#i met a guy whos been to two shows i have and i got his insta n like

[whatifitis]

♡ for the better - OP 81 ♡

Summary: for the first time in your life, you were happy. you were loved. and now the person who loves you, may grow to resent you.

WC: 3318

CW: fluff, angst, spiraling a bit, not proofread

It started off as just being friends. A group of you were brought together by an interest you all had in common. But you two had managed to grow a special connection over the course of a month. It started as just a silent adventure between the two of you. Taking a walk together in the park, not talking, just enjoying the comfortable silence. Each walk in the park, he began to grow more comfortable and confident around you. He started picking flowers each walk, to tuck into your hair. He started to ask you more questions, to get to know you. 

One day, he stopped to look at you and said “Do you wanna go out?” with a shy smile.

You smiled brightly at him “Yeah, I'd love to.”

Your first date was something you’d never experienced. No one had ever put so much effort into you. He had set up a little picnic at the park you two frequented. There was a light green (your favorite color), checkered blanket on the ground. A top the blanket sat a picnic basket, packed with your favorite snacks, 2 painting canvases, paint brushes and some paints. To say you were overwhelmed would be an understatement. His simple actions meant so much to you. You never thought someone would be able to care for you as he did. 

He knelt down onto the blanket and reached out a hand, inviting you to sit by him. You took his hand and sat across from him. 

“This is so incredibly sweet. You didn’t have to go all out, I mean, it’s just me. It’s not like the Queen is coming… right?” you’d asked with a giggle.

He gave you a toothy grin and said “No, no, the Queen isn't coming. This is all for you. I tried to think of the best thing to do for a first date with you. You’re so amazing, I didn’t want to disappoint.”

“You could never disappoint me.” 

With that, you two began to eat the contents of the picnic basket. Both of you laughed and smiled, talking about the craziest things. One question that got you two riled up a bit was whether sprinkles were a seasoning. Who would’ve thought two people could debate for so long on the subject. But you had fun. 

Once the two of you had finished eating, you and Oscar began to paint each other. As you guys painted, loving glances were exchanged between you two. 

When you two had both finished painting, you took turns showing each other your works. 

“Alright,” Oscar started “Countdown from 3 and I’ll show you the masterpiece that I’ve just created, alright?”

“Alright, ready? 3, 2, ,1….” 

You burst out laughing at the sight of what you’ve been shown.

Oscar furrows his brows but can’t hide his smile “What? What’s so funny? It’s good!” he insists.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” you try to say through your laughing fit “but that’s so bad. I mean, what happened to my eyes? They look wonky, they’re 2 completely different sizes.”

“Well excuse me, Misses I have an art degree so I can tell people their blood, sweat and tears result in absolute shit.” he laughs with you.

“Come on, let’s see your supposed “masterpiece” now.” Oscar said.

You turn your canvas around and smile brightly at him. 

He’s stunned. He’s speechless. He’s ashamed of his painting of you. 

“Love, I- HOLY SHIT! This is amazing, baby! Oh my god we have to hang it up somewhere. My house, your house, a museum, the Met, THE LOUVRE.”

You’re laughing again, wiping the tears from your face. 

“It’s just a painting Oscar, it’s alright, no need to hang it anywhere. Especially not a museum darling.”

“Wrong. I’m keeping this and hanging it up at home.”

“Whatever you want, my love” you said, smiling fondly at him.

-=+=- 

One day, you and Oscar are chilling in the park. Oscar laying back on his arms while you lay your head across his stomach. The two of you sit, making idle conversation with each other for a few hours. 

“Y/n?” Oscar says, looking down at you. 

“Oscar?”

“I don’t want to lose you. I hope this never ends. I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

You sit up to look him in the eyes properly.

“What’s going on? Why are you saying this?”

“I’m just in my feelings. But I’m serious, I love you Y/n. I love this feeling I get when I’m with you. I don’t know the word for it, or if there even is a word for it. But I know I always want to feel this way. You mean more to me than life, darling.” 

Your nose feels fuzzy, tears are forming in your eyes. You grab his hand and squeeze it three times. 

You give him a smile, “I love you, Oscar. You don’t know what you mean to me. Everything you’ve done for me, it means so fucking much. If I ever lose you, I don’t think I’d be able to live. Thank you, my love.” 

You two share a kiss. It’s soft and gentle, but at the same time, it feels urgent. You feel like you can’t stop, like you can’t let go, cause if you do, it’ll slip away. But you don’t, and you won’t. You’ll hold onto each other until your last dying breaths. Possibly even past death, you’ll have each other. 

-=+=-

“Has anyone seen Oscar?” You ask for what feels like the millionth time. 

Oscar has been missing for half an hour and no one can find him. He’s meant to be on the track in 15 minutes but he’s not answering his phone. 

You’ve been running around the paddock like a maniac, calling out his name. You don't have long til all the drivers are meant to be out on the paddock for the national anthem. 

You’re sprinting down the halls when something catches her eye. You stop and look to see a figure pacing back and forth in a dark corner. You know exactly who it is. 

You begin walking towards Oscar and stop 4 feet away from him. He’s too in his head to notice anyone is near him, so he keeps pacing with his head down. You walk to him, and grab both his hands in yours. You press your intertwined hands into his chest to try and ground him. 

Oscar is startled at first but once he sees it’s you, his face falls and he lets go of the tears he’s been holding. 

You immediately pull him into your arms, wrapping them around his neck and scratching the back of his neck softly. His arms wrap around your face and he nuzzles his face into your neck. You let him cry it out for a minute before speaking.

“Darling, what’s wrong?”

He sniffles as he says “Panic attack I think.”

“Do you know what brought this on?”

“I think I’m just tired. We’ve been working for so long, going from place to place every week. I just don’t think I’m performing as well as I should be. I’m not as put together and the fans have noticed. I hate letting them down and I just don’t know how to fix everything.”

“Baby,” you say as you grab the side of his face gently, wiping away some of his tears “The fans understand. You said it yourself, you guys have been put through the ringer as of late, especially with all the crazy regulations the FIA created. They know this and understand if you’re not as aggressive and calm as usual. You need to stop putting yourself down like this, love. Things happen, so we just have to manage.” 

“I know, but it’s hard. A lot of them travel from so far away just to see these races. They’re buying tickets, booking hotels and flights, just to watch us be the best. All for me to go up there and be a disappointment.”

“Hey, no. You’re not a disappointment, Oscar. You’re anything but that. You’re stubborn, stupid at times, and mental. But you’re not a disappointment. And I love you because of all that, okay?”

“Okay” he says, giving you a shy smile. 

“Alright, let’s get you cleaned up and on the track for everyone to see your talents.” 

“Thank you, baby, for everything. I don’t deserve you.” 

“No need to thank me baby. If anyone is undeserving of the other, it’s me. I don’t know what I did to be able to have you in my life.”

With a quick kiss, you two set off to the Mclaren garage to help Oscar freshen up for the race. 

-=+=-

“Darling I told you, I can’t go. I’ve gotta meet Mark and some other guys. We have so much to do before we even think about renewing the contract. I don’t have time for this.” Oscar said whilst putting his shoes on.

“I asked you weeks ago if you could come. And you’d said yes. We’ve had this planned for ages. You can’t just dump our plans.”

“I can if it’s for work. This is something that I can’t ignore. This is my job. The thing I’ve been working towards my whole life. I have to get this stuff done.”

“You’ve been away from home every night for the past month. And you’re telling me you can’t just take one night off? Is that much more important than one night with your girlfriend?”

At this, Oscar stops and his face drops. He didn’t realize how you might have felt, that you’d felt like you came second. He realizes his neglect towards you and your feelings. He walks to you and holds your hands in his. 

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I’ve been treating you like shit, not taking into account how you feel. I’ll do better, I promise. I’ll call Mark and cancel.” 

“No, Oscar. It’s okay. Go to the meeting.” you say softly. 

“No, no. we’re gonna do what we planned.” he says, pulling his phone from his pocket while simultaneously taking his shoes off. 

“Baby, you don’t have to. I was just a little upset. I’m okay now, you can go.”

“No, go get ready. I’ll call Mark, then we can go out like we planned.” he smiles at you, trying to make you feel better. 

“Are you sure? I’m fine with postponing. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal, you were hurt. We’re going, end of discussion.” he said as he kissed your head. 

That night, the two of you went out as you’d planned. You went and had lunch at a new restaurant you had been raving about to Oscar. He was happy to take you and was pleasantly surprised when the food turned out to be the best he’s ever had (of course not as good as your cooking). 

After lunch, the two of you took a walk in the park. You and Oscar walked hand in hand for ages. Enjoying the quiet breeze and the warming sun. During your walk, you two had discussed the origin of the argument that took place earlier and worked your way through it. With some compromising, you two felt better about the result of said argument. 

After your afternoon walk, you and Oscar headed home where he showed you exactly how sorry he was. And he didn’t use just his words. 

-=+=-

He’d been planning this for ages. Tonight was the night he’d ask to be yours forever. He’s been in love with you for ages. He can’t think of a better time to do this. 

“Baby? You ready to go?” Oscar asked you from the front door. 

“One second darling. I can’t get this shoe on.” 

“Do you need help?”

“No baby, I got it.” you said as you walked up to him. He’s never seen something so beautiful. You’re standing there in your favorite dress, some pieces of jewelry and a simple pair of heels. 

Oscar holds his hand out to you, and you immediately grab it, kissing him before walking out the door with him right behind you. 

-=+=- 

The two of you enjoy a nice dinner at a restaurant you and Oscar frequented. It was so nice to get out of the house and spend some time with Oscar. You’ve missed him a lot since he’s been away for work, but it’s what he loves to do. And you love seeing him happy. 

After dinner, the two of you take a walk in your favorite park. Walking, hand in hand, you ask Oscar “What do you think the meaning of life is?”

“42” he says laughing to himself.

“I’m being serious,” you laugh with him “what do you think it is?”

“I think it’s whatever you want it to be. It can be to find the end of space. It can be to find out where the megalodon went. It can be about finding the love of your life, your soulmate…. speaking of which.”

He stops where he is, moving to stand face to face with you and grabbing both your hands in his. 

oh shit

“Y/n, I have loved you for a long, long time. I’m not gonna lie and say it was love at first sight cause, ya know, that’s kind of crazy. But I will tell you that the second I laid my eyes on you, I was enchanted by you. And I was really hoping you weren’t in love with someone else, hoping you didn’t have someone waiting on you. Since the day we met, there was never a day where I didn’t think about you. I love you Y/n, so fucking much.”

He gets down on one knee while pulling a box from his pants pocket. He holds the box in both hands, presenting it to you and opening it. Inside was the most beautiful ring you had ever seen. He knew you weren’t a fan of traditional engagement rings that had a huge stone on the top. He knew you loved the rings that looked as if they were created in a magical land, far far away, crafted by the most powerful jewelers of the land. 

“Y/n L/n, will you do me the honor of allowing me to be your husband?”

You stood there motionless with your hands covering your mouth that had been hanging open since he began his speech. Tears were streaming down your face. You couldn’t believe it. He actually want to marry you? He loves you that much? How did you get so lucky to find your person?

“Are you sure? Like really sure?” you’d said.

“Yes I’m really sure darling. You are the love of my life. I want to spend forever with you.” 

Tears are streaming down his face too. The anticipation is killing him. 

“Yes. Yes, I want to marry you too.” you finally say.

“Oh my god! I love you so much darling, thank you so much.” he said as he began to stand up. 

Once he was standing straight up, he pulled the ring out of the box and put it in your ring finger. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around your hips and pulled you impossibly closer. Neither of you stopped or let go for ages. You guys were it for each other. There would never be anyone else. 

-=+=-

it’s for the better 

i know it’s for the better

it’s for the better

You were pacing the living room that you shared with Oscar. Your bags were already packed and in the car. 

You couldn’t let Oscar go through with this. You couldn’t let him do this to himself. He deserves to marry someone better. Better than you. You love him so much, but you weren’t enough for him. You didn’t want to bring Oscar down with you.

You continued pacing the living room, waiting for him to come back home. You feel so sick like you could throw up. Your heart is racing and your hands are shaking. You didn’t want to let him go, but it would be selfish to hold onto him, when he could do a lot better than you. 

The sound of the front door caught your attention. Oscar was home. You stood there in the middle of the living room, fighting your hands.

“Darling, I’m home.” he’d called out from the front entrance.

He walked into the living room to see you standing there, pain and sadness written all over your face. 

“Hey darling, what’s wrong? Is everything okay?” he said as he walked to you. 

“We need to talk.”

“Alright, what’s going on?”

You took a moment, trying to find the strength to say it. 

“We- need to break up.”

“What? Why? Did something happen?”

“No, I just think it will be best for the both of us.” 

“You’re confusing me darling, what do you mean “better for the both of us?”’

“I mean, you deserve something better. Someone better. I can’t be that for you. I can’t give you everything you deserve. I love you too much to hold you back. So I’m letting you go. I’ve already got everything packed, I’ll be going.”

“What? No. No, we’re not breaking up. Y/n, I love you. I don’t want to lose you. You’re it for me. I don’t want anyone else. You’re what’s best for me. You’re what I want. You give me everything I could ever need or want. There’s no one I’d rather be with.”

A tear slips loose and runs down your cheek. 

“I’m sorry, Oscar. But I have to let you go. You’ll be miserable if you stay with me. I need you to be happy, even if it’s without me. I’ll always be there to support you for everything. I just can’t be the one right next to you, with you. I won’t let you do this to yourself. Goodbye, Oscar.”

You begin to walk out the door as Oscar starts to plead, asking you to stay. 

“Y/n, please don’t go. If you need some space and time to think then I’ll give that to you. You can stay here and I’ll stay with Lando or something. We can get through this, darling.”

You kept walking out the door, towards your car. Oscar was running after you. As you began to get into the car, Oscar ran up to the window to try and convince you to stop.

“Baby, please talk to me.”

He’s crying now. Tears upon tears were streaming down his face. He was begging you.

“Baby, please. If it was something that I said or did then I’ll fix it. I promise, I’ll fix everything. Just please don’t go. I need you.”

“Oscar, please let go.” you say weakly. “You have to let me go.”

“No. I won’t. I don’t want to live without you. I can’t live without you. Please don’t go.”

“I’m sorry”

And with that, you put the car in drive and made your way out of the driveway of your once shared home. You didn’t have the strength to look in the rear view mirror. You didn’t have the strength to see him. 

-=+=-

Once you got to the hotel room you had booked for the week, you dropped your bags and just started sobbing. You can’t believe you let him go. You already regret it but he does deserve better. So much better than you. He’ll find someone. You know it. 

You can wish all you want, but it won’t bring you two together. 

All you can do is repeat the same things over and over, trying to convince yourself that…

it’s for the better

it’s for the better

it’s for the

for the better

i know it’s for the better

know for it’s the better

for the better

the better.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Family addition

Heyy guys, I hope you enjoy this Lando (stepbrother) x reader, let me know if you want a part 2 :)

If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.

Everything was perfect. I was studying journalism at one of the best universities in the country. I had a close-knit group of friends I could always count on—Friday night dinners, spontaneous road trips, endless inside jokes. And I had Daniel. Tall, soft-spoken, impossibly kind. My boyfriend for nearly two years.

Life had fallen into place in a way that felt safe. Predictable. Good. Until Mom decided to start dating again.

Now, I wasn’t some heartless daughter who didn’t want her mother to be happy. My dad passed away three years ago, and I had made peace with it—some days more than others. But I knew she deserved to smile again, to fall in love if she wanted to.

And then came him.

Adam was nice. Too nice, actually. The kind of guy who laughed at his own bad jokes and remembered my favourite dessert after just one dinner. I couldn’t hate him if I tried. But his son? That was another story entirely.

Lando. Lando freaking Norris.

First time I met him, he sauntered into the house with his messy hair and cocky grin like he owned the place. He tossed his car keys on the counter, gave me a once-over that lingered a little too long, and said, “So you’re the golden child?”

I hated him immediately.

He was infuriating. Loud, arrogant, and far too aware of his own charm. He teased me every chance he got—poking fun at my serious nature, rolling his eyes when I had a book in my hand instead of a beer, and constantly referring to me as princess in that smug tone that made me want to throw something at his head.

“You know, not everyone finds journalism interesting,” he said one afternoon, leaning against the kitchen counter, eating the last piece of the cake I’d specifically labeled as mine. “But I guess someone has to write about the weather.”

“I guess someone has to be a walking cliché of a spoiled boy with a sports car,” I shot back.

He just winked at me. “You noticed the car? I’m flattered.”

Ugh.

It didn’t help that he was… attractive. In a rugged, annoying, irritating way. And worse—he knew it. The tension between us wasn’t just anger, and we both knew it. But acknowledging that would be dangerous. It would mean admitting that part of me noticed the way his eyes sparkled when he was making fun of me. Or the way he smelled like expensive cologne and trouble. Or the way my heart raced when we fought.

No. This was war. Lando Norris was now my stepbrother, and I was determined to keep my perfect life from turning into a complete disaster.

Mom insisted on having a “family dinner” once a week ever since the engagement, which basically meant me gritting my teeth across the table from Lando while he found new and creative ways to drive me insane.

This time, he showed up late. Of course.

“You’re twenty minutes late,” I muttered under my breath as he walked in, dressed like he’d just stepped off a yacht. White shirt, sleeves rolled up, and that same smirk that made me want to scream.

He flopped into the chair next to mine, completely ignoring me. “Got caught up with some friends,” he said casually, grabbing a piece of bread and eating like he hadn’t been raised with basic table manners.

Mom didn’t seem to care. She just looked at him with the same affectionate smile she always wore when he was around, like he was a little lost puppy she’d adopted instead of a grown man who purposely unplugged my laptop last week while I was writing a final essay.

“So,” Adam said, clinking his fork against his glass, “we have some exciting news.”

Oh no.

Mom beamed. “We’re going away for the weekend. Just the two of us. We thought it would be nice to spend a little time together before the wedding.”

“Oh, that’s great,” I said automatically, even though I already knew this was leading somewhere terrible.

David cleared his throat. “Which means the house will be empty.”

“No problem,” I said quickly. “I’ll stay with Daniel.”

“No,” Mom said, shaking her head. “You have a paper to work on and I don’t want you distracted. Lando will be here too, and it’ll be a good chance for you two to bond.”

Bond.

The word echoed in my head like a death sentence.

Lando turned to me with the most obnoxious grin. “You hear that, princess? Looks like we’re roommates this weekend.”

“I’d rather sleep in a tent,” I muttered.

“I can pitch one for you in the backyard,” he offered sweetly. “Or we could just share a room. You know—for the bonding.”

I kicked him under the table. He yelped, then laughed.

Mom and David were too busy to notice, lost in their rose-colored love bubble. And just like that, it was official: I was going to spend an entire weekend alone in a house with the one person on this planet who could make breathing feel like a competition.

I stared at my plate, appetite gone. Lando leaned closer, voice low in my ear.

“This is going to be fun.”

[sweetdispatch]

Request! :) 4 pieces of panna cotta or carrot cake(whichever you want) with pineapple and crushed nuts

Strategy - J. Hughes

v' bakery pairing: Jack Hughes x fem!reader summary: One night stand with Jack turned into fwb relation but what Jack didn't know is that you were related to a coach of his rival team warning: NSFW, graphic sex (+18), swear words note: i choose the forbidden love trope but i got carried away with the idea and i don't know if this counts as forbidden love haha hope you'll like it anyway love❤️

You’ve met Jack in one of the bars in New Jersey. He was a fun guy to be around and he kept you company. After a couple of drinks, he proposed to move the party to his apartment and you happily agreed. When the doors of his place closed, he started kissing you passionately. Your hands were pulling the clothes from him. 

When you two were kissing, Jack was slowly leading you into his bedroom. You reached his room and both of you were already naked. The clothes were laying all over the floor. He pushed you on a bed and in a quick move, he entered your pussy with his whole length. You pulled him into another kiss. 

This sex was messy because both of you were pretty drunk but it was something you two needed. No thinking, just action. Jack was placing kisses all over your body when your nails were dragging his shoulders and back. You were a moaning mess underneath him but you loved every single minute of it. 

Jack was pounding into you. You felt like he’s trying to mark you as his. You cum around him but he didn’t stop. He was searching for his own release. He pulled out of you and cum on your stomach. You two had been too drunk to clean each other and just fell asleep in each other’ arms. 

Something that you thought was one night stand became routine. You and Jack had a lot in common and you hung out many times. Sex was always a nice addition to your relationship. There were feelings but you never labeled what you are. Although he always felt hurt when you never showed up at his games even if he invited you. 

The reason behind it was that you were the daughter of a Rangers coach. You never told him that because you knew that Jack would cut ties with you. But your father knew about your hookups with him and wanted to use you like a spy. You couldn’t say no to your father and you did what he asked you for. 

Thankfully for you, Jack was already talking to you about hockey and his team. You learnt a lot about their tactics and game plan. You said everything to your father and thanks to your help, his team could beat Jack’ team. You felt bad for this but you knew that your family is more important than this relationship. 

Jack could feel that something was wrong. He wasn’t mad about this lost match but he was mad that Rangers knew every move of his team. This loss stuck with him and the realization hit him. The only person except his teammates who knew about the tactics was you. He didn’t want to believe that you could have anything to do with it. 

Jack left the stadium. He saw you and felt confused. You never went to his games but now, magically you were there. He wanted to talk with you but he spotted you talking with the Rangers coach. Everything pieced together in his head. You were just with him to help the Rangers to beat his team. 

Jack didn’t react at that moment but later. He sent you a text if you have time to see him. You answered that he can come to your place if he wants. While he was driving to your apartment, he was thinking what to tell you. He felt betrayed by you and he was furious with himself that you played him the whole time. 

“Hello” You answered the door happily. 

“Was it fun to play with me the whole time?” Jack asked you when he closed the door behind him. He didn’t want to have this argument in the hallway. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” You were confused by his words. 

“I saw you after the game talking with the Rangers coach. I knew that it’s weird that they know everything about our system but I didn’t expect that you were the one who told them” Jack said furiously.

“Look, I’m sorry but he’s my dad. I couldn’t say no to my dad” You tried to explain yourself.

“Sorry doesn’t fix anything. You played with me just to help your father” Jack raised his voice at you and suddenly you felt small. 

“That’s not true. You were the one who told me everything. I didn’t even ask you. Yes, I said it later to my father but you can only blame yourself for talking about it” You fought back. 

“I trusted you” Jack said coldly. “I really liked you and trusted you but you played with me. I can even look at you. Fuck you” He said and left the apartment with a loud slam of the door. 

You sighed. You felt responsible for the whole mess but deep down, you knew that Jack is the one who said everything to you. Maybe you shouldn’t repeat it to your father but at the end of the day, your family is more important than Jack who wasn’t even your boyfriend. You two had feelings for each other but it was just friendship with sex. 

Jack was mad. He knew that he should never tell you about the strategy of the game but he trusted you. He felt like he finally found someone who’s a perfect match to him. But this relationship with you taught him to never fully trust and every other game against Rangers he treated very personally.

[darling2411]

Liar liar pants on fire

Word count: 2.3k

Summary: Attending your best friend’s boyfriend’s birthday party nothings gonna happen , right?

Warnings: kissing, maybe a swear word or two, oral( f receiving)

ⓘ this was actually suppose to be a fic inspired by ‘ Sport Car’ but I got sidetracked… I will be writing a part two where the real stuff happens ( I hope so lol)

“So what are you up to later?” asks your best friend Kika.

“Don't know, I'm probably gonna catch up on this show I’ve been watching lately.”, you say while shrugging your shoulders. “Oh yeah, which one?” Kika responds, her attention shifting from you to her phone, after a notification from her boyfriend popped up on the screen.

“Criminal minds” you answer. She looks at you, her brows furrowing,” Isn't that the show that you have watched like what ?13 times?”

“Yup” you respond with a smirk and popping the p, “I really like it” you bite your lip” Or rather I really like watching Spencer Reid solve cases while looking extremely fine” you chuckle, images of Dr. Reid flashing through your mind.

Kika laughs and shakes her head ”Girl you need to get out, touch some grass or something” You scoff “ why?” It's totally normal to be obsessed with fictional characters, right? ( no babe, it’s not. Sorry to burst your bubble)

“I love you but you need to get back out into the real world, talk to real people and not just yourself” She points her finger at you accusingly” and no I do not count! Also what about talking to maybe a guy?” she suggests, wiggling her brows.

“Stop it” you shove her shoulders laughing” You know I would, if there were men worth talking to “, You sigh resignedly and give her a pointed look. The dating pool wasn't really big where you lived. And additionally none of the guys you talked to ever met your standards, but you also refused to lower them. They weren't ridiculous, the men were just not the right ones for you.

At least that's what you tell yourself every night when you slip into bed alone.

“Alright how about this. This weekend I'm gonna take you with me to Pierre's birthday party, maybe you'll find someone worth talking to there.” Kika tells you excitedly, a plan already forming in her head.

You were nervous to say the least. This weekend was either going to be the best of your life or a total disaster.

Right now it is leaning more to the latter. And the festivities haven’t even started yet. Heck you weren't even in Monaco yet!

You’re talking to some weird guy at the airport, who wouldn't shut up about his crazy great high paying job at (his daddy's) investment firm. You tried to feign interest but you really couldn't care less about the figures he made last year. Money wasn't something that impressed you. As he continued to talk about how great the things he did are, you zoned out and started imagining how Monaco and the people at the party would be like. Were they going to be like the douchebag in front of you? Or would they be more down to earth? You hope they will or this weekend was going to be pure torture.

You know that Pierre’s friends are Formula one drivers as well, but he never acted as if he was someone better just because he was famous and rich. You really hope his friends are like him.

The man in front of you is still yapping about how much money he has when your flight is announced to start boarding. You take that as your chance and flee as fast as you can.

Inside the plane you find your seat and get comfortable. Your row stays empty the whole flight and you take it as a sign from the universe that your weekend will change for the better.

When you land, Kika and Pierre pick you up from the airport. They tell you that one of the things they love about Monaco the most is that no one really bothers them because it's so normal that the rich and famous stroll the streets of the beautiful city.

The whole drive to Pierre's home you look out of the window and are in awe of the city’s beauty. The sea shimmers like jewels in the sun and the building look like art. (because they are)

“What’s the plan for the days ahead?” you ask the couple in the front seats.

Kika answers that only you and two others have already arrived due to coming from farther away. They thought one more day would be better. The other guest will arrive tomorrow as that's when the party is.

“But today we will have dinner with pierres family, his best friend's family and the others who have already arrived.”

You look forward to meeting everyone but are also filled with anxiety over meeting so many new people in such a short time. Hopefully everyone is nice.

Kika sees the different emotions flicking across your face and reassures you ” They will love you, everyone does. And trust me they’re all great.”

You smile at her gratefully. She always knows how to make you feel better.

The house Pierre and KIka live in is incredibly beautiful. It even has a pool! When you voiced your excitement about that in particular, a man you didn't know responded that it was normal for houses in Monaco to come with a pool and most of the time also a jacuzzi.

You looked at him shocked and he chuckled.

He introduced himself as George and told you that he was here with his amazing girlfriend Carmen who you met just seconds later. “I can only agree with George,” you say when you start talking to Carmen” you really are amazing.” She just thanks you and laughs.

Before dinner you got to know the other Guys and their Girlfriends. Carlos and Rebecca, Oscar and Lilly and Alex and Lilly. You have already made plans with the girls to meet up again after the birthday weekend and understood why Kika is always talking about these women.

Everyone is talking when Pierres mother calls to the table. You find your seats and the only people that are missing are Pierres Best Friend and his family. Just when Pierre went to call him the doorbell rings and he stands up to let them in.

You hear them greeting each other and when they walk in your breathing stops.

Or rather when he walks in.

He is the most beautiful man you have ever seen. His perfectly tousled hair looks so soft you want to sink your hands in it. The white shirt he's wearing accentuates his fit physique. And his eyes…

His eyes are the most beautiful shade of hazel you’ve ever seen.

If he wasn't blessed by Aphrodite herself you don't know who is.

You're still staring at him when Pierre introduces you to him.

“Charles, this is Y/n, Kika's best friend. Y/n, this is Charles, my best friend.” he smiles knowingly.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Charles says while smiling at you and that's when you notice.

DIMPLES, he has dimples !!!

You didn't think he could be more beautiful but oh were you just proven wrong.

And his voice ? Perfection.

You are going to tell your kids that he was supposed to be their father but he had to go to war and you had to marry someone else or something like that.

Your heart beats faster as he takes you in shamelessly just like you had done him.

Charles would never admit it but he was enchanted by you the moment his eyes set their sight on you.

Conveniently his mother and brothers already found a seat for themselves which made the only available option the one next to you. Bummer…

As soon as he was seated dinner began.

Everyone was talking to each other and having a good time. Even Oscar the Grids antisocial black cat was having a blast.

Embarrassing childhood stories, funny memories and beautiful moments were shared.

But you couldn't really focus with this masterpiece of a man beside you.

His scent, intoxicating and addicting, invaded your senses. His leg touched yours under the table constantly and his arm brushed your shoulder every other moment.

When he leaned closer to you and all but murmured in your ear if you could pass him the potatoes you were convinced he was driving you insane on purpose. But when you looked at him he just smiled at you politely. Did he really have no idea what he was doing?

—☽—☽—₁₆—☽—☽—

Oh Charles knew.

He knew exactly how he was affecting her.

The little gasp when his hand brushed her arm as he was reaching for the water or the way she shivered when he leaned in to ask her to pass him something didn't go unnoticed by him in the slightest.

Hell that was what he was going for.

He liked her reaction to him and he wanted to see how far he could go before she snapped.

So he settled his hands in his lap with a look of innocence on his face.

When she wasn't focused on him but Alex who was telling some story of their days in karting he let his hand wander.

First they settled on a more neutral part of her thighs, but her reaction was immediate. She stiffened and looked at him but he just continued talking to Carlos opposite of him.

—☽—☽—₁₆—☽—☽—

You tried to ignore him, you really did.

But when his hand moved from its former place higher up your thighs leaving goosebumps in its way until it slipped under your dress you couldn’t hold it in any longer.

You grabbed his wrist, willed him to stop and released a staggering breath.

From the corner of your eye you could see a smirk forming on his handsome face.

Oh no you don't.

He may think he can tease you, but two can play that game.

Pulling all your confidence together you lean over to him and whisper in his ear, your voice taking on a seductive tone you have never heard from yourself before. “ I'm not wearing any underwear. And to think you were so close…”

Then you pull his hand out from under your dress, stand up and excuse yourself to the bathroom.

—☽—☽—₁₆—☽—☽—

Oh holy-

Charles has to suppress a groan. No underwear ? You mean to tell him, if he had just let his hand slide a little higher he would have felt your warm, wet heat?

He can feel his pants tighten and he wants nothing more than to get up and run after you. But he has to contain himself. He can’t go after you, right? You literally just met.

But the tension between the two of you and the chemistry was instant.

“Oh fuck it”, he thinks and gets up.

To his luck no one pays him any mind.

—☽—☽—₁₆—☽—☽—

What did you do ? You never do stuff like this. What has come over you?

You don't even have time to overthink your actions more before the door to the bathroom gets pushed open and Charles steps in. Desire shining in his beautiful eyes.

Oh.

“Mon Cherie, what am I gonna do with you ,hm?” he says while walking up to you.

When he stands in front of you he raises your chin with his thumb and pointer finger.

Your breathing catches and your heartbeat picks up. But your voice is steady when you answer “ I have a few things in mind. To start you could kiss me.”

And Charles does not need to be told twice.

His lips meet yours in a bruising kiss. It's full of passion, teeth and tongue.

He does not hold back and neither do you.

Your whimpers and moans fill the bathroom and he groans in your mouth when you pull him even closer than before.

Your breasts are pressed against his chest and you swear he can feel your heart beating.

When both of you are at a loss for breath you break apart. Lips swollen, eyes glazed and hair tousled you look like you step out of his wet dreams.

“Mon dieu, chérie. That was something.” You can only nod before he pulls you close again.

You chase his lips when he breaks apart once more moments later.

“I will kiss you again in a moment but before I have to check something.” he murmurs against the skin of your neck where he’s placing kisses and sucking marks.

His hands trail down your body and you realize what he wants to check.

He wants to see if you're really not wearing any underwear.

“Liar” he murmurs when his fingers come in contact with your panties. “ You know lying is a sin don't you, mon amour. I think I will have to do something about this, non?”

“Wha-” before you can ask what he means he sinks to his knees, rips the lace apart and dives in like a man starved.

You moan out loud before clamping a hand over your mouth. His assault on your core not faltering.

“God Charles” you whimper as your hands tangle in his hair. You can feel your high approaching quickly and so can he.

He grins wickedly against you before he stops, gets up and leaves. The words “ This should be punishment enough” leave his lips before the door closes behind him. You want to (s)cream.

He left you there panting and close to crying over your ruined release. And then you notice that he took your underwear. That cheeky fuck. Now you have to sit through the rest of dinner with your wetness sliding down your thighs.

After composing and making yourself somewhat presentable again you join the others again.

The overwhelming feeling of your lost high makes you quieter than before and Kika gives you a look but you just shake your head which in return earns you a chuckle from the devilish man beside you.

Once again you lean over and whisper” I want those back, Leclerc.”

He chuckles slowly, smirks at you and replies” Never.”

[httpvomitello]

Tom Holland Peter Parker x y/n

Every time Peter looked at you, it was like the chaos of his double life faded into the background.

I hope you like it ~ ♡♡

Where It’s Quiet .｡*･ﾟﾟ

Summary: When Peter Parker looks at you, it’s like the noise fades.

peter parker x f!reader

Peter Parker’s life was split in two.

There was the public version: college student, intern, quiet nerd with a sweet smile and permanently messy hair. The one who showed up late to lectures and forgot his own birthday sometimes.

And then there was the other version: Spider-Man. Defender of Queens, of Brooklyn, of people who had no idea their friendly neighborhood hero was just a tired guy who lived off dollar pizza and caffeine.

But then there was a third version.

One that only showed up around you.

He didn’t quite understand it at first. Just that… every time he saw you, something in his chest unclenched. Like he could breathe a little easier.

You weren't flashy. You weren’t part of the hero life. You were just—you.

And somehow, that was everything.

It had been raining.

Peter had ducked into a bookstore for shelter, soaked and shivering, with no intention of buying anything. You had been behind the counter, flipping through a paperback and sipping hot chocolate from a chipped glass that said 'Fight Me, I Read Classics.'

He smiled at the glass before he smiled at you.

You looked up. “Need a towel or a copy of War and Peace?”

“Do either come with a working umbrella?”

You tilted your head. “I’ll throw in the sarcasm for free.”

That was the beginning.

You weren’t exactly friends, not right away. Just familiar faces in the same places. You started remembering his coffee order. He started remembering which books you’d already read. You teased each other. Laughed. He’d linger longer than necessary just to hear your voice.

And each time he left the shop, the weight of the world felt a little less sharp.

It terrified him.

Because Peter Parker didn’t get to have normal. He didn’t get to have peace.

But somehow, when he looked at you—really looked at you—the chaos faded.

You were on your lunch break, sitting on the edge of a low brick wall outside the bookstore, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands, chewing the end of a straw. Peter had dropped by under the guise of “just being in the neighborhood,” which was obviously a lie, but you let him pretend.

“So,” you said, nudging his knee with yours. “Are you ever gonna tell me why you always look like you haven’t slept in three days?”

He blinked. “I look like that?”

You gave him a knowing look.

Peter hesitated. “I just… have a lot on my plate.”

You didn’t push. You just nodded, taking another sip of your drink. “Well, maybe take something off. The world won’t end if you let yourself breathe.”

He looked at you then.

Really looked.

And something in his chest moved.

He hadn’t even noticed how tightly wound he’d been until you said it.

“Maybe,” he murmured.

It was late. You were closing up, and he was helping—just because. You stacked books. He sorted receipts. You didn’t talk much, but the silence wasn’t awkward. It was easy.

At one point, you stood next to each other behind the counter, only inches apart. Your arm brushed his. Your eyes met.

Something clicked.

Peter swallowed hard. “You make it easier. Just so you know.”

You tilted your head. “Make what easier?”

“Breathing.”

Your face softened. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

The tension was there. Barely restrained. His fingers twitched like he wanted to reach for you. Yours curled into your sleeves instead.

He didn’t kiss you.

Not yet.

But he thought about it the whole subway ride home.

Everything went wrong.

A weapons deal in the Bronx. A warehouse full of armed men. Shouting. Smoke. Peter barely escaped with a bruised rib and a broken comm.

He got home at three a.m., bleeding and exhausted, hands still shaking from adrenaline.

He should’ve slept.

Instead, he pulled out his phone. Opened your contact. Stared at the screen.

Then typed:

“Are you awake?”

A minute later:

“Yeah. You okay?”

And without thinking, he replied:

“Can I see you?”

You opened the door in an oversized sweater and pajama shorts. No makeup. Hair a mess. Peter stood there, looking wrecked.

You didn’t ask anything.

You just pulled him in and shut the door.

He sat on your couch in silence while you made tea. His eyes were red. His knuckles scraped.

“Rough night?” you asked softly, handing him a mug.

He gave a humorless laugh. “Something like that.”

You didn’t push.

You sat next to him, curling your legs under yourself. “You don’t have to talk.”

He looked at you, and for the first time that night—maybe the first time in days—his shoulders dropped.

“I just needed to be here,” he said.

“You are.”

You were leaning into his side, head on his shoulder, listening to the city breathe.

“I should go,” he whispered.

You didn’t move. “You don’t have to.”

He looked down at you. His fingers found yours.

And then—slowly, carefully—he kissed you.

It was soft. Gentle. Like he was afraid you’d disappear if he leaned in too much. Like he needed to be sure you were real.

When he pulled back, his voice cracked.

“You make everything feel quiet.”

You smiled. “And you make everything feel loud.”

He laughed, kissing your lips again. “Good loud?”

“The best kind.”

[yeonmuse]

ᥫ᭡ f!reader x Park Sunghoon ── 𝒢enre. Uni au. fluff, non idol enha. feats. ot7 [reqs are closed] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary ⛸️

⍣ ೋ AUTHORS NOTES . This is part of admins Enhypen University Special Event. This series also has slight connections to every series in said event so occasionally characters from the other members chapters may appear in this series as well.

˗ˏˋSUMMARY ´ˎ˗ Park Sunghoon doesn’t usually like getting close to new people, but when a little shows up to his place of work in need of skating lessons he finds himself getting oddly close to his older sister. He finds himself developing some uncontainable feelings while having to teach not only her little sister to skate, but her as well.

TAGLIST IS CLOSED ❕ 🏷️

place your bets

*more pictures after the written portion*

By the time the group of friends had arrived at the arena it had been jam packed with people, students and families all having gathered together for the sole purpose of supporting their friends, family and teammates. Yn and her friends being the only odd ones out having come for the sole purpose of watching Yeonjun fail once again. There had been thirty minutes of hang time before the game would start, and while the others had gotten to their seats yn stood around in the bustling food court waiting for Chaewon as promised. She stood mindlessly scrolling on her phone, trying to make herself look busy and distracted to avoid anyone approaching her and wanting to spark sudden conversation.

Eventually she hears their familiar voices in the distance coupled with the sound of an argument not too far from her, the moment she looks up she spots Chaewon only a few feet away approaching with a few of Sunghoons other friends that she recognized from his socials. Chaewon seemingly annoyed by the two she knew to be Jake and Niki going back and forth behind her.

“Isn’t that the girl Sunghoon spilled his drink on?’’ Jake stops mid argument, watching as Chaewon proceeds to approach the girl before pulling two jerseys out of her bag.

“Sunghoon gave me these for you guys to wear. Harua and Maki didn’t want to be left out so the extra two are for your other friends.’’ yns brow creases up in confusion at the mention of the two extra jerseys.

“Wait then who’s jersey is this?’’ she asks, bringing up one of the two jerseys that Chaewon had already placed in her hands. Chaewon shrugs, she wasn’t one to pay attention much at these games, truth be told this was the third game she had ever even been to since Sunghoon joined the team.

“He just said to make sure you got that one, your friend Mari gets the white and your other two friends get the black and blue ones.’’ not wanting to bombard the girl with questions she just nods it off, turning to greet the rest of them who had watched the entire exchange whispering amongst themselves. Eventually after their exchange in greetings they all went down to join Mari and the others, making the group far more chaotic than they had already been momentr prior. On top of receiving dirty looks for their loud ass cheers and screaming, their entire section was now receiving dirty looks for the ongoing argument between Yeonjun, Ni ki and Jake (an argument which all of them gladly ignored).

“This is for you.’’ yn comments, plopping nicholas’s jersey into her best friends lap as she took her seat next to her.

“Um…a random jersey.’’

“Nicholas Wang, number 54.’’ she responds with a cheeky grin as she places her own jersey in her lap.

“When the hell did you get nicos jersey? We were together the entire night.’’

“Just got it from Chaewon, I asked Sunghoon for them earlier before we all met up at fatou’s place.’’

“And you have one as well?’’ Mari mentions, her eyebrows raise out of interest.

“Before you start thinking too much into it, i don’t know who’s jersey it is, it must be some rando teammates because chaewon didn’t know either, i’m sure she’d know what number her friends jersey was.’’ she defends, earning a skeptical look from Mari.

“Whatever you say girly.’’

Eventually the game had started and the girls all wore their jerseys proudly – which the guys all found funny because they hadn’t even worn their own school's jerseys when they played against UA yet here we are. The game itself felt like it went by in a flash, all of them seemingly captivated by this game compared to the last. For some reason this game seemed a lot more intense compared to the one played against their school. More specifically, Sunghoon played like he had something to prove. Unbeknownst to her and to his confusion, seeing her sat there amongst the crowd wearing his school's jersey; more specifically his jersey, lit a fire in him that wasn’t present at their last game.

Unlike their school that had put up a good fight this team took a loss of 10 to 75 points against UA, meaning once again Yeonjun had lost yet another bet and his precious motorcycle that he loved like his child, now belonged to Jake for a week

“I’m going to need those keys in my hand by the end of tomorrow night.’’ Jake taunts as the group all begin to head to the front of the arena where they wait for Sunghoon and the others.

Eventually their voices faded off into the background as yn spotted Sunghoon approaching with the maki, Harua and Nicholas, a smile curling onto her lips.

“Congratulations on your win, looks like you’re one step closer to nationals.’’ she congratulates him with a smile, giving the others a congratulatory hug as they all pass by to join the others leaving the two of them alone.

“Which only means that Fuma will be on our asses a lot more compared to before.’’ Sunghoon complains, with a smile on his lips.

“Well him being on your ass all season got you that win tonight so maybe he should be.’’ she responds, scrunching up her nose at him at which he couldn’t help but chuckle. Something about seeing her stood there in his jersey smiling up at him made his stomach stir.

“By the way, you're on Maris good side for getting her that jersey.’’

“Oh? So i’m officially in with the girls hm?’’

“Well fatou is salty about last night at the rink so she’s still got eyes on you for now.’’

“Ah so she thinks i’m stealing you away?’’

“Aren’t you?’’

“Maybe? Maybe I like spending time with you, she’ll just have to learn to share.’’ he shrugs, earning a laugh from her.

“So..i know Jinsoul and Fatou have Harua and Makis jersey then.’’ she pauses momentarily, the way he stares down at her nearly knocking the wind out of her lungs. “Whose jersey did you give me?’’

“Mine.’’ He responds as if it’s the most obvious answer ever, that’s when her gaze lands on the big 93 on his arm and she realizes that she was in fact wearing his numbers and for some reason that made her stomach churn and her heart thump against her chest. So Maris assumptions about the jersey had been entirely right, but that didn’t mean anything right? They were friends and friends supported by wearing their friends jerseys.

CHAPTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

🏷️ @getoxo @planetmarlowe @dreeki @butterflywonz @sol3chu @squiishymeow @jwonistic @nithxhoon @lakoya @iichuuo @letmein2urheart @mitmit01 @enhaz1 @hollxe1 @brianashiftz @starbyeol1512 @tinyteezer @jkslvsnella @manobillie @vvenusoncasual @i03jae @blackhairandbangs @sunooqvrlsx @addictedtohobi @gaytron3000 @firstclassjaylee @riribelle @ivyvioletcarson @academiq @claumbeju @bubblytaetae @pkjay @httpenhoon @starniras @semi-wife @nightowlpudding @heartheejake @papichulomacy @celestnlav @50-husbands @kukkurookkoo @neptunediaries @nujeskz @gweoriz @pookalicious-hq @kirakun @kimbottom6969 @i-peachesandstrawberries @rishki @wonzzziezzzz

[queerholmcs]

guess who made it a full nine and a half months before going back for round two! (me. it's me.)

Massive thanks and all my love to Elena @ohwatson, Time @heartduct, Rachel @betweendoctorsanddetectives, and Elena's friend from uni for making this weekend (1) happen and (2) an absolute experience to remember 🩷💀🦠👨‍💻

Detailed write-ups for the escape rooms already exist (see my dear friend Rebs's notes on the original experience, and Amy's transcript, and my detailed write-up on the Mind of Moriarty room from last year) but I do still have Thoughts To Share, and it is in danger of getting wordy, as always, so I'll see you below the cut! 🫶🫶🫶

I started my day off strong by waking up far too early & going for far too long of walk to see some classics like Big Ben, and the Langham (as one does), and then met up with Elena and Time for the Sherlock Holmes museum, since I needed to see what they'd done with it since getting rid of most of the weird little wax guys. (I can't remember what that room upstairs was officially supposed to be, but it was giving Mycroft's office. Maybe it was supposed to be Watson's office?)

And then we swung by North Gower St for the obligatory Speedy's moment, of course! 🫶

Meeting up with the rest of the group for lunch at the Westfield did turn out to be possibly the most difficult part of the weekend. Most convoluted shopping centre I've ever been in, I swear. The pizza was worth it, at least—even if it was all quickly overshadowed by the real reason we had all gathered there that day: a good old-fashioned eye exam.

I'm going to refrain from rehashing all of the insane details here that have already been noted elsewhere, but I also cannot overstate how insane the experience is. And there are people who just do this casually. Like, the original escape room experience is just included with the London Pass now? That's bonkers. And it is impossible to mention the escape rooms without also mentioning how incredibly dead Jim Moriarty definitely absolutely undoubtedly is. Mr "I Wish I Could Die Twice", indeed. 🔫🤭 And we got my beloved Yorick in-frame for our photos this time, so we were already starting off on a very high note, indeed! (Even if Stamford was a bit confused by our reactions when he prompted us to pose as though Moriarty himself had just stepped into 221B.)

There are some fun details I had forgotten, or otherwise failed to notice, the first time I did these rooms. Like Molly signing off a note to John, saying, "Nice beard, by the way!" To a man whose wife is mentioned exactly zero times during the course of the entire experience, no less. Sure. Why not.

Mycroft's office is phase two of the original escape experience, and it should come as no surprise to anyone here that that is my favourite room. And this time, it was elevated beyond what it could have been, because I learnt Mycroft's birthday on what was undoubtedly the most humbling phone call of my life, and it all went something like this:

me [picking up the phone to call Sam to ask for the code for the cryptex; the reader should note that I'm getting better about making phone calls in real life, and this is a call I've done before, so I'm feeling fairly confident in my ability to navigate this interaction, but it does still take me two tries to successfully dial the number and remember to press pound to actually make the call]: Hi, Sam, can we get the access code?

Sam: Okay, let me see here... it looks like you have given us the data we need, but just as a security measure, I'll have to ask you for Mycroft's date of birth.

me [did NOT have to give this information last time, and certain that such information is never once mentioned in the canon of the show]: ..........mmhm, sure, we'll call you right back.

A brief moment of discussing the evidence ensued, during which we determined, based on a ticket for Les Mis from 28 February 2019, and the voice message in which he complained about seeing Les Mis with his parents for his 50th birthday, that his date of birth is 28 February 1969. Meaning (1) he's a fucking pisces, and (2) the Les Mis showing in TEH was nowhere near 28 February 2019, so either that's something you're supposed to literally not take that seriously, or, as I am going to choose to believe because it's much more fun this way, his parents think he actually likes Les Mis and therefore regularly take him to see it and it's far too late for him to convince them otherwise now. (You know how parents are.)

me [calling Sam back, definitely feeling good about my ability to handle this phone call because I now definitely have all the information I need]: Hey, Sam, so we've got that security code of Mycroft's birthday for you. It's the 28th of February 1969.

Sam: Sure, that's correct! And what is it you're looking for?

me: We are looking for the access code for the cryptex.

Sam: Okay, sure. But you are still missing a word.

me [frowning at Mycroft's desk, trying to think what on earth she could be referring to, and then realising what it might be, and knowing that if I'm wrong, I'm about to look so unbelievably stupid for missing some obvious additional code word that was somewhere in the room, but that if I'm right, that'll somehow be worse, because I am an adult in the eyes of the law and I can do things like file my taxes or take impromptu trips to London to give people money in exchange for being locked in a room and insulted for an hour and a half without so much as asking for a parent's pemission, and yet I am now finding myself sat at Mycroft's desk, both feeling and sounding very much like a small child]: ..........could I please have an access code?

Sam: Oh, of course you can! The first digit is 1...

Needless to say, I have never been more efficiently nor more effectively humbled in my life, and I doubt I ever will be. And, naturally, it was only after the fact that I found out that—because everyone else could only hear my side of the conversation—they all thought we might have gotten his birthday wrong, or something, and I was just asking if we could please have the access code anyway. So thank you, Sam, for giving me some memories to carry with me to my very grave. I think I deserve photos of myself at that desk for my troubles. And also I would love to know what I looked like while sat behind Mycroft's desk and being told to say 'please.'

And also I now have to spend the rest of my life knowing a date that they chose—and probably arbitrarily, like you're probably not even supposed to think that much about it, it's not even that deep, unless it is—to be Mycroft Holmes's birthday. As though I needed any more details about that man to gnaw on. Knife emoji.

There weren't any more major surprises in that original experience, and we debriefed at the Mind Palace with drinks before it was time for our second appointment. (They had a new drink on the menu for me this time called "Mycroft's Modus Operandi," so, you know. That was fun! And there was no 'December 1963' jumpscare this time, but they clearly know their clientele, because the playlist was very "chill queer pop" vibes.)

My major takeaway from the Mind of Moriarty experience this time was, once again, my beloved prison cell. There was a phrase on the wall that had been a complete blank spot in my memory from the first time, and that was "Oh, but Sherlock's excellent, really very excellent!" (which is insane, for the record). But at least that one is relevant to a puzzle you have to solve, because I was also able to verify that the two phrases which actually haunt me—"too many thatchers" and "three signs isn't enough"—have absolutely nothing to do with any puzzles in the room. They are there just to haunt me. Which is more insane.

But, hey, I got to text Mycroft on a phone that was hidden in John's Semtex jacket inside Moriarty's mind! And apparently I missed reading last time a card where Jim refers to Mycroft as "Her Majesty." So. You know. Feeling some sort of super normal way about that!

I do really love that they use s4 footage of John and Sherlock and Mycroft and Jim in the third phase rooftop portion of the Mind of Moriarty experience. ("Family or friend, Mycroft or John Watson?" scene my beloved!!!) Especially because there is absolutely zero mention of that wife of his at any point throughout this entire thing. You would think he would fall back on "I do have a baby and/or wife at home" at some point during all his "I am literally being held here at gunpoint against my will" complaining, and yet...

Also there's still the whole "is it about having the keycode to open every door, or is it just about knowing people's pressure points and finding alternate ways to get what you need" thing running through the entire Mind of Moriarty experience. And the opening test for the original escape experience includes "TFP" in the centre of the screen and the opening test for the Mind of Moriarty experience involves choosing the fifth option to complete an existing series of four, with the patterns changing slightly (being mirrored, one might say?) between each. And there's the whole literal actual virus in the original experience becoming an AI computer virus in the Mind of Moriarty experience—it's a delicious progression, and that's all I'll say on that before I spend another three pages rambling about Jimmy boy.

At any rate, we did successfully complete both rooms, and we wrapped up the evening with dinner at Battersea itself! (Still bonkers that that's a bougie commercial complex now, and not just, like, the run-down power station where John and Mycroft I mean John and Irene had THE conversation of all time. Like, hello?)

All in all, an absolute success of a day. All my love again to everyone who made it possible, and I truly madly deeply look forward to doing it again whenever they re-remember that they have carte blanche to do whatever they want and drop a third escape room experience feature Cabin No. 9 of Blood Vessel fame. 🫶♟️🪞🤭

[hrtjun]

— 𝓯lash, flash, 감각적인 pose.

⋆𐙚 pairing: mingyu x fem!reader

⋆𐙚 warnings: strangers, nsfw but no smut, only making out, a lil fluffy and cheesy, MDNI

⋆𐙚 wc: 1.6k

⋆𐙚 other: non!idol mingyu, model!mingyu

⋆𐙚 a/n: I'm slowly getting back to writing as I used to write a lot of ffs but stopped a few years ago and It still feels new to me I feel like I forgot how to write so please bare with me 😕🤞

You and Kim Mingyu are both models. Though you don't know him personally yet, or the kind of person he is behind the scenes he’ll end up changing your life; Making you want him more despite never having held a full on conversation with the guy. You’ve seen him a few times before, merely sneaking looks and glances from far away from some of the events you've both participated in but never met him personally to introduce yourself. He’s one of the faces of Dior and frequently models in their designs for various magazines but gender is always separated in modeling, so women rarely work with the men in their company or see them unless for certain photoshoots or ads for the brand and now it’s come to the ‘unless’. You’ve been chosen to model by Dior with Kim Mingyu for the front cover of Dazed Korea promoting the upcoming Paris Fashion Week and you can’t help but feel nervous. What the hell? There’s no way.

You don't get nervous, you never get nervous for a photoshoot. Every photoshoot you do gets the biggest compliments. You’re going to serve as always and the photos are going to come out great. They always do and so much so that the photographer hates having to end a session with you. . So what's with this feeling? Maybe it was because you couldn't get your mind off Mingyu. You’ll never admit this out loud but Mingyu is so attractive. He’s so good looking he can pull off any outfit they give him and You don't know him as a person.. But damn, he’s hot… Your knees almost go weak at the thought of being next to him. Damn you, Kim Mingyu.

—

“You’re here! Great, I’m ready to start so say hi to Mingyu quickly then we’ll get you situated with some purses. This photoshoot will be more minimalistic as we want to put focus on the new Dior drop, so once you're ready get next to Mingyu then we’ll start. I want to start off with a duo photoshoot first with you two, then solo photoshoots next and you’ll be first followed by Mingyu. You got it?” The photographer smiled brightly at you.

You nodded at him before making your way towards Mingyu and he was already staring at you when you looked his way, your eyes locking with his immediately and you could see him swallowing hard, as if trying to stop himself from saying something.

Embarrassed, you looked away sure that your entire face was as red as a strawberry at that point from being caught. He was dressed in all black, from head to toe, (jewelry excluded) and even had a pair of shiny black Dior glasses sitting atop of his head. Yeah, he looked really, really, good.

As you made your way beside him you quickly bowed and said, “Hi, nice to meet you.”

“I’m Mingyu. Nice to finally meet you,” He replies with a small smirk. You just looked at him dumbfounded. Finally? What do you mean? But he never responded and you were cut off by the photographer shouting that he was ready to start.

It was around 40 minutes later and you and Mingyu were going over the last set of photos you took together, the staff showing you each photo that was taken on a big monitor standing behind the photographer, wanting to get your opinions on them. As the staff went through each photo you couldn't help but notice the smile and smirk that Mingyu would let out followed by a feeling of tension that you only hoped the photographer couldn't feel and did your best to ignore. It’s time for solo shoots finally. You felt relieved realizing that, knowing you could be more at ease without having to be nervous of the attractive guy who was merely inches away from you minutes earlier.

After changing in your dressing room and getting the jewelry needed you made your way back to the photographer and smiled, “I’m ready,” He looked up at you with excitement and shock. “Oh my god you look so good, jaw dropping good. This dress feels like it was made for you. You’ll do great, I swear my camera is in love with you,”

You just laughed lightly and thanked him before taking your spot and getting ready to pose for the camera. You were dressed in a long silk red dress that hugged your body perfectly and left your sides exposed, having only the smallest of gold metal along the sides to keep the fabric together. It fits you perfectly and if anything accentuates your curves more. It reminded you of the dress Dior had for Fashion Week in 1997 and you loved the way it fit you so much. You knew this wouldn't be the last time you’d be wearing it.

The silk red dress, topped with a few necklaces and rings and a black Dior purse made you stand out in the crowd of staff and employees but in the best way possible. The type of standing out where people can't help but look at you and notice you as soon as you enter a room. All eyes on you, because that's just how good you look.

“Ready? Let’s start.” You nodded after going over a few ideas in your head and posed for the camera. Many, many, poses and flashes later and you were finally reviewing your last set of photos. Damn, they came out good. Although you were tired and wanted a break you felt satisfied and were happy with how they turned out, thanking the staff next to the monitor and bowing at them before turning around to walk back to your dressing room to change. As you turned around though, you noticed Mingyu standing there looking amusingly in your direction and you couldn't help but smile at him. How long has he been standing there? You didn't know the answer to that but as you passed through the door by him, he smiled and bit his lip and you felt that tension again.

You had barely made it to your dressing room and opened the door before a pair of hands grabbed at your waist and pushed you inside, closing the door behind them. You turned around and looked up to see Mingyu staring at you with the most intense and desirable look on his face, not even wasting a second before he grabs you by the face and kisses you. He didn't even give you a chance to say anything just immediately put his lips to yours hungrily, as if he had been waiting his whole life to do it.

A small gasp managed to escape your mouth from the shock but you just wrapped your arms around his neck, not hesitating to kiss him back. He smiled and bit at your bottom lip, tugging at it slightly so he could slip his tongue inside your mouth and you gladly let him do so as he deepened the kiss, hands now around your thighs as it turned from kissing to just full on making out. Not that you were complaining, though.

Things were going fast and you wanted to let yourself give in but you remembered the photoshoot.. Mingyu had his solo shoot next and he definitely couldn't go back in a mess, plus he needed time to change. “Mingyu, enough.. we have to stop.. You still have your photoshoot.” You let out between breaths. He pulled away and rested his forehead against yours, slightly shaking his head no with heavy breaths. “You don't know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment, since the day I first saw you I haven't been able to get you and that white dress out of my head and I was so lucky to be given this chance, I’m not wasting it.. You look so good, god, you’re so beautiful, I just couldn't help myself and I noticed you eyeing me too so please, let me have this moment with you. I’ll go back after,” And just like that he's pressing his lips against yours yet again, but this time with more force as you grip onto his hair and melt into his touch.

He let out a small groan of satisfaction at the sudden grip, grabbing you by the legs and holding you up as he threw you against the wall of your dressing room and moved his lips from your mouth to your neck as he made his way down, leaving breathy kisses with his lips lingering on you as if he wanted to enjoy every second and every last inch of you that he could.

You were letting out small whines at the touch because damn, you were definitely turned on and damn, you certainly couldn't do anything about it. Mingyu moved his lips from your neck and smirked, seemingly satisfied at the effect he had on you and rested his forehead on yours once more, holding your hand in his. “I should probably go now.. But I’ll see you later, right? What do you say, my house at 7?” You nodded immediately, a small grin forming on your lips.

“Cool.. We can finish what we started. See you soon, pretty girl.” And with that he was gone after winking suggestively at you.

[kiwii-11]

fool! asher x fool! babe where it’s the grumpy alpha with his mate, one of the only people who has ever made him genuinely laugh.

the pack meetings were obviously led by the talbot alpha himself. mates were allowed to join in if they liked, and babe always did. they sat opposite him most of the time, with davey’s mate near them so they can ask a few questions. at some point, during a very serious conversation concerning a nearby vampire clan, he accidentally locks eyes with babe. they sit up straighter, offering him a smile.

and for some reason, he has lost his train of thought and he’s smiling too. and now he’s chuckling, and trying to cover it up with a cough.

babe doesn’t know what is it. they don’t even do anything to deliberately make him laugh and yet he had to turn his back to the rest of the pack to compose himself. the first few times this happens, the other shifters in the room are just as confused. anton nudges davey beside him, raising a brow. amanda begins to laugh a little as well because it’s now been four minutes straight of silence due to asher’s situation.

at some point, he clears his throat and turns back around with an apology, but babe is giggling at something anton’s love has said and now asher is covering his face to hide his own grin again.

during today’s ten minute break (implemented by the alpha himself), asher leaves to grab a glass of water. the shifters have split up into groups to talk as love and angel share a knowing smile between them.

“what is it?” babe asks.

“seriously don’t know how many more meetings we’ll have to go through with asher acting the way he is.” angel jokes as they cross their arms over their chest.

“what do you mean? he’s not acting any different.” babe points out.

anton chuckles, “you think so? hm, interesting.”

they go to ask again when they hear their mate.

“babe. c’mere for a sec.” asher calls from the doorway.

they get up to follow after him as the talbot pack begins ‘ooh’ing at the pair. with a quick ‘shut up’ from the alpha, they all go back to their talking. when in the other room, babe takes hold of his hands in concern.

“what’s wrong? you look… mad.” they question sincerely.

asher’s breath hitches as they squeeze his palms. from when they first met, babe knew what kind of guy he was. he seemed to always be a little on edge, and a bit walled up before he confessed his love to them. as the months went on, he became softer with them, whilst still showing off that slightly arrogant charm that they fell for. what they hadn’t known was that it was only them that got to see that side of him, up until they began attending the meetings.

“i think that it’s best if you don’t come to pack meeting anymore, babe.” he states with upturned brows.

“what…?” they huff, slowly letting go of his hands, “what did i do wrong?”

“no, nothing, baby, you didn’t do anything,” he quickly reiterates, collecting their hands in his once again and placing them against his beating heart, “i just… i find it, uh, hard to focus when i can see you during these meetings. and i gotta’ be professional and serious, or else these idiots won’t listen to me.”

his mate blinks at his blushing face, a smile now being suppressed.

“it’s… embarrassing. i can’t concentrate when i can see your pretty face.”

babe was usually the flirt, the one that would make the stoic alpha crumble and blush so much that he needed a break. but now, they were uncontrollably smiling at him.

“so you’re saying, i’m so hot that i turn your brain to mush?” they hum as they wrap their arms around his neck, “you’re so sweet!”

“keep it down.” asher harshly whispers.

“oh, that’s why they said that,” babe thinks out loud, “i didn’t start attending pack meetings until like two months ago. aw, you’re actually warming my heart, puppy, you’re adorable—”

“‘puppy’—?”

“you said it’s special for mates to come to pack meetings,” they state, “if you’re okay with it, can i sit behind you? where arden is? i’ll be out of sight, and i’ll still be there will you.”

his gaze softens at the compromise. of course he couldn’t expect his mate to just roll over at the request. he moves his thumb against the outside of their hand.

“that’s fine by me. thank you.” he sighs, showing them a small smile. they grin wider.

“gimme’ a kiss real quick.”

“babe, i need to head back—”

“just one!”

“i—… fine, just o—”

they pull him closer with their lips, quieting his words. his mind immediately clouds as his hands brace against their hips. asher’s eyes close and he gets lost against their touch while they brush their fingers against the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. he takes a few steps back as babe pushes forward against him. when his back hits the wall, a small gasp leaves him, letting babe deepen the kiss with a chuckle.

“b—babe, i—” the alpha breathes out.

“ash, we should wrap up the meeting, yes? chrissy and amanda—”

the couple stops in their positions as the beta opens the door to see them. babe immediately stands up straight as asher brushes his shirt of creases. anton blinks before a smirk lands on his face.

“ooh, what do we have here—”

“shut it.” asher grumbles as he walks passed him.

“i mean, you have no shame! in the office as well; what do you two do when nobody’s around, hm?” anton continues as he follows after babe and asher, “you can be honest with me, i tell no secrets.”

“i’m not allowed to say.” babe chuckles.

when they get to the meeting room, babe politely asks arden if they can switch seats, and they happily do so. the rest of the meetings they attend, they are seated beside asher with a proud heart. sometimes, he’ll glance at them between topics so that he knows that they’re there.

the small smile that appears on his lips every time shows his thankfulness.

[secondpersonpoetry]

you’ve probably already read it before, but the poem Party by Kim Addonizio really got me tonight. first thought was “oh man. yeah” and then my second thought was “how can i make this about my hockey guys somehow………..”anyway! have a good one! 

oh. oh.

​

[ghostboyhood]

dude im

i think this is the first time in... as long as i can remember that life's actually going well. like sometimes life just Goes By until something bad happens or whatever... but like, ive had a lot of pretty good days in the past month ish? ive gone to two really amazing local shows recently, plus some other concerts, im seeing my favorite band next week, i might be making merch for another one of my favorite bands.... and yeah ive had shitty days and i got sick but like.. i remember those days well so the inbetween is just, that.. the in between... god idk becoming more involved in my local scene has been so fucking surreal..

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Yakuza

When your brother gets himself deep into debt, one yakuza is surprisingly willing to help you get him out. Word Count: 4.3k

When your brother asks you to visit him in Tokyo, something about his voice makes your big sister instincts buzz.

He's great at putting on a show, but there's a twinge of nervousness to him that you've seldom heard before.

You spend your first week in the city with your hackles raised, trying and failing to figure out what he's hiding from you. And you might never have figured it out.

But then he showed up.

Yandere! Yakuza who kicks open your brother's door at three in the morning, a cigarette in one hand and a baseball bat in the other.

You scramble out of bed, convinced you're about to be murdered. And it's only your brother's hand hastily slapped over your mouth that keeps you from screaming bloody murder.

"Relax, I know these guys."

Despite his words, your brother doesn't look relaxed at all. His eyes dart around the room and he balls his fists into his jeans. It's a habit he hasn't broken since childhood and before you know it, you're stepping between him and a dangerously scarred yakuza.

Your Japanese is beyond rudimentary and your course didn't exactly cover how to have conversations with members of an organised crime family, but you tilt your chin back and try to keep your voice steady.

"Naze anata ga koko ni iru no ka? [why are you here?]"

Yandere! Yakuza who shamelessly leers at your tiny summer pyjamas. He pulls at his cigarette and when he speaks, his English is heavy with an accent.

"Came to collect what he owes us."

Of all the possible answers he could have given you, that was one you don't expect in the slightest. You turn to your brother and the way he avoids your eyes is answer enough. God, how could he be so stupid? Didn't you teach him better?

Yandere! Yakuza who came prepared to smash furniture and rough up a stubborn debtor suddenly finds himself at the mercy of your glare. You're at least a foot or two shorter than him and somehow it feels like he's the one being overpowered.

"How much does he owe?"

"Sis really I can-"

Yandere! Yakuza who scoffs and names a number much, much larger than you expected. It takes every ounce of will power not to scream at your brother right then and there. How could he get himself into such a mess? He's barely been here more than six months!

Yandere! Yakuza who watches the emotions flicker across your face and has to admire the way you fight them back. The only sign of your fear is a slight tremble in your hand.

"How much do you need tonight?"

The amount he names is just about everything you have in savings. You bite your lip. One look at him tells you everything you need to know. This isn't some small time crook. The pin on his suit jacket is clear as day, even to a foreigner like you.

You pull your coat over your pyjamas and grab your handbag.

"Let's go then."

When you step out into the hall, you're met with two other Yakuza. How didn't you notice them?

You meet their eyes, trying your absolute hardest to seem unruffled. Predators get violent when they sense fear, right? So don't like them catch that smell on you, no matter how fast your heart is racing.

The night air nips at your skin as you head to the nearest ATM.

"Sis it isn't that bad, I swear -"

"We'll talk about it later, ok?"

Yandere! Yakuza who walks close behind you. You can catch the smell of his cologne - something woody and pleasantly sharp.

When you slip your card into the ATM, he leans against the wall next to you and pulls out another cigarette. He watches you while he lights it, the flame throwing his cheekbones into sharp relief.

"You got a boyfriend?"

You're genuinely surprised. Your relationship status isn't exactly on your list of things dangerous criminals should be concerned about.

"No. I don't."

He let's the smoke curl up between his teeth.

"Good. Pretty girl like you shouldn't bother with relationships."

"Why not?"

The ATM spits out your cash before he can answer.

He doesn't take the money immediately. Instead, he let's his eyes roam down your body, like he can still see what's underneath your bulky coat.

"You're never gonna pay it off at this rate."

"You're offering me advice? Didn't think that was part of your job."

"Sōde wa arimasen [it isn't]. But what kind of man would I be if I didn't help you out?"

He digs in his inner pocket and you catch a glimpse of the gun holstered under his jacket.

He pulls out a business card and scribbles something at the back of it.

"He hasn't told you, but we've got his passport. He can't leave until he's settled what he owes."

You suck in a sharp breath at that. How much worse could this situation get?

He holds out the card. "Come work for us and maybe we can work out a better deal, yeah?"

You scoff. "Does that deal involve selling my organs?"

He smiles a little at that. "Īe - no. It's easy work. Come by tomorrow and see for yourself."

You look down at the card and the hand offering it. His tattoos peak out of his sleeve, blue-black and twisting in patterns you can't recognise. Better to not offend a gangster, right?

You take the card.

"Iiko [good girl]."

He turns to go, his baseball bat slung over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow hanī [honey]."

He's barely out of sight before you're grabbing your brother's ear and dragging him back to the apartment.

You spend the rest of the night talking to - or more accurately, interrogating - your brother.

"Gambling? What the hell where you thinking?"

"I was drunk, okay?"

You hiss and rub at your temples. And the worst part? The yakuza was right. You can't pay it off. Not without a very well paying job.

His card glares at you from the kitchen table. An easy job, huh?

The address on the card leads you to a hostess club in the middle of the Red Light District.

He isn't going to kidnap you in the middle of the day in the middle of the city, right? Slightly comforted, you make your way into the club.

It's cool and dark, lit by colorful lamps more than anything. You show the card to the bartender and a few minutes later your yakuza is sitting across from you and ordering you both drinks.

Yandere! Yakuza who wears a suit in the slouched, lazy way of a school delinquent. Shirt unbuttoned so you can see the edge his tattoos and the gold chain gleaming at his neck.

He gestures at the bar and the room around you, his cigarette hanging lazily between his fingers. "The Family owns this place. And my kyodai manages it."

He studies you while he smokes, eyes dipping to your chest and lingering. "You can work as a hostess here. Make good money and we'll take a cut of it to pay off what your brother owes."

You take a sip of your drink to avoid answering him. The sake leaves a tingle on your lips.

"But I'm not exactly fluent in Japanese. How am I supposed to entertain customers?"

He grins wolfishly at you. "Just wear something tight and you won't have to talk at all."

"Perv," you mutter into your drink.

On the surface, you can't see anything wrong with his offer. It makes perfect sense - the club gets a new girl they barely have to pay and your brother's creditors don't need to keep tracking him down.

But he's a yakuza and you'd be a fool to trust him.

"Fine. I'll work here, try my hardest to learn Japanese and sell drinks."

You hold his gaze. "But I'm gone the second I think you're being shady. Got it?"

Yandere! Yakuza who smiles like he's won the lottery. "Wakatta [got it]."

When you show up later that evening, he's your first customer. He orders you a bottle of champagne and keeps topping up your glass without ever touching his own.

A few drinks in you manage to finally loosen up enough to hold a conversation. He asks you endless questions - about your childhood, your hobbies, the movies you've been watching.

But in return, he dodges any question you throw at him. "Don't ask about my family." "My childhood was boring. You don't want to hear about it." "Hobbies? Does puss-"

"No."

"Then no."

He's surprisingly fun to talk to. And when he gets a call and has to leave you, there's a pang of disappointment that you can't quite mask.

He grins and flicks your forehead. "Don't miss me too much."

When you pick up the bill, you realise he left you a hefty tip. You stare at it and then at his retreating back. Just what is his angle?

Yandere! Yakuza who's back the next day and the one after that. He sprawls in the booth like a spoiled prince, his arms thrown across the headrest and his legs spread.

"Let me teach you Japanese."

You perk up. A native teacher would be so much easier to learn from compared to the dense textbooks you've tried using.

"Repeat after me. Onegaishimasu. It means 'please'."

You try and imitate his intonation. He walks you through a few more common phrases with moderate success.

"Need to work on your accent, but that was decent. Ready to try something longer? Anata wa totemo hansamudesu ne [I think you're very handsome]."

"Anato wa...wa totemo hansam... hansamudesu ne."

He smirks at you over the rim of his glass. He seems immensely pleased.

"What does it mean?"

"Just another way to... greet someone. Kinda tricky though, so you should just use it on me."

He spends the rest of the day explaining kanji and grammar. You take notes on the back of a receipt and promise to rewrite them when you get home.

Your shift is practically over when he finally stands to leave.

"Say goodbye like I taught you."

"Anata wa totemo hansamudesu ne."

He grins at you again, his voice a bit sweeter when he replies. "Anata mo totemo kireidesu ne [you're pretty too]."

You tilt your head, struggling to understand. You don't recognise the phrase, but he's gone before you can ask what it means.

Yandere! Yakuza who requests you almost everyday. Until the house mother snaps at him to give it a rest, there are other clients who want to talk to you.

He scoffs and throws back his drink, Adam's apple bobbing like he's swallowing down his anger too.

"If they want to talk to her so bad, they should get here earlier. Watashitachiha kono basho o shoyū shite imasu [we own this place]. So go and get me my girl."

When you finally make it to his table, he's back to being all smiles. The only person who notices his jealousy is the house mother and she's far too busy to mention it.

"My head is killing me. Give me a massage please?"

He flops down into your lap before you can say no.

You sigh and run your fingers through his hair, trying to remember where the pressure points are.

Yandere! Yakuza who practically purrs at your touch. When you lift a hand away to take a sip of your water, he barely waits for you to swallow before he's dragging it back.

There's something very strange about having a deadly gangster in your lap. With his eyes closed, you can almost forget just how much he scared you when you first met. Can forget how he still scares you.

He opens his eyes and catches you studying him. He reaches up and catches your hand as you draw away from him. His touch is gentle, softer than you would expect from looking at him.

"Go on a date with me."

You aren't sure if it's an offer or a command. There's something so intimate about the way he looks at you, the club lights carving hollows into his cheeks, eyes dark and sweet.

And God help you, he's so close. Only the thin fabric of your stockings between his skin and yours.

"Okay."

His lips quirk into a half smile, boyishly handsome.

"Good. You'll like it."

By the next evening, you're already regretting your decision. What kind of idiot goes on a date with a yakuza? You blame the alcohol and the closeness of his body and your stupid, stupid hormones for getting you into this.

But when he picks you up, you find yourself smiling. He actually knocks on the apartment door this time and you open it with the full intention of teasing him.

"My brother's landlord-"

Your words die in your throat. You always knew he was handsome but the man waiting for you takes your breath away.

His hair is slicked away from his face and a sparkling cross dangles from one ear. His lazy suits are gone, replaced with a suit that's pressed and tailored. Hell, even his shirt is buttoned up properly.

He looks good. Dangerously good.

He takes you in, eyes lingering at your curves. You swallow and try not to blush. You do your hair and makeup everyday for the club and he's seen you in this dress before, but he looks at you like it's all new to him, like he wants to drink in every inch of you.

You somehow manage to find your voice and it has none of its usual bite. "You look good. Really good."

He smoothes a hand over his hair self consciously. "Arigatō. Shall we go?"

He offers you his arm and you take it, your heart thundering. He opens the car door for you and helps you in like a proper gentleman. You catch a whiff of his cologne - the same woodsy scent from the night you met.

He takes you to a skyscraper restaurant and sits down right next to the window. The city is a sparkling sprawl at your feet.

"I didn't think you'd be into a place like this," you say.

"What? You think I don't got class?" He grins and points his fork at you, "I've got the best damn taste in this whole city."

"Explains why you asked me out then."

"Obviously." He leans forward. "Only the best for my girl, yeah?"

"I'm your girl? Since when?"

"Since..." He makes a show of checking his watch. "Since the night I met you. You just didn't know it yet."

Ah, now that's one way to make a girl fall for you. And despite your better sense, you feel yourself falling.

You can still taste the lingering sweetness of dessert when he walks you back to his car. His leans against the car door and loops his arms around your waist.

"You had fun tonight?"

"Yes. More than I expected honestly."

He pulls you closer to him, softly enough that you can step back at any point. You don't.

"Gonna give me a kiss to say thank you? It's a very important part of our culture."

You clasp your hands together behind his neck.

"You liar."

He grins that boyish half smile of his. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

He doesn't feel like a gangster or a creditor or a customer. In that moment he feels like just a man - someone strong and handsome that you desperately want to kiss.

Your gaze flickers down to his lips and then back to his eyes. You pull gently at his neck and his head dips lower. You stay like that for a moment, lips almost touching. Too nervous to make the final move.

His hands move to cradle your waist and he closes the gap between you.

You pull him closer, your hands slipping from his neck to his jaw. His stubble scrapes your palm and makes your whole body tingle. He tastes of wine and sugar.

When you finally pull away, you draw your thumb across his lower lip. His eyes are half lidded and when he moves, it's with a sluggish reluctance. Like he doesn't want to let go of you.

He keeps one hand on your waist and draws out a stack of cash with the other. When he speaks, his voice is husky.

"How much for tonight?"

"What?"

His draws his hand up your waist to rest against your sternum. Like he wants to dig his hand into your heart.

"How much to take you home?"

A bucket of cold water would have been less shocking. You pull away from him, your mind racing.

God, why are you such an idiot? Of course he only wants to fuck you. He's just a thug, what did you expect?

And worse, you feel like a small part of your heart is breaking. Why be so sweet to you, why go out of his way to spend time with you, if all he wants is a one night stand?

"Are you serious?"

"Obviously. How much do you charge?"

You act without thinking and slap him right across his face.

The sound of it is terribly sharp in the open quite of the parking lot. It leaves your palm stinging. You freeze, terrified of what you've just done.

He doesn't move, his head turned to the side from the force of your slap. Slowly, he touches his fingers to his cheek. His expression is unreadable.

Oh, you're so dead. You just hit a yakuza. A guy who probably breaks faces everyday, who has who knows how many felonies to his name.

Your first instinct is to apologise, say you weren't thinking and that you're so so sorry. You lift your chin and squash down that part of you.

"I'm not for sale."

The quiet stretches out, tense and dangerous. He turns away and opens the car door for you. He doesn't meet your eyes.

"I understand now. Gomen'nasai [I'm sorry]."

The drive home is terribly quiet. You keep expecting him to lash out - hit you or humiliate you for daring to slap him like that.

He doesn't. He just keeps eyes on the road.

When you reach your building, he follows you to the door and rests his hand on the frame above your head. You can feel him behind you, close enough for his breath to tickle the back of your neck.

"I can't buy you."

"No."

"But I want you."

You pull in a shuddering breath. "Earn it."

You shut the door without turning back.

He doesn't show up at the club for the next week. At first you're on edge - what if he gets you fired? Or worse, does something to your brother?

But your boss doesn't mention anything and your brother keeps coming home in one piece. Slowly, you relax. Tell yourself that he's done with you now that you won't give him what he wants. You try and ignore the way it hurts.

When he does finally show up, he's dangerously tipsy. He yanks you out of your booth in the middle of a date and leaves the house mother to bow and apologise to the customer.

You try not to make a scene as he pulls you along behind him. But you look about desperately for any of the other yakuza. Where the hell are they when you need them?

Finally, he drops you in a booth in the corner of the club and collapses across from you. His hair is messier than you've ever seen it and there's a feverish wildness in the way he looks at you.

"Fine. I'm here. Let me earn your love."

You rub your arm and scowl at him. "Your idea of winning me over is to leave a huge bruise on my arm?"

He runs his hands through his hair. "Hell, I don't know. I've never had to win a girl over before."

"Yeah right. I've seen the girls you go out with. There's no shortage of women in your life."

He looks you in the eye. "Bought and paid for." He gestures at the table and at you. "Not like this. Not like you."

That gives you pause. It makes sense. Gangsters don't exactly have the time to go on Sunday morning brunch dates or meet the family.

"So why not just pay someone else?"

You don't say it out loud but the rest of your question is clear. Why me?

"I...I don't want to. Setsumei suru no wa totemo muzukashīdesu [It's so hard to explain]. But I don't want anyone else."

A confession from a yakuza was not at all on your list on fun and lighthearted tourist activities. You're not entirely sure how to deal with it.

Your sense is screaming at you to be smart. And when is dating a criminal ever smart? You're supposed to get yourself and your brother away from the underworld, not get roped deeper in. And what happens if you want to break up? When has a man with a gun and too many scars ever taken a heartbreak well?

And yet...

You want him. Stupidly, against all sense, you want to be with him. He's dangerous. He probably only wants to fuck you. He has too much power over your life. He might never let you leave him.

And still you want him.

You take a deep breath. "Come over tonight and I'll cook you something. And if my cooking doesn't change your mind then... then we can talk about it."

He smiles at you and the wild look in his eye seems to finally dim.

"Anata ga watashi o oidasou to shite mo dekinakatta [Baby, you couldn't get rid of me if you tried]."

You weren't lying when you said you were a terrible cook. When he finally arrives, the rice is somehow both burnt and slightly undercooked and your curry is severely under-salted.

You scrunch your nose when you take a bite. "This is awful."

"You cooked it." He takes another bite. "And I hate to say it, but I've had worse."

You push your bowl away and mutter, "I didn't think rice could be so complicated. I followed the instructions and everything."

He takes another bite. "I can make decent rice. And udon."

"So between the two of us, there's only one good cook? Shameful."

He adds some salt to his bowl. "Neither of us ever has the time to cook anyway, so I don't know why you're surprised."

You shake your head and watch him. He's halfway through your abysmal culinary concoction and somehow not green in the face.

"You never talk about yourself," you tell him.

He avoids your eyes. "I'm not that interesting."

"But I am?"

"Yes." There's a quiet fierceness to his answer that makes your heart stutter.

"Tell me a secret about yourself."

It's his turn to study you. "A secret."

"That's what I said."

He considers you for a long moment before reaching up and undoing his shirt buttons. He turns his back to you and let's his shirt fall away.

You gasp. His tattoo covers his entire back. It's every bit as intricate as you suspected - there's lotus flowers between his shoulder blades and a spider inked below his ribcage.

But it's the snake that takes up most of the space. It curls and unwinds across his back, every scale painstakingly inked. It's hissing mouth rests on his shoulder blade, opposite his heart.

He flinches when you touch him, but doesn't ask you to stop. You run your fingertips up his back, tracing the snakes coiling body.

"It's incredible."

He doesn't answer you. Eventually your fingers come to rest on his neck.

He reaches back and takes hold of your wrist. He draws it forward and tilts his head to press a kiss against your pulse. You wonder if he can feel the way your heart jumps when he touches you.

"Do you want to know the real secret? I go home at night and lie awake thinking about you."

You lean forward and rest your forehead against his bare back. "What do you think about?"

He inhales sharply. "Your voice... your lips... your body."

You laugh a little and your warm breath on his skin makes him shiver. "You're shameless."

"Mattaku hajishirazuna [totally shameless]."

You tilt his head towards you and kiss his cheek.

You can feel him smile against your lips. When you pull away, he turns to you and cups your jaw.

Your Japanese has gotten better, but you don't understand what he whispers before he kisses you.

"Watashi Kazu anata ni koiwoshiteiru, soshite watashi wa tomaranai [I'm falling in love with you and I can't stop]."

He presses his lips against yours, so much hungrier this time. His hand slips from your cheek to the nape of your neck to pull you closer to him.

"My girl, my pretty girl. Hanaretakute mo hanare rarenakatta [I couldn't let you go even if I wanted to]."

He presses hot kisses against your throat. His grip on your neck almost painfully tight.

"Hitsuyōniōjite, anata no kyōdai ni wa nan-nen mo shakkin o showa seru koto ni narudeshou [gonna keep your brother in debt for years if I have to]."

The rest of his sentence is little more than a growl. "Nanrakano hōhō de anata ni watashi o aishite morau tsumoridesu [gonna make you love me back one way or another]."

The one downside of courting a yakuza is not understanding everything he says. But maybe it's safer that way.

[nexus-nebulae]

us getting any new introject: show them How To Train Your Dragon! show them How To Train Your Dragon! show them How To Train Your Dragon!!!!!

[lokissweater]

i know your name ✭

{gojo satoru x f!reader}

summary: gojo satoru was practically everyone’s god as his shiny charming reputation has followed him ever since high school and through college— his band he had with his best friend suguru packing the local college pub every night just to see him sing and play the bass. unbeknownst to you, satoru has been keeping an eye on you, and when you officially meet him right before one of his shows, satoru just about falls to his knees over you.

warnings: MDNI. college au, CAR SMUT be patient!!, fingering, squirting, a bit of oral hehe, cursing, angst, FLUFFF, FILTHY DIRTY TALK, a sprinkle of degradation, tinyyy mentions of alcohol and drinking, gojo is obsessed with reader, afab!reader, jealousy.

word count: 8.8k

authors note: oh my goodness this one took me a FAT MINUTE but it’s SO SO CUTE and i hope you all think so too!! thank you thank you for all of your notes on my works!! MWAHH.

————————————————————————

“please come with me to the alley, i don’t think i can handle one moron and an even bigger moron by myself.”

shoko shimmied her jacket onto her shoulders, a disgruntled and pleading look on her face as she turned to face you. “they’re only playing a few songs, and you don’t have to drink!”

you laughed softly. “who’s they?”

“suguru and satoru, they’re playing at the alley.”

“gojo satoru?”

the cogs in your brain spun as you gnawed at the inside of your cheek, a bit apprehensive. the alley was the place everyone went to at your college to get drunk and laid, and it also happened to be the place where the two boys played their band almost every night— satoru mainly having connections with the owner of the bar to even allow a bunch of college kids to trash the place to begin with.

you didn’t necessarily know satoru, but in your years of observing him back in high school, you knew he was viewed by anyone and everyone as a god, his reputation shiny and impressive as he had the greatest charisma and charm you had ever seen.

you remember back to when basically every other day he was getting confessed to in the halls or in class— or after school… or literally anywhere now that you thought about it.

but satoru has never been prideful or rude, even though it was something that was supposed to be written for him being the most popular guy— but he just simply didn’t follow it.

satoru was kind. really kind. and even though he got millions of confessions per year, he treated each rejection with gentleness and respect, never turning a cold eye to anyone as he apologized profusely and tried to help them feel better.

he always volunteered to do your class banners and plan your school’s activities, festivals, and field trips so nobody else had the burden of missing out on the fun. he always helped out the gardener after school and watered the plants with them (soon after practically taking over the entire shift for free and telling them to relax on a bench), tutored his friends and peers when they asked him for help, and made anyone that felt left out feel included.

that’s why he was so popular. gojo satoru was a ray of sunshine with bright blue eyes and white ruffly hair, with a gorgeous face that you never saw without a smile— loud and obnoxious and a little clumsy, but kind.

“i still don’t know why they started a band.. but they get pretty big tips every night so i guess that’s why,” shoko muttered, sipping the last of her iced tea as she got up from her seat— the cafe you were both sitting in quiet and warm as you copied her actions and stood. “or could be because satoru likes the attention.”

you weren’t close with suguru or satoru like shoko was, and you’ve never even properly met them either, but you always listened to her whenever she’d complain and understood her completely nonetheless.

you laughed at her last comment and smiled. “i’ll go… but i can only stay for two songs! i have class at seven am tomorrow.”

she smiled wide and threw her arms around you, “thank you thank you thank you!”

you’ve never actually been to the alley before, only having heard about it through the grapevine and from your other classmates that went, parties and concerts and drinking never really on the schedule for you. you honestly loved parties and concerts, and you loved the idea of hanging out with people and doing whatever your hearts desired until the sun came up.

but ever since you started college, your high school group kind of disappeared, and now you only really have one true best friend that you preferred over anything else, that being shoko. your nights are usually always calm and filled with studying or self care, your little life quiet and independent as you navigated through the days on your own.

and although you were a bit lonely at times, yearning for another soul to share your nights with, you learned to enjoy your own company.

the alley was a couple of blocks down from the cafe you and shoko were originally at, your ears already picking up on the vibrations of guitars and drums from outside as she approached the bouncer at the front, not even being able to get a word in before the big man was already telling her no.

“no?!” shoko dug into her purse and pulled out her phone. “i was literally here last week, i’m friends with the band that’s playing.”

“sorry we’re at max capacity—”

“it’s okay, they both can come in. they’re on stage with us.”

your eyes snapped to the door and you recognized geto suguru, his long jet black hair cascading down to his shoulders as he sported an all black outfit— politely smiling at the bouncer.

the man moved to the side and ushered us in, shoko’s shoulders dropping in relief as you both walked in and over to a table by the stage. “thank you suguru.”

he nodded. “if i don’t, satoru will throw another fit again and say you don’t love him if you don’t show up.”

shoko rolled her eyes and looked at you, her lips pressed into a thin line. “you see what i mean?”

“shoko!” a loud, booming and enthusiastic voice rang through the pub as you turned, spotting none other than satoru with his long arms open, more or less throwing himself on her. “you came!”

“you threatened me—”

“i did no such thing!” he sprung back. “are you not here out of the goodness of your heart? to support your two best boys living their dreams?”

“no.”

“shokooo!” he whined and you giggled, which caused him to snap his head in your direction, finally noticing your presence.

her.

“oh! hello,” he smiled kindly to you and extended his hand. “i’m satoru, and you are?”

“y/n!” you grinned sweetly and politely to him, taking his cold hand in yours and shaking it.

“are you a friend of shoko’s?”

you nodded.

he cocked his head to the side, “how come i’ve never seen you around?”

“oh i don’t go out too often, that’s probably why,” you laughed lightly, a little embarrassed by your answer.

he beamed anyways, his smile so big and brilliant that you were starting to see for yourself exactly why everyone loved him so much, not that you didn’t already know the reason behind it in the first place.

“me neither!”

satoru was still holding your hand.

“yes you do!” shoko scoffed. “you’re barely ever at your apartment and i always have to be your designated driver—”

he gawked, glaring at her. “that’s not true! i was home yesterday!”

“because you were hungover.” suguru mumbled.

you laughed again, and satoru turned back to face you, a grin on his face.

just then, a rather large group of guys started making their way towards your area, all beckoning and calling for satoru while holding up several shot glasses, his head snapping towards their direction and flashing a dazzling smile.

“satoru come!”

“satoru take some with us!”

he gently let go of your hand and raised his, waving high as he readjusted his black round sunglasses up the bridge of his nose, “give me a second! i’ll be over!”

satoru turned back to you, resuming the conversation.

“sorry, she lies. she likes to lie. i’m glad i didn’t go to high school with her.”

“yes we did— i’m going over to your followers and stealing a shot, goodbye.” shoko grumbled, throwing her purse on the table and walking away, dragging suguru along with her.

“we actually um..” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “we went to high school together.”

“oh i know.”

your eyebrows pinched together.

he knows?

“you used to water the garden on days i couldn’t afterschool, right?”

your eyes widened a little.

“oh! and you used to fix the class banners whenever i didn’t notice my fuck up, which was always.” he patted the top of your head and laughed, “thank you for that by the way.”

“you knew?” you murmured, a rosy tint to your cheeks.

“duh,” his eyes softened. “i’m sorry i never thanked you properly then.”

you shook your head dumbly, a little spaced out as you took in what he said. “no it’s okay.”

your eyes then fell to the instruments and band set up behind him, suddenly remembering that he was performing tonight.

“so what do you guys play?” you spoke up gently, hands wringing behind your back. “do you play original songs? or covers?”

“covers! 80’s covers.” he explained excitedly. “suguru and i switch off singing. i play the bass and he plays the guitar, and we have a couple of extra friends in the back playing the drums and keyboard.”

your eyes sparkled as you watched the stage set up process, black chords scattered everywhere on the ground in disarray as several individuals on the platform tuned their instruments or plucked out a few notes.

“80’s?” you perked up. “what kind of 80’s?”

“what kind?”

“yeah! morissey? the cure? new order—”

satoru was awestruck, mouth slightly parted. “you know who they are?”

you quickly nodded, a cute smile on your face.

“you like the cure?” he asked quietly.

“i love the cure.”

satoru practically had hearts in his eyes as he beamed down at you with a stupid face, his heart a little frazzled with a familiar feeling sparkling in his chest.

“satoru!”

he snapped out of his trance and spun around, suguru on stage beckoning him over. “sorry, we have to start.”

“okay!” he walked backwards as he quickly faced you again and smiled, a little frantic. “i’ll talk to you after we play! i’m gonna quiz you on it so pay attention!”

you laughed, your hand covering your mouth a bit as you nodded. “is it counting towards my grade? or is it extra credit?”

“extra credit if you go on a date with me after the show!”

you stopped.

“she can’t! moron,” shoko suddenly appeared beside you and threw an arm around your shoulder. “she’s only staying for two songs!”

gojo’s jaw dropped slack, his shoulders slumping as he got up on stage, arms out. “two?!”

you grimaced, an apologetic look on your face and kind of feeling like a lame grandma as you nodded, “i have class at seven am tomorrow!”

before he could even respond, satoru got pulled by tech crew to test out his microphone, and you and shoko gradually settled yourselves on the high bar stool chairs at your table.

“odd,” she muttered with a funny look on her face.

“hm? what is?” your eyes switched to hers.

“satoru’s never asked a girl out before.”

your eyes bulged open. “never?”

“never.” shoko sipped a little at her beer and gave you a comforting smile. “i’ve always seen girls try it with him and ask him out or simply just follow him around like a lost dog, but he’s never gone after anyone.”

you watched a little smirk spread across her face, and your hands grew a tiny bit sweaty as you swallowed thickly.

“if you’re interested in him, there’s a line. but i think you have a head start.”

the music started— suguru introducing himself, satoru, and the band calm and pleasantly before they began playing their first song. it was loud and rhythmic, vibrations murmuring through the floor as your glass of water shook on the table with every note.

they weren’t bad at all— they were actually pretty good, really good, and you found yourself not really wanting to admit it since it seemed like satoru was good at a million different things regardless of category or genre.

“do they have a name for their band?!” you yelled over the music, leaning your frame a little closer to her without taking your eyes off of the stage.

shoko snorted, “the strongest monkeys.”

you threw your head back and laughed loudly, looking at her incredulously. “really?!”

as he performed on stage, satoru noticed you laugh and he smiled against the microphone, a vision he connected back to high school, and for reasons he couldn’t explain, he was internally a little unsteady as your pretty eyes watched him play and sing— feeling embarrassed whenever he would trip over a chord clumsily like he seemed to do at every freaking show, but feeling better seeing as it made you giggle.

by the end of their second song, you showed shoko the time on your phone and tried to stand as discretely as possible in attempts at not disturbing anyone around you, grabbing your purse from the arm of your chair and swinging it over your shoulder.

but when you looked up, satoru was already looking at you as suguru spoke through the microphone, his eyes wide and pleading as he held up his index finger.

“one more song!” he mouthed. “please.”

you gnawed at your bottom lip anxiously, your eyes darting around the pub and back to the time on your phone before they landed again on satoru.

“stay.” he mouthed again.

and for reasons you couldn’t explain, your body pulled you back down on the stool and you sat— shoko quirking an eyebrow at you in confusion.

satoru’s face broke out into the brightest smile, a smile equivalent to the blinding rays of the sun as he pushed up his round sunglasses and gave you a cute thumbs up.

“thank you.”

and your heart stuttered.

you eventually decided to stay for the rest of the show, seeing as it was already late as fuck anyways— and they played few more songs then, a mix of well known 80’s songs as well as a few underrated ones, your head nodding gently to the beat and swaying your little shoulders. in the midst of it, satoru had been watching and glancing in your direction so many times throughout the show, that he subconsciously started mimicking your little shoulder sway on stage as he performed.

college girls screamed practically every five minutes when the boys did anything, some even going as far as running up the platform and reaching up for satoru’s hands or ankles as he played, him smiling bright at each and every one of them with shoko shaking her head in disappointment— her forehead falling to the palm of her hand as you laughed.

ironically by the end of it, the band closed with the cure, and as the crowd dispersed and several took their leave from the alley— some shouting words of praise at the boys, you and shoko stood and walked over to the stage. satoru in a heartbeat noticed you coming over and hooked his mic quickly back on the mic stand, tossing the strap of his bass over his shoulders and setting it down before hopping off stage.

“did you like it?” he panted hopefully, trying to catch his breath as his forehead glistened with sweat, his hands on his hips.

you smiled gently. “i did! good job, you both played really great songs.”

suguru gave you a small smile in gratitude from the platform as he unplugged and untangled a few chords— and satoru beamed, nodding. “i’m glad! okay, here comes your quiz!”

“oh god.”

“we played the cure at the end…” satoru dragged out.

“mhm…”

“what song?” he tilted his head to the side, and your cheeks went pink as you grinned.

“pictures of you,” you replied softly. “it’s my favorite one.”

satoru’s forehead fell to rest against your shoulder, and your eyes widened in surprise.

“i would expect nothing less from you, y/n.”

you hummed out a laugh, and his heart did a tiny somersault at the sound before he picked his head back up and looked at you softly.

“thank you for staying.”

shoko bounded over to you then and looped her arm through yours. “ready to go?”

you nodded quickly before smiling sweetly at satoru. “i’ll see you around! thank you for—”

“wait!” he shot his arms out frantically with wide eyes. “what about our date?”

you froze. “our date?”

“unless you want the quiz to count towards your grade…” he mumbled lowly, eyes darting on everything and everywhere except you with pinky cheeks.

“i didn’t think you were being serious about that..” you spoke gently.

his eyebrows furrowed. “why not?”

“because you’re gojo satoru,” shoko butt in.

you quickly flicked her forehead— your lips pressed into a thin line, earning a little laugh from satoru as you turned your head to look at him again.

“i have an early class tomorrow… ill see you around though, okay?”

without thinking, satoru reached over and placed a hand on your shoulder, gently turning you to face him.

“let me take you to class.”

shoko and suguru exchanged a look and your lips parted, eyebrows pinching together.

“what?”

“i’ll take you to class in the morning,” he looked desperate. “and i won’t count the quiz towards your grade.”

you were skeptical, very skeptical, unsure of what satoru wanted from you in this situation. you had just met him, properly at least, and though you knew he was a good person, you weren’t sure if that was still relevant in the field of picking up girls.

you looked to shoko, who shrugged, and your eyes landed back to satoru’s pleading one’s, your entire body and soul hesitating.

“i—” you gnawed at your bottom lip, a nervous habit as you took in the way he looked like a sad little puppy the longer you took to respond, your heart not having the ability to ever say no to anyone, ever. not even him.

“okay.”

his shoulders relaxed, and he let out a puff of relieved air as he gave you the biggest smile, nodding hopefully.

“okay! h—here-” he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone. “if i could— if i could have your number? and i’ll text you when im on my way and stuff…”

you shakily took satoru’s phone, the screen already opened up to the ‘add contact’ feature as you typed in your number before passing it back to him.

“thank you!” he beamed. “i’ll see you tomorrow then?”

he was so excited, and you really didn’t know why, but you couldn’t help but give him a sweet smile of yours in return, nodding.

“see you.”

when you finally arrived home that night, it didn’t take satoru even ten minutes after that to text you.

(unknown): i have good news for you miss y/n

you stared at your phone, your heart jumping a bit as you typed back a response.

(you): and i have bad news for you satoru

(satoru): WHAT

(satoru): ok wait me first

(satoru): congrats you passed my class!! that quiz bumped up your grade from 0% to 100% ur so smart

(satoru): but if your bad news is you rejecting me i’m FAILING you

(you): HAHAHAHA

(you): silly silly

(you): my bad news was that i always have banana milk on my way to school in the mornings and unfortunately i don’t have any extra for you :(

(you): i ran out ;(

within the two minutes that it took for you to respond with your declared bad news, satoru was absolutely shitting it, wholeheartedly believing you were going to reject him and leave him to dramatically rot away all alone.

he replied quickly, a goofy smile on his face.

(satoru): that’s literally the only reason why i asked you out :(

(you): and how do you know i have banana milk in the mornings before school?

(satoru): OH

(satoru): SO ABOUT TOMORROW

you giggled, wiping the last of your makeup off and turning off your vanity light before jumping into bed, snuggling into your covers as the cool air softly touched your face from your open window.

(you): *address*

(you): pick me up at 6:30 please, if that’s okay :)

(satoru): i’ll pick you up at six miss y/n

(you): SIX WHY

(satoru): for a breakfast date silly!! okay goodnight xoxo

you hadn’t even realized the huge stupid smile on your face until your rosy cheeks started to ache.

(you): HAHAHA

(you): goodnight <3

a heart?!

satoru stuffed his face into his pillow, feeling like little love birdies were flying around his head and pecking at his hair.

the following morning, you ran your fingers through your hair and probably fixed your outfit a million trillion times before you were satisfied, a huge lump in your throat as you gnawed so much at your bottom lip that it drew blood.

you were nervous, but why? you didn’t know why. maybe because it was gojo satoru picking you up. maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t had a guy try to hit on you in what felt like a decade, the last time really being the last day of high school when you randomly found a note in your locker, the words literally illegible.

maybe it was the fact that satoru was the most handsome man you have ever seen.

but so was he to everybody else.

(satoru): i’m outside! :]

you wiped your clammy hands on your legs and stood, hiking your school bag further up your shoulder before walking down the stairs and out the door, seeing satoru seated in his car in your driveway.

you timidly opened the door to the passenger side and stepped in.

“hi!” he greeted cheerfully and proceeded to place his hand on the back of your headrest as he backed out, looking through his rear view mirror.

“hi!” you said gently. “you’re not tired?”

“nuh uh,” he smiled at you. “i had three energy drinks before i got you.”

your head instantly whipped in his direction. “satoru— three?!”

he giggled at your reaction, the sides of his blue eyes crinkling as he patted your head. “don’t worry silly, i’ve had maybe five at a time before—”

“five?!”

you slumped against the passenger seat and closed your eyes. “satoru, you’re gonna develop heart problems if you keep this up.”

“nah,” he reached into the backseat, his eyes still on the road. “i’m the strongest.”

and you snorted then, watching him retrieve two small bottles of juice from the back without taking his eyes off of the road.

“i got us orange juice— wait do you like orange juice? oh fuck maybe—”

you giggled and waved him off, taking both bottles from his hands. “it’s okay! i do like orange juice, thank you.” you settled them on your lap neatly. “i’ll hold them while you drive.”

“aww thanks sweets,” he murmured affectionately, and your face instantly went warm to the touch.

“i also got us breakfast bagels so we can sit and people watch before your class—” his eyes snapped to yours. “if— if that’s okay.”

your heart skipped a beat at his planning, nodding as you reached into your school bag and pulled out a little yellow carton, holding it out for him as he drove.

satoru tore his gaze away from the road momentarily and looked, his eyebrows furrowing.

“your daily morning banana milk?”

you smiled softly, nudging it towards him. “for you.”

he physically melted as he looked at your sweet sweet face and back towards the road.

“you’re giving up your banana milk— for me?”

you tore off the straw from the back of the milk box, sticking it through the little opening and offering it to him again.

“yup yup.”

he bit his lower lip as he gratefully took the milk box from you, giddy and flustered on the inside as he took tiny sips.

“an absolute delicacy, thank you miss y/n.”

before you even realized it, satoru was already pulling in to the campus parking lot, shifting his gear into park and turning off the ignition before opening his door.

“don’t move!” he sputtered suddenly. “don’t touch that door hold on—”

he slammed his door shut and you watched quizzically as he ran across the front of the car and opened the door for you, flashing an award winning smile that could shatter the earth if he wanted to.

you still couldn’t piece together why he was doing so much for you or why he was interested in the first place, but as you watched him set up the breakfast bagels cutely as you both sat on the bench, him carefully handing you yours along with your orange juice, you didn’t really have the heart to ask him why.

maybe it was the more selfish side of you, the one that always longed to share little moments like this with another being, the one that always spent her days alone watching movies or doing little crafts in her room to keep the time going, a bittersweet feeling in your chest every time you saw your classmates or casual friends post about their parties or outings.

you hadn’t realized that you didn’t respond to whatever satoru had said, and you snapped out of it.

“fuck— i’m sorry satoru, i spaced out.” you laughed softly. “what were you saying?”

he stared at you, his eyes examining your face. “what’s wrong?”

“huh?”

“what were you thinking about?”

“it was— it was nothing,” you took a sip of your orange juice. “i forgot.”

satoru shoved his face close to yours, your breath hitching and your cheeks growing pink as you watched his eyes scan every part of you, his expression concerned.

“something’s bothering you,” he hummed. “am i being too forward? i’m— i’m sorry sometimes i don’t even realize—“

“no!” you shot your arms out frantically and placed them on his shoulders, “no, it’s not that, you’re okay satoru. everything you’ve done has been really nice, so thank you.”

your voice was so sweet as you spoke to him, and even though it made him feel better to some degree, he still couldn’t shake the empty and sad look he saw on your face when you were spaced out.

he slowly retreated back and hesitantly nodded as you placed your hands back on your lap, your fingers then tearing a piece from your breakfast bagel and plopping it into your mouth.

“did you ever find…” he spoke in between bites. “a note in your locker the last day of high school?”

your eyebrows furrowed, taken aback. “how do you know about that?”

he swallowed, a sheepish look on his face. “that was me. i put that note in.”

your eyes widened as your body completely froze over, putting your bagel down— the wrapper crinkling underneath as you did so.

“really?”

satoru nodded, his flushed cheeks prominent on his pale skin as he suddenly found his bagel super interesting to look at.

“what did it say?”

he looked at you baffled. “what did it say? what do you mean?”

you giggled then, your hand covering your mouth as you leaned forward a little bit. “i could— i could barely read it. the handwriting-“

“oh my fucking god!” satoru threw his arms up in despair. “that explains so much. i was so sad i straight up thought you hated me.”

you stopped. “what do you mean?”

“i wrote my name and how i thought you were really pretty, and then i wrote my number at the bottom.” he dropped his shaking head in his hands, laughing. “but i wrote it really fast because i saw you coming so i just stuffed it in there.”

he slumped over his legs on the bench, his elbows on his knees as he moaned.

“you think i’m pretty?” you asked softly.

he turned his head to the side as he was hunched over, sunglasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he smiled gently. “very.”

gojo satoru thought you were pretty.

you smiled cutely at him, reaching out and pushing his sunglasses back up his eyes, yours warm and endearing. “silly.”

you leaned back on the bench and giggled. “to be fair satoru, even if i was able to read your note, i probably would’ve thought it was a prank.”

“a prank? why?” his shoulders deflated, an unamused look on his face. “because i’m ‘gojo satoru’ like shoko said—”

“no,” you pushed. “because you’re a good person. you always go above and beyond for others and i’ve seen that as long as i’ve known you.”

you crossed a leg over the other and smiled softly. “and because of that i’m really not sure why you like me satoru, i haven’t really done anything special but—”

“what you just said is a crime. the way you think about me is the way i think about you.” he cut in, eyes serious. “you think you don’t do anything special? i literally watched you all through high school bend over backwards for people, for me, like i did,“ he sighed through his nose. “but your intentions were genuine and pure, mine were not.”

he finished the last of his bagel and crumpled up the wrapper into a ball, tossing it in the trash can next to him as he leaned back.

satoru swallowed. “i feel like if i don’t do the things that i do for people, ill end up disappointing everyone i know. i feel like everyone’s built this image of me that i don’t even know where the fuck it came from—” he shook his head. “but i don’t want to tarnish that. i don’t want to let people down. so i just let them ask me for stuff. i don’t even like going out that much either, believe it or not. i just go when they call.”

he crossed his arms. “whenever people do do something in return for me, it’s like i’m forever in their debt and they’re always expecting something from me back.”

your sad eyes softened, the confession in front of you a reaction from him you realized must’ve been buried deep deep down his chest— without any prior chance of resurfacing until this very moment.

you never thought about his situation this way. you would’ve never thought that satoru could’ve felt like this about his own reputation, something you guiltily believed was a thing he was absolutely floored over.

“you never expected anything back from me though,” he murmured. “you fixed my fucked up banners and switched around reservations when i absentmindedly chose the wrong thing for our school field trips, and you never said a word about it to me or anyone, and you didn’t expect anything back.”

he finally turned his bright blue eyes in your direction, and looked at you so deeply, so sincerely, that your mind went completely blank.

“that’s why i like you,” satoru bashfully scratched his cheek. “you do special things everyday and— and i was moved.”

there was a moment of silence, satoru staring at the ground as you stared at him, a delicate and insecure side of him unfolding before you that you don’t think anyone has ever seen, and you intended to keep it that way— wanting this special moment selfishly just for you.

you slowly leaned forward then as you made him look at you.

“its natural for you to be upset and think indifferently about people walking all over you, toru. it doesn’t mean you’re not genuine or pure.”

raising your arm, you poked his pink cheek gently and gave him a little comforting smile. “it actually only further solidifies to me how much of a good person you are. because even though people take advantage of your kindness, you help them with what they need regardless, and do way more.”

his eyes softened.

“at the end of the day, even though it makes you a little mad, you want to help people, because if you didn’t, you simply wouldn’t do it.”

you nudged his shoulder playfully with yours, “but not anymore, okay? from now on when people are blatantly taking advantage of how nice you are, you have to draw a line they can’t cross.”

he smiled wide.

“i’d let you cross it.”

“no not even me,” you shook your head. “not that’d i’d ever anyways.”

he looked at you, and then unexpectedly, satoru slowly leaned in and pressed a delicate, soft kiss to your cheek— his lips lingering there greedily for a few seconds more before pulling away, your shocked bright pink cheeks making him burst out laughing.

you missed class without even realizing, but you didn’t have an ounce of care in your body, seeing as satoru was worth more than anything from that point on.

since then you both hung out a lot more, and you still had your little quiet nights of self care, arts and crafts, and movies— except now, satoru was present in every activity.

satoru longed for your lifestyle, and you longed for his— so the act of watching movies together until two in the morning, making horrific origami bird shapes that never looked like the pictures in the instruction manual and laughing, sorting through his 80’s cd collection in his apartment while he sampled a few for you on his bass, and singing the cure so loud through his car sunroof while he drove you aimlessly at night with a strong grip on your thigh, were all a perfect blend of exactly what you both needed most.

it was several months of spending every waking moment together that you soon eventually became a little thing with satoru. there wasn’t an official label, and you guys hadn’t even kissed, but the longer than normal embraces, kisses on each others cheeks, and intertwined fingers everywhere you went was an obvious sign that something was there.

you picked up on how people looked at you more often rather quickly ever since satoru started bringing you around his circle, wondering how you came out of nowhere and captured his attention when thousands had tried for years.

and though most welcomed you with open arms and kind smiles, the majority of his girl fan base was bitter.

shoko often told you to just shake it off and not pay any mind to it, saying that it was a bunch of mean girls with nothing better to do, but it got a little harder once a pretty black haired girl named lina started grabbing satoru for conversations almost every night at the alley.

and today was no different.

“hi sweets!” satoru greeted you enthusiastically, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek as you arrived early to the pub to help him and suguru set up for tonight’s show. “you look very pretty today.”

“thank you!” you smiled wide and leaned up on your tippy toes, your body automatically pulling your lips to his until you quickly steered them to the corner of his mouth, pecking lightly before settling back down on the soles of your feet.

that wasn’t the first time you had almost accidentally kissed him, but it wasn’t just you, as satoru slipped up almost every second of every day when you both were together— the thought making you laugh internally as you followed him to the stage.

“don’t help out this time—” he pleaded gently with you as he took a high barstool chair for you and dragged it closer to the stage. “i want you to just sit and be pretty.”

you tilted your head to the side. “why toru? i don’t mind helping out i like it—”

“no i know!” he smiled sweetly at you. “but i want you to just sit there and relax and not lift a finger tonight. you’ll hurt yourself if you do.”

you giggled softly and nodded, hopping up on the stool and wringing your fingers together on your lap as you watched satoru set up his amp and readjust his mic stand, gnawing on your bottom lip as you watched the way his biceps and chest looked in his black compression tee.

“are you thirsty sweets?” he asked, his eyes trained to the ground as he untangled a bunch of chords and threw them behind him. “i can get you something from the bar?”

“oh no!” you shook your head quickly. “it’s okay toru you’re busy—”

satoru hopped off the stage and jogged over to the bar, him exchanging a few words with the bartender that you couldn’t quite make out until he jogged back over with a cold glass of sugary iced tea, placing it on your table under a coaster.

“for you.”

you smiled sheepishly, “thank you.”

“if you need—”

“satoru! hey!”

you snapped your head over to the entrance and saw lina, her wave a little flirty as she bounced over to the both of you.

lina only spared you a glance before her sparkling suggestive eyes landed back on satoru.

“oh hey?” he looked over at the clock on the wall. “im sorry, the alley doesn’t open for another two hours—”

“oh i know!” she twirled a strand of hair with her fingers. “i just wanted to stop by and see if you needed any help? you know, setting up?”

what.

your eyebrows pinched together and you looked at satoru, waiting for his answer.

“oh! um— sure! thanks!” he smiled at her, and you felt a pang of annoyance through your chest as you watched him lead her on stage and give her directions, much like how he did for you when you helped out.

you crossed a leg over the other and looked away.

satoru wasn’t your boyfriend, so it wasn’t like you could say anything or feel the way that you did… but then again, isn’t he kind of? you didn’t know, and the more you wracked your brain to try and figure out what exactly the both of you were, the angrier you got at the situation in front of you.

satoru flashed lina his world famous dazzling smile, cracked joke after joke and made her laugh, helped her when she went “confused” and helpless, and even showed her basic chords on his bass when she asked.

you pursed your lips, eyes narrowed. satoru was smiling at her the way he smiled at you and cracking jokes the way he joked with you, and your jealousy only grew as you let your mind wander if the way satoru treated you was actually anything significant if he was willing to do it for some random girl.

you sat there for what had felt like forever, people starting to pile in for the show as the alley opened, and you hopped off the stool bitterly to cool off in the restroom, not bothering to let satoru know.

just as you got in line, you felt a hand tug at your wrist.

“y/n!”

you turned around and spotted shoko, smiling until she took in your annoyed expression.

“what’s wrong?”

“lina,” you muttered.

“oh god,” shoko leaned her weight on one side of her hip. “what the fuck is she doing now?”

“satoru help me, satoru how many chords does a bass have? satoru you’re so good at singing! satoru you owe me after this!” you mimicked, your heart heavy as you let shoko lead you back to your table.

“she’s getting braver,” she muttered. “say the word y/n and i’ll fake trip and spill my drink on her it’s easy—”

you snorted, “no no, it’s okay shoko. if satoru wants to let himself be drooled over and do nothing about it in respects to me, he can be my guest.”

the show started, girls already screaming and running up the stage with, of course, lina front and center by satoru, jumping and wiggling her sick fingers up at him.

satoru was like he normally was at his shows— attentive to everyone and being just who he is, but what ticked you off more than usual was how much attention he was paying to lina, way more than the rest, and you couldn’t even watch the stage anymore when satoru reached down and held her hand for a moment, not once glancing up at you.

you were done.

“i think i’m gonna go!” you shouted to shoko over the music.

“what?!” shoko grabbed your arm. “don’t go! it’s almost over! i wanna see you chew him out!”

you laughed and shook your head. “i can’t stand being here, and he clearly doesn’t care whether i’m here or not right now so—”

more screams.

both of your heads snapped to the source.

lina was on stage with him.

you scoffed and grabbed your purse, ignoring shoko’s protests as you pushed your way through the crowd and away from the stage.

when satoru finally decided to scan for you through the pub, his eyebrows furrowed as he saw your seat empty and shoko glaring straight murderous daggers at him.

“where is she going?” he mouthed to shoko.

“home!” she spat loudly, getting up herself and disappearing through the crowd.

satoru’s eyes immediately widened, his fingers clammy and numb as he started to pluck the wrong notes, suguru giving him a weird look.

“carry the show without me,” satoru quickly told him, frantic. “please, i have to go.”

suguru nodded and waved him off, seeming like he knew why satoru’s skin was sickishly pale as he carried on calmly.

it wasn’t like you to just leave without him or not tell him anything, so as he threw the strap of his bass over his shoulders and handed it to a tech member, he hopped off stage and ran through the crowd, ignoring their pleas of protest or the tugging he felt at his clothes.

you were halfway down the parking lot when you heard the pub door slam open and footsteps running towards you.

“sweets!—” satoru yelled. “hey- where are you going?!”

“home!” you yelled over your shoulder, arms crossed as you kept walking.

satoru’s stomach dropped.

“y/n!” he caught up to you and grabbed your shoulders, spinning you around as he tried to catch his breath. “why? are you okay?”

“just fine!” you spat. “why don’t you go back on stage and drool all over lina—”

“lina?” he gawked. “drool? what are you talking—”

you shrugged his hands off of your shoulders. “do you not see how she’s been all over you for what seems like fucking months?! and you just let her! i’ve been ignoring it but today you really pissed me off—”

you turned away again and he immediately grabbed your waist with his hands, pulling you back.

“hey- no. tell me what i did okay just tell me—”

you scoffed. “you really don’t see it? first of all she came to the alley two fucking hours early today, and then she’s all over you and you’re all over her and you’re smiling at her and making her laugh like you do with me, and then she’s playing the little damsel in distress helping you set up while i just sat there and watched—”

“all over her?” his eyes narrowed. “i couldn’t give less of a shit about lina—”

“apparently you do!” you moved away from him, his hands falling from your hips. “because she’s giving you the ‘i wanna fuck you eyes’ every two seconds, and you’re holding her hand while you’re on stage, and then you literally pulled her on?! what the fuck am i supposed to think with that?!”

“i didn’t pull her on she jumped on!” satoru exclaimed, his arms out. “i’m sorry sweets that i didn’t notice okay i really am, but have you stopped to think that maybe i didn’t notice because i don’t care about her? i—”

“satoru you’ve been completely ignoring me the minute she got here—”

“toru.” he cut you off, voice firm. “it’s toru not satoru.”

you stopped, frustrated and hurt tears slowing brimming your eyes as you looked at him. “maybe you being a little flirt for everyone was okay before, but the minute you decided to butter me up and kiss my cheeks and call me sweets, that should’ve been over.”

“it is!” he exclaimed. “it’s been over! it never even started in the first place!”

“yes it did! you think i haven’t been watching how you are with people since high school?— you know what i’m done. i’m leaving.”

you sniffled and spun around again, but satoru only grabbed your wrist tightly and wrung you back.

“you think i haven’t been watching you?! i’ve loved you since fucking high school god dammit! i’m obsessed with you! when we officially met at the alley and i introduced myself i already knew your name and you know that! i don’t give a single living fuck about lina or anyone else but you! it’s always been you!”

you wiped your tears roughly with your sleeve.

gojo satoru loved you.

“so no. you’re not done. please don’t cry. all i’ve ever wanted was you and i let you slip through my hands in high school because i was a coward, and id rather die than let you slip through my fucking hands again and lose you over a stupid fight when i just got you!—”

“you’re not losing me i’m not going anywhere toru where the hell are you getting that from?!” you exclaimed.

“thank fuck then, so what are we still doing?! i’d cut everyone in my life off if you asked me to!—”

“no don’t do that! i was just jealous okay and i’m— and i’m angry—”

“okay but do you love me?!” he pushed angrily.

“yes! of course i do you know that!”

“okay so do i baby so what the fuck are we still fighting for?!”

“i don’t know!”

“stop giving me your little attitude then and come kiss me!”

your lips instantly collided with his as you threw your arms around his neck, fast hurried kisses that knocked the wind out of you as you both hungrily and fiercely tried to swallow each other’s lips, satoru tapping the back of your thighs and signaling you to jump on him.

you immediately sprung up and wrapped your legs around his waist, him holding you tight as he carried you over to his car and leaned you against the backseat door, his lips messily licking and swiping over yours as he seemed drunk on the taste of your sweet spit alone.

satoru dug through his pockets without breaking from your lips and found his keys, unlocking his car with a tap of a button and gently lowering you inside, him scrambling in after you and slamming the door shut, locking it.

he towered over you as he latched his lips back on yours, you laying flat on your back with your legs spread, satoru’s big cold hands on the sides of your thighs as he slowly slid your tiny little denim skirt further up— right up until he felt your silky panties under his fingertips.

“i gotta—” he said in between kisses. “take them off—”

you nodded quickly. “please take them off—”

satoru didn’t even let you finish before he practically tore your panties down your legs and stuffed them in his back pocket, his breathing erratic.

“oh my goodness,” he spread your legs gently, eyes completely wide and glazed over as he looked at your slick and shiny pussy. “you’re so pretty baby, just like how i pictured you.”

he ran a finger down your slit and your hips jumped, your teeth biting down on your lower lip as you let out a symphony of whines that satoru wanted to record on his phone and play morning, noon, and night for himself and his dick.

he stared mesmerized at your fuzzy pink cheeks and swollen wet lips as he slowly rubbed over your clit, you immediately grabbing his unoccupied hand and sticking his middle finger in your mouth to suck in response.

“oh my god—” he threw his head back, his delicious adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. “you’re gonna make me cum in my fucking pants.”

he felt you bob your head up and down slowly on his finger and his head snapped down, eyes widening as he watched you act like a little slut for him, his hands with a mind of their own as he inserted his unoccupied middle finger in your slurping hole.

you let out a muffled gasp through the digit in your mouth and you spread your legs wider, his long and mouthwatering finger pumping in and out of you slowly, satoru’s body literally shivering at the sounds of your warm squelching pussy.

“listen to her baby…” he hummed. “she’s so fucking loud for me… how embarrassing.”

“toruuu,” you whined at his teasing, clamping your legs shut as you felt the tip of his finger hit that sweet spot in your walls that made your toes curl.

“open your legs.” he demanded. “who said you could close them, hm? i sure fucking didn’t.”

satoru picked up the pace and slipped in his ring finger without warning, your walls stretching and filling up as he abused your little cunt rapidly.

“you ever squirted before baby?” he huffed out, lips eating up your neck as you shuddered, your body jolting up and down at how fast he was fingering you.

you shook your head dumbly. “n—no, i don’t think i can—”

satoru laughed and bit your neck meanly. “yes you can sweets, your little pussy was just waiting for me to do it.”

he went even faster, a series of slap slap slap’s filling the car as his palm and digits hit your cunt repeatedly, sticky and soppy as he moaned over and over in your ear, absolutely intoxicated with the sloshing noises of your pussy and the way it was speaking to him, satoru utterly and incandescently obsessed with everything that was you.

“m—my god—” he panted, his pace brutal and animalistic as his long fingers rapidly plunged into your gummy hot hole, his tongue licking and slopping all over the side of your neck, your moans straight up filthy as the windows of his car fogged up.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck—” he dragged his mushy kisses from your neck up to your chin and back to your lips. “be my girlfriend—” slap slap slap— “p-please be my girlfriend be my girlfriend i need you so bad i c-can’t live without you anymore—”

you eagerly nodded, your thighs shaking as you gripped his shoulders and tried to keep up with his kisses that swallowed your lips up hole. “y-yes— mph! i will toru i will—”

his car shook violently as he fucked your cunt with his fingers without mercy, an unfamiliar intense feeling bubbling up at the pit of your stomach as he did so, your entire pussy pulsing and swollen as you squealed, massive droplets of liquid spraying all over satoru and the leather seats of his car.

“fuck yes baby, give me what i want that’s it—”

satoru groaned so loudly as you squirted, him jerking his nasty fingers to selfishly get more out of you.

“thaaaats it sweets—” he panted, slowing down. “that’s it.”

you evidently blacked out at this point, your brain misty and distorted as you tried to come down from your delirious high, a high you’ve never ever felt before with your own digits.

satoru licked his fingers raunchily and lowered his face to your pussy, cleaning up any remnants and left over drops on your thighs and pussy with his perverted tongue, your body jerking and you whining again as you shut your thighs closed in overstimulation.

he came back up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before flashing you the biggest most innocent smile, as if he didn’t just absolutely destroy your cunt minutes ago without grace.

slowly, you regained a sense of direction and finally looked at him properly as he sat down and pulled you gently up by his arms, your body practically limp as he settled you on his lap and hugged you affectionately, his cheek squished up against your forehead.

“so can you squirt or what.” he teased softly, a smile still on his face.

you giggled shyly and buried your face in his neck. “i made a mess.”

“that’s literally what i wanted don’t even start.” he mumbled, and you laughed again, louder this time.

“were you serious about me being your girlfriend?” you asked suddenly, your voice smaller and timid. satoru pulled back and tilted his head, catching your eyes with his.

“of course i was,” he said quietly. “i literally begged you while my fingers were knuckle deep in—”

you covered your face with your hands and laughed with a whine. “stop! okay okay! i get it.”

you took your face away from his neck and looked at him properly, tilting your head cutely as your eyes shined and sparkled with affection, him giving you the same look back as you leaned up and pecked his lips lovingly.

“you know…” you began. “when we first properly met and you asked me out that night, shoko told me there was a line i had to stand in if i was interested in you.”

satoru snorted, his eyebrows raised. “a line?”

you nodded. “mhm. you literally can’t pretend there isn’t one toru… and lina is in it too,” you finished off, snickering.

he rolled his eyes and huffed, feigning annoyance, but when he looked at you again, he only smiled and stared at you like you hung the moon and stars yourself, a blush to his pale cheeks that never seemed to go away as long as you were around.

“line or not—” he sincerely spoke.

“you’ve always been the first one.”

[ellana-ravenwood]

“Batman, you need to-IS THAT A BABY ?!” - Batfam x Fem!reader

Synopsis : Bruce and Batmom bring their newborn daughter to the Watchtower, so she can meet their friends (or vice versa). Includes an overprotective Damian, League members who cannot believe the Batman is smiling, and other shenanigans.  

Oop, I’m back (?). My dudes. It’s been TWO YEARS since I last posted here. Two. Years. I posted like, two life update...don’t know if some of y’all saw it, but long story short : I got married, I have a son now, and everything is going so well in my life that I didn’t really need the validation I got from writing online...Buuuuuuuuuuuuut, I still love writing. And so, after quite a long break, here I am :). Hope you will enjoy this, don’t hesitate to let me know if you do : 

Please, do not repost my stories anywhere else, under any other form. Do not translate and then repost them either. Thank you.

My masterlist : @ella-ravenwood-archives

________________________________________________

“You’re evil, you know that right ?” You say, raising an eyebrow.  

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my love.” He answers, a small smile on his lips. You turn to him and...Oh that smug look, that smug look you loved so much. He definitely DEFINITELY knew what he was doing. 

And that it was utterly...evil. 

“It’s going to be FUN !” 

Ah, and here’s his little devil. Damian himself. He loved this. Partly because he thought it was funny to mess with everyone, partly because he liked showing that you guys were a family. 

“They won’t believe their eyes !” His little voice kept going, followed by a big roar of laughter that sounded, by all means, more childlike than devilish. 

“That they won’t, they always seem so surprised when Bruce acts like a human.” 

Jason. Still not calling Bruce “dad” (except sometimes, by “accident”, and even him don’t realize he did), he’d only slowly been back at the manor, with all of you. And, for sure, a certain important event which happened about four months ago made it so he came back to live at home.

Dick chuckled and added : “Who would blame them ? We’re talking about a man who eats his burgers with a knife and fork !” He gestured to his father with his left thumb, his other hand shielding part of his mouth as if he was telling them all a secret, as if he was trying to be discreet, so his dad wouldn’t hear...Always quite the little clown, that eldest son of yours. With his exaggerated mannerism, and that sparkle in his eyes, in his smile. 

“I’m certain some of them thought he was genuinely a cyborg for YEARS” Tim added, quite seriously, his tone the opposite of his older brother (and that was just his way of joking...you think). And honestly ? Yeah, you were pretty sure some of your friends at the JLA thought your husband was a robot, at one point. 

Oh yes. That’s where you were going, to the JLA’s headquarters. To execute Bruce’s plan. Quite the evil plan indeed. 

“Hell, even I thought he was one before I met you guys !” Duke chimed in, and that made Cassandra smile widely, as she shook her head up and down pointing at Duke as if to say : “what he just said”. 

And in a very Bruce manner, your husband kept a straight face, ignoring his children’s teasing. Only you, saw that twinkle in his eyes, that smile that might not reach his mouth, but was definitely dancing in those bright blue eyes. 

Oh yes. Yes, your friends were in for quite the surprise. 

************

Meanwhile, in the Justice League headquarters : 

“Oh, hey ! Look, Batman’s zeta tube is turning on ! We haven’t seen him in a while right ?”  

Indeed they haven’t. Because, well, let’s put it this way : Batman’s wife just had a baby. 

A baby girl (finally, right ? You and Cass weren’t TOO outnumbered anymore). 

And Batman had been VERY busy doting over his baby girl. 

Batman had been busy being Bruce Wayne. 

Just a man, who thought he’d never be happy again, not knowing how to handle all those feelings he had for his wife (for you), for his children. 

That was happiness then, right ? 

So, yes. Batman hasn’t been much at the JLA’s headquarters lately. But your husband thought, it was finally time to go see his friends a little bit. He knew they were all up there, because it was their monthly reunion (once each month, they gathered to talk about the state of the world, the universe, what threat lingered, what lurked beyond...and to get very drunk, and see their friends, the only ones who knew what it meant to be a “hero”). 

And that what’s made him particularly evil. 

He knew, they would all be there. He knew what their reaction was going to be. After all, his memory was amazing, he definitely hadn’t forgot the way they reacted the first time they saw you, the first time they learned he had children (childrEN, plural !). 

And he knew they were a little worried about him. 

He had missed their last three reunions, and only answered : “Everything is ok” to their messages asking if he was alright (they hadn’t dared to go see if he was indeed ok, because last time they did that, they found him bed ridden with all the bones in his body broken, and he got so mad at them for butting in his business he worked twice as hard when he was fine again, and didn’t talk a WORD for months...that was, of course, years ago, before you were in his life, but the experience was still in their minds and so, they decided to respect his privacy, he would come to them when ready). And he never pushed his “red button”, him, or anyone in the family. 

They just assumed he was busy, they hoped it wasn’t anything bad. 

Yes. They were worried. For him. For you. For your kids. For Alfred. For your dogs, your cats, your cow...They. Were. Worried. 

And Bruce knew. 

You told him, when your pregnancy was confirmed, to tell his friends. That they would be happy. But after his own initial happy thought, his surge of hope and love at knowing he was going to be a dad again, he started to make his plan. 

Why tell them, when you could toy with them ? 

“They deserve it.” He told you, and you weren’t sure if they did, but you weren’t about to fight him on that. After all, you too, thought it could be amusing. Amusing to hide your pregnancy, making up excuses as to why they couldn't come see you, and you didn’t come up the headquarter. Amusing, to even hide it quite expertly from any form of news (Bruce was a MASTER of disguise, not only for himself), so it would be a real surprise. 

Amusing, to have your little girl in secret, with only your family. Amusing, but also what you wanted. For this good news to be just between you, your children, and Alfred. Your close family. Because you had too few things that just were yours. 

This had to be yours. Your thing, your secret, your own happiness. Yours, and only yours. And you found it was good, that you guys spend the first few months of your daughter’s life only between yourselves. 

It was nice, to go out “disguised” as a normal couple, and show your daughter Gotham (and how her little eyes already tried to take the entire world within them). 

It was nice, to live in total privacy for a little bit. 

So, yes, you had been a little selfish. And he had, too. You knew it wasn’t just to prank his friends, he kept it all a secret. That it was also to have some quality time with his family. To spend the first few months of his daughter’s life being the only one being utterly smitten with her. 

Though, this last thing wasn't true...You were, too. And your children ? Let’s just say your daughter had not been alone ONCE since she was born. And she seemed to love it. 

Whenever she made the slightest sound, smiled, laughed (or cried), they were there, Bruce was there, absolutely loving that little baby. 

She was almost 4 months old now, and Bruce thought that the gist had to be up. What scale did he use to measure this amount of “readiness” ? You had no idea. You thought he was just now ready to share his happiness with his friends, and not just his close family. 

And so here you were, after months of secrecy carefully crafted and orchestrated by your husband, in the JLA’s headquarters, along with your family, the little new addition to said family in your husband’s arms. 

Evil. Your husband was downright evil. 

He knew that what was about to happen would have a massive impact on his friends. He. KNEW. 

And as the zeta tube brought all your family up there, you knew that as he saw their faces, your husband was a little TOO happy with himself for his little “prank”. 

************

“Batman, are you al- IS THAT A BABY ?” Very typical, very in character : the first to react was Flash himself. 

None of the other noticed, and they seemed inclined to think Barry had lost his mind but then...

Bruce’s face didn’t move an inch, he just held that little “package”, and had his same stoic expression except...Except there was a little hand grabbing at his chin. 

Then another hand appeared out of that bundle Batman carried, with a bat plushie bunched in a tight fist, shaking it and...Cooing. 

Cute little sounds, and the way- EXCUUUuuUuuuUSE ME ?

The way Batman just softly looked at her, the way his cold expression was replaced by a tender one as he lowered his eyes to her ??

WHAT ?! 

They knew. They knew he had THE softest spot for his family. They knew his scary aura greatly dimmed when he was around his wife and children. They knew that when they weren’t there, he was only made of shadows. They were his light, his salvation. 

They knew he didn’t have the same face expression, when they were around.

Well, when they were looking at him...Barry swore that Batman loomed around his family, standing menacingly behind them, his eyes cold and calculating as if he was ready to fight any seconds to save his loved ones, and then whenever they turned to him his feature would instantly soften. He will ALWAYS remember the first time he met little Dickie, 9 years old and so full of joy and life, and how whenever he would look at Batman and talk to him, said Batman got a softer expression somewhat, but then when Dick turned around, Batman looked about to murder them whenever they came too close from him. 

Once, Tim, also 9 at the time, years after the JLA met Dick, told Barry matter of factly : “He doesn’t kill people. He could break your knee caps though” in a very Tim fashion. The kid was serious. And had noticed the aura surrounding his dad, how it changed when he was around (he noticed more than his siblings, because for a while, Bruce had been really cold and distant with him, since he met him not long after Jason’s death..understandable. So he was the only one who had this sort of behavior aimed at him, the shield Bruce put in front of him to keep everyone away so he wouldn’t be hurt, the shield that now was lowered for them and only them). 

It was his eyes. His eyes that were always hard and cold, became different when looking at you or his children. 

Not to say that his family never exasperated him, or that he never had his “mask” around them. After all, Bruce’s stoic expression was his face by default. It’s just that he was often too focused. And that he spend years practicing hiding his emotions, practicing keeping a blank face. Because Barry also remembered seeing Dick perched on his father’s shoulders, letting himself dangle in his back, his head upside down, whistling and kicking his feet, and Bruce having this stoic mask on, concentrated. 

Anyway, they knew all that. It had been years, since Bruce finally trusted them enough to bring his wife here, and his kids. But yet, yet they were still surprised sometimes.

Like today. 

The picture of Batman holding a baby was...a little weird. 

Even if he opened up to them over the years, he was still mostly very cold, distant and aloof. You know, Batman. That’s just who he was. So sometimes, to see him so devoted to his wife or kids, it was odd to say the least. 

And right now, as he walked towards them with a baby in his arms, the shock was real. Damn it, will there be a day when the Bat didn’t surprise them with something ? 

How did none of them notice you were pregnant ? Proof again Batman was a master of his craft. And that little girl...

Oh your daughter was such a beaming ray of sunshine, that in his arms it was particularly a jarring image. 

The big scary bat, tall, broad shouldered, muscular in every way, his face void of expressions, holding a tiny baby who kept smiling at everyone around, and playing with her plushy. 

Odd. 

Yet, sweet. 

Were they surprised ? Yes. 

Were they a little mad he hid something (AGAIN) this important from them ? Definitely. 

Were they shocked that his daughter was so darn cute and smiling and laughing that much ? Not really, because you were his mom too. 

Were they happy for him ? For sure. 

Were they going to adore that little girl ? Probably as much as they adored his other kids already, which meant...yes. Yes they were going to. 

Damn that bastard Bruce. Always so sneaky. 

Hal, couldn’t help but think : “First, he’s not a vampire, then, he’s married with children, and now, he has that cute baby. This guy ??!!” 

***********

The initial shocked passed, and only after your children MOCKED all of your friends (you had to give it to Dick, he knew how to imitate them so well..and when Damian joined in ? Oh, oh it was a fit of laughter impossible to fight that attacked them), did they approach your daughter. 

“Her name is Martha.” Bruce said “We named her after my mother.” and it wasn’t his usual flat tone he used as Batman. No, it was a soft voice he usually only reserved for his kids. And the reason he was using it now ? Well. He didn’t want to scare his daughter, as he still held her. 

She beamed at him when she heard her name, and babbled some baby nonsense. She then turned towards all those new faces, and you saw Bruce’s hand hold her a little tighter. 

Your beautiful, sweet soul husband. He clearly was worried she’d be scared, meeting all those new people. Especially since they all wore mask. But Martha-

Martha let go of her bat plushy (which Damian caught before it touched the floor, rolling on the ground in a way you thought was quite comedic. Oh, that boy), and lifted her arms up towards- 

“What a sweet little girl !” Diana said with a voice you NEVER heard her use. You realized it was her “voice reserved for babies and domestic animals”, and it made you smile. It was higher than her usual voice, and full of softness. 

You thought your daughter reached for her because she could feel the warmness in your friend. And after all, amongst all of those gathered here today, she was probably the one that adored babies the most. 

Diana looked at Bruce, who only inclined his head a little to give her the ok to lift her from his arms but-

Another arm stopped her, and took the baby away. 

Damian. 

Damian, the one who took his role as a big brother a little too seriously. 

He held Martha protectively against him, and literally sneered at all your friends. 

************

Damian deemed most of them unworthy to hold his baby sister, and only Clark ended up being allowed to carry her. And that was partly because Clark was the only one who knew about Martha, the only one who saw her already, and he had months to convince your son to trust him with her. 

Being an extremely close friend and all, you just couldn’t hide this from him and... no, really, you literally couldn’t hide this from him as he was the immediately noticed that second heartbeat when he listened in to make sure you and your family were safe. Bruce hated when he did that, but Clark wasn’t about to let them be in danger without moving an inch.

Anyway, Clark was allowed to hold her, but he gave her back to you rather quickly because your son’s stare made him uncomfortable. If eyes could kill, right ? 

Damian took his job as an older brother very seriously. He would protect her at all cost. And you had no doubt that he would be the kind of person to burn the entire world down if it meant saving his family. 

Damian only glared at everyone, letting them approach ONLY after they put on a surgical mask so they wouldn’t give her their “viruses or whatever”. 

You had to admit he was a bit much, and you asked him nicely to calm down a little. He relented on the face masks, but made them all wash their hands (twice). 

You ruffled his hair affectionately, what a sweet little boy. It broke your heart, how so many people judged him too fast. He really was, a nice kid. With a heart of gold. He just didn’t have much luck for the first few years of his life. 

But he chose to be like this. Chose to love, instead of hate. Chose to protect, instead of attacking. 

Although, right now, as Diana came back towards his sister, he definitely seems ready to high kick her (which definitely wouldn’t have hurt the amazon). 

************

It was a hassle, to convince Damian to let go of his sister so they could hold her. As per usual, it’s Dick who managed to convince him, saying Martha was all soft and cute, and everyone deserved to hold her at least once. Adding that if one of them dropped her, he would be allowed to do whatever he wanted to them. 

Some of the mightiest heroes of the planet were gathered hear, but the threat didn’t fall on deaf ears. Damian could be a little intense, and scary sometimes. 

They weren’t fooled by Dick’s agreeable smile either. A smile that didn’t always reach his eyes. They knew if they messed up, he would find every way to rip them to shreds. Dick was often seen as the calmest of your children, but his anger issues from when he was a child were never far. And he could be ruthless.  

Diana held her first, and your daughter babbled to her excitedly. 

Of course, being only 4 months old, she just talked gibberish. And it was so sweet, how Diana answered her : “What ? *babbles from your daughter* Noooooo. *more babbles from your daughter* I can’t believe he said that. And then what ? *babbles babbles babbles*”. 

After that, Dick took her back, and asked if someone else wanted to hold her, under yours and Bruce’s watchful eyes. 

Then again, in the room, many were also already parents and knew how to hold a baby. They weren’t too worried, except-

Except Dick, that little sh-, had found a new game in recent weeks. Whenever he gave his little sister to someone else...he pretended to drop her. 

And it made him laugh and laugh and laugh, to give mini-heart attacks to EVERYONE whenever he gave them his baby sister to them, as they always all panicked and screamed seeing her dropped (Dick always had her secure, he only pretended to drop her of course). 

“Oh no careful !” He’d scream, dropping his arms suddenly (she looooved it) while still gripping her, and they’d scramble to catch her, and he would just laugh. 

“You little-” Hal’s colorful words were...imaginative. And Damian was inclined to agree, since his brother pranked him oh, I don’t know, only about A HUNDRED TIMES since their little sister was born. 

You wouldn’t admit it, but it made you laugh a little too. Even if he got you a few times as well, pretending he was going to drop her. Then again, you trusted your eldest son. Once you and Bruce wouldn’t be around anymore, you knew he would hold this family together. 

************

Martha was a calm baby. She let people hold her, curious enough to not fuss and watch them all intently. It made Barry uncomfortable, how she held his gaze and would just stare at him. 

She would stare, and stare, and stare, and her bright blue eyes were EXACTLY like Bruce’s, it felt like being stared down by a miniature version of Batman. 

He didn’t like it. So he gave her back to whomever was closest, which happened to be Jason

Jason, who was always very delicate with his little sister. He handled her as if he’d break her. It broke your heart, to know he probably literally thought that. 

He refused to hold her at first, sure he would hurt her. But she kept reaching for him, crying when he wouldn’t take her, and she was so adorable and-

He caved, of course. After a little while. And he was oh, the fixture of a patient older brother. You knew he would ALWAYS be part of her life, and step in whenever she needed to. 

Right now, she was grabbing his hair, which were getting quite long, and pulling hard on them as babies do and- He didn’t say anything. He just let her do it. 

You really hoped she wasn’t going to take advantage of this when she’d get older, even if you already had visions of her having her brothers and father wrapped around her little finger, having her sister too, and...apparently, the entirety of the JLA. 

************

“How can such an a-hole make such a cute baby ?” Hal said, looking at the little girl he held. She was sort of dozing off, which for sure was adorable. 

Bruce only glared at him, which amused Hal greatly. He just gave him the shock of his life, he could laugh at his expense a little, right ? 

“I believe, to make a baby, you need to-”

“Um, no, Jon, please, I know how to ! It’s just-Oh, forget it.” 

Flustered, Hal Jordan was flustered. Jon J’onzz didn’t seem to get why, but then again, human sarcasms and irony were still very foreign to him. He always answered pragmatically to people. 

Talking about pragmatism. Hal handed back your daughter to Tim, who slipped her in his favorite new contraption : the baby carrier 3.0 (of his own design). Made so he could do all sort of work while having her strapped to him. Keeping an eye on her at all time. 

Tim adopted the use of a baby carrier, so he could still work while taking care of her (he stole the idea from his dad, who definitely hung around with his daughter EVERYWHERE with that thing...which was the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen, this tall broad man and this tiny baby attached to his chest). 

It was so cute to see her little feet dangling while he was working. Damian nearly lost it when he found Tim WELDING two pieces of metal together with the baby carrier on his front. Tim merely said : “I made her baby sized goggles and a fireproof pyjama, she’s fine, and she likes it” and indeed, your daughter didn’t have a scratch, and cried when Damian hauled her away from the sparks. Ooooh the smug look on Tim’s face as his brother gave her back reluctantly. Damian’s was utterly vexed. 

Vexation he forgot just a few minutes later, when Martha decided she had enough of sparkles and made little sounds of protest (not quite cries), and reached her little arms to him. 

As of now, Tim had her in this baby carrier again, and was strolling around the JLA headquarters, showing his new little sister to everyone. 

************

Cassandra didn’t say a word, as per usual. She never liked big crowds, only spoke to those she trusted the most. Her brothers, her parents. 

She only gestured to others. Remained quiet. But she monitored every little movements. 

Hawkgirl approached her sister ? Noted. Carefully studying every move. Martian Manhunter asked if he could hold her ? Noted. 

Superman made little babbling sound at her, while her dad held her ? Noted, with amusement. It was funny, to see one of Earth’s mightiest hero grimacing to a baby to make it laugh, while said baby was held by another mighty hero who was utterly stoned face. Cass’ smiled at her dad, who smiled back for a fraction of seconds before Clark shifted his head up to look at him too, and Bruce went back to his : “ -_-” face, by reflex really. 

Cassandra never spoke much, but she loved a lot. And her way of loving her little sister ? It was to always keep a watchful eye on her, so she could react to whatever she needed. And give her space when she needed to. 

She had many brothers, she often joked that if she lost one, she could just replace him (a joke you didn’t like much, because you knew it was just a self-defense from her, to shield her heartbreak at the mere idea of loosing a sibling), but only had one sister...

Yes. Your youngest child definitely held a special place in everyone’s heart. 

And you could see her slowly creep in every members’ of the Justice League’s heart too. 

Gods, you couldn’t even imagine what would happen to the person who would one day try to hurt her. You could bet, though, he wouldn’t get out of it unscathed (to say the least). 

************

Martha was particularly fond of Duke’s inuit kiss. He had the capacity to instantly calm her, and he could easily feel her inner emotions. 

As she was passed around everyone, and she started to be tired and cranky, he simply retrieved her and brought her to Bruce, because he knew that was her preferred spot to fall asleep. 

He kissed her on the forehead, and sure enough, she was asleep before he could pull away. Your husband put a warm hand on Duke’s head, a warm smile on his face. That boy could always tell what others felt. It was a gift, really, and sometimes a curse as others’ feelings could leak into him. Which is to say that sometimes, when others were sad, he would be too...

But for now, he felt content. At peace. Because his dad was, too. 

And indeed, Bruce, holding his sleeping daughter against his heart, his hand supporting her head gently, was utterly at peace. 

He loved the idea that his arms were his daughter’s favorite place to sleep, and never refused to hold her to help her sleep. You sure were a little jealous, but he told you : “They all always come to you when they need comfort, one kid out of six, you surely can give me, right ?” and though you knew he was joking, it broke your heart a little. 

So, you let go of your jealousy, and let him have this indeed. Martha was definitely a daddy’s girl. And that was good. You could see the impact on your husband, how having a baby in the house soothed him. 

He loved his kids so damn much. He often said they were his lights. And the fact Martha found comfort with him ? 

It reminded him of his own parents. How he would go to his mom, a Martha too, to find the same comfort. To fall asleep in the same way. 

You let go of that small jealousy, as you saw her falling soundly asleep, cuddled up against her dad. And it was funny, how Bruce would take his usual Batman persona, stone faced, standing straight and- 

Having one of two fingers held tightly by both of his daughter’s little hands. She grabbed them as he took her, one hand holding her (she was so tiny...and he was a big dude), the other, she used as a sort of comfort plushy. She held them with all her might, as she slept. 

And Bruce was speaking battle plans, and you had to fight the laughter in you as all your friends couldn’t help but stare at the scene, not knowing how to feel. 

Hal snickered at one point, and he made a gesture for him to zip it, and it was quite an odd scene, as he held his daughter and did that childish gesture. 

Seriously. That guy !! 

************

Batman smiling was...different. 

They all got caught staring at him, when he had his daughter in his arms. Staring because his broad smile was-

Well. Broad. 

It wasn’t his signature smirk. It wasn’t a soft smile. It wasn’t a half-smile. It wasn’t a smile that you could only see in his eyes. 

It was a full on big ass smile (as Barry would say). 

And sure, they already saw him smile like that (although he schooled his face back to “stone mode” when he noticed them looking), never that much. 

As if the birth of his daughter gave Batman another new light, and it was just impossible to yield to his old demon, to brood, when holding that ray of sunshine. 

It made them all feel...soft. And warm. 

It was nice, to know the bat wasn’t just a machine. They forgot it sometimes, that he was, in the end, “just” a man. They forgot why he became Batman. The pain and guilt he held inside. But moments like this, they were reminded of it. 

That the Batman didn’t exist because of hatred, but because of love. 

Because he loved his parents, his city, and now- 

His family. 

It was nice, to get reminded that there was a man below the mask. And though he could be an “a-hole” sometimes, there, holding his baby, he was just that. 

A loving man, who wanted to protect others. 

************

You made a note of every moments you would cherish forever of you introducing your daughters to them all : 

1. The shock on their faces as they beheld the sight of THE BATMAN holding a baby against him, and being so delicate. 

2. Your daughter being the star of the show, all of them smitten with her !

3. Your friends wanting to hold her, and how they beamed at her (and she beamed back, except with Barry, whom she only stared at for some reasons). 

4. Dick’s “game” of pretending he dropped her, and their panicked reaction. 

5. The success of Tim’s baby carrier, and how now, there was always one up in the tower. 

6. Diana and how it definitely seemed like she would move mountain for that child. 

7. How Clark’s eyes filled with tears again, as he looked at Martha. Because it made his friends so happy. You and Bruce. And especially Bruce. And Clark was an emotional man, who suffered too, and was just so happy “The Batman” was happy. 

8. How Jason seemed at peace with his little sister, and how whenever he held her, he seemed less weary than usual around everyone. Like Cass, he didn’t like much being amongst too many people. But now, it felt like he had an “emotional support baby”. Ah. 

9. Their reactions, past the shock, welcoming that new life in the world. 

10. How Bruce monitored his daughter being held by his friends, holding your hand. Even after all those years, when he acted close to you in his Batman costume, it made you...feel things. He always kept a facade as Batman. A facade that would crumble with his kids, and especially with you. PDA weren’t rare. And even after years at his side, it always made your heart beat wildly when he showed affection towards you in public, because it meant- 

Oh it meant so much. 

And you had so many more moments forever ingrained in your heart from that day spend up at the JLA’s headquarters. 

Too many to count. Some sweet, some hilarious- 

All positive feelings. 

And as you and your family stepped back in the zeta tubes, your friends saying “byyyyye” to Martha especially, with their baby voice (making Bruce roll his eyes), and as she waved at them- 

Waved for the FIRST TIME ever oh. 

Oh it felt like you would die of happiness. 

And still, Bruce’s hands held yours tightly. 

He knew. 

He knew, you were the source of this happiness he thought he could never find again. 

He knew. 

He never loved like that before. 

Yes. It felt like you could just die of happiness.

__________________________________________________

And here we are. I hope you enjoyed this. Don’t hesitate to comment and/or reblog, it’s always greatly appreciated :). 

Also, initially, the child was going to be Thomas (their son in my “main” storyline, if you already read a few works from me), but last minute, I was like : “wait no, I want to give Bruce a daughter, and the boys a sister. Also, poor Cass eh ?” and here we are. I really hope you liked this; I’m nervous for some reasons. Anyway. See you soon with another one ? 

[anxiouscherubs]

find you in my heart

✦ summary: the one where you get dumped and your best friend is there to help you realize what you truly deserve… what’s been in front of you all along.

✦ warnings/tags: MDNI! 18+, explicit, smut, slight angst, some fluff, oral sex (f receiving), oral sex (m receiving), fingering, throat fucking, big dick yh, unprotected sex (be safe!), yh is desperately in love, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, mentions of cheating (past relationships), yh and reader met as baristas, pet names, au where jeong yunho can actually cook, yunho is a lil possessive

✦ pairing: nonidol!yunho x reader

✦ author’s note: as a yunho ult, a yh best friends to lovers has been at the top of my list of things to write. i started this fic after yun posted these photos because i just could not get the vision of late night walks with him out of my head! i am new to writing so any feedback is appreciated. i hope you enjoy ♡ as always, thank you to my lovely best friends for enabling me and proofreading my depravity. love you guys forever. ♡

✦ word count: 12.9k

✦ read it on ao3: here

Two years. Two years down the drain because your ex decided he “wasn’t feeling it anymore.” You had a sneaking suspicion his change of heart had to do with his hot new coworker, but you couldn’t think too far into it or it would rip you apart more than he already had. 

He had grown distant, and you chalked it up to the stress of his new job. But when he started staying late every other day and missing your sacred Thursday date nights, you knew it was the beginning of the end. You were happy together (most of the time), but you were never certain you could see yourself spending the rest of your life with him. There were certain things about him that you tolerated, but you wanted your forever to be spent with someone who felt perfect for you. And he… didn’t.

Even though you knew he wasn’t who you’d spend your life with, it stung just the same to receive his messages. 

loser: hey y/n… i’ve been thinking about this for a while now but i think it’s time for us to part ways. 

loser: we’ve had a good run, but i’m just not really feeling it anymore. i hope you understand. 

loser: wish you the best. xx 

You’d changed his contact and blocked his number immediately, saving yourself from the hurtful words he’d throw your way if you tried to ask for any reasoning or clarification. He always turned into a different person the moment you tried to express your emotions. 

“She’s just a coworker, y/n, stop being crazy. You don’t have to worry about her.” 

You push his words out of your brain again before they take over. So what if he left you for her? They probably deserve each other. You knew you were better off, that wasn’t the issue. It was that you settled for two years, letting this man who clearly didn’t respect you treat you like an afterthought the entire time. The more you think about it, the more you blame yourself for placing such little value on your own time and energy. 

You sit on your couch, your coffee table littered with tear-soaked tissues and instant ramen cups. You haven’t  left the house since you got The Texts last night, and you've watched a season of your favorite crime show and eaten your body weight in Buldak since then. You know you can’t sit here and wallow anymore or you’ll start to lose your mind, so you drag yourself to the bathroom to assess the damage. Eyes red and puffy from crying, hair tangled and tied loosely in a scrunchie, tear drops lingering on the same sweatshirt you’d been wearing for the last 24 hours. You look like hell. 

“I need to get out of this apartment,” you say to yourself. You pull out your phone and send a quick text to your best friend before hopping in the shower. After washing your hair 3 times, shaving your legs, and exfoliating the sadness away, you’re finally starting to feel human again. You wrap yourself in your favorite towel before checking your phone again. 

y/n: yunnie… are you free tonight? 

yunho: for you? absolutely. you ok? haven’t heard from you all day.

Of course he’d notice you going MIA for a day. You and your best friend texted every single day, sending quick little updates or funny videos. He’d probably been worried sick, but he never wants to pry. He’s always respected your space like that. 

y/n: long story. i’ll explain later. 

y/n: meet me in front of blossom in 30? 

Blossom was the cafe you and Yunho met working at. You were both burning the candle at both ends working nearly full time as baristas during your senior year of college. Your closing shifts together kept you sane during finals, blasting music and sharing your life stories while you cleaned up the shop. He’d even walk you home, after every closing shift, never wanting to let you walk alone so late. You both gave your two weeks notice right after graduation, but promised each other you’d make up for all the time you wouldn’t spend working together anymore. 

That was four years ago, and he’d been such a stable presence in your life since then. You’d grown closer over the years, spending countless movie nights and BBQ dates together. He knew everything about you (after a movie night with too much wine and lots of oversharing) and hadn’t gone running for the hills, so you knew he really cared. You didn’t really have time to make friends in college because you were either working, in class, or studying, so he was really all you had. He was your safe space. You both stayed close by after graduation, staying in your apartments in the city 2 blocks from the cafe on either side. It was nice having your best friend so close by, and the cafe remained a staple in your friendship as a middle point between your two homes. In your reminiscing, you realize you missed your Saturday morning coffee date with him. 

yunho: of course, bean. i missed you this morning. 

Your heart fluttered in your chest at the nickname. It always does. That, and when he calls you sweetheart. Your heart almost came up your throat the first time he pulled that one. Yunho started calling you bean after you spilled an entire bag of light roast on the cafe floor trying to refill the hopper for the openers. He’ll never let you live that one down. You remembered giggling and scooping coffee beans off the floor on your hands and knees together, his hand brushing over yours when you both reached for the dustpan, your eyes meeting, breath quickening… 

You shake the memory from your brain, coming back to reality just as you both had snapped out of it in the moment four years ago, scattering to finish cleaning up and avoiding eye contact the rest of the night. You always dismissed the electricity you felt when his skin touched yours, blaming the exhaustion from working a closing shift after being up all night studying. He had a girlfriend at the time, he wouldn’t have been interested in you that way anyway. He’s your friend, y/n, be realistic. You’re reaching. You send another quick text before getting dressed, and he of course responds right away. 

y/n: i missed you too, i’m sorry i should’ve texted. it’s been a shitty 24 hours. i’ll see you soon 

yunho: no need to apologize. i’ll be there, see you in a bit. 

25 minutes pass and you somehow manage to make yourself look somewhat presentable. You dried your hair and pulled half of it up in a claw clip, leaving some pieces out to frame your face. You threw on some concealer and a bit of blush, trying to hide how puffy your eyes still were. It was a chilly fall night, so you opted for your favorite pair of light wash jeans and an oversized black sweater, accompanied by your beat up black chelsea boots and your gray wool coat. 

After a quick 5 minute walk you round the corner to see Yunho standing in front of the cafe, his back facing you. Of course he’s right on time. His broad shoulders fill out the black jacket he’s wearing, his crossbody bag tucked under his arm. The neon sign in the cafe window leaves a purple hue reflecting off his freshly dyed dark gray hair. He turns his head at a car passing by, and you catch yourself smiling at the lost puppy look in his eyes. He must’ve seen you approaching in his peripheral, his head snapping in your direction. A subtle smile plays on his lips as he locks eyes with you. His warm brown eyes are full of an emotion you can’t quite name. 

Your chest aches at the realization that your ex, in the two years you were together, never looked at you like that. Why did you ever think you were important to him? Your throat suddenly tightens and your vision starts to blur, tears welling in your eyes for the millionth time today. Yunho’s smile drops, his brow furrowing as he takes two long strides to meet you. 

“Y/n, what is it, what happened?” He reaches for your shoulders to hold you steady, but you push forward to bury your face in his chest. He wraps his arms around you without hesitation, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other snakes around your shoulders. Your hands find his waist, gripping his shirt underneath his jacket. His familiar scent of jasmine envelops you, and you realize how badly you needed your best friend to help you through this.

”H-He dumped me,” you sniffle, letting out a shaky breath into Yunho’s chest, “he d-dumped me yesterday, through a fucking t-text message,”  another unsteady exhale as you try to level your breathing. 

“He did what?!” He pulls you in closer to him, the disbelief lacing his tone reassuring how rational your feelings are.

“It’s over,” you blink away your tears, tilting your head back to look up at your best friend. You’ve never seen the expression on his face before, like anger and worry are battling it out in his brain, and he can’t decide which one should take center stage first. “He texted me last night, saying he ‘wasn’t feeling it anymore’ and he ‘wished me the best,’” your mocking tone repeating his words reignited the angry flame in your chest. 

“Wished you the best,” he scoffs, “is he kidding?” He rolls his eyes.  “That’s how you end a two-year-long relationship?” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, taking a half step back to give you some more space to catch your breath.  

“I can’t believe I wasted two years of my life with someone who just kicked me to the curb without a second thought,” you pinch the fabric of his shirt between your fingers, your eyes lingering on his collarbone peeking out from his slightly unbuttoned shirt. “I’m convinced he left me for a coworker, the one he told me not to worry about.” A humorless laugh leaves your lips, the burning feeling behind your eyes returning as more tears come. “I’m more upset with myself for letting him treat me like this for so long,”

“Hey, look at me,” Yunho cautiously brings his hands to your face, cradling your head gently. You lean into his touch, dragging your gaze up to meet his.

“He doesn’t know what he just threw away, sweetheart,” Yunho holds your teary cheeks in his hands. “You are the most beautiful creature this world has ever seen, and if he doesn’t see that, he doesn’t deserve you.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” You choke out between sniffles. 

“Oh y/n… of course I do. I always have,” he wipes a tear from your cheek before it reaches your lips, “since the day I met you.” 

Your breath catches in your throat at his admission, your chin wobbling as you try to hold it together. 

His eyes search yours, that unspoken emotion taking over his features again. You almost catch the moment he shakes it away, reminding himself that he’s here to support you. His hands fall from your cheeks to grab your hands instead, that familiar electricity prickling your skin as he rubs his thumbs over your knuckles. 

“Do you wanna go inside? I called ahead and ordered you a maple latte and a raspberry scone as soon as I got your text.” He tilts his head in the direction of the cafe next to you. 

You look inside to see two to-go cups and a brown paper bag sitting on the counter. “And an iced caramel latte for you, I’m assuming,” you poke his stomach teasingly, “thank you, Yun, you didn’t have to do that.” 

“Of course I did,” he gently squeezes your hands, a warm smile taking over his features. “Come on, it seems like we have a lot to catch up on. I have a feeling you have a lot to get off your chest.” He lets go of one hand, keeping hold of the other to walk you to the door. You lace your fingers through his, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

You’d spent the last hour sitting in your favorite booth with Yunho, hashing through every single thing you hated about your ex. He was appalled by the things you’d told him, wishing he knew sooner so he could’ve tried to help you see you deserve someone better. Someone who valued your emotions, understood your needs, respected your boundaries… Someone like — 

“Yunho, are you with me?” Your voice shakes him out of his daze, bringing him back to the conversation.

“Sorry bean, I just can’t believe he was such an asshole behind closed doors,” he recovers, “I wish you told me sooner. I feel like I wasn’t there for you when I should’ve been.”

”It’s not your fault, I could’ve told you and I didn’t. I think I was in denial,” you scoff. ”I was settling and I knew it, I was just trying to pretend things were better, but I think I’d been checked out for a while.” You swirl your coffee around in your cup, avoiding the concerned look in his eye. If you looked at him too long, you’d risk reading something deeper in the way he cares about you, something that made your heart flutter and ache all at once.

”Y/n, do you remember the girl I was dating when we met?” His tone shifts, a slight vulnerability creeping in. You stop moving your cup, watching the drink settle. You nod hesitantly, still avoiding his eyes. 

Of course you remember her. You had developed a crush on Yunho in your first week working together, but you had to smother it at the first mention of her. Any hope you had left for a chance with him disintegrated the first time you saw her — she was the kind of beautiful you only saw on TV. Flawless skin, no split ends, a perfectly sculpted body. Even her voice was smooth. She seemed perfect for him. 

“She cheated on me.” 

Your head snaps up to him in disbelief. “Excuse me?” 

You remember him telling you they broke up in passing — it had been a month after you started a relationship of your own. Part of you always wondered if you had just missed your window to pursue something with Yunho, but you pushed that thought out of your head so you could be present for your best friend. He didn’t want to go into detail about the breakup at the time, and he never did in the two years that followed. 

“For the last six months of our relationship, she’d been sleeping with someone she reconnected with from high school. They realized they loved each other, and she ended things.” He offers a sad smile, but the bitterness lingers beneath the surface. You feel a tightness in your chest wondering why he didn’t want to share his pain with you while all of this was going on.  

”Oh, Yunnie,” you reach for his hand across the table, holding his large palm in yours. “I’m so sorry. I don’t understand how anyone could ever do that to you. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Maybe we can call it even?” He lets out a breathy laugh, ignoring your question. “You didn’t tell me your relationship troubles, I didn’t tell you mine. Now it’s all on the table and we can leave it in the past.” He squeezes your hand, waiting for your response. 

“Fine.” You flash a tight lipped smile, wanting to hash this open again with him at a later time. You didn’t keep secrets from each other, so why was he avoiding getting into this with you? 

“Well, it’s almost closing time.” Of course he’s gonna change the subject. “Do you need a night alone or are you coming home with me tonight?” He forces a smile from across the table, and you could’ve sworn his ears turned the slightest bit red asking you to spend the night. Sleepovers weren’t out of the norm for the two of you, but this proposal felt different for some reason. 

“I think if I’m alone at my place tonight I’ll revert to the sad couch potato I was before I texted you earlier.” You don’t really believe that, feeling like you’ve moved past the depression stage of grief and slowly inching toward acceptance. But you still wanted the company. 

“I’d love to come home with you, Yunnie.”

“Then let’s go, sweetheart.” 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Your neighborhood was so beautiful at night. The soft streetlights cast a gentle glow on the sidewalk, illuminating little puddles of water from last night’s rain. The fall air feels cool and crisp, carrying the faint smell of the changing leaves. This late at night, the stillness is calming… usually. 

You two had found this to be the perfect environment to have your deepest talks. Taking regular nighttime walks with Yunho had become one of your cherished rituals, especially when one of you needed to get something off your chest. You’d shared fragments of your lives, from your family drama to his frequent arguments with a stubborn coworker at his new job. But tonight, a suffocating silence swirls around you. 

You’d taken a full lap around the neighborhood in silence since leaving Blossom, the familiar path devoid of your usual chatter. As you approach Yunho’s place, his brisk pace and hands shoved deep in his pockets told you he wasn’t going to be the one to acknowledge it. He was never one for confrontation. If he wouldn’t tell you what’s going on voluntarily, you’d have to coax it out of him.   

You stop walking, the cool air feeling sharper on your skin. He takes three more strides before he stops too, spinning back around to face you, confusion etched on his devastatingly handsome features.

“You okay, bean?” he asks, tilting his head at you, genuine concern flickering in his eyes. 

“I feel like I should be asking you the same thing,” you reply, barely above a whisper. Maybe you weren’t one for confrontation either. 

He takes a step closer to you, “I’m fine,” he says with a quick shrug and a slight shake of his head. 

“Then why haven’t you spoken to me since we left Blossom? Did I say something to upset you?” You try your hardest to grab your frustration before it bubbles up, but you can already tell it’s too late. His dismissive tone, both here and at the cafe, gnaws at you. It triggers something inside of you from your recently ended relationship, and you feel on the verge of either shutting down or letting your emotions spiral.  

“I just thought you might want a quiet walk is all.” He can barely look you in the eye, and that’s when you know something is very wrong. 

“Come on Yun, you know that’s not what’s going on. Something is bothering you.” The frustration claws higher and higher, an unwelcome tightness gripping at your chest. Don’t cry, y/n.

He opens his mouth, the words hanging on the tip of his tongue, but stops himself, his hands finally pulling from his pockets to rest on his hips. He stares at a fallen leaf swirling in a puddle between you. 

“Is it because we talked about your ex?” He winces just a little at your words. “I didn’t mean to open old wounds, I just thought after everything we’ve shared with each other that you’d want to talk to me about it.” You don’t mean for your words to sound accusatory, but based on the way his body tenses, you realize they must have. 

“It’s not that, y/n, it’s not about…” his voice trails off into a sigh. His eyes search yours, his mind racing trying to decide if he wants to get into what’s really going on, what he’s been keeping inside for so long. 

“Then what is it?” You’re grasping at straws, desperately trying to get him to give you anything to go off of. When you’re met with more silence and an indiscernible look in his eyes, you push forward.

“I just don’t get why you wouldn’t tell me she cheated on you Yun, we help each other through everything.” Anger wells up in you, more at yourself for not asking him to open up to you about it at the time. 

“Y/n, please, it’s more complicated than just her cheating, and I just don’t know if now is the best time to get into it, you’re still—”

“Still what, Yunho? Grieving my own relationship? Just because I just got dumped doesn’t mean I can’t be here for you!” Your voice rises, each word sharp, the tension in your throat threatening to break. “You don’t get to decide what I can and can’t handle, that’s not up to you—”

“Fine,” he interrupts, “do you wanna know the real reason I didn’t tell you, y/n? Is that what you want?” His ears redden, and you can’t tell if he’s angry, embarrassed, or a combination of the two. You nod hesitantly. “I didn’t tell you she cheated because I didn’t care, okay? I didn’t care. Her heart wasn’t in it anymore, but neither was mine.” His chest heaves, squeezing his eyes shut tight for a brief moment to brace himself. 

“I didn’t care that she cheated, because I didn’t want her anyway.” He lets out a shaky breath. “I wanted you.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

His eyes burn into yours as his words hang in the air between the two of you. 

“Yunho…” You take a step toward him only for him to take a step back. Your heart is pounding so hard in your chest, you wonder if he can hear it. What is happening right now?

“I’m sorry y/n, I can’t keep it to myself anymore. I’ve held it in for so long, and I just can’t do it anymore, I—” He stutters over his words, “I wasn’t grieving my relationship, I was grieving yours. You found someone just before she ended things with me, and I realized maybe you and I weren’t meant to be. That we’d never have the chance to try.” His eyes gloss over with pent up emotion, thinking about all the time he spent wondering what could’ve been. “I wanted you, but I had to act like I didn’t, and we were becoming such good friends, I didn’t want to ruin it, I just—” 

”Did you think I didn’t feel the same?” You interrupt him. “That I don’t feel the same now?” 

He tilts his head at you, the tension in his body visibly disintegrating. “What are you saying?” Brows furrowing, cheeks blushing, so many emotions flying through his features at a speed neither of you can process. He runs his hands down his face before resting them on his hips. “Sweetheart, what are you saying?” 

“I wanted you, too, Yun…” The words tumble out of you, a rush of honesty that feels both exhilarating and terrifying. “I want you too.”

He takes another step toward you, his mind racing as he searches for answers to never ending questions. “You did?” Another step. “You do?” 

“Yes, and yes,” you nod, feeling warmth flood your cheeks at your admission—both to Yunho and to you. You realize you’d never said it out loud before, not even to yourself. 

“Say it again,” he urges, closing the gap between the two of you. One hand finds your waist while the other gently cradles the back of your neck. His touch lights a fire on your skin, his hands feeling heavier on your body than they ever have before. Your hands find their way to his waist, tugging him closer to you. Chests heaving, hearts racing.

“I want you, Yunho.”  

The tension between you peaks, your grip tightening on one another, like if either one of you lets go, the moment will slip away. Yunho’s eyes search yours, looking for confirmation. 

He gently cups your face, his thumb brushing your cheek, wiping away the remnants of your tears. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, igniting the familiar spark that had always lingered between the two of you. Your breath hitches in your throat, caught between the fear of moving too fast and the undeniable pull you have always felt towards him. 

You bring a hand up to his cheek, your fingers gliding over his skin, feeling the warmth radiating from him. You linger for a moment before wrapping your fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. 

“Y/n,” he whispers, “sweetheart,”  his gaze drops to your lips, and you swear you can hear your hearts beating in time with one another in the quiet. 

You take a deep breath, searching his gaze for the same spark of desire you feel coursing through your body. He inches closer, breath mingling with yours, heating the space between you.

“Is this okay?” he asks softly, his voice trembling slightly. 

You nod, breathless, as you lean in just enough to finally close the distance between the two of you. 

The tip of his nose brushes against yours, the contact making your head spin. You’ve thought about this moment countless times, and being here feels so right.

“Yunho,” you breathe, “please kiss me alr—“

His mouth molds to yours before you can finish your sentence, pulling all the remaining air from your lungs. The world around you explodes in a flash of warmth and tenderness, all the hurt you had been feeling melting away into a puddle at your feet.

You feel a rush of emotions— relief, joy, and a deep, intoxicating desire— as he deepens the kiss. Your hands tighten around the back of his neck, pulling him closer as he sweeps his tongue across your bottom lip. You lose yourself in the sensation, the taste of him and the feeling of his lips on yours erasing everything else you’ve ever felt. 

His fingers tangle in your hair, holding you as if you might disappear. This moment, this kiss, feels like a declaration— a culmination of all the unspoken words, the hidden glances, the years of longing between the two of you. It’s exhilarating.

He finally pulls away, resting his forehead against yours, your heavy breaths the only sounds on the quiet street. Your hands slide from his neck, traveling down his chest before settling on his waist. 

“Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to cut you off,” he chuckles, brushing a strand of hair from your face, “I’ve just been waiting a really long time to do that.” He drops a gentle kiss to your forehead before wrapping his arms around you to pull you close. 

“You can cut me off anytime if it means I get to kiss you,” you nuzzle into his chest. The steady thud of his heartbeat slows yours to match. 

“Oh yeah?” He looks down at you, a teasing glint in his eyes. 

“Yes, abso—“

His lips connect to yours again, a fire igniting in your belly when his tongue tangles with yours. He tastes like caramel, the sweetness of his latte lingering on his tongue. Wide hands wrap around your hips, dragging you closer, rolling your body into him. 

You snake your hands up his lower back, digging your nails into his skin through his shirt. A low groan rumbles deep in Yunho’s throat at the sensation, sending a bolt of heat straight to your core. A whimper crawls up your throat before you can stop it, and Yunho smiles against your mouth. He draws your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently. 

“Your lips are even softer than I imagined they’d be,” he gives you one more lingering kiss before pulling back. His deep eyes find yours, his blushed cheeks glowing under the streetlights. 

“You’ve imagined kissing me?” Shyness creeps in at the realization that Yunho thought about you in the same way you thought about him. 

“Among other things, yes,” he brushes your hair out of your face, his palm settling to cup your cheek. “You’re cute when you blush.” 

“I am not blushing!” You hide your face in your hands. “Maybe I am, but how can I not when you talk to me like that,” you muffle into your palms. 

“I’ll talk to you any way you want if it means you’ll react like this,” he teases, gently pulling your hands from your face to hold them in his. “Your hands are freezing, sweetheart,” he brings your hands to his mouth, holding them between his and blowing his hot breath onto them to warm them up.

”Well we have been out here a while,” you shiver at the feeling of his breath on your skin. 

“Am I still allowed to take you home tonight, or would that complicate things?” He’s either nervous, or hesitant. Either would make sense, you just got dumped and 24 hours later you’re confessing your feelings for your best friend (and kissing him). Anyone with a brain might wonder if you’re rushing, or worse, rebounding. Once you get out of this cold, you can talk things through. 

“Yes, please, let’s go.” You take his hand in yours, kissing his knuckles before pulling him in the direction of his place.

“You got it, baby.” He slings an arm over your shoulder, planting a kiss to the top of your head. Your heart flutters as you walk toward his apartment. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

As soon as you walk through Yunho’s front door, he breezes past you to grab two wine glasses and a bottle of your favorite rosé while you kick off your boots. As you shed your jacket, he sets two full glasses on his simple wooden coffee table, heading back to his kitchen to grab a bag of chips and some chocolates. He returns with his hands full, confusion lacing his features when he finds you standing in the middle of his living room stifling a laugh. 

“Is something funny?” He chuckles at your reddening cheeks as you let out a giggle. 

“When did you get so nervous to have me in your apartment?” Part of you feels bad for teasing, but he looks so cute when he’s flustered, you can’t help it. “I’ve never seen you move so fast to get me a glass of wine.” 

“Well, when you decide to tell me you want me in the middle of the street, that tends to change things, baby,” he grins at you, clocking you for the second time now having a physical reaction to his newest pet name for you. You thought sweetheart sounded beautiful coming out of his mouth, but baby is a whole new level of intoxicating.

”You said it first, but I guess that does change things, huh, baby?” You cross your arms, challenging him. “Do I make you nervous, Jeong Yunho?” 

“You make me a lot of things, sweetheart, but nervous isn’t one of them.” He pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, the gesture making your head spin. After setting your snacks down on the coffee table, he finally takes off his jacket and kicks off his shoes. He plops down on his couch, patting the empty cushion next to him. “Come sit with me,” the deep, inviting tone of his voice has you moving to him immediately. Grabbing your wine, you sit next to him, folding one leg up onto the couch to turn to face him. He copies your position, his knee resting just an inch from yours. 

“What do I make you feel, then?” You swirl your wine in your glass as your gaze flicks over his handsome features. Landing on his eyes, your heart jumps at the way they shine for you. 

“Fulfilled,” he starts, scooting closer to you so your knees are just barely touching. “Cared for, understood,” the corner of his mouth quirks up slightly, “and loved.” 

A bloom of warmth floods your chest at the word. This is what you’ve been missing the last few years. You thought your ex would give you this sense of gratification if you gave him more time, but what you were searching for was in your best friend. You always knew in the back of your mind that it was him. The one who held you when you cried, who made you laugh until your stomach hurt, who would drop everything to be there when you needed him. You take a big sip of your wine. 

“I was settling,” the words fall off your lips before you can stop them, the alcohol warming your cheeks right away. “I thought that if I kept giving him everything he would eventually give me half of what I was craving, but in the back of my mind I think I knew he’d never be what I really needed… I settled for him.” 

Yunho offers a soft nod, zero judgment, only understanding. “And what is it you were craving?” He moves even closer to you, your shins now pressed together. 

“You,” you sigh, his deep eyes boring into yours, waiting for more. You tap your fingers on your wine glass, contemplating your next words. “The connection, the comfort, the joy, the love that you gave me,” your throat tightens thinking about the nights you spent longing for your best friend. “I wanted you, how you made me feel…but I settled for him.” 

“Right person, wrong time,” Yunho scoffs, a gentle shake of his head, “kind of applies to us, right? We’ve wanted each other for years now, but we just never had the chance.”

“I should’ve told you sooner, Yun,” your hand rests on his, his fingers immediately lacing between yours. “We’ve wasted so much time,” hot tears blur your vision, but you blink them away before they fall.

“Hey, we have all the time in the world, baby,” he brings your hand to his mouth, planting a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “All the time in the world,” he muffles against your skin. You turn your palm to hold his cheek, and you notice his eyes roll back before they flutter closed.

“All the time in the world,” you repeat, threading your fingers into his hair. A future with Yunho flashes through your mind. Lazy Sunday mornings, celebrating milestones and holidays together, late nights tangled in the sheets, his body taking over yours — 

“Y/n…” His deep, smooth voice brings you back to the moment, the sound of your name on his lips heating your cheeks. 

“Hm?” 

He gently takes your wine glass from your hand, setting it on the coffee table next to his untouched one. When his eyes find yours again, warmth pools in your belly at the darkness that’s taken over his features. “I really want to kiss you again, but I feel like we should talk first,” he takes both your hands in his, and your heart pounds a beat faster in your chest. “If you spend the night tonight, there’s no going back. Once I have you, I don’t think I can let you go.” 

“I don’t want you to let me go, Yun,” you squeeze his hands in yours. “I’ve waited too long to get here, I don’t wanna go back… You already have me, don’t let me go.” The thudding in your rib cage intensifies with every second of heated silence.

“I couldn’t if I tried,” he finally says, pulling you in, crashing his lips into yours. His hands find your waist, his tongue exploring your mouth, and you wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls you into his lap. You straddle him, resting your knees on either side of his hips, deepening the kiss as his hands wander to cup your ass, pulling you closer to him. You roll your hips against him, his grip tightening on you as he drags your body over him. A groan rumbles in his chest and you feel his cock stiffening beneath you, grinding on him slower and harder. 

“I can’t believe you’re finally mine,” Yuhho’s hand snakes up your back and into your hair, gently removing your clip and tossing it to the floor before gripping your locks and tilting your head to the side, exposing the sensitive column of your neck to his mouth. He nips at your skin, licking the spot with his tongue, moving up to the tender spot under your ear. “My beautiful girl,” his hot breath in your ear has your entire body blooming with goosebumps.

”Yunho,” you roll your hips over him again as his lips travel down your neck to your collarbone, a whimper crawling up your throat at your rough jeans catching on your swelling clit. He feels harder and harder underneath you with each rock against him, and you’re cursing yourself for wearing such thick pants. You just want to feel him. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” He tightens his grip on your hair, kissing back up your neck until his lips connect with yours again. You moan into his mouth as his other hand guides your hips back and forth, shamelessly grinding your bodies against each other like horny teenagers. 

“Touch me please,” you beg, catching his bottom lip between your teeth, sucking on it gently. 

“Only because you asked so nicely,” he teases. He snakes an arm around your waist and smoothly rolls you onto your back, laying you down in the soft cushions. He kneels, settling between your legs, spreading them wide to roll his hips into your needy clothed core. His mouth finds yours again, tangling his tongue with yours.

The hand in your hair loosens, trailing down your body, ghosting over your breasts, down your belly, and lifting your sweater slightly to get to your jeans. He makes light work of the button and zipper, his nimble fingers undoing the fastenings with ease, all while keeping his mouth on yours. You feel him tapping on your ass, signaling you to lift your hips. When you do, he shimmies your jeans down your legs agonizingly slowly, breaking the kiss to admire the bits of your skin he’s dreamt about for years. 

He tosses your jeans on his living room floor, and a timidity slithers up at the realization that you’re in your underwear on your best friend’s couch.  His broad hands rest on your thighs, letting you close them slightly, your shared shuddering breaths the only sound in his quiet apartment. 

“Getting shy on me, sweetheart?” He teases you, reading your mind. He knows you so well. You giggle as he slides his hands to your sweater, dragging it up your body, exposing your panties, shifting it higher and higher until the bottom hem of your bra is barely showing. He slides his hands under your top, expertly cradling your bra-clad breasts in his hands, letting out a restrained groan. The energy shifts and you whimper, watching his eyes locked on the way his fingers swim beneath the fabric of your sweater. You let your legs fall open slightly as Yunho slots himself between them, peppering your belly with gentle kisses and thumbing one of your pebbling nipples through the thin material of your bra. 

“Yun…” you sigh, running your fingers through his hair as he kisses you lower and lower, “please,” 

“Mhm,” he nods against your soft skin, shifting down to lay on his belly between your legs, hooking your knees over his shoulders. You feel his searing breath over your pussy, cooling the growing wet patch in your panties, making you clench around nothing. He picks up on your reaction, gripping your hips before blowing a steady stream of air over your sensitive heat. 

“Oh,” you breathe, wriggling under his strong grasp, spreading your legs wider for him. 

“You’re so reactive,” he murmurs, biting down on your inner thigh, soothing the spot with his tongue. You yelp at the sensation, covering your mouth in shock of the sound that just came out of you. Yunho chuckles darkly, “don’t hold back, baby, I wanna hear all the noises you make.” 

He hooks an arm over your hip so his hand rests on your mound. He grips your panties in his fist, pulling them up until the fabric slips between your wet folds, gliding firmly over your clit. You stifle a sob as he tugs them harder, biting you once more. 

“I thought I told you not to hold back, sweetheart,” he licks your skin again, soothing the angry bite mark that will surely be bruised by morning. Another tug of your panties has you mewling, one hand gripping his hair for dear life, the other blindly searching for anything to ground you. 

“Yunnie, please, stop teasing me,” you never thought your sweet and wholesome best friend could have you whimpering and begging beneath him, hardly having touched you. He has such a dark, dominating presence about him in this moment, and it’s making your head fuzzy. 

He lets go of your panties, swiftly pulling them to the side, exposing your wet heat to the cool air. You suck in a sharp inhale, finally bare to him.

“Fuck,” he moans, “look at you, baby,” he runs two fingers through your heat, the sudden contact making you cry out. He spreads you wide to see every inch of you, taking his time. “So pretty,” he breathes. 

“I need you, please,” you whine, “are you gonna make me keep begging?” 

“Baby, I’ve wanted to touch you like this for years,” he drawls, “let me savor it a little.” Before you can protest, he teases your entrance with two fingers, slowly thrusting them deeper and deeper inside you, little by little, until his palm is flush with your cunt. Your head falls back into the cushions, your chest heaving. You had daydreamed about how his fingers would feel inside of you, but nothing compares to the real thing. He pumps in and out a few more times before he curls his fingers, hitting the spot that makes your back arch. You grip his hair, tugging on it harder than you mean to, but you can’t help it. You miss the way his eyes roll back, his mouth hanging open at the pain. 

Yunho lets you guide his mouth to your core, his fingers keeping a steady pace as he uses his free hand to spread you open, swirling his tongue around your clit. 

“Yunnie…” you whimper, grinding your hips on his mouth. He nods against you, sucking your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the swollen bud over and over in time with his fingers moving in and out of you. Pleasure blooms in your belly as he works you, each flick of his tongue bringing you closer to the edge. 

“Feeling good, sweetheart?” He replaces his tongue with his thumb, circling your clit softly to ease you into the sensation. You push yourself down into his hand, needing more. He chuckles, applying more pressure until he feels you melting under him.

“Yes, so good Yun, fuck,” the pressure low in your belly builds rapidly, and you know if he keeps going at this pace, you’ll fall apart in no time. You prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him, and once your eyes lock with his you know you’re a goner. 

His hair is mussed from your tugging on it, his cheeks flushed, his mouth glistening, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple as he picks up the pace ever so slightly. He smirks at you, letting your legs fall from his shoulders so he can kneel between them again, sitting back to get a good look at you, never slowing his ministrations. You make the mistake of glancing down, your mouth drying at the sight of his cock pressing against the confines of his jeans. He hits that spot deep inside you again, and you fall back into the cushions, breathy curses falling from your mouth over and over. 

“You look so beautiful like this, fucking hell,” he drops his free hand next to your head, caging you in beneath him, watching his fingers pistoning in and out of you faster and faster, circling your clit in a matching pace. “Mine, mine, mine,” he repeats over and over, like he can’t believe this is finally happening. He brings his lips to yours, mumbling the words against your mouth as you nod wordlessly in agreement, the taste of yourself on his tongue making you dizzy. He kisses you down to your neck, nipping at your sensitive skin, praise after praise whispered into your ear. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” he emphasizes his words with a sharp thrust of his fingers, and you cry out at the sensation. 

“I’m yours, I’m yours— fuck!” You feel the cord in your belly tightening and tightening. 

“Good fucking girl,” he whispers in your ear, nipping at your earlobe, “come around my fingers, baby,” 

“Oh, oh,” you shudder underneath him, his words pushing you over the edge as your orgasm rips through your body, pleasure burning from the inside out. He kisses you hard, slowing his pace bit by bit to ease you through your climax, your body trembling in his hold. “Yunho,” you mumble into his mouth, “I’m yours,” you whisper.

“You sure are,” he peppers your cheeks with soft, tender kisses, your brain slowly coming back online as he slows his fingers, coming to a stop. “And I’m yours,” he kisses you gently, easing his fingers out of you, slipping your panties back into place. He lays down on the couch next to you, pulling your favorite throw blanket over your exposed bottom half, tracing hearts and stars on your skin while your breathing steadies, running his fingers through your hair as you let your eyes flutter closed. You snuggle into him, the warmth of his body keeping the flame in your core burning. 

“You are incredible, Jeong Yunho,” you giggle as he kisses every inch of your face, his soft lips mapping the details of your skin. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

“Why, because I made you come in 5 minutes flat?” His low drawl has desire coursing through your veins, part of you feeling embarrassed he can turn you on so easily with just his words. 

Your breath hitches as you nod, trying to keep your cool, but he knows you better than that by now. “You really like when I talk to you like this, don’t you, baby?” 

“Apparently I do,” you turn to look at him, a teasing glint in his eyes, his fingers dancing across the bare skin of your belly. “I’d love to hear what else you have to say,” you tease. 

“Well for starters, I want to take you to bed” His mouth hovers over the shell of your ear, the combination of his hot breath fanning over your skin and the vibrations of his deep voice have lust taking over your thoughts once again. “I want to fuck you properly, and we just don’t exactly have the space for that here,” you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh,” you giggle, his straightforwardness taking you by surprise. Just like that you’re throbbing for him again, your mind racing thinking about where your night with him is going to go. “I’d like that.”

Before he can catch you, you jump up from the couch, leaving your throw blanket behind, beelining for the hallway toward Yunho’s bedroom, giggling the whole way.

“Hey!” He laughs, clamoring up to chase after you. A few long strides and he’s caught up to you, right in the doorway of his bedroom. He hooks an arm around your waist and you yelp as he spins you around to face him, the momentum of both your running carrying you to the foot of his bed. The backs of your knees hit the mattress, but he holds you upright, pressing your body against his. Your eyes lock, both of you breathing heavily.

“Someone’s excited,” Yunho chuckles, giving you a firm kiss before pushing you back onto his bed. You let out a breathless laugh as you plop down on the mattress, pushing yourself to sit upright.  

“A little,” your hands find his torso, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He smirks down at you as you run your hands under his shirt and up his stomach to chest. He lets out a shaky breath at the feeling of your hands on him, and pulls his shirt off over his head, discarding it on the floor. You’d seen him without a shirt a handful of times, but this close he looks ethereal. Your fingers dance across his bare skin, reveling in the feeling of being able to touch him like this. You want to see more of him, touch more of him, taste more of him. 

“Yun,” you start, hesitant to take the lead. You slide your hands down his body until your fingers feel the smooth leather of his belt. Your eyes meet his, not breaking contact while you smoothly undo his belt buckle. “Can I?” You whisper. 

“You can do whatever you want to me, y/n,” he breathes, looking down to where your fingers are undoing the button of his jeans, sliding the zipper down slowly. You pull his jeans down, and he kicks them to the side, standing before you in only his boxers, his hard length pressing against the confines of the fabric.

His fingers lace through your hair, gripping it gently to tip your head back. Keeping your eyes on him, you slowly pull your sweater over your head, letting him let go of your hair to take it from your hands and toss it to the floor. You reach behind you, undoing the clasp of your bra, slowly sliding it from your body and dropping it next to your discarded sweater. Yunho’s chest heaves as he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, drinking this image of you in, dragging his gaze across your exposed chest.

“So beautiful,” his voice has dropped even lower, a tone you’ve never heard from him, the deep timbre stoking the fire deep inside you. “You are so beautiful,” he cups your face in his hands, bending over to kiss you softly. He parts your lips with his tongue as you rest your hands on his abdomen, sliding one down to palm his cock over his boxers. 

“Fuck,” he groans into your mouth, your fingers wrapping around him as much as you can through the fabric, stroking his impressive length as he licks deeper into your mouth. You pump him from base to tip, running your thumb over the wet patch at the head of his cock, drawing another guttural moan from his lips. Your mouth is watering at the feeling of him, but it’s not enough. 

You dip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, and Yunho breaks the kiss to watch you pull them slowly down, down, down, until his cock springs free, hanging heavy in front of you. You absentmindedly lick your lips at the sight of him, feeling the wetness in your panties growing. Lust prickles across your skin thinking about feeling him inside of you. 

“Yunho,” you sigh, wrapping your fingers around him, pumping him slowly as he stands up straight, tugging your hair in his fist to tip your head back again. “I want you to fuck my throat,” you whine, “please,” 

“Oh, baby,” he grips your hair tighter at your words while you stroke him, the sting making your cheeks warm, “you want me to stuff your pretty little mouth? Wanna wrap those beautiful lips around me?” Towering over you like this, you start to realize just how much he could overpower you, and the thought spreads heat through your abdomen. 

“Please,” you nod, “I wanna taste you,” you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out for him, keeping your eyes on his. You pump his length twice more as you guide his hips toward your mouth, dropping your hands into your lap as his tip rests on your tongue. 

“Mmh, so pretty,” he whispers, wrapping his fist around his cock, tapping his tip on your tongue before sliding past your lips. “If it gets to be too much, just tap my thigh, okay sweetheart?” 

You nod, wrapping your lips around him, sliding your tongue over the sensitive underside of his tip. His head falls back, a beautiful moan falling from his lips as you slowly start to bob your head. You take more of him, inch by inch until his cock taps the back of your throat. You swallow around him, and he absentmindedly thrusts deeper, chasing the sensation. 

“Fuck,” he groans, his grip on your hair tightening again as he holds you there. “I’m gonna move now, is that okay?” He brings his free hand to your cheek, caressing it gently as you nod in confirmation. As soon as you give him the signal, he pulls back slightly, rocking his hips slowly, savoring the feeling of your lips wrapped around him and your tongue gliding over him. “So beautiful with your mouth stuffed so  full,” he praises you, thrusting deeper into your mouth, down your throat, testing the limits of what you can take. He finds a steady rhythm, and you match his pace, bobbing your head and licking over every inch of him as he pumps in and out of your mouth, the stretch burning your throat deliciously.

You can’t take your eyes off of him, tears blurring your vision as you admire his lustful features. His furrowed brow, his blown pupils, his flushed cheeks. The bead of sweat dripping down the tip of his nose, the tensing muscles in his stomach as he pumps into your mouth… he looks so beautiful. You find yourself rocking your hips, grinding into the mattress, looking for any friction you can get.

He thrusts deep into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat again, and he holds you down on him, your nose brushing over his abdomen. The lack of air makes your head spin, and you want him even deeper. You reach up to grab his hips, but your hand bumps his thigh on the way up, which he takes as your signal that it’s too much. 

“Shit,” he pulls out of your mouth, and you gasp for air as he drops to his knees in front of you. “Are you okay, baby? I’m so sorry, was that too rough?” His eyes are full of panic and he brushes your hair out of your face, wiping the saliva that had bubbled up at the corners of your mouth. It all happens so fast, it takes you a moment to process the man waiting in front of you, waiting for a response. Before you can stop yourself, a smile breaks across your face and a giggle rises up your throat. 

“Yunnie,” you laugh, cradling his concerned face in your hands, “I’m fine, more than fine,” you try to catch your breath. “I was trying to…grab your hips to pull you closer, but I … bumped your leg by mistake,” his panicked face relaxes, a beautiful smile taking its place, and he lets out a deep sigh of relief. “I do appreciate how quickly you stopped though,” you tease him, your breathing finally steady, “it’s nice to know my boundaries will be taken very seriously.” 

“You scared me!” He laughs, dropping his head in your lap. 

“It was an accident!” You laugh with him, brushing through his hair with your fingers. “I actually wanted you to be more rough with me,” 

He straightens up. “Is that so?” He plants his hands on the mattress on either side of your hips, the darkness returning to his gaze as he stands again, leaning over you. You lean back onto your elbows as he towers over you, his eyes raking over every inch of your body. 

“It is,” you whisper, suddenly feeling so small beneath him, all lightheartedness suddenly sucked out of the room. “I would enjoy that very much,” 

“Mmh,” he hooks an arm under your waist, lifting you easily and moving your body further up the mattress. You let out a small yelp as he drops you, heart warming as he reaches above you to grab a pillow to prop under your head. Once he’s sure you’re comfortable, he hooks his fingers on your panties, and you lift your hips for him to peel them off of you. He tosses them to the floor, turning his attention back to you, spreading your legs wide open, kneeling between them.

“I would enjoy that too, however,” he runs his hands up your calves, your thighs, until he reaches your center, using both hands to spread you wide open. You watch in awe as he runs two fingers through your arousal, teasingly dipping them inside of you. “I want to savor every moment of this,” he dips down to kiss you softly as he drives his fingers even deeper, prodding that tender spot inside of you, drawing a whine from your lips. “Let me be gentle this time, let me show you how much I–” he pauses, something indiscernible flashing through his eyes. “Let me show you how much I’ve been wanting you,” he recovers. “Then next time,” his thumb flicks over your clit, “I will do whatever you want me to do to you,” he circles the sensitive bud, your mind reeling. “Does that sound good, baby?” 

“Mhm,” you nod, “so good,” you whimper as he scissors his fingers inside of you, surely trying to stretch you open for what’s to come. 

He reaches for the drawer in his nightstand with his free hand, but you stop him. “You don’t have to wear one,” you interrupt.

“Are you sure?” His fingers keep moving inside of you, stretching you wider with each thrust, but still giving your conversation his attention.

“I’m on the pill and was tested recently, so yes, please Yunnie, I want to feel you,” you mewl, “please let me feel you,”  

“So good for me,” he praises you over and over, “are you ready?” 

“Yes, please,” you whine when he pulls his fingers from your cunt, desperate for him. He lifts your hips, pulling you closer to him, nestling himself between your legs, being sure to adjust your pillow once more. He spreads you open with one hand, tapping the tip of his solid cock on your swollen clit before rubbing it up and down your slit, lining up with your entrance. You both freeze at the same time as the reality of what’s about to happen finally hits you.

The feeling of this moment is nothing you’ve experienced before. For years, you’ve longed for Yunho, wanting the intimacy of your friendship to go beyond just emotional intimacy. You’ve yearned for him as long as you’ve known him. You wanted him– all of him. Finally, the universe decided it’s time for you two to experience that. 

You realize he’s feeling it too, his hand finding your cheek in the silence, brushing away a tear that you didn’t realize had fallen down your cheek. “I know, baby,” he whispers, and that’s all you need to hear. 

He presses his lips to your forehead as he slowly pushes inside, easing you into the sensation, gently stretching you out on his cock. You feel grateful that he prepped you with his fingers, the sting you feel only lasting a few brief moments before he’s smoothly gliding into you. He pushes in deeper and deeper, until you’re filled to the brim. He drops his hands to the mattress on either side of your head as he bottoms out. Almost in unison, you both let out a shuddering exhale. 

“You feel incredible, fuck” he breathes against your forehead, finally pulling back to look into your eyes, your bodies finally connected physically in the way they’ve felt connected spiritually all these years. “And you look so pretty, my angel,” he whispers, his eyes shining. 

“I don’t know how you can still manage to make me blush when you’re literally inside of me,” you pant, shyly giggling as your cheeks warm under his loving gaze. He hisses at the way you squeeze around him when you laugh. “Sorry,” you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your giggles. 

“I’m learning so much about you today,” he pulls hips back slightly before burying himself inside you again, all teasing coming to an instant halt as the tip of his cock presses against your g-spot. 

“Oh my–” your back arches at the feeling, “God Yunnie, I feel so f-full.” 

“You’re doing so well baby,” he praises you again, giving you a moment to adjust to his size. “Look at you, so beautiful taking my cock.” 

“I need you to fuck me,” you scramble to grip his forearms, feeling the taut muscles under his skin. “Please,” you wriggle your hips beneath him, “move,” 

“Mm,” he pulls out almost completely, just the tip of his cock resting inside of you, “say it again, sweetheart,” 

“Fuck me Yunnie, please,” you beg, trying to push your hips down on his cock. 

“God, I’ve waited so long to hear you say that, I’ll never get tired of it” he slams into you, and you cry out as he bottoms out inside of you again. He sets a steady pace, rolling his hips into you over and over, the feeling of him pumping in and out of you more delicious than you could’ve ever imagined. He kisses you hard, licking into your mouth, swallowing all of your pretty little moans. 

He cups one of your breasts in his wide palm, running his thumb over your nipple, stoking the fire in the pit of your belly. He straightens, admiring how beautiful you look while you take him. Your lips red and puffy, your eyes half lidded, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. 

“So pretty, taking me so well,” he praises you as his hand coasts up your chest, fingers gently wrapping around your neck. He holds his hand there for a moment, making a mental note of the way your eyes light up when he briefly squeezes the column of your throat. 

“F-feels so g-good,” you choke out between thrusts. His thumb slides along your jaw toward your chin, prodding at your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open. You wrap your lips around his thumb, sucking on it briefly before he pops it out of your mouth, trailing it down your body until he reaches your clit. The contact has your head spinning, the cord in your center tightening and tightening as he flicks your sensitive bud. 

“Baby, look,” his voice cuts through the foggy lust in your head, grabbing your attention. He nods down to where your bodies are connected, gesturing for you to take a glance. 

One look at him splitting you open has your climax threatening to wash over you, warmth running up and down your spine at the sight of your arousal shining on his cock as he pistons in and out of your heat relentlessly. He swirls his thumb around your clit faster at the feeling of you squeezing around him.

“You close, sweetheart?” He’s breathless as he fucks you, hitting so deep inside you that you can feel it in your stomach. 

“Mhm, fuck, yes,” you cry out, scrambling for his free hand, lacing your fingers between his. 

“Come on, I want to watch you fall apart around my cock.” He’s fucking you impossibly hard, each thrust hitting just right, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. “Let me feel you, love,” 

“Oh my god,” you stammer out a string of curses as your second orgasm washes over you, your heart thudding in your ears as your body tenses underneath him. He barely slows his pace, keeping his thumb resting on your clit, fucking you through your high. 

“There she is,” he coos, slowing little by little until your body starts to relax. He thrusts all the way inside, bottoming out, collapsing over you. 

“Wow,” you laugh, bringing your hands up to cradle his flushed face. “That was,” 

“Incredible?” He finishes your sentence, kissing your sweaty forehead over and over. You let out a soft moan in agreement, and his cock jumps inside of you at the sound. 

“Mmh,” you whimper, the warmth creeping back into your belly, and you squeeze around Yunho’s cock. 

“Wanting more already?” He teases, pushing his hips against you, thrusting himself in even deeper. 

“Absolutely,” you squeeze around him again, craning your neck up to capture his lips with yours. “Fuck me however you want, baby,” you whisper against his mouth. His cock twitches inside you again and you giggle, waiting for his next move. 

“Flip over,” he pants, “I wanna fuck you like this,” he slips out of you and you whine, feeling empty. He helps you roll onto your belly, kneeling behind you as he pulls your ass in the air and plants a hand in the middle of your back, guiding you to arch for him. You squish your cheek into the mattress, trying to look back at him. “Fucking hell,” he palms your ass with both hands, admiring your delectable form, “you are unreal.” 

“Yun, please, I need you,” you whine as he bends over your body, planting hot, wet kisses up your spine until he reaches the nape of your neck, bringing his lips to your ear. You feel his cock bump against your backside, his body flush against yours.

“You are insatiable, my love,” your heart flutters at the word, but your lust pushes any overanalyzing to the back of your mind in favor of how desperate you are for him. 

You push back into him, feeling the tip of his cock bump against your heat. He straightens at the feeling, rubbing circles into your hips with his thumbs as he watches you move. You roll your hips, catching the tip of his cock between your folds, wiggling and rocking to find the right angle before it finally slips inside. 

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers as you push back, taking him deeper and deeper until your ass is flush against him. You start bouncing your hips, taking him in and out, slowly at first, the sounds of his moans filling your ears and soaking your center. 

“Feel good, baby?” You muffle from beneath him, moving your hips quicker with each bounce on his cock. You open your legs a little wider, the new angle rocking his cock against your g-spot. 

“The best thing I’ve ever felt,” he rolls his hips to meet yours, the sound of skin slapping filling the air of his bedroom. “I can’t believe how long we’ve waited for this,” he grips your hips, meeting your thrusts in earnest, fucking into you impossibly deep. You match each other’s pace immediately, moans and whines filling the air. 

He threads his fingers through your hair, tugging you upwards until your body is flush against his, your sweat-slicked bodies rocking together. His hand drops from your hair to wrap around your neck, holding you firmly in place as he threads his other hand between your legs, his middle and ring finger easily finding your swollen clit. 

“I want you like this forever,” he whispers in your ear as he drives into you, your motivation to bounce on him melting into the mattress beneath you. You want him to take you however he wants you, your body molding into his grip. 

“Forever,” you nod as he kisses your neck, “you have me forever Yunnie,” 

“Again,” he groans as you tighten around him, his fingers swirling around your clit, your third orgasm of the night building rapidly low in your belly. “Say it again,” 

“Forever,” you repeat, “I’m yours forever,” 

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m so close,” he growls into your ear, “you take me so well, like you were made for me,” 

“I was, Yun,” you assure him, “I was made for you,” he rubs your clit faster, “and you were made for me,” 

“God, yes,” he kisses your shoulder, his pace faltering as he gets closer to the edge, “I love you, y/n, fuck.” His fingers swirl around your clit as his hips stutter, spilling hot and fast inside of you. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he repeats over and over as he ruts into you. 

“I love you, Yunho,” you cry out, your heart exploding as your orgasm follows, your body shuddering against him as you come together, your words and his swirling around you in the afterglow. 

He holds you tight against him, guiding your spent form back down to the mattress, kissing every inch of your skin as you both come down from your highs. He slips out of you, lowering your hips, massaging your sore muscles before rolling onto his back next to you. You mimic his position, flipping over so you’re both staring at the ceiling, processing the words you both just confessed. You lay together in silence, the sounds of both of you trying to catch your breath filling the room. You let your eyes close, processing the moment.

“Jeong Yunho,” your voice is hoarse once you speak. “Tell me you love me.” Your eyes flutter open, turning your head to see him already beaming at you. He rolls onto his side, bringing himself nose to nose with you. 

“I love you.” He declares, clear and confident, your heart swelling in your chest. His lips brush over yours, both of you smiling as he kisses you softly. “Your turn,” he whispers. You copy him, rolling onto your side, brushing his sweat slicked hair from his forehead as he throws an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“I love you,” you giggle, kissing him again. 

“One more time?” 

“I, love, you,” you emphasize each word with a gentle kiss on his lips, 

“I will never get tired of hearing that,” he whispers. “Let’s go get cleaned up.” 

You whine in protest, but Yunho eventually gets you into the bathroom, running a hot shower for the both of you. You wash up together, hardly able to keep your hands off of each other. Once you’ve fallen apart in his hands twice more and the water’s run cold, he helps you into a pair of his boxers and his biggest, softest sweatshirt. 

“This feels like a dream,” you think out loud once you’re snuggled up in Yunho’s bed together. “Is this a dream?” 

“If it is, I never want to wake up,” he smiles at you under the dim street lights flooding through his windows. “This is all I need, forever.” 

You kiss him at that, soft and tender, his arms wrapping tighter around you, holding you close. You fall asleep shortly after, nose to nose, hearts full. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

You wake to the morning sun shining through Yunho’s bedroom windows, the sweet smell of vanilla flooding your nose. Stretching your tired limbs, you roll over to find the other side of the bed empty. Panic floods your mind at the sight, your past making you assume the worst. Is he sleeping on the couch? You wonder. Does he regret what he said and now he’s avoiding me? Before you can reason with yourself, you jump out of bed and speed walk down the hallway, stopping dead in your tracks when you reach the kitchen. 

“You’re not freaking out, are you y/n?” Yunho drawls, his voice still laced with sleep, low and raspy. He hasn’t even looked at you yet, his focus being on the plate on the counter in front of him, but he already knows where your mind is at just by the sound of your footsteps coming down the hallway. Of course he does. His bare, wide shoulders shake as he laughs to himself. His pajama pants hang low on his hips, the muscles in his back moving beneath his skin as he throws the final touches on what’s in front of him. He spins around to face you holding a plate of pancakes, littered with strawberries cut into hearts. Your heart flutters at the scene in front of you. “You think I’m gonna make love to you, tell you that I love you, and not make you breakfast in the morning?” 

Suddenly feeling self conscious over your immediate assumption that he regretted your night together, you cross your arms, avoiding his gaze. “I got scared,” you whisper. 

“That I left you in my apartment all alone? Baby,” he puts the plate down, “I would never, especially after last night,” he crosses the kitchen to reach you, pulling you into his warm embrace, his hot skin beneath you melting away the coldness you felt from waking up alone. “I’m not like…him,” he reminds you, brushing his fingers through your hair. “You are safe with me. Safe, loved, protected, respected, I could go on and on. Do you understand me?” He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 

You nod against his chest. “I do,” you feel a tear slide down your cheek, spreading from your skin, onto his. He squeezes you in a tight hug. 

“Come on, let’s get some food in your system. You haven’t eaten since our pastries at Blossom last night,” he releases you to grab your plate, as well as a second he made for himself, and drops another quick kiss to your forehead before carrying them to the coffee table in his living room. 

“Come sit,” he beckons you, and you follow automatically, plopping on the couch. He grabs your favorite throw blanket before sitting down next to you, draping it over both of your laps. No matter how hard you try to ignore them, negative thoughts are still plaguing your mind. You both pick up your plates, eating in silence for a few moments before Yunho speaks up again. 

“Y/n, what’s on your mind?” His tone is so sincere, you immediately feel guilty for making him worry. 

“I’m just–” you hesitate for a moment. “I’m scared it’s too good to be true.” 

“What is? Us?” Worry flickers across his features, his heart aching seeing you so distraught. 

“Yeah,” you sigh, poking at one of your pancakes with your fork. You know you’re being unreasonable, and that Yunho has shown you nothing but love and commitment as long as you’ve known him. But your self doubt and your history of awful relationships is screaming at you that you don’t deserve him. You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t even realize that you’re crying. 

Yunho gently takes your plate from your hands, putting both his and yours back on the coffee table. He shifts his body slowly until he’s kneeling on the floor in front of you, resting his hands on your blanket-covered thighs.

“Y/n, look at me,” he pleads. You wipe the tears from your cheeks, patting the dampness into the blanket in your lap. You rest your hands on top of his, tracing the lines of his veins for a moment before dragging your gaze upwards to meet his. His eyes are glazed over with tears of his own. 

“Yunnie, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, I–”

“Listen to me,” he interrupts. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. The most precious thing in this world to me. Each moment that I spend with you fills me with a joy that I never experienced until I met you.” He turns his hands over to cradle yours as his tears finally fall down his cheeks. “I love you. And I will spend every day of the rest of my life proving that to you. And proving to you that you deserve the love that I give you.” 

You stifle a sob at his words, trying to take all of it in as the beautiful truth. You know he means it, he’s always meant every word he’s ever said to you, and you know you need to silence your anxieties in favor of what you know to be true. 

“It’s gonna take time,” you whisper. “It’ll take time for me to believe that I deserve what you give me,” you wipe your own tears, then his, both of you laughing breathlessly at your own emotions. “But I will get there,” you continue, “I just need you to be patient with me.” 

“Of course. I will spend the rest of my life reminding you what you deserve, sweetheart. That’s a promise.” 

“I love you.” You cradle his head in your hands, memorizing every inch of his face, savoring the first day of the rest of your lives.

“I love you,” he kisses the tip of your nose. “Let’s go finish our breakfast in bed.” 

“Okay,” you giggle watching Yunho jump up to grab both your plates, giddily walking toward his bedroom with a wide smile on his face. 

“You coming?” He glances over his shoulder at you, his ears blushing bright red as he waits for you. 

You nod, hopping up to follow after him, to your new forever.