a comic or their brain can’t process the comic medium very well. I can read and retain comic knowledge but even I am unique in this aspect, my memory is frightening levels of bad and is proven by science to be absolute shit. I have to reread comics at least once a month to retain the basic bare bones plot. Just because one person can easily digest what’s going on in a comic doesn’t mean everyone can.

Comics are such a big part of my life. I love them so much and they’ve gotten me through so many things. My own experience with comics isn’t the same for others and my thoughts on reading comics differs with other people. A lot of people have equally as many reasons for why they don’t read comics as you and I have for reading them.

[notjoelmiller]

i cared

MDNI simon "ghost" riley x f!reader summary: three and a half years ago and an ocean away, he tore you apart. now he's turned up at your door. wordcount: 4.1k warnings: smut (fingering), drinking, AFAB reader, possible past dub-con (reader was in a bad mental state and simon knew), simon is a shitty guy in this, talk of hypothetical suicide, talk of past bad mental state (depression), mentioned PTSD, heartbreak on both sides, death mention (MW:III canon) a/n: hey remember when i said that my next fic would be joel and i posted a little insert. that was a lie! instead of working on that (12k word, currently) monster, i wrote something else. if you couldn't tell, i started this before the holidays and then forgot about it.

ao3

The house is much nicer than Simon anticipated. When he saw the New York City address, he had expected you to be crammed into a shitty 6th-floor walk-up. But no, not you. Instead, you have an honest-to-God three-story home with red brick delicately dusted with snow. You certainly couldn’t afford it on the 141 salary. He always suspected you came from means. This just confirms it. It just makes him wonder why the hell you decided to slum it in the services for so long.

It reminds Simon that he shouldn’t be there. You weren't made for that life and left for a reason. Who is he to ruin your peace?

He’s not alone on the street. Well-to-do families of strangers pass by, all watching the masked man observe their neighbor’s home. He can still turn around and leave you to the life you so clearly want.

Something shifts in one of the windows, the curtain being tousled by something. A dog. You got a dog– a golden retriever with sharp eyes and, evidently, an even sharper bark. The canine goes berserk, barking and howling and growling at Simon through the window. It’s Simon’s cue to leave, to leave you be with your semi-rabid, semi-domestic canine.

But before he can move, the curtain shifts again– pulled this time –and you’re there. You squint for a moment, surely wondering what masked freak is standing in your walkway like he owns the damn place. He lets you scrutinize him. It’s now or never. Either you’ll tell him to fuck off once you realize who he is or you’ll call the police on him, though it’s not like they would do anything after he calls Kate.

Instead, you disappear behind the curtain, your loyal steed of a dog following hot on your heels. In a moment’s notice, the large front door, with a gilded knocker and door knob open. You beckon him in. He follows, eyes trailing up and down your body once you’re facing away from him. You’re dressed casually but smartly in a short denim skirt and cashmere sweater. Simon’s never seen you in that getup before, even when going out to the pub.

“Shoes off,” you order, motioning towards the neat shoe rack next to the door. They’re all women's shoes of the same size. Simon’s shoulders relax, and he slips off his boots. It was for the best, he figures. His old boots would have just dragged dirt into your space. He takes off his mask too, hanging it up with his jacket. It’s nothing you haven't seen before.

Simon follows you into the sitting room– at least, that’s what Simon guesses the room is. It’s too neat for your taste, or his memory of what your taste is exactly. The couch and single chair seem untouched, the air still, like Simon’s presence is cutting through some sacred stillness.

You point to a couch and Simon obeys, sitting with his hands on his knees. Your eyes lock with his without granting him any semblance of your thoughts. Simon keeps his gaze soft, neutral. You can scrutinize him all you need.

You sigh, straightening your posture. A smile pulls at your lips. Your smile lines crease deeper than he remembered. Or maybe they always creased that deep.

“Tea?”

***

“He’s quite protective,” you drop two sugar cubes into a cup of tea. The spoon in your hand lets out a delicate tink as it hits the porcelain cup. You hand Simon the teacup, it’s just how he likes it. “Always has his haunches raised, even when he’s not working.”

Ah. A service animal. He’s surprised to not have put that together sooner. Always loyal, the pooch plants himself at your feet, gaze burning into Simon. If looks could kill…

“Your home?” Simon asks. He lifts the teacup to his lips and sips. Simon places the teacup on its saucer impossibly slowly. Simon can’t believe you’d trust him with something so delicate.

“I inherited it.”

A smile creeps on Simon’s face. Teacups and generational wealth. He always knew you were posh. Or whatever Americans call posh.

“You’re on holiday?” You ask.

“‘Tis the season.”

You hum. Your house is the only one on the block without some sort of holiday decor. Simon wonders if it was a pointed decision.

“And you came here.” Why?

He can’t tell you the truth. The fact is that every day since you left– all one thousand two hundred ninety-eight of them since John uttered to his fuming lieutenant that you just weren’t fit to serve any more –he’s ached. One thousand two hundred ninety-eight days of no contact. Of his only proof that you ever existed being a photo and a tear-stained note with one sentence scribbled in ink: John has contact info– emergencies only.

“I wanted to wish you a happy holidays.”

You laugh dryly, though it sends a pang of pain through Simon. He hadn’t realized how much he missed that sound. “Usually people send a card for that.”

You observe Simon with precision, like you never left the force, though the way you scratch Yogi’s belly unconsciously betrays the hardened exterior. It’s a glimpse into the last three and a half years. Of the woman you’ve become– so foreign to Simon. Foreign to your past self. Or not. Maybe this is who you’ve been all along, just hidden behind fatigues. Maybe the woman Simon thought he knew was just a farce. Rich girl playing army for a few years.

Maybe you joined the force just to fuck around for a bit. After a few years, you’d have stories to tell your socialite friends back home. Except, you didn’t get what you wanted, didn’t you? Simon knows well and good that serving, the 141, and him, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, destroyed something in you. 

You tap the porcelain of your teacup. It makes a pleasant ding. “Did John tell you where to find me?”

“No. Well–” Simon tries to tell you the truth without throwing his comrade under the bus. The truth was, John had indulged in one too many drinks at the pub one night and hadn’t locked his quarters. An envelope addressed to you sat front in center on his desk. “Not intentionally.”

It’s a satisfying enough answer. Only a small twinge of annoyance crosses your face before you hum. “This isn’t a guilt thing, right Simon?” You ask, “I didn’t do what I did because of what happened.”

“What we did back then, on the field,” Simon traps you under his gaze. His stare is aggressive, but he hopes it conveys the intense feelings he’s struggling with. “I can’t just leave it. That’s why I came.”

Simon doesn’t dare speak. He doesn’t dare breathe while he watches you process his words. It’s a load of crap, he knows it, and he knows you know it. It’s just a matter of whether or not you want to kick him out.

You smize, teeth coming out to tug at your bottom lip. “Have you ever had New York pizza?”

***

You order two pies, hushing Simon when he insists it’s too much. You were right. Two isn’t enough. Simon scarfs down one pie without coming up for air. It’s delicious. It isn’t until he’s four slices deep that he realizes that you, smiling widely at him, haven’t yet picked up your first.

You’re a gracious host– a natural, really. You perch yourself on the kitchen island, legs crossed in a way that makes your skirt ride so sinfully up your thighs. Simon doesn’t look of course, he’s a gentleman. At least, he is for the first bottle of the ungodly expensive red wine you procure. It’s then that you perch your leg on the counter opposite your spot on the island, right next to Simon. Old habits die hard– especially when inebriated –and Simon places a hand on your leg, massaging the skin of your ankle.

You pay no mind to Simon’s ministrations, though, lost in the domestic bliss and mindless conversations you’ve probably been drowning yourself in for the last few years. You wave the glass of wine wildly about, like you wouldn’t give a damn if it spilled all over your expensive clothes. It seems so natural for you. Simon wonders what you were ever doing with the 141 when posh city living fits you like a second skin.

Simon inches his hand higher up your leg as you speak. He doesn’t get very far, but it’s enough so that he can trace patterns into the soft skin of your thigh. It’s too much, though, because your eyes lock onto his. But you’re not mad. You don’t tell him to stop. Rather, you examine him, and in your eyes Simon sees what looks like mirth.

“I missed this,” Simon says. He cringes at the words leaving his mouth. He’s succumbing to the domestic bliss you’ve created, looking at the past through rose-tinted glasses.

You reach for a third bottle of wine and a corkscrew, furrowing your brow in thought while twisting the screw. “I didn't want to abandon you,” you say. Simon, watching you pop the cork off with ease, almost forgets that you’re talking to him until you lock eyes. He watches you sniff the cork, pause, then sniff it again before topping off your glass. You take a heaping swig, like that Pinot Noir worth more than Simon’s monthly pay is unremarkable. “I left for a reason, you know.”

Oh, Simon certainly knows. The rumors had been inescapable in the first weeks of your absence. All around base every soldier had entertained the question of what happened to the American chick in the 141. Simon had only so many threatening looks to give privates before curiosity got the better of him. He abated the desire to ask John for so long, but there was only so much longing he could handle coupled with the cacophony of voices asking the same thing he desperately wanted to know.

John didn’t flounder when Simon finally came to him, demanding to know why you left.

She was discharged.

Why?

For… mental reasons.

Simon lost his shit in Price’s office that morning. He collapsed onto the couch with a gasp, a hand grasping and squeezing his heart. His breath left him, but Simon was too bloody stupid to understand what the hell was going on until Price was handing him a brown paper bag.

Breathe, son.

“Simon,” you breathe, your saccharine voice the most tantalizing sound Simon has ever heard. You lean forward, your finger tracing the scar parallel to the cut of his jaw. You were there for it, saw the knife slice through his mask and the skin underneath. You bandaged it in the helicopter after, making Simon promise to go to medical afterwards. He promised he would. That night he closed the wound with superglue. “Why did you really come?”

Because you disappeared. Because Price said you were on the brink of becoming a statistic. Because I fucked up. Because I said things I didn’t mean and I thought that it killed you.

“Johnny’s dead,” he lies. But it isn’t a lie. It’s true, sure, Johnny’s been reduced to ashes and scattered in the Scottish highlands. But that isn't why he came.

“I know.” You sniffle. Christ, Simon’s made you cry. Nausea washes over him. A voice in his head screams, fix it, idiot! But emotions were never Simon’s strong suit. Instead, Simon reaches for the bottle and tops off your glass of wine, probably a bit more than he should have, but it seems like you need it.

You mutter a thank you and down a bit more than half of the glass. You come up for air and hiccup. “John told me.”

“Price?” He asks, as though there was any other John. Anything to get you talking rather than crying.

You nod. “He dropped by around Thanksgiving. Asked if I wanted to be there when you all…” You wave your hand in the air, “You know.”

Something ugly festers in his chest. Maybe if he actually went to a therapist, Simon could recognize what it is.

“You said no?” He asks.

“I didn’t think I could.”

Simon nods, holding your gaze in a way that he hopes conveys his sense of understanding.

“How’d it happen?” You croak. Your eyes are glassy, a reminder of the ever-looming threat that you could fall apart again. Simon reminds himself that you wouldn’t be crying if he had just kept his distance.

“Bullet in the head.”

You tense, your head flying to Simon. Your eyes are frantic, searching for something in his face. “He…he…?”

Christ. 

“No, no,” Simon scrambles to get his next words out, “Makarov. It was-” His voice cracks. Unusual. “-was too fast to stop it. To save himself.”

You hum, slumping down like it’s comforting to you that Johnny had his life torn from his arms. Like it’s comforting that Johnny couldn’t go on his own terms, but on the terms of a Russian terrorist.

“You know,” you say like you know he knows, “Johnny’s the reason I got out.”

Simon shifts. Johnny never talked about your discharge, always responding to speculation like he was none the wiser. “He is?”

“Yeah,” you laugh. It’s deep and watery. “Things were…bad one night. He found me. Talked me through the night. Listened to me.” You throw your head back, eyes tracing imaginary patterns on the ceiling.

“He told Price?”

You nod.

“That was after we…”

You nod again. Simon feels sick.

“It had nothing to do with you, Simon.”

“I never thought it did.”

“Then why,” you ask, “did you bring it up?”

Simon shifts. “Thought it was relevant.”

You smile, though your eyes are still lined with tears. “Guilty conscience?”

“Of course not, love,” Simon laughs, hoping you buy it. It works, he thinks. You seem to deflate, slumping a bit. You take some time to think. Simon, panicking at the thought that your self-reflection could send him out the door, pulls out the one trick he has over you.

He lets your legs fall. They bang against the cabinets with a soft umph from your lips. Simon slides off of the counter and stalks your way. You watch him and put up no fight as he slots his wide body between your knees. You don't even complain as the parting of your legs forces your skirt to ride even higher.

Fingers card through Simon’s hair. He hums.

“Why did you do it?” You ask.

Simon tilts his head, and with the wine in his veins and your hand in his hair, the world spins. Your other hand slips under the hem of Simon’s shirt. Warm fingers graze the skin of his stomach and then side, before your hand settles on his back, palm splaying across scarred flesh.

“I–” Simon croaks, “–I felt something for you.”

You snort. Simon’s chest burns and he takes some deep breaths to calm himself. He imagines Price’s paper bag, inflating and crinkling over and over.

“You knew I would leave. That’s it, isn’t it?” You accuse with a gleam in your eyes. “I was in a bad place and was leaving so it didn’t matter if you hit it and quit it.” You laugh. “You got what you wanted without risking your position.”

“That’s not true.”

Your thighs bracket his legs, trapping him against you. Your words curl around your wine-stained tongue. “‘I don’t love you’. Isn’t that what you said Simon?”

“Love–”

You tense, thighs squeezing him like a vice. “Love,” you coo, the imitation of Simon’s long vowels curtles unnaturally on your tongue. “Love, love, love. You know Simon,” you wrap your hands around the back of his neck and lean into the crook of his neck. Your lips brush against his skin as you speak, “You say it, but you’ve never meant it.”

“I’m sorry,” Simon utters, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your skirt.

“You’re not.”

He’s not. He doesn’t argue. He could– should, rather –but he can’t think straight with you this close to him. The scent of your perfume itches the deepest part of his brain. You never wore perfume when on duty, rather, always coated in the aroma of base-issued shampoo and sweat.

“I really cared for you, you know,” you whisper, your lips millimeters from his, them parting when his fingers rub you through the fabric of your underwear.

“I know,” Simon closes the distance, capturing your lips with his.

He pushes you back onto the counter, you let him, lets Simon cage your body like he has the right to. You groan into his mouth when he traps your bottom lip between his teeth and melt when his fingers slip past the hem of your panties, his fingers plunging through the wetness into your cunt.

It’s obscene— the noises you make as he thrusts his fingers into you. With his free hand, Simon pushes your skirt up over your hips so he can watch your cunt squeeze around him.

He slides his thumb up to your clit and you gasp. “Simon,” you moan. He nearly stops. It’s been years since he’s heard you say his name, let alone moan it. Fuck, Simon can’t help but grind his cock against the island counter, groaning.

It doesn’t take much to work you into an orgasm. Before he knows it, your moans become softer, higher pitched, and you’re coming apart, clenching hard on Simon’s fingers.

He works you through your orgasm, whispering praise into your ears. Simon gives you no time before pouncing, fisting his hands in your hair and devouring you. You wiggle underneath his weight, uttering something, but the words are lost into Simon’s mouth. He pulls away, his eyes meeting your expectant ones.

“What?”

“Upstairs,” you say, chest heaving. “My room is upstairs.”

***

Simon wakes before dawn. He’s lying on top of you, your strong breath rocking him up and down. Your limbs are impossibly tangled. He’s reminded of an identical morning, years ago, of what he did then, and what that choice led him to. But that was years ago. You were different then, broken. How was he supposed to know that his choice would make you shatter?

He untangles himself slowly. It feels like the process takes hours, though the sun fails to make an appearance by the time he slips out of bed. The clock reads four in the morning. That explains it. It also explains the way the room around him is spinning slightly. He’s still drunk– or at least buzzed –from the night before.

His pants are an easy find, discarded by the door. His shirt though… Simon spins around the room, eyes glazing over the space. He tries not to take anything in too deeply, too personal for this morning.

He spots his shirt on your vanity. Simon yanks it off, but something hard and heavy comes with it. It nearly drops to the floor, but Simon catches it before it can hit and wake you up.

It’s a perfume bottle, heavy and half-filled. Simon can’t suppress the urge of his half-drunk brain to sniff it. The scent— the scent of you —explodes in his synapses. He tosses a glance over his shoulder, ensuring you’re still asleep, before pocketing the bottle.

The dog follows Simon as he walks through the house. Luckily, as he slips on his shoes, the dog disappears into the rest of the house.

Simon lingers with a hand wrapped around the door knob. It warms under his touch.

“Are we doing this again?”

He flinches at the sound of your voice, “I ‘ave to.” Simon stays facing the door, though he doesn’t make a move to turn around. He knows how he must look to you, too cowardly to face you. He’s reminded of the last time he spent the night with you. He got out scot-free. What would have happened if you found him then? Simon can’t say for certain whether or not he would have left then, if you called out for him in the same delicate voice.

“Stay.”

“What?”

“In New York,” you say, voice dry with sleep. “With me. Get out of the SAS, the 141, all that bullshit.”

“‘S not that easy.”

“It is. I left. You can leave. Or you can stay and end up like Johnny–”

“What do you know about Johnny,’ Simon growls, turning on his heels. He straightens his spine, puffing his chest up like you’re a threat. Your dog buys it, growling and worming himself between you and Simon. You don't take the bait though. You honest to God laugh in Simon’s face.

“I know enough.” You step closer to Simon. The pooch gets the memo, clearing the way for you. Simon almost does the same, he wants to. Some instinctual part of his brain needs to cave to you. “You mean something, Simon,” you flick your eyebrows up, letting them drop immediately. It feels like a challenge, like you were asking Simon the silent question. Do you matter? 

“You’re more than a soldier– more than a body on a field, waiting to drop.” There are tears in your eyes. You don't let them fall. Simon hopes you’ve finally realized that he isn’t worth your heartbreak. He’s never been, but at least your realization would stop his cruel cycle of him chewing you up and spitting you right back out.

“Come to New York, Simon, please. There– there’s a butcher shop up the block, they’re always looking for help. You said you used to do that stuff, right?”

Fucking hell. He had said it to you, years ago after a mission. Simon went drink for drink with Johnny and Gaz and got positively wasted. It was the night he first set his sight on you, when your tenderness sunk its claws into his heart and refused to let go. You didn’t know then what it would lead to. Simon did. Every love Simon had wilted in his claws. Why would you be different?

“Come here,” you plead, “Take the job with them. I can help you find an apartment or you can live with me but–” You grab Simon’s shoulders, tugging. It isn’t strong enough to turn him around, but he does. Your cheeks are wet and eyes glassy as you stare up at him. “Simon, it’s too late for us, but don’t let it be too late for you.”

Simon lifts his hand to your cheek, fingers grazing the plump skin. It slides to the back of your head and tugs– yanks you into his embrace as he crashes your lips against his own. The morning makes you soft though, as Simon nips your lips with his teeth, you melt, softening and slowing your movements.

It’s you that pulls away first, staring at Simon. You let him swipe his finger across your cheek, caressing you.

“Please,” you beg, kissing the palm of his hand.

Simon lets his hand fall from you. It sits achingly cold at his side.

It would be cowardly to leave you without a goodbye after forcing himself back into your life, even if it was for one night. Simon considers himself to be many things, but never a coward. Yet, standing in front of you, staring into your expectant eyes, words don’t come easy.

You step towards him. Simon steps back. The door knob presses into his back. His heart is pounding, the blood in his eyes deafening him. Your scent wafts his way, your perfume. The one whose bottle he knocked over, nearly let slip through his fingers and shatter. The one which you never got to wear in the 141. The one weighing down his back pocket.

“I shouldn’t have come,” Simon says.

He doesn’t look back. Not when you gasp his name. Not when he opens the door. Not when he walks down the snowy street.

Price and Gaz will ask about his holiday. They’re kind like that. In the cab to the airport, passing the bottle of perfume between his hands, Simon considers his answer. Single word answers are his forté, but won’t suffice with the prying curiosities of his captain and sergeant.

The answer comes to him when he sniffs the perfume once more.

In the coming week, when Gaz claps him on the back, he will ask, “How was the holiday, Ghost?”

Simon will answer, “I had a meal with an old friend.”

[undeadcannibal]

imagine one of the Fem! rookies getting lil skeleton hands tattooed on her hands, and ghost just-

*INSTANT BONER*

Summary: Ghost can’t help but be turned on when he notices the Recruits’ new tattoos. Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley/Reader

Genre: One-shot, request(s) Word count: 1,138

Warnings: Mature rating, mention(s) of sexual acts.

A/N: Ooh, I had fun with this one, Anon. Was tempted to turn it into a full fic, but figured I’d be an asshole and tease y’all since I write tons of smut otherwise. Whoops! Anywho, thank you so much for the request, Anon. I hope y’all enjoy it~ Also, I apologize if this has a lot of mistakes. I’ve been slammed with allergies, mental stuff, and work, so I’m all sorts of fucked lol. ( Gif credit: xxx )

Ghost paid little mind to most of the rookies they trained. At least, he had before until he'd met you a few months back. Price had mentioned to 141 he was interested in possibly having each of them bring some new recruits under their wing to help show them the ropes. He figured if anyone could get any of them ready, it'd be his boys. Each of them eventually had someone signed to them to help train. Ghost's recruit certainly was interesting, to say the least. 

John had figured with Ghost being more reserved than the rest of the group, it might be easier if he had a recruit that kept to themselves more than the rest. He was thankful for that. The less he had to worry about babysitting, the better. Thankfully, that never seemed to be the case with the recruit Price had assigned to him. 

You went by the call sign Mouse. 

At first, he'd assumed it was for your small stature, but after he'd heard whispers from the others, he quickly realized it was due to your specialty for silence and speed. Apparently, you were just as quiet as you were quick in your fieldwork. That he could appreciate. Yet, aside from that, he didn't know much about you even after weeks of training together. 

Aside from learning the truth behind your call sign, he'd also come to notice that - surprisingly - you were covered in numerous tattoos.

Every time the two of you sparred together, he found himself discovering a new tattoo he hadn't seen before or a blank spot that had yet to be filled with ink. 

Eventually, somewhere around the two-month mark, he found himself asking you about them after a successful session. You'd finally managed to break out of a particular grapple you were struggling with thanks to the size difference between you two. However, Ghost refused to relent until you'd gotten the hang of it. Your enemies wouldn't play fair if they towered over you, so he had to prepare you for any sort of outcome to give you the best chance of survival possible. Still, that didn't mean he was so strict as to not celebrate the small victories. 

As the two of you were hydrating after training, he'd found it in him to comment on your tattoos for whatever reason. 

"Noticed you had a blank spot there." He'd comment, glancing down at the blank space of flesh on your hands. It'd surprised him to see your arms covered yet you still had yet to choose something for them. Maybe you didn't care for hand tattoos, he wondered... 

"Have any plans for 'em?" 

You paused in bringing your water bottle to your lips, pursing them as you hummed softly. Seemingly debating on how to answer his question. 

"Mm, yeah... I've got a few ideas in mind for them, but have yet to settle on anything yet." 

He was content to leave it at that had it not been for your next response. 

"I've got a few ideas in mind but haven't settled on anything just yet. Tell you what though, when I do get those spots filled in, you'll be the first one I show them to." 

By the time that'd happened, it'd been a few months later and he'd pretty much forgotten the interaction until he'd bumped into you again on his way out for a smoke break. You'd stopped to say hi and chat for a bit before he suddenly saw your eyes widening. A giddy smile broke out on your face shortly afterward. 

"Oh, I nearly forgot!" Raising the sleeves of your long sleeve top, you also quickly rid yourself of those pair of gloves he often saw you wearing. "Check out the new tattoos I got while I was back home." 

With your forearms and hands bare to him, he could see the fresh, black ink now covering the spaces on your appendages that previously clear soft skin. 

The moment he realized what the tattoos were, Simon was thankful for the strait-laced control of his reactions. Certain if he wasn't so strict with himself that he'd be giving off numerous micro-expressions showing his interest in your new pieces. 

Of all the tattoos you had to get, it just had to be a stylistic representation of your wrists and hands skeletal system. 

Rationally, he understood that the new set of ink likely had no meaning behind it - most of his own didn't - but a smaller, possibly more primal part of him wanted to puff up his chest. Preen at the thought of everything you could have chosen, it was something similar to the gloves he often wore himself. Only much more permanent. And attractive. 

Fucking hell, he was down bad over something that meant nothing at all. 

Just so he didn't break down and smile, Ghost took a long and deep drag of his cigarette before exhaling the entirety of the smoke from his lungs. Watching the vapors dissipate entirely before finally having it in him to look at you once again. 

"How'd you do during the fingers and knuckles?" 

You laughed sweetly and softly, causing him to feel an odd sense of pride in being the cause behind that laughter. Especially when he took notice of the way your cheeks appeared even softer and rounder than usual as you did so. 

Eyes down, soldier. Look at the tattoos, not her damn squishable cheeks. 

Watching you wiggle your fingers in his direction, you grinned up at him cheekily. 

"Pain comes with the territory. Besides, I kinda enjoy that type of pain, and it's also a hell of a lot cheaper than therapy." You joked. 

Simon felt like a pitiful man when he felt the familiar stirring of arousal deep within his lower belly shortly after. His mind already drifting towards mental images of you down on your knees before him. Opening his pants just so you could wrap those tattooed fingers around the base of his cock. Stroke him till he grew hard and began to twitch within your palms. Eventually - given your permission - he'd paint the dark ink with his release, claiming you in a way and--

He needed to stop his thoughts before he began to spiral down the rabbit hole that was his sudden lewd thoughts that came on with your new tattoos. 

He was going to need another cigarette as soon as he finished his first one. 

Clearing his throat, Simon glanced at you with dilated, bright eyes. 

"They look good on you, kid." 

Even if he wouldn't admit it aloud, Ghost secretly saw it as a secret bond between the two of you.

Now, you had a permanent mark of his favorite pair of gloves on your body.

The thought alone turned him on much more than he'd ever thought possible. 

[jeonbunnie]

love is gone

pairing: reader x jeon jeongguk

anon suggested: “I had this idea for a fic it's angst with a lot of heartbreak with soft smut based on love is gone by Slander ft. Dylan Matthew, basically the oc and jungkook have been in a relationship for two years but recently she's felt him drifting away from her and things aren't the way it used to be so she plans a super cute date night in hopes of saving their relationship which he agrees too but he doesn't come home that evening....when he does come home the next day and mentions they have to talk she knows what he's going to say but she thinks if she can show him one more time he'll feel how much she loves him...but in the end his love is gone.”

summary: Jeongguk tries to let you down easy.

genre: angst; smut; 18+;

content/warnings: POV shifts; boyfriend!jeongguk; established relationship;break up!au; hurt/comfort; make up sex (kinda lol); fingering,unprotected sex

soundtrack: love is gone— by slander ft.Dylan Matthew (highly recommend listening to the acoustic ver)

a/n: writing this made me… 😮‍💨 mark me down as sad and horny byeeeeeeeee. Also reader has brown eyes bc of reasons. Brown eyed girl supremacy, mwah!

word count: 1.4K

♪ It tears me up when you turn me down. I'm begging please, just stick around♪

"Baby, let's talk."

Something about the way he said it made your heart crack. The tone of his voice, the softness of Jeongguk's words, there's a finality to it all that made you anxious for what came next.

"Can you come with me for a minute?"

You didn't want to have this conversation. You already knew where it would lead.

Everything in you wants to say no. But it's the first time you've seen Jeongguk in 24 hours and the first time he's held your hand in weeks, so you let him lead you outside, helpless against his touch.

You couldn't face him when you sat down on the park bench, and you're sure the words you've been avoiding will be written all over his expression, so instead, you look out at the horizon.

It was hurting you. Sitting at the bench with Jeongguk so close but so far away, the distance between you verging on strangers.

You had half a mind to lash out and accuse him of breaking up with you in public so you could accept it quietly and not cause a scene. But you know him.

You know your boyfriend was kind and gentle-hearted. He probably brought you out here because you loved sunsets, and he wanted to give you a nice memory even as he said goodbye.

In the distance, the sunset was a red-orangey glow, casting everything the light touched in golden warmth—but you can't feel it. All you feel is ice-cold dread for what's about to happen.

So you beat him to the punch. "You're breaking up with me, aren't you?"

All the air rushed out of Jeongguk in a sigh. "Am I that obvious?"

You would have laughed at his question if it hadn't hurt you so much. "You've been avoiding me all week. Last night, you asked me for space, and now you want to 'talk.' We haven't talked in days. I might be blindly in love with you, but I'm not an idiot," you said, trying hard to keep the words from coming out bitter.

Jeongguk ran a hand through his hair, nerves on edge. Masked behind your anger, he could hear the hurt in your voice, and he hated being the cause of it. This wasn't easy for him, letting you go. But he couldn't keep you either.

"I think," he started. "I think we should start seeing other people."

At his confirmation, a hot tear slid down your cheek. Before you could wipe the tear yourself, Jeongguk reached out, closing the distance between you, and brushed the tear away with his thumb. He never could stand seeing you cry.

"Did I do something wrong?" You asked, barely keeping yourself together.

"No. Of course not. It's not you—"

"—It's me?" You finished, offering him a wobbly smile. "You don't have to say that just to be nice."

The look on your face made Jeongguk's chest ache so much he could barely breathe. "I don't wanna hurt you. . ."

"But you don't want to stay either?"

He doesn't answer that question; somehow, the silence between you only makes you feel worse.

"I see. . . "you said, nodding your head. "So that's why you didn't come home last night."

You fell asleep on the couch, waiting for him to find his way back to you so the picnic basket you packed remained untouched on the counter. You thought you could remind him of how great things used to be by recreating your first date at the park.

It involved fairy lights, wine, and homemade sweets filled with the love you hoped to remind him of. The love you hoped was still there.

Now you realize Jeongguk was never going to come back home to you. Not last night or any night after.

In a way, you're grateful. Considering the surprise you had planned, it would have been embarrassing if he had come home the night before.

Of course, you still made it to the park, but the situation was dramatically different now. But instead of making up, you were breaking apart.

"I'm sure you noticed how different things are between us now," said Jeonggguk. "Last night, I needed time alone to think. I tried to imagine myself without you. And the thing is, I could….and it all felt so."

You bit your lip, holding back more tears. "Is there anything I can do to convince you to stay?"

Jeongguk was quiet for a moment, and hope built in your chest, but it died just as quickly when you saw him shake his head no.

Jeongguk forced his face to stay neutral. "I will always love you, but just not in the way I wish I still could."

"So this is it then? We're over? Just like that?"

You want to cry, scream, and beg, but Jeongguk is still and calm beside you. So calm you know he's already decided to end things, and you know him well enough to know how stubborn he is that he won't change his mind now that he's made it up.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I understand if you don't want to be around me, I've already made plans to stay at Joons tonight if you prefer me gone."

That was the last thing you wanted. "No," You said, pushing down the sobs that threatened to come from your mouth. "Can you stay, please?"

Jeongguk hesitated, looking away from the face of the setting sun. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea…" He didn't want to give you the wrong impression that there was any way to salvage your relationship. And more than that, he didn't want to lose his resolve because a night with you would make it that much harder to walk away.

"Just for tonight? I don't wanna be alone." It felt stupid to want him there now when he was the cause of your pain, but Jeongguk was one of the few people in your life who knew how to comfort you. You wanted him close, even at the most inopportune moment.

The word 'no' was at the tip of his tongue, but he turned to look at you, and the hurt he found there in your big brown eyes had him saying 'yes.'

And he knows he shouldn't, but Jeongguk can't help but comfort you like he always has. Even though you broke up, it didn't change the fact that he still cared for you, still had love for you. He told himself it was just a reflex that had him reaching for your hand on the walk back home.

It's reflex that has him curling up next to you in bed and wrapping his arms around your waist to be the big spoon, as always.

Reflex that has him kissing away your tears, neck, and shoulder.

Reflex that has his hands sliding underneath your clothes to rub you through your underwear, desperate to make you feel good.

At least, that's what he tells himself.

And before he knows it, he's sinking into you with a groan, getting lost in the familiar warmth of your body.

You're so wet it was easy to slip inside, and even though he's already inside you, so close, naked body flush against yours—it's not enough.

Jeongguk still wanted more.

He couldn't help but grip your thigh, lifting your leg to push in deeper, to feel more of you as his cock slid in and out of your heat.

It has to be a reflex because it can't be love that has his hips driving into you, over and over and over again.

It can't be love that has him moaning into your mouth, kissing you until you are both out of breath, till you clench around him and he spills inside you, filling you up so perfectly.

Because if it is love and not the memory of loving you that makes it so hard to pull away hours later when your tears have dried, and your heart beats steady as you sleep dreamless on the side of the bed that used to be his—then Jeongguk is making a mistake. It was possibly the biggest mistake of his life.

Jeongguk isn't sure he can live with being the one to break both of your hearts. But he'd rather end it all before your relationship's indifference could turn to something cruel. He'd finish it now before you could hurt each other further.

If he had thought about it more, Jeongguk might have seen the love hidden in his actions. That there was something here worth saving, worth fighting for.

But that wasn't what he wanted. Jeonguk didn't want to think of everything he was giving up walking away from you.

It was much easier to pretend his love for you was gone.

[nyxiswrites1200]

𝑺𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝑺𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝒐𝒎

Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFT, MDNI, OOC(?), Implied Age gap, p in v, fingering, praise, pet names, size kink, nipple play, oral sex, body insecurities, aftercare

Mentions: Reader is a single mom, Reader is implied to be younger than Toji, Pet names (mama, darling, daddy)

AO3 Link

AN: So, this is my first Toji fic mostly because I wasn't a fan of him but fine he's hot 😮‍💨 so please don't shit on me if this is bad.

----

Sometimes it really was too much. You wouldn't trade your kid for anything in the world. You loved your child, they were everything to you. However, ever since your ex-boyfriend left about a year ago, things haven't been easy. 

It was hard to find any time for yourself. Even years after pregnancy, you were still suffering from some mental struggles. Between work and raising the kid on your own, there wasn't much time to take care of yourself. 

Toji had recently moved into the apartment building. Only a few doors down from you. He didn't take much notice of you until you bumped into him one morning, quite literally. 

Toji was heading to the elevator so he could go to the gym on the first floor. Meanwhile, you were heading off to work and dropping your kid off at daycare. 

Your head was overflowing with thoughts. You were thinking about the bills and what to fix for dinner, along with the small amount of sleep you managed. You felt overwhelmed with embarrassment and almost disappointment in yourself when you bumped into the brick wall that is Toji. 

“Oh god, I'm so sorry” you quickly said as Toji met your gaze. 

He took in your appearance. From the color of your eyes to your figure, even noticing the weary look on your face. 

There wasn't much you could say for yourself. That one coincidental meeting turned into ‘good mornings’ when you left for work; they turned into him knowing your kid’s name, and eventually you hired a babysitter to spend your night with Toji. 

“Hey mama” he smirked as he let you into his apartment. It was cleaner than you expected. You didn't really know how to act around Toji sometimes. His presence took up so much space, and just his aura alone was dominating. You didn't know much about Toji, but a part of you didn't want to know too much. You already felt your emotions were out of line with Toji. The simple act of him placing his large hand on your lower back made your skin warm. 

The both of you ended up watching a movie on the couch. Which eventually leads to Toji listening to your rambling.

“I'm just so fucking tired…” you sigh, rubbing a hand over your face. “Between work and my kid, and my bastard ex leaving” you groaned with annoyance. You weren't sure why you were telling him all this, but you needed a vent so badly. 

“Mm, the bastard left you alone with the kid?” Toji rasped; he knew he wasn't a perfect parent. You didn't know that, however. But Toji knew how young your kid was, and he's met enough women to know it wasn't easy for you. Plus, the postpartum depression of any child birth is hard to conquer. 

“Yeah” you sigh in response. “Everything was fine in our relationship; I don't know why he changed like that…”. 

Toji did feel a little insincere when it came to you. He wanted to be honest, but he didn't know if that would do either of you any good. At first, he did just want to sleep with you, but now? He felt infatuated. 

“People change, it’s hell but it happens” he responds. Toji places his hand on your thigh and rubs it gently. “But you didn't deserve that, darling” he comforts. The action sends a familiar feeling to the space in between your thighs. 

A part of you gives into reason and thinks you should leave, but Toji must have noticed. “Let me take care of you. You work so hard, mama. Just let a real man take care of you” he rasps. He needed you, and you wanted him. 

“I don't much remember how to let someone…take care of me” you sigh but Toji doesn't mind. “Let me help you remember” he smirks. 

Toji leans in close, and you respond, giving him the silent answer he needs. He kisses you; he’s firm and a bit rough. But you kind of liked it. 

Kisses turn into making out, tongues tasting one another, and then his hands slip into your panties. Pulling away from the kiss leaves a trail of drool connecting your lips to his. “So wet, mama. Just relax for me, I know how to take care of pretty things” he rasps and you don't bother to question him. 

Toji’s fingers toy with your clit. You moan as your hands grip his broad shoulders. “Fuck- Toji~” you can't help but moan; you were so sensitive ever since having your kid. “Good girl, doing good for me. Nobody’s been paying this pretty pussy any attention?” He chuckles lowly as he finally just takes off your panties. He needs to see it—see how slick you are and how your walls tighten. 

“No” you whine “Nobody pays attention to me, I’m not as good looking since I had a kid” you admit. Well, your ex told you that. Toji doesn't believe it, if anything; knowing this now only makes him want to fuck your pussy full and show you how ‘unattractive’ he thinks you are. 

“Let me show you how fucking sexy you are, babe” 

You writhe beneath Toji on his bed now. He is two fingers deep in your pussy as he adds a third. A pathetic moan leaves your lips as you grind into his hand while he fucks you full of his fingers, down to his knuckles. 

“Ahah- Toji- Oh God~” you moan out loudly, only hoping maybe your neighbors aren't hearing. Especially your babysitter. You swear you didn't hire them just to go fuck some older man, even if it was happening now.

“So pretty, mama. Tightening around my fingers, making such a mess…” he smirks as he watches your pussy clench around him. The messy squelching sounds from how wet you were only made Toji’s cock ache. 

“Toji- I'm gonna cum..fuck~” you moan out, your head tilting back into the pillows. But your pleasure was taken away just as quickly as it started. You let out a pant as you looked at Toji with a pathetic whine. 

“Don't start, I'm not gonna leave you. Just need that pretty pussy sopping around my cock. Want you to squirt all over me, mama so I can lick your cunt clean after.” He smirks, his words almost being enough to send you over the edge. 

Toji frees his cock from his sweatpants, and it's fucking huge. More than you ever took, but fuck if that didn't have your cunt tightening around nothing. He’s painfully hard, with the tip leaking pre-cum. 

“Can you spit on it for me, mama? Wanna get it nice and slick for you” You've never been in something so erotic. You sit up and gather some saliva on your tongue before spitting it out onto Toji’s cock. He doesn't hesitate to smear it all over the tip with his hand and then down his length. 

“That's my good girl, so fucking sweet to me” he rasps as a groan leaves his throat. He needed your pussy clenching around him. Toji tugs at your shirt, but you pull back a little, and he pauses, looking at you, wanting an explanation as to why you didn't allow it. His intense gaze makes you fold. 

“I just…what if you don't like it…” you look away. Toji was such an attractive man. He was muscular, tall, broad, and, overall, just masculine. You were sure he could have anybody he wanted, and he probably has. 

Toji looked at you as if being anything less than a horny bastard for you was impossible. He quickly pulled off your shirt; obviously, he won that battle. 

“If I don't like it?” He groans as he rubs his tip along the slick entrance of your pussy “That's not possible, let me show you how I feel about you”. He then fills up your cunt in one swift motion. A loud moan falls from you as you writhe with pleasure beneath him, your legs hooking around his waist.

Pathetic whimpers leave your throat as you get used to his size. He gives you a minute, but then he's relentless.

Toji grabs your thighs and presses them into you. His cock hits deep, kissing your cervix as he begins to fuck you. His thrusts hit that spot in you every time; his pace was too fast. You could barely pull in a breath between each thrust. You moan out loudly into the small apartment. Your hands coming up to grip onto his broad shoulders. 

“So fucking tight, you're so pretty…” he chuckles breathlessly, watching you writhe on his cock. He leaned down and popped one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking on it. 

It was so fucking erotic. Toji’s black hair draped over his face as he sucked on your breasts, teeth grazing you. His cock fucking the deepest part of you as his muscular arms held your thighs open. His balls slapping into your ass with every desperate thrust. 

You scratch into his back as you moan out for him. He was overwhelming, but you loved every second of it. You've never been fucked this good, and you haven't felt anywhere near this good in a while. 

Toji pulled off your hardened nipple. He pressed a hand onto your stomach, and you tightened around him when you noticed the noticeable bulge he left in you with every thrust. 

“So fucking big, daddy~” you moan as you continue to scratch into him. “Yeah, mama~? This cock fucking you good? Gonna squirt all over daddy’s cock?” 

“Mhm, I'm so close-” you whine. Toji pulls back a little as he wraps one hand around your throat. He presses his forehead against yours as his pace quickens. 

“Look at me, I want to look at your pretty face as I fill this pretty cunt” he groans as he relentlessly rails into you.

The apartment was filled with pathetic moans from both of you, wet squelching sounds, and skin slapping against each other. 

“Toji Toji-” you scream out for him as you squirt onto his cock. Your liquids are soaking his dick and lower stomach. Your pussy tightens around him, dragging more moans from the man on top of you. You feel his cock twitch as the tip presses into your cervix, then he cums. Toji pants as he watches your expression contort with pleasure as he fills your pussy. 

“Good girl, so fucking dirty, mama” he chuckles. He thrusts a few more times, making sure his cum was fucked into you. In truth, he could do this all night. He wanted to keep pounding you. Fucking you full of his cum, fuck you until his cock went limp, but that's not what tonight was about. 

He slowly drags his cock out of you. He groans at the sight of your cum covering every inch of his cock and some of his stomach. He leans in and kisses your cheek before his head finds its way between your thighs. His tongue ran over the slit. 

You whine in response, tangling a hand into his messy hair. Toji licks all over your cunt, sucking up all your cum like it was his only meal for the month. He groaned against your pussy as he fucked his tongue inside of you. 

“Daddy- it's too much, I can't-” you whine as you writhe beneath him, making him hold your thighs open. Toji doesn't care; he was obsessed with you and drunk on your pretty pussy. 

He laps at you until you cum again, squirting all over his face. You shake beneath him with pleasure as you try to catch your breath.

His face covered in your slick, he smirks, running a hand through his hair as he takes you in. The look in his eyes definitely makes you reconsider your ex’s words. 

Toji gives you both a bath. He was also a lot more caring than you expected. Maybe there was more to Toji than you could understand, at least right now. 

He places kisses on your neck as he cleans you up, taking care of you. “Mm, take care of yourself” he rasps as he kisses the back of your neck. “Can't keep fucking you good if you let yourself wither away” he whispers in your ear. 

Toji himself didn't even know why he was so obsessed with you. He thought maybe he just wanted to fuck you. But it was obvious now that he wanted more than just one night with the single mom a few apartments down.

[swimmingismywholelife]

Miracles in December

Summary: You haven't seen your best friend since his injury. And only a Christmas Miracle will bring him back to you.

Warning: ANGST but fluffy ending, platonic best friend!Gavi, mentions of Gavi's injuries, light arguments, insecurity, guilt 

WC: 5K

A/N: 🎶On the third day of Ficmas, my writer gave to me a fic withbest friend!Gavi🎶 If you're new here, I bleed Blaugrana. I've been a Barca fan since I was a kid and that club means everything to me. That being said, Gavi is one of my favorite players and my son and I'm absolutely devastated that he's had such a major injury. I don’t typically write for Gavi (he's a literal baby to me), but I wanted to write something to show my support for him. So this is dedicated to him. Estamos contigo. Mucha fuerza Gavi y te queremos ❤️💙

Link for the Song: Miracles in December

"Oh, I didn't know how thankful your love was, oh

I thought it would stop once it ended, oh

But every day, I'm fixing

Myself to want you

I think my love will endlessly continue."

~~~

You knocked on the door, your duffle bag over one shoulder, trying to shake off the snow.

"Hola, Aurora," you said to the person who opened the door.

"Hola, Y/N, come in! You must be freezing right now!" Aurora answered, gesturing for you to come in quickly. "I'll make you some tea. Sit, make yourself at home!"

You set your stuff in a small space by the doorway, one that commonly had your stuff whenever you came to visit the Paez Gavira household. It wasn't surprising to see you come over as you'd been doing it since you were a kid. You and Pablo had met years ago on your first day at La Masía. You'd just moved from America back to Spain so you could play for the academy. You were an awfully shy kid, especially after your American classmates bullied you for the way you spoke Spanish.

You remembered your first day at La Masía very clearly. You had stood outside the building too afraid to go in. Pablo noticed you on his way in and despite being shy himself, approached you, asking if you were lost.

"Hola, soy Pablo. Are you here to play?" Pablo asked.

"Sí," you said softly. "Soy Y/N. Today is my first day here. I'm just a little scared."

"¿Por qué? You're gonna love it here! This is the best academy in the world!" he said excitedly.

"But what if they don't like me? What if I don't make any friends?" you asked worriedly.

"You don't have to worry about because I'll be your friend! And I'll introduce you to everyone else!"

"Yo no sé," you mumbled to yourself, ready to call your mom to pick you up. "I think I'm just gonna call my mom to pick me up and go home."

"How's this? I'll be your first friend, and because we're friends, we'll walk in together! You belong here, I promise. And so long as I'm your friend, I'll make sure you know that this is where you belong and what you're meant to do! What do you say, Pequeña?"

"Pequeña?! I'm not that small!" you protested, feeling slightly offended that he was coming for your height like that.

"Yes you are but that's okay! See, you have a nickname now from a friend!" Pablo said. "Everything is gonna be okay. You're here for a reason. This is your home and even if you're nervous now, I'll help you see that," he continued, calming your nerves and reassuring you.

Pablo held out his hand for you to take. "Just take my hand and we'll reach our dreams of playing for the first team together."

You hesitated, but took a deep breath. You knew you had to take the chance to achieve the dream of playing for your favorite club. So you took Pablo's hand in yours. You smiled at each other before walking through the doors together, ready to take on the world.

Since that day, the two of you were inseparable. And he was right. The moment you stepped through those doors, everything felt right. Pablo introduced you to his friends, making you feel more at ease with everyone. You eventually made your own friends within the academy. And despite your growth spurt, you still ended up tiny, causing Pablo's unfortunate nickname for you to stick. Even after Pablo started playing with the first team, he always did his best to support you in your games. He was your best friend and you were his.

Which was why you were just as distraught as he was when his injury happened. You were in the crowd proudly wearing his jersey and cried just as hard as he did as he was subbed off, knowing the injury was serious. You cried even more when you found out it was a torn ACL and meniscus, knowing he was out for the rest of the season and the Euros. Pablo more than anything loved to play, and you knew he would be devastated.

On top of that misfortune, Pablo hadn't spoken to you since that day. You'd traveled with him back to Barcelona and to the medics after that game, where you held him as he cried. But after that, he'd gone radio silent. At first, you thought he just needed time and space to process everything going on. But you soon realized that Pablo was still talking to the others after catching up with Fermín and some of the others one day.

"Yeah, I think Pablo just needs space," you said, drinking the coffee you'd ordered. "He isn't really speaking to anyone right now."

"What are you talking about?" Fermín asked, furrowing his eyebrows. "Pablito and I talked yesterday. He's nervous for his upcoming surgery, but I reassured him that everything was gonna be fine."

"Wait, he talked to you?" you asked, now being the one confused.

"Pequeña, he's been regularly talking to all of us because he needs the support," Cristo explained.

"Then why hasn't he talked to me?" you asked again, feeling extremely hurt. "I thought we were best friends. I haven't seen him since he came back to Barcelona. And he hasn't answered any of my calls or texts. I've been to his house every day since and he's never even so much opened his door."

"I'm sorry, Pequeña," Fermín said, trying to smile.

But the damage was already done.

"How is he, Rora?" you asked gently as his sister gently handed you a mug.

"The same," she sighed. "His surgery went well so he's just recovering now. I think Christmas being around the corner is making him even more upset though. You know, holiday cheer and all," Aurora replied, sitting down next to you. "He's still crying every night even if he thinks we can't hear him. He hasn't talked to you then I assume?"

You shook your head. "He hasn't said anything to me since that day. The only way I know how he's doing is by asking you or some of the others. I just wish I could help him you know? It's like I'm here, but he won't even acknowledge that we know each other, much less being best friends."

"You've been here every day since," Aurora said gently. "Even if Pablo can't see it now, I know he's appreciative of that." She grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers together. "And we appreciate that too. My brother is annoyingly stubborn and yet you've been here every day, doing your best to help him and the rest of us. You're doing more than enough, hermanita. He's lucky to have someone like you in his life."

You squeezed Aurora's hand laying your head on her shoulder.

"I would take the injury if it meant he could play too," you said honestly.

"Don't ever say that," Aurora said sternly. "If Pablo were down here, he would've hit you for saying that. You love playing just as much as he does. And you deserve to play too."

"I made the first team, Rora," you whispered. "And they've been strongly suggesting they're gonna sub me in at some point. They're finally gonna let me play. It's everything I've been working towards."

Aurora quickly sat up and hugged you tight. "Y/N! That's amazing! Estoy tan orgullosa de ti! Just in time for Christmas too! This is like the best present ever!"

"Thank you," you groaned out, "but you're squeezing me a little too tight there."

She only squeezed you tighter in response. "My parents are gonna be so excited! And Pablo-" She cut herself off. "Pablo will be proud of you too," she said softly. "I know he will."

"Is he?" you scoffed. "He hasn't spoken to me once since the injury. He's visited the first team, he regularly talks to Fermín and Cristo and all the others. But he won't even look in my direction."

"He'll come around," Aurora answered. "I think he's afraid of how you'll treat him. He's stupid for that but he'll come around eventually I promise."

"You know," you started, "everyone kept saying today that this was the best present I could've gotten. To play for the first team. And don't get me wrong, I'm so excited for this. It's all I've ever wanted since I came to Spain. And in time for Christmas too? It should be make my holidays even more exciting." You sighed, resting your head on Aurora's shoulder. "But honestly, I just want Pablo to come back to me. That's really all I ask for. But at this rate, I think even a Christmas miracle won't bring him back."

You stayed for a little while longer before Aurora kicked you out (mostly because she didn't want you walking home in the dark and the snow was starting to pick up). But before you left, you walked up to Pablo's room and knocked on the door like you'd done every time you came to visit. You knew he was awake and heard you, but there was still no effort to come see or talk to you. You sighed, taking a seat with your back against the door.

"Hola Pablito," you said. "I hope you're doing okay over there. I'm glad your surgery went well. Rora tells me everything's been great. I'm sure you probably know better than I do, but the team is struggling. That's okay though, they're managing as best they can."

You turned around to lean your forehead against the door.

"I, uh, I got called up for the first team for tomorrow's game. The others think there's a good chance Jonatán might put me in too," you continued softly, a smile appearing on your face. "I'm a little late compared to you, but we finally did it, Pablo. We're both finally on the first team, just like we promised when we were kids."

A frown appeared on your face when you didn't hear anything other than the noises of his TV.

"I know we haven't spoken in a while, but I hope you can at least watch the game on TV. Maybe I'll even score on my debut," you chuckled. Still no response from him. "Well, I have to go before your sister starts yelling at me. The snow is getting pretty bad anyway. I'll be back tomorrow after the game and I'll tell you all about it."

You got up, dusting yourself off. You rested your forehead against the door once more.

"I'm proud of you, you know? I know things are difficult for you, but you're gonna come back and be better than ever. I'll see you tomorrow, Pablo. Te quiero."

Pablo stared up at his bed as the sound of your footsteps faded, his stomach in knots as he was full of guilt. He knew you didn't deserve to be ignored, but he was ashamed. He couldn't bare to face you. You were his closest friend from La Masía and he didn't want you to see him in his condition. You wouldn't have judged him, and he knew that, but he still couldn't bring himself to speak to you. His family and his friends had scolded him many times for it, but Pablo didn't have the courage to apologize. And now hearing that you were finally called up to the first team and he still didn't say anything? He felt even worse.

Pablo heard another knock on his door.

"Hermano, it's just me. Y/N left. Can I come in?" his sister asked.

"Sí," he said, not bothering to sit up.

Aurora walked in and sat on his bed.

"She's upset, you know?" she said softly. "That even after making the first team, you still haven't talked to her."

"Yo sé," He responded.

"You know what she said to me?" Pablo remained quiet. "She said, 'Honestly Rora, I just want Pablo back. I would've said no to playing tomorrow if it meant he'd just talk to me.' And she said she would take the injury if that meant you could play again. Do you know how much that hurts to hear? That she'd rather give up her dream than not have you in her life? That's how much you mean to her. That girl has been here every single day since you got injured and you've said nada to her. You've talked to everyone else except Y/N. Why hermano? I just don't understand."

Pablo still said nothing. He took a deep breath, tears in his eyes.

"Yo sé," he answered. "Yo sé and it's killing me. But I don't want her to see me like this. All mangled and depressed. She should be living her dream, not watching me trying to walk every day."

Aurora sighed before raising her hand, slapping Pablo on his forehead.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?!" he yelled, grabbing the spot in pain.

"For being stupid, Stupid! Y/N has been your best friend since you started at La Masía! She's not judging you for getting injured! You couldn't help that and all she's wanted to do is support you because she knows how devastated you are. She's just as devastated for you!" Aurora said. "I know this has been hard for you, but you don't have to do it all alone, hermano. Just let her in and let her help you."

Aurora got up to leave Pablo with his thoughts. Before she closed the door, she peeked her head in and said, "And please at least watch her game. It's the least you can do after how you've treated her. You and I both know that."

You tossed and turned in your bed that night. With the excitement of finally making the first team and your best friend still ignoring you, sleep almost didn't come at all. Thankfully, you were able to get some rest that you knew you needed, especially if you were trying to prove yourself to your coach and the fans that you deserved some playing time.

Your stomach was in knots as you arrived at the stadium. You did your best to seem calm and collected knowing there were cameras filming the entrance to your very first game with Barça Feminí. But you didn't know what to think or what to feel. You just wanted a good game.

"Are you ready?" Lucy asked you, swinging an arm around your shoulders as you entered the dressing room.

"As ready as I'll ever be," you said nervously, twiddling your fingers.

"Aw, it's gonna be okay, Pequeña!" she said.  "You deserve this. It's been a long time coming honestly."

"Do you think I'll end up playing today?" you asked hopefully.

"There's been a lot of buzz about you online since you're close to the men's team. A lot of positivity mostly so I think people are excited to see you. But between you and me, I think you've got a good shot. You're our secret weapon," Lucy winked. "You're our Christmas miracle this year."

She gave your shoulder one final squeeze before parting, allowing the two of you to get dressed.

"What happens if you score a goal?" Aitana asked you as you tied your shoes. "Do you have a plan for it?"

You shrugged your shoulders. "I have an idea. But that's assuming I get on the field at all today, much less score a goal."

"You will. No doubt in my mind. It would be stupid of them not to, Pequeña."

You were flattered by your teammates' faith in you. Despite knowing the stack of players who were both in the starting XI and on the bench, you were honored to have been chosen as an option to play tonight. But while you were still unsure you'd see any playing time, your teammates were fairly confident in you and your abilities.

You dusted yourself off before you checked your phone, giggling when you saw the good luck messages from your friends and family. You sighed in disappointment still not seeing anything from Pablo, but you tried not to let it get to you. You threw your thoughts aside to focus on the game ahead of you, hoping you'd get subbed in at some point.

The game surprised the whole team. It was a lot trickier than any of you expected, your team struggling to convert any chances into goals. The score was tied at 1-1. The other team's defense was tough to break, and it was thanks to yours being just as good that they also weren't able to score as much. On top of that, the snow was starting to fall, making it harder to see and turning the air colder. You were all nervous that the win streak of the team would break today.

You were biting your nails as Alexia's shot was blocked once again, making you and the rest of the bench groan with disappointment. There were only a few minutes left on the clock. The team needed something and they needed something quickly.

"Y/N! Start warming up. I'm putting you in," Jonatán said. "Congratulations, Pequeña."

You looked at your coach before looking behind you. You repeated this several times before pointing at yourself in disbelief.

"Me? You're talking to me?" you squeaked.

"Sí, Pequeña, I'm talking to you. We need to change up the game plan and you're gonna be the magic we need to win this game. So I need you ready to go. Start running, Kid," he said before going back to coaching.

You let out a noise putting your hands over your mouth, still in shock over his decision. Your teammates all smiled brightly at you and cheered lightly, knowing that you were finally fulfilling your childhood dream. You stood to follow your coaches directions, but not before whispering something to Claudia, discreetly handing her a jersey. She nodded, smiling brightly and patting you on the head to send you on your way.

Your mind shifted to focus on what your game would be, but you couldn't help but think about Pablo. You shook off the thoughts, knowing that your friendship with him wasn't your priority right now. All you could do was hope that he was watching your game at home and cared enough to support you.

Your palms were sweating as you waited for Alexia to come off the field, your jersey number flashing on the board. This was the moment you'd been preparing your whole life for. And while you were nervous, you were more than ready for this.

Alexia hugged you and patted you on the head. "Go kill it, Pequeña," she whispered to you.

The moment you stepped onto the field officially replacing your captain, an indescribable feeling came over you. You could hear your team and the crowd cheering for you, all excited to see what you could do. Even though you felt the pressure on your shoulders, it didn't compare to what that atmosphere was like. There weren't any words in any language that could perfectly capture how you felt, but you knew that this was where you belonged. And you knew that you would do anything to feel this emotion for the rest of your life.

Lucy threw the ball in, initiating the start of play once again, snapping you out of your thoughts and putting you back into game mode. The ball was passed around amongst your teammates as you tried to figure out your options. You peaked over your shoulder, noticing a space that you knew you could use to your advantage. But you were also aware you were being marked by a defender, so your run would have to be quick and accurate. You made eye contact with Aitana and locked your eyes with hers subtly telling her that you had a plan. She launched the ball in your direction and you started sprinting as hard as you could, trying to keep the defender off your tail. The ball made contact with your foot as you kept running, dribbling the ball close to you. The other defenders had come quicker than you were expecting, but you knew you just had to keep going. You felt them grab your waist but you shrugged them off, pushing yourself to keep going. You scanned your surroundings not seeing a clear path for any of your teammates, but you did spot one right in front of the goal.

Your world stopped for a moment as your mind went back to your first day at La Masía. Pablo's face appeared in your mind as the words, 'Just take my hand and we'll reach our dreams of playing for the first team together', resounded in your ears. This was your dream and it was right in front of you. And you knew that despite your hesitation, you needed to just take a chance to reach that dream, just as you did all those years ago.

And so you kicked the ball towards the goal. The stadium held its breath as you all watched the ball fly past the defenders and slipping right past the goalkeeper's fingertips. You couldn't hear anything but the sound of the ball hitting the back of the net before deafening screams rang out from everyone around you. Your name and face flashed on the screen with a "GOL" next to your face.

Your eyes widened, realizing that not only was that your first touch of the ball in your very first game for the first team, but that you'd just scored your very first goal. Once you snapped back to your senses, you ran over to the side, kissing the badge on your shirt. You jumped into the air and screamed as you felt your teammates jumping onto you in celebration. You high fived everyone and huddled into a group hug, elated at the way you put the team into the lead, a "2-1" now appearing on the screen.

Knowing you didn't have much time for your own personal celebration, you broke off to the side running towards Claudia, who handed you the jersey you given to her earlier. You presented it to the crowd around you proudly. The camera zoomed in to display the "6 Gavi" on the screens around you. Despite not speaking to him for weeks, you wanted to still show your support for you recovering best friend because without him, you wouldn't even be playing that night. It was thanks to Pablo that you were here living your dreams, and this was your way of thanking him for everything he'd done.

Right before you turned back, you looked at the crowd one last time. And there in the stands was the boy himself sitting in the crowd with his cast on next to your families.

"You came," you said mostly to yourself in disbelief, feeling the tears form in your eyes, snow falling all around you.

Pablo nodded and cheered. Words didn't need to be spoken to know he was proud of you.

You laughed as you returned the smile. You knew things still had to be mended between the two of you, but you knew this was a step in the right direction. You presented the jersey a final time, hitting the badge on your own before tossing it back to Claudia and getting back into the game.

The snow fell around you as the final whistle was blown, your last minute goal being what your team needed to win the game. The bench ran to you and jumped on top, causing all of you to fall to the ground as you screamed in delight. The crowd cheered just as loudly for you, excited for the win and to see what more you could do for the team.

"You did it, Pequeña, you did it!" "You're our Christmas miracle!" "You deserve this!" "We're so proud of you!" were the words spoken by your teammates. This really was a dream come true.

You ended up earning the Player of the Match trophy for your heroics. You raised it to the fans as you walked over to the side for the interview as a means to thank them for the support.

"Wow! Y/N your first game and your first goal for Barça Feminí. How does it feel?" the interviewer asked you.

"Um, I can't really explain the feeling to be honest. Overwhelming but in a really good way," you answered honestly. "I've been dreaming of being in this position since I came to Barcelona when I was a kid, and I don't think it's fully hit me yet that I'm here."

"Well, there's been talks about you in La Masía and how you were going to be the secret weapon the team needed this season. Lots of people were anticipating your debut and I'm sure they're pleased to see what you've added to this team. They're already calling you 'the Christmas Miracle' online. Do you have any comments on that?" another interviewer asked.

"I'm really honored to have that sort of title," you laughed. "My teammates have been nothing but supportive and had complete faith that I would play today. And I couldn't be more grateful for all of them."

"And of course we have to talk about that goal celebration!" the interviewer said. "Culers loved the dedication to the beloved Gavi who is unfortunately injured and out for the season. Was there any particular reason for that?"

You grinned. "Gavi is the whole reason why I'm even here. On my first day at La Masía, I was so nervous I almost turned around and went home and Gavi was the one who convinced me that I belonged and helped me walk in. It's really all thanks to him that I worked up the courage and the passion to play."

"You must've been gutted to see him get injured," the other interviewer commented.

"I was probably just as devastated as he was," you replied. "I hate seeing any player injured, but to watch one of my best friends suffer was even worse. And since I'm here because of him, I wanted to honor him and his love for the sport and for the club. To let him know he might be off the field physically, but his spirit and his heart are still present with us. And to thank him for everything he's done for me."

"Gavi was in the crowd today and I'm sure he appreciated it. Well, congratulations Y/N on your first game and your first goal for the team. We hope to see more from you this season!" the interviewer said.

"Thank you so much!" you answered excitedly, giving each of them a small handshake before heading to the tunnels.

You spotted a figure in crutches waiting on the side for you leaning against the wall for support. You smiled and walked towards him.

"Hey stranger," you said softly, making him jump.

"Hey," Pablo answered, looking at his feet before averting his gaze to look at you.

"I can't deny I'm surprised to see you here, Pablito," you said, nudging him lightly.

"Aurora talked some sense into me. And I realized that wallowing in my own self pity wasn't more important than watching your first call up," he replied.

"What if I didn't end up playing?" you asked.

"First of all, you were always gonna play. There's no way you wouldn't. Honestly, I'm surprised it took this long for them to call you up when it should've happened years ago," Pablo said, shaking his head. "Second of all, it wouldn't have mattered to me anyway. Regardless of your playing time, I wanted to support you and your team just like you've been supporting me all this time. Even when I haven't deserved it."

He glanced at his wrapped leg. "I've been a jerk and a coward and I'm sorry for ignoring you. I just didn't want you to see me in this state because I was ashamed and embarrassed of this injury."

You rolled your eyes and flicked his forehead.

"Ow! What the hell?! You and Aurora have been hanging out too much," he grumbled.

"Yeah, because you're an idiot! I've known you since we were gross and snotty kids!" you exclaimed. "We've been best friends for literal years. If you haven't gotten rid of me yet, then that means I'm sticking around like those boogers you used to stick on the walls."

"You said you would stop bringing that up!" he whined, making you giggle.

"I'm serious though. Don't feel ashamed. Injuries happen and it's not your fault. All you can do now is lean on your loved ones for support and work to get better so you can come back stronger and better than ever," you said.

"But what if I don't?" he asked. "What if this injury ruined everything?"

"You're too stubborn for this to ruin your life," you said bluntly. "Does this sport mean everything to you? Will you give your all for your team once you come back?" Pablo nodded. "Then don't let this get you down. You just have to be patient and let the healing process do its thing. And once you get past that, you're gonna find yourself being the captain of Barcelona leading your team to greatness."

"Thank you," Pablo said seriously. "For everything. Te quiero, Pequeña."

"Te quiero también, Pablito," you said. "Estoy contigo por siempre."

You leaned over to give him a hug, but he stepped back.

"You can hug me later. You stink dude. And I'm cold. So hurry up and change. My parents are already with yours and they're making your favorite in celebration," Pablo whined. You just laughed, making your way into the dressing room.

Your first game had been something straight out of a fairytale. Your first call, first game, first touch, and first goal. It was everything you could've dreamed about when you stepped foot in Barcelona for the first time.

But while all of that was great, you got something even more important that night. And your Christmas miracle was in the form of the boy waiting for you in the tunnel.

Taglist: @thoseboysinblue @chilwellspulisic @neverinadream @notsoattractivearenti @pulisicsgirl @lizzypotter14 @lovelynikol16 @nyctophilic0vitnir @shadowscorch

[eyelessfaces]

out of sight, out of mind

poe dameron x reader

this fic is the prequel to better safe than sorry. therefore it doesn't really matter if you haven't read it because it's a PREquel, but then you know what to read next :)

better safe than sorry masterlist

summary: saying that you're terrified at the idea of losing someone you love again is an understatement. poe dameron happens to be the most reckless person you know.

warnings: reader has trauma and ptsd, mentions of death, angst (I mean, a lot), mentions of injuries, alcohol consumption

tags: f!reader, absolute idiots in love, friends to lovers, poe is in love, reader makes questionable choices but she has trauma okay, poe is so very sweet in this and it has me screaming, fluff, hurt/comfort

word count: 7.1k (personal record for a one shot, wow)

huge thanks to @eatingyouryoung for beta reading and for motivating me, supporting me and most of all bearing with me and the multiple mental breakdowns I had while writing this. love you bestie, thank you, really. <3

masterlist | taglist | ao3

There are moments where it’s only those memories, only those flashbacks clouding your mind and filling up the space for any other thoughts in your head. It eats everything else and doesn’t leave room to breathe, it engulfs everything on its way.

It is impressive how just a few minutes can determine the rest of your life, it is impressive how fast it can eat up everything else that matters.

It can play in your head over and over again when it wants to, like somebody’s favorite holo movie, rewatched when you should be asleep after a long and tiring day, and sometimes you get flashes of it during the day, even if you’re busy and should not be thinking about something other than what you’re currently doing, as if the images were screaming at you that hey, they existed.

You knew all too well that they existed, and for some obscure reason, you didn’t want to forget them. 

You should want them to fade away, to disappear completely, to vanish into oblivion until nothing is left of that day, but something inside of you sticks there, holds onto those few minutes and doesn’t want to let go. 

You don’t want the images to shatter into pieces, you don’t want it to be pooling at your feet like something you know you’re never going to be able to put back together. You don’t want to let go of it, you don’t want to let go of your last memory of her.

These moments aren’t present really often, at least not as much as before, but when they are they’re omnipresent and always remind you of how afraid you are at even just the thought of losing someone again.

Right now is one of those moments, the images play in the back of your mind again, it has become a regular occurrence for them to manifest themselves at the least convenient moments. Maybe Jess was right, maybe you should go see a professional so they could help you manage the manifestation of those memories.

The only thing faintly keeping you connected to reality is Poe’s voice mixing with the scene inside your head as you watch him speak, and even though it’s muffled and his words are barely distinguishable, it’s your only anchor, and you know that if you focus hard enough, it will bring you right back where you are, in the briefing room where he’s explaining everything concerning how the previous mission went and how things could have gone easier for everyone, tactically speaking. 

You do and it works, and you’re back just in time to catch Poe’s gaze sticking to yours, a small wink directed your way drawing a wide and foolish smile from you before he looks away, leaving a heat creeping up your cheeks. 

You’re barely able to focus for the rest of the meeting because of that simple thing, making it so you haven’t listened to any of it at all. 

He dismisses everyone, chatter filling the room before it emigrates out of it, and you wait for him to be done talking with someone and he joins you.

“Hey” he smiles, walking out the room beside you, his arm wrapping around you, his hand resting on your shoulder. “You okay?” he asks as he tilts his head to take a look at your face.

You hum positively, or you hope it sounds positive, and you look up at him with a small smile to prove your point. “Just tired” you shrug.

His lips pinch in a compassionate smile, and his hand shifts from your shoulder to bury into your hair. 

"Wanna come over tonight?" he asks cocking an eyebrow. "Just you, me, a bottle and my quarters"

"Is it really that obvious that I'm not feeling well?" you ask stopping in your steps with a small sigh, looking up at him.

He snorts, shrugging. "Obvious I don’t know, but I know you better than yourself" he chuckles, his hand shifting to your arm so he can squeeze you against himself. "So is that a yes?"

"It sure is" you smile, and he mirrors it before leaving a kiss at the top of your head.

—

Your eyes are watery from the alcohol, and you can feel the dizziness starting to manifest itself as you can see that your vision is slowly starting to delay like a screen's bad frame rate.  

"So" Poe starts, taking the bottle from your hands. "Do you wanna talk about it?" he asks finally coming to the subject you've been thoroughly avoiding before, taking care of telling him about your day. 

He brings the bottle to his mouth, frowning at the small shrug you offer him in response. He swallows the liquid as he raises his chin at you, handing you back the bottle. “It’s fine if you don’t, but you know that I’m always here if you need someone to lis–”

“It’s her death. The memories of it”

“Oh” his eyes soften, and he shifts closer to you, still sitting crossed legged on his bed.

“They’re less and less frequent, but when they resurface it’s all there is” you pinch your lips, a single nod showing that you’re accepting your fate despite how cruel it is. "And it's still so vivid, I still remember it like it was yesterday. Everyone loses people they love in this war, and it's almost been two years and yet I can't move on" you chuckle before drinking from the bottle, wincing at the strong taste of the drink. “I feel ridiculous”

"No one does" he nods, raising his eyebrows in a reassuring way. "No one moves on" he declares, taking the bottle from you when you hand it over. "You learn to live with it, but you never really move on." He watches as you chew on your bottom lip, looking down at your lap. “And this is not ridiculous at all.” he tilts his head to emphasize, putting the bottle down on his nightstand.

His hand reaches for yours, and you let him hold it. It feels warm, and his touch feels comforting, and you can feel your heart beat faster when he starts running his thumb back and forth on the back of your hand. “My mom died when I was eight, I’m a grown man and I haven’t moved on and I never will. I just had to learn to live with it.” You look up at him with compassion, but you also feel worried at the thought that it’s probably going to be a long, long way before you can recover from this experience and everything else it involves.

“But the fact that you lived and saw it makes it even harder, and you shouldn’t blame yourself for feeling stuck.”

You closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose maybe a bit too hard, as if you were trying to squeeze the images out of you. 

"I watched her die in front of me, she was right before my eyes and I had to leave her there" the words leave your mouth in a hurried and panicked, trembling plea, throat burning with the tight knot that only seems to get bigger inside as your words remind you of the moment in question, just as if you were there again, anxiety starting to loom menacingly over you again.

A soft exhale leaves Poe’s mouth as his expression turns into one of helplessness, and he gently pulls your body to his so you both lay down on the bed as he holds you close to him, your back pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around you. 

"I know baby, I know" he whispers, pressing gentle kisses to your hairline, trying to ease your trembling and labored breaths.

You’re not crying, you can’t, you feel so full yet so empty.

—

The ringing, high pitched sound in your ears doesn’t help your current state of tiredness and the growing migraine slowly but surely beginning to anchor into your head, and you can soon feel a throbbing pain hammering into your skull.

It’s fairly late and everyone on base is back to their quarters and for the most fast asleep, save for the ones like you still focused on work. You should get some sleep, you need it, you crave it, but you refuse to leave the empty room before you're done filling your report, wrapping up the paperwork session you've been at for two hours now.

You almost drop your datapad at the sudden feeling of hands over your shoulders, a shuddery gasp slipping from your mouth. It wakes you up a little, your current fatigue making the effect of surprise even more intense, your heart thrumming into your ribcage and reverberating inside your whole body.

The momentary panic fades away when Poe walks around to the desk in front of yours, revealing that it's only him as your eyes follow him as you're trying to catch your breath, a relieved smile growing upon your face. You haven’t seen him since yesterday, both of you drowning under a crushing pile of work. You feel awful when you remember the state you were in, but you also remember that it’s Poe so he doesn’t mind and above all, he’s not one to judge.

"Sorry sweetheart, didn’t mean to scare you" his lips quirk in a soft smile as both of his hands grasp onto the back of the chair in front of you.

"S'okay, I just didn't expect any visit this late. Why aren't you sleeping?" you ask as you put the datapad down on the desk, looking up at him as you sink back into your chair, crossing your arms. 

“Why aren’t you” he asks as he cocks an eyebrow, almost as if accusing you of the same crime.

You sigh as you raise your eyebrows, taking a hold of the tablet you put down not too long ago. “Well Leia will kick my ass if I don’t fill out all of this, and she kinda scares me when she gets mad, so I’m stuck here until I’m done with paperwork”

“I don’t blame you for that” he snorts. "Need some company?" he asks as he pulls the chair from under the desk.

"I'm almost done but sure" you declare, pointing your hand towards his chair to offer him to stay with you.

He sits down, a slight clinking sound resonating through the empty room when he puts his feet up on the desk. 

You dive back into work, and he would have so many things to tell you about his day but he knows that you're desperate to finish what you're doing so he instead just looks at you, drinking in any movement of yours, even the littlest, admiring the way you look when you're focused, smiling at the way you bite down onto your lip in concentration all while he absent-mindedly fiddles with the ring attached to the chain around his neck.

It doesn’t take too long for you to finish your work and for Poe to escort you back to your quarters, finally getting to tell you about his day while on the way. 

You’re disappointed when you see you’re already there, and if you weren’t so tired you would have invited him inside so you could keep chatting. 

“You still haven’t answered my question” you say as you stop in front of your door, turning on your feet so you could face him, stopping him in the middle of his story about BB-8’s checkup.

“What question?” he frowns, a confused expression taking over his face, lowkey nervous that he forgot about something important.

“Why you’re not asleep.”

“Oh. I was revising details for tomorrow’s last minute mission" he nods as he crosses his arms, leaning his side against the wall.

“Last minute mission?” you repeat, your eyebrows slightly rising in curiosity.

He nods as he pinches his lips. “I’m leaving for a few days. Our contact found something interesting about the First Order, and I have to see this with my own eyes” 

“Be careful” you nod once, the inner corner of your eyebrows angling up in worry, and he can see in your eyes that you’re pleading him. He’s not the most cautious recruit on base, far from that, but he knows what’s good for his cause, even if he sometimes has to pay the price, but you also happen to be more important than his constant desire for recklessness. 

“I will, promised. Goodnight sweetheart.” he smiles softly as he stands in front of you.

“Goodnight Poe.” He turns to his feet, ready to leave, but you grab onto his wrist before he can. He turns to you, eyebrows raised, awaiting anything from you. “Thank you for yesterday. I really needed someone to talk to.” you nod, with a tired but genuine smile.

He smiles back at you, the corner of his eyes crinkling softly.

He leaves a quick kiss at your cheek before leaving, and you wait for him to be out of sight to finally go inside your quarters, and you can’t tell if the sigh leaving your mouth is one of longing or relief.

—

You’re sprinting through the base hallways, and even though it’s really not an uncommon thing to do there, you feel stupid for being in such a rush hoping that he isn’t gone yet. 

Once you arrive in the hangar, catching your breath, it is flooded with orange jumpsuits, making it hard to recognize anyone if they’re not directly facing you, but you just happen to spot the little droid that indicates that Poe’s not far away.

Poe’s eyes light up when you approach and he realizes you’re here to say goodbye, and you shake your head as you walk up to him, almost sprinting once you’re close.

“You do anything risky, I’ll kill you” you threaten as you throw yourself into his arms, the end of your sentence muffled against him.

“Okay. Where's my goodbye kiss?” he asks as he lets his hand rest at the back of your head, and he smirks when he hears your muffled chuckle.

“if you come back without a single scratch,” you start, pulling away from the embrace, looking back at him. “You’ll have a welcome home kiss.” 

His right eyebrow rises in interest, and a sly smirk grows over his face. 

“Now that’s an interesting deal.”

You point a finger to his chest, the tip pressing against it, your head slightly tilting to the side, looking right into his eyes.

“Not.” you push your finger deeper. “A.” deeper again, and—

“–Scratch, yes.” he completes your sentence, taking a hold of your hand, closing it into a fist and pressing it against his chest.

“That’s right. I’ll check” you tease, your other pointer finger pressuring him.

He snorts, “I’d love to show you every single part of my–” his voice quietens as he suddenly looks down at his feet, at the circular droid nudging him. “Yeah buddy” he looks back up at you. “I should get going”

“Alright. Goodbye handsome, be careful” you smile, and he bites down on his lip as he lets go of your hand before starting to walk backwards. 

“You gave me a reason to be, I will be” he shouts from a distance, pointing back at you as he walks away, towards his ship. 

—

The few days he had announced to be the time where he would be gone transformed into a whole week, and though you were busy every night either with work or with friends, you couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing at random moments of the evening. 

Thankfully feedback from coms said that everyone was okay and that the mission was going exactly as planned, so your state of worry was greatly diminished.

You still couldn’t stop thinking about him and you hated yourself for being so attached to Poe Dameron, but at the same time how could you not when he acted the way he did around you.

You were walking around base with friends when you heard word from a passing group of people that Poe’s squadron had gotten back from their mission, and even though it was getting late and you could wait see him the next day or whenever you would run into him next, the curiosity and apprehension to find out whether he had gotten injured or not took over you.

You apologized to your friends for having to leave them, and hurriedly made your way through the base to join the hangar.

Once you arrive there the scene in front of you is pretty much the same as when you joined Poe before he left; a sea of orange figures, ships on the ground, metallic sounds and indistinct chatter filling the room. 

Poe sees you before you see him and rushes towards you, a sly smirk over his face as he sprints across the hangar, and the moment you finally see him is the exact same moment you want to warn him about the ship wing that’s about to– 

It hits his head with a loud thud.

A yelp that quickly transforms into a groan escapes his mouth, both of his hands covering and pushing against the area of impact as he momentarily curls up on himself in place because of the sudden pain. 

Your mouth is gaping in shock before you sprint to join him.

“Fuck are you okay?” you ask hastily, a nervous chuckle leaving your mouth as your hand rests at his back while his eyes are shut tight, his hand grabbing onto your arm.

“Yeah I’m okay, I’m okay” he nods, his other hand still clinging onto his forehead. He sighs a curse word under his breath, shaking his head as he frowns before he snorts.

“I was uninjured before this.” he chuckles as he looks at you, a skeptic smile over his face. “Not a scratch”

“Mh? Well that’s too bad.” you tease, putting your hand over his shoulder. “Come on, medbay.”

“No no that’s fine I’m o–” 

“Nuh uh I don’t wanna hear it, we’re going to medbay” you insist, pulling onto his arm, raising your eyebrows and tilting your head towards the direction of interest.

Poe reluctantly goes to medbay with you, the medics check him up rather quickly, and everything turns out to be okay; you only have to stay there sitting face to face to hold a cold pad to his forehead to prevent a bump from appearing.

“So, how’d the mission go?”

“Great. Couldn’t have been better. Got into some ambushes but we crushed them” he smiles. “And not a scratch, nothing” he nods proudly.

“See, you can make efforts when you’re interested in the promised outcome” you chuckle, shifting in place so you could get a better position to hold the pad over his forehead. 

He winces, “S’cold as fuck”

“That’s the point” you huff out a laugh, and he smacks your thigh playfully in response.

“So” he starts, clearing his throat and shifting in his seat. “Can I get my price?” he asks, a sly smirk growing over his face.

“...I don’t know” you hum, a fake skeptic expression over your face. It’s hard to refrain from smiling when you see his semi-pouty face, “You technically didn’t respect the conditions.”

“What? It shouldn’t count!” he starts bargaining like a child that has been wrongly accused for something their sibling did, and you huff out a small laugh seeing how he reacts to you simply teasing him.

“I mean, you got hurt” you shrug.

“The mission was over”

“I told you to come back uninjured, mission or not, or else what's the point”

“Fair enough, but you didn’t specify beforehand”

“Well, now you know” you say, a small exhale leaving your mouth when you get up from your seat, and Poe doesn’t waste any second to follow you, tossing the cold pad onto the nearest surface.

“Alright, okay, but now I want a second chance at this so it’s fair game” he bargains, following you closely when you exit the medbay.

"Alright, alright" you agree as you turn back to him. "Come on now, you need to rest" you turn to your feet again, towards the hallway extending before you.

He remains standing in place when you start walking again, just looking at you and pondering. It takes him a few seconds before he catches up and joins you again, walking by your side.

The both of you are silent for most of the walk to Poe's quarters; it's pretty uncommon for Poe to remain quiet for more than thirty seconds, and it has you thinking.

"You really want your kiss, huh?" you ask rhetorically, stopping in your steps and turning to him once you're in front of his door.

He pauses, and takes a look at you before answering. "Of course I do" he chuckles, and you nod as your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

Poe barely has time to process you getting substantially closer to him before you grab the collar of his flight suit and put your lips over his, gently pushing him against the wall. 

The quarter of second it takes for him to fully be aware of what's happening leaves him sighing against your mouth, and once he's sure that it’s all real, his hand cradles the back of your head, pulling you even closer. 

His other hand rests at your hip, your own hands leaving his collar and resting at the back of his neck, and low hum vibrating against your mouth when your fingers bury into his short curls there.

You pull away just for a second before he yanks you towards him, kissing you back with even more vigor.

His lips are warm and pressed tight against yours, the heat of his body feeling omnipresent even though you're the one caging him.

You smile at the sight of the starstruck expression left over his face when you pull away, and your heart sinks at the way his warm eyes look at you. 

“I was messing with you, I always keep my promises” you tease with a grin as you start to back away, your hands behind your back, giving him space again.

“Admit it, you didn’t want to be kind to me, you just wanted to do it” he smirks, a teasing tone in his voice before he bites down onto his bottom lip. “You wanted to kiss me”

You smirk back at him, shrugging before turning onto your feet and leaving for good, retracing your steps.

Poe stares at you leaving until you're out of sight, and he can't help but smile to himself when he enters the code to his quarters, still not fully believing what just happened.

You, you should feel overjoyed, but you can’t help but acknowledge that bittersweet feeling starting to get to you as you’re walking back to your quarters and being faced with reality again, your mind starting to overfill with too many thoughts; you’re getting too attached. 

—

You toss and turn in your bed, and all you’re able to do instead of sleeping is hating yourself for kissing Poe, for certainly making him feel like this meant that you were ready to give him what he had been wanting from you for so long.

You do have feelings for him, and that’s where the problem is; you can not love anyone, and certainly not someone as reckless and impulsive as him, not someone you could lose technically so easily. 

You can’t go through this again, you know you wouldn’t be able to carry the weight of his loss.

Maybe it’s selfish, maybe you’re making the biggest mistake of your life – no; you’re sure of that – but you’re also sure that you wouldn't be able to handle enduring this again; the simple thought crushes you.

You toss and turn in your bed, and while Poe is certainly delighted of what happened, you hate that you’re going to have to distance yourself from him because you fucked everything up.

—

It has been a week since you and Poe had kissed, and it seemed like you were thoroughly trying to avoid him ever since, hurrying out of the room after every briefing, taking advantage of the crowd and of the people wanting to talk details with the commander. 

You happened to never eat at the same time as him anymore, and you were nowhere to be found when he looked for you in places he knew you would usually be.

Poe was left confused, and even though he had a lot of work and technically other things to think about, the fact that he couldn’t catch you to talk even just for five minutes was bothering him and leaving him wondering if he had done something wrong, especially with what happened last time.

He had thought this kiss would change things between you, would lead you somewhere and that he would finally get what he had wanted for ages; you.

He knew it was no coincidence that you wouldn't stop ignoring his presence, that you wouldn't maintain eye contact through the briefing room for more than two seconds; that you wouldn’t run into him anymore; he knew he had been just a fool, too stupid to think that this could lead him somewhere, lead the both of you somewhere, that you would feel the same way he felt for you.

—

You took it as a sign that your friends had understood something was wrong when they practically dragged you to go get some drinks, and while you weren’t particularly in the mood to do that, you had to admit that you needed some distraction.

You needed to be busy in order to avoid thinking too much, to avoid getting too deep into your own head, because you knew that if you did you would break.

And the distraction technique actually works; you’re having a good time, chatting and laughing, forgetting about everything else going on besides that, and it feels really good, the illusion feels good.

There comes a time when you start to feel the drinks you’ve downed, the slight drunkenness starting to manifest itself as well as your need to pee.

You're still in a pretty good shape, drinkingly speaking; you're not fully drunk yet, just tipsy – the feeling is still pleasant, and you just have to stop for a second to maintain balance on your feet when you get up from your seat to join the cantina's bathroom.

The room is empty when you go and lock yourself into a stall, and the muffled music gets clearer when a group of people enter the room seconds later, their loud and high pitched laughs almost fully covering the sound of the loud music before it gets muffled again.

“So” one of the girls starts as she recovers from her laugh, “How’d last night end?” she asks, and the question elicits curious gasps from the other girls of the group.

“Yeah, we didn’t see you after you left the room with Commander Dameron” another girl teases, putting emphasis on the rank and last name, and your eyes widen at the sound of that.

Well. Try to forget about something and it’s shoved into your face right back away.

This catches your interest nonetheless, and you make sure to wait a little before you wipe yourself, not wanting to miss a beat of the conversation.

"Well," another girl starts, the girl who you assume is the girl who left the room with Commander Dameron. 

"We were both drunk and it was sloppy but damn is he good at it” she declares proudly, a fit of giggles filling the room.

Oh.

She's talking about something else, right? 

This can't possibly be, right?

Right?

"No way you slept with a commander, Jana. This is like a special success, something to check off a list" one of them chuckles.

"Sure did." Jana replies, and this is cliché and a bit not-feminist but you can just imagine her putting another layer of gloss on her lips.

Fuck.

It's with a half lie about not feeling well that you leave your friends and go home to your quarters, trying to repress the tight knot in your throat when you don’t even bother to change into your sleeping clothes and curl up into your bed.

—

The next briefings after that are awkward and feel delicate, and even though they already were before, you now can not look at Poe without internally wanting to scream and break something.

You hurry out the room faster than before if it’s even possible, and you need to be constantly distracted and busy with something in order not to think about him and all of your current situation with him.

You make your way out of the seemingly way-too-busy room once more, apologizing as you slalom through the crowd of people, an exhale of relief escaping once you get some relatively fresh air in the hallway.

“Hey” your heart jumps when you recognize Poe’s voice as he grabs your arm, and you sigh softly when you’re forced to turn to him. He must have disregarded everyone’s questions to exit the briefing room that quickly. “Why won’t you talk to me? Why do you barely even look at me?” he asks, and his voice slightly cracks at the middle of his sentence. He’s not fully scolding you, he genuinely wants answers.

A soft exhale leaves your mouth, and you can feel and hear your heart starting to beat fast in your ears.

“Did you sleep with Jana?”

The question is dropped like a bomb, and you know it’s going to have the effect of a bomb no matter what happens – it’s going to destroy everything, but at this point there isn’t really anything left to lose, nothing left to save either, it’s all doomed.

You already know the answer, you already know he’s going to respond positively because he’s an honest man and definitely not a liar; it’s something you have always appreciated in him.

“I–” he is speechless, and his mouth is gaping, trying to come up with anything to say though he knows damn well what he has to say if he wants to be honest with you, even if it’s going to ruin everything, until– “Yes.”

You expected it, and yet it still hurts. 

You had secretly hoped that the girl in the cantina bathroom had made that lie up to impress her friends, and you deep down knew she hadn’t, but you somehow buried yourself deep into denial, thinking that hoping otherwise would somehow manifest the truth to be different.

“I can’t wait for you forever. I don’t want to.” 

Immediately and like a reflex your eyes close, your lips pinch and you nod, trying to ignore the sick feeling bubbling inside your chest though it’s impossible. 

It hurts, everything hurts, nothing will ever be the same with him and it’s entirely your fault, you brought it upon yourself.

He’s not yours after all, and you made sure of that, so you shouldn’t be upset, you shouldn’t feel your heart sink. It’s not legitimate.

“You know that’s not what I meant” he starts again, the inner corner of his eyebrows angling up in compassion when he sees your reaction. “I could wait for you forever.” he nods, a bittersweet smile over his face. “But you’re making me feel like a fool. I don’t want to feel like a fool forever” he nods one last time as his lips pinch to repress something, and you can see his eyes glistening a bit, and your heart aches at the sight.

You bite down on your lip trying to contain your frustration, or your growing state of misery; you’re not sure, and all you’re able to reply is just–

“Okay.”

It’s bland, cold and dry, but it’s truly all that can come out.

You don’t have the heart to bargain and beg for your cause, and it would feel unfair and dishonest for him anyways.

“I’m sorry” Poe immediately says, and you feel bad that he is the one to be sorry, that he feels like he is the bad guy in that whole story when all of this is entirely your fault.

“No, no, I am. I get it” you try to reassure him, forcing a small smile out of you, still trying to make it seem like you’re doing fine, though you know there’s no use trying to when he knows you so well. 

You can’t stay here any longer or you will break, and you don’t have anything left to say anyways, not when you know it probably has to end that way.

You leave as fast as you left the briefing room earlier, and Poe feels sick when he watches you go, feels the need to puke when his head somehow fills with every memory you’ve ever made with him.

You’re glad your back is facing him when you have to frantically wipe away the single tear rolling down your cheek.

—

It feels strange not having Poe in your life anymore, at least not properly; and it's probably worse that way, the fact that he's still around and that you're still often being confronted to each other, forced to pretend not to care about each other.

It hurts that he's now back to being "just" a commander to you, a colleague, that you're both back to being basically strangers, that the eye contacts don't linger anymore and just leave a bitter feeling lodged inside your chest when they used to leave butterflies in your stomach.

Your heart aches every time you catch a glimpse of him, and it’s hard trying to stay focused when you work around him, go on missions with him. 

You feel terrible for what you’ve done to him, you feel sick that he feels like he's been played with when all you wanted to do was protect yourself, you feel bad that he has to be collateral damage. 

You truly hope he doesn’t hate you, and you think that this might be your biggest fear.

That the only man that has ever truly believed in you, that the man that you love could hate you, even if he has all the reasons in the world to and you wouldn’t blame him if he did. 

Now is not the time to think about it, because you've been assigned and sent on a mission with him, and you're kinda thankful it's not the kind of mission that only requires two people and you just happen to be paired with him – you're thankful people are with you for this one.

It should be an easy mission, you just have to get something back.

A smuggler had stolen something that was supposed to get sent to the Resistance, but the guy happened to be tougher and more skilled than expected, and the logical solution to get back up on this was to get the Resistance itself.

You’re making your way through a quiet alley bathed in darkness, following the target from a distance, observing each of his movements to calculate how you could get an opening so you could get to him and steal – no, get back what’s yours.

Your group has split up, everyone trying to join the guy from different points and accesses across the area. 

If all goes well you can surround him in case you don’t have the opportunity to attack before, and technically he shouldn’t be able to get away, at least not until you have taken back what he has stolen.

You're doing pretty good so far, the guy hasn’t noticed he is being followed, so you have been able to gradually get closer and you're so close to being able to attack and if you could just shoot him in the leg and get back what's yours–

You're suddenly and abruptly yanked out from the main alley, and even before you can react at what’s happening and scream in surprise and fear, a hand pushes over and blocks your mouth, the other hand wrapping tight around your waist, your back pressed flush against your assailant's chest as their own back rests against the wall of the small, secluded alley you’ve been pulled in.

Your eyes look around in fear, your head unable to move, blocked by the strong hand covering your mouth; you want to scream, trying to wriggle out of whoever's grasp you're trapped in, panic starting to creep up your chest, until–

"Calm down, don't panic, it's only me." the soft and gentle whisper of Poe's voice in your ear makes you relax in his grasp, waves of relief washing over you. "He knows that we're following him, he was waiting for you to get closer to trap you" he explains, and you start to loosen up when his hand leaves your mouth and he lets go of you. “Sorry I scared you”

“Thank you” you nod as you face him, your hands resting over your knees as you catch your breath from the sudden rush of fear and adrenaline.

Your eyes widen and you look back at Poe when you hear a fight starting not so far away from where you are, shouts and sounds of blasters firing.

“I’ll go” he declares, hastily taking off his jacket. “Stay there and keep this for me, will you? You were shivering while I was holding you” he smirks teasingly, throwing you his leather jacket.

You chuckle as you catch and look down at the piece of cloth, and he waits for you to put it on to shoot you a smile before leaving, not even giving you time to beg him to be careful and not do anything stupid.

At least you’re now certain that he most definitely does not hate you.

—

Poe is sitting in the grass on a hill not so far away from base, looking up at the starry sky, just enjoying the fresh air of D'Qar. It feels nice after the particularly busy and tiring day he just had, his muscles still sore and tense from the mission, especially the muscles joining his neck and shoulders. 

“Hey” the sudden sound of your voice tears him out of his thoughts, and he even thinks he hallucinated it before he turns to you.

“Hey” he pinches a smile as he looks up at you.

“I wanted to give you your jacket back” you say as you look down at the jacket you’re currently wearing, and you must admit that you’re a bit reluctant at the idea of having to give it back – it smells just like him, a mix of his natural comforting scent and his aftershave, and it feels like the closest you’ve ever been to him in your life.

“Oh. No need to, you can keep it, you look good in it” he smiles wide, and you scoff softly.

"Alright. Can I?” you ask, referring to sitting down next to him.

“Hm? Sure” he nods, patting on the grass. You sit down next to him and watch him as he looks in front of him, admiring the view extending before him. The sky is pretty, the stars are especially bright tonight.

"Thank you again for earlier. And… I'm sorry for even earlier" you say, and his gaze drops down to his lap. "I'm sorry I was being an asshole and I made you feel like an idiot just because I don't know how to deal with my emotions." He looks back up in front of him, and you're scared when he doesn’t say anything and just stares ahead, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. "Can you forgive me?"

His face turns to you, and he nods, a pinched, awkward smile over his face. "Of course. Of course I can"

You can't help a relieved smile from forming over your face, and you look at the stars for a moment before looking back at him. He looks almost heavenly, bathed in the stars' light.

“You know I love you, right? Poe, please tell me you do.” you ask, almost beg, still scared that he could believe the opposite. 

"I do. I know it" he nods softly, looking at you. He pauses before continuing, as if he was thinking of the right words to say. "But I don't want you to feel forced to be with me if you're not ready yet" he continues, and his hand rests over your thigh as he looks at you sternly, wanting to show you that he means it.

Your heart sinks at how considerate he is, even after how you've been treating him, but you're not even surprised; he's the kindest, most gentle man you've ever met, you have always known this.

"I can wait for you, and I will, I'm not going anywhere." he looks down at your thigh when your hand covers his, and he looks back up at you. "I mean it."

It shouldn't have the effect it has, because you've never wanted him as much as you do now, but you have been wanting him for long anyways so it doesn't really change anything. 

“I’m terrified of losing you.” you mutter under your breath, saying this as if you were justifying yourself though you know you don’t have to.

“And why would you lose me?” he asks, almost sure it's a rhetorical question, his hand moving so it could grab yours. His fingers intertwine with yours and the gesture makes a chill run down your spine, you're sure it's not the fresh breeze of the night.

“You’re the most impulsive and reckless person I’ve ever met, Poe. That might simultaneously be your biggest blessing and flaw” you smile softly.

He scoffs. “But I’m also the best pilot in the Resistance, so…” he tries to reassure you with a fake sly smirk, for once, holding tighter onto your hand. “Trust me, will you? I know it’s hard for you, I know what you’ve gone through and I know what you're scared of but I promise you that we’ll be okay.” he nods, and you happen to believe him, he is able to do that.

"You don't have to wait for me, then" you declare, your head resting over his shoulder. He smiles as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, leaving a kiss at the top of your head before his rests over yours.

You will love him anyways, you will be terrified anyways, and if you have to live with the fear that everything could stop suddenly, you would rather do it by his side.

—

if this flops and if I get no feedback on this I will scream, cry, break something and consider retiring from writing so if you've read all of this please give me feedback or a comment or a reblog I'm literally begging you on my knees........

better safe than sorry masterlist

masterlist | taglist | ao3

star wars masterlist: @apollo-enthusiast @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious

[mybelovedwoo]

in which you drank more than you could handle

wooyoung x f!reader

fluff, angst, established relationship / wc: 2k

warnings: drinking irresponsibly, unconsciousness, mention of throwing up, passing out, injuries, blood, mention of food

note: this is where my last headcanon came from. if you haven't read it yet you can find it here:) if you want to be tagged in any of my fics you can enter here <3

wooyoung mastelist - main masterlist

You are somewhere between dreamland and reality when you feel the strong sunshine burning your eyelids. Usually, you have very intense dreams, but today you woke up not remembering any of them, you feel like you just had the best sleep in a very long time. You turn over to the other side so you can finally open your eyes without getting blind.

When you open both eyes, you feel as if your head is about to split open. You wonder what is this terrible headache, maybe you are getting sick? You start thinking back to what you did yesterday, that made you feel this way, but you don't remember much after you went out for dinner with your friends.

You try to sit up, but to do that, you have to support yourself up because your head is pulling you back to bed. You slip into your warm slippers and head toward the kitchen. Your bag and shoes from last night are on the floor in the living room. And you finally reach your destination in the kitchen, you see the huge mess there, you swear to god you left everything clean when you left yesterday. When did you even have time or ability to cook?

You just need a coffee and you will be fine, you think. But before that, you make your way to the bathroom, because you don't know how much water you drank yesterday, but you really need to pee ever since you woke up. When you enter the bathroom, you are greeted by a very interesting sight. The sink is full of bloody tissues. You got really scared. Are you injured by any chance somewhere? You look over every part of your body, but nowhere do you see anything unusual, except for some purple bruises.

You are deep in your thoughts when you leave the room, and just then the front door opens and your boyfriend enters your apartment, in his hands there is a bag full of things.

"Oh, are you up already?" He is surprised. He walks over to the kitchen counter and puts everything down from his hands. Then he walks up to you. "How are you feeling?" He asks.

The frames of last night suddenly play through your mind.

You run to the door when you hear someone ringing your doorbell nonstop. You already know who it is, who is so impatient, that can't wait even a minute for you to get there in a normal space.

"Omg, Wooyoung I gave you a key for a reason. You can use it whenever you like, you know that right?" You open the door for him, with hands on your hips.

"But I can't possibly know what you're doing in there, what if I interrupt something?" You can see a mischievous look on his face. "You just like it if I open the door for you, aren't you?" You already know him well enough to know he has other intentions.

"I like it when you greet me with a kiss, what's wrong with that?" He said it with a pouty voice. He is seriously so cute, you think. "So where is my kiss then?" You made a quick peck on his lips and pulled him inside. "What is this big rush, that I can't even get a proper kiss from my girlfriend?"

"The others are already there Babe. I hate to be late you know that." You said as you were putting on your shoes and your jacket. When you're finally ready to go you pull Wooyoung out of your apartment by his hands and literally rushed to the restaurant.

As you said before everyone else was there already, they had a really big table for themself. Yunho was the first one who noticed that you have arrived. "Oh, the real party finally came!" He shouted, and everybody turned towards you.

"You couldn't wait for me to arrive, aren't you?" Wooyoung felt flustered by his mates' comments, suddenly he became all smiley. "Not you, you dumbass. Y/N! She is more fun than anybody here." Hongjoong confessed while Wooyoung seemed really disappointed, so you grabbed his hands and squeezed them to cheer him up.

"Come Y/n, you're already behind us, you have to have at least one drink with each one of us." Jongho speaks from behind, everybody seems tipsy already. 

"Can I at least order my food first?" You joked with them, sitting down at the end of the table with your boyfriend. 

After a couple of hours, you really did drink with all eight of your friends and even beyond that. Of all the people, it was Mingi who was almost at the same level as you. He grabbed the bottle and poured another round for the two of you, but your boyfriend took the glass away from you before you could drink it. "I think she had enough for today." And he drank that shot himself. It was known that Wooyoung handled alcohol very well, but he didn't drink that much tonight on purpose. When he drinks with you, he never dares to relax, not because he feels tense or something, but because he wants to be himself around you all the time and take care of you if something goes wrong.

"Come on man! Don't be such a party killer. Y/n is a big girl, she can decide for herself, right?" Mingi didn't have any bad intentions, but little did he know, you definitely had enough to drink, because you heard everything, but weren't able to answer. It's like someone is blocking your brain and the ability to speak up.

Wooyoung put your arms around his neck, so it would be easier for you to get up, he didn't dare to let go of you. "Hey Sweetheart, can you get up on your own?" He whispered to your ears, he didn't want anybody else to hear, because he knew you would get embarrassed. You looked up at him and said "Of course I can, but I like it better in your arms Handsome" with the biggest smile on your face.

Your boyfriend is so glad that you are drunk now and can't make fun of how flustered he got by your sudden flirting, but he couldn't deal with that right now. He had one thing on his mind and that is he needs to get you home safe.

While he was calling for a taxi, you were clinging to his waist the whole time, to stay balanced. The ride home was a whole other journey, that Wooyoung thought was the most stressful experience of his life so far. The battle of you throwing up or not, with a fully open window and the slowest drive ever, he couldn't believe when he got out of the car in front of your apartment complex that he survived.

When you got into your apartment, you said that you felt completely fine now, and he could go home if he wanted to. He knew from this sentence that you weren't fine at all because you would never refuse a sleepover with him, he knew how much you loved when he cuddled you to sleep.

"Baby, what about you taking a really good shower then I put you to bed, hm?" He was so desperate to complete this mission.

"But I'm really hungry...I think I'll cook something." You opened the fridge and started to get some stuff out that didn't really make sense, like a couple of eggs, ketchup, and orange juice. It is a known fact that you cannot cook, but somehow you felt the sudden urge to learn it in the middle of the night. Wooyoung walked up to you and took the knife away from your hand, he knew it is already dangerous in your hand in general, not speaking when you were drunk, the sight terrified him. "What if I cook you something until you have your shower?" He couldn't believe he had to cook you dinner, after having dinner at the restaurant.

"So you're not gonna join me, huh?" He was surprised by your boldness, he really liked it when you acted like this on any other occasion. But he knew he can't do that, not when you are in a state like this. "Not today." But he gave a small peck on your lips.

-

Wooyoung was almost done with his Haejangguk when he heard a loud thud coming from the bathroom. At first, he didn't know what it could be, but knowing you, how clumsy you are, he knew something was wrong. He immediately ran up to the door and knocked on it. "Hey, is everything okay there?" He did want to just break the door in you. But when he didn't get an answer he had no other choice, and when he opened the door his worst nightmare was in front of his eyes, something that only happens in nightmares. You passed out right in the middle of the shower.

He never was this afraid in his life, he opened the shower door, the water was still running. The first thing he checked was if you had any injuries, you might have hit your head badly, so he was ready to rush into the hospital. But gladly he didn't find any injuries on your body. He pulled you out of that cold shower cabin and close the water. He accidentally cut himself on the big chaos with his razor on the sink when he was looking for your towel, at the moment he was the least concerned about that. He took a handful of tissues and wiped the blood off his wound.

"You joined after all?" He felt like he could breathe again when he heard your voice. He hugged you tightly to himself. 

He wrapped you up in a towel, and swooped you up in his arms then brought you to your bed. He found the perfect pajamas for you, it was your comfiest one, and he helped you put it on. Then when he pulled your blanket all the way up to your neck he couldn't help himself but admire your face for a little while. "Please don't scare me like this ever again." He stroked a piece of hair out of your face, but you were already dozing off.

-

Oh fuck, last night was an actual nightmare. You took Wooyoung's hand in yours to take a closer look. And there it is, that cut from last night. "How is your hand?" You ask very concerned. You feel very guilty, it's partly your fault.

"Do you remember what happened?" You wish you would not remember anything, maybe then it would be easier to face the people from yesterday. This whole situation is just so embarrassing, you knew you were not a heavy- weighted drinker before, but this never happened before.

"Unfortunately." You say quietly, maybe he wouldn't hear it. You must have been such a pain in the ass for poor Wooyoung. And what are the others think of you right now? You would rather bury yourself in the deepest hole if you could. "I'm so sorry." You looked down ashamed.

"Don't worry, it happens to everyone sometimes. The others are in worse conditions, I think you won after all." His words comforted you a little, but there was still a thing that bothered you. 

"You haven't answered me yet. So how is your hand? Does it hurts a lot?" You placed your palms on his chest, while he was looking for the right words to say because he didn't want you to worry too much about him. "It's not that bad I swear. I was just careless." Huhh if he was careless, then what were you? "I'm more worried about your head, to be honest. Do you feel anything unusual?" He strokes your head gently.

"It hurts a lot, but it's nothing more than a simple hangover." He placed a soft kiss on your cheek as you reassured him. 

The rumbling of your stomach ruined this intimate moment. "Are you hungry? I made some Haejangguk last night." Ohh so it was him, mystery solved. Then you didn't miraculously learn how to cook in the middle of the night. What a pity.

-

taglist* @laylasbunbunny @yeow6n (you can message me if you want to be added or removed)

[machiroads]

Fic Writer Interview

Thank u @plusultraetc for the tag wheeeeee

How many works do you have on AO3?

8️⃣

What's your total AO3 word count?

251,850, 150k of which is one fic lmao

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Nine Lives, by an order of magnitude over 2nd place

Naruhata Noir

A Tumultuous Sea, You and Me (the mer-pirates fic)

Being No One, Going Nowhere (the 2 broken arms fic)

waiting on the seasons to change, waiting for the curtain to fall (the fortuneteller fic)

I am surprised to see the 2 broken arms fic in the top 5 tbh!

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I like to get responses to my own comments, so I try to reply to everyone's comments :]

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Uhhhhh PROBABLY 9L since it ends with everyone going off to war haha oopsie

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

Uhhhhhh probably merpirates? It's really gross and sappy. Dive into the ocean and kiss a mermaid in front of your entire crew. The 2 broken arms fic also got a pretty happy ending (Aizawa goes to bed and also maybe jerks it a little)

Do you write crossovers?

Not crossovers per se but I do enjoy a deep in the weeds AU

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I don't think so? The worst I get is people saying "wow almost no typos" which is very tame lmao

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Not yet! Kintsugi (the epilogue to 9L) will have some mild spice but I'm at a point in my life where I just couldn't be jazzed to write folks doing it sloppy style

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so except for that website that's scraped like a ton of fics a few months back

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I had one person request to translate 9L into Ukranian, though I never saw if they ended up doing it. Recently I've also had a couple people leave comments in Spanish so I assume they translated the story into Spanish somehow!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

The unpublished FFXII AU is partially co-written by Robbirdthe8th, but it's been parked for like a year and a half. Also I would be remiss to omit @kyurilin who might as well get bonus credits for the Nutstang

What's your all-time favorite ship?

I have been in fandom spaces for over a decade YOU CAN'T JUST MAKE ME CHOOSE A SINGLE ALL-TIME FAVORITE IT'S IMPOSSIBLE. Perhaps a low-commitment list of OTPs from across the years:

Erasermic (obviously)

Edwin (FMA)

Netteflix (FE3H)

Asanoya (HQ!!)

Kanej (6 of Crows)

Yuchi (FB)

Asucaga (MSGS)

Soukana (FMP)

Maiko (ATLA)

Hanvi (DB)

Nejiten (Naruto)

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Probably any of the Fire Emblem or Fruits Basket fics I started drafting in 2020/2021 before I figured out how to write fic lol

What are your writing strengths?

People tell me I am good at characterization! I think I'm also good at describing a setting, a skill that I exercise often in my technical writing.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Exposition, my nemesis. A necessary evil, but it's like pulling teeth, every time.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Short answer: I just. Don't.

Longer answer: I think there's a time and place for it, and I've seen both well-executed and clunky ways of doing it. I've never seen a need for it yet in anything I've written.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

BNHA was the first fandom I published anything for, though honourable mention goes to Fruits Basket and FE3H for convincing me that I can tell my own stories (and then get stuck trying to figure out how to write fiction woops).

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

Idk man I'm just vibing in my lane of erasermic et al right now

What's your favorite fic you've written?

Listen it's gotta be 9L. This fic is the reason I have made so many friends in this community. People have drawn fanart for it (one of which now lives permanently on my desk in the form of a mousepad, thank u Dragon). It is the story that got me into writing fic because it was a story that nobody else was telling, so I wrote the story that I wanted to read.

People still get to the endnotes on 9L and are like THIS IS YOUR FIRST FIC???? and yeah. I started writing fanfiction at the tender age of 28 and the first thing I decided was worth sharing is still my magnum opus. Anyone can write fic! Find a writer whose style you like, emulate it, and write the story you want to read. It's that simple.

[littledollll]

hiiiii I love your agere fics with Luci so much and I was wondering if maybe you would be up to writing a fic with caregiver Brienne and little reader (preferably gender neutral with they/them pronouns if that's okay)? I haven't been able to find any on here (*ToT)

I was thinking something like a little night time thing with lots of comfort (and no big hurt please)

Maybe something like these but it's really fine if you don't use them I'd be happy either way really

https://www.tumblr.com/cg-pup/720860299458199552/come-here-sweetie-i-know-youve-been?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/corixal/710834902156935168/nighttime-smallness?source=share

I'm sorry this ask is so long I've never requested anything before and I know you don't really write much these days and it's really okay if this idea isn't something you like or feel comfortable with or really just don't have the inspiration for. If possible could I be 🦦 anon if you do maybe write this? Thank you bye bye

Small space

Brienne of Tarth x little!reader

A/n: I’ll be honest this had me a little stumped for some reason. I wasn’t sure how to try and make sense of it in the GOT universe and then kinda realized I don’t rly have to. Also trying to make all the cgs not act/be the same when I write them.

Warnings: tiniest mention of food (fruits), nothing else.

____________________________________

When you first introduced your ‘small space’, as you and Brienne decided to call it, you were afraid she was going to believe it was something odd, or weird. Which now that you think back on it, was a little foolish to think of for Brienne of all people.

You tend to do most your regressing at night, which was luckily the perfect time for Brienne to also be home and take care of you.

After a particularly long and exhausting day, you returned home to find out Brienne had actually arrived before you, which was something that happened rarely if ever.

She seemed to have already settled at home, being changed out of her usual armor and into more comfortable clothes.

Deciding to give her a bit of a surprise, you didn’t say anything as you walked into your home and snuck up behind her.

Brienne all the while knew you were coming up behind her. She noticed you the second you arrived home, after all no good knight would be so easy to sneak up on, but she let you have your fun with it regardless.

As you came up behind her, your arms wrapping around her torso. She feigned surprised, you knew, but loved it all the same. “Got you.”

“Sure you did. Come, let me give you a proper hug.” She spoke quietly, a precious smile on her face as she turned around and pulled you in close.

Immediately you melted into her embrace. Apparently it was more needed than you realized. She looked down to see you burying yourself against her, closing your eyes with a big sigh. And her eyes immediately softened.

Her strong arms wrapped ever so gently around you, keeping you warm and close. “little one.. are you tired? do you think we should get you all ready for bed?”

It was like she could read your mind. Instantly, your head shot up to look at her as you nodded quickly, remaining clingy at her side. Brienne always found it adorable when you acted like this. Of course she wasn’t glad you were feeling tired or drained, but as long as she could help it would be all okay.

She made quick work of getting your sleepy self all ready for bed. Firstly helping you change into more comfortable clothes, lending you some of her own, which fit you like a gown. Something you both loved because it made you feel even smaller.

She sighed, remembering one thing and going out of your view for a moment, “just one second, my darling. I’m missing something.” leaving you to worry and pout over her absence. After she took longer than just two minutes to come back, you stubbornly decided to follow after her. You caught her mid-way as she was already on her way back with a small plate of fruits! Your absolute favorites too.

“You don’t have to have them all, but at least a few. Just so you have something in your tummy before sleep.” She offered gently. Her sweet behavior was always quick to convince you. Plus, how could you miss out on your favorites?

You happily nodded and took the plate, with a cheerful, “Thanks you mama!” Making her smile.

Every passing minute Brienne took notice of your sleepy state. How you’d gently rub your eyes even when she constantly insisted you didn’t because it could hurt your eyes, how you seemed zoned out as you watched her scurrying around to get everything ready for bed just perfect so you could rest with ease.

After a few minutes you were all done and even sleepier than before. Brienne was quick to put the plate away and pick you up, bringing you into bed.

“Tough day, wasn’t it, my princess?” She asks softly as she sits on the bed and pulls you into her arms again.

Nodding, you quickly cuddled yourself up as close to her as you possibly could. Feeling completely safe and protected in her arms.

“It’s alright now… I’ve got you, and I’ll make sure my little one sleeps soundly.” She said as her hands gently brushed through your hair, helping you to sleep. It didn’t take long at all, given how tired you already were.

As she watched over you, half her mind was nagging her, maybe she should’ve asked more about your day, rather than letting you just leave it at the fact it was exhausting. On the other hand, maybe it’s a conversation best left for later, when you’re well rested and feeling older.

But every bit of that worry slips as she looks down at your restful self once again. Brienne smiles softly as she sees you so peacefully drifted off to sleep in her arms. She made the right choice.

[witch-hazels-musings]

hii hazel :) can i get a protection ritual for childe with the angelite, black tourmaline, and feverfew items?

Black Tourmaline (safety, shielding), Angelite (gentleness, healing), Feverfew (sickness, accidents) Childe x gn reader | Protection Ritual warning: the reader is bound (hands behind back), held captive, mentions of injuries (cut on leg) and discomfort, kinda like enemies to lovers, cursing: "shit" long fic

You could hear the footsteps just beyond the door. Their disinterested pace as they passed by. Sometimes you could make out their voices, but rarely could you understand what they said in rushed conversations. All you knew was they were waiting for something, someone; so that meant you were too.

The wall provided little comfort to your aching, bruised body. You shifted but a sharp pain rushed through your arms, stabbed your head, and made you wince.

When was the last time you ate anything? Drank anything?

What were they waiting for?

A flurry of footsteps rushed down the hall, their shadows cutting through the small crack. Leaning forward, you listened to the commotion but nothing came out clear.

You were blinded when the door wrenched open. Squinting, you reeled back and buried your face into your shoulder in the hopes the pressure and darkness would clear your vision.

"Has anyone spoken to them?" someone asked.

"No, Master Tartaglia, as you instructed."

You pried open your eyes but the light from the hall shrouded the figure standing, almost purposefully, in such a way you couldn't make them out. But you didn't need to see them to know how much danger you were in.

All this time they were waiting for a Harbinger.

The man knelt before you and you scooted back to create more space. Though there wasn't much when the room was the size of a closet and his body, the Harbinger Targalia, took up every inch you didn't. His hand moved toward your chin so you jerked your head away.

"Be cautious, Master Tartaglia. They've injured several of us."

"Yeah, unbind my hands and I'll give you a demonstration," you threatened, narrowed eyes like daggers as you searched the dark features of his face. The light coiled around him just enough that you could see he was wearing a mask. Coward.

The Harbinger chuckled, his head dipping forward slightly. "Leave us," he said, and though you couldn't see his eyes, you could feel them. Sense them scanning you. You hated it. The pressure, the intensity. You flinched when he grabbed your thigh and turned it so he could see a nasty, definitely infected, cut on your leg.

His grip was tight. He had absolutely no problem manhandling you.

"They didn't bind my legs you know," you warned.

"And?"

"And, I'll break a rib if you keep touching me."

"When did you get this?" he asked, ignoring your threat as he pressed his finger near the wound. It throbbed and the sudden pain made you gasp. Tartaglia glanced at your face; at least it felt like he did.

"Ask your lackeys. I'm sure they haven't forgotten," you spat, anger in your veins at the memory. They shouldn't have gotten the better of you, but they used cheap tricks and caught you by surprise. And then, for fun, they ruffed you up after incapacitating you. You'll never forget their faces.

The Harbinger let go of your thigh and his hands fell between his bent knees. Even with him crouching, you still had to look up at him when he straightened his back. "You have information for me."

"I don't have shit."

He sighed. "That would be unfortunate for you. My intel says you know the routes through the fog."

"Sorry bout your luck, but your intel lied," you explained and tried to steady your breathing.

"See, now, if they did, I'd have no reason for being here. And, well, neither would you," he said and gestured at your current, bound, state.

"I don't know what to tell you. Mistakes happen." You swallowed and shifted against the wall. Your clothes clung to your back, your wrists ached, fingers felt numb after days of blood restriction. But you weren't about to give in just because of some discomfort. You were better than that.

"Listen, I'm searching for something, something stolen. I believe the thief used your routes and all I want is to know where they lead."

"Sounds like a you problem."

The Harbinger stared at you and you stared back, held your chin up, defiant.

"Alright then." He reached for your upper arm and try as you might, you couldn't pull away in time. He snatched you like a fish in a shallow stream and brought you to your feet. You stumbled, bumped into him, and reeled back unable to break free.

"Let go," you said, pulling against his grip as he yanked you into the hall, practically dragging you behind him as he went. He moved with intention but you couldn't help to notice how he never walked faster than you could keep up.

----

This new room was lavish. Rich purple, auburn, and red tapestries, curtains, and upholstered furniture placed strategically around a massive table. The Harbinger pulled you toward a beautiful cabinet and you watched him grab several items before moving toward the desk where he kicked one of the chairs out of the way so he could lift you on its surface.

Panicked, you tried to jump down and run but he blocked your path by invading the space between your legs and pressing his palm against your collarbone. You leaned to the left but his mask appeared in your line of sight. A threat for you to stay.

You felt hot. Every inch of you buzzed. You pulled at the binding that kept your wrists together.

"I won't hurt you."

"Can't say the same for me," you said, trembling at his proximity. For days you'd grown used to the scent of stale sweat, of old dust and dirt. To be suddenly engulfed in wet rain and thawing frost; it made your head swim.

Tartaglia placed the items he'd gathered on the table and you immediately recognized what he intended. With deft movements, he uncapped a bottle, pressed the top to a clean cloth, and let the liquid soak into the fabric. He didn't warn you when he pressed it against your throbbing leg but he did hesitate, pause, when you winced at the contact.

The pain eased into a dull ache and you watched as he cleaned your wound with surprising care.

"No one can hear us in here," he said as if it were comforting information. it wasn't. You shifted and glanced toward the door.

"I'll fight you."

He chuckled. "I'm sure you would, and any other day I'd welcome the challenge. Try to sit still." Tartaglia dropped the rag next to you and moved to a small tin. He removed his glove and ran his finger across the salve before drawing a slow, light line across the cut on your thigh. You noticed how long his fingers were, how speckled the back of his hand was. It made sense considering the shade of his hair. "Whatever reason you use those routes for, I don't care. My mission is unrelated. Once I have what I need, you can go."

"Then let me go now."

"Hah, see. I can't do that."

"Fine. Then if you have such great intel, why can't you find it yourself?"

"You know, as good as they are, it seems each time they get close to one of these routes, they become lost and confused. Whoever designed them made sure intruders couldn't navigate through on their own."

"Sounds smart."

"Very."

"Then what makes you so certain I can?" you asked and tried not to get distracted by the way this man caressed your skin, the way he smelled, the way his heat radiated toward you.

This was all a ploy. Don't be swayed.

The Harbinger placed the tin on the table and leaned toward you. His hands flush on either side of the desk, his mask inches from your face. You leaned back but could only go so far without falling.

"I know," he said, his voice low, serious.

You swallowed. "I can't help you."

"Can't. Or won't?"

You were caught. Trapped in his net and unable to escape. Yet somewhere you felt reason. Honor. You glanced at the door and hoped he didn't lie about people not being able to hear. "Even if I told you, it wouldn't help," you said, voice low.

"And why is that?" He asked, still inches from you. You wanted to push him back but with your hands still bound, all you could do was avert your gaze.

"Like you said, you'd need a guide. Whoever stole whatever from you wouldn'tve been able to do it on their own. They employed someone with the knowledge and the skill - I'm guessing. I don't really know," you said, peering at him from the corner of your eyes. It was all you could muster.

"Well if it's that simple. Then you can take me," he said as he leaned back and reached toward his face.

"What? No - I told you-"

The Harbinger took off his mask and you forgot how to speak for a moment. You'd never seen a Harbinger so you didn't know what to expect but certainly not this. He looked so ... young. So full of life and color. So ... normal.

He tossed his mask into the chair beside him and stepped closer to you, forcing you to adjust so he didn't touch your inner thighs. "Hey!"

"I know you know the way. If compensation is what you need -"

"I don't - back up!" you shouted and leaned back while he removed all distance you tried to make. His blue eyes looked past you as his arms coiled around your body. You went stiff when his hands found your wrists, bit back a gasp when your chin brushed his shoulder and his hair tickled your cheek.

When your wrists were free, you leaned to the side and pushed against his arms in an attempt to stabilize yourself and also make distance. With him in between your legs, there was no way you could wiggle your way free, but that didn't mean you weren't willing to try.

The Harbinger stepped back suddenly, his heat fading and you blinked at the outstretched hand in front of you. "I'm No. 11 of the Fatui Harbingers, codename Childe, but I also go by Tartaglia."

"Wha - what is happening?"

"Look, I've got nothing against your agenda so I won't get in your way. But we're partners now and based on the beating you gave my men, something tells me we're going to get along splendidly."

You held your hands to your chest and stared at the hand offered to you. How was the man who, moments ago, held an aura so dangerous now standing happily in front of you like some beaming dog who just got his bone?

"I never agreed -"

"Oh, not yet. But you will." He put his hand on his hip and jostled the one stretched out to you. Dipped his head toward it and, for some unknown reason not even the Archons could explain, you took it. "See, not so hard now was it?"

"What is happening ..."

"Let's stick close, shall we? From now until we find what was stolen, you're mine," he said but the light in his eyes faded, and the danger you couldn't find a moment ago slipped back up as he gripped your hand like one might a devil.

Thaumaturgy Anthology (October 11-13, 2024)

This event is based on spells and rituals. Inspiration does not equal understanding; liberties have been taken. All content is owned by Witch Hazels Musings, theft of these images and stories will result in immediate action.

[c-o-t-o]

would you be able to do nsfw 21 mixed with nsfw 8, where denji walks in on m!reader jerking off and realises he wants in on it (kinda like him liking dudes suddenly clicks for him)

The Onsen Incident

Author: c-o-t-o

Character: Denji x male reader

CW: 18+ only, sexual content/smut, character aged up, explicit language, sexual frustration, masterbation.

Misc: ~3.9k words. Requested by anon (Denji walking in on you masterbating, realizing he likes guys). Okay I got REALLY into this fic! I could have kept going, but needed to stop myself at a certain point lol. If you'd like a continuation just let me know!

About: Aki takes you and Denji on an Onsen trip, and you can't help but keep trying to play with yourself while you're there.

*Do not remove info or credit from posts when reblogging or sharing!*

You had been living with the Hayakawas for a while now, once you joined their team. But since Aki’s place wasn't too big, you shared a room with Denji. You two clicked right away and ended up spending more and more time together just hanging out or doing random things.

So it was only natural that, by now, you couldn't help but develop a crush on Denji. Since the two of you were friends, you got to see him for who he really is; The person he can be one on one with someone. The two of you were nearly inseparable.

Now that it's finally warm out, Aki took you and Denji to an onsen as a treat to relax after all the work you've been doing. Power didn't want to go alone (since the men and women have to be separated), so it was a guys’ weekend trip. Once again, you and Denji roomed together while Aki had a room to himself (he wanted his own room because, of course, he brought work to do with him on vacation).

You were so thrilled to finally get away and hang out with Denji. Excited… and so, so nervous.

It's not like you haven't seen Denji naked before, or vice versa, being two guys who share a room together. But it's not like you ever leisurely sat next to him for a prolonged period of time while naked. The idea of a hot spring with both of them is somewhat nerve wracking, but you try hard to just be casual about it all, like it doesn't bother you.

The first night, all three of you head out to the water. Since it's pretty late by now, there's really nobody else outside. It's nice to have the privacy and not have to share a space with strangers.

It was surprisingly not awkward. You think Aki being there helped take your mind off of things, which it did. The three of you got to relax and soak and talk about random nonsense.

By the time you all came back inside and changed, you were all exhausted. Aki had gone straight to sleep, leaving just you and Denji awake now.

“Heh, look! They gave us yukata to wear! Just like in anime. I didn't think that was true." Denji laughed, pleased with the fact that he got to wear a yukata. You watched him take his shorts and t-shirt off to change into the yukata. He had his underwear on, but for some reason, it still flustered you to watch him undress. He finishes changing and notices you kind of staring at him.

“Hey, you okay? Your face is all red." Denji asks, bending over to look in your face, hands on his hips.

“Oh y-yeah I'm fine! I think it's just a little hot in here." You come up with an excuse quickly.

Denji squints at you for a second, thinks, and then nods his head.

“Yeah… it's… kinda hot in here now that you mention it. Feels like summer is coming soon. Hmm…” Denji walks over to the sliding doors and opens them, revealing a small private space with a mini garden and personal onsen.

"Wooaahh! I didn't know we had our own! Let's go in here tomorrow night!" Denji says excitedly as he points his hand outside. “We can keep the doors open for a little breeze tonight."

You're sitting down on your futon, holding the cotton robe in your hands, thinking this might actually be better to wear to stay cool. It was hot, that wasn't exactly a lie. You get up to change, bashfully turning your back to Denji while you do it. He plops down next to you and before you even know it, starts snoring all sprawled out on his futon.

“Jeez, that was fast." You retort out loud to yourself. With Denji's arms and legs out to the sides, the yukata had pulled open a bit. You see his bare chest, the opening stopping right above his chainsaw pull. You stare at it intently, a warm longing beginning to ache in your chest. The fabric falls to the sides of his legs as well, letting the fabric of his boxer briefs peek out from underneath.

You shake your head to rid yourself of the encroaching thoughts, and turn off the lights. You lay down next to Denji, heart racing.

For a while you lay there with your eyes closed, expecting to just fall asleep. But you can't. You turn to look outside. The moon hangs hazily in the clouds, stars scattered about randomly. The gentle breeze rolls in, bringing with it the gentle twinkling of the windchime hanging right outside the door. It's such a beautiful night… yet for some reason it only makes your heart ache more.

You turn your head to look over at Denji. By now he's moved to a normal sleeping position. He's laying on his side facing you, hands under his pillow, hair slightly fallen down over his eyes. You want nothing more than to just lean over and kiss him.

The thought of that, along with staring at his cute sleeping face, is enough to get you going.

“Nooo… not now… not here…” you whimper under your breath, trying to push yourself down. You glance over at Denji again, seeing that he's fast asleep.

Hand still on your underwear, you subconsciously start rubbing your hardened self. You close your eyes and sigh, hoping that maybe doing this might tire you out enough to just fall asleep like it does sometimes.

A few minutes go by, and you've really gotten into it, when suddenly, Denji shifts in his sleep. You push yourself down and freeze, eyes closed. After a minute, after you make sure Denji is still asleep, you continue.

However, this playing with yourself on and off has gone on for far too long. Every time Denji moves or makes a sound, you get nervous and stop. It's no use. You're never gonna be able to get off with him laying there next to you. Eventually the exhaustion overcomes you and you pass out.

The next morning when you wake up, Denji isn't in his bed. You look around for a moment when you suddenly realize your hand is down your underwear. It’s pretty clear that it's there because your blanket has been pushed down slightly. ‘Oh god, please tell me Denji didn't see that when he got up,’ you think to yourself. Having barely slept last night, you don't feel great. All you're looking forward to already is being able to sleep tonight, hopefully.

Just as you get up and straighten yourself out, Denji comes into the room to get you for breakfast. You sit with him and Aki in the main room to eat.

“Didn't wanna wake you earlier, you looked real comfy.” Denji days while shoveling food in his mouth. Aki yells at him to eat normally, Denji being snarky back. All the while you can only think about the fact that Denji had to have seen you if he said you looked comfortable.

You and Denji spend the day hanging out and playing games that the resort has to offer. At one point though, Denji notices how tired you are and offers to relax in the hot spring before bed. Once the night starts winding down, the two of you get ready for the onsen again. But once you get outside, there are actually a lot of guys out there.

“Umm…” Denji looks down, face beet red." Can we… go back to our room? And use the private pool? There's too many people here." Denji has a fistful of his towel in his hand, squeezing it tightly in embarrassment. You didn't think he would get this embarrassed, but you agree to go back. It was kind of crowded, anyway.

You and Denji sit side by side in the private hot spring outside your room. Aki was called away for a work meeting and said he would be back the next day, so it was just you and Denji alone now. You think back to how much Denji was blushing earlier, and… well, actually you're trying not to think about it. Because there's nothing here to hide you if you start getting hard again.

After a few moments of silence, you speak up to tell Denji it was okay for him to not want to be around all those people before. To try and ease his embarrassment. It seems he has a similar idea, because at the same time, Denji speaks out as well, the two of you overlapping.

“I’m sorry… I saw you this morning!” Denji blurts out.

“You don't have to be embarrassed about coming back here," you say at the same time.

You both exchange a “what?"

Your face starts burning and you can feel your peripherals blackening. ‘He saw me, Denji saw me with my hand down my underwear this morning…” is all you can think, before Denji elbows you playfully.

"Ahh don't worry about it. Do you know how many times I've woken up with my hand down my pants?” Denji smirks and laughs. “Sometimes I don't even know when it got there!”

You're relieved to hear Denji not making a big deal out of it, but you notice his cheeks reddening a bit. Maybe from the hot water.

“But, uhh, I wasn't embarrassed earlier.” Denji rubs the back of his neck, and looks around as if trying to find the right words to say. “There were too many old dudes there. I wanted us to just to be alone and thought maybe it would be empty like it was last night.” Denji smiles, leaning back and putting his clasped hands behind his head.

‘Alone? Just us? But why?’ you wonder to yourself. You glance over at Denji and can't help but see his thin, pale body under the water. Even though it was dark, there were still ambient lights outside so that people could still see and use the onsen at night.

You immediately become hard, trying to casually place your hands over your growing excitement. Looking around in a panic, you see the towels you both left before getting in the water. You stand up abruptly and get out of the water, turning quickly to hide yourself from him. You wrap the towel around your waist, pretending to struggle with tying the front so that you can hold it outwards a bit.

“You leavin?" Denji turns around and grips the sides of the onsen with his chin resting on his knuckles like a puppy. Why does he have to be so fucking cute right now? You can barely contain yourself.

“Yeah, I think the hot water was making me dizzy. I'm gonna…” your voice trails off when the idea hits you. "I'm gonna go lay down and get ready for bed. No rush, you can stay out here for a bit if you want.” You stare Denji in the eyes, hoping that he'll buy your lie. You search his eyes for an answer, but he looks away as if thinking about something.

"Hmm… yeah, okay. I'll uh, stay out here for a little longer. You go rest." Denji says, looking away from you to lean his head back in his hands again, closing his eyes. You hope he wasn't annoyed or upset by you leaving, but you just couldn't risk being there with him anymore, being hard as a rock.

With Aki gone and Denji outside for a little longer, you can finally relieve yourself. You don't think it'll even take long, it felt like a ticking time bomb after getting close all night last night and stopping a million times.

You put your yukata on and shut the lights to make it believable that you've gone to sleep. Before your head can even hit the pillow, you've opened the bottom of your yukata and started touching yourself. You didn't even bother putting underwear on, it would only slow you down. However, being so comfortable now and relaxed from the hot water, you're also fighting off sleep.

Your hand around your bare cock feels so good that you start throbbing. All you can think about how Denji is just outside, naked. You think back to how slim and wet his body was. Thinking of how the steam from the onsen made his face glisten and the ends of his wet hair hang down over his eyes. So fucking hot. You wanted nothing more than to just turn to him, hands on his hard, sleek chest, and ravage him.

Getting so turned on by the idea of Denji being right there makes precum start pooling at your tip. You swipe your thumb over it and moan at the bit of slipperiness it gives you. Your thoughts start straying as you go in and out of sleep, wondering what would happen if you playfully pulled on Denji's chainsaw starter a little bit. Would it tease him? Would it feel good to him? The ideas keep coming as you feel like you could finish soon, as long as you can stay awake.

However, you are blissfully unaware of how much time has already passed from nodding off here and there, because you hear the patio door slide open. In a panic you pull the yukata back over yourself, pull the blanket up over you, and close your eyes. ‘DAMN IT.’ you curse in your mind, not wanting a repeat of last night. You wouldn't be able to hold back after how much you just played with yourself. Only seconds after you get yourself in order does the bedroom door slide open abruptly. You slam your eyelids closed, not even sure if your hard on is visible or not under the heavy blanket. You hear Denji's towel fall, followed by him putting his yukata on and turning off the light. He lays down next to you again, falling asleep on his back.

You'll have to make due, you'll have to keep trying to finish because you can't hold back anymore. There's no chance of getting up to go to another room to finish, because if you accidentally wake Denji he'll see how unbelievably stiff you are.

You're still so incredibly hard that it even surprises you. After a few minutes you start pumping your hand up and down your length again, stopping every time Denji moves.

At this point, you feel so pent up and frustrated that you feel like you're going to explode. Your hands fall to your sides and, without thinking, sigh out loud. Almost whimpering in frustration.

It must have been loud enough though, because Denji starts moving around again. You slam your eyes closed out of habit, waiting for him to fall asleep again. But it's almost too quiet. You keep waiting to hear his sleepy breathing or snoring, but it never comes. Suddenly, you hear shuffling, and then warm air on your ear. It startles you so much that you can't help but gasp out loud.

“Let me help you with that." Denji whispers into your ear, warm breath tumbling down onto your neck. You feel his warm hand navigate under your blanket, down your stomach, finally resting over yours.

Your eyes shoot open and realize Denji is leaning on his arm at your side, face still at your ear.

“I know you've been trying to jerk off all night. Last night, too. It usually doesn't take you this long, what's the matter?" Denji’s nose grazes the outside of your ear, giving you chills. Your heart starts palpitating hearing him say he knows how long it usually takes you. Does he always know when you're jerking off? You two do share a room, but you could have sworn he was always asleep. Your thoughts are interrupted when Denji moans into your ear.

“I'm not dumb, man. I know you were hard in the water outside, I saw it before you wrapped yourself up. Why do you think I wanted to come back to our private onsen instead of staying at the big one?" Denji asks quietly while slowly grabbing your hand, making you move up and down. "I was actually gonna play with you in the water, but then you left. I figured you came back here to do this, but… god I couldn't stop thinking about it. You got so hard I wanted to see what it felt like to touch you. Do you know how hard it always is to pretend to be asleep with you laying next to me playing with yourself all the time? At first it was kinda awkward, but… after hearing your heavy breathing and moans all the time… I don't know. It started getting to me. It started… making me feel good, too.”

Your head starts spinning with pleasure. His touch is soft but firm, pumping you slowly… teasingly… deliberately trying to toy with you. You moan in response and you hear him chuckle in your ear.

“Do you do it like this?" He asks, voice sending chills down your body. All you can do is swallow hard and nod. You can't believe this is happening and you can barely even get any words out.

Denji pulls the blanket back, exposing you now. Between the heat from outside and the heat between the two of you, you both start sweating and panting. It's almost intoxicating. It makes everything more sensual and exhilarating.

Denji is kneeling over your legs now. He takes your hand away and swallows hard like he's bracing himself. He grabs you with both his hands and starts pumping. His face is so blushed it makes him look so fucking hot, between that and his face starting to glisten from sweat. His hands are so strong, but he takes such care to not hurt you. Even feeling his hands on you is enough to make your head fall back with pleasure.

You can feel Denji hardening as well, realizing now that he had been kneeling on your leg. You feel him stiffen and you reach down without thinking to grab him. Denji lets out a loud moan, not expecting it.

“Fuck, why does this feel so good…” Denji's voice trails off as his eyes close in ecstasy. He grabs your hand and pulls it off though, asking you to wait a second.

Denji slides up your legs to your hips, pushing his cock against yours, causing you both to moan. You feel Denji grab both of you with his hands forming one big circle so that he can pump you both at the same time.

“Fuck, it does feel good," Denji says with an air of surprise. “I saw some dudes doing this online and wondered what it felt like. And…” he pauses to catch his breath. "I kept thinking how I wanted to try with you. It feels good enough to play with myself but I always wondered if if felt better with another guy rubbing up against me.”

You can't believe this is even happening. You're trying SO hard to not fall asleep from being utterly exhausted. You also realize you're right at the edge now, but don't want to quite finish yet. You wanted to enjoy Denji touching you longer.

"Denji… wait…" you say between panting. Denji slows to a stop and looks up at you worried.

“What's wrong? Is this not okay?" Denji's face is so red. His eyebrows are narrowed with desperation. You feel him start squirming in place in response to stopping.

“I just… I'm so close. I don't want to finish yet.” You admit. You put your arm over your eyes in embarrassment. But you're glad to have just come out and said it. You feel Denji let go and sit straight up. Before you even know what's happening, you feel his hands under your arms lifting you into a seated position, both of your legs entangled together. Sitting so close, your dicks still pressed up against each other. Denji grabs your face and starts kissing you.

You both need to periodically break away to gasp for air, kissing so intensely. Denji tries hard to not bite down on your lips too hard with his sharp teeth.

“Why," he pants, “why does this feel so good?" Denji asks between kisses, forehead resting on yours.

"Do you like it?” You ask Denji, trying to catch your breath. He nods his head and laughs between his heavy panting. You suddenly feel Denji push you down on your back, grabbing both of you and pumping again. You moan out loud in surprise.

“I'm getting close, too. Let's cum together." Denji closes his eyes hard and pants out loud. You see the tips of his sharp teeth as he breathes.

Denji's cock is so hot and hard against yours. His skilled hands moving up and down faster now. You feel him growing harder, more engorged, pressing against you. You look up at Denji who has his eyes squeezed shut. It turns you on to see him trying so hard to bring you both over the edge.

Denji's body starts twitching as he says he's getting close. Now is your chance. You reach up to Denji's chest, fingertips circling the opening where his chainsaw starter comes out. His eyes flash open to look at you, skin reddening on his cheeks even more. You start rubbing around his chest and feel Denji now so close to cumming that he starts thrusting himself against you and in his hand. Feeling him thrust against you turns you on so much that you feel that coil inside you snap.

Just as you're about to say you're cumming, Denji's free hand comes down hard on your chest as he grunts.

“I'm cumming," Denji cries, thrusting so hard in and out of his hand against you.” Hearing him say that, you feel it start shooting out of you, too. You both moan out loud, panting, twitching.

Since you're lying down, the hot fluid from both of you shot all over your chest.

Once Denji catches his breath, he stares down at the white all over you, swallowing hard.

“Denji… Denji you don't have to ea-” you can't even finish your sentence before Denji leans down and presses his tongue to the soft skin on your stomach. Your back arches as he makes his way from splatter to splatter with his hot tongue lapping up every last bit of both of you. He swallows and wipes his mouth with the back of his fist. You forgot that Denji will eat anything that can be eaten. It only worries you for a second before thinking how incredibly hot it was to watch him do that.

Feeling how much you responded to that, Denji finishes by moving up and licking your hardened nipple for a moment before falling down at your side.

You both lay there, chests rising and falling quickly, panting with lust. Denji chuckles softly and looks at you, face still blush.

“I hope that was okay, I uh… never did that before. But I've watched enough videos to figure it out.” He runs his fingers through his drenched hair.

"it was unbelievable. Really, really good.” You manage to get out between catching your breath.

Slowly, little by little, both of your breaths return to normal. You're about to fall asleep when Denji turns to you, thumb grazing across your bottom lip.

"Can we go in the private onsen tomorrow morning before Aki comes back home?” He says with his face turning a deep red again. You nod sleepily, not being able to help being lulled to sleep with relief. Denji smiles and chuckles, almost deviously. “Good. I wanna try playing with you in the water and see how that feels before we leave."

[absurdthirst]

What He Deserves {Dave York x F!Nanny!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 21.5k

Warnings: Divorce, lawyers, cheating, mentions of STDs, flirting, oral sex (male and female receiving), knife play, fingering, vaginal sex, arguing

Comments: Divorcing Carol is nasty once he discovers that she had been cheating on him. His ex decides the entire reason he agrees is because he wants to fuck the nanny. He does, but what he really wants is to be happy. You decide to give him what he deserves.

Co-written with @pedropascalsx

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|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Rolling his eyes, Dave stares at Carol across the sleek and shiny table in the conference room. Flanked by a severe woman in a tight suit that is supposed to be empowering and her rumpled counterpart on the other side in the form of a browbeaten lawyer, he scoffs and shakes his head. "You aren't getting the house for nothing." He tells her. "I haven't cheated and I'm not going to just give you what you want because you are pitching a fit."

“Oh please, David,” Carol says with a roll of her eyes, “I’ve seen the way you look at her. Do you think I’m stupid?”

"Since when is looking at someone cheating?" This question is posed to her lawyers, then he looks back at his own. "Am I right? Never laid a finger on her."

“So you say,” Carol says with a shrug of her shoulders. “I want the house. The girls shouldn’t have to leave their rooms… And they’re attached to her and despite their fathers intentions towards her… she’s a good Nanny, and if we move we won’t be able to afford her.”

"So I should pay for you to live in that house and for the nanny because you think I'm cheating, when I'm not?" He shakes his head, frustrated with how greedy she's being.

“Yes.” Carol says simply with a smirk splashed across her smug face. She should feel guilty seeing as she’s been sleeping with her personal trainer for the past few months but she refuses. She has never seen Dave look at her with as much hunger as he does their blissfully unaware Nanny.

“Funny.” He smirks and shakes his head. “I think you should move out and let me and the girls live there.” He tells his wife. “You can move in with Scott.”

“Excuse me?” Carol chokes. Her face burns with embarrassment as she realizes that he knows. “I’m not going anywhere and I don’t know why you’d mention him anyway. Fine. We can both stay in the house… No point in upsetting the girls yet anyway.”

“Fine.” Dave chuckles. “You can have the in-law suite you insisted we build in the basement.” The apartment had its own entrance and living space, making Dave roll his eyes at the expense when she had insisted it was needed for her ailing parents. They had never moved in or wanted to in the first place. It had been a waste of an exorbitant 401k loan.

“Absolutely not. The girls would be devastated if they saw me going downstairs. I guess we will have to move the Nanny.”

Dave hums, tilting his head as he considers it. “Fine.” He agrees after a moment, not smirking since that was what he wanted to begin with. He had learned that she would fight him if he wanted something, just to be obstinate.

“Fine. But only on one condition will I agree to these terms.” Carol says as smugly as she can.

“What’s that?” Dave figures it’s something stupid, but he waits for her to drop whatever bomb she thinks she had.

“The Nanny is off limits.”

“So you get to fuck your personal trainer and I get to just be the cuck that pays for everything?” Dave’s chuckle is dark as he shakes his head. “Not going to happen.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about and I don’t appreciate the accusations. And who said she’d even want you anyway?” Carol taunts with a raised eyebrow.

“Not an accusation, dear.” Dave hums. “If you want me to provide the evidence that you’ve been porking Scott, we can drag this out.”

Carol snarls before shaking her head, “Let’s just get this done. I want to get home.”

“Well, considering the information that we have, I think we should be able to draft an agreement.” Dave snorts as Carol’s lawyer drones on. This isn’t going the way that the pair had anticipated when they had called this meeting.

“Fine.” Carol shrugs, before reaching into her bag and pulling out her phone. “Just get it done and I’ll sign it.”

“Hot date?” Dave scoffs, raising his brow at his soon-to-be ex-wife.

Seeing an opportunity to attempt to best her parenting skills she smirks and smugly remarks, “No. The only thing on my mind is getting home and making sure our children get fed and put to bed soundly.”

“I’m sure the nanny already has taken care of it.” He shoots back. “She spends more time with them than you do.”

“Well being a working mother means making sacrifices,” she snarls back at him.

“Yes, you’ve sacrificed soooo much for your part time job.” Dave agrees sarcastically. “How many hours are you up to now? Ten a week?”

“Does it matter? We agreed that the girls needed to see me go off to work as well. How much longer is this going to take?” She yells over at her lawyer who’s frantically typing something.

“You will move into the Nanny’s room and I’ll keep the master bedroom.” Dave chuckles. “Better start packing.”

“I want the master bedroom,” she scrambles, “It has the jacuzzi tub and the waterfall shower.”

“Not happening.” Dave growls, shaking his head. “You wanted this.” He reminds her. “Live with it.”

"You're a real bastard, did you know that? Fine." She says as she scribbles her signature on the papers from his lawyers. "You're still paying all the bills."

"Until you decide you want to marry your little boy toy." Dave reminds her. "Or the girls turn 18. Then you'll have to support yourself. But I'm not paying your personal credit cards. All your makeup and shit, and your personal fuck toy, you pay for yourself." 

"Fine. But when I have to increase my hours at work, the nanny will be expecting a pay increase. Will you be willing to pay for that?"

"I'll take care of paying for the nanny." He has no problem with that because he knows you're great with the kids.

"I bet you will." She scoffs before slamming the pen down on the desk. "Hurry up and sign it. I want to get home."

Dave chuckles and takes his sweet time looking over the paperwork with his lawyers just to piss her off. He had been comfortable and willing to overlook her flaws and infidelity but now she's decided to divorce because she can't stand someone else who might hold his interest. Now it's time for him to go scorched earth since she has no idea what he is capable of.

Carol looks over at him with disgust. It wouldn't have come to this if he'd touch her just occasionally or not be so obvious about his attraction to the Nanny.

Eventually, Dave signs his name on the line and looks up at Carol after he sets the pen down. "Only stopped fucking you after you started letting Scott stick his dick in you." He announces. "By the way, he's also fucking a few of the other woman that have hired him. Might want to get tested."

"Bullshit." Carol hisses. "He loves me, he loves me more than you ever did."

"Whatever makes you feel better." He scoffs, standing and looking over at his lawyers. "Are we done here?"

Once the lawyers confirm it's all done, Carol picks up her bag and dashes towards the door. Not looking forward to the awkward drive home with her now soon to be ex-husband. 

"We will file the papers and it should be finalized within the month." Dave nods as he shakes his lawyer's hand. "Thanks. I'm ready to put this behind me. Now I just have to drive home with her." He rolls his eyes and walks slowly after her. Why she had insisted on driving together he doesn't know, but he's sure the drive home will be silent.

Dave purposely waits to unlock the car door until he's standing next to the driver's side which makes Carol scowl harder. She slides into the passenger seat and immediately fiddles with the radio knowing it'll piss him off.

Apparently the petty games have begun, not like he hasn't noticed the passive aggressive little acts ramp up in the past few months before she had dropped her little bomb on him. "Is this how you really want to play this, Carol?"

"She might not want to fuck you, you know?" Carol immediately fires back at him, ignoring the question. "She's young and pretty."

"And?" Dave snorts, shrugging his shoulders. "Unlike you, I can handle someone not wanting to fuck me."

"Oh please." Carol scoffs. "Why are we doing this? We can call it all off... Forget this ever happened, you just need to pay me a little attention, David. We can find someone else to Nanny the girls and once she's gone you won't be so.... distracted."

"I'm good." He tells his wife mildly. "You can continue your very strenuous workouts with Scott. I know how you enjoy them.”

"Fuck you." She hisses. "Just remember that I know what you like, baby." She says as she starts to rub his thigh.

"You know shit about what I like." He growls, picking up her hand off his thigh and dropping it back in her own lap. "I like faithfulness. I didn't cheat, you did." 

"Oh really? All those business trips away? You never fucked some girl you met in a hotel bar? Bullshit." She snarls before turning up the radio and signalling the end of the conversation.

He hadn't been, but it's not like he could really tell her what he was doing. She didn't know he was an assassin and he wasn't telling her now. Instead of commenting, he concentrates on driving home. 

The rest of the journey is spent in total silence. She knows deep down he never cheated on her, and it wasn't until the Nanny moved in that his eye began to wonder. Before getting out of the car Carol sighs and turns to face Dave, "We can't make her move rooms tonight. So we will have to sleep in our bed together for at least one more night." 

"Fine." He will most likely end up on the sofa, like he has been for the last month. It kills his back, but it's better than listening to her nag or trying to seduce him.

She smirks as she climbs out the car, knowing that she's going to sneak upstairs and pull on her newest lingerie... A set she had bought for Scott. But Dave doesn't have to know that. Tonight she'll seduce him and this will soon be forgotten about.

He sighs as he climbs out of the car. He's honestly disappointed that the marriage has failed but he can't take the blame completely. Once she had broken his trust, Dave was done. He hadn't confronted her, hadn't killed the bastard, but he had just....stopped engaging. Coming home for his daughters, the nanny had caught his attention with your sweet attention to detail and how you wanted to make the house a home.

****

You almost run straight into Dave as he enters the kitchen.

The girls snuggled up on the sofa watching Encanto for the millionth time as you went to fill up the popcorn bucket. "Oops, sorry Mr. York" you say with a smile, noticing how down he looks. "The girls are watching a movie before bed, if you want to join?"

"Hey." He reaches out and steadies you, his lips curling up for the first time since he had left the house, charmed by your innocent smile. You nor the girls knew that he and Carol are divorcing. He's planning on sitting them down and telling them tomorrow. "That sounds good. They wanted more popcorn?" He asks, knowing that the girls inhale popcorn like it's vital to live.

"Yeah, they started inhaling it before I'd pressed play," you say with a giggle, "Don't get too excited though... We're watching Encanto again. And Molly is assigning us all songs... I uh- I got given 'What Else Can I Do?' because apparently I'm the most 'princess-like' in this house."

"Oh god." His huff and rolling of the eyes is all for show. He puts up with whatever the girls like, even if he doesn't understand it. "As long as they don't want me to sing. Last time the neighbor's dog started howling."

"Oh, if I have to sing, so do you. ‘We Don't Talk About Bruno’ is still unassigned.. but something tells me not for long. Will Mrs. York be joining us?" You ask as you hand him a beer.

"No." He shakes his head, sure that despite her little performance at the lawyer's office, Carol wouldn't be putting the girls to bed. "I think she went upstairs."

"Okay," you say with a relieved smile. She had become more and more snappy with you the past few weeks and you're unsure why. "The girls are cuddling each other and if you try to get in the middle of that, you may lose a hand. Alice wants Molly to cuddle."

"Nope." Dave shakes his head and snorts. "I've taken too many knees to the groin when I've tried." He jokes, popping another bag of popcorn into the microwave before he takes a drink of his beer.

"The girls will be glad you're joining us. I spend 98% of my day listening to stories about their Superdad." You remark with a smile before grabbing two more juice boxes for the girls and a Dr Pepper for yourself. "They really love their Daddy."

He knows that he will need to spend more time with the girls. News of the divorce will upset them and he wants to make sure they know he will be there. "It's only because I'm out of town so often." He jokes. "They pretend to love me to get presents when I come back."

"No," you gleam at him, "They worship the ground you walk on. You're an incredible dad, Mr. York. We better join them before we miss any solos."

"You go on." He encourages you. "I'll bring the popcorn when it's done."

"No, I can do it. They'll want a few minutes alone with you," you say as you shake your head, "Unlike you, I can't say this is the first time I've seen this movie today.

He chuckles and nods. "Okay. Thanks." He loves how good you are with the girls, patting you on the back as he walks by and letting his hand slide off gently as he moves away from you. 

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you attempt to keep your composure. The feeling of his hands on you is nothing sort of electrifying, and you push away the feeling of guilt that sweeps through you. Once he's out of the room, you tug on your sundress to reveal a little more of your cleavage and push your tits together a little more... whilst he was completely out of bounds, you can still fantasize about him. The microwave dings and brings you out of your dirty daydream and you hurry back into the living room, arms laden with goodies for the girls.

Out in the den, the girls have made room for him on the couch and transferred their cuddling to leaning against him together. "So why don't they talk about Bruno?" He asks, even though he's seen the movie.

The sound of them yelling excitedly at their dad makes you smile as you place the treats in front of them. "He's only asking because he was telling me in the kitchen that he's hoping that's his special song." You say before flashing him a cheeky smile.

He huffs, narrowing his eyes at you when the girls cheer happily. Knowing that he will have to sing now. "When the dogs go crazy, I don't want anyone to blame me."

"I'll get my camera ready," you giggle as you take the seat next to him.

He rolls his eyes but he knows when the time comes he will be crooning (very badly) with the song if for nothing but making his girls happy. "Watch the movie," he grumbles. 

You sink back into the sofa, snapping a shot of Alice and Molly snuggling before watching the movie. All whilst trying really hard not to stare at the man sitting next to you. 

It's easy and innocent enough to lean back, throwing both of his arms along the back of the sofa. Subtly encouraging you to lean towards him if you wanted while the movie plays.

It's almost too natural at how you immediately lean into him, keeping your eyes glued to the screen as you do so. Reaching over you put your hand into the bowl that's resting on his lap and pull out a handful of popcorn.

The air in the room is positively domestic and Dave is enjoying it. Of course he's not going to do anything untoward in front of his daughters, but he enjoys the way you relax around him, glancing over and admiring the view of your tits, noticing that you had put them a bit more on display. Carol was wrong that you wouldn't fuck him.

"It's almost time for your solo," you whisper to him before biting down on your lip to stifle the giggle that is threatening to fall from your lips.

Turning towards you, he pouts and sends you a mildly threatening look playfully. "I'm gonna get you back for this.” He warns.

"I'm sure you will," you say with a smirk, before picking up your phone and opening the camera app. "I'm going to watch this every night." 

Dave sighs, ignoring you and the camera when Alice and Molly sit up. "It's time to sing daddy!" Molly squeals and he has to give in. His shoulders slumping, Dave starts to sing the words that he already knows by heart.

You can't help the massive grin that's spreading across your face, despite knowing that your song is coming up next. The sound of the girls giggling happily at their father butchering the song they love so much warms your heart. You record every second and Dave makes sure to pull a face at the camera the second he's finished. "Beautiful. Just... Wow."

"What's that?" Dave cups his ear. "I can't hear you over the dogs howling outside." He is one thousand percent aware that he is a terrible singer. Off pitched and flatter than a pancake on the best days. 

"Beautiful," you mouth to him before laughing. "That was so good that I think I should suggest that you sing the rest of the songs by yourself."

"Don't you dare." He growls.

"Or what?" You challenge with a smirk.

There's nothing he can really threaten you with. You're too good with the girls and it would be cruel to threaten your job over something so small. Especially when you are just teasing. "I'll spank you." He grunts, voice low so the girls don't hear, too wrapped up in the movie to be paying attention.

You choke on air at his warning, your thighs clamping together, as you’re unable to hide how affected you are. "Noted," you murmur back, before taking a sip of your drink.

He chuckles quietly, turning back to the movie and watching while remaining hyper aware of you squirming beside him.

The rest of the movie goes by without a hitch, apart from feeling the embarrassment that came with the solo Molly insisted you performed. Alice had passed out from exhaustion with about twenty minutes of the movie left and Molly sat there yawning her tiny little head off, "Shall I take Molly up and you can carry Alice?"

"Yeah." Dave sets the bowl on the coffee table and turns towards his sleeping daughter, sprawled all over Molly. "Come on, baby girl." He grunts as he lifts her up and stands. "Time for bed."

"Come on honey," you say to Molly before stretching your hand out to her and grinning when she immediately grabs onto it. "No school tomorrow, so you get to pick a whole new movie for Daddy to sing along with." You tease knowing he can hear.

"Great." He huffs sarcastically, aware that he will sing any songs his girls want. Especially after he and Carol sit them down. He climbs the stairs with his youngest completely asleep in his arms. Luckily, you know how they do and have already dressed them in their pajamas. One night without brushing her teeth won't kill her, so Dave moves to her bedroom and pulls the frilly comforter down to lay her down.

You lead Molly into the girls bathroom and spread some toothpaste on her toothbrush, "I'll put pinky in your bed and switch on your nightlight, okay?" You ask before brushing the hair out of her face. The girls are a delight, you love working for the Yorks and despite the cold shoulder from Carol, you wouldn't change a thing.

By the time Molly is headed towards her bed, Alice is tucked in tight with her own night light turned on. Dave grins when she rushes over to him and demands a hug. He scoops her up and carries her into her bedroom despite being a little too big. "Night, baby girl." He kisses her forehead gently.

"Goodnight, honey," you say with a grin before tucking pinky into the crook of her arm. "Sweet dreams." You follow Dave out the door and gently close it behind you.

He wants to tell you, give you a warning for what is to come, but he doesn't. Instead he turns to you and smiles. "Don't worry about cleaning up downstairs. I'll take care of it. You go and relax."

"Are you sure?" You ask, "I'm dying to watch the new episode of Succession."

"Yeah, I'm sure." Anything he can do to put off going into the bedroom. He doesn't want to deal with Carol and hopefully she'll be asleep by the time he does go up. "You deserve it. Go watch your show and thank you for watching the girls tonight." Carol had told them that mommy and daddy were going out together so he assumed they thought it was a date or something.

"Anytime. I love the girls. And this job. Thank you, Mr. York." You say before briefly reaching out and squeezing his hand. "I'll be sure to make sure the last thing I see tonight is that video." You say with a giggle before skipping off to your room.

He rolls his eyes and goes back downstairs. You are teasing him, but he wonders if you really will watch the video. If the last thought you have before you go to sleep will be about him.

You switch the TV on before slipping into something more comfortable, deciding that just an oversized tee and your panties will be warm enough tonight. You think about the way his hand slid across your back and question whether he really said he'd spank you or if you just imagined it. You shake your head and let yourself get lost in your show, once it's over you'll let yourself fantasize for just a little longer.

Downstairs, Dave takes his time. The TV in the kitchen turned on the news after he picks up the bowl and plates, cups and utensils. Deciding that he would wash them by hand instead of loading the dishwasher, he's aware that it's a stalling tactic but the result will be a spotless kitchen for tomorrow morning.

After an hour or so, you figure Dave would have gone to bed by now and you decide that your craving for ice cream can't be put off any longer. Thinking that no one will see you, you leave your robe on the door and tiptoe downstairs towards the refrigerator.

Finishing up the dishes earlier, Dave is sitting at the counter with a sandwich, watching the late night talk shows. Hungry and bored, he had made himself a quick meal and when he catches sight of someone walking, he looks up. "Hey." He murmurs, trying not to stare at you in your t-shirt and nothing else.

You jump at the unexpected greeting, "Oh god. I thought you'd be asleep by now, I'm so sorry, Mr. York."

"How many times do I have to tell you that 'Dave' is alright?" He asks, rolling his eyes slightly.

“Sorry," you giggle, "Are you not tired? I thought you'd be fast asleep by now." You say as you creep to the freezer, figuring it's easier to just grab the ice cream now, rather than going upstairs for your robe.

"Can't sleep." That is true enough. He shrugs and takes a bite of his sandwich. "Decided you needed something sweet?"

"Yeah, I've been craving ice cream for the last hour. Figured I'd finish the rest off from last night," you say as you gesture to the half eaten pint of cookie dough in your hands. "Well, I'll leave you to it. Let you enjoy some peace for a change, Mr Y-, Dave. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He almost calls you sweetheart, but he refrains. Watching you as you pull a spoon out of the drawer. 

You smile and nod at him before making your way back upstairs and immediately snuggling back up under the covers. You pull out your phone and watch the video of him from earlier whilst eating your ice cream. You should feel guilty for your attraction to him, but there's something about him that you can't help but be intoxicated by.

Finishing up your ice cream you decide to indulge in your fantasy, imagining his hands creeping up your leg as you sit next to him on the couch. Silently slipping two fingers into your cunt and bringing you to orgasm as his wife is sleeping in their bed. You circle your clit as fast as you can and cum with a silent moan of his name. 

****

The sound of Dave's footsteps finally making their way towards the master bedroom makes Carol smirk. She positions herself at the end of the bed wearing nothing but her lingerie.

When the door opens, Dave's stomach drops when he sees the bedroom light on and his almost ex-wife posing provocatively at the end of the bed. He sighs and shakes his head, closing the door behind him because you are still awake and your door is only thirty feet away. "Carol." He groans. "I'm not in the mood to do this with you right now. He breathes out in frustration.

"Come on baby," Carol mewls, "Come here. I'll show you just how much I've been missing you."

"Just....go to bed, Carol." Dave sighs again, wondering why she is pushing this when she was the one who filed for divorce in the first place.

"Don't be like that, baby," she pushes, reaching back to undo her bra. "You know I'm the only one who knows what you like.”

Carol is beautiful, he's never denied that. Hell, he was proud of that when she wasn't fucking someone else. Now he just turns away when she reveals her breasts to him, walking towards the closet to get some clothes after he showers. "I guess I'm sleeping on the couch again." 

  "Fine," Carol scoffs before climbing into bed and shaking her head. "Keep fantasizing about someone who'll never fuck you, David."

"Careful Carol," Dave warns, his voice coming out from the closet. "You are sounding bitter." He reappears with lounging pants and a t-shirt along with clean boxers. "And I really fucking hate when you call me David."

"Aw, have I struck a nerve, David?" Carol taunts as she watches him walk into the en-suite.

He doesn't answer, just shuts the door and there is the unmistakable sound of the lock clicking. He doesn't trust her not to try to join him in the shower. While he would get hard, he's just a man, he doesn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing he still finds her physically attractive.

"Asshole," Carol snarls. She would have joined him if he didn't lock the door, wrapped her arms around him and jerked him off before dropping to her knees. She switches off the lamp and stares up at the ceiling. And a few minutes after the shower has been switched on, she hears. The unmistakable sound of his grunts of pleasure, tiptoeing she gets out of bed and makes her way towards the door. Placing an ear against the frame.

His hand is around his cock, eyes closed while his other arm is braced against the shower wall while he strokes himself. Imagining you riding him, you on your knees sucking his cock and looking up at him with those playfully innocent eyes. He knows you aren't, there's no way you are a virgin. "Fuck." He groans, your name spilling from his lips as he works himself closer to cumming.

Carol hisses as she hears her name slip through his lips. "Fucking bitch." She snarls as she stalks back over to the bed and begins to plot on just how to get rid of her.

It doesn't take much longer until he is cumming. Spilling hot ropes of cum over the tiles as he rocks his hips forward into his fist, closing his eyes in bliss once more. Working every drop out of his shaft before he finally starts to soften.

Carol pretends to be asleep as she hears him unlock the door after a while. Internally cursing you both as she thinks about how to make you quit.

Fully dressed, his hair still damp, Dave carries his clothes to drop them in the hamper. Sighing softly when he sees that Carol is apparently asleep, he contemplates going to the couch but decides to get into the bed. Lifting the covers on his side, he slides in and settles.

The urge for Carol to snuggle into him is beaten by her anger. The sound of the woman's name that she had hired falling from his lips makes her stew with anger. If she can't have him, no one can.

The next morning Carol slides out of bed while Dave is still sleeping, pulling on some more comfortable underwear, a shirt and some pajama pants. It's just before 8 and everyone else is still asleep, she walks up to your room and begins to hammer on the door. Hellbent on making you as miserable as she possibly can. She pushes open the door after she hears your sleep filled voice call out a soft ‘hello’.

"We don't hire you to spend all day in bed," she bellows at you, "I have a bunch of errands I need for you to run this morning and they can't wait. Get up. Get showered. Get dressed. You have twenty minutes."

"Yes, of course, Mrs. York," you say whilst pushing yourself up, unsure why she's so pissed off at you. You go over to your drawers and pull out some clear underwear and a sundress before making your way to the family bathroom for a shower. Keeping it short, you wash your hair and clean yourself as quickly as you can before blasting your hair with the hairdryer and brushing your teeth.

As you walk downstairs you see her leaning over the kitchen island scribbling down a list of things which you assume are your tasks for the morning and speaking to a very pissed off looking Dave.

"Good morning." You say meekly as you walk over to the kitchen island, "What did you need me to do?"

Carol sighs before pushing the list towards you, "Me and Dave are taking the girls to breakfast. We have to speak to them this morning, and we don't need anyone breathing down our necks as we do so. Pick up his dry cleaning, do the grocery shopping and make sure that the den has been cleaned by the time we're home. They need to be in a stress free environment. You can go." She says dismissing you after finishing her slightly unhinged rant.

You nod and smile before glancing over at Dave, who looks like he's in utter disbelief. "I'll see you all later."

"There's no need to be such a fucking cunt, Carol." Dave hisses, watching you walk away. "Just because you're pissed off that I didn't roll over and give you what you want doesn't mean you can treat people like shit." Being woken up by her pounding on the door had not put him in a good fucking mood. 

"Oh fuck you, Dave," Carol yells back at him, "She's not so innocent. Dressing like a fucking slut and enticing you. She knows what she's doing... Go wake the girls up, we have a reservation for 9:15."

"Quit yelling." Dave demands, his tone low and deadly. "You need to stop right now."

"Get our kids dressed, David. We have to go tell them that Daddy wants to fuck the nanny." She taunts, her voice barely above a whisper before she turns and makes her way back upstairs to get herself dressed.

"Bitch." Dave growls after her, shaking his head. She is the one who fucked someone else and yet she is framing him as the bad guy. He sighs and shakes his head, heading up the stairs to wake his daughters up, hoping that Carol hadn't woken them with her shouting.

****

The car journey into town passes quickly, whilst you question what you have done to upset Carol so badly replays in your head. You can't think of a single thing. You're always punctual, you're polite and the girls love you. You make dinner every night except Friday when Dave orders takeout and you're always on top of the laundry.

You shake your head as you walk over to the dry cleaners and collect Dave's suits. Paying with the credit card he insisted that you keep on you at all times.

You make sure to collect every item on the shopping list and pick up a few bits that you need and will pay separately for before loading everything into the back of your car. Hoping you have enough time before they're back to put everything away and clear up the den as Carol insisted.

****

Dave's head throbs and his hand tightens around the steering wheel. Carol had managed to do everything she could to make the girls hysterical and fearful of what the future holds with the divorce. "Are you going to leave, daddy?" Molly whimpers, tears staining her cheeks and her shoulders slumped sadly.

"No baby girl, I'm not leaving you." He promises, cursing his wife under his breath as he shoots her a glare. She could have completely avoided this, but her selfish ass wanted to hurt him. "Mommy and daddy aren't going to be married anymore, but daddy is never going to leave you girls." 

Breakfast had been a disaster. She hadn't eased the girls into the idea of the divorce. Just announced that daddy wanted to break up their home and leave. The girls had immediately started crying and he would have murdered her if looks could kill.

Carol smirks as she looks out of the window. They had chatted briefly about how they were going to break the news, but Carol never had an intention of sticking to that plan.

"Daddy will still be living in our house, Molly," Carol remarks, with an emphasis on ‘our’, despite the fact Dave already owned it when they met. "On the bright side, Daddy has agreed to take us all on a nice vacation to Disney World." Carol drops on him. "We can stay in the hotel where you can see the castle."

Dave hisses under his breath, the material of the steering wheel creaking under the pressure of his grip. "That's right, baby girl." He adopts a bright smile as he looks in the rearview mirror as the sniffling momentarily stops. "We will go see all the princesses and get you both tiaras and dresses. What's the name of that place? The Bibbity Bobbity Boutique?" He's a girl dad, he knows what his girls like. "Are you going to be bringing Scott?" He asks Carol, narrowing his eyes at her in warning.

"Who's Scott?" Molly asks immediately, before asking if you were coming too. Carol scowls at the mention of your name and shakes her head, "It'll be just us, baby. Isn't that right, Dave?"

"But I want her to come!" Alice immediately starts to yell, having stayed silent this entire time. "I don't want to go without her! I want her to take me to see Cinderella.

Dave hums and nods. "She'll come, baby girl." He doesn't smile smugly at Carol, because this isn't about hitting at her, it's about his girls being happy. "I promise you.” 

They both begin to cheer and chatter happily in the back, the excitement about disney distracting them from their upset. Carol shakes her head at him as he pulls into the drive away and parks beside your car. "She better have done her tasks," Carol spits before getting out and slamming the door.

"You will be nice or I will have to pull the papers and go for the nastiest fucking divorce I can get." He snarls, issuing his threat before the girls climb out of the car.

"Fuck you," Carol growls back before marching towards the house and leaving Dave to make sure the girls are okay.

The sound of the vacuum cleaning makes her smirk, as she stalks into the den. "Really?" She yells. “I said for it to be finished before we get back. Switch it off and find a movie for the girls. Me and David need to talk to you. Now.”

"Yes, Mrs. York," you mumble, before scrambling to put away the vacuum cleaner. 

Dave quickly herds the kids into the house, aware of how nasty Carol could be to you now that she is not getting her way. His jaw is tight when he marches closer to his ex and glares at her before his expression changes and he smiles at the girls. "Why don't you girls watch a movie?" He suggests. "Or make a list of all the princesses you want to meet."

"We're going to Disney," Molly shouts as she runs towards you, "Daddy said you're coming with us!"

"Oh, wow," you say with a smile, figuring that's what Dave and Carol are about to tell you. "How about you two watch Cinderella whilst I speak with Mommy and Daddy then?"

"No, I want to watch The Princess and the Frog," Alice says with a shake of her head. "Okay, honey," you say whilst pulling up Disney+ and switching on the movie.

Dave and Carol are sitting at opposite ends of the kitchen table when you enter the room, "You wanted to talk?"

"Don't say a fucking word." Dave growls, lifting his hand when Carol opens her mouth and he looks at you. "Sit down," he offers, waiting until you sit before he speaks again. "We took the girls out this morning to tell them that Carol and I are getting a divorce. We signed the papers last night."

"Oh gosh," you say, completely unaware that this was coming. "I'm so sorry.

'It's not your fault." Dave cuts his eyes at Carol, as if daring her to argue that point with him. "But, with the divorce, for the kids, we are both remaining in the house.

"Okay," you say with a nod, "Is there anything I can do to make this easier?"

"You're moving into the basement," Carol snaps, before Dave can answer. "It'll be too upsetting for the girls to see me go downstairs every night.”

"Would you be willing to move into the in-law suite in the basement?" Unlike Carol, he's not going to order you to move down there. "That's what Carol meant to ask." He hisses. "That way she can move into your room? You will have more privacy down there." 

"Of course," you reply immediately, "That makes perfect sense. I can start moving my things down there in a moment and be settled in for tonight."

"Thank you." Dave offers you a smile and ignores the scoff that comes from Carol. "I'm going to go ahead and apologize if things are tense around here while we accept that this is happening." Those words are directed towards Carol even if they are spoken to you. "But let me know if there are any issues. You are employed by me." 

You nod politely at him avoiding Carol's gaze. "I'll start now, if that's okay?"

Dave nods. "Go ahead." He sighs. "Let me know if you need any help."

"Thank you, Mr. York." You say, making your way up the stairs.

It doesn't take long until you've packed everything into boxes and emptied your drawers and closet. It'll take a few trips up and down to get everything out of the room, but at least it'll keep you out of Mrs. York's line of fire.

"I'm sure you'd love to help her," Carol scoffs before picking up her car keys and announcing she's off to her sisters for a few drinks.

"Say hi to Scott." Dave calls out sarcastically, sighing as she flips him a finger.

****

The basement is surprisingly nice. The Yorks had it remodeled just before you moved in and you'll have your own bathroom down here which is a bonus. Everything is modern with a sleek TV on the wall. It all looks untouched You start to unpack your clothing and hang it up in the closet before venturing back upstairs and collecting a few more boxes of your stuff.

Dave is scrolling on his phone perched at the end of the kitchen island and it makes you smile to see how invested he is in whatever he's reading, "Did you want me to make the girls lunch?" You ask quietly. 

“I’m sorry." Dave murmurs, setting his phone down and looking up at you. "I don't know why she's being such a bitch, but don't let her abuse you." Now that it's just the two of you, he can be a little more blunt. He knows why she's being nasty, but that's not how he wants you to find out that he's interested in you.

"Don't apologize," you say with a shrug, stepping closer to him. "I can't imagine what you're both going through right now, but I meant what I said, if there's anything I can do to help... Please don't hesitate to ask."

“I appreciate that." He does, nodding and giving you a small smile. "I just want to make sure the girls aren't affected too much." He reaches out and pats your shoulder. "I'll make the girls lunch. You too.”

"Thank you, Dave." You say with a grin, before briefly rubbing his shoulder in return. "I'll check on the girls." They're sitting on the couch together, snuggled up and speaking in their own little language and you see the movie has ended. "Finding Nemo next?" You ask quietly and they both nod in your direction before turning back and continuing their little discussion. 

In the kitchen, Dave opts to throw together grilled ham and cheese sandwiches along with some tomato soup. A good comfort food on a day where everyone could use a little bit of comfort. Knowing that the girls like extra cheese on their sandwiches, he makes them exactly how they like and cuts them into triangles and sets them on a plate along with some grapes and their little bowls of soup. "Girls! Lunch is ready."

"Come on, babies," you say before pausing the TV, "Nemo will be here when you get back... Or not. I don't know if he's missing yet."

The girls follow you into the kitchen and take their usual seats and you find yourself sitting next to Dave. "This looks delicious."

"Comfort food." He reaches out and tugs on Molly's braid playfully. "The monkeys like it." He teases, making both girls groan at him.

"It looks great. And here I was thinking you only knew how to order pizza. What other secrets are you keeping from me?" You giggle at him.

Dave chuckles, smirking slightly. "If you only knew." He teases, picking up half of his sandwich and taking a bite. "How is your move coming along?"

"A few more boxes to go. But all my clothes are unpacked and put away. Just need to bring the boxes and my bed covers. Hoping I can get it done in two trips.”

"I'll help you." Dave volunteers as he dips the sandwich in the soup. "I appreciate you doing this. Honestly, I had thought you should have that space when you took the job, since it's more room and privacy." It's a good little space. Like a small apartment and it allows you to come and go without going through the house if you wanted. 

"Thank you." You say at the offer of help. "Can I ask why you've never used it before?" You ask quietly, "It's gorgeous down there. I feel like I need to start paying you rent." 

"We were keeping it open in case Carol's parents needed to come live with us." Dave shrugs slightly, not really sure why she was so insistent that it be built but not used. "But right now, that's not going to happen."

"Oh." You say quietly, "If it does, will I get a notice period?" You say, panic rising at the thought of losing your home and your job all in one day.

"It won't happen." The house is his. It had been his before he married Carol and while he was letting her live here while the girls were young, she would have zero say in what happened here. "I promise you."

"Okay," you say, unable to disguise your relief. You eat the rest of your lunch in comfortable silence, the girls eventually nagging you for a bowl of popcorn to take back into the den with them. "Is it okay?" You ask Dave, who's clearly amused at how they're already asking for more food.

"Yeah." He knows they are still shaken from breakfast. They hadn't even touched their food because they were so upset.

"Whatever they want today." He lifts his brows at them. "But only today."

"Popcorn it is," you say as you reach into the pantry and pull out their favorite kind. "I'll bring it in for you. Molly knows how to unpause the movie anyway." You say before they scramble back into the den. You look over at Dave who's back scrolling his phone as you microwave the popcorn, "So... Disney?" You ask with an amused laugh. "That's one way to soften the blow."

"That wasn't my idea." Dave grunts. "She's the one who wanted the divorce and now that I've agreed to it, she's making my life hard." He shakes his head. "Now she's trying to get me to take her back and that's not happening.

"Oh," you mumble under your breath, "I'm really sorry you're going through this, Dave. You're a good man. A really good man." The microwave pings and you turn around to fill the bowl. "I'll take this to the girls." 

"Not really." He knows he's not a good man. He's okay with that. He's a good father, a good provider. He had thought he was a pretty good husband but that was proven false. “Thanks." He murmurs as you carry the bowl out of the kitchen.

“I think you are," you say with a shrug as you walk out of the room and into the den. "Try to chew it this time," you say before handing the girls the bowl, "Do not inhale it."

"Nope!" Alice giggles and grins as she shoves a handful of the popcorn in her mouth.

"Monkey," you say with a mock growl, "Be good you two, I'll be back after I've finished moving my stuff into my new room." Walking back into the kitchen you decide to fill the dishwasher before announcing that you're going upstairs to get your last few boxes.

Dave shoves the last dish into the dishwasher and wipes his hands. The kitchen is clean so Carol can't bitch at you about not doing your job even though on Saturday's it wasn't your responsibility to clean up.

You make your way upstairs and hear his footsteps follow behind you as you walk into your now old room.

"What's left?" He asks, although he sees the boxes on the bed. He picks up the two and hums. "Pretty heavy.”

You feel your face immediately flush with heat as you see the box he has in his hands, and you begin to pray he doesn't look down. You had purposely left it up here, to make sure that the girls weren't around when you carried it downstairs. "Just these. And the bed covers," you say, trying to draw his attention away from what's in the top box.

"Okay." Dave notices that you seem nervous and he wonders why until he looks down into the box. He smirks slightly and doesn't say anything, not wanting to embarrass you quite yet.

"I can take those," you say, stepping towards him, "You should….. You should go spend time with the girls. I don't want to take up your time."

"No, I'm good." He twists the boxes out of your reach and hustles towards the door. "I'll help you unpack once I get these downstairs.” 

"You really don't have to," you call after him as he exits the room, the only thing left to grab is your bed covers. Which you do as quickly as you can before running after him.

Dave grins when you can't see him, speeding up as he rushes down the stairs and heading towards the basement entrance. Putting some distance between the two of you without making it obvious.

When you finally catch up to him, he's standing in front of your bed still clutching your boxes. "Thank you," you say, throwing your bed covers onto the bed and reaching over to try and take the box from him.

"You're awfully protective of these boxes." He teases. "Hiding a dead body inside? Doesn't seem heavy enough, but maybe it's pieces of someone." 

"Something like that," you say with an awkward giggle, "Thank you again for helping, but I don't want to keep you. I'm sure you have much better things to do.”

Dave gives the boxes over and hums. Walking towards the door. "Hey-" he pauses as he opens it and looks back at you. "Silk bags are better to store your toys in. Learned that the hard way." He winks at you and steps out, closing the door behind him.

"Fuck," you mumble as you throw yourself back on to your bed, unsure how you're ever going to show your face ever again.

****

Hours later, you still haven't shown your face and Dave wonders if it's pure embarrassment that keeps you trapped in the basement. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything. Opening the basement door, he calls downstairs. "I've ordered dinner, whenever you want to come up." The girls have been coloring and he knows they are going to get hungry soon. Carol still hasn't come home but he's not worried about that.

After putting the finishing touches on your room, you can't help but think thankful that he's ordered dinner. Your tummy growls in appreciation as the smell starts wafting down into the basement. "I'm coming," you yell back up at him, and then groan at your poor choice of words.

Dave doesn't comment, just closes the door and goes back to dish up the kids plates. He knows they will be happy with his selection. "Girls! Dinner!"

You enter the room and notice that Dave's dishing out the food. To be helpful you get everyone a drink before asking if Carol is back.

"No." He doesn't have any opinion about it either way and while you have been downstairs organizing your room, he's been moving her things into your old bedroom, even going so far as to make the bed. She wouldn't have any excuse to try to share the bed with him again tonight.

"Do you want a beer? Or some wine?" You ask, as you pour the girls some juice. "And thank you, this looks delicious."

"Nah, I'm going to have some water tonight. But you can have whatever you want." He makes sure you know that he doesn't expect you to abstain just because he's not drinking.

"Water sounds good," you say, as you get two large glasses and add some ice. "Thank you for your help earlier, and I apologize if that made you uncomfortable. I would have never agreed to let you help if I had remembered."

Dave snorts and shakes his head. "I am a grown man, you think that I haven't seen plenty of them?" He asks, not mentioning exactly what they are since the girls are eating. "Bought them. Been in a store surrounded by them. Even have a few of my own.”

"Oh, yeah, of course," you splutter, wondering which ones he has for himself. "I-uh-I just wanted to make sure.”

He smirks slightly as he takes the glass you had poured for him and motions to the table. "Sit down and eat." He tells you. "It's not pizza this time."

"It looks good," you say quietly, "So what movie is Daddy singing along to tonight?" You ask the girls.

"No singing," Molly says with a serious little shake of her head, "We are watching Stuart Little. No songs in that."

"Stuart Little might be my new favorite movie." Dave huffs, sitting down and grinning at the girls. Since Carol has stopped yelling and screeching, the girls have calmed down and asked him several questions about the situation.

"So popcorn and movie snacks for dessert?" You ask, already knowing the answer.

"Yay!!!!" The twin cheers from the girls makes Dave chuckle and he shakes his head. 

"You two are going to turn into popcorn." 

"You're not allowed to eat us," Alice declares before taking another bite of her dinner. The rest of dinner is spent listening to Alice tell you that Dave once fought a bear and because her Daddy is the ‘bestest and the strongest’, he won.

"Go change into your pajamas and get settled into the living room," you tell the girls after they finish their dinner. "Me and your Daddy will get the movie ready."

"At least they aren't crying anymore." Dave could strangle Carol for the way she handled the entire situation. "I'll do anything to make sure they don't have a day like today again."

"Kids are more resilient than we give them credit for," you say, briefly squeezing his hand. "I'll clear up, and you make the popcorn?"

"It's technically your day off and you've had a shit day." He reminds you with a huff.

"No, I haven't," you say, "I got to move into a new room and now I'm about to snuggle up with my favorite people on the world's most comfortable couch... That's not a shit day."

It sounds pretty good when you put it like that. "Okay." He gives in, shaking his head. "I'll make the popcorn and get the snacks."

"Perfect." you say whilst beginning to load the plates into the dishwasher, "But Dave, I do need to ask you an important question before we go and start the movie though…”

"What is it?" He frowns in concern, wondering if you are about to demand a raise or needing to renegotiate how much you are watching the girls.

"I really need to know... just how many bears you've fought?" You say with a loud giggle.

Dave chuckles and rolls his eyes. "Just one bear." He promises. "Mean bastard."

"Remind me to never get on your bad side." You get everyone a drink and wait patiently for Dave to pass you the popcorn. "Come on Daddy, the girls are waiting." You say with a grin.

Dave grunts quietly and tries to ignore the way his cock twitches. The comment is innocent enough, although his own thoughts are not.

As expected Molly and Alice are snuggled up comfortably on the couch wrapped in their favorite blanket waiting patiently to start the movie. Dave sits next to them and in turn you sit next to him, hoping he'll do as he did last night so you can innocently lean into him. "Okay, girls. It’s Stuart Little time," you announce before pressing play.

There's something very cozy and domestic about the feeling in the house. Dave sighs, relaxed for the first time today and leans back. His arms automatically spread across the back of the couch and he smiles as he looks down at his girls.

You lean into him and cover yourself with the spare blanket, the girls watch the movie with an intensity that makes you and Dave share a look. A look that makes you think about just how handsome he is, and without realizing it, you're staring. Taking in his features and wondering how his lips taste.

Dave is aware that you are staring at him but he keeps his eyes on the TV. Not wanting there to be a moment where he forgets his kids are sitting next to him.

The sound of the credits rolling pulls you out of your daydream, and you smile as you hear the girls plead with Dave to let them share a room tonight.

"Of course you two can sleep in the same bed." Dave wouldn't deny them, not tonight. He groans as he stands. "Come on girls. Time to brush your teeth and I'll tuck you in. Say Goodnight."

"Goodnight, babies," you say as they both give you a big cuddle. You get up, so you can start to clean up as Dave takes them upstairs.

Making sure to wash the popcorn bowls up by hand and wipe down the counters. It isn't long until you hear Dave coming back downstairs. "Asleep already?"

"Thank god." Dave groans quietly, allowing his defenses to come down now that the kids are asleep. "Hopefully they don't have any bad dreams."

"They'll be okay, they'll snuggle up with each other and sleep fine. So, what's your plans for the rest of the evening Mr. York?"

"Move the last of Carol's stuff to her new room." Dave rolls his eyes, annoyed that she had wormed her way out of the task but he wasn't giving her an excuse to stay.

"Sounds fun," you say, before briefly rubbing his shoulders. "Do you think she'll be back tonight?" 

"To be honest, I don't have a clue." Dave shrugs. "She's probably with her personal trainer."

"Oh," you mumble, "She's... I don't know. Crazy. You're… yeah. I don't know how anyone could have you, and take you for granted. I'm sorry, Dave.”

"Don't be sorry. It's - you didn't do it." He shrugs. "But she might try to attack you and for that, I'm sorry.”

"I'm tougher than I look," you say with a smile, "But honestly, I don't understand why she's so mad at me."

"She thinks- well," Dave sighs and decides to be honest. "She knows that I'm- attracted to you and she's convinced that I wanted to get a divorce so I could sleep with you. Rather than it being because she cheated."

"You're attracted to me?" you mumble quietly, “I never realized."

"You're beautiful, kind and great with my children." Dave shrugs. "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable and I would never act on it."

"Why?" You ask a little too quickly, "I'm not uncomfortable."

"I-" he stops talking and stares at you. "Are you saying you want me to act on it?" He asks.

"Yes. I mean you’re not together anymore, right? And we’re both adults. So, yes." You say, before biting down on your lip. "But only if you want to." 

Dave exhales slowly and he steps closer to you. "The papers are signed but it's not official yet." He explains, wanting to be transparent. "Do you want to wait?"

"Do you want to wait?" You ask, before moving closer to him. "I'm not going to pretend I don't feel a little guilty.. but the thoughts I have about you…”

"What kind of thoughts have you had?" He's intrigued about that, smirking slightly as he waits for your answer.

"So many," you admit shyly, "I think about how you'd groan with your cock in my mouth."

"Shit." He hisses quietly, thinking about how he would groan too as his cock twitches. "What else?"

"Your hands, I got off last night to the thought of you playing with my pussy on your couch." You whisper, feeling your cheeks heat up as you admit your secrets to him. 

"You thought about me fingering you while watching the movie?" He asks, chuckling slightly.

"No," you say, shaking your head, "I imagined we were alone. Everyone was asleep. You had your hand over my mouth forcing me to keep quiet."

He smirks and watches you fidget under his intense stare. "Interesting."

"I think about you a lot," you say as his eyes burn into you.

He hadn't known that, but it's very intriguing for him to find out. His eyes darken and the thrill of Carol being completely wrong courses through his veins and makes him harder than a rock. You want him and it's a very heady thought. "So you wouldn't say no if I wanted to kiss you?"

"No, I'd really like that."

Dave hums, reaching out to grab your waist and he slowly draws you closer. The idea that this is wrong is still there, burning softly and yet it adds to the thrill of the moment. His eyes drift down to your lips and licks his own.

You slightly rock up onto your tiptoes, to move your face closer to his. Feeling impatient as his breath fans out on your lips, but waiting for him to make that move and to finally capture your lips.

He keeps his eyes on yours, leaning in and reaching up to cup the back of your head. Angling it just so as he presses his lips against your far more gently than he wants to.

Your hands find purpose on his chest, pulling him closer before increasing the pressure on his lips. You kiss him with an intensity that you've never kissed anyone before, your tongue silently pleading for entry as you lick along his bottom lip.

He's surprised that you are trying to take the lead. Making him growl and open his mouth but it's his own tongue that slides out, pushing into your mouth as he takes control.

You can't help but moan into his mouth as he takes control. The grip he has on you is tightening as presses you up against the kitchen island and grinds his hard cock against you.

It might be too much too soon for you but Dave cannot quite rein himself in. Too long pining after you and wondering what you would taste like, how you would respond, has him eagerly greedy for you. His hands slide down to your ass and he fills both hands, groaning as he pulls his lips away to nip and lick along your throat.

"Dave," you moan as he sucks your neck, his hands grabbing and squeezing you as you dig your fingernails into his clothed chest. "Need more." You beg, pleading for more over and over as he continues to drag his lips across your neck.

He mouths at your pulse and groans, finding your begging to be the sexiest thing that he has heard in forever. His cock twitches and jumps against your stomach as he kisses back up to your mouth and his hands slide under your dress to cup your ass under your panties. 

Reluctantly you pull your lips from his and you break the kiss, "If we don't move somewhere now, I'm going to let you fuck me on your kitchen island, Dave."

As much as he wants to just bury himself inside you right here, he doesn't want the girls to find him like this. Or for Carol to walk in. Groaning he squeezes your ass harshly and pulls away, panting slightly. "Upstairs." He decides, grabbing your hand and immediately starts dragging you towards the staircase.

You giggle as he drags you up the stairs, taking the stairs two at the time whilst you run to keep up with him.

Once you are on the top floor, Dave spins you around and presses you up against the wall, his mouth latching onto yours again and his hands diving back under your dress to get under your panties.

"Fuck," you moan breathlessly, as he circles your clit with two fingers. "Please, don't stop."

"I’m not." Dave growls, hating how he cannot move his hand like he wants to and despite telling you he won't stop, he pulls his hand out of your panties and reaches into his pants pocket to pull out a knife.

Flicking it open, the blade slices through the thin material at your hip and he switches hands around your back to cut the other side off of you and let them drop to the floor in a ruined heap.

"You're replacing those," you say with a smirk, as he thrusts a finger inside of you.

"Sure." He groans, closing the blade with one hand and shoving it back into the other pocket as he feels your walls clench around him. "I’ll get right on that."

"You better," you tease, as he works magic with his fingers.

Thrusting in and out of your cunt as you crumble around him. Watching through your lashes as he pulls a stream of pleasure from you without breaking a sweat.

It's only a short distance to the bedroom, but Dave can't move. Not when his fingers are buried inside you and the whimpers pour out of your mouth like a prayer. He wants to make sure that you are ready to spend all night in his bed, filled with his cock.

Your hands grip onto him with all your might, your legs threatening to give way as your orgasm is rapidly approaching. Not wanting to make too much noise, you sink your teeth into his neck and suck as he picks up the pace.

Your name is a quiet hiss as he curls his fingers, desperately wanting you to cum so he can get you into his bed.

The sound of your name slipping through his gritted teeth is enough to send you flying over that edge, clamping down and soaking his fingers as you whimper into his neck.

Your body sags into the way, would have crumpled into the floor if he wasn't pinning you there as you cum for him. Soaking his fingers and making him groan at how tight your little cunt gets when you cum.

"Bedroom," you plead, as you fight the urge to fall to the floor. Pleasure still coursing through your veins as he pulls his fingers out of you.

"Come on." Dave guides you towards the door and opens it to reveal his now empty bedroom. Most of the shit decorating it was Carol's and it was now in boxes in the room you had used to sleep in.

"How do you want me?" You ask as he leads you into his bedroom.

"Lay down." Dave orders, eager to see you spread out on the bed he had shared with Carol. The bed that he had imagined you in several times now.

"Yes sir." Walking backwards you keep your eyes glued to his as you settle back on his bed, and await your next command.

He stares at you. Reaching for the hem of his worn soft t-shirt to pull over his head. Thankful that it's not a work day and he's not battling with dozens of buttons on his dress shirts. "Fuck."

"Been dying to see those broad shoulders up close," you admit as he moves closer to you.

"I'm not exactly sporting a six pack." He's still in good shape but he's older. Harder areas have gone soft because of lack of dedication to the gym.

"You look fucking delicious," you say as your fingers creep down your torso towards your dripping wet cunt. "So fucking good."

Dave grunts, stepping forward and grabbing the front of your dress. It's like you tease him with the flirty, flowy fabrics and he rips it right down the middle.

"Are you planning on ruining everything I own, Mr. York?" You say, as you look down as your shredded sundress.

"I might." He chuckles smugly, smirking as he finishes ripping it completely in two. "Then you'll walk around naked."

"Seems wildly inappropriate," you giggle, as you pull him in for a kiss. "You're replacing that as well by the way."

He rolls his eyes, leaning you back and pressing you into the bed as he starts to kiss you again.

Your hands find the buckle of his belt and start to undo it, before pulling it out of his jeans. "Take them off," you order against his lips, desperate to feel all of him.

He knows you are eager but the fast that you are trying to strip him makes him grin. Pulling away, he stands at the end of the bed and flicks the button of his jeans open before dragging the zipper down.

"Hurry," you whine, as he takes his time. A grin splashed across his face as he watches you writhe impatiently for him.

"Hmmmm." He pulls his jeans and boxers down to the thatch of curls at the base of his cock, just showing you the beginning of his shaft as he pushes it down. "You want to see?"

"Yes," you say far too quickly, "I want to see."

He chuckles again and lets you see his cock one inch at a time as he drags it down enough until the head is springing free and his cock bounces up to jut out from its confines.

"Fuck," you exhale, at the sight of it. It's big. Bigger than you've ever seen, and you salivate just looking at it. "How is that going to fit?"

"It'll fit." He promises, wrapping his hand around it and kicking off the jeans and boxers from his ankles. "It'll stretch you out and fill you up, but he'll fit."

“I’m going to be feeling you for days," you say, before moving up and kneeling in front of him. Tentatively you reach out and take him in your hands, giving him a few languid strokes.

"How many guys have you fucked?" He asks, wanting to know more about your experience than body count.

"One," you say with a shrug, "We were together for a few years.”

"So you probably haven't been fucked in many positions other than missionary, or riding." He huffs.

"I like reverse cowgirl," you tell him, before mimicking his huff.

"Very fancy." He chuckles, pushing you back into the bed and crawling after you.

"Are you mocking me, Mr. York? Just because I've not gotten much experience, doesn't mean that I don't know what I like... Or what I'd like to try."

"Not mocking." His playful face drops and he stares down at you. "Teasing. I was trying to put you at ease."

“Well, stop teasing, and fuck me, Dave.”

“Yes madam." Dave grunts, willing to follow orders if it means he gets to fuck you. He picks up one of your legs and shuffles closer.

You're completely pliant for him, letting him mold and twist your body however he wants ready for him to push into you. "I'm on birth control," you say as he reaches over to his drawers, "You can go bare if you want to.”

Dave stops and stares at you for a moment, weighing his options. "I was tested when I found out she was cheating.” Dave grunts. "She has Chlamydia." He had been furious while taking the antibiotics, but still he hadn't said anything. That was why he stopped fucking her.

"Are you clean? I got tested before I got this job. And the only action I've seen has been from my special box."

"I finished up the antibiotics two months ago. Haven't touched her since." He promises. "Had my follow up a month ago with a clean bill of health.

"It's up to you," you say before propping yourself up and giving him a kiss. "Just decide and fuck me already, York."

He snorts, amused by your impatience. "Then I'm going to fuck you raw so you can feel me for days and drip my cum for hours."

The whimper that you make from his words alone, makes him grin. As you pull him closer to you, ready to feel him split your little pussy wide open.

Dave lines up, teasing your clit with the head of his cock before he lines up with your dripping cunt. His eyes meet yours before he pushes the head of his fat cock inside you.

You wince, the stretch of him sharper than just a sting as he starts to split you open. "More," you plead, with a shaky breath.

"Watch." He orders you, wanting you to see him split your cunt open.

You nod yes as you position yourself to watch him fill you up, your fingertips gripping onto the sheets as you brace yourself for what's to come.

Dave resists the urge to bury himself inside your tight heat. Slowly stretching you out and watching as your lips pull wide to take him.

"Dave," you whimper, as he inches himself into you. He's overwhelming, everyone of your nerve ends are a-light as he consumes you. It's a little too much but not enough all at

once.

"It's okay." He promises you, reaching up and caressing your cheek as he pushes deeper. 

You whisper in response as he continues to inch himself in, "It's so big, Dave."

He chuckles and continues to slowly bury himself inside you until he is finally grinding against your pelvis.

"Fuck, Dave" you whine, as your fingernails dig into his collarbone, "It's a- it's so fucking big." 

"You took it." He reminds you.

"Move," you beg, wanting the pain to be eclipsed by pleasure, "Make me cum.”

Dave braces his weight on his hands and pulls his hips back. Ready to destroy you with the pace he is going to set.

"Are you going to make me beg? Or are you going to fuck me?"

The smirk he sends you is full of promise as he slams his hips forward to steal your breath and make your eyes cross.

He knocks the wind out of you, your chest heaving up and down as you gasp for breath as he begins his relentless pace. Fucking you deeper into his mattress with every thrust.

Now that he's broken the spell, he grits his teeth. Keeping his hips rocking hard and deep as he drills into you, fucking you like he's imagined.

The noises he pulls from you are dripping in sin, every moan and gasp of his name getting louder and louder as he fucks into you, dragging his cock against that little spot of heaven inside of you every time. He snarls something at you that you don't quite catch, seconds before you clamp down hard around him and everything temporarily goes black. Pleasure coursing through you as he continues his harsh pace.

Reaching back, he's dragging your legs up to shove them onto his shoulder. Folding you over so he can thrust even deeper.

"Oh fuck,” you gasp, as he shows no signs of slowing down. Fucking deeper and harder with every snap of his hips, "Fuck, Dave.”

Your fingernails dig into his shoulders and he groans when he feels the first flutterings of your pussy start to clench around him like a vice.

He throws you off the edge which a grunt of your name as you start to cum hard, your pussy clamping down so hard that you feel his hips stutter and his cock start to throb.

"Shit." Your cunt is tight and it's almost pathetic how quickly he is cumming. He groans your name and starts to paint your walls with his sticky seed.

He cums long and hard, every thrust filling you up more and more as your cunt milks him dry of his pleasure. He drops down on you, bearing his weight on his elbows as he rests his forehead against yours.

"Fuck." He hisses quietly, panting to catch his breath. He kisses your lips a few times and then pulls back to examine your face. "Are you good?"

"Really good," you say with a smile, "But I don't think I'll be able to walk normally for the next week."

He chuckles and leans down to press his lips to yours once more. "Then I did my job.”

"Dave," you say softly, as he gently pulls out of you, "Was it as good as you had imagined?"

He snorts and rolls over to the side so he can pull you against him. "Better."

"Good," you say as you nuzzle into him, wrapping yourself around him before murmuring into his neck, "A very very handsome but impatient man just ripped my clothes to shreds, so i'm going to need you to set an alarm so I can sneak downstairs, so no one catches me walking around naked."

"You can steal my bathrobe." Dave chuckles quietly, his hand rubbing up and down your back with an easy tenderness.

"I’d rather just wrap myself up in you," you say as you close your eyes, sleep beginning to take over. "Goodnight, Dave."

He hums, surprised that you had so easily decided to fall asleep on him. Your body is completely draped over him and he doesn't mind at all. 

The sound of little cries coming from down the hall wake you both. Alice has clearly woken up from a bad night terror, and you glance at the clock. 4:27am.

"Shit." Dave groans quietly, shifting you off of him and rolling to his side to get up. "I'll check on her."

"My panties," you remind him, you cut them off in the hall.

He grunts at you as he swipes his boxers up off the ground to tug on. He can't walk into his daughter's bedroom bare assed. "Got it."

"Grumpy," you grunt back at him with a giggle, before snuggling up to his pillow. Knowing Alice will just need a drink of juice and a cuddle from Daddy and she'll be sound asleep in no time.

You can hear him, the way he speaks to her in a hushed calming tone as he reassures and soothes her fears. Despite his reluctance to accept it, he really is a good man, and an even better father.

It's evident that Carol never came home last night, obviously preferring to spend the night with her lover, so Dave comes back into the room and drops your ruined panties next to the torn off dress and climbs back into the bed with you. Wrapping his arms around you and dragging you back to his chest. "Few more hours." He mumbles, kissing your lips.

You hum happily against his lips, tangling yourself back up in him. "Alice okay?"

"She's good." His hand stays on your back, keeping you anchored. It's been a long time since he's slept like this with Carol, and he didn't remember sleeping as well as he had before Alice woke up. "Bad dream."

"Poor thing," you say, as pepper a kiss on his lips. Sleep threatens to pull you back under as you yawn quietly.

"Go back to sleep baby." Dave grunts softly. "Them wanting breakfast will come way too soon."

A few hours pass much too quickly, and you groan as the alarm rings out on his phone. "Everything aches," you mumble into his warm skin, "Everything."

"Stay here." Dave isn't exactly a morning person, but the military has conditioned him to get up and get moving. He kisses your forehead as he starts to shift you off of him. "I'll get the girls up and get breakfast started. Take a hot bath."

"Thank you," you mumble, "Will you bring me up some clothes? I could take the girls to Dunkin’ after my bath if you want?"

"I'll get you some." He promises, smiling at your want to make the day good for his girls. "We could do that. If they aren't full."

"Yeah?" You say as you lift yourself up, completely aware of how exposed you are but uncaring. "We could take them to the park or something afterwards."

"Something." He agrees, his dark eyes drinking in the sight of your sleep warm, sexy figure in his bed. "How much more do you need to do in your room?" He asks. "I need to get new locks for my door and I'll put some on your suite door."

"Naughty boy," you say with a shake of your head, "I have a box to unpack and that's it. I think I might go to Target and get some bits to make it more homely if you're good with me hanging up pictures?"

"Sweetheart....” he frowns and wonders if that is why you hadn't hung anything up in your room. Did Carol say something to you? "That is your space. Nothing spackle and paint couldn't fix. Decorate it however you want."

"No," you say, before forcing yourself out of the bed, "I just didn't want to overstep. I'm going to have my bath, please don't forget to bring me some clothes."

"'ll go get them right now." He promises, sending you a small wink before he changes into some lounging clothes.

"Thanks baby," you say as you slide into the bathroom, and run yourself a hot bath. Hoping it relieves a little bit of the ache between your legs.

Downstairs, Dave stops short when he sees Carol in the kitchen, cooking as if nothing has changed. He doesn't say anything, just sighs as he notices she is wearing something new and moves to go down to the in-law suite.

The urge to have a long soak to ease your aching muscles is beaten out by the urge to spend time with Dave and the girls. You steal a little of his shampoo and body wash, before listening out to hear his footsteps, so you can get out and get dried and dressed.

Dave gathers your clothes, ignoring the comment that is probably supposed to be some sort of scathing remark from his wife as he walks past her. Carrying them upstairs, he sets them on the bed and proceeds to get dressed completely so he can take you and the girls and leave if he needs to.

"Hey," you say with a smile, as you enter the bedroom. Blissfully unaware that Carol is back in the house, and is likely powering up for a huge argument. "Good choice. I love this dress. Thank you.”

"You're welcome." Dave had slipped on the wedding ring as a habit, he rarely took it off, but he decides to set it inside the box where his watches are kept. "Come down whenever you want, but....Carol decided to come home."

"Ok," you say quietly, with a little nod. Noticing the change in his demeanor, you decide to keep your distance. "Are you ok?"

"I'm good." He promises you, reaching out and caressing your cheek. "If you don't want to be involved in all this bullshit, I won't blame you."

 "Too late," you say with a small smile, reaching up on your tiptoes and pressing a kiss to his lips. "I'll get dressed and we can go out. Take the girls to get donuts like we said."

"Good girl." Dave smirks and sends you another wink before he slips out of the room. Once the door closes, his face drops and hardens. He sighs, deciding to not wake the girls as he goes back downstairs to face his soon to be ex.

You take your time getting dressed, and eventually decide it's time to face the music. 'They're no longer together, you didn't do anything wrong,’ you repeat over and over as you make your way downstairs. "Where are the girls?" You ask Dave as you enter the kitchen.

"Still asleep." Dave glances towards Carol. "All your things have been moved to the other bedroom." He tells her.

Carol scoffs, "Clearly you had to make room for something else in our bedroom."

"We no longer have a bedroom." Dave reminds her, frowning. "You will not start shit in front of the girls or I will make you regret it."

"Sure, you will," Carol snarls. "What was the point of moving the little slut into the basement if you're going to have her up there anyway?"

"I'll go get the girls up." You say with a shake of your head, not wanting to listen to what's inevitably about to go down.

"Thank you." Dave spares you a glance before he raises his eyebrows at Carol's obvious attempt to create some kind of family meal. "Enjoy your food by yourself."

"The girls will be down to join me soon enough, David." Carol says before stepping out in front of him. "Are you done? Are you satisfied? You've fucked the whore now… Let's just move on past all of this."

He steps back when she tries to touch him. "Carol, stop." He huffs sternly. "This is not going to happen."

"Come on, baby," she huffs, "We've both had our fun and now we can get back to what really matters, us. Plus, we have a few friends coming for dinner tonight."

He pulls away when she once again tries to reach for him, frowning in annoyance. "Why do you have people coming over, Carol?" He demands. "We are getting a divorce."

"Because it's been a while," Carol sighs, "And maybe that's what we need. To remember who we are. My Mom is going to pick the girls up around five and she can find somewhere else for the night."

"There is no we anymore." He groans, rolling his eyes and irritated that she has obviously made plans without consulting him. Plans that include him. "You wanted this divorce. Why are you doing this now?"

Carol shakes her head, not willing to answer any questions and begins to walk back over to the counter, "Just tell her she can't stay here tonight, David. They'll be here at 7."

"She can be down in her room." Dave counters. "I will not be kicking her out for some insane dinner party you have decided to throw."

"Fine, but she's to stay there. I don't want her ruining our evening." She huffs before stirring the burning eggs, and shaking her head again.

****

You wake and dress the girls, taking time to do their hair as they requested before taking them downstairs. The smell of burned food makes you grimace as they run excitedly in the kitchen towards Dave. "They're excited for donuts."

"I've made breakfast." Carol insists, motioning towards the table. "We will eat as a family.”

"I promised them donuts." Dave doesn't normally go against Carol's wishes, but she doesn't get to just show up and throw off his own plans in her attempt to make a happy little family picture. The time for that is gone. "Hey babies.” He grunts when they slam into him and wraps his arms around their little bodies. "You girls want to go get in my car?" He asks, looking over at you. "We're gonna go get those donuts you wanted."

"Sorry, Mrs- Sorry," you stutter, unsure what to call her now. Before walking over to Dave. "I didn't think... Me and Dave had said we were taking them for donuts and then to the park."

The pan slams down on the counter as Carol glares at you. "When did you decide what my girls do?" She hisses

"I don't," you say, keeping your voice steady, "As I said it was discussed with Dave. You weren't here." You say before turning to face Dave, "I'm going to go and get them strapped in. See you out there." 

"So you just replace me." Carol demands, this time keeping her voice low as the girls are quickly shuttled out of the room and the house. "Just that easily?

Dave sighs and shakes his head. "Don't start this shit, Carol." He groans. "I don't want to continue fighting. If you do...I'm going to have to make you leave.”

"Fuck you," she hisses before slamming her hand down on the counter, "I won't be here when you get back as I'm going to get the groceries for dinner. Have the decency to make sure the table is set for our friends and the girls have an overnight bag packed."

"Cancel the dinner party, Carol." Dave glares at her and swipes his keys up off the counter. "Or take them out to eat. I don't want to have dinner and pretend to still be your husband. Those days are over."

"No, David. You will do this for me. One last time." She calls after him, "I'm making your favorite."

He doesn't answer, just opens the door and finds you about to climb into the passenger seat of his car. Making him relax the second the door closes behind him.

"Hey," you say as he slides into the driver's seat. "Ready for breakfast?" You say offering him a small smile, as the girls chatter in the back to each other.

"And coffee." Dave rolls his eyes and turns the keys so the engine turns over. "Lots of coffee. How do you feel?"

"Sore," you say, just loud enough for him to hear, "But really good. What about you?"

"I'm good. Really good." Dave reaches over and squeezes your fingers after he backs out of the driveway and puts the car in drive.

"Good," you say, before bringing his hand up to your lips. "So, what's the big plan for today?"

"Girls are being picked up at 5." He rolls his eyes. "Someone has planned a dinner party tonight with friends. All our friends.”

"Oh," you say, with a raised eyebrow, "That sounds... fun. I take it that I need to make myself scarce?"

"She wanted you to leave the house completely but that's not happening." He promises you.

"I can keep myself busy downstairs," you say with a smirk, "Plenty of things to keep me entertained." 

"I'm sure you can." He chuckles quietly. "Make sure you have it charged. But it's not going to be better than me.

"It's already charged," you say with a giggle, "Pretty sure of yourself there, Mr York."

"So you are saying that I should just leave you alone?" He asks. "You don't want to do that again?'

"No," you answer a little too quickly, "I definitely want to do it again. I was just joking with you."

"I know." You probably don't get that his sense of teasing is a little dry. Or maybe he's lost his touch from the years of just dealing with Carol. His eyes slide from the road over to you and he smirks. "I was joking too." 

"Good," you say as he pulls up to the drive-thru. "Don't worry, I'll try not to have too much fun without you.”

"Girls, what donuts do you want?" He asks, twisting around in his seat to look back at them.

"Sprinkle,” they both shout in perfect unison, making you giggle, as you look at him grinning at his babies.

"Sprinkles and chocolate milk, I'm assuming?" He asks, making them nod so hard it's hard to not believe their brains are rattling around.

"You're wrapped right around their little fingers," you say with another giggle. "Super daddy."

"It's not hard to be." He counters. "Look at them."

"Yeah, they're adorable." Looking back at their grinning faces. Dave whittles off the order and drives up to the window to collect. You keep the treats bagged up on your lap as he drives to the park for you to find a picnic table to eat at.

"You monkeys can go play while we get everything ready." Dave winks at them as they cheer and shoot off towards the swings as soon as they are out of the car.

You carry the food and set it up on a table as Dave gets the bag of wet wipes and essentials from the trunk. "Hungry?" You ask with a wink as he walks over to you.

"Starving." Dave huffs. "Someone make me work out." He teases, smirking slightly. "Shoulda gotta a midnight snack when Alice woke up."

You giggle as you pass him the ham and cheese croissant he ordered, before looking over at the girls. "Should we let them play a bit before calling them back over? They seem happy."

"Yeah." Dave nods. "I want them to enjoy today. Yesterday sucked, so today needs to be a good memory for them."

"Best Daddy ever," you say before taking a bite of your food, "How are you feeling about tonight?"

"Annoyed." Dave grunts, shaking his head. "Although I'm going to use it to my advantage."

"Sounds like you have a plan," you say with a raised eyebrow.

The sound of rushed footsteps coming towards you makes you swing your head around, and before you know it Alice is on your lap and Molly is on Dave's. "Donut time," you say before handing them both their food and chocolate milk whilst watching Dave interact with his babies. 

He listens as Molly chatters happily between bites of her donut, shoveling it down as fast as she can between gulps of milk. So far they seem to be coping with the news far better than yesterday.

"Are you guys excited to spend the night with Grandma?" You ask as you play with Alice's hair.

"No." Alice frowns slightly and shakes her head. "It's only because mommy wants to have 'adult time.’" She huffs.

"Aw, baby," you say as you pepper a kiss on her head, "But I'm sure you'll have a great time. Grandma will take you to school in the morning and I'll be there to pick you up ready for dance."

"Promise?" She asks pitifully, pouting at you with the same intense look that Dave has at times.

"Promise." You say before booping her nose.

"Okaaaaaay." She manages to huff dramatically and giggle all at the same time.

The rest of the morning is spent chasing them around the park, watching Dave immediately cave when they ask for ice cream and Alice screaming after scraping her knee on the sidewalk and insisting that Dave carry her back to the car.

You unload the car as he takes them in the house, making them both a quick lunch and setting them up on the kitchen table to do homework before their grandma picks them up. "I’ll pack them each a bag," you tell Dave as he helps Molly with her homework

"Thank you." Dave knows that it's your job, but it's always a huge help when you anticipate their needs.

Their grandma arrives at 5 on the dot. You hand her their bags and once they've said goodbye to Dave you give them both a hug and kiss and promise to pick them up after school the next day.

With Carol still not back and Dave reluctant to set the table, you do it for him. Making sure everything is perfect so that Carol doesn't complain, before ordering yourself a delivery of Chinese food ready for your evening downstairs.

“I don't know why she's planning this." Dave grumbles to you as he puts away the extra dinnerware. "But it will be good to get everything out in the open."

You walk up behind him and wrap your arms around him, lightly resting your head on his shoulder. "Just try not to let her bring you down.”

"I won't let her." He promises quietly.

"Good," you say, unwrapping your arms from him. "Is there anything else I can do before she gets back?"

"Nothing, baby." He shoots you a small smirk. "Just enjoy your takeout. Carol's cooking sucks.”

"Lucky guests," you say with a laugh, having cooked every night since beginning your employment. "Focus on how nice it'll be to see your friends... and think about how much fun I'll be having in the basement." 

He rolls his eyes and huffs at you. "Not too much fun or I won't fuck you tonight."

"Might not need you to," you say with a wink, as you hurry off to open the door.

You open the door to your food and tip the delivery driver, watching as Carol's car pulls into the drive. You thank him as quickly as you can before going back inside to wish Dave a good evening before sneaking off downstairs and out of Carol's firing line.

"I thought the little bitch was going to leave." Carol hisses, bringing bags into the house. Dave rolls his eyes, noticing that at least she had decided to buy pre-made food. No one in the house will get food poisoning. "Never agreed to that." He reminds her.

"She better spend the entire evening down there, David," she hisses, "Or help me God, she'll regret it."

He rolls his eyes again and decides that it's better to not say anything. The sooner this party is started, the sooner it can be over and that's all he wants.

****

Laughter echoes through the house, as the guests eat and chatter. You have demolished your Chinese food and settled on a random Netflix movie. You wonder if he's having a good time. It's been over an hour since they started to arrive and it seems to be going well from what you can hear.

Dave's smile is forced and he stares at Carol in complete disbelief as she pretends that this is just a normal night with the other three couples that are in attendance. "Carol, I was so surprised that you invited us over." Teresa hums, taking a sip of her wine. "A Sunday dinner is so spontaneous."

"Just thought it would be nice for us all to spend some time together," Carol says before reaching over and squeezing Dave's hand, "It's nice to see everyone one isn't it, honey?"

"It's perfect." Dave flips his hand over and takes his wife's before he looks back at the people that she invited over. "That way we can tell everyone at once.”

"Dave-"

"Carol and I are divorcing." He announces, ignoring her attempt to deflect.

The fake laughter that falls from her lips convinces no one, as she snatches her hand away. "Thank you for ruining the evening, David." She says before clearing her throat, "It's not definite," she says to her guests, shaking her head at Dave before he can correct her. "Let's just enjoy dinner, and time with friends."

"It's definite." Dave corrects after she attempts to salvage the evening. "She's been fucking her private trainer. Then decided she wanted a divorce and now that she's realized she's not taking me to the cleaners, she wants to reconcile." 

The gasps that come from the shocked dinner guests make Carol's face burn red with anger, "Heh. The reason I was pushed into the arms of my trainer is because David kept looking at the nanny like he wanted to devour her."

"Oh bullshit." Dave rolls his eyes and pulls his hand away from hers. "You've been fucking Scott for nearly eight months. The nanny has worked for us for six."

"Are you happy?" She yells across the table at Dave, "You've ruined the night and upset all of our guests."

"Yep." Dave chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. "Oh -Scott gave you chlamydia or you gave him it- I don't know." He looks at the other couples. "She's got the clap."

"Jesus," Rob chokes. "Maybe we should -uh- just finish up dinner and keep the conversation a little lighter. It's sad you're divorcing and all, but look at me and Trish... doesn't have to be bad."

"I don’t have chlamydia, you lying, spiteful asshole." Carol spits across the table at Dave, ignoring what Rob has just said..

Dave snorts, narrowing his eyes at his wife. "Then explain why I had to get treated when I didn't cheat?" He demands.

"So you claim." She snarls back at him, before finishing off her glass of wine.

****

In bed you're unaware of the commotion upstairs, the sound of your TV is drowning out the yelling and you decide to check in on Dave. Typing out a text but changing your mind before hitting send. Instead jumping out of bed and pulling on your favorite pink lingerie set that you've never worn for anyone but yourself and snapping a photo.

Thinking about you. You caption the photo before hitting send. 

Dave's phone buzzes in his pocket before he just shrugs as if it isn't his concern. "It's why I stopped fucking you." He picks up his glass. "Anyway. How are the kids, Rob?"

"Bullshit," Carol says before bursting into the most hysterical sobs Dave had ever seen. 

"Good, thanks," he says before taking a bite of his food, clearly in utter disbelief at what’s happening, "Where's Molly & Alice?"

Carol is dragged away from the table by Trish and Teresa, still continuing to sob uncontrollably.

****

A few minutes pass and Dave still hasn't replied to your photo and with boredom getting the better of you, you decide to take another pic. This time rolling down your panties and taking a shot of your glistening pussy.

Haven't touched myself... This is just from thinking about you.

****

The phone buzzes again and this time Dave pulls it out of his pocket. "The girls are with their grandmother." He explains as he glances down and pauses talking, completely forgetting what he was going to say.

"Good," Rob says with a chuckle, "Better than hearing that conversation." He asks a few questions and waits patiently for Dave to answer, the other guests chattering uncomfortably amongst themselves as Dave takes a large gulp of his beer.

*****

The delivered changes to read and your smirk to yourself before deciding to take it one step further. Sending a very brief and silent video of your finger lightly circling your clit. You like what you see?

"Fuck." The phone immediately opens the video and Dave clears his throat. "Yeah- uh, it's not been a nice few days." He tells Rob as he types out a reply. I do. But you are teasing me. Be careful.

Or what? You type back with another picture. This time of your bare tits.

****

"Should we go?" Mike asks, after staying silent since the outburst. "Clearly you have some things to talk about."

"Nothing to talk about." Dave assures him. "We signed the agreement yesterday and are now just waiting to get it signed by the judge.”

"Seems like she's regretting it," he remarks with a shrug of his shoulders.

****

You huff as he leaves your last message unanswered, before leaning over and pulling your wand out of the bedside drawer. Switching it on to its lowest setting, you wince a little as you place it against your clit, snapping and sending one last picture before turning it up. 

"Doesn't matter." Dave glances back down at his lap as the next text dings through. "Shit." He hisses, eyes focused on your picture. The wand is against your clit and he knows you are moaning right now. Do you want me to spank you? He sends the message quickly and looks up at Mike. "I don't tolerate cheating."

I want you to spank me. You type out between breathy moans. I need you Dave. Fuck. I'd let you fuck me over the table in front of everyone.

****

"Fair enough," Mike says, before silence falls across the room again, apart from the sound of cutlery scraping plates and beer being chugged. "I'm sorry it came to this.”

"It is what it is." Dave murmurs, his cock jumping at the latest message from you. I bet you would. But I wouldn't fuck you in front of them. Only I get to see that.

He looks back up. "All I care about is Alice and Molly being alright."

" l just hope you two can find some common ground." He says with another shrug, just before the ladies come back into the room and take their seats. Carol picks up the dessert plates and pre-made dessert and places it down on the table before asking, "Who wants cheesecake?"

****

I need you. You type out as you feel your orgasm move closer. Fuck. Used to think about you every time I came. And now I know how good you feel, I need you so badly. I'm so close, baby. 

****

"She is staying in the house for the girls, so I hope so." Dave shakes his head at Carol. "None for me, thanks." He declines the dessert.

His cock twitches at your message, barely biting back a moan. The idea that you've thought of him while playing with yourself is extremely sexy. Behave. You'll have me.

"You love cheesecake, David," Carol says with a huff. But most of the guests decline dessert as well. The uncomfortable atmosphere makes the thought of eating difficult and they’d all rather just leave.

****

I want your mouth. I want you to eat my pussy and then shove your cock in my mouth after making me cum.

Push your fingers into your pussy. He orders you, wanting a picture of it.

"I do love cheesecake." Dave reminds his ex, ignoring that she's still calling him 'David' despite him hating it. It's all a power play. "But not the one with nuts on it."

Yes, sir. You text back before pulling the wand away, pushing two fingers into your soaking wet cunt and sending him a photo. Doesn't feel as good as you do.

****

"Don't eat the nuts then, honey," she says with a sugary sweet grin, before pouring herself another glass of wine.

"No need to keep up the pretense, dear." He looks up and levels a serious look at Carol. "Please. We need to co-parent and respect each other. But I am not in a relationship with you any longer."

"Fine, I'll just send our friends home and you can go fuck the nanny. Is that what you want?" She snarls back at him.

Dave looks around the table at all the uncomfortable faces. "They don't want to be here, Carol." He huffs.

"Because you couldn't let us have one nice evening," she says with a shake of her head, "Fine. Everyone can leave. Thank you for coming. I'm so sorry that David ruined the night."

"I told you not to have the dinner party." He doesn't regret telling them, he's not going to live a lie, but he does stand up and apologize for the evening.

They all murmur and look uncomfortably at each other before saying goodnight and thanking them both for dinner. Deciding it's best to just go ahead and leave and avoid seeing another uncomfortable argument play out.

Dave walks them to the door, leaving Carol fuming in the formal dining room. He has no intention of helping to clean up, not when he had been forced to endure this farce in the first place. "Good night." He offers quietly as they file out of the house. "Sorry about this.”

They all shuffle away quietly as Dave closes the door, ready to get home and forget about one of the most uncomfortable evenings of their life.

Turning back towards the house, Dave pulls the phone out of his pocket and reads your last text. Groaning out loud as he sees the sexy picture you sent. You cum yet? He demands.

No. You type back with a huff, I was waiting for my next command.

Good. Dave smirks slightly, imagining that you are frustrated and on edge. You deserve it after disgracing him during the dinner from hell.

Can I cum now? You text back, unsure how much longer it'll be until he gets to join you.

Carol is scoffing and shaking her head as he enters the kitchen, anger funneling through her as she gets ready to rage at him.

"Don't start with me." Dave is well used to that expression but he doesn't want to hear it. "I'm not going to put up with it."

"Did she fuck you as well as I do?" Carol says with a smirk, wanting to rile him up. "Bet she had no idea what to do with you.” 

"Wouldn't you like to know?" He shoots back and rolls his eyes. "There's a lock on my bedroom door. So don't bother trying to go in there."

"Yeah, I want to know." she says stepping in front of him, "Did her pussy feel as good as mine?"

"Better." Dave hums, amused by her attempts to waylay him.

"Bullshit," she huffs, "Why don't I remind you just how good mine is?"

"No thanks." Dave chuckles. "I wasn't joking. You need to get tested. Treated. You have an STD."

"Not funny, David." She snarls before giving up. "I bet she's not even interested in fucking you again, probably glad to be away from you.”

"No, it's not funny." Dave hisses, his face twisting into an angry scowl. "It wasn't funny when I was taking antibiotics to treat the shit you gave me." He decides to open his phone and show her the results from the doctor on the app his doctor uses. "Check the fucking date. It was when I stopped fucking you.”

"Fuck," she says, before stumbling backwards. "Why didn't you fucking tell me?"

"It's not my job to tell you that your little fuck toy gave you a fucking STD." He snarls, looking at her with disgust. "Even if I wanted you, I could never fucking trust you again. So I don't give a fuck if she-" he points towards basement door, "wants me or not. I don't want you.”

"You'll regret this, David." She says before grabbing her keys and storming out the house. Leaving the mess from the dinner party for Dave to deal with.

Dave rolls his eyes and follows her to the door, only to flip the lock. The mess can wait, and he wants to see you spread out.

****

You sigh as you watch your phone, waiting impatiently for a text back from Dave.

Turning off the lights, Dave opens the basement door and starts down the stairs. It's not dark or dank like most basements, it's completely finished. Biting his lip as he stands outside your little suite and knocks.

"Come in," you say after covering yourself, wanting him to rip the covers from you.

Opening the door, Dave steps inside and turns around to lock the door behind him. He had changed out your locks as well, wanting to make sure Carol didn't have access to your space. "What a fucking night."

Pushing yourself up onto your elbows, you see the strain on his face and you soften your expression. "Come here, baby."

"Are you sure you want me here?" He asks, wondering if Carol might have been right.

"Dave, I’ve been texting you photos of my pussy all night," you say with a giggle, "Even if you're not up to fuck, I want you here. I want you."

"Oh I'm up alright." He huffs, reaching down and adjusting his cock where he had tucked it behind his belt.

"The photos worked, huh?" You say as innocently as possible.

"You know they did." He grunts, shaking his head as he starts to methodically strip down.

"It's your fault, y'know? Got me hooked on you."

"It was just once." He defends, even though he is grinning. "That's all it takes?"

"Apparently so," you say with a shrug, "Not that I'm complaining... But I will be if you don't kiss me soon."

When he's fully stripped down, he wraps his hand around his cock. "I shouldn't kiss you. Just tease you like you teased me."

You bite down on your lip as you watch him take himself in his hand, giving his cock a few languid strokes. "I wasn't teasing, baby, I was just warming myself up for you.”

"Yeah? You aren't too sore?" He asks, wanting to make sure that you aren't pushing yourself because you think he wants sex. He's older than you, sex doesn't have to happen every day.

"I’m a little sore," you admit, "But I can take you... After you give me your mouth."

He snorts and shakes his head. "Already demanding oral every time." He tsks, as if he's disappointed. "Maybe I should just fuck your throat."

"Every time? I haven't had your mouth yet." You remind him with a tut. "I hope you like eating pussy though, York, because you're going to be doing it a lot."

"Oh l am, am I? " He likes your sassiness, the cockiness of your attitude. "Says who?"

"Me, you say as you pull him closer to you, "And I'll suck that gorgeous cock in return."

"Gorgeous cock, huh?" He smirks and looks down at the hefty cock in his hand. "I guess I should make you cum before I turn you into a Twinkie again, should I?"

"Gorgeous," you repeat with a smile, "Yes, sir, but kiss me first," you demand.

Kissing you isn't a burden. He very willingly climbs onto the bed and leans over, watching you before he presses his lips to yours

You hum happily against his lips, feeling the tension in his shoulders melt away as you wrap your arms around him. "Let's see how good that mouth really is," you say against his lips.

It's a challenge, he knows that from the curve of your lips when you look up at him so innocently. One that he is happy to take up. Moving down and biting one nipple just sharply enough to make you gasp out.

"Who's being a tease now?" You moan, as he drags his lips down your body.

"I couldn't send you photos." He hums, grinning up at you and winking. Pleasantly content with making sure that you find out exactly how talented he is with his tongue.

"You can next time." you say, "Give me something to look at whilst I play with my pussy.”

"You want me to send you photos of me jerking off?" He asks, inhaling the musky scent of your arousal and groaning.

"Yes," you say with a groan, "And videos of you cumming.

"You want to see me cum?" He asks, looking up at you.

"Fuck yes," you say, as you rock your hips up closer to his face.

"After you." He purrs, lowering his mouth to your cunt and licking a long, wet strip up your folds.

"Ooohh," you moan, as he starts to tease your clit with his tongue. Your fingers find purpose in his hair, tugging and pulling at it as he sucks and licks at your bundle of nerves. The sounds he makes are filthy, groaning and grunting as he eats your pussy with conviction.

Dave doesn't try to rush through it, but he makes sure that his tongue keeps moving. Running and circling your clit as he finds out what makes you whimper in pleasure. Finding your hips with his hands and holding on as he devours you.

His name falls from your tongue over and over, between the breathy moans and gasps of pleasure. "Never stop," you whisper, as your thighs begin to shake, "God, you're perfect.

He chuckles into your folds, your legs drawing up to frame his head with your thighs and he keeps sucking and licking. Digging his fingers into your skin and holding you in place so your hips don’t rock on their own.

"I’m gonna cum," you breathe out, as your thighs clamp down around his head. Your hips lifting off the bed and you gasp his name before white hot pleasure explodes behind your eyes.

Even as you try to squeeze his head as hard as you can and smother him in your cunt, he keeps working you over. Sucking your clit into his mouth, he pulls on it harshly to make it even better for you.

"Oh, Dave," you mumble, as you come down from your high, gently pushing his face away. "God, I'm going to be begging you to do that everyday."

He hums and there is a smug smirk on his face when he turns and wipes your juices in the inside of your thigh from his chin. "That good, baby?"

"I think I just fell in love," you say with a giggle, "That was incredible."

He chuckles and ducks his head down to lap at your clit once more just to hear you gasp.

"Dave," you gasp, before pulling on his hair again. "Tell me what you want me to do to you, baby.”

"Want you to ride me." He hums, pushing back up to his arms and hovering over you. "Sound good?"

"Yes," you say before capturing his lips with a bruising kiss, "You wanna film me riding you?"

"No." Dave shakes his head and frowns. "I want to keep it for myself." He groans when you wrap your hand around his cock. "I don't- l've never sent photos before." He admits quietly. His job doesn't allow for that kind of digital footprint and he didn't trust Carol. At least not subconsciously.

"Okay, baby," you say as you push him onto his back before straddling him. "You don't have to take pictures. Or film me. I just thought you might like something for those nights when you're working away."

"Maybe later." Dave glances up at you. "Have a photographic memory. I'll remember this.”

"Sorry, if I made you uncomfortable," you say as you lean down and kiss his lips. Before lifting your hips, ready for him to line himself up against your entrance.

"Baby, you don't make me uncomfortable." Dave shakes his head. "You make me- shiiiit-" he stops talking as you sink down on his length.

"Tell me," you say, as he stretches you. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip to suppress the pained moan. The stretch of him hurts so good.

"Hot." He pants out quietly, reaching for your hips again. "You make me fucking hot and horny." He slides his hands up to press against your back, pushing you down to his body so he can kiss you again. "Fucking turning me into a teenager again.”

"Yeah?" You say with a teasing grin, before gently rocking your hips, "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Anything." He grunts against your lips, twitching inside you.

"The first time we watched a movie alone together, I was touching myself under the blanket next to you. Wishing it was you touching me." You say as you move your hips a little faster, moaning as he slaps his hand against your ass.

"Shit." Dave groans. The first time you had been alone together, he wouldn't have cheated on Carol, but he had noticed how sexy you were. "Dirty."

"Was so scared you'd catch me," you moan, "But I couldn't help myself. I have thought about you every time I've masturbated since that night."

"Want to watch." He groans, rocking his hips up. "Jerk off while you play with your pussy."

"Yeah?" You grind your hips slowly, before biting down on his earlobe. "I'd love for you to cum all over this pussy. Mark my pretty little clit with your cum.”

"Fuck." He growls, clenching his jaw and slapping your ass again.

"Do you want to?" You ask before starting to bounce up and down on his cock, "Do you want to cover me with your cum?"

"Yessssss." He hisses as your pace starts to speed up and he watches your tits bounce. "Fuck yes."

"Want to be covered in it, I want to eat it," you admit, as your walls start to flutter around him.

It's filthy and yet you look so sweet when you confess that to him. Even as you are bouncing on his cock like a whore. "You will." He promises.

"Fill me up," you start to beg, as you start to clamp down around his cock. Loving the way he notches against heaven inside of you with every bounce.

He can tell that you are starting to cum, your pace faltering and you nearly collapse forward. Dave grunts and braces his feet in the mattress to start fucking up into your pliant, tight cunt.

"Oh, fuck," you whine as he overwhelms you, you grip on to his shoulders as tight as you can before coming undone. Your cunt spasming around him as you bury your face into the crook of his neck. 

He wraps his arms around you, chasing his own orgasm as he rocks you through yours. Keeping up the skin slapping pace for another minute before he is burying himself deep and groaning out your name loudly as he fills you up.

You wrap your arms around him as tightly as you can, letting silence fill the air as you both catch your breaths. It strikes you how comfortable you are, how comfortable you are with him. There's no awkwardness, no need to fill the silence as you let yourself lean closer to him.

"Fuck." He hums, stroking your back gently. "That was so good, baby."

"It was amazing," you whisper, "You are amazing. You are going to have to move me though," you giggle, "You've fucked me so good, that I don't think I can lift myself."

"Why don't you just sleep right here?" He chuckles. "You can ride my cock all night."

"Sounds perfect. Ride your cock all night and wake you up with your cock in my mouth."

"Don't be offended if it stops working." He jokes, winking at you. "I'm old."

You giggle at him before pressing a kiss to his lips, "You're not that old, baby. Let's get some sleep, and if you're a good boy, I'll make sure you have a very good morning.” 

It doesn't take long for you both to fall asleep, snuggled up tightly in his arms, breathing in perfect sync.

****

Glancing at the clock on your wall, you grin when you see the time. He's still snoozing soundly as you gently unwrap his arms from around you. Slowly you move down the bed and position yourself between his legs, careful enough not to wake him.

You gently take him in your hand, acknowledging that even flaccid he's still extremely impressive. You give him a few gentle squeezes and then place a few kisses on his tip, before taking him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around him and groaning quietly as he begins to harden. One hand gently squeezes the base of him, slowly running up and down the part that won't fit in your mouth.

A burst of pre-cum coats your tongue and the taste of him makes your pussy clench, you swallow around him before slowly bobbing your head up and down, grinning when you hear him groan loudly. You hollow your cheeks and suck a little harder, loving the noises that fall from his lips. 

It's been a long goddamn time since Dave has woken up to a blow job. A long time. His brow furrows and twitches while he is still asleep, being dragged from the confines of his sleep at the pressure of your tongue.

You pull off of him with a loud pop, "Good morning, baby," you mewl, before circling your tongue around his head and taking him back into your mouth.

"Shit." Dave rasps out, eyes fluttering shut again and his hand comes down to cup the back of your head. "What is this for?"

Pulling off him again you say with your sweetest smile, "Thought you deserved a treat," and then you run your tongue down his shaft, before wrapping your lips around one of his balls and start to softly suck, jerking him off at the same time. Humming happily as the hold on the back of your head slightly tightens as he pushes you down harder on his cock. 

You don't try to pull away, eagerly taking him deep and he hooks the sheet on his foot and drags it down further so he can see more of you. Watching as your mouth continues its assault on his cock and he groans again when you squeeze him.

Swallowing around him, you take in all of him. Your jaw aches from the stretch, but his groans spur you on and your nose nuzzles against the patch of hair at his base.

"So good baby." He grunts, rocking his hips up slightly. It's still early, he has time before he has to go get ready for work and you are enjoying this. Fuck knows he is. "Fuck, you love sucking my cock."

You hum in agreement, bobbing your head up and down again. Swirling your tongue around him and moaning in delight as he twitches on your tongue. Your pussy is dripping with arousal, the pleasure simply from giving him pleasure making you clench around nothing. 

"Come here." Dave knows he won't have time to get hard again, so he pays his chest. "Put your pussy on my face.”

"Nope," you say after letting him fall out your mouth with a groan, before looking up at him with an almost angelic smile, "I just want to suck your cock. You will eat my pussy over and over again tonight. Right now... I just want to feel you cum down my throat."

Dave frowns slightly, sure that you would have jumped at the opportunity to have your pussy licked. "I won't have time to fuck you before I have to get in the shower."

You roll your eyes before pulling off him again, "I just want to make it about you, baby, can I do that? Can I please look after the handsome man in my bed?"

"Okay." Dave nods, wondering if you really mean that. Leaning back and settling back on his arm so he can watch you better.

"Good boy," you mewl, before taking him back in your mouth. Loving how heavy he feels in your mouth and how stretched out your throat is. You're convinced you could cum by the sounds of his groans alone, your hands work his shaft as you suck and circle your tongue around his head. Desperate to taste and swallow every drop of his cum.

"Fuck, fuck." He moans, quietly calling out your name while you treat his cock like it's a magical fuck stick to be worshiped. He's not complaining, pulsing in your grip when you press your tongue to the head and keep him anchored in your mouth by the subtle pressure.

You hollow your cheeks around him and take him deep once again, feeling him push past your tonsils. The telltale pulsing and the way his balls begin to pull up let's you know he's close, and you moan happily around his length.

The first spurt of cum spits out like a geyser erupting. Shooting to the back of your throat and coating it as you gasp. Not because you are surprised, but because you are happy he's cumming. Making him hiss out your name again when the pressure around his cock just increases as you start to swallow him down.

He keeps a steady hand on the back of your head, as you swallow every last drop. Humming at the salty, musky taste of him. You could happily wake him up this way everyday, wanting nothing more than to worship his gorgeous cock.

When you finally pull off of him with a soft pop, he is panting. Nearly breathless from the orgasm you have gifted him with and the extreme pleasure and contentment that comes with the flood of endorphins.

"Was that a good way to wake up, baby?" you ask, before moving up the bed and snuggling up against his chest.

"Probably the best fucking way l've ever woken up." He presses his lips to your forehead and sighs. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," you giggle, "It's about time someone took care of you. I'm very happy that it's me."

Dave hums and smirks as he looks down at you. He agrees with that. He's happy that you are taking care of him, and in turn - he will do the same for you. You might be the nanny, but he doesn't care about cliches that might make him seem when it comes out that you are together. All that matters is that his girls love you and for the first time in a long time, Dave is happy. Carol had been wrong. The nanny does want him, and that means you get him.

[moonartemisia]

Through His Strings || Itoshi Rin × Fem!Reader Fic

(Itoshi Rin birthday special)

Tags: Hints of fluff, NSFW, smut, foodplay, edging, rough play, oral, fingering, mutual stimulation, protected sex, teasing, romance, age-gap, mentioned of Japanese words, character aged-up, rin will be around 19 in this story, reader is around 22 (if you don't like the story, you may kindly scroll away)

Note: This is a late entry for celebrating my boy's birthday. It ended in 2 months while having a writer's block

"Huh? You never celebrated Rin's birthday before?"

In a moment of shock, Anri realized as her fellow team manager and analysis exclaimed. You of 22, another hired of the blue lock facility, team manager, and soccer analysis, and long-time partner of the puppeteer egoist, Rin Itoshi — never had celebrated his birthday before.

Much to Anri's disbelief knowing Rin's deprived character, You managed to pull him into their relationship despite his first-time lover. Rin did eventually work with you very well, as you carefully understood him a lot.

Although, in this case, spending some quality time together with Rin off of the Blue Lock's facility. The two of you personally haven't celebrated Rin's birthday. Nothing is going about a reason as to why you never get to ask nor questions Rin.

You think as if Rin is too exclusive and has his personal space to celebrate his birthday. But you being Rin's girlfriend is something that you both should've enjoyed while it's his special day, of course.

You avoided Anri's eye contact at her, tilting your head lower, sighing;

"Well, for long — I can't clearly seem to think Rin wouldn't like celebrating his birthday, his parents never informed me when they're planning to. I guess you should say it is a personal matter that he doesn't get to feel enjoyment as much as before. If I put it that way?"

"(Y/n)... you're his girlfriend, even if you're unsure to plan for his birthday, maybe make an effort to surprise him? I bet without a doubt he will appreciate it. Not in a way he expresses — just showing how grateful that it feels to him wouldn't be nice?"

You xontemplated for a bit — to simply put it that way; you don't know where to start on surprising Rin. Especially not knowing his reasons but based upon his upbringing and his gloomy change. You deeply think it is a personal matter. Rin doesn't get to celebrate his birthday at all with anyone. Unless if you would change the course of events, you love him with all your heart after all.

"Okay, I'll give it a try. In fact, it's been like 4 years, to be precise. I never get to question Rin on why he isn't letting anyone celebrate his birthday."

Anri assured you with a smile, she responding—

"I'm pretty sure Rin will answer once you surprise him. It can't be that hard to plan a birthday party. Something simple is better than a grand venue for him or none at all. You are surprising how much you mean to him. Besides, you did your best to understand Rin. But, when was the last time you encountered Rin doing things on his birthday before?"

"The usual, he plays horror games or watches horror movies."

You flatly answers Anri to her reaction, her eyes questionably blinking at your words. The Rin Itoshi is definitely weird... he likes dark stuff?

"Ah— normally he does that, but I don't mind about it. I get to play horror games with Rin sometimes."

"I see... uh — but most importantly, you get to have quality time for him. Anyways, you better get going and plan something on his birthday. It's coming soon, Miharu!"

Nodding at Anri's encouragement. You thanked her for giving an idea upon Rin's upcoming birthday. Heading off planning what would be the best gift to give for Rin's birthday.

This is much harder than I thought. He is a soccer player, he loves horror and stuff... I don't know what to give him—!?

You're turbulent with the decisions you needed to decide in order to buy Rin's gift — as a reminding girlfriend is specific on the choices. However, you can not give him all of these to him... materialistic things are the ones you are bad at thinking of as a gift. Since the you already know his hobbies and what he likes or not. You are detailed of the things you know of him from heart, you have thought about a person whom you care, deeply.

Should I buy him new cleats? But I guess Rin already has a new pair... Residents of Evil Games he probably have all of the latest to the newest release... uhm, a language book? I know Rin can pick up some languages he is rather a fast learner, although he doesn't have any interest in reading. Plus, a soccer addict he is only focused on soccer — perhaps a soccer ball? Ah, this is so frustrating!!!

Out of the blue, suddenly you missed your balance while fixating your plans over what gift you should give to your boyfriend. A trip on the foot against your heel with a slight hit scratched down —

Oh shi—

"Careful there..."

You blinked. Surprisingly, your head was pressed over — a warm, soft, yet cold scent of ackwood fragrance. A familiar tall stature as you looked up, meeting your eyes on those gleaming shades of teal you recognized...

It's Itoshi Rin.

"R-rin—"

"Watch your step next time, (Y/n)... you almost fell down."

The breath of his stern voice swayed up tingling your spine. You can't take your eyes off of him as the youngest Itoshi gazed down at you into his arms tightly.

"T-thanks, Rin—"

"You're in a hurry, (Y/n). Is everything alright?"

Rin asked, still holding onto you, his girlfriend, keeping your bodies enclosed. You reassured with a nod before answering him.

"Just some errands I have to handle with, don't worry."

"I can help if there are any problems."

Although you reassured Rin, eventually you turned down his offered assistance. Hopefully, this won't question the birthday boy sooner, but you have to make up excuses not to spoil your plans. You smiled, shaking your head —

"No need! It's fine."

"Are you sure? I mean, I'm pretty free enough to—"

"I already said no worries, Rin! Sorry about that, but I have to rush. This is important. I'll probably get back to you when I'm free, okay?"

The tall Ace was puzzled by the way you dashed off. He has a hunch of whatever you're up to something. However, you don't really want to spoil such a special day; with that said, keeping search to head out and plan some simple decorations and a cake for Rin to blow later. One thing you could ever do to is you would do all the things for Rin's birthday to be perfect, as fine as you thought it would.

Rin may not be experiencing celebrating his birthday with just the two of you since the start. It's quite odd to think how you will convince Rin to come over. You made your way instead to initiate planning his birthday inside your flat.

It'll be awkward if I asked his parents to help out, right? I mean, Rin doesn't celebrate his birthday unless it is personal for a reason. Yet there's Sae— but that's another story for now... I wanna make him happy for once!

At the time, you managed to bring what you needed, a cake from your favorite cafe and cake shop. You carried a fruity shortcake that has the birthday greeting and chocolate syrup written his name in Kanji. Some simple birthday decorations to display, balloons, and strings, lastly... but that's those are the rest you bought yet the gift on the other hand isn't.

"Gosh, I'm going to text him... Probably, this would do for now, right?"

Well just here at my apartment is fine, but the gift... You sulked.

You settled to get your preparations done. The time passed half an hour to set simple decorations, and you placing the cake down at the center of your kotatsu. Huffing aside, standing to look at your set up, all the lights were hanging by the wall, and a bit of balloons were left below besides the sofa along with the pillows to compliment your display. And last but not the least, a birthday banner. You won't definitely go overboard about the display if you think of putting a cardboard cut out of Rin. That's too much of a birthday dedication you put setting these all for him. However, you're worried you don't have a gift to present right now. Such a waste of effort.

What really steps up is to surprise Rin for his special day — meaning to say his first special day with you. That's all it matters. Your lips perked a small smile, paying your efforts off while you waited for the perfect moment to call Rin.

Okay, that settles it. I should call him now...

You sighing to pick up his mobile number on dial. Patiently, Rin's number beeps through the phone before a silent click notified.

"(Y/n)?"

"Rin, hey there..."

"You good? Earlier, you were in a rush. I was asking what's bothering you a while there."

He seems concerned, judging by the tone of his voice that you couldn't help giggling.

"Ah, I'm sorry for that earlier, babe. There was nothing wrong lately, I promise you. How about this, I'd like you to come here at my place, I'll tell you why."

"Right now? I'm here outside at the bay. Why not here over the phone?" Rin quipped.

"Just come, I'll tell you. Are you not busy at the moment?"

The young Itoshi sounded a bit skeptical at your invitation. He doesn't seem to get it why.

"No, then I'll go over there at your place, just walking. I'm busy reminiscing my thoughts for a bit. You could've joined me to whatever you're doing with your errands. As much as I'm happy to assist you."

"No need, thank you, Rin. I'm fine and done. Alright, I'll be seeing you here, waiting."

"Okay..."

Through his windy, coarsed voice answering you back, Rin immediately turned off his phone. Walking towards his way through the busy streets nearing your apartment where there will be a special surprise awaiting. It didn't took long for the soccer ace to arrive at the apartment's main doorstep. Rin looked up; reaching for the knob — opening it. Soon as he went inside walking passing by the doors, Rin stopped. Appearing in front of the your room number with a press of a finger, ringing the door bell.

"(Y/n), it's me..." Rin called.

He peered over the windown hole of its door. Checking if his you're present, his bright teal eyes notices the unit looked dim — inspecting around through the hole.

Until a click coming from the entrance, Rin was curious as he opened the door slowly. When he faced the room, a pop of confetti burst right on the spot.

"Surprise, Rin! Happy birthday!" You said while holding the cake, already lit up before he came as you time his arrival.

His eyes dilated the moment you stormed to his way of surprise. Rin couldn't process what was happening, but his eyes windowed, feeling a warm greeting coming from you and the cake you're holding sparks his expression.

"You — I ... you remembered?" Rin stuttered for a moment, his head tilted up swooning his long bangs. You can tell to his reaction, he looks speechless and delighted by your special dedication.

"Yeah, of course! Why wouldn't I? Heh, happy birthday, baby."

"All for this? You shouldn't have to—"

"As much as I wanted your birthday to be special, Rin. Plus, it's our first celebration we had together as a couple. Enjoy your birthday here, alone."

He couldn't take how much you put everything for him. Rin knew that the two of you hadn't celebrated his birthday for years. It made the tall player feel a bit guilty for not letting you know amongst anyone who could celebrate his birthday. Rin never doubted how lonely it is to be, but birthdays are just normal days for him to just rejoice in a new age of this year. Now that he has you, everything has changed. The two of you went inside of your apartment, skipping the interlude.

Like a stubborn kid he is, Rin didn't make a wish as he blows the candle directly on his cake.

You frowned at his bluntness, brushing it off giggling. "Really? No wish?"

"Come on, it's my birthday... (Y/n), I won't waste any minutes in silence for a wish."

"I bet you have wishes you wanna make. Care to share?"

The young Itoshi whisked his eye contact away, quietly pondering his thoughts.

"One thing for sure... I wish to beat my brother just for the sake. I know he will recognize what I have... Complicated to mention as you know what I aim for."

You understood what he meant, solely for this purpose, to fulfill his dream of becoming a striker and in hopes for his brother’s recognizing downfall. This piqued your curiosity to ask him why you and him haven't celebrated his birthday. You sensed as a clue of thought towards the way Rin mentioned his past again.

You were aware of their brother rivalry ever since Rin explained it to you — a year, when the two of you are dating. Sae crushed his dreams that the brothers used to share. His older brother that Rin looks up to — betrayed their dreams over an unreasonable decision without knowing what could've cause Sae's light to fade into the darkness. Sae departed from Japan to Spain in order to be a striker; completely diminished as his shadows were. He chose a different path that made Rin puzzled, angered, and felt lost over him. Never did Sae open to his family about what had happened to him there as far as Sae lives on no longer to be a striker, but a known midfielder on the field.

"Rin, can I ask?"

"Hm?" His head bobbed at your side, looking at you.

"Why aren't you celebrating your birthday? Well, especially me? I know it's a tough and personal question for me to ask. Come to think of it that I'm your girlfriend who's willing to pay respect on whatever you want or decide. But if it's about how your upbringing led by Sae's change of heart. Then, I'll understand for sure."

Rin stayed silent for a moment, though your words stood up right. It was all for the sake he didn't want to face Sae after all that occurred. It frustrates him whenever his parents tried to convince Sae to come home from Spain just to celebrate and greet Rin. Keeping the broken brotherhood hidden from them. Rin, dully requesting his parents not to invite Sae as he makes up excuses, which started it all.

"I don't, I just don't want to celebrate it. Yet, every time my birthday comes, my parents always throw me a party along with niichan... howeber, things have changed, and I don't expect coming from him to say a word. Not even a bit."

"Rin..."

"Simple as I can put it... birthdays without him or so it's a normal day for me. But..."

He closely moved a few inches closer to you, his eyes deeply staring over your glimmering pupils that he can see himself through. The moment where he placed his hand on top of yours firmly. Rin isn't good with words openly. It's difficult to express what he wants to convey his emotions.

"You're here... and I'm happy with that, I thanked you for putting this for me."

Those soothing words of gratitude escaped his lips and felt a tingling music. Genuinely, Rin's eyes aren't showing any disappointment or dissatisfaction about a simple birthday until it pop you—

"Ah, sorry, I forgot that I don't have a gift for you."

Yeah, I have to remind him that

Rin didn't mind, shaking his head slightly, bringing himself closer to you. His left arm glided at your waist to go next to him. Pressing each side — eyeing as you look at his soft, alluring, gently eyes. You never seen Rin this soft. The birthday boy seems pleased.

"I never wanted a gift. Much more what I want is you..."

He replied as soon as he got to reach his cake using his finger. The white creamy frosting swiped through his slender finger, gazing at it before sucking it to taste.

"Not too sweet." He commented,

"Wanna try some?"

"Umm, sure."

Remaining his stern facade while using the same finger, he hooked another frosting from the cake. He brought it closely to your face.

"Here, suck it."

"But, I can get a plate—"

"No worries, it's clean. So, here, " as he assisted to let you lick his fingers clean, a lewd thought of your head distracted you when his finger was right in front of you with frosting coated on top. You were a little hesitant as if Rin isn't ick about this.

But, you dragged his wrist, holding it more, bringing his finger towards your lips. You slowly let your tongue out, proceeding to supple the coated frosting on Rin's finger. It tasted right, especially when it's on him. Delecting the right amount off sugary egg whites toppling your saliva, you opened your mouth a bit to suck his finger clean without a spick of cream on. There's a slight of fruity citrus lingered your sinuses coming from the fruity shortcake. Soon as you let go from sucking his finger connecting a strand of saliva through your gapped lips.

Rin was watching he didn't expect how this — mewl reaction the moment you sucked his fingers like a baby who needed milk from a mother. It instantly made the young Ace feel a knot on his stomach just by seeing the way you indulged his finger with cream on it. His ears reddened at the sight of you.

Cute...

"You're right... it taste good."

You said looking at Rin, your voice almost trembling as your lips numbed.

"I guess the cake would sit elsewhere than the plate would it?"

Before you could say a word, you noticed Rin got some naughty fingers right up onto his sleeves. Two fingers went to swipe another coating of frosting messing the cake in the process — smudging on your cheek, lips, and neck. A turmoil of conflicted excitement yet a turn on — alluding approach Rin had in his mind. With a slight pull over your body next to his, he came sealing his lips on yours deeply. Tasting the creamy frosting, the rest of it gotten a messy trail over the corners of your face. Rin is busy taking every sweetness he flicked the frosting on your lips, shoving his tongue inside your opening wet walls and tongue to play.

"H-hmmmph—"

It's afloat of addiction heating between the two of you savoring each other's tongue. This doesn't leave the soccer player to travel his wet muscle all over you, licking your cheeks that left with more frosting going down to your jawline. Such a delectable treat coming it seems the birthday boy enjoys. He paused for a bit, glancing at you.

"You know what? Fuck the unplanned gift..."

He pushes you onto the edge of the sofa, you meekly thud over the hardened cushion — Rin's hazy teal eyes suddenly speaks eagerness to devour you. Reaching his hand to caress and cup your cheek that stained his saliva.

"Guess that I have the perfect one to unwrap tonight."

Even a growl upon his lips snatched back again, his body hovering on top of you — taking his charge tasting his sweet little present under. He stopped halfway just to take a good look at your neck. His eyes locked over, where he covered the side with frosting. His hand dusted your strands of hair away to give a clear view on where he can place his dessert. The closer his goes, jaded with unbearable desire — implanting his kisses on your neck. Tilting your head aside giving him access to taste you.

"Hmm, R-rin..."

"Stay like that. You're so delicious."

A humming squirm escape through your lips that made the young Itoshi feel butterflies, the oozing excitement filled his explicit urges to unwrap you— his presentable sweet gift. As he resumes to give those sticky licks and nibbles through. He aches for your beautiful and ravaging figure, Rin can't get enough that your flesh blends well into the coated frosting he playfully painted you. He didn't care about your supposed gift. He wants you, and only you.

His fingers wiggled through the hem of your blouse teasing it, slightly pulling, tugging, and snakes down all the way by the buttons he brushed. While lapping your skin delicately than the cake you prepared for him to eat. You're far off better than that sweet treat leaving beside the kotatsu with smothering ruined frosting displayed. But what not having two desserts to enjoy won't hurt? You unraveled your eyes meeting his dark hair below before he could even unbuttoned you but stopped.

"(Y/n)..." He breathes under your neck.

"R-rin..."

"Move your blouse away, or I'll undo it."

You compile to his demand, and he sets aside to let you unbutton your blouse one by one on those circular pegs. However, the puppeteer striker can't hold his patience while watching you slowly undress yourself.

"Ugh, fuck it. You're too slow—"

Aggressively, Rin pushes you back to the sofa, your back laid down, taking full control to take off your garmet away from his sight as he pleads to. His hands went over to toggle it, undoing the buttons fast-paced — tearing the buttons almost ripping it apart. You watched — flustered at his needy urges. As he is close to completely unbuttoned your blouse that revealed your cleavage, your bra fully suppled the cupping breasts underneath. Rin noticed a frosting that left from his delectable licks stained down on your collarbone to the valley line of your chest. With his stern reaction, remains sneakily licked his lips that entices you. Never did you see Rin in his control like this. Nonetheless, you'll give the birthday boy what he truly wants. He presses himself down on you to take the mark on. It tickles your senses, heaving a moan upon his guard. Rin grunted a bit — even a mild view of your body could kill or broke himself. Just by how mesmerizing your body is to him.

"I would mind coating you more than just the frosting, (Y/n)... in fact I'd fucking go more than you pictured than a cake itself..."

It didn't make it long for Rin to tear down your blouse aside while hovering you close to his body. The heat tensed so much that you couldn't hold yourself — embracing Rin's head over to your chest tightly as he can to feel you. Finishing the part where his left hand took the deed — going to unclasp your bra behind, mastering his hand with a "ting" sound of the hook. Your eyes dilated that Rin's fingers managed to do that in one go. Now exposing those bouncing, suckable, lapping nips before his eyes. His subtle expression remains, but not his eyes leaving into temptation to eat you whole.

He gets another stroke of frosting to coat over your nipples. The sweet and touched fingers shivered you badly. He teases your nipples pinching them. Rin advantages this moment to see how tempting this would've been — breasts coated with frosting. The jaded emo stared, a hand slowly placed cupping your other breast peering below the meeking nip. Letting out his tongue to give a good sucking taste. You flinched —

"H-hmm—"

"Don't move, I'm just getting started..."

He replied intently focusing on sucking you. The sweet frosting invited his tastebuds turns him on. Rin never did such crude things to you over a food. Yet, it turns the hell out of the young Itoshi, murmuring how good you taste for him like a wolf munching his prey under. You're helpless — Rin toppled you in this mess for a special day turning into something steamy you didn't expect.

How juicy and perky your nipples glazed on his saliva, cleaned by his wet muscle that glided you electrical feelings you couldn't describe. Heavenly feeling, but lewd. Rin grunted once more as he continues to tease you switching to another breast sucking the left. Meanwhile his hands slide down to your pants, as if this is a difficult thing for the naughty puppeteer to get away with it. Just a few strokes under your denims — hurdling a moan. You can obviously sense his teasing are getting more aggressive and impatient. Although your pants are in the way, Rin growled annoyingly as he replaced his hand away — a thigh eagerly went to go in between yours rubbing it to get your clit some attention.

"R-rin wait— "

He didn't listen, Rin pauses looking up to you his bangs wavering his right eyes messily.

"This might take awhile..."

✧.*✧.*✧.*

All the minor teases and engaging of food that happened, the two of you couldn't get enough of this play. Rin had enough of the fun, things were about to hit real. He ordered for you to strip fully naked in front as you were sitting on the sofa — legs spread open. Rin was left in his usual cold expression but lies with devious schemes upon his sleeves. What a birthday blowout indeed for the young Itoshi to explore his inner desires after smudging lots of sticky frosting on top portion of your body. But, no it wasn't enough for him.

"Rin... I don't think I can spread it like this wide for you..." the mewling response coming from the shyness gut, Rin showed a sly smirk.

"Keep it that way... you ain't seen the rest of what I can do."

He nearly bends down to you, the cake was later ruined from all the taste testing, now for the fun part. Curiously Rin had a few frosting strokes to cover over your wet clit and slit gently through his fingers — you gasped.

"That's ahh... R-rin you're so dirty—"

As the lateral ignorance he pulled off, his eyes were glued onto your opening moist pussy. His fingers laid to play on them with frosting. Look how much of a treat you are.

"Perfect..."

Rin thought, you were concentrated over him blinking your eyes to watch his head go lower to your clit as he savors you. He flickered a tongue out to get the essence he wanted to smell — the smell that you belong to him, your beloved sex scent that alludes him deeply. You trembled under his touch, traveling your hand onto his head ruffling his dark hair. It encourages him to keep going as he eats you in absolute best. Whining and shaking on him. Your legs were stiffened trying to manage them wide open for Rin.

He was too busy eating your pussy down, but his hands grope your inner thighs for support, it relieved you as he goes. Still your hands are over his hair, moaning by his tongue play all over. He opened his mouth entering the sweet addiction brimming his tensions. You couldn't keep your legs open on one second as his hands were there assisting support.

"A-ahh... ahhh~ Rin, more—"

You cooed over, Rin definitely eats you good and feels you good down there. However, his lustful anticipation met with his crotch bulging over his pants. But that didn't matter at all for him to treat you first until he can order once more.

With a slick of his messy hair aside using his left hand away to brush a few strands, that send you off of the edge. You leaked juices onto his lapping mouth that Rin left without a single drop. He looks at you.

"You came badly, huh? I'm not done with you yet."

After a little tongue tease to your pussy his slender and long finger went to touch your slit first, a slow stroke of his finger shivered making you huffed another gasp of air — insatiable he does sinful things to your body completely aching for the young Itoshi below you.

You can feel your legs getting numb the longer he teases you, but Rin oh good Rin loves the sight of you being helpless against his grudges. His fingers went up to play and rub your clit melting you away.

"A-ah.... ahhh~ Rinrin—"

You purred, Rin's face came up closer, smirking.

"Beautiful response, that's what I love to hear..."

He keeps continuing to play that cute little nib of your pussy until you can't fully control yourself. With a mischief movement Rin does, adoring such sweet pleases coming from your cute voice. He lowered his strokes in — entering your walls through his brim. His long fingers feeling your clenching wet pussy leaking at your core.

"A-ahhh—! Ha— Rin please!"

"Please what, hm? You want this? I see what you're getting."

He pushes his fingers through, this time with force; going back and forth to feel the sore tightening walls. You tear a bit feeling the warmth below as Rin is focusing to make you loose yourself for him. Though at this point he'll have to save your orgasm for later —

"Don't cum until I say so, you hear that, baby? If you cum I'll make sure you won't be able to see lights tonight."

You meeked, crying over the river watching your pussy getting fingered by Rin's strokes over and over. Pleading to him as if you're chanting a prayer — helplessly oozing onto his command.

Rin enjoys this view and side of you getting weak so badly for him and he will keep you on the edge. Claiming that you are under his control. That you yearned for this moment belonging his touch. However, the growing grunts became erratic. Somehow looking at his own bulge through his pants — he won't be behaving at his own might doing finger fucking on you.

"Ah fuck this — "

He stopped halfway on meeting your orgasm, you almost left yourself feeling the urge to cum soon. But Rin demanded no.

You stared at the tall soccer player minding his own pants. He brought his fingers up to him mouth a bit licking your pre-cum. With a hint of smirk upon his face.

"Sweetest cake, dear..."

He turns over you leading his fingers to your lips poking it to have a taste of your own as well.

"Suck."

You obliged his request, lapping the tongue out of your mouth as you suck his fingers coated your cum — it taste like the cake from where he smudged all the way. Once that it has cleared, Rin intends to lower his pants, aching at the sight of his boxers showing his needy dick. Rin hissed by how hard it is, your arousal then arises by the view of his cock bulging visibly over his undergarment.

"Y-you need help? I can fix that...."

"Well, I don't mind a hand now, right? Be a good girl for me, stroke my cock while I finger you until I can fuck you any moment."

"Still not gonna let me cum?"

"Not until we both do."

Rin comes forward to your side of the sofa, he places himself; you volunteering to purr over as well. Slightly bringing your legs again wide open — little numb from earlier. You help Rin adjust his strap from his boxers away that jolts his cock out like a spring.

"Oh..." you gulped

"As if you've never seen my cock in ages, (Y/n)..." Rin commented hissing how it throbs out in front of you, chuckling.

"H-hurry... hand me."

You nodded, back in position this time — fingers are over again your walls gently. Rin's cock twitching by your hand those feathering strokes entices him so much that his head went up against the leaning cushion causing him to groan.

"Hnngh... ahh, (Y/n)..."

"R-rin..."

A playful interactions of you both, one's hand slowly rubbing his exciting friend for an invitation later while he fucks your pussy using his fingers that spreads you into milky heaven already sends you two into ravishing ecstasy. You couldn't help how hot it is — a teamwork better than how Rin could see in his soccer game.

"(Y/n)... don't stroke it faster. Let it be ah—"

Rin wants to keep this orgasm for the real fun part. But you couldn't help it as his dick craves for you wet muscles and mouth inside.

He sighed, taking your fingers out sensing you're about to cum for a moment.

"You bend over, come on... suck my cock."

"Okay..."

Bluntly Rin commands you bringing your mouth on his needy cock for a good head. A birthday boy giving so many requests on his special day indeed, it wouldn't mind you. You're feeling the similar arousal around his grip. You sat down on the floor meeting his cock as it twitches before your pleasing eyes. Your throat lumping needing to take this up a notch for some good dick. You placed your hand once more on his rod, Rin patiently looks at you as your eagerness to relief him makes your gut knot hard.

While your hand does the job, leaning your head on the tip slowly tasting his succulent pre-cum on the weehole that tingles you. Goosebumps left your body tasting his glucose fluids — Rin can't stand how good that felt. Hitching his breath under you, his hand moving towards your hair rubbing you as you bobbed your head a bit up and down for you to suckle his milky pre-cum.

"H-hey... don't — not so fast..."

The young Itoshi grunted, looking down at your bended figure pleasing his dick. Your eyes were intently gagged onto his hardening cock. Rin could feel he is about to cum any moment.

"(Y/n)... didn't I say not to make me cum just yet? You naughty Missy..."

He brought up his hand through your locks, encircling his hand around your head. He gripped a few strands forcing you to stop sucking his cock as you meet his lustful teal eyes.

You cooed at this rough moment. Rin pulled your hair the way it makes you feel so submissive to him. His pre cum was painted onto the corners of your mouth which he expects so. But not purposely going to reach his limits just yet —

He stayed still onto the sofa before he slowly let's go of your hair. He gestured his palm, patting his thigh while he examined your nude figure so helplessly. Another order to be prompted —

"H-huh?"

"This will be going all night for us... but, go get me a pack of condom by the drawers — I bet you have one..."

You nodded to his complaint, simply getting what it seems to be protected from a wild session. Rin wanted to savor his special day with you until you couldn't seem to fully compromise yourself to the limit. As you brought the condom along in your hand before Rin gently snatched it away. He breaks a tear of the condom using his mouth.

To be added...

@moonartemisia 2023☆ | do not copy my works