#i too don’t know why i’m awake at this hour | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

imnez-daydreams · 1 day ago

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WOO yall know i reblogged every chapter of op's/amber's "the good in you" series with my ramblings so im so psyched to read this piece !!

"The elevator dinged. If he weren’t on the same floor as her, he’d be happy. He let her exit the elevator first and trailed slowly behind her. She waited for him so they could walk in tandem. He sighed, realizing he had no escape."

LOL not dex "special agent" "bullseye" not being able to escape reader's golden retriever energy.

"Now, he knew these weren’t therapy sessions, and if anything, he was the one giving her advice and information, but it was comforting to talk to her about his day. He found comfort in explaining his job duties and answering any curiosities she had. She was kind, probably the kindest thing in his life right now, and he needed that. He found it harder to sleep if she didn’t come by and spend an hour with him talking about his job."

ooo dex is starting to see reader as his north star i can feel it in my bonesss.

Something inside of him locked, or maybe, unlocked at the thought of her never coming home. The thought of her never sitting across from him at his kitchen table ever again. It unlocked a feeling he kept hidden away as best as he could, despite it being the most constant thing in his life. Feeling abandoned—left behind. Alone.

i like the usage of locked/unlocked. usually locked as in putting their guard up/becoming closed off is how people react and what i usually read, so it was interesting to see the flip side of reader unlocking those feelings inside dex instead.

“Yeah,” Dex nodded, meeting her eyes finally. She still looked as wide awake as ever, full of energy and positivity he wished he could emulate. Something compelled him to wrap his arms around her and bring her close in an embrace—so he did. He sighed in relief. “Don’t forget your charger again,” he said in her hair.

dex hugging reader !! i can just picture the imagery of him one hand around their waist/back and the other at the back of their head while his lips are near their head to say those words.

“Not if it’s too late for you.”

URGHH this reminds me so much of that "its rotten work, taking care of me" "not to me, not if its you".

"It was the first time he possibly found a new North Star. He hoped this one wouldn’t go out. "

i was right !! dex sees reader as his north star hehehe.

“It’s okay,” she looked at him, this well-trained and tough FBI agent who looked like he spent the last hour stressing over salted or hint of lime chips and ended up getting both. “It’s perfect. It’s exactly what I wanted.”

STOPP i was literally thinking during that whole shopping scene like dex cmon youve been on harder missions than this where you killed people, why are you acting like a blushing school girl when it comes to hanging out with reader. hes so silly.

"Dex held her gaze and felt something blooming slowly in his chest."

dex !! catching !! feelings !!! everybody stay calm !!!!

“What else do you want to know?”“We can save it for another time. You asked me here tonight because you wanted to get to know me,” she nudged his shoulder with hers, the first physical touch they’d shared all evening.

nudging shoulders is such a cute form of physical affection :(

“Dex,” she said his name, “we’ll have to find an event for us to go to and change that.” Dex smiled. He’d only consider it for her.

that "he'd only consider it for her" brought me back to the "the good in you" series where dex contemplates going out of his comfort zone to attend the gala for reader and icanteven wow guys can yall tell im soo normal about op's/amber's writing ???

“I’m sure you looked like one, too,” Dex said quietly. “Have you ever traveled outside the city?”

PRINCESS 😭😭 dex call reader princess right neow !!

“I let you come over every night to talk about my job because you wanted to,” Dex began to say, “but I also let it keep happening because it has kept me sane. Talking to you. Being with you…” he broke eye contact again. “You tell me I make you feel safe,” Dex spoke again. “You make me feel that way, too.” But when Dex says that she makes him feel safe, he doesn’t mean safe from the other people in the building or even New York City. She makes him feel safe from himself.

that last line. SOMEBODY SEDATE MEEEEE 😭😭. dex just wants to be good, to become better icanticanttt.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she shook her head. She placed her hand on Dex’s knee. Dex slowly brought his hand to cover hers. This was the first direct contact they’d ever had—holding hands. Dex looked at the image—studied how his hand fit perfectly on top of hers. He twisted his fingers so they intertwined. Without thinking, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. She let him. He kissed her knuckles again, then the back of her and, then her wrist, and soon Dex was peppering kisses all the way up the length of her arm, pushing her sleeve up.

kissing reader's knuckles ?? kissing the back of reader's hands ???? kissing reader's wrist ????? AAAAAAAAAAA. ok prince charming when is it my turn to get kis -gunshots-

"Dex furrowed his brows in disbelief. Here he was, afraid of the same thing, unknowing that she too shared the same fears. Dex would never stop talking to her after it’s done. She knows she’ll be attached to him after—little did she know that Dex would be infinitely more attached to her, for separate reasons. He may be taking her purity, but she’s giving him something worse: hopes that he may find newfound purity in himself."

awh man the idea that dex sees hope of finding purity in himself as something bad is breaking my heart. like he genuinely cannot fathom good being in his heart :((.

hey so this is my accurate reaction to the smut. all im gonna say is the constant consent checks had me swooning and also reminded me of the "the good in you" series where reader gets drunk and dex refuses to even go near her bed and haha guys im soooo chill about this writer's work.

this was SUCH a treat to read from start to finish !!! the blend of fluff, angst and smut was so nicely put together and flowed really well from one scene to another. thank you op/amber for feeding us cutie consent king dex and i look forward to reading the next chapter of "the good in you" series !! :DDD (take a shot everytime i mention the writer's other dex series but can you blame me its so good you should read it too)

The First Time

Pairing: Benjamin "Dex" Poindexter x Reader

Genre: FLUFF, angst, SMUTTTT 18+!!!!

Summary: Dex and his neighbor become good friends, so much so she only trusts him to take her virginity.

Based off this anon message

Note: I'M SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT BUT HERE IT IS I HOPE YOU GUYS LOVE IT

She’s the purest thing he’s ever known, and she lives right down the hall from him. Dex liked to keep his space neat and tidy; it was never dirty or out of order. He never allowed anyone into his space. Dex valued his privacy and, even more so, his alone time, despite feeling the lows of such often. Everything was a routine he had to strictly follow: wake up, shower, get ready for work, work, come home, be alone.

She ended up fitting into his routine, somehow. Only someone as pure and kind as she could find her way into Dex’s space--and so easily, too. She had recently graduated from New York University with a degree in forensic science and was living alone for the first time.

He’ll never forget when she started talking to him in the elevator, one rainy evening.

“What floor?” He asked her.

“6,” she replied. It was the same as his. Dex clicked the elevator button.

“You work for the FBI?” She couldn’t help but notice the large letters on the sleeve of his navy blue jacket. Dex typically took it off before going out in public, but that day’s mission had exhausted him so much, he forgot to.

“Yes,” Dex answered and shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t used to friendly conversation with strangers. It was natural for him to have his guard up.

“That’s cool,” she sighed. “I just graduated from NYU last year. I got a job at the 15th Precinct in their forensics department, but working for the FBI is a dream of mine. Do you like it?”

“It’s tough,” Dex said. “It pays the bills.”

The elevator dinged. If he weren’t on the same floor as her, he’d be happy. He let her exit the elevator first and trailed slowly behind her. She waited for him so they could walk in tandem. He sighed, realizing he had no escape.

“Do you mind if I come by sometime and ask you questions about your job? I’m new to the area—new to living here, and I’d like to know that I have a personal FBI agent to call a neighbor and—friend,” she smiled at him. Dex squinted his eyes slightly, amused by her outgoing personality and interest in his job. He wasn’t particularly a fan of being put on the spot like this, but seeing the way she looked so hopeful at him—who was he to say no?

“Sure.”

And that’s how she ended up sitting across from him at his kitchen table, notebook on her right side, a cup of decaf coffee on her left. It had been like this for a year now—like clockwork, she was at his door at 11 PM, sometimes even later (depending on when he came home from work) to talk about his day and ask questions about anything related to his job. Dex grew to look forward to these late-night conversations with her—it was oddly reminiscent of his meetings with Dr. Mercer.

Now, he knew these weren’t therapy sessions, and if anything, he was the one giving her advice and information, but it was comforting to talk to her about his day. He found comfort in explaining his job duties and answering any curiosities she had. She was kind, probably the kindest thing in his life right now, and he needed that. He found it harder to sleep if she didn’t come by and spend an hour with him talking about his job.

“Wow,” she breathed. “So when you guys detain whoever you need to, how soon does forensics show up to the scene?”

“They’re already on their way before we even lock the handcuffs,” Dex said. He watched as she scribbled something in her notebook. He only recently noticed how attracted he was to her—he only ever saw her at night, and she was always, more often than not, in her pajamas. He started to take notice of her rotation. Last week, she had light pink polka dot ones on. Tonight, she’s in a plain light blue set. Next was probably her black silk ones. It was always in her natural state that he saw her. No makeup, disheveled hair. Friendly smile. Curious and his favorite part, attentive, eyes.

He rarely ever saw her during the day. He was up at the crack of dawn going to the headquarters, and she was always in three hours later. She always came home before him, and when she’d hear Dex’s familiar knock on her door, she knew he was ready for their nightly catch-up.

Neighbors catching up…friends, like she said one time. That’s what they were, Dex supposed.

He didn’t think of this as an almost every night thing. After the first few nights, he let her into his apartment, Dex thought it was a done deal. On the fifth night, just as he was about to get in bed, he heard a knock at his door.

“I brought ice cream,” she was holding two tubs of Ben and Jerry’s in her hands, and squeezing her notebook under her arm. “Mint chocolate cookie or strawberry cheesecake.”

Dex grabbed the mint chocolate cookie from her grasp and let her inside with a tired smile.

He had also grown a bit protective over her as her neighbor.

He remembered one time he got home from work at 10:30 PM—earlier than usual. He knocked on her door three times—it was his signal that he was ready and home—but there was no answer on the other side of the door. Dex pressed his ear against it and listened for any movement or sound. Nothing. He checked his watch and saw it was nearly 11:00 PM. It wasn’t like her to not be home already.

He pulled out his phone and called her. It immediately went to voicemail.

Dex clicked his phone off and rested it on his lips. The increasing heaviness in his chest was something he only felt when he was on missions—he was anxious. Is she okay?

For the first time in his life, Dex didn’t want to be alone.

Dex was too numb to go back into his apartment. He pressed his back against the wall of the hallway and slid down to sit on the floor. He decided he would wait there until she came home.

After an hour of staring into nothing, but mentally replaying all the times he’s had someone leave him, the elevator doors dinged. Dex was too tired to look at who it was, too afraid of disappointment if it wasn’t her. He kept his eyes forward.

“Dex?” She started walking faster towards him. “Are you okay?” Dex whipped his head up and immediately stood up on his feet.

“Yeah,” Dex nodded, his voice feeling thick and dry. “I was—worried. About you. Your phone…”

“It died,” she explained. “And I forgot my charger. I ended up staying late to finish up some work. You waited for me here?” She asked with a hint of a smile on her face.

“I won’t,” she pulled back, suddenly catching on to the seriousness of his tone. “Rough day? Is it too late to talk in your apartment?”

“Not if it’s too late for you.”

It was strange, the effect she had on him. It only grew more intense after each night together. Dex watched her carefully now, across from his table. He couldn’t remember the lat time he let someone get close to him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had allowed himself to connect with someone since Dr. Mercer passed away. It was the first time he possibly found a new North Star. He hoped this one wouldn’t go out.

She brought a warmth to his apartment that it was lacking before. He never spent time at the kitchen table unless it was the morning and he was having his coffee before work. He never thought he’d spend most of his nights here, with her, talking about his day and duties as an FBI agent. She was part of his routine now. And if there’s anything about Dex, it’s that he doesn’t like when his routine is disrupted.

“Can I ask you something we haven’t talked about before?” She looked up from her notebook and placed her pen down on the table. Dex shrugged his shoulders. There wasn’t much he wouldn’ttell her at this point.

“Anything,” he said.

“Have you ever had to kill someone?”

It took a lot to catch Dex off guard. But this was a question he wasn’t expecting to be asked so blatantly.

“In the line of duty, obviously,” she followed up quickly, responding to his reaction.

Dex held her gaze—he didn’t want his answer to drive her away. In case it did, he wanted to memorize the way she was looking at him right now. The hopeful curiosity. The kindness without judgement in her eyes. He broke eye contact and sighed.

“Yes,” Dex said, rearranging the napkin holder in front of him.

“Because you had no choice?”

“Yes,” he lied.

She shook her head. Not in disapproval, but in disbelief. “I can’t imagine that. Do you—do you remember the first time you had to?”

Dex does remember his first time killing someone. But it wasn’t in the line of duty as an FBI agent. It wasn’t even when he served time in the army.

It was when he was a child and had dreams of becoming a baseball star. The memory flashed in Dex’s mind as quickly as the baseball ricocheted off the fence and hit Coach NAME in the head.

“I do,” Dex said. “It was a cartel member. We had the group where we wanted them, but one guy wouldn’t give up the fight. He grabbed for a weapon to shoot at my partner—Nadeem—but I got to him before he could do anything more.”

“And by got to him, you mean…”

“Mmhm,” Dex hummed. “Does that make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I know it’s not easy work. I know these things have to happen. But I wonder, are you okay? Knowing that that happened? And what you had to do?”

“I’m okay,” Dex said, and he wasn’t sure if it was a lie or not. “It was either him or Nadeem. They train you to think fast in those situations. You can’t waste time.”

“I’m really glad I chose the science side of it all.” She leaned back in his chair, and he liked how she made it look so casual. He wanted to mirror her but didn’t. “I don’t know if I could handle it like you do.”

“We make the mess,” Dex said, leaning forward. “Your side cleans it up.”

“That’s an interesting way to put it,” she replied. “Accurate.”

Dex sipped his coffee. “Anything else you’d like to know, Ms. Forensics?”

She smiled at the nickname. “I guess… out of personal curiosity… what did it feel like? Taking a life like that? Even if the guy was bad.”

Dex twisted the mug in his hands. Truthfully, it made no difference to him. But what would she want to hear?

“It’s hard,” Dex said. “Really hard. But these situations aren’t black and white. We have a job to do. We have to protect people. Protect our own. That’s what matters at the end of the day.”

“I see,” she said, nodding her head. “Do you have counselors at work you can talk to?”

“We have to undergo a psych-eval every once in a while.”

“That’s good,” she pressed her lips together. “Well, if the counselors aren’t always there for you, just know that I am, Dex.”

And there it was—that sweetness he had become so accustomed to. He couldn’t imagine his nights without it now. Dex smiled a little and focused his gaze on the table.

“It’s late,” she said after a few moments of silence. “I think I’ve run you dry for tonight. Got any plans this weekend?” She asked him this all the time, and Dex always had the same answer for her.

“No,” he said. “Catching up on sleep, maybe.”

“Me too,” she began to close her notebook and collect her pens, to Dex’s disappointment.

“You can come by tomorrow night,” Dex said with hope in his voice. “If you’re not busy and you feel like talking.”

She smiled a little and nodded her head. “I’d like that. Maybe instead of me asking about work, we can just hang?”

Dex took her empty coffee mug and wiped a coffee stain with the pad of his thumb. Her question echoed in his head.

“I’d like that,” he answered, meeting her tired eyes. “Maybe I can ask about your life and work for once.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t be getting much,” she laughed, and Dex hoped she was kidding. “But I’ll do my best to highlight the interesting parts.” She began her walk to his door, notebook in her hand. Dex unlocked it from behind her, gently brushing his arm against hers by mistake. He took a step back to give her space.

“Good night, Dex,” she whispered. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Good night,” he softly said back. He watched her as she walked halfway down the hall to her apartment. He always waited until she was inside and locked the door before going back and retreating to his bedroom. When she was, he closed his door and locked it. He was alone again.

◎◎◎

Dex wasn’t worried about having her over until the reality finally settled in and he realized that she would be coming over in a different context than usual. He couldn’t remember the last time he hosted something for someone and had food ready—this was possibly his first time ever. When he came home, early for a Friday night, he checked his fridge to see if he had any snacks and felt silly for it—of course, he had nothing, except a carton of milk and some eggs.

He went back out to the corner store and paused in the middle of the aisle. What did she like to eat? He only remembered the time she brought ice cream to his place. He went to the freezer and grabbed the same flavors of Ben and Jerry’s she had once brought: mint chocolate cookie and strawberry cheesecake. Dex balanced the two cartons in his hands and went through the chips aisle. He wasn’t sure what to get, and the options were overwhelming. He settled on a jar of salsa, French onion and guacamole—that way, she’d have more than one option. He also grabbed two kinds of chips: salted and hint of lime. He also threw in a container of chocolate chip cookies.

After leaving the store, he realized that she may be interested in drinking something. He wasn’t a drinker at all—alcohol didn’t mix well with his medication—so he didn’t have a clue of what she may like. Wine? Beer? He found himself inside the liquor store, even more overwhelmed by the options. When was the last time he was in a place like this?

He grabbed one bottle of red wine (Pinot Noir), one bottle of white wine (Sauvignon Blanc), and one bottle of rose for good measure. At the counter, he saw a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels and grabbed it.

Dex had his hands full on his way back to his apartment. He’d never had this much food in his house—the bags practically filled his counter. He laid every snack out but paused midway—they wouldn’t be sitting at his kitchen table. Maybe on the couch? Dex began to move all the snacks to the coffee table. He placed each dip in a bowl and had two more bowls filled with each type of chip he bought. He left the ice cream in the freezer. He put the chocolate-covered pretzels in a smaller bowl.

Then, he put each bottle of wine on the counter so that when she first walked in, she could choose. Dex finally sat down on his couch and checked the time. It was almost 10 PM. She should be home soon.

◎◎◎

His apartment felt cold and dark until she finally graced it with her presence. She was in her black silk pajamas, as Dex correctly predicted was next in her rotation. When she first walked inside Dex’s apartment and saw the line up of wine and snacks, she couldn’t help but smile at how endearing it all was, especially the hopeful look on Dex’s face as he watched her take it all in.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like,” Dex said, scratching his neck. “So I got a bit of everything.”

Dex sighed in relief. “I also got different wines you can choose from.”

She looked at each bottle. She was naturally inclined to reach for the red. But she wanted to make sure Dex had a say in the matter, too. “Which do you prefer?” She asked him.

He shook his head. “Oh, I don’t drink. I got that for you. All of it’s for you.”

“Well, if you’re not drinking, then I’m not either,” she said smiling. “I do want to dig into those chocolate-covered pretzels, though.”

“They’re for you,” Dex said.

She walked over to his couch, but Dex stayed standing by his kitchen table. He didn’t take a moment before to take in how different his apartment looked whenever she was in it. Before, everything looked as tidy as it needed to be: empty coffee table, couch lacking warmth, unused empty bowls. But she graced his apartment with her presence by making it feel comfortable. A couch is meant to be sat on, a coffee table meant to have snacks, and bowls meant to have food—just for her. He’s never seen his place so lively and it’s all because of her.

It was like watching a science experiment in real time. The cause and effect. The hypothesis and results. Except, he felt in the thick of the experiment and the results could be a wild card. He was just happy to witness it happening. How she was so good at making it all feel so comfortable. He liked having her around. Dex wanted her to stay a while.

“Well don’t be shy, Dex,” she patted the seat next to her on his couch. “Come stay a while.”

Dex laughed and made his way to his couch. He felt like a stranger in his own house. How should he delicately handle this new context of hanging out? He was used to her having a notebook and her doing the talking. He felt the pressure and was afraid he wouldn’t live up to expectations.

He sat down next to her—not too close. A comfortable distance. He reached for a salted chip and dipped in the guacamole first. During training, they taught agents to start conversations with witnesses or suspects casually. He felt he could apply those tactics here, with her.

“So,” Dex began, chewing his chip of guacamole, “first thing’s first. How was your day at work?”

Dex didn't know he had it in him, to curate and carry a conversation as long as he did with her. He asked her things about her life he didn’t know before—how she got into forensic science, where she’s from, who she used to be. She’s only 22—she’s got her whole life ahead of her, and she’s only getting started.

When she revealed her age, Dex was slightly taken aback. The thought never crossed his mind but now that he knew she was a bit younger than him, he felt that sense of protection he had over her grow in size. All those times she had come home late, he never knew she was vulnerable like that. Maybe it was wrong to think that way… she’s independent and lives on her own. She can take care of herself. But it doesn’t have to be that way.

Still, he had to know something.

“My age… you’re not uncomfortable?” Dex asked in a small voice, avoiding eye contact.

“No,” she shook her head. “Not unless you are.”

“I’m not,” Dex answered quickly. “It never crossed my mind to ask how old you were. I didn’t think there was that much of a difference.”

“Seven years is nothing,” she shrugged. Most of my coworkers are that or even more.”

“I just want you to be comfortable,” Dex admitted. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to be here.”

“I want to be here,” she said. “I like talking to you. You’ve told me a lot about the FBI. That’s not the only reason I like talking to you, though.”

“Why’s that?” Dex couldn’t help but ask.

“You’re nice to me,” she simply stated. “I got lucky that you’re my neighbor. I feel safe.”

“Even though you know my line of work isn’t always sunshine and daises—even though you know what I’ve done,” Dex said in a low voice, “You still feel safe?”

“You’ve given me no reason to think otherwise,” she said softly. “You’ve shown me one side of you. I’m shocked you haven’t figured out I’m trying to get to know all of you, Dex.”

Dex held her gaze and felt something blooming slowly in his chest. “What else do you want to know?”

“We can save it for another time. You asked me here tonight because you wanted to get to know me,” she nudged his shoulder with hers, the first physical touch they’d shared all evening.

��That’s right,” Dex said with a small nod.

“Your turn,” She said with a welcoming smile. Dex took a deep breath. Truthfully, he felt the basic questions had run dry. He knew all there was to know about her on the surface: how she got into forensic science, where she studied, where she’s from, where she works. When he was serving time in the army, the comrades he was with often sat in circles in their tents and started playing games like Never Have I Ever or Would You Rather? He didn’t want to play those games with her now, but he wanted to get to know her on a deeper level. Those games typically made people reveal things about themselves. If she felt so safe around him, Dex didn’t see any harm in asking more personal questions.

“Do you remember what your prom was like?” Dex asked with a sideways smile.

“My prom?” Her eyes lit up at the question to Dex’s relief. He nodded. “Oh my, gosh, well, yes. It was such a weird time for me. I actually didn’t have a date my junior year, but senior year I did. I was the worst prom date.”

Dex smiled, trying to live vicariously through her experiences. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

“It’s true. I had a crush on someone else so by the end, I ditched my prom date and went to a different party. But I had so much fun with my friends. I miss the freedom of being that young,” she smiled. “Good music, free food. Sneaking alcohol at the after party. What about you?”

Dex looked away from her and shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t go to prom. I didn’t technically have a prom.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. The institution Dex grew up in threw a makeshift prom for the seniors, but it didn’t have good music. It had free food that came from the cafeteria they ate at every day already. And absolutely no alcohol by any means. And Dex didn’t have a date. “I remember sneaking out to leave early and head back to my room.”

“Room?” She questioned.

“I grew up in a Boys’ Home,” Dex lied again. “They invited other homes for orphans but it was awkward. No one really knew anyone. I swore off events like that after that.”

“When’s the last time you went to an event?”

“Probably then.”

“Dex,” she said his name, “we’ll have to find an event for us to go to and change that.” Dex smiled. He’d only consider it for her.

“What color was your dress?” He asked her.

“White,” she said. “With a bunch of sparkles. My friends gave me shit about it, saying white was for weddings, but I didn’t care. I loved my dress. It was an off-shoulder dress. I felt like a princess.”

Dex tried to imagine it in his mind. White—fitting for her.

“I’m sure you looked like one, too,” Dex said quietly. “Have you ever traveled outside the city?”

“Of course,” she smiled again. “I’ve been for Orlando, Boston… the entire east coast, pretty much. Outside, I’ve been to London.”

“London,” Dex said impressed. “Did you like it?”

“I did but, it’s got nothing on New York. Where have you traveled?”

“I’ve only ever traveled for the army,” Dex answered. “Nowhere exciting. And definitely not for vacation.”

“We’ll use up your PTO days soon,” she nudged his knee with hers. Dex liked the hopefulness in her tone—the idea of what she was saying coming to fruition one day. And he liked that she said we.

“Do you remember your first heartbreak?” Dex asked her.

“Oh, Dex,” she sighed. “Who doesn’t? It happened recently in college. About around the time I was a freshman. Of course, I fell for a guy who was older than me. He had me in the palm of his hand for an entire year… until he graduated and dumped me like that. I was so head over heels for him, but it taught me a great lesson. Never put your life on hold for someone else.”

“That’s true,” Dex said. “I’m sorry he did that to you. That must’ve been hard.”

“It’s okay,” she shrugged. “I hardly think about it now, unless someone asks me. Do you remember yours?”

“Yeah,” Dex replied. “Like you said, who doesn’t?”

“What was it?”

“It’s not a typical heartbreak.”

“It’s all the same feeling.”

“I guess it would be when my parents died,” Dex said, meeting her eyes. “And then I was put in that home when I was a kid.”

“Dex, I’m sorry,” she whispered, scooting closer to Dex on the couch. His right leg was now resting against her left leg. She put her arm around his back and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Dex whispered back. “It was a long time ago. It made me capable of being on my own at an early age.”

“Do you have other family?” She asked, pulling back to look at him.

“No,” he shook his head. “It’s just me.”

“Well,” she said instantly, “now you’ve got me.”

Dex wanted to tell her that she couldn’t say things like that to him unless she really meant it. But he didn’t want to get serious about it all—didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“Do you remember your first kiss?” She asked him in a lighter voice. Dex laughed.

“Yes,” he nodded. “I had no idea what I was doing. It was awkward. And wet. You?”

She laughed against him. “I had a similar experience. It was so strange at first. I honestly hated it. I felt too young to kiss like that.”

“Yeah,” Dex nodded, trailing off, thinking of another question to ask her. He opened his mouth to say something, wondering if it may be too far, or treading a thin line of what boundaries they already had. Her leg was still pressed against his, but her hands were to herself now. “Do you remember… your first time?” He asked her.

Silence at first. So much silence that Dex had to look at her to make sure she was okay. Her eyes were focused in front of her, avoiding his. He’s never seen her like this—quiet, unsure. Dex wanted to rescind the question immediately and apologize for overstepping a boundary. But then, she gave him a small, ironic smile.

“No,” she answered, shaking her head. Dex thought of every possibility in his head that could make her not remember something like that—having sex for the first time—and each possibility raised concern in him until she finished her answer. “I haven’t had my first time yet.”

It was Dex’s turn to go silent. He looked at her expression—she was trying her hardest to keep an indifferent look, but Dex sensed a tinge of embarrassment from her, and even sadness. He wasn’t sure what surprised him more: that she was a virgin or that she was capable of emitting an emotion he knew all too well. He wanted to kick himself for triggering that emotion out of her.

“I’m sorry,” Dex squinted his eyes, “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “You’re not judging me, are you?”

Dex looked at her in disbelief. How could he judge a girl like her? Dex has killed people before—not in the line of duty. He’s used lethal force; he’s been abandoned. And she thinks that he would judge her over not having ever had sex? Dex felt hollow in his heart for a moment—that she thought for even a second he would ever judge her for something like that. She, who is so kind and sweet—pure—someone Dex is positive he isn’t worthy of having so close to him. She scares him in a lot of ways because of that. But somehow he’s earned her trust. No, there’s no world where Benjamin Poindexter judges her.

“Never,” he breathed out, moving so he was facing her. “I could never judge you for something like that. There’s no shame in it.”

“Sometimes I feel that way, that I haven’t experienced something so intimate before,” she said behind a sad smile. In a lot of ways, Dex hasn’t experienced something so intimate before either. Yes, he’s had sex—but the sex he’s had with partners never felt intimate. It just felt like sex. Soulless, empty, physical. He always felt emptier inside after.

“It’s okay,” Dex comforted her. “It’s not always intimate.”

“It’s not?” She asked him, furrowing her brows. “I don’t know. It seems intimate to me.”

“It is,” Dex nodded, “it can be. But it has to be with the right person. Otherwise, it’s just an act.”

“I don’t want it to be that way,” she admitted, breaking eye contact. “Just an act. I can’t—I’m too sensitive to just do it. It has to mean something. I think that’s why I’ve waited so long. Not because of religious reasons. I’m not waiting for marriage. I just want my first time to be intimate. I want my first time to mean something. I want it to be real. I’ve heard so many stories from my friends saying guys just leave them after they get what they want. I’m not strong enough for that.”

“I understand,” Dex said softly. “I get it. But please know I could never judge you for that. If you don’t judge me for not being pure.”

“Pure,” she laughed, “is that what you think I am now that you know that?”

“No,” Dex shook his head. “I knew you were pure from the moment I met you. I didn’t need to know anything else about you to know that.”

“Why do you say that?” She asked.

“Because,” Dex struggled to find the words. He looked at his hands, her knees, her curious expression. “You talked to me so easily that first night in the elevator. So open. I’m not—I’m not used to that. You were kind. I could tell you were a good person. I—I need that in my life, __,” he said, almost pleading like she was halfway out the door when she was still sitting on the couch next to him.

“I didn’t know you felt that way about me,” she whispered.

“I’d never want to do something to make you go away,” Dex continued. “I want you around,” he whispered. “I want you to stay.”

“Dex…”

He rolled her sleeve down and held her hand again, waiting for her directive. When she gave no protest, Dex moved her hair behind her and kissed her neck. She gently pushed his chest away from her, but only to look at him. His eyes were dark, full of intensity. She leaned in and closed the space between them, kissing Dex and Dex kissing her back. The moment their lips touched, they both knew it was long overdue. Dex placed his hands on her waist while she held him on his shoulders. His tongue made his way into her mouth and she welcomed it gladly. Dex squeezed her gently and pulled back, resting his forehead on hers, out of breath.

“When’s the last time you’ve had a kiss like that?” She asked. Both of them had soft laughs escape their lips.

“I think that was my first time,” Dex admitted against her lips, “my first time wanting to kiss someone like that.”

“I guess there’s a first time for everything,” she smiled.

Dex kissed her again, gently pressing her to lay down on his couch. She did so she was laying on her back, with Dex leaning over her. She pushed his chest away again, indicating she wanted to speak.

“Dex, I want you to be my first time,” she said.

“What?”

“I want you to take my virginity,” she told him. Dex pulled back completely now. He had to sit with what she was asking him. She leaned up again in concern. “I want it to be with you.”

“__,” he said her name, rubbing his eyes closed. As much as he wanted that, Dex wasn’t sure he was worthy. He wasn’t worthy to be in your presence alone—but to take that from you, the very thing that could change everything—he wasn’t sure he was worthy of that either. You were so good and so pure—to give him that responsibility is to give him the power to potentially ruin that. He couldn’t stand the thought of ruining something else that was so good in his life.

But if it wasn’t going to be him, it was going to be someone else. And the thought of someone else doing this to her—ruining her purity—cut him to the bone. As quickly as his attachment grew in his chest, jealousy did too, at the thought of someone else doing it to her.

Selfishly, he wants to be the one to taint her. Unselfishly, he doesn’t want to ruin what she is.

“You don’t want me,” she shook her head and bit her lip, avoiding eye contact.

“That’s not true,” Dex said. “I do want you.”

“Then why aren’t you saying yes? Why aren't you taking me right now?”

“Because like you said before,” Dex whispered, taking her hands again. “You want it to be special. You want it to mean something. Rushing into it on a spur of the moment thing won’t make it what it should be.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and Dex had never seen her so emotional. It made his heart hammer in his chest. He shifted so he sat closer to her. He kissed her forehead.

“I want you,” he reassured her. “But not right now. You should sleep on it. Really think if you want it to be me. I’d hate to ruin a perfect night by us jumping into it right away.”

She avoided looking at him, but deep down, she knew he was right.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I will.”

He kept looking at her until the look of worry faded from her face. All that was left was exhaustion in the form of half-closed eyes and soft breathing. Dex nudged her with his knee.

“What do you say we call it for tonight?” Dex asked. “It’s late.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “I should go.”

Dex walked her to her door. As she unlocked it, she turned around to say goodnight again, and as if on cue, Dex twisted her into his arms and gently pushed her against the wall of the hallway, kissing her deeply. He locked her there, between his arms, a leg separating hers. She placed her hands on his chest to steady herself. When he pulled back, he looked away, as if the mere sight of her would make him come completely undone.

Silence followed her into her apartment. Dex retreated back to his, and while she was no longer gracing it with her presence—he felt her everywhere.

◎◎◎

Dex sat at his kitchen counter. His mind was too clouded by his thoughts to focus on anything—his thoughts that were consumed by her. He didn’t realize that by giving her a choice in thinking about what they talked about, he was at the mercy of that decision.

If she ended up not wanting it to be with him, how would that change their relationship? Would she stop coming over? Worse—would she never speak to him again? Dex could’ve easily given her what she wanted in that moment, but at the same time, he didn’t want to ruin what they already had. What had easily landed in his lap without him having to do anything.

On the other hand, if she did still want it to be with him… well, where do they go from there? Not to mention that he would be the one to take that purity away from her—and not in the sense of virginity. But in the sense that someone like him, someone who has killed and is capable of doing much worse, gets to be inside her for the first time. He didn’t feel worthy to be in her presence like that, to be the one to alter her experience with intimacy forever. If she still wanted it to be with him, he would make sure it was special and intimate like she wanted it to be.

But he’s afraid that if this happens, he’ll never be able to let her go. It sounds wrong, but he would feel a sort of possession over her. He was protective over her already; after this, he would be downright territorial. His past lovers have all been with people before him…she would be the first he’d ever be with who hadn’t been touched before.

Touched. Dex felt a cramp in his hands thinking about touching her for the first time. He’d want to map her entire body out; take in how beautiful she looks completely naked. He’d be the first to see her like that. He hoped he’d be the last.

There was a knock at his door.

Dex paused before getting up. It could all change in this next moment. He wasn’t sure which he was hoping more for. He took a deep breath and walked to the door.

There she was in all her glory—her hair had brushed out, messy curls and was pushed to one side, like she had just nervously fixed her hair. She was in a new set of pajamas—pearlescent silk white. She met his eyes for a fleeting moment before looking down—Dex could still she still felt embarrassed, or ashamed. For whatever reason. It should be him who felt like that.

“It’s okay," Dex spoke first. “Whatever your decision is."

“I want it with you, Dex,” she looked up at him with worried eyes. “But if you don’t want it with me, then—“

“Come in,” Dex opened the door for her to step inside. She immediately stood in the middle of his living room as Dex shut and locked his door.

She was holding herself—arms around her stomach, avoiding eye contact. Dex wasn’t used to seeing her so unsure of herself; he was used to seeing her positive, confident, smiling. Looking at him with hopeful eyes. What did he have to do to calm her nerves?

“I want this with you,” Dex said softly, approaching her slowly. “I just want to make sure you truly want this with me.”

“I do,” she affirmed. “More than anything.”

Dex placed his hand on her cheek, studying her features before everything changes. She was right about something—sex is an intimate act. Sex changes things. He knows how it has changed things for him, but he’s not sure how it will change things for her. He wanted to remember what she looked like before the act—before he changed everything. He caressed her cheek with his thumb. He didn’t want her to feel worried. It was written all over her face.

“What are you scared of?” He asked her.

“It hurting,” she said meeting his eyes.

“I’m not going to lie to you,” Dex began, “it’ll hurt at first. But then it won’t. What else are you scared of?”

“Making a mess,” she broke eye contact again. “I may bleed.”

“Don’t worry,” Dex shook his head, whispering. “It’s not a mess you’ll have to clean up. Anything else?”

She bit her lip and met his eyes again. “I don’t want you to stop talking to me after it’s done. I don’t want us to do it, and then that being all that you wanted, and then you stop seeing me or hanging out with me.”

Dex furrowed his brows in disbelief. Here he was, afraid of the same thing, unknowing that she too shared the same fears. Dex would never stop talking to her after it’s done. She knows she’ll be attached to him after—little did she know that Dex would be infinitely more attached to her, for separate reasons. He may be taking her purity, but she’s giving him something worse: hopes that he may find newfound purity in himself.

“___,” he said her name, meeting her eyes. He caressed her cheek some more. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. Once this happens—it won’t be possible for me to let you go.”

She took a long shaky breath. “Okay, Dex. I trust you. I—I think I’m ready.”

Dex continued to caress her cheek as he held her gaze, witnessing her eyes soften in comfort—safety. Trust. “Okay,” he said. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

She blushed in the most adorable way. Avoided eye contact, bit her lip. She nodded. Dex placed two fingers under her chin to lift her to look at him. Dex slowly leaned down to meet her lips with his. And when they finally touched, she fell right into him.

Dex cupped her cheek in the palm of his hand, holding her steady in place as he kissed her. He teased her lips with her tongue, and she opened her mouth to let him in. He started off slowly…sweetly. When she took his hands and moved them to hold her waist, he took it as a sign to deepen the kiss. His tongue danced against hers as he practically inhaled her with kisses. His strong hands rested at either side of her waist.

They both pulled back out of breath. Dex leaned his forehead against hers, eyes closed.

“Let me lay you down,” Dex said in a low voice. She nodded against him and let him lead the way to his bedroom.

She sat at the foot of the bed in the center. She started to shake uncontrollably—from nerves, the AC in his room and from the reality of what was about to happen.

Dex knelt between her knees in front of her. He took her hand and held it in his. He kissed her knuckles and felt her shaking. He looked up at her.

“This is for you,” Dex reminded her. “It’s okay.”

“I’m just nervous,” she said. “I’ve never been completely naked in front of anyone.”

“I’ll ask you if I can do anything before I do it,” Dex said. “Is that okay?”

“Yes,” she nodded. She was taking deep breaths to calm her anxiety. Dex kissed her knuckles again. He placed both her hands on her legs.

“Can I touch your shoulders?” He asked.

She looked confused at first, but nodded anyway. Dex placed his hands on both her shoulders, softly caressing her with his thumbs. He moved his hands down both her arms slowly, feeling the softness of her silk pajamas. When he reached her hands, he held them both.

“Can I unbutton your shirt?”

“Yes,” she breathed softly.

Dex nodded and slowly started to unbutton her shirt one by one. He kept his focus on the buttons—nothing else—definitely not the goosebumps rising on her skin and definitely not at her hard nipples through the shirt. When he was done, only the center of her torso was exposed. She leaned back on her elbows and Dex leaned forward more between her legs, which were now spread a bit more.

Dex could see her heart pounding in her chest. He took right hand and kissed her knuckles. He met her eyes.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” Dex reassured her. She shook her head.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

Dex kissed her hand again. “Can I touch you?”

“Anywhere,” she said in a small voice.

Dex slowly began to trail his hand up the length of her torso, from her stomach to her collarbone. He slipped a few fingers under neath her shirt, dangerously close to her left breast. Dex looked at her once more for permission. All he needed was a small nod to let him know it was okay—and she did. Dex slowly traced his fingers over her breast, feeling her soft supple skin react to his touch—goosebumps, her nipple hard in the palm of his hand. Dex took a deep breath to control his own feelings of arousal—feeling her breast in his hand, realizing he was the first person to ever touch her like this. Dex squeezed her breast lightly and traced his pointer finger underneath her breast, feeling the curve of her soft skin. He pushed the shirt away, exposing her completely. He did the same thing on her other side with his other hand. He slid her shirt completely off and she closed her eyes, leaning fully back.

“You’re beautiful,” Dex whispered. “You’re soft and perfect.”

She opened her eyes. “Touch me more.”

Dex scooped her in his arms and lifted her further up his bed. He knelt between her on the bed and traced his hand on her stomach again. An intrusive thought crossed his mind—would she let him come inside her? Would she want to feel his seed that deeply inside her, knowing the risk? Dex felt his cock harden at the thought of coming inside her for her first time.

He took a deep breath and crossed the thought away. He placed both his hands on her breasts and gently squeezed them again. He leaned down and kissed the skin between her breasts. She closed her eyes in pleasure. Dex kept his hands on her waist and slowly kissed his way to her right breast, kissing it before taking her nipple in his mouth. He licked and sucked her hard nipple, gently wrapping his lips around it and starting a motion of licking and sucking. He swirled his tongue around her nipple and kissed her breast. He did the same thing on the other side.

“How did that feel?” He asked her.

“Good,” she answered in a breathy voice. “Really good.” She was still shaking. Dex was starting to love the idea of him making her shake like that.

“Good,” he said. Dex began to pepper kisses down the length of her torso, holding his hands on either side of her waist. She breathed deeply and pressed her head into his pillow, bracing herself for whatever was next. He played with the hem of her pajama pants and looked up at her with a slight sense of urgency.

“Can I take these off?” Dex asked.

“Yes,” she breathed, closing her eyes.

In one single slip, Dex took her pajama pants and underwear off, completely exposing her to him. Dex gazed at her sex which was slightly glistening from how wet she was, and then he noticed her slightly shaking again. He placed his hands on her thighs and kissed her on either side, trying to hold her steady.

“It’s okay,” Dex whispered. “Just tell me if you want to stop.”

“I don’t,” she said. “I’ll stop shaking soon.”

Dex secretly hoped she wouldn’t. He slowly slid his right hand over to her inner thigh and began to draw small circles. He slowly inched his way over to touch her pussy. He ever so gently placed the pad of his thumb on her clit, mimicking the small circles he just drew on her thigh before. She shivered at his touch and Dex watched her carefully. He mindlessly kept rubbing her clit as he watched her expression change from tense to relaxed.

“That feels really good,” she whispered.

“Let me know how this feels,” Dex said in a low voice. He slowly knelt between her legs, pushing them farther apart. He placed his entire mouth on her pussy and began to lap slowly at her slick folds. He started from the bottom and licked slowly up to her clit.

“Oh,” she moaned in a slightly pitched voice. Her legs shifted against Dex’s head, which was welcomed. Dex continued to lap at her wetness, completely putting his entire mouth on her sex. He pulled back momentarily to insert one finger in her tight pussy. She gasped at the tension, grabbing onto the fitted sheets. Dex reached his other hand up and took her hand, indicating that she could hold onto him. He pulled his finger and met his lips to her pussy again, this time moving his tongue around faster than before. His lips were locked on her wetness, and he began to feel himself get lost in the way she felt against his mouth, like this was his last meal on earth. She squirmed against his face, breathing deeply. She reached to pull on his hair to channel how he was making her feel. His hand gripped her thigh while the other held onto her ankle.

Dex focused his sucking on her clit and he paid mind to how she was breathing—he didn’t want her to come yet. Her eyes were closed, mouth half open, brows furrowed together. With his lips still on her pussy, Dex looked up at her and locked eyes for a moment with her before she closed them again and sighed into his pillow. He took one last lap at her wetness before pulling back and kissing both of her inner thighs.

“Dex…”

“You okay?” He licked his lips.

She only nodded, slightly disappointed by how cold she felt now that he wasn’t touching her. Dex could sense she wanted more. He could sense she was ready. He took off his shirt and pants, exposing himself to her. He couldn’t remember the last time he was bare in front of someone, but he didn’t care—all those times before didn’t matter. Only now did.

His cock was hard, pre-cum leaking at the tip. Dex was slightly surprised that she reached down to touch him, gently running her thumb over his tip. He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. He placed his hands under the small of her back and lifted her up his bed, so she lay perfectly in the middle. He was hovering over her now—his cock dangerously close to her wetness, but not touching. They looked at each other for a moment, Dex looking deeply into her eyes—he couldn’t tell what she felt. Fear, anticipation, aroused? A mix of all three, he supposed. Because it’s exactly how he felt, too. Knowing that after this, their entire dynamic would change. For better or worse.

She spread her legs wider and placed her hands on his face. Dex leaned down and kissed her gently.

“You still want this?” He asked her.

“Yes.” She swallowed hard. “Please be gentle.”

“I will,” Dex nodded, his hot breath hitting her skin. He pushed a strand of hair away from her flushed face. He kissed her between her eyebrows.

Dex slowly lined up his cock at her entrance and rubbed his tip against her folds, getting himself wet with her pussy. He took a deep breath and clenched his jaw. Her eyes were closed, but he watched her as he ever so slowly tried to push himself inside her. He was too big for her to enter easily, and she was too tight for him to go any harder. She said gentle, and that’s exactly what he did. She took a sharp intake of breath and her heart was beating hard against her chest. Dex could sense her anxiety and kissed her forehead again as he tried to push himself inside her more. Slowly, inch by inch, he pushed himself inside her tight pussy, and in one quick thrust, Dex was completely inside her. They both reacted in their own way—Dex letting out the deepest sigh he’s ever taken, and her gasping for air from the pain.

“Dex, Dex,” she whispered in a slight panic.

“Shh,” Dex was trying to keep himself focused but it was hard to while he felt her tight pussy completely encase him while at the same time soften her worries. “It’ll get better. I’m going to go back and forth.”

She nodded and kept her eyes shut, a pained expression on her face. Dex felt incredible inside her, but this wasn’t about him. It was all for her.

He slowly pulled out, and she could feel the difference immediately. He felt so big inside her that when he almost pulled out, she felt so empty—she needed to feel him like that all the time. Close, inside, tangled up with her softness.

When he pushed back in, he couldn’t help the moan that slipped out of his lips. She was shaking, and her shaking at his cock inside her, ignited something primal in him. He was the first person to ever feel her like this and make her feel this way, and that thought alone spurred Dex on to keep thrusting inside her. She was completely soaking and he could feel her start to mold to his cock.

“Dex,” she whispered his name, “it’s starting to feel different.”

“How?” He uttered out while he still slowly went back and forth inside her.

“Good,” she opened her eyes finally and met his dark ones. “Really good. I—“

“You want more?” Dex asked, and it was his turn to close his eyes.

“I want more,” she nodded.

Dex wasted no time in speeding up his thrusts inside her. He went even deeper, feeling the tip of his cock touch the back of her cervix. He was imprinting his size on her. She knew she would feel him for days after. She felt so velvety, soft, wet and tight around his cock, Dex’s mouth was half open and his eyes were closed as he continued to thrust inside her.

“More, Dex,” she sighed.

His arms were under her, and hers were around his shoulders. Dex kept one arm under her and held onto his bed frame to get a better angle at fucking her, because now that’s what they were doing. Dex pounded inside her tight pussy, wetness and possibly blood coating both of them and his sheets. He watched her as she closed her eyes, mouth half open, as he continued to fuck her into being all his. He didn’t know what he liked more—being inside her or watching how much she enjoyed him being inside her. She fluttered her eyes open for a moment, meeting his, and Dex instantly closed his eyes. He retreated his arm back from the bed frame and scooped her in his arms, pressing his forehead against hers.

She closed her eyes again and had an expression of arousal, her eyebrows knitted together and her mouth slightly open. She opened her eyes and suddenly felt very aware of what was happening between their two sexes—it was a mix of wetness from her and something else more runny—blood. Her cheeks flushed red in embarrassment, Dex could tell, and she tried to look between them as he kept thrusting his cock inside her, unsure if she should allow herself to feel good or worry about the mess she’s making.

Dex followed her line of view and blocked it with his dark eyes.

“Look at me,” he whispered. “Look at me. How do you feel?”

She met his eyes and sighed heavily, “But Dex—“

“Don’t,” he pressed his forehead firmly against hers, continuing to pound into her, feeling the tip of his cock touch the back of her cervix. “Focus on me.”

Focus on him she did—the way he was hitting her g-spot repetitively made her spread her legs wider and push him in even more. He filled her up so completely, so well, she was sure to feel him for days.

“Oh, God, Dex,” she moaned, louder than before, “something’s happening—“

“Let it,” Dex whispered against her lips, closing his eyes and focusing on hitting her sweet spot. “Come for me, __. Come for me…come for me…”

“Dex!” Her pussy convulsed around his cock as she finally reached climax for the first time. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly against her, holding on like she was holding on for life. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest and she lost her breath and regained it as she held onto his warm body. He was still inside her, thrusting more gently now. He kissed her neck, kissed the skin behind her ear, kissed her forehead and kissed her lip as he continued to move inside and out of her.

“Oh,” Dex whispered against her lips. “I’m right behind you—“

“Inside me,” she said in a whisper, “please.”

Dex closed his eyes as he felt himself release his seed inside her tight pussy, feeling it coat all over her inside, he was shaking against her. It was her turn to kiss him, to bring him back down from his own high.

He laid his entire body weight on her, which was welcomed. His cock was still inside her, resting, until he slowly pulled out of her. She held him tighter. He breathed her in deeply, kissing her shoulder. She ran her fingers through his dirty blonde hair.

He pulled back, gazed in her eyes for a moment.

“Let me get a towel,” Dex said softly.

He pulled the sheets over her and when he came back, he cleaned between her legs as best as he could while she fell asleep. Dex threw the towel in the hamper, a clean, perfect throw, and crawled back under the sheets with her. He pulled her in tightly, and she molded against him like she was meant to be there. It may have been her first time, but he was certain this was his first time feeling the attachment in the aftermath. He hoped this wouldn’t be their last.

#benjamin poindexter x reader #bullseye x reader #benjamin poindexter #bullseye #daredevil born again

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caregivingchrysalises · 1 year ago

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i’m awake angel,, buba’s awake~ bad dream darling? oh sweetheart can you take a breath for me? there we go, it’s okay if they’re shaky, just keep breathing baby i’ve got you. i know going back to sleep seems scary angel, but i’m here to see we both fly smoothly back into dreamland love. you’re being so brave baby, it was a scary dream wasn’t it dove? yeah, it’s okay baby, we’re okay now~ i’ve got you,, i’ll protect you from the scariness and shadows starlight, i promise.

awe angel, it’s okay to be scared, you’re never ever a bother dewdrop. do you want to know a secret? your buba gets scared and has bad dreams too, that’s right! i may be a prinx but i know just how scary those big feelings can be, but not to worry dove, i’ll help the scary feelings fly away angel, we’re going to be alright hun. that’s it baby keep breathing with me, you’re doing so well.

#i too don’t know why i’m awake at this hour #but alas #agere caregiver #sfw caregiver #royal caregiver #nightmare comfort #agere comfort #i would give nightmares a -10/10 on yelp #those late night thoughts consume but your charming prinx is here to comfort you #sfw agere #age regression caregiver #asks open #royalty agere #i don’t know how to tag and i really would like people to read this *sighs*#goodnight

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seventh-district · 5 months ago

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#vent #vent post #cw negative #Seven’s Public Diary #wish i wasn’t so fucking worthless and useless and stupid and selfish and mean #i am just so goddamn sick of my own bullshit. but i never change #i’m so tired of being weighed down by my 56492 mental illnesses. i don’t like being like this #my sleep schedule is so fucked up again and im tired of this constant cycle #this constant fight and endless effort to stay on a goddamn routine #all i want for christmas is a goddamn consistent sleep schedule #i hate sleeping through the day and being up all night but it’s like my body was fucking built for that or something #i don’t like it!! i want to be an early bird who goes to bed at 8pm and wakes up before the sun rises!!! but im the exact opposite!!!!!!!#i wish i just didn’t need to sleep at all. that would be the ideal. so many problems would be solved.#no i Really wish i just had the ability to fall asleep and wake up whenever i actually Want To instead of my body calling the shots #fell asleep at 9 this morning and im so mad that i didn’t get up when i was woken up at 11 #a 2hr nap would’ve been fine and i would’ve made it through the rest of the day and been able to fucking sleep again tonight #but noOOooOoOo i had to give in to the allure of my warm cozy bed and fall back asleep for 9 more goddamn hours #now once again im too awake and rested to be able to go back to sleep. but once morning rolls around im gonna be exhausted again #and i’ll either give in and attempt to take a ‘nap’ and it’ll turn into a 12hr sleep again #or i’ll have to like. walk laps around the fucking house just to keep myself awake through the day #and i’ll be super irritable as a result and make everyone around me miserable too #but everyone is already beyond fed up with my issues and behavior. rightly so i guess. so i lose either way #god there was so much stuff i was gonna/supposed to do today #i don’t know how much longer they’re gonna put up with me being such a deadbeat #you think that’d like. motivate me to get my shit together or something but no. i’m addicted to being unconscious i guess #sleep feels so fucking good. until i wake up. which is funny bc it’s all nightmares and stress dreams anyway. why do i even enjoy sleeping #i guess bc for the first few hours after waking up i experience some modicum of relief from my other mental illnesses’ symptoms #like a soft reset.#and it’s the Only thing that gets rid of my migraines so god forbid i get one of those bc then i Have to sleep regardless of the time of day #anyways! :) that’s enough whining for one vent post. time to go do something productive

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machiavelli · 8 months ago

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what’s up with me and plane crashing dreams. perhaps my life long obsession with the show air crash investigations is hitting or smth

#this is the second time in a row #I slept like four hours but i still managed to dream something #and I dreamed all of this between this post and my last reblog.#basically it all started that I was reading a post (idk if it was Twitter) of a woman saying that she had to wait for 3 hours on a airplane #for the bathroom to free and she had to stay awake the entire time #and a moment later I was on that plane too. watching her. I was about to return to my seat (I think). also i was in first class. the only #way I’ll ever experience it) but OUT OF THE NOWHERE my last year surpervisor for an expo and her husband (which I saw once a picture) stand #up. and she starts screaming something about “something sweet coming for women”…? I have no idea what that means. but all the women/girls #on the airplane stand up (they were all sleeping before) and start to crowd in front of me and i start to feel like we are going down. DOWN.#and we were in fact. going down. crashing. and I was scared as hell so while everyone was laughing/celebrating (???) I was screaming of #horror. but just before we crash I wake up and I’m in my bed (but I know I’m still dreaming. because it’s like a slow downloading of the #image). I wake up and I decided I’m late for school (which i don’t have) and I get ready quickly and I march in full force to the bus statio #then I realize there is no school and I’m outside at 5am. I found a supermarket cart and idk why but I take it with me and only when I get #home I realize that the supermarket is nowhere close to my house (like irl) and now I have a freacking shipping cart and I decided to park #it in my garage #and then my mom woke me up as my alarm for 7am went off.#I feel like by brain has been fucked. I’m not used anymore to sleeping poorly because I’ve taken a great interest in better sleeping since #last year and I can’t stand this now ugh.#good morning people tho #dream

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tojbnuy · 10 days ago

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highly requested part 2 of roommate!sukuna :) part 1 !!

cw: lol. humping, rubbing thru panties what’s the proper term for this? soft!dom sukuna he thinks he’s mean but he’s a softie, sub!reader, she’s bit of a bimbo we love her, tit fucking, feelings if you squint. MDNI.

a/n : not proofread but thank you for all the love on part one, any suggestions for the jjk roommate series are greatly appreciated :)

sukuna had been thinking about it all week. been creating an intervention in his mind about your way of living. he was putting an end to this. the past week itself was enough to finalize it for him. nearly every night you guys had sat down on the couch together to binge watch your current show. and every night you had been in your underwear and a thin tank top. sometimes he even turned the ac on so you’d feel colder and put a cardigan on. that backfired however when you were still cold and decided to seek heat from your big warm roommate. sukuna had dug his own grave because for the next one and a half hours he had your tits pressed up against his side and your ponytail draped over his arms. he could feel your hard nipples, could smell your shampoo and could see practically the entirety of your ass. safe to say he had a very long and cold shower that night while you ran along to your bed. and last night you had walked past him in the kitchen and ran your fingers up and down his back ogling his tattoos.

‘i really like your tattoos kuna’ you had said with the sweetest little smile on your face. you really had no idea what you did to him.

so tonight was the night. sukuna was gonna tell you what was on his mind. and you had presented the moment perfectly by tiptoeing into his room at 2:13am with your bunny plushy squeezed tight in your arms. sukuna was shocked to see you, he was planning to make his was to your room where he knew you were awake scrolling on your phone.

‘kuna i wanna sleep with you.’

his eyes nearly bulged out of his skull. knowing you, you would talk about sex so carelessly.

‘what??’

‘i wanna sleep with you.’ your voice was all tiny and whiny and you had that same fucking adorable tone that made him want to shove you in his pocket.

but to his relief (sort of) you peeled back the blanket and climbed into his lap, curling up like all the pictures of baby deers that you showed him. you made yourself comfortable by shuffling around some, your legs were around his waist, arms dropping to your sides.

‘why can’t you sleep in your own room.’

‘because i watched a scary video and it’s too cold in my room for me to get eight hours of sleep.’

Right. well his life just got ten times harder. he thought he’d have this problem sorted yet said problem was now in his lap. there were two ways he could do this. stroke your hair and pat your back as he explained what was bothering him. or pull your hair and smack your ass. unfortunately sukuna had never been much of a nice person.

‘listen doll there’s only so much i can tolerate.’

that had your attention, he rarely ever used this tone with you so you’d clearly made him mad.

‘i need to know exactly why you have no respect for me-‘

‘what? i respect you’

‘no you don’t. if you did, you wouldn’t be treating me like i’m one of your girlfriends. running around my place in your underwear. shoving your tits in my face every goddamn second of the day. grinding your little ass on me every time you fucking sit down.’

you had no words. you never thought sukuna would call you out on your behavior.

‘what? cat got your tongue now doll?’

‘i don’t like wearing clothes! i feel more comfy with no clothes on. i’m sorry.’

okay now he wasn’t tryna make you feel bad.

‘and you shoving your tits in my face every chance you get? jumping into my lap like a cat.’

‘i just. i feel nice when im close to you.’

‘nice? nice how?’

‘i don’t know how to say it. just feels nice.’

‘you mean nice here?’ he said as his hand cupped your warm cunt. immediately you gasped and shoved your face into his chest.

‘answer me.’

‘yes.’

‘knew you had it in you.’

‘now i would ask if you want me to carry on. but id say you deserve a little punishment for the way you’ve been acting don’t you think.’

he said as he lightly massaged you through you underwear. sukuna was so mean.

tiny little whimpers left you as his thumb drew circles over your clit through your panties, his other hand harshly gripping your ass cheek.

‘no no please. please kuna.’

‘please what doll? you think you deserve anything nice after acting like that? always so desperate aren’t you.’

‘please please, it hurts.’

you were growing frantic now, grinding your hips around and chasing for any more friction other than his single thumb.

‘only cos i’m feeling nice today. but i’m not giving you anymore than this. you need to learn a lesson.’

he pressed his index and middle fingers harder against your clit rubbing frantically as you all but wept into his chest.

‘sensitive baby aren’t you?’

‘feels so good kuna’

his fingers were relentless on your pussy, but he made sure never to move your underwear out the way. it didn’t take long before you were coming in your panties, tiny sighs breathed into his neck.

‘now doll. take your shirt off for me.’

‘mm okay’ and so obediently you lifted your shirt off and threw it to the floor.

sukuna took a minute to admire you. such pretty tits that he was finally seeing in their full glory. he grabbed a fistful of each and pulled harshly at your nipples.

‘you wanted this didn’t you? s’that why they’re always in my face?’

‘no no i wasn’t trying anything.’ you said with your eyes shut firmly at the slight burn. you couldn’t deny having his hands on you had that tingly warmth growing inside you again.

‘get my dick out for me doll.’

you knew not make him repeat himself. sukuna watched as your smaller hands (those trademark pink nails) shimmied his sweats down and reached into his boxers. he was already throbbing and you gasped at the sheer size of him in your palms.

‘please will you. can you-‘

‘what you wanna get fucked? you think you deserve that?’

‘yes i do please kuna’

‘yeah well i dont, now lay down here.’

he maneuvered you onto your back and peppered small kisses along your jaw. somehow kissing you on the mouth felt slightly too intimate.

‘push your tits together for me doll.’

‘like this?’

you said with the sweetest expression on your face, your small hands pushing at your breasts.

‘just like that doll.’

then he was straddling your chest and he began to thrust himself through the small gap between your pretty tits. fast and hard cos that was the only way to do it.

‘stick your tongue out for me’

and of course you did as told. this sight was all he needed from today onwards. you with the fat of your breasts spilling out your hands. eyes slightly teary and your tongue out licking at his tip.

he was quick to come himself, moving fast so he could cum directly on your tits.

neither of you spoke as he caught his breath. he could sense your shy demeanor coming back and as mean as he was, he wasn’t like that.

‘hey doll.’ he said with a little tap to your cheek to bring your eyes to his. he left hand stroked your cheek as his other used his shirt to wipe away the mess he’d left on your chest.

‘you still wanna sleep in my bed?’

‘yes please?’

‘always so sweet aren’t you?’

he picked you up and placed you on his chest. he wasn’t much of a cuddler but you obviously were. you snuggled your face into the crook of his neck and you warm tits were squished against his own pecs. it was still quite cold so he held you close, there was a lot more for the two of you to talk about which kept his mind busy while he attempted to put you to bed.

just as he had thought you’d drifted off, your little voice spoke up.

‘kuna?’

‘yeah doll.’

‘does this mean i can still not wear clothes in the house?’

he couldn’t help but laugh at that. your biggest worry being if you’d have to wear clothes from now on.

‘nah doll your good. you can keep em off’

‘yay.’

taglist: @totallygyomeiswife @26xidk @kamospeach @desi-laila @chaestwbryz @blueemochii @wrldtups

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ranoutofficssoiwritemyown · 6 months ago

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You decide to sleep on the couch after an argument pt.2

pt1 here

pt3 here

love and deepspace

characters: Rafayel, Xavier

Rafayel

Stubborn, petty, and a total brat are the words that perfectly describe Rafayel during arguments. It doesn’t help that you’re as stubborn as he is, but most of the time you manage to find the middle ground. Except tonight. Tonight is the night you got fed up with his attitude and the argument it caused was just awful. For an hour, both of you argued something so stupid but he wasn’t backing down and at this point, it was getting so tiring you just wanted to put an end to this.

“You know what” You throw your hands in the air “I’m done. I’m going to sleep”

Rafayel scoffed muttering something about you running away from an argument under his breath. However, his face dropped when he saw you entering the living room with a pillow and a blanket. He rushed to you with such an offended look.

“Excuse me?”

“What?” You barked at him.

“Wha- seriously? what are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”

“Child’s tantrum, honestly”

You stopped making the bed on the couch and just looked at him unimpressed. The gesture made Rafayel scoff once again and retreat from you.

“You want to be petty? be my guest. I’m going to sleep in our room, in our bed”

With that, he left you and slammed his door on his way.

“Such a child” you mutter and lay down on the couch, too agitated to sleep, replaying the argument in your mind over and over. You both said horrible things to each other and you wanted to run to him and apologize, but what hurt more than an argument is how he left you here and he, himself, went to sleep. After hours of beating yourself up for tonight’s events, you finally fell asleep not knowing Rafayel was staring at the ceiling of the bedroom feeling just as guilty if not more. Also, he hates to admit it, but he cannot sleep without you, so with a defeated sigh he made a decision.

Sunlight stirs you awake in the morning. Your neck is sore from an uncomfortable position on the couch. With a groan, you turn around and open your eyes to be startled by a purple ball right into your face. Blinking, to adjust your eyesight you realise it’s Rafayel’s head. He’s sitting on the floor with his back leaning on the couch and a blanket around his shoulders.

“You have to be kidding me” you mutter with disbelief “Rafayel”

He groaned and rubbed his eyes as he opened them.

“Oh, hi”

You just look at him dumbfounded before bursting out laughing.

“Shut up, will you?” He grumbled.

“Oh my god, you’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

He stayed silent and got up from the floor, with you following his suit.

“To what? to admit you were right? kind of… I mean you were wrong in some aspects… okay, fine you were right… and what else? to admit I couldn’t sleep without you?” He avoided your eyes and you couldn’t miss the blush spreading on his cheeks “Because I couldn’t… sleep without you, I mean”

You pinch his cheek before kissing him making his already red face even more red.

“I’m sorry too”

He quickly regained his composure walking past you.

“Yeah, yeah… c’mon let’s make breakfast”

And you follow him with a chuckle.

Xavier

You have to try really hard to have an argument with Xavier. Both of you are in perfect sync and hardly ever disagree with each other. Therefore, arguments are rare. But not nonexistent. Take tonight, for example. Xavier doesn’t need shouting and screaming to get his point through. His face devoid of any expression and cold voice make good enough job. You, on the other hand, feel like you’re on fire, and his calm nature, reassuring other times, only fuels your fire. Finally, you make the decision that you don’t want to spend any more time with him tonight… or until you calm down. So you take your blanket and set up a makeshift bed on the couch.

Xavier doesn’t pay you any mind. He didn’t even notice you reentering the living room as he started playing his video game to unwind from the previous argument. An hour passes, then another. At last, he’s had enough and turned off the video game you’ve been cursing in your mind past hour. He expects you to be asleep in your room so imagine his confusion when he sees you on the couch, still not asleep. Xavier then shrugs before going to the bedroom and coming back with his pajamas on.

“Move” he says when he walks up to you.

You turn to him.

“What?”

“Move, I’m sleepy”

“Then go to sleep”

“I’m trying to, but you won’t move” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. After a moment of hesitation, you move to make room for him. He silently slides under the blanket and since the couch is too small for both of you, he positions you in a way that you’re lying on top of him.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I couldn’t sleep”

His hand started to caress the back of your head.

“Because you’re mad at me?”

“Because I’m mad at you”

A sigh escapes his lips.

“I didn’t mean… whatever I said. I don’t know, I don’t even remember what I said”

That made you giggle.

“Neither do I. But I’m sorry… for what I said”

“Yeah, me too”

You both stay silent after that. His hand stops caressing you after a while.

“We can go to bed if you want to”

You suggest but a soft snore Xavier releases lets you know that it won’t happen, so you just accept your fate.

#rafayel #lads xavier #rafayel love and deepspace #lnds rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel x mc #loveanddeepspace #xavier love and deepspace #xavier x reader #xavier x mc #rafayel fluff #xavier fluff #lnds

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whytheylosttheirminds · 25 days ago

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you knock me out, i fall apart

being a new dad is the scariest thing in the world for rafe, until his baby girl smiles at him for the first time...

When his daughter was born, she cried so loud that Rafe thought something must be wrong. But then he saw your face, full of relief and joy as they placed your baby girl on your chest.

“She’s a fighter, huh?” The nurse asked with a chuckle.

“Just like her dad,” you said, leaning back onto the pillows and gazing up at Rafe with so much affection and relief in your eyes he thought he might be dreaming. He hoped you didn’t see the blood drain from his own face.

The baby’s little fists clenched as she kept crying out, letting the world know she was here and she was not going to be quiet about it.

“Wh-what’s wrong with her?” Rafe looked at the doctor with a panic stricken face. “Is she hurt?”

The doctor didn’t seem worried, which irritated Rafe. Could he not hear her? She was so tiny and helpless, why did no one else seem worried?

“It’s a good thing, healthy lungs,” the doctor told him casually. “Got a name?”

“Josephine Cameron,” you answered without a second thought.

You’d picked the first name only a few weeks after discovering you were pregnant, but you and Rafe had never talked about her last name. He assumed you didn’t want to offend him by saying it’d be better if your baby girl didn’t have the weight of his name strapped to her. Her life would be hard enough with a fuck up like him for a father.

“You want her name to be Cameron?” Rafe asked in surprise, his face still ashen while yours was glowing with sweat and color and new mom joy.

“Of course,” you said simply, eyes fluttering shut with exhaustion. “Mine will be too soon.”

He was stunned, but he tried not to show it, hoping everyone in the room would attribute his teary eyes to the exhaustion of your twenty-four hour labor. He’d been awake and at your side for every single second.

For just a moment, all was quiet. Then, Josie’s face scrunched with a fury he’d only ever seen in the mirror. Her scream built like a wave, crashing over the room when she finally wailed with all the force of her tiny lungs. Rafe’s heart shattered at the sound. All he wanted in the world was to help her, to take away her pain, and he hated that he had no idea how to.

He didn’t understand how you could be so calm while something was clearly wrong with the baby. But you just rubbed her back, Josie settling under your gentle touch and nuzzling into the soft skin of your bare chest. Looking down at the two of you, he’d never been more in love, or more sure that he wasn’t cut out for this. Not like you were.

“Can you take her?” You requested through a yawn.

“I-I can’t…I don’t know how.”

You smiled at him, your heavy eyelids struggling to stay open.

“Just cradle her head, like this.”

You demonstrated for him before passing the little bundle in your arms over to him.

His hands were shaking, shoulders tense. He held her away from his chest, eyes wide with panic.

“What if I drop her?”

Beneath his words, his truest fear - what if I’m too much, and it hurts her?

But you were already slipping into well-earned sleep.

“You won’t, baby,” you said dreamily.

Rafe wasn’t so sure. He met Josie’s eyes, her little blue irises identical to his own as she blinked up at him. She was only a few minutes old, but he thought he saw something knowing in her gaze, her face reading something like, this guy? Seriously?

He had the strange urge to apologize to her: yeah so sorry, this was all a big misunderstanding. I’ll go get your real dad now.

But he couldn’t, because he was her real dad, no substitutes would be coming to rescue her from that fact.

Josie’s blanket came unswaddled as Rafe continued to struggle to hold her properly. You couldn’t fight off the sleep that took over, so a nurse rushed to his side and mercifully pulled Josie from his arms to place her in the bassinet. He was grateful, but felt strongly like he’d just failed his first fatherhood test.

Just like her dad, you’d said.

For Josie’s sake, he sure hoped not.

------❤︎------

Rafe had committed to getting clean the second he saw that little pink plus sign on the pregnancy test. And he’d kept his promise. His body took a long time to adjust, but now he was healthier than ever. He woke up with you for every feeding, hair messy and eyes half closed as he went to the kitchen to get you water and a midnight snack.

“You can go back to sleep, love,” you’d assure him sweetly.

“If you’re up, I’m up.” He’d say.

You stopped trying to convince him to go back to sleep, grateful for his partnership in the exhausting early hours.

One night, only a few days after you’d gotten home from the hospital, you finished feeding Josie and set her on the boppy laid on your mattress. She wriggled and stretched, drowsy in a milk haze.

“I’ll be right back,” you told Rafe, standing to head into the shower.

“Oh, uh, okay.” He tried not to let you hear his nerves. He hadn’t spent much time alone with the baby since carrying her in from the car a few days ago. He was still so sure he’d break her if given the chance.

Josie settled for a minute, he thought she’d gone back to sleep. Just as he was breathing a sigh of relief, her little eyes blinked open, staring unfocused at the ceiling above her. Her vision hadn’t developed yet, but he could tell she sensed her mother’s absence already. Her face scrunched in the unsettled way Rafe was quickly learning led to her cries.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, shhh.” Rafe pulled the boppy closer to him, letting it sit between his legs as he bent over the baby, his bare shoulders casting a shadow across her tiny body in the dim lamplight.

“She’ll be right back,” he tried to sound assuring, but his eyes flicked nervously to the cracked open bathroom door, hoping you’d change your mind about a shower and come back to them.

He looked down at his daughter and took a deep breath, reaching tentatively to place a hand on her little belly. Since she was born, you’d been trying to determine who she looked more like - you or Rafe. But now, gazing down at her, it was strikingly clear how much she looked like a Cameron.

Her chubby little cheeks concave in tiny dimples, just like her dad’s. Her bright eyes are deep blue, just like her dad’s. Her little forehead scrunches and her little lips purse when she’s upset, just like her dad’s.

The sudden realization that she looked so much like him warmed Rafe from the inside out, something completely new blooming in his chest. She was his. His baby girl. His eyes grew damp as she squirmed and squawked, looking around the room like she was still trying to find you. He gently settled the tips of his calloused forefingers in the dips in her soft cheeks, unable to resist a gentle squish.

“Hi baby,” he said lovingly.

The deep, soft sound of his voice caught her attention, her eyes locking on him. And then she smiled.

Rafe’s heart leapt in his chest, he looked up, considering calling out for you to come see, but he was speechless. He was tempted to take a picture, but no image could capture how perfect this moment was.

“Hi Jojo,” he repeated, his voice cracking. “Are you smiling at dada? You’re smiling at dada! My girl!”

The parenting books stacked on his bedside table had taught him most babies don��t smile until they’re six weeks old, but the longer he looked at her in amazement, the wider she smiled at him.

“You’re better than most babies, huh?” He cooed. “Yeah. ‘Cause you’re my smart girl. You’re dada’s girl.”

Without even thinking about it, he scooped her into his arms. She was already nestled against his chest, skin to skin, before it hit him how natural the movement had been. He was finally holding her the way she needed him to. She scrunched up her little body, curled on his chest in perfect peace.

Rafe dropped a featherlight kiss to the top of her head as she drifted off to sleep.

“My girl.”

------❤︎------

a/n: wait I loved writing this sm. I might do some more dada rafe and baby jojo fluff soon <3

update: here's the au :)

divider credit to @qqmariztwsse !

#rafe cameron #dad!rafe cameron #Rafe Cameron x reader #Rafe Cameron x you #Rafe Cameron fluff #Rafe Cameron fic #rafe fic #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #obx fic #Rafe Cameron blurb #rafe cameron imagine #Rafe Cameron angst #mom!reader #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fandom #dada!rafe and baby jojo

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blondieeu · 3 months ago

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morning rituals. bakugou k.

when you got pregnant, bakugou started to make it more of a habit to tell you goodbye properly before he leaves the house.

Before, after he was all ready — belt buckled, bag packed, he’d only mumble a quick “later”, and that was only if he knew you were awake — but now, before he even seriously leaves the house for good he’s kissing you in between his morning routine, rubbing and kissing at your growing baby.

you lay on your shared bed, cuddling with some big body pillow with your belly laid on it, watching your man get ready in the early hours of the morning. He shouldn’t be working, but he insists to work until the day of his mandatory paternity leave.

“Why don’t you just stay home? Y’already got the biggest job of your life coming up” your hand came up to support your head for a better view of him adjusting his hero gear in the mirror, luckily you did — catching a small smirk from him. He glances at you through the mirror. “Yea, like I’d just sit around here and do nothing. Gotta make sure he’s got everything he needs.” He picked up his belt from his side of the dresser.

“He?” “He.” You snicker from the bed and he turns around, facing you fully. “What’s so funny? We’re having a boy.” Bakugou’s usually hard eyes soften when they catch your swollen belly slightly hidden by the pillow. “I know we’re having a girl..but we can always try again though” you wiggle your eyebrows at him and he rolls his eyes.

The thought of leaving you every morning was starting to weigh on him, even if you didn’t notice and he was too stubborn to outright admit it. “You good?” He asked gruffly before crouching down next to you at the edge of the bed, pecking your lips.

One of his hands reaches out to you almost instinctively, resting on your stomach. It’s like second nature to him now — after all these months of your baby growing. His fingers trace gentle patterns across your warm skin as he felt the occasional kicks and shifts of ‘him’.

“Mm-hmm” you hum placing your hand over his. “But.. id be better if you stayed at home with me” This time, you were the one pecking his lips. Bakugou huffs and rolls his eyes again in a playful manner, but there’s no mistaking the underlying guilt flickering behind them. “Be home before ya know it. Just got the rest of the month babe, then I’m home for good.”

And before you could protest or even get another word out, he leans in again to press a kiss on your forehead, and then one to your belly. “Be nice to mommy, squirt” he mutters against it, his voice uncharacteristically tender and loving.

And just like that, the front door clicks shut and he’s out the door for the day, leaving you in a peaceful silence — already counting the hours before your man comes home again.

Blondieeu xx

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jamminvroomvroom · 5 months ago

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as sick as it sounds, i loved you first. 2

LN x fem!leclerc reader

PART 2 OF 2 -> read part 1 linked HERE!

here we go again guys, you know the drill! follows directly on from part 1 because of the silly word count :(

warnings: warnings: 18+!! minors GO AWAY! smut, angst, fluff, kinda enemies to lovers? kinda? r is charles sister oop, miscommunication, both of them are down bad for eachother but they are also extremely dumb! breeding kink, size kink, pain kink (if u squint), unprotected p in v (don’t be silly!)

part 2: 6.1k words

8. i have you.

“you never told me why.” lando blurts.

the sun is setting outside, the pair of you sprawled out over your hotel bed. he’d been in your room for a few hours, tangled with you between the linen sheets. it’s thursday in brazil, and he’d made a beeline for your hotel room after media day wrapped up. he couldn’t explain the anxiety he felt, pooling thickly in the pit of his belly, but it subsided as soon as he saw your pretty face, peeking through the crack in your door.

he’d stayed after, a habit that had been developing of late, when you were both at home in monaco, but it was unusual on a race weekend. you’d pulled out your laptop to do some work, and chucked the remote at him, telling him to put something on netflix. he’d just smiled and obliged, more than willing to stay with you.

“told you ‘why’ what?” you look up from your laptop, confused.

“why you haven’t really been with anyone else.” his voice is small, scared he’s overstepping but he figures he’s seen you naked one too many times to get shy.

“oh.”

you stare off into the dim light of the room for a second, collecting your thoughts, reliving it all.

“you don’t need to tell me, sorry if that was weird-“

“no, uh, it’s fine. it’s a bit tragic really, embarrassing.” you start. “there was a guy, a couple of years ago. he was on my course at uni. he was perfect, flowers on my doorstep once a week, romantic dinners overlooking the harbour.” you reminisce, smiling sadly. “we went on a few dates and he was selling it all perfectly, it was like he was telling me everything i wanted to hear. i trusted him, so i slept with him. it was my first time.” your breath hitches. “next thing i know, he’s telling everyone that will listen that he’s best friends with charles leclerc and that he’s fucked an f1 drivers sister. and, you know, monaco is small. charles and arthur beat the shit out of him.” you laugh, but it doesn’t reach your eyes, which are now glossed over with fresh, stinging tears.

lando slides closer to you, tentatively wrapping an arm over your shoulder.

“it’s always been hard, you know? people trying to get close to me so that they could get close to charles. all my life, it’s been the same shit. i just wanted someone to want me for me, just once.”

you’re crying now, and lando wants to die for causing it.

“hey, ‘m so sorry, honey. i shouldn’t have asked.” he shushes you, pulling you close. he kisses the top of your head gently, and you snuggle further into him.

“no, it’s okay. wanted you to know. that’s why i like this. us.” it comes out just above a whisper.

“that’s why i like us too.” he murmurs. you look up at him, scanning his face.

“what’s your story? charles said something to me once about a bad breakup.” you ask softly. lando sighs.

“she wanted the lifestyle more than she wanted me.” he shrugs.

“i’m sorry.”

“don’t be. i’m better off.” i have you, he wants to add.

“i like the fact that we can’t hurt eachother that way.” you breathe, voicing the sentiment that you’ve both shared since the very first time you were together.

“i like it too, honey. more than you know.”

9. ache.

a weight lifts off of him in vegas.

brazil had been a shit show, one that he wanted to forget. one that left him awake for two days avoiding your calls, until you snapped him out of it by showing up at his place anyway, and giving him the best head of his fucking life. he’d slept like a damn baby after that.

he had a week off, after, which he spent in your bed more than his own, and then he was promptly off to nevada, awaiting your arrival a few days later and fixated on clawing something back after brazil, even if it was just pride.

well, that fixation didn’t amount to much, but at least you were there, somewhere, watching and waiting. charles is a wreck, though, storming away from parc ferme, which means you’ll be with him, instead of with lando. he feels selfish at the way it stings.

he’s exhausted when he leaves the track, dead on his feet in the elevator up to his room. he can’t bring himself to join max or george and celebrate. he’ll make it up to both of them another time. his phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out, recognising your contact. he doesn’t even fight the smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth.

packed something special for you. you gonna come find out what?

he’s in love with you. has been for a while.

the attention you pay to him for himl, the way you tease him and laugh with him and let him lose himself in unravelling you. your quick wit, mesmerising eyes, the way you switch languages when he scrambles your brain and you can’t think hard enough to keep speaking english. he’s a goner, and he knows it.

he doesn’t bother replying, just makes a beeline for your room. he’s spent enough time in it already this weekend to make it there without much thought. you’d even left him a keycard, which he retrieves with nimble fingers from his wallet, letting himself into your suite.

he calls your name, rounding the corner and he could die right there, just at the sight of you.

you’re lamplit, knelt on the middle of your bed, wrapped in nothing but intricate, baby pink lace.

“my god.” he pants, jaw dropped. you’re ethereal, gorgeous, a delicate gift wrapped up just for him to open.

“do you like it?” your eyes are wide, daunted.

“what the fuck did i do to deserve you?” he stalks to the end of the bed, shrugging off his jacket, his hoodie, until he’s left in a white vest and team joggers. he kneels down at the foot of the bed, ready to crawl over you. “i love it.”

you flush, grinning sweetly as he crawls over you, pushing you back into the mattress.

“you did this all for me?” lando asks, stroking over a lacy bra strap.

“thought you deserved it.” you purr, but your facade slips for just a minute. “is this okay? never done this before.” you glance up at him with round, doe eyes that make him swallow hard, melting further into you.

“‘s perfect.” he promises. “you’re so perfect.”

lando kisses you softly, his warm skin pressing into yours. you moan quietly into his mouth, holding him close. he thumbs over the lace adorning your bust, stroking it. you squirm every time he brushes your skin.

“wanna be on top. wanna try it.” you pant into his mouth, watching closely as he groans, eyes fluttering as he imagines the sight.

“only if you keep this on.” he bargains, flipping the pair of you over.

you sit up on his lap, smoothing your hands over his chest as his find your hips. he steadies you, playing with the band of your panties, tracing over the pattern.

“can’t believe you did this all for me.” lando coos, taking the opportunity to take it all in, you, flustered and breathtaking, straddling him. dressed up all for him, all his.

“you deserve it.”

“do you think you’re ready for me? lemme see.” his hand skates between your thighs, pressing the pads of his fingers against the crotch of your underwear. he applies pressure against the wet patch that he feels, licking his lips. “were you thinking about me when you were getting all dressed up? thinking about how i’d touch you?”

“yeah,” you nod frantically, grinding down on his fingers. “wanted you all day but i wanted to be good for you.” you pout. you’re gonna kill him, he thinks.

“always good for me.” he applies more pressure, toying with your clit through the lace, the sensation making you quiver, bucking your hips.

“just want you inside of me, lando. i’m ready.” you plead, palming over his sweats. your hand travels further, finding his between your legs. you tug your underwear to the side, and he feels just how wet you are for him.

“you sure, baby?”

there he goes again. baby. your tummy twists.

“yeah, lan, i want it to hurt a little.” you sound so sweet for him and it shreds the rest of his self restraint.

lando sits up just enough to rip off his vest, taps your thigh so that you lift up for a second, long enough for him to shrug off his sweats. when he’s bare, he paws at your hips, helping you to adjust. your fingers wrap around his length and he jolts, mouth falling open as you swipe the head of him through your slit. you sink down, taking just the tip, but it feels like the first time all over again, the angle creating delicious pressure that burns through your pelvis. your eyes squeeze shut and he swirls his fingers over your sides.

“take it easy for me, love.” lando urges, looking up at you with concern.

“i like it. promise.” you choke out, eyes rolling back at the pleasure, the burn.

you continue to slide down on him, sinking further and further until you’re flush against his pelvis. you roll your hips experimentally, your clit brushing against the thatch of hair at his base and you squirm, sensitive.

“want me to help?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“wanna do this for you.” you pant, rocking your hips against his.

the angle is brutal, so intoxicatingly good, and you can already feel yourself leaking all over him. you build up a rhythm, slow and steady, watching the ripple of his abs everytime you sink back down on him, the way his curls fan over his forehead, the veins in his arms bulging as he grips at your waist tighter and tighter.

“you look so pretty, baby, taking me like this.” lando sighs, helping you pick up the pace. you cry out, leaning backwards, fingers gripping his firm thighs.

“it’s so good, you feel so good.” you whine, arching your back.

he’s entranced by the way your breasts bounce, fighting against the skimpy bra and he sinks his teeth into his plush bottom lip, eyeing you hungrily. one hand leaves your waist and travels to the cups of your bra, tugging so harshly that you hear the threads break. he frees your tits, watching in delight as they fall out of the lace confines.

“you’re so sexy, honey, look so beautiful. you’re all mine, aren’t you? this is all for me, right?” lando’s eyes roll back in his head when he feels the way you clamp down around him at his words. he’s gonna fill you up, he thinks, mark you as his from the inside out.

“yeah, lan, all yours.” you slur, fighting the urge to cum. “‘m all yours.”

he can see that you’re tiring, the ache setting in, so he pulls you forward, until you’re chest to chest, wrapped up his his thick arms.

“i’ve got you, baby.” he swears, holding you close as he rolls his hips, fucking up into you.

it’s all too much like this, the constant pressure on your clit, the head of his cock tapping against your cervix, the thrumming of his heart, the cold sweat of his chest peaking your nipples. you let out a strangled cry of his name, and you see white, your nerve endings overstimulated and fried. all you can hear is his voice, pulling your through it and out the other side.

“did so good for me, baby, such a good girl. took it all so well, love.”

you’re limp on top of him, a dead weight curled around him like a life force. there’s nothing that could make him move you, and wouldn’t let you go unless you asked. you lay there in silence, your mixed release leaking out of you. your heart rate steadies, about as much as it can with him around, and you feel yourself blinking away sleep, exhausted. lando notices, of course he does.

“let’s clean up.” he suggests, sitting up carefully with you on his lap.

“carry me?” you request sleepily, a lazy smile painting your face.

“as you wish.” he jokes, bowing his head.

your legs wrap around his waist as he shuffles off of the bed, and he walks to the bathroom, setting you down on the marble sink top. he leans into the shower, adjusting the temperature and turning the water on. he lets it heat up and turns back to you. no words are exchanged as he peels your ruined panties off, as he unhooks your bra and drops its all onto the counter. he tugs you off of the side, guiding your under the stream of water, the warmth making you relax into him. he’s more than happy to prop you up.

“my legs ache.” you giggle, resting your cheek against his shoulder.

“was it worth it?”

“definitely.”

“good.”

he cleans you, massaging soap into your skin, and washing it off. you stay close while he does the same for himself, passing him different products as you clean up together. it’s quiet, nothing needs to be said, and you wonder if this is what life with him would be like. domestic and easy.

“stay.” you let yourself ask, croaking the request out into the silence. you’re both drying off, and he’s gathering he’s clothes.

“i thought you’d want me to go.” he looks like a deer in headlights. cute.*

“stay.” your repeat, and this time it sounds like a plea. he slides his boxers on.

“okay.”

he’s like a furnace under the covers and you can’t help but curl into his side, legs wrapping around eachothers. there’s no going back from this, you fear. he’s thinking the same thing. you kiss his chest as you fall asleep, just a quick press of your lips to his pec, but it makes him hot all over. if the lights were still on, you’d see him blushing. he returns the favour with careful peck to your hairline. you both nuzzle impossibly closer.

“has it ever been like that for you?” you whisper into the darkness. you hear the change in his breathing.

the question is loaded; have you ever felt like this before? was that just sex to you? what are we? what is this? do you want me how i want you?

“never.” it’s barely a whisper

you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

when you wake up, he stirs, bronzed arms tightening around you.

“go back to sleep.” he grumbles, pulling your back to his chest.

“i need to catch my flight.” you reply, turning around to face him.

you’re stunned when you see him smushed into the pillow, lips pouty, eye lashes fluttering to clear away sleep. he looks so pretty in the morning light, and you wish you’d asked him to stay the night sooner.

“just fly with me.” lando mutters. you freeze.

“lan, you know i can’t do that. what would that look like?”

“who cares?” he half shrugs behind you, and you wriggle away, sit up in bed.

“uh, me? i care, lando. i can’t be seen flying around with some other driver, do you know how much that would complicate things?”

“some other driver.” he huffs. that gets his attention, and he sits up. “what so we can sneak around, and you’ll let me fuck you, but being on an airplane together is crossing the line?” he grunts sarcastically. you narrow your eyes at him.

“don’t say it like that.” you scold.

“how should i say it, then? i thought maybe this meant something more to you.” he’s standing from the bed now, hurt thick in his voice, and you panic, reaching out for him, but he’s finding his clothes.

“it does! it does mean something to me but… lando, i can’t put charles in that position. i can’t put myself in that position.” you reason weakly, standing and rapidly moving towards him. you pull him to face you, holding onto his shoulders. “don’t go, please.” you whisper, cupping his cheek.

he stares down at you, dejected, a wounded animal, and pushes your hands off of him.

“i, uh. i care about you. a lot. too much, i think. i can’t go through this again, and you can’t hurt your brother. so…” he breathes shakily.

“so?” you plead, shaking your head. “don’t do this, we can…”

“i’m not gonna be ‘some other driver’, honey. ‘m sorry.”

“lando-“

“its okay. this was good while it lasted, and i know you’re gonna find what you’re looking for, without all of the, uh,” he gestures around blindly. “the complications.”

“don’t go.” you whisper, catching his hand. tears pool in the corners of your eyes, distorting him.

“go catch your flight.” he smiles sadly, finally dressed, and then he’s gone.

you stand frozen, taking stock of whatever the fuck just happened.

i care about you.

good while it lasted.

you’re gonna find what you’re looking for.

complications.

you choke out a sob, stumble backwards onto the foot of your bed when it hits you.

you’d already found what you were looking for, and now, he was gone.

you’re supposed to go straight to qatar with charles, but you beg him to get you a flight home instead.

he can hear that you’ve been crying, and tells you that he’ll kill anyone that you need him to. you promise it’s fine, through even more tears, tell him that you’ll fill him in when he’s got a minute to breathe.

the ticket lands in your inbox and you flee. you spend the twelve hour flight watching love actually, crying into a glass of wine, and wondering if you should get gracie abrams’ lyrics tattooed on your forehead.

i love you, i’m sorry would be quite fitting right about now.

when you land, you don’t even go home, making a beeline for alex and charles’ apartment instead. when alex lets you in, confused to see your face, leo does laps around your feet. you drop your bags and fall into her arms, sob until your throat is raw and your eyes are bloodshot.

“i fucked up.” you wail, breathing hard.

“lando?” she asks, tentative. she has a knowing look, and your eyes nearly fall out of your head.

“what? how did you-“

“well let’s just say that we saw the DM he sent you, and arthur was actually sat opposite me when you said you were with him.” she admits. you gasp.

“does charles… does he…?”

“oh, sweetie, charles knows nothing. although he did ask me what shoe size you wear after coming to your place a few weeks back. he said something about a pair of birkenstocks that looked huge compared to your other shoes, and i told him that was just the style.” she snorts, and you slap your hand over your forehead.

“oh, jesus.” you whine, hiding your face in your hands.

“wanna tell me what happened?”

“i don’t even know, he asked me to fly with him and then i said it would complicate things, that i couldn’t been seen with, quote on quote, ‘some other driver.’” you sigh.

“some other driver? oh, girl.”

“yep.”

“were you guys dating…? or?”

“no! lately things had been a bit more,” you pause, gathering your thoughts. “intimate? i don’t know. i definitely have feelings for him.”

alex looks at you sympathetically, strokes your knee soothingly.

“have you told him that?”

“no, i didn’t know how and now he’s done with me.” you wince, a fresh wave of tears pricking your eyes.

“maybe not, sweetie, maybe you if you told him how you felt, he’d understand. is charles what you’re worried about?”

“charles, the fans, all of it.” you whimper.

“the fans can be, well, intense, but take it from me, if lando’s worth it, none of that matters. is he worth it?”

you pause, weighing it all up. the way he’d been with you, so gentle and caring, considerate and interested in you. he’d made you feel safe and satisfied, and everytime you caught him looking at you, you felt that first initial spark all over again. you could laugh with him, push and tease and not just be charles leclerc’s little sister. you look forward to seeing him, feeling him, speaking to him. all of this together feels heavy, but you want to bear it.

“he is.” you whisper, looking at alex nervously. “oh, god, what do i do?”

“i think there’s a paddock pass with your name on it that you should make use of.” she tells you, wrapping you in a tight hug. “and if charles has a problem, tell him he has to go through me.”

10. pizza and pasta.

max fewtrell sips his coffee in the hotel lobby, waiting for keegan to join him. it’s hot in qatar, dry and bright, ornate.

his phone buzzes.

message request from: yourusername

HI SORRY ARE YOU IN QATAR????

he probably looks like a cartoon character, eyes bulging out of his skull.

another message comes through.

this sounds insane and i’m sorry that this is like, the first time we’ve ever spoken, but i need a huge favour. like a really really huge favour.

max scratches the back of his head, pulling a face at his phone. baffled wouldn’t even begin to cover how he feels.

he picks up his phone, and opens the messages.

lando over exerts himself keeping away from you. the sprint race had been a breeze compared to staying away, out of your reach. it hurts like hell, but it’s a necessary evil for both your sakes.

he wants to sleep, do nothing else but collapse onto his mattress, phone silenced and curtains drawn as tightly shut as they can go. he unlocks the door to his hotel room. the light flashes green, and he relaxes, finally. until, he doesn’t.

there’s a faint sound coming from down the short corridor that separates his front door from his sleeping area. it’s not max, he’s just left him outside his own hotel room, and it’s not keegan, either, for the same reason. he wonders if he has another stalker, braces himself and picks up the first thing he can find. a shoe. useless, he thinks.

lando creeps down the corridor, poised and ready, jumps out of his skin when you round the corner before he can get there. you yelp, bracing yourself against the wall.

“what the fuck, i thought you were a murderer!” lando huffs, throwing his head back.

somehow, the sight of you is worse than any murderer could ever be.

“putain! god, i’m so sorry! so sorry!” you squeak.

“how did you get in here?”

“funny story,” you tilt your head to the side, trying to look harmless. “max let me in.”

“verstappen?” lando asks, face twisting with confusion.

“no, idiot. fewtrell.” you reply, duh-like. “i can go, i know this is crazy and weird and a total violation, but i had to talk to you.” your voice softens and lando seems to finally relax. he’ll kill max later.

“this is batshit, actually, but i respect the grind.” lando shrugs. “what do you want?” he sounds harsher than intended, closed off, but you suppose you deserve it.

“i’m sorry about what happened last weekend.” you inhale shakily. “i… i care about you a lot, too, and i have done for a while but i was too scared to say it. i realised as soon as you left that i never ever wanna hurt you like that. never want you to feel like i don’t lo- care about you… like that.” you catch yourself, not ready to say certain words. he gets the gist.

“i don’t wanna be some hookup anymore. it was fine at first, when i thought that’s all i could have from you, but i know that it’s not. i want you.” lando states, his words poignant. “whatever pace you need, whatever you want from me, i wanna give it to you.”

the space between you dissipates.

“i saw you, you know, watching me from your garage all those months ago, like you were trying place me.” your voice is barely above a whisper. “admittedly, i kinda wanted to punch you for ruining that dress, but i also, really really secretly thought you were cute.”

“well, if we’re being honest, i really wanted to fuck you the first time i saw you.” he jokes crudely, and you slap his chest. “in my defence, i was blackout drunk.”

“asshole.” you mutter. you’re so close now that his nose bumps yours.

“i think you like it.” he whispers.

“yeah, i really do.”

your lips meet his urgently, homecoming. it’s been too long since you’ve had him in your hands, touched him and felt him breathe against you. the kiss is passionate, frantic, and you know you’re in love with him. you’re certain.

an hour later, you’re tucked into bed with him, a movie that you’re not paying attention to playing idly on the tv. pizza crusts lay on a plate, the leftovers of your impromptu dinner date.

you’ve covered your degree, how he got into racing, what you do for work, who you’re friends are, family dynamics.

you learn that his favourite colour actually is yellow, and he learns that you’re favourite drink is red wine. he prefers pizza, you prefer pasta. you like flat whites, and he doesn’t like coffee at all.

“after abu dhabi, i’ll take you on a real date. i promise.” he sounds excited as he says it, and you melt into his side.

“oh yeah?” you ask, looking up at him, your cheeks smushed against his shoulder. he tucks your hair behind your ear, thumb stroking your cheek tenderly. he just hums in response, gazing down at you.

“gonna talk to your brothers as well.” he murmurs, dipping down to peck your lips.

“not just yet.” you whisper. he furrows his eyebrows.

“why?” he doesn’t sound upset, maybe a little deflated.

“i wanna enjoy this a bit longer, at least go on a real date before, you know, they kill you.” you keep your tone serious, holding it together well. he bursts out laughing, squeezing you closer.

“and here i was worried that you were ashamed of me.” he’s grinning toothily, boyish and pure, and you kiss him again, deeper.

“never.” you coo.

11. daylight.

abu dhabi is a distant memory by the time you get back to monaco. you were happy for your brother and your boyfriend.

yeah, that’s what you get to call him now.

your first date had been effortless and yet so intricately perfect, lando planning it down to the last detail. flowers delivered to you the morning of, picking you up at the door, telling you just how beautiful you looked. your table had been waiting for you, candlelit, dressed immaculately. a bottle of red wine served as the centrepiece, your favourite kind. swoon.

he orders pizza, you order pasta. halfway through, you switch plates.

you wake up the next morning in his arms, content and satiated, still bare from the night before. your phone is buzzing, stirring your both out of your deep sleep. you ignore it.

“c’mere.” he begs, breath fanning out across your neck and you wriggle backwards, further into his arms. your naked skin moulds with his, and you can feel him, ready and waiting against the curve of your ass. he’s still half asleep, and so are you, but you spread your legs just enough for him to swipe himself through your folds and slip right in.

you groan at the stretch, he shushes you soothingly, clinging to your frame. everything is so warm and heightened.

“so ready for me.” he whispers, kissing over your shoulder, hips making the most minimal, languid thrusts that make you dizzy.

“want you like this every morning.” you purr, hiking your top leg up even further. he’s basically on top of you now, his body half covering yours.

lando drags your hips back to meet his, breathing heavily against the back of your neck.

“anytime you want me ‘m here. ‘m yours.” lando mutters, eyes rolling back in his head when you clench around him. lewd sounds are exchanged between your lazy bodies, so worked up, two powder kegs desperate to explode.

it happens in waves, powerful orgasms washing over your bodies like the sunlight through the curtains. it’s bright and warm and leaves you buzzing underneath him, electrified.

“good morning.” you smirk, rolling over to face him.

he’s already sunk back down into the mattress, a satisfied grin on his face, eyelashes dusting the tops of his cheeks where his eyes have fallen shut. he looks angelic, and if it wasn’t for his devious ways, you’d hail him a saint.

“very good morning, baby.” lando pants, scrubbing his hands over his face.

“you look so pretty.” you breathe, raking your nails through his hair. he groans, shivers of pleasure radiating through his scalp and down his back.

“not as pretty as you.” he surges forward, pinning you to the bed, the pair of you a hazy mess of limbs and laughter, so wrapped up in eachother. he’s peppering you with kisses, all over you face and your chest, further and further down your body.

round two is about to commence, and you’re more than excited, ready to welcome him back between your thighs, when you both here a loud, repetitive thud coming from faraway. lando pulls back, trying to pinpoint the sound.

“is that the door?” he says to himself. “sorry, baby. need to get that.” he frowns apologetically. you sigh, waving your hand in understanding, watching as he grabs a robe.

charles nearly chokes on air and fury when he gets the all caps message from arthur, followed by one from lorenzo, then his publicist.

arthur: HAVE YOU SEEN TWITTER? i don’t know if i should laugh or cry

enzo: be nice to her, don’t be a little bitch

publicist: Charles, we will need to address this news immediately and conclude whether the photos are out of context or not. Meeting scheduled on the shared calendar.

first question: what fucking photos? did someone catch him picking his nose in public?

second question: who does he need to be nice too?

third question: can he not go five fucking minutes without some impending media crisis?

he opens twitter and doesn’t need to look hard, because there on his screen is a picture taken the night before of his precious baby sister, and there is lando fucking norris with his tongue down her throat.

alex asks him where he’s going, watching him storm out keys in hand. he doesn’t respond with anything but a growl and a mutter of your name. alex’s eyes go wide, reached for her phone.

to: your number

girl he knows! idk how but he KNOWS!

for once in your life PICK UP THE PHONE

JESUS OKAY i just saw twitter…

OKAY im tracking charles location rn and looks like he’s near lando’s?

MISS LECLERC PLEASE! HELLO?????

it was nice knowing you babe.

you pick up your phone as lando leaves the room, scrolling absentmindedly through your notifications. your interest peaks, however, when you see about a million texts from alex, and even more missed call. in fact, you have literally thousands of notifications, and your blood runs cold.

you’d been so careful last night, surely it hadn’t leaked. your blood runs cold when you open your text chain with alex. the aggressive knocking on the door suddenly makes harrowing sense and you spring from the mattress just in time to hear the front door click.

“is she here?” you hear charles bellow, voice laced thickly with anger.

“uh… who?” lando tries, he really does, but he’s not a good liar. you wince, grabbing anything to cover your dignity: lando’s sweats and a t-shirt. you scramble out of the bedroom, sliding down the corridor from the sheer speed you’re moving at.

“fucking hell.” charles sighs, wincing at the sight of you. “of all the people on the planet, you pick my rival? you pick him?” charles barks at you. you close your eyes, focusing on your breathing as your chest constricts. “i told you. i specifically told you not to mess around with him, and c’mon, i don’t ask you for much.” charles throws his hands out in frustration.

“charles, listen to me,” you keep your voice calm and steady. “we’re not messing around, we… we’re together.” you confirm, watching his jaw tick.

“together? with him? do you know how many girls probably think they’re in a relationship with him? half of the portuguese modelling industry is linked to him.” charles laughs incredulously, disgusted. your eyes narrow, watching lando crumble into a million pieces in your peripheral.

“don’t you dare ruin this for me! and how can you come into his house and speak to him that way? my god, charles, you don’t get it, do you? i can never be happy with anyone because of you! everyone, everyone, uses me to get to you and, god, i finally found someone who cares about me and couldn’t give less of a shit about who you are and you don’t approve? shall i stay single and lonely and in your shadow forever? should i go for some greasy hedge fund legacy who wants to fuck any leclerc he can get his hands on? huh? i’m sorry if you don’t approve, truly, i am, but you will not have a say in this.”

charles stays silent, as does lando, the only sound in the hallway being your heavy breathing, a symptom of your monologue. you feel the ghost of lando’s touch on your waist, soothing you from your outburst, and you lean into his touch, looking up at him. his eyes are reassuring, the only source of comfort.

charles watches intently, the silent communication between you both, and it knocks him for six. ultimately, he wants you to be happy, but it begs the question: can lando make you happy? the way you truly deserve? he sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, lets out a muttered string of expletives.

“will you look after her?” he stares daggers at lando, watches the way the brit straightens up.

“i will.” lando nods firmly, eyes sincere.

“and you won’t hurt her? you won’t fuck her around?” charles looks like he’s desperately pleading, but his voice is commanding, no margin for error.

“i promise.”

“and you’ll make her happy?”

“i’d do anything for her.”

your head snaps towards lando, the tears you’d been holding back finally breaking the dam. charles watches closely, steps backwards towards the door. there isn’t space for him here right now.

“okay. i- okay.” you watch the way charles backs down, and he finally meets your eyes again. “ma chére, je suis désolé.” he tells you solemnly. you nod, lips in a thin, hard line. you can feel lando nudge you forward.

“come here, loser.” you groan, opening your arms for your brother. charles meets you half way, squeezes you tight. he gently kisses your forehead and turns to leave, not before shooting lando a look that says ‘i’m watching you.’

you turn back to your newfound boyfriend, tears still falling, but you pay them no mind.

“well done, baby.” he affirms, thumbing away your tears.

“i love you, lando.” you whisper, threading your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck. “thank you.” his eyes glaze over, total adoration swirling in the pools of green.

“so glad you said that because i absolutely love you too.” he laughs, hauling you in for a kiss. it’s a mess of tears and laughter and a weird sense of serenity.

“you might wanna call your publicist. pictures of last night leaked.” you mumble against his lips.

“at least we don’t have to sneak around anymore.” he shrugs. “i’ll call later. got things to do.” he picks you up effortlessly, throwing you over his shoulder. you squeal, and he teasingly slaps your ass.

you catch sight of the apartment as he walks you through it, and you think about the first time you saw it, under the cover of darkness, covert and clandestine.

you much prefer it in the light of day.

you prefer lando in the light of day, too.

yourusername and landonorris just posted on instagram:

liked by: francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, oscarpiastri and others.

yourusername: oops!

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thank god that’s over lmfao - thank you for reading!!

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @welld0nebaku @thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722

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marsdql · 4 months ago

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Morning menance — Lee Heeseung

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 PAIRING: heeseung x sleepy!reader, GENRE: fluff, kinda crack? WC: 0.7k….! SNY— reader being needy and a brat because I love acting like the world revolves around me sorry!

The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of the nightlight on the bedside table. You stirred in your sleep, the warmth of the blanket and your hoodie suddenly becoming unbearable. With a groggy groan, you tugged at the fabric, pulling the hoodie off and tossing it to the side. Left in your tank top and sleep shorts, you sighed in relief, curling back up and nuzzling into the pillow.

Heeseung stirred beside you, his arm instinctively wrapping around your waist. Even half-asleep, he pulled you close, mumbling something incoherent under his breath before settling back into his slumber.

A few hours later, at the crack of 7 a.m., you blinked awake again. The soft morning light seeped through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. It was way too early for you, but something had woken you up—perhaps a lingering restlessness. You rubbed at your eyes, letting out a small whine, still half-asleep but already feeling the beginnings of your morning fussiness.

Heeseung was still dozing beside you, his face peaceful, but you weren’t in the mood to let him sleep. Turning to him, you gently nudged his shoulder. “Hee,” you mumbled, your voice soft and needy. “Hee…”

He groaned faintly, his brows furrowing as he opened one eye to look at you. “Baby, what’s wrong?” His voice was raspy with sleep, but his hand instinctively reached out to stroke your hair.

“I’m awake,” you murmured, pouting. “I want my phone…”

Heeseung let out a small chuckle, still groggy but finding your early-morning whines adorable. “It’s too early, baby. You should go back to sleep.”

“But I’m awake!” you argued, though it was clear from the way you were blinking lazily that you were still exhausted. “I just wanna check the time… and maybe Heeseung notifications.”

He smirked at the mention of his name. “Oh, so you wake up early just to stalk me, huh?”

You huffed, your pout deepening. “Noooo, Hee. I just wanna see. Please?”

With a dramatic sigh, he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed your phone, handing it to you. “Okay, but only for a minute. Check the time and my notifications, then back to sleep, my little stalker.”

You took the phone eagerly, scrolling for a few seconds before Heeseung leaned over and plucked it right out of your hands again. “That’s enough,” he said firmly, placing the phone back on the table. “You’ll get carried away, and I’m not letting you stay up.”

“But—” you started, your voice trailing off into a whine.

“No buts,” he interrupted, lying back down and pulling you with him. “Come here, baby. You’re too fussy this morning.”

You pouted against his chest, squirming slightly. “I don’t wanna sleep anymore,” you grumbled. “I’m not even tired.”

Heeseung chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Not tired, huh? Then why are you yawning?” he teased, cradling your head gently.

You let out a small, defeated whimper, nuzzling into his chest as his warmth started to lull you. “I just… nothing..” you attempting to admit that you just wanted him close, your voice muffled against his shirt.

Heeseung’s heart softened instantly. “Oh, my baby,” he cooed, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back. “You just wanted attention? You could’ve told me. You know I’d give you all of it.”

You sighed, your body relaxing into his as your eyelids grew heavier. Heeseung rocked you gently, his voice low and comforting as he whispered, “Shhh, it’s okay now. You’ve got me. You’re my baby, and I’m not going anywhere. Just close those pretty eyes and sleep a little more. I’ll be right here.”

Your fussiness began to fade as his words and gentle touch soothed you completely. Within minutes, your breathing evened out, and you drifted back to sleep in his arms, feeling safe and loved.

Heeseung stayed awake for a while longer, watching over you with a soft smile. He pressed another kiss to your forehead before whispering, “Sleep well, my favourite attention-seeker. You’ll always have me.”

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whatifitis · 4 months ago

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♡ You Make Me Crazier - LN 4 ♡

Summary: this is based off this request! Lando spends most of the night playing Tarkov with Max and ends up keeping his gf awake for hours. so guess who's in a bad mood in the morning while the other is just vibing 😀

WC: 1781

CW: fluff, lando being loud (NOT IN THAT WAY PERVS), pillow tossing

Finally, the end of the season has come and the peace can begin. Lando and yourself had joined the team in celebration of Mclaren winning the constructors’. But Lando decided to leave the party quite early as he’d wanted to play some Tarkov with Max. You didn’t argue, you were pretty exhausted from such an eventful day, you were excited to hop into bed and get some much needed rest while Lando played some games.

The two of you had arrived back in your hotel room and Lando quickly pressed a kiss to your lips before letting you know he was going to play Tarkov immediately. You watched him race to the desk with his laptop. You didn’t mind him playing video games, you knew it did him some good. Tarkov was sort of a safe place for him to forget about the real world a bit and you were grateful that he had something like that. Although, you’re not sure how he finds that game peaceful as it is one of the most stressful games you know of. It’s not like Animal Crossing where you just talk to villagers and hunt and gather.

You got ready for bed, taking a nice shower to get rid of the smell from being out all day and partying. You think there was a bit of rose water still in your hair. Taking your time, you smile as you hear Lando’s laughter from the main room. It’s rare to hear it nowadays.

Once you’re ready for bed, you walk over to Lando and tap him on the shoulder, “Love, I’m going to sleep now. Don’t stay up late, we have to be at the track early tomorrow for testing. And don’t be too loud, I wanna sleep a decent amount and I don’t want another noise complaint from the hotel.” you tease.

“Alright, darling. I’ll try and keep it down and I won’t be long. Goodnight.” he says as he softly kisses you before returning to his gaming session.

You got settled into bed and closed your eyes, ready to drift into a peaceful sleep. But the universe decided you weren’t going to sleep yet as Lando could not, for the life of him, keep it down. One second he was laughing his head off and the next he was doing some sort of accent that was a mix of German and Bulgarian?

Slightly opening your eyes, you peer up at him and you silently scold him for being too noisy. You grab a small pillow off the bed and toss it in his direction, watching as it bounces off his back a bit. You can hear as he whispers “Guys, I think I fucked up.” before removing his headphones and turning to look at you, “I’m sorry, love. I’ll keep it down now, swear.”

With that statement, you flop back down and sink into the bed. Thinking you’ve successfully gotten him to quiet down, until you hear him nearly wheezing from something Max said. This went on for another few hours, each minute passing you got more annoyed. But you didn’t want to say anything because you knew that these moments were hard for Lando to get and you knew he needed this time a lot. He needed to spend time with his friends and enjoy himself. He deserved it.

So there you were, eyes dry as Oscar Piastri’s humor, mindlessly scrolling on your phone, waiting for Lando to log off for the night. You look at the clock and it was already 2 am. Your alarm was set for 7:30 am so that you could get ready and maybe eat before heading to the track. You cursed the universe and time difference, questioning what you did to deserve 5 hours of sleep.

Finally, you heard Lando tell Max that he was done for the night and that he was logging off.

Praise the lord.

Lando shut his laptop and quietly got up from his seat, turning to see you still awake and on your phone.

“I thought you were sleeping.”

“Are you for real?” you blankly stare at him.

“What?”

“You were still loud, Lan. I couldn’t sleep.”

“Why didn’t you tell me to shut up? More than once? You know I’m not a very good listener.” he jokes.

“I know. But you love being able to play Tarkov and stuff with Max and them. I didn’t want to stop you from doing that.”

“Oh, baby. Next time smack me over the head. I don’t like that I kept you up for so long.” he says, walking to sit by you on the bed.

“It’s okay, Lan. Seriously. I can still get about 5 hours of sleep.”

“That’s absolute rubbish. Why don’t you sleep in? You can meet me on the track later or you can spend the day relaxing.”

“Nah. I wanna go with you and see the car. I also wanna mock Zak cause I know he’s gonna be hungover as fuck.” you laugh.

“Fine. But I’ll make sure you get some Celsius tomorrow, even though they don’t sponsor Mclaren! Monster does. Just make sure to cover the can if there’s cameras.”

“Thanks. Now shut up so I can sleep.” you say, rolling to sleep on your side.

“Alright, we’ll sleep now. Goodnight, my love.”

“Goodnight, gorgeous.”

-=+=-

It was indeed not a goodnight. You woke up to your alarm blaring loudly in your ear. Your eyes felt as if they were glued shut, you couldn’t open them to turn off your alarm. After a few attempts of trying to find your phone with your eyes closed, you reached over to Lando and shoved him, “Lando, turn it off. If it keeps ringing, I’m gonna kick both you and the phone into a wall!”

“Damn, someone’s already in a bad mood.” Lando mutters as he reaches across your body to grab your phone and mute it.

Finally, some peace and quiet. That was, until Lando’s own alarm started going off. You were already off your rocker and his alarm sent you off the edge. He was still hovering over you and setting your phone back down so you end up “accidentally” tossing him off the bed with your eyes shut. All you heard was the thud that came from his body hitting the floor.

Lando was so thrown off. He quickly stood up with his hands on his hips as he stared down at you. “Okay, I was gonna let you off for slapping me awake and making me turn off your alarm. But that was rude! You just tossed me off the bed. Not cool, babe.”

“Your fault for keeping me up for so long. Now I’ve had about 5 hours of sleep and you’re already on my nerves.”

“Since I’m so generous, I’ll let you sleep 10 more minutes. If you don’t wake up, I’ll be rolling you off the bed.” With that, he softly kisses your head and goes and gets ready for the day.

Lando had taken a shower and gotten dressed, so it was time to awaken the beast, aka you.

He quietly walked over to your sleeping figure and sat next to you. Gently, he places a hand on your back and slowly rubs it, letting you know it had been 15 minutes and that it was time for you to wake up. He was met with an annoyed groan and a swatting away of his hand.

“Okay, wake up. If you don’t get up now, I’ll make sure all the Celsius and coffee are hidden from you today.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” you side eye him.

“Oh I would.” He smiles cheekily.

“Piss off.” you, hitting him with a pillow, causing him to dramatically flop onto the floor.

“Damn, you make me fall all the time. I’m so unbelievably in love with you.” he says, trying to flash you a cheeky smile but you were not having it. You got out of bed and locked yourself in the backroom so you could get ready for the day.

After about 4 minutes, there was a knock on the bathroom door. Through muffled sounds, you could hear your boyfriend begging to be let in, “Baby, can you let me in please. I feel so lonely and bored. I want to hug you, please. Let me in, please. Let me innn, let me innnnnnn.”

As much as he was pissing you off, you loved him too much to leave him out there alone. Plus, you were sure he was going to break something, a bone, if he’s left unsupervised for too long. Opening the door, you watched as Lando slid down the door and onto the floor. He was leaning on the door with all his weight so he didn’t land gracefully.

“Oh would you look at that? I’ve fallen for you, again!” he laughs, still you’re not having it.

You go back to doing your makeup in the mirror. You’re focused on your eyeliner when you feel something, Lando, grab your ankles. He pulls himself closer and wraps himself around your legs.

“Koala mode. Oscah mode. Mark Webbah mode.”

“Off.” you try to shake him off.

“Not until you love me again.”

“I still love you, somehow. Get off.” you try and shake him off again.

“Please. Please. PLEEEAAASSSEE” he squeals.

“Lan! Up.”

Almost as if he were a soldier being commanded, he jumped up to his feet.

“I’m sorry, babe. Really, I am. I’ll make it up to you, promise.” he says, hugging you from behind and planting soft kisses on your shoulder and neck, “I shouldn’t have stayed up for so long and yelled so much. I’ll be better, I promise. Please, forgive me.” he’s gone all soft now, truly afraid he’s messed up.

You turn in his arms to face him, “Lan, listen to me, yeah? As much as your late night gaming can annoy me, I wouldn’t change it for the world. There’s a sense of peace I feel whenever I get to hear you talk and laugh. People would claw for pieces to get that type of peace. So don’t worry. I still love you and will continue loving you. Even if it means less sleep. You still owe me a Celsius though.” you smile at him.

His heart feels like it’s surrounded by butterflies. He loved hearing how much you love him and he’s relieved that you aren’t too mad at him.

He softly connects your lips with his. He only feels happy and safe when he’s with you. So he thanks god everyday for you. He also thanks god for the fact that you can be bribed with Celsius.

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blkkizzat · 5 months ago

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🗂️—𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝟶𝟶𝟺........... THE SALARYMAN SORCERER ......filed under the that's not my jjk man series

visitor log: your sweet boyfriend, nanami kento, promised he'd come visit you tonight bunny. awe baby, don't cry, you're sure that's actually him at the door but you'll run through your checklist just to make sure, won't you?

classifications: huge crybaby!reader, bunny nickname in lieu of y/n, praise kink, an actual plot and backstory lol, dumbification, heavy dacryphillia, pet play, tights kink, raw dog, riding, breeding, manipulation, heavy cuteness aggression, slightly yandere nanami (maybe not so slight lol), angst but comfort, feelings of isolation, fluffy sweet moments of genuine romance, post-shibuya nanami (he survived with burns), burn trauma, jjk society sucks and a gojo cameo lol.

incidents: 6.1k

special shoutout to @yung-notorious who i bounced ideas off of and who had super sweet things to say about this story in general and is the reason i went so deep with this. 🥹

*knock-knock*

A firm yet familiar knock jolts you awake.

The clock reads a little past 3 am, its faint ticking the only sound filling the dimly lit stillness of your condo’s living room.

You had tried—and failed—to stay awake for Nanami. Determined to wait for him, you curled up on your cloud-like sofa with your Switch. But by 1 am, sleep had claimed you. Not even the promise of a solid turnip trade in Animal Crossing could keep your eyes open.

Yet Nanami rarely came over this late, always mindful of your sleep schedule—or lack thereof. He’d often remind you that you didn’t get enough rest anyway, and he wasn’t wrong.

One thing was certain though: Nanami had always kept his word when he’d promise to visit.

You missed Nanami terribly, only being able to see him via FaceTime for the past few days. So despite the unusual hour, a rush of excitement courses through you. Springing off the couch you practically run to the door.

But your enthusiasm is cut short. Your cozy, thigh-high-covered legs came to a screeching halt just short of answering the door. Mind racing, you think on you the exact reason why you hadn't seen your overworked boyfriend in so long.

Doppelgänger curses.

What if it wasn’t your Kento at the door?

The intrusive thought grows more persistent as silent tears begin to shimmer, pooling in your long lashes.

“Bunny, you awake, my love? I’m so sorry I’m this late, doll—I’ve missed you.” Sniffling you calm a bit hearing the familiar voice.

Well, it certainly sounded like Nanami.

“Um, y-yeah, K-Ken, m’here.”

As much as you try to hold back your sniffles, the cracks in your voice are evident as you move more cautiously this time towards the door. Fiddling with the hem of the overly large white tee you are swimming in (one of Nanami’s undershirts), you perch up on your tippy toes to reach the peephole.

Peering out into the hallway, you conclude that it certainly looks like Nanami too.

Tall, well-put together in his usual glasses, suit and tie. Not to mention ridiculously handsome, even with the burn scars that riddled half his body—they never bothered you anyway. You just want to be in his arms and have to fight the urge right then to lower the barrier and fling the door open.

“Now, now Bunny baby, don’t cry. I know it's very late but don’t be scared—you remember what you’re supposed to do now, right love?”

The checklist.

“Y-Yeah, I remember Ken—*hiccups*—but m’scared.”

You practically sob out the words, unable to control your anxious tears from rolling down your cheeks as you try to take steadier breaths.

The checklist had been Nanami’s idea, a sure fire way for you not to worry and verify it was actually him at the door. Always considerate, he was so sweet to you—even though you felt unworthy of him.

You are a sorcerer in your own right and yet your fight-or-flight response is completely fucked—you simply just freeze-up and cry.

It wasn’t entirely your fault though, growing up in a well-to-do non-sorcerer family that pampered you, keeping you sheltered from most of the world.

Not out of cruelty though, it was genuinely for your own protection.

Surprisingly, they believed you without question when you confessed to seeing spirits. From an early age, you couldn’t set foot anywhere without encountering grotesque figures clinging to people or lurking around objects. As you grew older, you came to understand that these monsters—twisted and varied in shape and size—were everywhere. They moved freely, unnoticed by anyone else, even daring to roam the streets in broad daylight without a hint of fear.

As a result, you were homeschooled. Often lonely, you found it impossible to make friends outside of your own siblings and cousins. Whenever you did meet other kids, they dismissed you as an attention-seeker—or worse, labeled you a freak—whenever your abilities to see the supernatural were revealed.

Yet at the age of 13 is when already dire matters escalated exponentially. You discovered that when frightened your cursed energy, that you knew nothing of then, would run amuck. You couldn’t control your powers, unintentionally injuring others and nearly killing one of your beloved younger cousins when they jumped out of the pantry to give you a playful scare.

After the incident you voluntarily isolated yourself even more, terrified of the world and yourself for the 6 years that followed with no contact with anyone but your immediate family. Until out of the blue, your parents would bring an Assistant Manager representative from one of the many Jujutsu schools. They gave you more insight into the curses you were seeing and promised you’d even learn to master them if you'd work for them.

You hated to leave your family but you were aware of the ever growing threat you are to them so long as you can’t control your powers.

Not to mention, the promise of meeting others like you had your heart racing with excitement, you’d almost forgotten the feeling resigning yourself to your feelings of loneliness. You thought you were completely alone but there apparently was a whole other world you weren’t aware of right in front of your face this whole time!

Unfortunately, like the many others who enter the Jujutsu world from outside families, you received a rude awakening—one that you’d learn was far more isolating than being locked away in your home as your hopes of being understood were quickly disillusioned.

Well, they understood you fine, they just don’t care.

Especially as it is made apparent quickly you were classified at the highest level.

Special grade.

Yet despite your ranking you find zero camaraderie and very little empathy as the majority of sorcerers you encountered came from generationally gifted families who regarded someone like you with either envy, annoyance or scorn as the competition. Compounded with the fact you were a certified scaredy cat despite having a power very few could compete with made you into the running joke of Jujutsu society.

Your fear crippled your ability to fully utilize your powers which was seen as weakness.

This earned you the title of ‘The Bunny Sorcerer’ or just “Bunny” for short.

It was cruel but fitting since you did startle easily, just like a little bunny rabbit. Even the presence of a weak curse, one you could crush under your shoe, sent your heart racing and your wide eyes darting around in panic.

You hated it more than anything, but you didn’t run.

Where could you even go?

You refused to put your family at risk again. They had protected you for so long, even when it meant endangering themselves. Even if this new world rejected you, at least your presence here wouldn’t jeopardize them like before.

So, you gritted your teeth and endured, swallowing the bitterness of being reduced to nothing more than a tool—a "breeding mare" to be kept alive for future use.

All for your family.

With a deep breath, you pushed the painful memories aside, exhaling slowly as you forced yourself to refocus on the present.

Things are different now though with Nanami in your corner believing in you.

“I-I remember the checklist Ken, b-but how will I know it’s really you?”

There’s a tense pause before Nanami speaks again, the fatigue edged in his tone given the late hour rationalizes the delay in your mind.

“Everything will be okay Bun, you’ll know, I promise. Just use the checklist like we practiced, doll. I believe in you.”

Clutching onto Nanami’s shirt, you nod your head despite him being unable to see it through the door.

*sniff* ”...m’kay.”

You can do this!

Nanami believed in you.

Like he always did.

From the very start of him becoming your mentor by the end of your second year in Jujutsu society.

You arrived to him as quite the pitiful little thing. Dejected and broken, you shrank yourself into being as obedient as possible. No one wanted to deal with the headache of looking after you—the three mentors in two different office locations before finally being transferred to Tokyo was proof of that.

Unceremoniously handed over to Nanami, you were to be his problem. He was to look after you until you learned to control your powers enough to be married off.

Nanami had been semi-retired since recovering from an unfortunate incident with a curse that had caused the entire left side of his body to be burned, he was lucky to keep his eye. His first real assignment back and he had to be burdened with you. Yet despite your many short-comings as a sorcerer, you were never a joke to Nanami. Nanami did not seem to mind that you had a soul far too sensitive and gentle for any real battle.

Ironically enough, you actually begin to love the nickname 'Bunny' when he calls you it. The name was always accompanied by a small endearing smile that soothed your spooked nerves, as he reassures you that he too ’finds the world a little too harsh and unpredictable at times.’

Nanami would always tell you—‘Being afraid isn't a weakness—it’s proof that you care, that you are alive and want to continue to live—that’s what we are fighting for. You just do it in your own way Bunny, don’t worry about the rest.’

With the patience that would rival a saint, Nanami never ridiculed nor expressed disappointment in your failures, they weren’t failures he would tell you—only roadblocks for you to overcome. He’d overcome his injuries, like you could overcome your fears.

And you had.

Clinging to him like a lifeline, you felt you owe the semi-normal life you live now to his support and unwavering belief in you. Over the past three years with him, you have conquered so many of your fears.

Nevertheless, it still wasn’t enough to keep this doppelgänger fiasco from regressing you back to the state you were in before meeting Nanami. Technically someone of your strength should have been out there fighting and exercising curses too.

Even though most doppels were low-level curses, their energy patterns mimicked their human counterparts, and their sheer numbers were overwhelming. The fear of making a mistake and accidentally killing a real human left you paralyzed.

The higher ups quickly decided you’d be better off waiting in quarantine, like a civilian.

For the first time in a long time you feel like a nuisance. You knew that Nanami would have to take on your burdens as he always did, now working harder than ever.

You missed Nanami terribly over the last few days so you just want this to be your sweet boyfriend so badly, but this is the first time you've had to do this.

Even with all the times you and Nanami practiced, preparing for this very moment, you still don’t know if you can go through with it.

Sniffling back tears, you steady yourself.

The first thing on the list was to check his appearance.

Starting from the top, there wasn’t even a hair out of place. Nanami looks dashing with his slicked back 7:3 salaryman style with slightly tapered sides, the density somewhat thinner on his injured left side. You bite your lip, as your gaze slides lower, his goggle glasses were the right shade and color. As well, with the exception of his scarring, his face nor body had no abnormal markings or features, just his familiar strong jawline set into a firm neutral expression.

Nanami’s clothing passed inspection too. Not a wrinkle in sight. He wears his speckled yellow print tie and nicely pressed suit, with a single brown leather glove on his left hand to protect his marred thinned skin during battles, same as always. Nanami, although often worn by the end of the day, always kept a neat, well put-together appearance.

“Well, my love?”

The small smile that edges his lips makes you bounce on your toes and you can’t wait to let him in and jump into his arms but you know you still have one more set of checks to be done.

“You passed, Ken.. but mmm, we’re not done yet! N-Next are the questions!”

You hear Nanami lightly chuckle at the door clearly finding your nervous determination to correctly identify him endearing.

And just as you were hoping for, Nanami passes the questions with flying colors too.

“Alright doll, are you satisfied that it’s me? May I come in now?”

Chewing on the nail of your thumb you don’t know why you are still wavering.

He’d answered all the questions right and his appearance was flawless from what you could tell.

However something just didn’t feel right and a renewed panic shoots down your spine.

“Um, IDK… Ken, I-I want it to be you and I think it's you…b-but…”

Looking away, you pressed your forehead against the door unsure of what to do next.

“Don’t think too hard now about it Bunny, you’ll start second guessing yourself again.”

Nanami answered all the questions correctly, just as the real Nanami would.

So why couldn’t you shake this feeling of something being off?

You whimper as you just want to hold him and look up into his soft brown—and it dawned on you.

His eyes!

“T-Take off your glasses, Ken.”

A heavy silence follows, longer and far more tense than the one before.

“S-Show me your eyes Kento…please? T-Then I’ll believe it's you, then I’ll let you in. I promise!”

You're desperate to see his warm hazel eyes, even if they were strained with an exerted tinge of red—it was the final thing you needed to calm your worried heart and know for sure.

You’d spent so much time gazing up into them, there's no way even the most perfect clone could duplicate them for you.

“Now, my Bunny…”

Nanami’s tone shifted, turning cold and devoid of the usual warmth—a chilling, almost menacing edge that wrecked shivers down your spine, as if the person speaking wasn’t him at all.

“...why would you ask that of me? Open the door for me lil’ Bunny. I’m beginning to lose my patience with you.”

Nanami? Losing his patience…?

Your brows furrowed as the ominous tension hits you like a pound of bricks, the cracks in the doppelgänger's facade rapidly crumbling away.

Swallowing a hard lump, you have to confirm it with your own eyes.

“S-Show me!”

Nanami just chuckles, removing his glasses to reveal himself as a doppelgänger with two pitch-black holes oozing thick, dark fluid where his gentle brown eyes should be. The doppel hears your sobs through the door, and you stumble back, falling on your ass as the door frame trembles from the curse rattling against the barrier.

The curse was strong, stronger than normal reportings and before you knew it the door flew open, almost completely off the hinges. However it wasn’t enough to break your barrier and have them enter.

“Heh, didn’t think you would suspect me at all—dealing with someone as weak-minded as you.”

Fear wrecks through your body as the words coming from the clone sound more distorted and monstrous than ever.

“Now when I do get in there, you’re really going to regret it—you pathetic sniveling skinbag. I think I’ll peel it off you slowly, skin you just like a little rabbit, Bunny. Would you like to be my meal?”

Tears spill freely now, your bleary eyes blinking against the steady flow. Yet, for the first time, the emotion rising in your chest isn’t just fear—it’s anger. Raw and undeniable.

This disgusting curse really had the audacity to mimic your precious Nanami!

Resolute, your legs shake like a newborn fawn yet you still manage to draw yourself to your feet. Your eyes are closed, screwed shut as you attempt to drown out its taunts and provocations. But you can still sense it before you, which was good because you didn’t want to have to look at the grotesque form of the person who meant the most to you any longer than you had to.

“Awe, did I upset the wittle Bunny?”

The doppelgänger's voice returned to a pitch similar to Nanami's, making a mockery of the both of you further before his voice turned more twisted than ever.

“Because I guarantee the huge disappointment you are is even more upsetting to the real Nanami.”

“No, that’s not true! The real Nanami would never say that!”

Sparks dance at your fingertips as you concentrate, pouring your energy into the barrier. You have the strength, but his cutting insults and the relentless pounding against the shield gnaw at your focus. Doubt creeps in, and your energy falters, flickering as you fight to hold onto your resolve.

Come on girl, get it together now!

Just as Nanami taught you, you steady your mind with slow, deliberate breaths, shutting out the doppelgänger’s cruel taunts. The deep, calming flow of air through the back of your throat soothes your heart, which had been pounding like a drum, and sends a surge of energy coursing through your veins. With each exhale, your power gathers—stronger, sharper, and more focused than before.

Yet, as your eyes finally open and you ready yourself to unleash your ability, the doppelgänger is suddenly silenced. Going mute before a choked gurgle escapes its lips before its head splits into pieces—cut down by Nanami’s precise ratio technique.

The new Nanami that appears before you immediately removes his glasses, and when you meet his soft hazel eyes, they’re exactly as you remembered: gentle, tender, and reassuring.

There’s no doubt about!

He’s the real deal—he’s your Nanami!

Instantly dropping the barrier, Nanami catches you as you leap into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Evening Bunny, my heart.”

Hearing the words coming from him, the actual Nanami, has you falling apart in his arms ugly crying into his chest with happiness and relief.

But your tears could never be ugly to the real Nanami, who holds you tighter as he coos how proud he is of you and how he’s so sorry for being late and leaving you all alone for so long.

ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩

The fact stands, Nanami finds immense beauty in your tears.

And although he has never failed to pronounce your beauty no matter how much of a distressed state you were in, the direct affection for your cries isn’t something he’d ever elaborate on.

Nanami is terrified of what he might say.

The underlying truth being that you awoke a ferociously strong lust in the form of cuteness aggression whenever Nanami saw even the tiniest bit of wetness dew on your lids.

“HAA! D-Daddy, D-Daddy puhlease! I-I cannnnnnn’t!”

However, the flowing tears that Nanami could pull from your sweet puffy eyes while you so dutifully bounce on his cock are definitely his favorite.

Once in his arms you had pulled him down to the floor, ripping off all his clothes as the rush of varying emotions had gone straight to your pussy. And of course, you being the perfect peach you were for him, volunteered to ride him—without a condom—for the first time.

You claimed you wanted to feel all of the him inside you, no more barriers between the two of you.

Nanami certainly is more than happy to oblige you as always.

Mounting him, your manicured nails find purchase on his solid abdominals for leverage, assisting your feet planted on the ground as you bounced—much like an actual bunny—on his cock, feeling the pulse of every vein dragging along your walls.

This was another reason loved to call you Bunny as you certainly wanted to fuck like one.

“Hm? Wasn’t it you? My slutty doll, who begged to ride me though, pet?”

Your pretty mewls of protest only make him harder as your gooey cunt quivers when he refers to you as his ‘pet’.

A soft girl to the core despite the strength you possess, you loved the way Nanami claimed you by calling you his pet. There was a comforting simplicity in it—no expectations, no pressure to be anything but yourself.

Just the quiet assurance that he would care for you, exactly as you are.

This was evident by all the affection he would shower you with daily as well as the pretty pink leather collar with a hollow rose gold heart that said “Bunny” in matching rose gold cursive. You'd been wearing it this entire time, wanting to greet him at the door with it on.

“You can Bunny. How many times must I tell you, my love? This is what you were waiting for, yes? Having the nerve to play with my pussy before I came home—you weren't even wearing panties under my shirt, pet.”

By now Nanami's shirt has been long discarded from your body. You are completely bare save for the thick leg warmers digging into your plush thighs and your collar twinkling in the dim living room lighting.

You knew exactly what you were doing too, fully aware of how much he loved seeing you in his oversized undershirt. The material, drenched in the musk from a hard day's work, hung loosely over you, draping your curves perfectly to tease and captivate.

You were deadly to him.

In combination with the tights you wear revealing just a fleeting silver of skin with each subtle step ignited a feral dominating urge Nanami otherwise tried to keep in check. A guaranteed way for your pussy to end up stuffed and your ass spanked as he folded you over the nearest piece of furniture.

It goes without saying you wouldn’t greet him after so long wearing anything else—you even naughtily played with your pussy earlier so you'd could have him inside of you as we walked through the door.

Likewise, you know the dedicated efforts you exert now that has sweat glistening off your jiggling tits, core muscles clenching for stability and leaves you panting, pleases him to watch as well.

Nanami grins lovingly at your labors, he is convince you have to be a masochist at heart. As big of a scaredy cat as you are, you rarely ever run from his cock.

Even now when the force needed to bully his thickness into your slick pussy over and over had your tongue lolling out and your eyes lodged deep into the back of your skull murmuring gibberish.

You’d easily fuck yourself dumb for him.

You still persist, even when it feels like his immense girth might split you into two from the intensity of your pleasure. Being with Nanami is the first time since entering the Jujutsu world where you didn’t feel alone, where someone didn’t mock or ridicule you or expect you to be a tool for their benefit.

So you’d push through for him, through anything.

Even though your stomach flutters with butterflies full of uneasy anticipation every time you’d plead with your burning thighs to lift you once more—knowing soon the laws of gravity would prevail and you'll have the very wind knocked out of you when your cervix slams down hard onto his portly tip.

“Always such a sweet slutty girl for me, my love…”

One of his hands strokes your calf encouragingly while the other runs along the bend in your knee, briefly toying with the hem of fabric at your thighs, before resting on your belly. Nanami is too enthralled by the way your stomach bulges and deflates again, his cock scraping along your gummy walls making a complete mess of you.

“....Can you feel me here too, pet?”

When Nanami hands dip into the soft rolls of your tummy just below your navel it’s intentional and directly over your g spot. Your nails dig into his abdominals as you sew your eyes shut. You're oh so close to cumming and you want to milk Nanami’s cock, twitching against your womb, for all its worth.

“K—HNN!”

“What was that? Speak up my love, or I won’t be able to hear you over your pretty crybaby pussy, you aren’t going to let her be louder than you, hm?”

Nanami gifts your ass with a firm open palmed smack.

“HAAA—MMMMN—Not f-fair K-Knghh!”

The creamy squelching of your pussy threatens to cry even louder as you continuously impale yourself on his cock. You pout crying through barely intelligible complaints but your lustful hips never stop, no matter how much they ache from spreading wide across his broad pelvis.

You could barely think, let alone form words so if your pussy wanted to speak up for you in this case, you’d let her. You were too busy trying to remember to breathe, spittle depositing on the sides of your lips from the way you swore you had somehow pushed Nanami’s long dick all the up up into your ribcage.

His big strong hand cups your cheek, thumb gently swiping through your tears and sweat as Nanami encourages you to keep going for him. The act seems so lovingly selfless but truly it’s to push the strands of hair away from covering your face so Nanami could see your wild tears unhindered.

Nanami understands quite well how twisted it is of him to get off on your tears to the extent he does. That said, it’s those moments of softness, when you are at your most fragile and desperate, are the ones he cherished above all others.

Those were the moments you only look to him.

You not only made Nanami feel wanted—you made him feel needed.

Truthfully, even now he felt as if he was undeserving of all your perfection. It was clear, you were a diamond in the rough. Beautiful, strong, and a rather sweet and friendly disposition once you felt comfortable enough in your surroundings to open up. Not to mention you had youth on your side, just barely reaching your mid-twenties while Nanami was well into his thirties.

Aging and horrifically disfigured on his left side, he had long resigned himself to solitude even before his disfigurement. Nanami being the consummate workaholic salaryman of Jujutsu society, he already had no life beyond his job responsibilities.

Pathetically, even in his rare moments of daydreaming—imagining the soft beaches of Malaysia he had more than enough vacation days accrued to visit—he walked those sandy shores alone in his mind.

Nanami, if anything, was a realist. He knew he might as well be a curse among regular civilians given his appearance now. He pretends even now not to notice the double take stares or whispers, the looks from sympathy to pure horror.

So it's no surprise Nanami never dared to consider anything other than his reality.

Until you came along and changed that.

“MNNNN K-KEN—M’GONNACUMM’GONNACUM!”

Your words slur as your ass slams down in his lap with more fervor. The increase in friction of your clit against his pubic bone causes your squirt along with the milky fluids at the base of his shaft to gush everywhere. Your arousals soil his torso and causes your soggy tights to slouch around your thighs.

Your hands lose traction in the mess you made on Nanami's taut stomach, the muscles flexing and quivering from your frantic slippery gropes at his flesh. Nanami's balls grow more sore with every impact of your flesh rippling together. His sack is so eager to release the viscous surge of syrupy white fluids he’d built up in his absence.

Completely on autopilot, his words barely register. It isn’t until Nanami’s voice cracks, repeating himself twice more, that his words finally break through the haze of ecstasy clouding your mind.

“HAAA—Can’t stawppp—FFFFUH—jus’ put it in m’tummy d-daddy!”

As if on the command of your words and spasming cunt reaching its spine-tingling nirvana, he does just that. Grunting loudly and throwing his head back, Nanami almost chokes on his own spit from how tight a hold your filthy pussy has on him when the geyser in his loins suddenly bursts, sloshing inside you.

A keen cry slips from your lips at the feeling of his hot cum swirling in your womb, marking you. Nanami fills your pussy to absolute capacity until dribbles of cum trickle out of your hole. As your adrenaline breaks its crest you can now feel the arches of your feet screaming at you as your legs can no longer support yourself. Exhausted you fall forward onto his bare sweat-slicked chest, your mission finally complete.

Nanami too for a moment feels sated. However as soon as you caught your breath you just had to peer up from his chest to bashfully give him a small innocent smile like you weren’t just brazenly riding his dick like a starved cockhungry whore.

“Missed you, Ken.”

You whimpered softly, pressing a tender kiss to the scarred skin over his heart before resting your cheek there. Your heart-eyed gaze locks with his, unwavering and full of loving devotion.

Fuck.

Something snaps and a tyrannical urge tingles on the tip of Nanami's every nerve, ignited by sweet adorable nature.

Pulling you into a kiss you Nanami as he wholly devours you, not allowing you rest. The taste of your slobbering moans into his mouth are simply addicting and he could spend hours teasing and suckling on your cute little tongue if you’d allow him.

Rolling you under him and onto your back in a mating press, you mewl at the electricity shooting through your cunt upon his length swelling again. This position makes it easy for his cock to restretch your sloppy spongy core he thrusts slow and deep into you.

Your hands instantly push against his hips, squirming while trying to prevent him from disturbing your still spasming womb.

Yet Nanami was having none of it. Restraining both your hands in one of his own overhead.

“I know my pretty pussy isn’t acting all scared of cock now? Not after the way she greedily drained me and gobbled up my seed.”

Now was Nanami’s turn to savor every part of you.

There’s fresh sobs that spill down your puffy face again when his cockhead roughly prods into your cervix.

“T-That’s it, let em all out—HAAA—Show Daddy how much that crybaby pussy loves getting slutted out, pet,”

Nanami's words amplify the quivering of your cunt with each new thrust spurring his hips to slam back into yours. The slick moisture on his balls causes a harsh sting every time they slap against your ass and encourages him to go faster, increasing your tears and pleasure.

Getting off on you being his tight wet little fleshlight, Nanami considers if he's still too twisted to be with you.

Had the burns from the incineration of half his body seared him so severely it sullied his very soul into the sadistic form it is now?

The truth lies in the withheld secret that Nanami had, in fact, stalked his own doppelgänger, following it all the way to your high-rise condo. He could have stopped the creature long before it ever reached your door. However his own darkness—slimy and sadistic—held him back.

A part of him feels ashamed, guilty for standing by and allowing your tears when he could have prevented them. But he did truly believe in you. Nanami was knew you were far stronger than you gave yourself credit for, and, in his own flawed way, he wanted to show you that strength.

You could have easily blasted his doppelganger curse to hell, yet Nanami wasn’t such a beast he'd traumatize you by making you harm something that looked so much like him.

No, he only truly enjoyed your tears when you were under him like this, so drunk off his cock you’d forget about any other fear.

"K-K-FUH—NNN!"

Your hands are still above your head as Nanami continues to pound you like a madman. Your mouth gapes open to wordless cries that beg him to let you cum. The lewd gurgles and slurps from your pussy wringing out his cock echo in your ears—she's sobbing enough for the both of you and it’s mozart to Nanami’s ears.

Honestly, Nanami never wanted to be apart from you that long ever again.

It’s In that moment, deep in your guts as your ecstasy renders you dumb, chest arching up like a beacon. Nanami realizes that your presence is as essential to his existence as the sun itself.

You are his sun.

Your warmth is more comforting, tempering his traumas and offering a soothing peace he never imagined was possible. The tranquility he envisions, basking in under golden rays, only matter if you’re beside him sharing in that serenity.

Now when Nanami pictures himself walking carefree along sandy shores in his mind's eye, you’re there with him, hand in hand.

The thought of you being married off to some ancient sorcerer clan, destined for mistreatment, fills him with a quiet rage. He’d die before allowing that to happen.

No—he would make you his. Forever.

Because now, the idea of a life without you feels unbearable and from the desperate way you creamed on him as if his cum was sustenance for your needy succubus pussy let’s him know you feel the same way even if you can't verbalize it in the moment.

Nanami had known how you felt ever since the day you first met Gojo. He’d managed to keep you off Gojo’s radar for 4 months, but hiding you forever was impossible. When you finally crossed paths, Gojo, ever the smarmy jester, wasted no time teasing and flirting with you relentlessly, despite your timid nature.

Yet things had taken an unexpected turn when Gojo casually suggested that a sorcerer of your grade should train with him instead. Nanami stood next to you stoically, his face in a hard line. He knew Gojo wasn’t entirely wrong—you likely would progress faster under his tutelage even though he'd likely terrorize your nerves in the process. With Gojo, you wouldn’t have to endure training sessions cut short by Nanami’s bouts of phantom pain or the constant disruptions caused by the unpredictable chills and sweats that had plagued him since losing the ability to regulate half his body temperature.

Still, neither of them could have anticipated your reaction.

The moment Gojo made the suggestion, fat tears brimmed in your eyes, spilling over in seconds. Nanami’s heart shattered into pieces as your small fist clung desperately to sleeve like a lifeline. Your plump bottom lip trembled, and when you finally spoke, your dejected voice was so soft it was barely more than a whisper.

“You're going to get rid of me too, Nanami?”

The question came out more like a statement, like you'd expected him to eventually. It's in that instant that the damn Nanami’s carefully restrained feelings broke. His heart ached with a deeper affection he could no longer deny. Gojo, for his part, immediately backed off, though he made it a point to tease Nanami mercilessly afterward.

“Your little crybaby bunny got so upset thinking I’d steal them away.”

Frankly, as long as Gojo left you alone, Nanami didn’t care what the hell he said nor anyone said or did. All that mattered was you staying by his side.

Nanami decides he's had enough as a new clarity washes over him.

Fuck these doppelgangers.

Fuck his job.

And most importantly?

Fuck the Jujutsu world.

Nanami knew Gojo had been dicking around for whatever reason when they should have been rid of these doppelgangers long before this point. However, Nanami couldn’t bring himself to care anymore, refusing to be apart from you working himself to the bone if Gojo was also not taking this seriously.

For the first-time in his career as as sorcerer—Nanami is taking a vacation.

He's booking 2 first-class tickets to Malaysia—tomorrow.

“Bunny, we’ll have to get you a new collar, my pet. Wouldn’t want the metal to heat up too much on the beach and scar your perfect skin.”

Wha? A beach?

"Hnnn—m'kay K-Ken..."

Agreeing to anything, you're reduced to goo from the way Nanami has been tearing through your guts like he was in a trance.

You have zero clue what Nanami is talking about.

However, that's probably for the best to be honest.

Otherwise the amount of nervous, apprehensive tears that would leak from your eyes upon learning his plans to bust your pussy wide open like a coconut over and over on a public beach of all places would surely have earned you three more rounds.

......RESULT: PASSED 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚏𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘! 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝙽𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚒—𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚗𝚎-𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝙼𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚊. 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢, 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍. 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔—𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚙𝚕𝚎. 𝙽𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚒 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚐𝚞𝚝𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚠��𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍.

that's not my jjk man series (visit series page for full animation)

lmk what you think~!

comment and reblog! next up a no-nut-nov multific!

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