#i think you go on forever. i think there is no end to you like there is no end to god.

[luveline]

jade!! can we please get something with junie’s mom and eddie? <3 missing them today

thank you for requesting! 1.3k

Eddie met you two weeks after you moved into the park, he’s pretty sure. Your baby ran out down the road because you didn’t know that all the trailers have the same bum lock, and she ended up on the Munson porch trying to get back home. 

He still remembers how she could barely talk. He had no idea how quickly babies explode with words. 

“Love you.” Junie smiles up at him, her waiting for a reciprocation all the more impressive. She’s just turned three, and Eddie would argue she doesn’t look it. She’s still a baby in his head. 

“I love you,” he says, leaning down to tap their noses together. 

“Can I have a hug?” 

Just a few short months ago she would’ve shouted “Hug!” and dove into his neck, or said nothing at all. He doesn’t see why that should change. 

“Babe, you don’t have to ask,” he says, wrapping his arms around her. 

She sighs in contentment, relaxing under his hand where he pulls it up and down her back. She’s getting bigger. Eddie can’t believe she’s already three. Where the hell does the time go? Days, weeks slip away. 

But at least they’re with you. God, he can’t believe they’re with you. 

“I’m feeling left out,” you say, laying on the floor of the trailer with your hands held over your chest. You’d been colouring with June a half hour ago, but she got bored fast and left you there. You’ve yet to get up. 

Eddie twists June in his lap so she can see you. He hugs her, and he presses his face to the top of her head, one eye open to see you and the other screwed closed. “You want us to come over?” he asks. 

You think about it. “No. I’m too tired to hug.” 

You’re always tired. Eddie knows that there’s a life he could give you one day where you don’t have to work. He’s not sure you’d let him, but he’d like to get promoted and move you out. He’d like to ask you properly to be his forever, to be permanent, and to live together as a family. Wayne’s telling him not to rush into things, but he really didn’t. You and Eddie were friends for half a year before he finally couldn’t take it anymore, and he doesn’t see that time as wasted, but he knows now that getting to kiss you is something he missed out on. 

Plus, being your boyfriend means he’s actually allowed to take care of you without dousing you in shame. You like being looked after. It’s why Eddie works a ten hour shift and comes straight home to you, so he can fold your laundry and you can get some rest. 

Every time you yawn, it’s a reminder for Eddie that he’s not making your life as easy as he could. (It’s not a healthy way to think about it. It’s not your fault or his that life is hard. But he thinks about it anyway.) 

Eddie gives June a kiss behind the ear and sets her down in the corner of the couch. He grins at her as he does, hoping for a detachment without tears, popping his head into his hand in mock nonchalance. “Babe, I’m gonna go hug your mom back to life. I’ll be right back. Cool?” 

“Cool.” 

Eddie pats her knee and she sits back to watch as he drops to the floor on his knees, crawling around crayons and gel pens and markers to your side. You laugh, flinching as his hand lands on your stomach, but he’s not there to tickle you. He holds your face in the other hand, really holds it, bending time. The mental snapshot he takes of you tired and lovely regardless can join an endless gallery. 

“You’re beautiful,” he says. 

“So are you.” 

“You want some help getting up?” he asks. 

You nod your affirmation. Eddie slides his hands under your arms, murmurs a too tender, “I got you,” as you sit up. He stands and pulls you with him, half drags your tired limbs to the couch where your girl is still sitting patiently. 

He puts you down. Kisses your cheek, throws a blanket across your knees. He picks Junie up to sit where she’d been in the corner and promptly settles with her on his thigh, the other arm open. 

“We’re napping?” Junie asks. 

“Would that be okay?” Eddie asks. “Mom’s tired.” 

“I’m not tired,” Junie says. 

“I know, baby, me neither. I was thinking we’d just lay here and hug mommy for a while, and then we’d have lunch.” 

“I don’t need a nap,” you say, though your eyes are heavy, darting to the empty place in his arms carved out especially for you. 

“Then just hug me,” Eddie whispers. Commanding, disbelieving, he knows you’ll be dozing in five minutes or less. All you need is a little light goading. 

You lay against his side. Junie wiggles to be on her front, chest to chest with Eddie as he sinks down. He kicks up his legs beside you, the three of you collapsing inward, his favourite girls in the world. 

There’s argument on if you can choose your family or not. Eddie doesn’t remember choosing you, just suddenly knowing you, and ever so slowly loving. He loves your face, your arms, the way you breathe. He loves how you turn into his chest and how you seem thrilled to be there, your hand coasting a loving line across him, fingers pressing into his stomach. It’s like you’re waving on his skin. He has no idea where you learned how to touch someone with that much love, but he leans down to kiss the skin just shy of your hairline so you know he feels it. 

Junie’s all little legs and sweetness as she yawns on his shoulder. “Mom, can I have some… some blanky?”

You pull it off your legs to cover hers. Eddie squares it up. Everyone covered, he lets his head tip back against the couch.

He’s not tired. He doesn’t think he’ll sleep. You fall asleep first in a slow series of exhales he knows well, that deepening, your fingers growing still against his t-shirt. 

Junie goes second. She squirms at first, not wanting to give in, but Eddie’s getting better at his dad-pats. He finds the space on her lower back, her off button ever since he’s known her, and he taps his hand against it until she’s breathing heavily against his neck. 

“Eddie?” she asks tiredly. 

“What, rockstar?” 

“Goodnight.” 

He scratches her back lightly. “Goodnight, sweetheart. Do you need me to take you to bed?” 

“No. We can sleep on you.” 

“Who should I sleep on?” he whispers. 

She shakes her head. Unhappy with his question, or maybe her nose is itchy. She falls asleep with her face pressed to his chest a few seconds later, leaving Eddie awake and unsure of what to do now. He trapped himself. 

He can’t find it in himself to mind, worried first about boredom, and then struck with a realisation. How could he ever be bored with you under his arm? 

He has time now to trace your nose, count your eyelashes, whatever he likes. 

“Love you,” he says, pressing his nose to your head. 

It takes a few seconds. “Love you,” you murmur. 

He rubs your arm until you’re sleeping again. It was selfish of him to wake you, but he’d wanted to hear it.

[cinematicreid]

for a moment

the one where Spencer reminds reader to slow down.

wc 651

warnings + the rundown: bau!reader, fluff, soft!spencer, i love him, literally can’t live without him, what a sweetheart, mentions of reader getting shot, but nothing explicit, feelings!, yikes!

a/n: can’t beat short and sweet and cutesy. feedback always welcome, come say hi to me i think you’re all so cool!

~

Spencer’s eyes may as well have laser beams shooting out of them with the way his gaze is glued to you. You attempt to focus on the task at hand, securing the Kevlar vest to the upper half of your body and completely ignoring him. But this has been happening for almost two months, ever since your incident, and you can’t take it anymore.

“Give it a rest, Spencer, you’re driving me crazy.”

“I know! I’m sorry, just — will you please let me —”

You let out a huff of exasperation, giving up.

“For fuck’s sake,” you mumble, and then more loudly, “Fine.”

Your hands fall to your sides in surrender as he quickly moves toward you and reaches for the vest’s fasteners.

A child. He’s making you feel like a child.

You hear Morgan chuckle from the other end of the police precinct’s tiny conference room, as if he can read your thoughts. You’re about to shoot him a death glare when you’re interrupted by Spencer sharply tugging a strap too tight.

“Reid,” you hiss.

“Don’t start,” he interjects over your complaint.

The incident in question was, of course, an accident. It wasn’t like you had intentionally put your vest on in a rush. There just hadn’t been enough time (which was not a proper excuse, as Hotch had gently but firmly reminded you later), and the loosened straps meant the vest moved around more than it should have when you were running, and the UnSub’s bullet found your side all too easy to graze.

It was stupid, really, but it was one time and nearly two months ago.

None of this was enough to ease the seemingly permanent furrow in Spencer’s brow.

It started as small, albeit irritating, reminders to double-check your vest, which you initially laughed off. But it had now escalated to taking the task entirely off your hands.

Spencer finishes with a final tug.

“Happy?” you ask him flatly. He lifts his concentrated gaze to meet your annoyed one.

“I could do without the sass. But yes,” he says, his shoulders visibly lighter and more content.

“It’s like watching a dad get his daughter ready for Take Your Kid To Work Day,” Morgan teases, rushing out of the room before you can hit him with the closest object at your disposal and leaving just you and Spencer. He rolls his eyes at the poor joke and gently takes said object from your hand.

“I don’t think a pen is going to do much damage,” he says. He loosens a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

You regard him for a few seconds, a small part of you melting at the undeniable softness in his eyes, which are so vast and deep you could stay there forever.

You get it.

It’s the thing about this job. How it forces an eternity to become temporary. How, in 20 minutes, you’ll be hunting down the bad guy but for now, what can feel like forever if you wanted, you’re only here with Spencer.

It’s all fleeting. Your little “incident” had only served as a reminder of that.

And so, Spencer had to take care of you in this way. You both knew that.

“You don’t need to be,” you offer him. He avoids your gaze and you nudge his shoulder with your hand. “Spencer, I’m here, yeah?” That earns you a gentle nudge back and the hint of a smile.

“I know. I’m here, too.”

And here is everywhere and nowhere and, perhaps most importantly, together. A beat, or maybe a forever passes before he speaks again.

“If this were Take Your Kid To Work Day I’d be the worst father in the world.”

Just like that, he’s back and you’re back with him.

Fleeting.

“I am so getting him back for that,” you mumble, making your way to the door. Spencer’s laugh as he follows behind you is all you can hear.

[badkitty3000]

can u write a five x reader smut where five makes the reader watch him jerk off before fucking them

This request has been in my inbox for a LONG time...sorry. I set this during season four, and it's mixed with my usual sense of humor and confidently sexy Five 😉

Forced Confinement: Friends to Enemies to Lovers

Five x Female Reader-Insert, 5.7k words, one-shot, reader request

Warnings: Smut, explicit sex, masturbation

Summary: You and Five used to be friends. That is, until he got you stuck in the endless cycle of time traveling trains and no way home. Now he is the last person you want to be stuck with at the end of the world. But, after months of resentment and bickering, you and Five finally work out your differences

It had been eleven months. Eleven months since you and Five had taken that stupid fucking train to nowhere. Why you had let him talk you into going with him, you had no idea. You had been friends and you trusted him, sure, but that didn’t mean you wanted to skip out on the real world forever and live in captive domesticity for the rest of your life. You had wanted adventure and danger, which always seemed to follow Five wherever he went. But that’s not what this turned into. This had turned into playing house.

After nine months of mindless travel to various timelines that just seemed to get worse and worse, you were about ready to kill one another. The passive aggressive arguing had gradually turned into bickering, which then turned into outright shouting matches. You wanted to go home, god dammit! You didn’t care that time travel was tricky or unpredictable. He had gotten you into this mess and you demanded that he get you out of it.

To get you to shut up, Five had presented you with a temporary solution. When you came across a mostly still standing house with a greenhouse and clean water, he begrudgingly suggested that you two stay there for a few days. Just to relax, wash up a bit, and gather some food. It would also grant him some time to think about how to navigate this situation you were in. You had agreed, although you had scoped the crappy house out first to determine if there were separate living quarters. There was only one real bedroom, but Five conceded it to you and said he would take the living room floor.

A few days had turned into two months.

You knew he was trying his best. You knew that. And you knew he certainly had never meant to get you stuck in this endless loop of time travel fuckery. He had only been trying to save the world. Again. Only this time, he wanted company. And since you and he had become friends over the course of the five years you had been serving him large quantities of whiskey and beer at your bar, he had asked you.

It’s not that you were best buddies or anything. You had never hung out outside of the bar. But he was a frequent enough customer that you and he had a good rapport. You were comfortable around each other, which you had noticed for Five, was kind of a big deal. And maybe you were a little flirty with one another as well. Not that anything had ever happened between you, but the tension had been there.

So, when Five had come stumbling in one night, seemingly already drunk, and had plopped down on a barstool in front of you with a smart-ass grin on his face, you were intrigued. After a very confusing and convoluted story about something called “marigold” and Five having the power to teleport and time travel, you were already hooked.

How many times had you dreamed of doing something amazing? Something so incredibly exciting and weird that when you told your friends all about it later, they wouldn’t believe you? It was just one of those silly fantasies that never left your head. But the longer you ran that bar, and the more comfortable you got pouring shots and mixing drinks for others, the less likely it became that your fantasy would ever be realized.

But time traveling subway trains and teleportation powers? It was everything you had been waiting for! When he told you his idea of trying to get to the correct timeline and stop another apocalypse from happening, you barely even hesitated.

In those first couple of months, you didn’t really mind being lost with no real way to get back home. It was still exciting and you were getting along great back then. He confided in you; told you he had asked you along because you were his only real friend and he just didn’t want to face the unknown alone again. He had apologized when it became clear he was just as lost as you were, and he promised to get you back safely. You made each other laugh, and invented stupid games to kill the boredom, and would cuddle up together on cold nights even though there was nothing romantic going on. Those were the good times.

But now…now, it was like the two of you were living in some bad sitcom with no laugh track. Five was still good looking, there was no getting around that. Even when he was grubby and dirty and his deodorant gave out months ago. Yes, he was hot, you could admit that. But that wasn’t quite enough to cover the fact that he was an arrogant, know-it-all asshole that was systematically ruining your life. You missed your bed. And your bar. And god, what you wouldn’t do for some fucking fast food. You had dreams about McDonald’s French fries and if Ronald McDonald himself had come walking up to you and told you he’d give you a Big Mac if you sucked his dick, you’d be on your knees in a second. That’s what this had come to; you would blow a clown for a hamburger.

Instead, here you were, in some bullshit little Hobbit house, listening to Five’s snoring from the other room. And if you had to eat another fucking strawberry, you were going to vomit. You would rather eat a dozen half-cooked subway rats than choke down another one of those god damn red berries. Sometimes you laid awake at night, envisioning Five choking on one, his eyes bulging as he panicked and tried unsuccessfully to get air through his blocked trachea. It brought a small amount of comfort to you. Until the morning, when you walked out and saw there were no animals in your traps, and you wanted to cry. No meat. Only fucking strawberries.

“We need more water,” you told him as you came out of the green house where the first few sprouts of cucumbers and green beans were finally starting to come through.

“So? Go get some, then,” Five muttered back at you, his head buried in a notebook while he sat at the wobbly kitchen table.

“No. I’m always the one that has to go get the water. It’s your turn.”

Five glanced up briefly, then looked back down at his incoherent scribblings. “I’m busy.”

“You’re busy?” you asked incredulously. “How the fuck is making little pictures in a book busy?”

He looked up again, his worn-down pencil paused in midair. His eyes narrowed. “They are not little pictures. They are complex mathematical equations that your simpleton mind cannot possibly understand.”

You snorted. “Fuck you.”

One corner of his mouth turned up just slightly and he set his pencil down, leaning back in his chair and draping one arm over the back. Fuck, if he didn’t look amazingly hot like that. Asshole.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

He scoffed. “Don’t play dumb. You’ve been eye-fucking me since we got here. Actually, since before we got here.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “What the…are you delusional? Did you hit your head the last time you were out scavenging? I have, under no circumstances, been eye-fucking you.”

“Ok, sure…whatever you have to tell yourself.”

You placed a hand on your hip and tilted your head to the side. “If anyone is eye-fucking anyone, it’s you to me. I see the way you just so happen to look in my direction when I’m changing clothes.”

“If I do that, it’s only because I want to make sure you’re actually changing into something new instead of wearing that shitty old tank top that smells like dead rats.”

“That is my best tank top! And look who’s talking. Who wears a suit in a fucking apocalypse? It’s insane!”

“At least I don’t walk around with my tits half hanging out. I mean, fuck, those things are going to knock you out the next time you have to run from anything. It’s like you’re just begging for attention.”

You smiled. “Oh, I just bet you’d love to see me running with my tits hanging out, wouldn’t you? Probably play right into some weird-ass Baywatch fantasy you have.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart.” He tossed his head so that the piece of hair in his eyes flicked out of the way. “You are wearing the literal last pair of tits in the world right now and I wouldn’t care if you slathered them in baby oil and shoved them in my face.”

You watched as his eyes moved briefly to your chest before landing on your face again. You smirked. “Gosh, Five, you’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course you don’t want anything do with these.” You ran your hands up your sides and rested them on your breasts. Then you began to rub them and squeeze them together, all while looking him directly in the eye. You gave a little moan and licked your lips. It was subtle, but you saw him swallow and shift in his seat.

Five rolled his eyes, but you could tell you had gotten to him. “While the tits themselves may be alluring, there is the unfortunate fact that they are attached to the body that is powered by your idiot brain. Therefore…not interested.”

You gave them another hard push together, and then let out a short laugh before dropping your hands. “That’s what I thought.”

“What did you think?”

“That you’re a dickless asshole”

Five flashed you that devious smile that you had come to associate with an unfortunate fluttering inside your stomach. “I’ll concede to being an asshole. But dickless? Quite the opposite, sweetheart.”

Your mouth went dry at that implication and you momentarily had a loss for words. After a couple of seconds, though, you regained your cool.

“As much as I’m sure you’d just love to whip out your little pickle dick right now, how about you get your scrawny ass up and go get us some water? Sweetheart.”

Five gave a short laugh. “And as much as I’m sure you’d love to be choking on my pickle right now, like I told you…” He pointed his pencil at the notebook. “I’m busy.”

Without another word, he lowered his head and started scribbling again, ignoring you completely. Your mouth opened in another retaliation, but then it snapped closed again. There was no point in continuing your little childish spat. Five was a stubborn old bastard and it was a waste of time. You might as well go get the damn water yourself.

Giving a loud, dramatic huff, you flipped your hair over your shoulder and stomped away. You did happen to notice, though, that Five looked up to watch you leave. So, as a final act of brattiness, just before you were out of sight, you made sure to bend over and act like you were tying your shoe while wiggling your ass in the air. Which, if Five had the oversized brain he was always saying he did, he would remember that your shoelaces had disintegrated a month ago.

As you angrily made your way to the old well that was your water source, you mumbled out loud to yourself.

“He thinks he’s so fucking smart. Well, he’s not. Just because you’re a smoking hot asshole does not mean you’re a genius, I guarantee you.”

You tripped over a rock and you cursed before continuing on. “And he is dreaming if he thinks I’m the one that wants to fuck him. Granted, it has been a long time since I got laid, but still. I think I can do better than Five Hargreeves, even if he is the last man on earth.”

You approached the old-fashioned well pump that was still in service and started pumping, much more vigorously than needed while you ranted to no one. “Honestly, he is so hard up for some ass, it’s embarrassingly obvious. But, good luck buddy, because that ain’t happening.”

You watched thoughtfully as the water slowly poured into the plastic bucket that served as your portable water reservoir. You stared into the distance; the landscape not quite as bleak as the others you had seen. This one at least had some trees and wildlife. “Still…I did see him shirtless that one time and I can’t seem to get that little image out of my brain. The guy has sex appeal, there’s no doubt about that. And I suppose he’s not all bad. He did let me take the bed, after all. He hasn’t even tried anything, either, which I suppose makes him kind of a gentleman.”

You gave the well a few more pumps to fill the last of the bucket. “But why hasn’t he tried anything? Maybe he doesn’t think I’m attractive? He said he likes women, though. I wonder if he jerks off when I’m not around?”

You smiled to yourself, feeling your chest tighten a little at the thought. “I guess I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t used him as motivation for my own hand-fucking. He might be annoying but I bet he can deliver in certain areas.” You paused a moment more and sighed angrily, looking toward the sky. “Damn it…now I’m horny!” The water started overflowing in the bucket and you realized you’d been pumping the well for too long, wasting your most precious resource.

“Shit!” You stared at the dusty ground that was now turning into a muddy puddle around your feet. “He doesn’t need to know about this, that’s for sure. I don’t need yet another lecture on water preservation.”

Hoisting up the bucket, and holding it against your chest because the handle had given out a week ago, you started back towards the house.

“I’m going insane,” you panted as you made your way up the slight incline. “It’s official; I’ve finally lost it. Stuck out here in the middle of nowhere and talking to myself. Cool.”

As you walked into the house, the water bucket was partially obstructing your view and it sloshed water down your front as you set it heavily down on the floor.

“There,” you declared, out of breath. “Here’s the water, no thanks to – Oh holy shit!”

When you had looked up, you had been assaulted with the sight of Five pleasuring himself right there in your cozy kitchen. You froze, taking in the sight, not able to look away. He was on full display, with the chair pushed out from the table, facing the doorway. His shirt was open, sleeves cuffed up, head thrown back, eyes closed, pants undone, and his cock in his hand. He was languidly stroking himself, appearing to not be in a hurry to finish the job, while he sat there with his legs spread open for all to see. Well, not all to see…just you.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry…shit…what are you? Ok, never mind, um…I’m gonna, yeah, just go…” you stammered while still staring directly at the obscenity before you.

You said you were going to go, but you were rooted to the spot. Eventually, after what seemed like an inordinate amount of time considering what was happening, Five opened his eyes and looked at you. No, not looked. Stared at you. Those bright green eyes bored into you and a small smirk played on his lips.

Still panicking, but also confused as to the very real sensation of moisture not caused by the bucket of water forming between your legs, you abruptly turned to leave.

“Stop.”

Five’s voice was different than usual. Harder. Commanding. And you inexplicably stopped in your tracks.

“Turn around.”

You obeyed and slowly spun around, nervous as to what you might see, or have him see. You were sure the look on your face would give you away.

Five hadn’t moved. He was still stroking himself and he looked like he didn’t have one ounce of shame about it, either.

You swallowed hard. “What…”

“I decided after your little show earlier that I just couldn’t help myself. And now that you’ve got some wet t-shirt action going on, I’m going to need you to stay. I think you owe me that.”

Looking down at yourself, you saw that the spilled water had created a nearly see-through situation over your chest. Even your bra was soaked through, and your nipples were visible through the thin fabric. When you glanced back up, you bit at your lower lip. Despite the blush growing across your cheeks, you were intrigued with this new game.

“Owe you?” you asked, your voice cracking as you tried to keep your cool.

Five groaned quietly, picking up his pace and ignoring your question. “You really do have magnificent tits. Now, take that ratty ass top off.”

You couldn’t believe you were actually going along with his demands. You should be telling him to fuck off and throwing the nearest heavy object toward his head. Instead, you found yourself holding his eye contact while you slowly stripped your wet shirt away and dropped it onto the floor.

There was another deep moan from Five as he worked his shaft over with his whole hand, his breathing becoming louder.

“Bra,” he rasped.

As you unhooked your bra and let it fall on top of your shirt, you smiled at his reaction.

“Fuck honey…I’ve been dreaming about these tits for so long and they do not disappoint.” He groaned low in his throat again. “Perfect.”

You eyed him up and down, taking in the detail of his cock as his fist slid easily over it. It was most definitely impressive. Much more than you had imagined and you found yourself running your tongue over your bottom lip involuntarily.

“Shit, Five…I guess you weren’t kidding. Definitely not dickless.”

“You like what you see?” he asked, looking out under the pieces of hair that had flopped in front of his eyes.

You nodded, and then began to move closer in. “Yeah, I do.”

Five shook his head, pausing his fist fucking momentarily. “I don’t think so, honey. Not yet.”

“Not yet what?” you asked, thoroughly confused. Did he not want you to jump on top of him?

“I know you’re just dying for my cock to be buried deep inside you right now, but you’re going to have to wait. That’s your punishment.”

With your eyebrows drawn together, you suddenly felt very stupid standing there topless while he continued to jack off.

“What the hell…what do you mean? Punishment for what?”

“For walking around all bitchy and complaining about everything. All while throwing your body in my face and leaving me high and dry.”

“What!? You’re the one that has been the asshole –”

“Shut up, sweetheart. I don’t need to hear your mouth. I just need to look at you. Now drop your pants.”

It took a minute for your mind to comprehend just what the fuck was going on here. Five Hargreeves, your friend turned enemy turned…jack off partner?...was ordering you around like you were his own personal interactive porno mag. And you fucking liked it.

As you started unbuttoning your shorts, you gave him a lopsided smile. “So, how long have you been using me as your whack-a-thon inspiration?”

“I could ask you the same,” he snarked back before working just a little harder when your pants came off.

“Since about 3 months in,” you admitted with a shrug, pushing your panties all of the way off.

“Fuuuck,” Five groaned loudly, closing his eyes briefly before scanning your body hungrily. “I think I lasted 2 weeks.”

You laughed, leaning back against the table with your hands behind you as you pushed out your chest. When your eyes caught his again, you let out a soft whimper.

“Damnit…I really want to fuck you right now.”

“I know, darling,” he responded, his voice dripping with condescension. “You’ve made that quite obvious.”

Neither of you said anything more for a moment. The room was filled with the sound of your collective heavy breathing and the slapping noises as Five jacked himself hard and fast. You could see the beads of pre-cum forming around the head. On a whim, you decided to lean in, bending down with your mouth open and tongue out, to daintily lick up the tempting drops. Five growled and flung his head back again while you gave one more flick of your tongue over the slit and backed away again.

“Finger yourself,” he grunted out.

When you smirked, licking all four of your fingers before lowering them between your legs, the sound Five made, a shaking, guttural sound, had you thinking he was on the verge of blowing his load. But he only seemed to concentrate harder, working his fist over his thick shaft. You watched as his thumb traced the underside of his swollen tip, the veins that ran from top to bottom prominently on display. You had never really thought the sight of a man pleasuring himself in front of you would be that hot, but the wetness dripping out of you right now proved that maybe it just depended on the man.

Because watching Five unabashedly fuck himself; his left hand tight around his cock and his hips jerking up in response; the tendons in his forearm taught and straining; his hair hanging messily around his face, his eyes never leaving yours; had you more worked up than you had ever been in your life.

“Fuck, Five,” you moaned as your own hand began to move through your slick folds.

“Damn it, I’m going to come. On your knees,” he growled through clenched teeth.

You dropped down without a second thought, just blindly following his orders. Your hand was still working furiously, and you were unsure if he wanted you to suck his dick or not, so you just waited for further instructions. When he groaned loudly and shifted forward in the chair, his own hand moving fast, you realized what he was going to do.

“Don’t you dare come on my face,” you rasped out. You removed your fingers from yourself so that you could lean back, exposing your chest at a better angle.

With a strangled moan that sounded like some sort of wounded animal, Five bit at his bottom lip while he came; long ropes of cum covering your chest and dripping down your stomach as he unloaded onto you again and again. You watched his face as it contorted in orgasmic bliss before finally relaxing again, his hand slowing, and his body easing back into the chair.

“Fucking hell,” he whispered through heaving breaths; eyes still closed. “You have no idea how much I needed that.”

As you knelt before him, covered in his semen, and still horny, you frowned. “Good for you.”

When he opened his eyes, he had the nerve to laugh and he shook his head. “Give me a minute, ok? I might have a fairly quick refractory period, but it’s not immediate.”

“Hmm, yeah. Likely story,” you said under your breath, although your mouth twitched up with amusement as you stood up. “I’m going to use our most precious resource to wash up.”

“Use it sparingly,” Five reminded you.

“I think I’ll use as much as I want, considering it’s your cum that’s currently drying all over my tits right now.”

“Fair,” Five said with a breathy laugh.

After you found one of the clean rags that doubled as a washcloth, you dipped it in the bucket of cool water and started to wipe at your chest. Five watched you bend over, ringing out the cloth and letting the water run down your breasts and abdomen. His refractory period may not have been instant, but watching you like that was most definitely speeding the process along.

While you were enjoying giving him this show, what you really wanted was a little more satisfaction than just watching him jerking off. With your body as cum-free as it was going to be for the moment, you sauntered back over to Five who was still sitting in the same chair; pants open and semi-hard dick out. When you stood in front of him, he looked up at you through the fringe of hair covering his eyes, that damn smirk of his playing on his lips. Without even thinking, you hauled your right hand back and smacked him across the face.

As he raised a hand to his stinging cheek, he glared up at you. “What the hell was that for?”

With a smile, you straddled his lap, draping both arms over his shoulders and leaning in to kiss him. After biting at his bottom lip, you pulled back.

“That was for stranding me here in this hell hole.” You kissed him again, tugging hard at his hair at the back of his head. “And for being the world’s biggest prick.” Your groin slid over his hard cock and he grunted. “And for looking so fucking hot all the time.”

Five grabbed your chin in his hand, holding you steady as he gazed into your eyes; his deep green ones sparkling as that arrogant look crossed his face again. Gripping your ass tightly with both hands, Five stood up, taking you with him as he slammed your body down onto the rickety kitchen table. When your back hit the wooden top with a thud, the pedestal holding it up wobbled dangerously underneath. You huffed out a loud breath from the impact.

Standing between your legs that were still wrapped around his waist, Five reached down between you, grasping his hard cock and rubbing the tip against your clit. When you gave a tiny whimper, he nodded.

“I’m sorry I got you stuck here. And I’m working on being less of a prick. As for looking hot all the time? That I can’t help so much,” he said with a grin, continuing to massage your slit by running his dick up and down, spreading your wetness over both of you.

“Asshole,” you rasped after sucking in a loud gulp of air. Your hands clutched at the edge of the table and your hips rocked against him.

He shook his head, closing his eyes with a moan before locking onto yours again. “No. If I were an asshole, I would have done what I’ve been dying to do for months now.”

“Which is?”

“Sliding into bed with you in the middle of the night and waking you up with my dick shoved between your legs.”

Your head tipped back as you tried to push yourself harder into his cock that was continually sliding over you in just the right spot. “Oh shit, Five…I wish you would have.”

“You’d like that, huh?”

You nodded. “I’d still have kicked your ass, but not before I’d let you fuck my brains out.”

“How about I fuck your brains out now and we can discuss kicking my ass later?”

“Sounds good,” you breathed out.

Five used his hand to guide himself inside of you. Once the head of his cock was inside, he thrust himself into you, impaling you on his sizeable dick, and watching your face for your reaction.

“Oh god…” you cried, gritting your teeth against the intensity.

“You ok?” he asked as his hands traveled over your thighs, sides, and hips.

You nodded. “Yeah. Definitely ok. Fuck, that feels good.”

With a self-satisfied smirk, Five grabbed your ass tightly with both hands, squeezing each cheek hard and digging his fingers into your flesh. When he started to guide you by pushing and pulling you over his shaft, you let him take full control of your body. With your arms splayed to the sides and your head tipped back against the table top, you wanted him to break you down; strip you of your inhibitions, and make you his.

“Shit…” he hissed through his teeth. “I need…fuck…I need more of you.”

Without warning or consent, he pulled you roughly up by one hand before pulling out of you and yanking you off the table to standing again. Not sure what his game plan was, you just stood there until he stepped out of his pants that had dropped around his ankles, and held you tightly to him. With a long kiss that made you momentarily forget where you were, he pulled back again.

“Floor,” he gasped.

Despite having a perfectly good bed in the other room, you were thinking the same thing he was. There was no time for relocation. You needed him inside of you again. Immediately. Hands clutching at one another, you both clumsily dropped to the floor. There was a moment of ungraceful maneuvering while you hastily repositioned yourself, but once Five was on his back and you were mounting him again, his dick slid inside once more and you let out a high-pitched whine.

In between grunts and whimpers as you started to move your hips, you attacked his mouth, face, and neck with kisses. Eventually, one of his hands came to rest in your hair. When you looked him in the eyes, he was smiling. Not his normal, asshole smirk. An actual, affectionate smile.

“I’m not sure why we waited this long,” he said before kissing you deeply, while also bucking his hips up, driving his dick in harder.

“Because we hated one another,” you explained as he sucked kisses onto your neck.

“Not always…fuuckk…” he moaned when you slammed harder on top of him.

“I kind of don’t hate you now.”

Five laughed and squeezed one of your breasts in his hand, hard enough to make you hiss through your teeth.

“Five….” you whined.

“Keep fucking me, baby. Harder.”

You were fucking him as hard as you possibly could. So hard that you were seriously concerned about the health of your knees as they bore most of your weight and dug into the hard dirt floor of your crappy kitchen. But that didn’t stop you. Riding his dick like it was somehow essential to your existence, you had never wanted anyone more than you did right then. You couldn’t control the loud cries and broken sobs that filled the small kitchen, and Five wasn’t exactly being quiet either.

“Oh shit, honey…please keep doing that…I’ve wanted this so badly.”

After one more long kiss, you could feel your body start to reach its climax. As Five grasped your hips again, working you over even faster, you let yourself go with a broken moan that got louder the more your body reacted to his. With your back arched, head tipped back, and your hips twitching wildly, Five clenched his teeth and looked down between your bodies. He could see the white lather of your arousal coating his cock. With a husky growl, Five pushed you down and came inside you.

Gasping for air, you collapsed into him, chests heaving against one another. He held you loosely, his hands idly caressing your back and hair.

“Five?” you panted; nuzzling your nose and mouth into the side of his sweat-damp neck.

“Yeah?”

“If you had been fucking me like that this whole time, these last several months could have been much more enjoyable.”

He let out a breathy laugh. “If I were more confident in my time travel skills, I would go back and remedy that.”

As your playful kisses traveled over his neck and cheek, you gave him one last, deep kiss on his mouth before pulling back again. You stared deeply into his eyes that you only just now realized were so easy to get lost in.

Moving a stray piece of hair from his forehead, you smiled sweetly. “While I definitely would not mind more of your amazing dick action, I am going to murder you if I have to spend one more day in this strawberry hellhole.”

Five matched your snarky grin with his own, and smacked your ass swiftly. “Off.”

Rolling your eyes, but not able to hide the blush that dusted your cheeks again when he took that tone with you, you unfurled yourself from his body and stood up. Offering a hand out, you helped Five to his feet.

“While the thought crossed my mind to leave you in the dark just so I can get some more action, I don’t have the heart. Look,” he said as he pointed to his notebook that had just recently been pinned under your body on the table.

When you looked closer at his illegible scrawls, you frowned. “I don’t get it.”

“I did it.”

You looked back over at him with raised eyebrows. “Did what?”

“Found our way home. While you were out getting water, I figured it out.”

As the realization of what he was saying washed over you, you shrieked and threw your arms around his shoulders, pulling his damp, naked body into yours. “Five! Oh my god, you did it! We can go home?”

He nodded, a giant smile growing over his face. “I think so. And I think I figured it out so that we will have time to stop the whole mess that was starting to go down before we left, too. I think we can save the world.”

“Oh my god! This is amazing!” You pulled him tighter and kissed him hard on the lips, still smiling. “Five, you’re amazing!” Then a thought came to you and you tilted your head to the side. “Hang on…if you figured this out while I was out getting water…were you really jerking off to thoughts of me, or just your own mathematical genius?”

Five shrugged with that sexy, lopsided smile of his. “Can’t it be a little of both?”

“Holy shit,” you laughed. “Let’s get the fuck out of here and go home.”

Five pulled you close with a jerk, his arm around your waist and his hand resting securely on the small of your back. With a look that made your heart flip in your chest and your knees weak and wobbly, Five leaned in to kiss you, biting gently at your lips before pulling away and rubbing his cheek across yours.

“Why leave now? We have all the time in the world and things were just getting good,” he said, his voice low and smooth; the rush of his hot breath down your neck sending shivers down your spine.

“Ok,” you breathed out before tipping your head back so he could access your neck. “What’s a few more days?”

[ariannag6-blog]

Nanami in bed 18+ MNDI

3k words. Female reader.

Spoiler he’s a simp for poc women

All nanami stories by me will be under the hashtag NanamiAria

Soft dom Nanami

Nanami would be a soft dom. Loves giving you lots of prep for him. Lots of sushing. Sushing if you squirm too much. Sushing if you become overstimulated. He wants to be the one who does all the work. He doesn’t want you to move just stay still and take his gentle love making. He won’t let you lift a finger. If it becomes a bit too much he’ll gently push your limits staying in slightly longer each time to build your stamina. I see him as someone who can last a long time and like long sessions so he will try to slowly and gently build you up to his level.

Occasionally rough fucks you and degrades you slightly when you tease him too much or when he’s had an extra rough day at work. He prefers to be gentle but when you push his buttons too many times you’ll find yourself bent over his desk, dicked down with no preparation. Immediately after a rough session he’ll go back to being sweet. Leaving soft kisses over your whole body. Pulling you in for a hug or cuddles. Saying things like “are you alright love?, You’re perfect., I love you darling.”.

He likes being the provider the one to do all the work so he would prefer being with someone submissive in the bedroom. If you were a top he would let you grind on him a bit but after a few mines Kento would grab your hips, ending up taking charge, being the one bouncing you up and down on him. He’s never aggressive about needing to be the one in charge it’s just in his nature I don’t think he would even realize he’s like this often times.

Nanami experience level

Not that experienced probably has only been with three people tops. Probably hates casual sex or one night stands. Despite his low experience Kento fucks like he’s a porn star quite literally. He can last forever if he wants to, even cum on command. Always knows the right words to say to get you off too it’s like it was scripted but it wasn’t. Love making just comes naturally to him.

You’d think based on his professional quiet composure that he doesn’t think about sex often but that would be a lie. I think he’s quite hyper sexual. Though he would try to match whatever sex drive you had out of respect. To get off when he’s not in a relationship or when you’re not around I don’t see him being the type of guy to watch porn. I see him reading smutty novels. He honestly reads them quite often. As sort of a guilty pleasure. Thats probably where he learned his skills and pillow talk from.

Nanami’s taste in women

Everybody headcannons him as liking women of color. I 100% agree! He loves tan skin, olive skin, dark skin, dark hair, long hair, wavy hair, curly hair, braids, straight hair. Hispanic women, black women, Asian women, mixed women, he loves it all. He would be captivated by some woman that doesn’t look like the usual girl he sees walking around town. He’s never really liked a white girl before especially if they’re blonde because it reminds him too much of himself. He doesn’t realize this consciously he’s always just liked who he’s liked in his eyes. I see him getting turned on everytime you get a tan. Everytime he sees the contrast of your tan skin next to his pale tone. It makes him want to eat you quite literally. He’ll use any excuse he can to drag you down to the beach with him to see your skin glow and grow darker under the sun. Also as an excuse to see you in the new bikini he secretly bought for you. If his woman wore a bonnet he would find it adorable whenever you had one on. He would often buy you new ones that are the highest quality silk in your favorite colors to spoil you. He’s obsessed with dark hair. Doesn’t matter if it’s straight, curly, wavy, braided, coily. He loves it all. You’ll often times find Nanami sneaking up behind you to smell your hair or finding any excuse he can to run his fingers through your locks/touch your hair. He’s quite literally obsessed with all of you. If you were from a different culture he would get turned on everytime you cooked him meals that you grew up with or spoke your native language. He would learn how to speak your Native language secretly to surprise you. Especially as a cute way to propose and a sneaky way to spice up things the bedroom. He would do little things to learn more about your culture overtime to feel closer to you and get to know you better. I see him liking curves on your bottom half. Such as thick thighs, juicy bottom. Definitely more of an ass man. I don’t see him caring if someone has a big chest or not it’s just something that’s either there or isn’t. He’ll cherish whatever body shape you bless him with.

Body hair preferences.

He literally does not give a single fuck what you do with your body hair. He’s obsessed with you no matter what. Nothing will stop him from eating you out. Pubes. He loves you bald, trimmed, different patterns, landing strip, bush. He will love and cherish whatever you have whenever you have it simply because it’s you. Other body hair. He doesn’t care if you shave or not. I think he’d be used to someone who did shave their body hair but wouldn’t tell you what to do. Hes a grown man he doesn’t find body hair to make someone any more or less attractive. I do think he would probably be with someone who preferred to remove all their body hair and preferred him to have some specifically just because I see him being with someone more feminine and traditional. Traditional fem women seem like the type prefer those things at least to me.

For himself I see him having light chest hair and leaving it untouched. Lightly trimming his underarm hair. For his pubes I see him leaving them trimmed, preferring just a little something on his skin. If you asked otherwise for him to be bald or bush he would do whatever you asked to please you.

Nanami dad

Everyone headcannons him as wanting children but personally I would think he’d be scared of that. He would find children to be cute yes but at the end of the day he wouldn’t want his children growing up in a world they ultimately just have to work a stressful 9-5 and probably overtime in. He doesn’t like work he just does it because he has to. He knows he would have to work more if he had a kid and wouldn’t be able to spend the time he wanted with his family. He wouldn’t want to curse a kid with that life.

Regardless of kids he would ask you to quit your job and let him be the provider. He doesn’t want you to feel the same stress he does over work. I think pregnancy would worry him too much. He’d hate how hard it was on a woman’s body. He’d constantly think something bad would happen to you because he’d spend too much time on the internet trying to learn every possibility of something that could happen to stay ahead of it. I do think he has a kink for cuming inside you so he would most likely get a vasectomy so no accidents happen. If you really wanted children he would fuck you silly and remind you with his words how you wouldn’t be able to take him like this often if you were pregnant or busy with kids. When he’s finished with that he’ll buy you a cat instead to keep you occupied and hopefully for you not to ask again or he’ll buy another cat. I see him being a big cat person. Seeing you take care of the cats just doing simple things like that turns him on a lot.

Jealous Nanami

He tries not to be too possessive or jealous. He’s a grown man and understands a woman can live her own life, have her own friends, and what not. Though he tries his hardest to be good but he’s such a jealous man. He tries his best not to show his jealousy thinking it’ll turn you off. Not knowing that you’d actually love that side of him. Everytime you come back from an outing that he didn’t attend he missed your attention so much he’ll fuck you till your dick drunk off of him hoping you’ll feel so good and spoiled from him that you won’t leave again without him anytime soon. Any time you’re out together and a man looks at you he grips you tighter. It makes him want to take you to the nearest restroom, pin you up against the wall, fuck you passionately with love, while he begs you to tell him he’s the only man for you. He’s not insecure he knows you won’t leave or cheat. He also likes when men look at you he likes seeing their eyes shine at you then gaze up to him and realize they can’t have you. He still get’s so jealous from it though he can’t really understand why.

Nanami turn ons.

Doing domestic things turns him on a lot. Such as bringing him lunch, making him coffee,

cleaning, doing laundry. He likes it more than you wearing lingerie especially if you’re doing your chores wearing his shirt. Not that he thinks a woman has to do the domestic labor but he is old fashioned and traditional so he prefers traditional roles. He sees you doing these things as a sign of love and care. He also does the household duties when he has time off of work if there’s anything that needs to be done. Knowing you get to relax while he takes care of a household duty turns him on. You’ll often find him dragging you into the shower with him to fuck you silly when he’s finished mowing the lawn, or mopping the floors. He especially loves it when he comes home to find you doing something you love like cooking. When you’re cooking one of his favorite meals he’ll often eat you as the main course first as a way to say thank you for spoiling him.

He would never admit it but loves when you’re bratty on occasion because it gives him an excuse to bend you over his knee. He loves when you talk back without a care like you don’t know he’ll quickly put you in place. Nanami loves when your bratty self teases him while he’s at work. Weather it being you sending him pictures, videos, or you showing up and getting down on your knees under his desk toying with his waistband.

Husband Nanami

He loves being a husband. He would get married quickly. When he finds the right woman he doesn’t see the need to wait. He’s a hopeless romantic. Just being married turns him on. Knowing you have his last name, knowing he gets to take care of you from now on, it drives his mind wild. Anytime you casually call him husband or remind him that you’re his wife his member perks up instantly.

Nanami dirty talk

“Shh shh look at me love I have to break you in or you’ll never be able to take me. Just let it sit here I won’t thrust alright.

“Shh I told you to let me love”

“You’re so beautiful when I’m inside of you love. I always love how you let me take my time with you.”

“I’m so glad i met you. I feel so spoiled having such a sexy wife. Maybe i should spoil you with my tongue?”

“Shh hold still my love. Relax.”

“I love you darling. That’s right. I love it when it’s all the way inside your pretty walls”

“Yes that’s it love, let it out. Dont you dare hold back those moans from your husband.”

Kinks

I see him as old fashioned. Not super kinky. If being a care giver (not age play just like being the protector and provider) and a top in bed is a kink you can count that. Also finishing inside of you. Not sure if thats a kink but he has to finish inside of your pussy. He loves the feeling it gives both of you. On the rare occasions you last long enough for him to finish twice he’s in heaven. He’s obsessed with you being filled with him. He pulls back up your panties after and lifts up slightly to push his cum further inside you he doesn’t want anything dripping out of you. He wants it to sit inside of you for the rest of the day/night so that every time you feel filled you remember the sweet love he made to you. I see him enjoying spanking. Bending you over his knee when you’ve been bratty. Or slapping your ass while he fucks you from behind. Eyes winding and mouth watering with he sees you grow wet/wetter from his slaps. Aside from that I see him liking to use his tie to occasionally tie your hands behind your back. Mainly when you’ve been bratty and he wants to fuck you rough. Aside from that at most he would probably use a vibrator on you if you wanted/needed but would prefer to use himself.

Name calling

I don’t think he would be into much name calling. I mean maybe he would be into daddy or sir? Though I see him being softer I could see him having a darker side to him and liking it. But I think he would probably prefer you to names like; love, my darling, husband, baby, both in an out of bed. He would like calling you the same names in an out of bed as well.

Nanami receiving

He loves getting his dick sucked. Groaning at the sound of you lubing him up for your hole. He loves guiding your movements with his hands tangled in your lucious hair. Though he loves this he doesn’t like cuming in your mouth he prefers to cum down your cunny instead. He has a lot of stamina and control so he can prevent himself from cumming down your throat waiting until he uses your other hole.

Thats about the most receiving he likes the rest of the time he’d rather do all the work. Even though technically while you’re sucking him he still doing all the work by being the one to guide all your movements and telling you what to do.

Nanami moaning?

He’ll give soft grunts and moans occasionally. He’ll softly moan and grunt or pant heavily when he finishes inside you. He’s more of a talker than a moaner In my opinion. He loves whispering sweet things into your ears and sushing you quite often. He loves the sound of your moans he doesn’t Sush as a sign to be quiet but more as a sign to “take it” and also out of habit. He’s so used to saying “shh” he sort of does it out of instinct instead of moaning.

All nanami stories by me will be under the hashtag NanamiAria

[lodgersims]

As a Sims 2 player one of the most eerie things about playing the original game isn't necessarily the creepy/more liminal aesthetic or the repetitively endless gameplay, but the fact that almost all the pre-made Sims from the original game are inexorably doomed by the narrative.

There's something odd about Pleasantview specifically, where the majority of the returning Sim families live (save for Tara Kat, who seems... relatively fine). Like, the concept of the game is that twenty-five years have passed, and all of the returning characters are pre-baked into character arcs that communicate an unavoidable truth: You, the player, failed.

Bella Goth will disappear. Her brother (though in the original Sims we aren't aware that Michael Bachelor is her brother) will die, possibly murdered. Mortimer will be lost and alone. Cassandra will be stuck in an unloving engagement. The Newbie's daughter will be impoverished, a single mother whose husband died young, with two boys and another on the way. Daniel Pleasant will grow up to be a cheater. Jennifer Pleasant will never be an athlete like she wanted (her brother will). And though poor Johnny Burb never mentions Tucker anymore, you know that old dog died years ago. The Roomies, the Mashugas, the Hicks, the Charmings - all leave town... or worse, die out.

I think about Jeff Pleasant's bio in the first game: "Jeff and his family are new to the neighborhood. Can you help Jeff provide for his family and fulfill his lifelong goal of being the first man to walk on Mars?" And how it contrasts to Daniel's in the second: "Since his father Jeff died without achieving his dream of going to Mars, Daniel has felt an overwhelming guilt."

And sure, you can save the families of Pleasantview. You can choose for Mary-Sue to not go to work that day, or maybe Daniel never pursues Kaylynn Langerak again. You can give Cassandra a happy marriage, tame Don Lothario's womanizer ways. You can financially save Brandi Broke. You can get John Burb another dog. You can get Jennifer the career she always wanted. You can defy the scripted in-game prompts and say "No. I don't want to play like this." You can break the cycle, every time you play.

And yet, at the end of the day, no matter what you do... uninstalling the game and reinstalling it, maybe just deleting that Neighborhood folder, they are reset back to exactly where they were again. They're doomed to repeat it forever.

The game makes it clear that there are some things you aren't meant to change. A genie lamp or a Resurrect-O-Nomitron can bring back sims like Michael Bachelor, but you will pay for it in your neighborhood deteriorating to corruption. And no matter what you do, no force in the universe can bring Bella Goth back. The one in Strangetown isn't even really her, after all. And maybe she isn't. They say they deleted her in development, replaced her with a clone. Maybe that's what Bella Goth in Strangetown is. A clone. Maybe we were wrong, after all. Maybe she was never abducted by aliens. Maybe Don Lothario killed her. Maybe Dina Caliente killed her. Maybe Mortimer did. But you can't bring her back, no matter what you do. Recreate the original Bella, pixel by pixel, extract her data, make your zombie Bella. Build your own monster. Create a sim. But she will never recognize her family. Never see them as her own.

And she was never meant to.

[msschemmenti]

one year down, forever to go

emily prentiss x reader

monday morning guest— part two

a/n: i’m actually very surprised how much y’all enjoyed the first part of this because it was in fact a crack idea i came up with randomly !! but here’s a second part and i apologize if it sucks i really had no clue where this was going <3

a/n to the a/n: also my requests are open if y’all wanna request something :)

“you’re married?!” garcia was the first to exclaim and emily sighed in exasperation. she eyed her chosen family and knew she wasn’t getting out of answering this. at all. 

“Technically i’m divorced now.” emily grimaced as she watched garcia’s face contort further in confusion.

“How can this be? How did you get married and divorced within the hour? You know I thought we were done with secrets after you faked your death but i see I was wrong and you actually don’t love me.” garcia grumbled as she threw herself on the couch in disdain. 

“Uh- Penelope, this is not the same thing. I found out at the same time you did.” Emily scoffed as she ran a hand through her hair. She lowered herself behind her desk and made to pick up a file, hoping the team would take the hint. Wishful thinking.

“Oh no, none of that. Spill.” Tara grinned as she perched on the arm of the couch expectantly. Everyone follows her lead in getting comfortable. 

“Aren’t there some case files out there you should all be working on?” Emily groaned, nodding toward their desks in the bullpen. 

“Sure, but this is far more interesting.” JJ grinned with a shrug. 

“Yeah, if I recall correctly it was only a little while ago that you were hyperbolically recounting my wives. And low and behold, you’ve got a wife of your own.” Rossi goaded. 

“How many wives are you at?” Luke asked, easily distracted but ever happy to be included. 

“Not the point, Newbie. Stop distracting. We’re here to learn about Emily’s secret wife, not Rossi’s 6 wives.” Garcia chastised, turning everyone’s attention back to Emily. 

“God, I’m not getting out of this am I?” Emily asked, and when everyone shook their heads her shoulders slumped, and she accepted her fate. 

-

backpacking through Europe may have been her best idea yet, or so she thought at least. y/n didn’t seem to agree. they were nearing the end of their spring break and as beautiful and adventure filled as the days had been— the younger woman was ready to get to a hotel.

“em, if we take one more turn you’ll be carrying me back to civilization.” y/n groaned.

“back to civilization? there’s like 60 people hiking the same trail we’re on.” emily rolled her eyes.

“okay and? i haven’t seen a mall in days. i’m going through serious withdrawals.” y/n sighed as they did in fact take another turn.

“oh stop your whining, we’re almost at the hotel. i told you, we could spend half the trip backpacking and the other half in the lavish luxury you dream of so often.” emily smiled over her shoulder, reaching for y/n’s hand to pull her down the trail.

“i just don’t understand. your mother damn near begged us to use her hotel and resort recommendations and you want to be outside. in nature’s home. couldn’t have gotten that from your mom.” y/n lamented, putting up very little fight as emily guided her further through the park.

emily listened to her complain for most of the days they’d been out but she really couldn’t think of any other person she’d want with her. meeting y/n had been rather serendipitous. she’d just started her mastered at yale and moved into this astronomically expensive apartment in georgetown. and she was hell bent on supporting herself. so she’d found a restaurant looking for waitresses and put in an application. on her way out the hostess had changed and she’d rather dumbly stopped at the station with the application in her hand.

“hi?” the woman chuckled, eyeing the brunette curiously.

emily’s cheeks reddened under the woman’s gaze and she cleared her throat. “uh, hi. they told me to give my application to the hostess but i don’t see her anymore.”

the woman leaned against the hostess stand with a chuckle and reached her hand out to accept the paper. “that was nina, she works mornings. i’m the evening girl.”

emily nodded disjointedly and handed the application over, “morning girl is nina. so that makes you?”

the hostess grinned and leaned a bit further toward emily, “that makes me y/n,” y/n looked at the top of the application searching for a name. “emily.”

emily smiled and rubbed the back of her neck, “nice to meet you.”

y/n smirked as she eyed emily, “you’ve never had a job before have you?”

emily’s cheeks reddened instantly and she grimaced, “is it that obvious?”

“yeah sweet. it’s real obvious. but you’re cute, so i’ll put in a good word for you.” y/n shrugged and headed back through the restaurant with the application. emily’s cheeks felt like they were on fire but it only worsened when y/n sent a flirty wave over her shoulder before disappearing behind the bar.

and from that day on they’d been inseparable. y/n was working her way through law school and even after emily had been rightfully fired from the restaurant, y/n had become her favorite person. somewhere during the first year of them knowing each other they finally gave into the ever present flirtation and got together.

that’s how they ended up in europe anyway. emily was graduating in a few months and this was set to be her last big hurrah of freedom before diving head first into work. she’d sold y/n on the beauty of europe and also her company.

“i don’t know if i ever told you. but anytime mother and i were in france, i spent most of my time with my grandfather up in his cabin in the french alps. there was a 10-year stretch where he didn't come down off the mountain. he had no electricity, no running water, and his food supplies came from the land. those were some of my fondest memories.”

at emily’s explanation, y/n quieted a bit and leaned in to kiss her lips sweetly. “well i guess it’s not that bad then. as long as i can get you drunk tonight?”

“i guess. not like i can say no to you.”

“not like you ever have before. if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

and drunk they did get. so much so that they woke up with little to no memory of the night before. rings on fingers and heads pounding. they were married.

-

“So what, now you’re like Rossi? A profiler with a hot ex-wife?” Tara asked as Emily brought the story to a close. Emily glared at the woman but shrugged a little in defeat.

“well she didn’t seem too upset when she left. if anything she seemed eager for something…” spencer pointed out.

“that’s right boy genius, she thanked me. a scorned ex wife wouldn’t have done that!” garcia nodded frantically, pinning emily with a glare.

“well we are divorced. i signed the paper but while she’s in town, she’s agreed to let me make up for the twenty years of marriage i’ve missed out on.” emily replied, cheeks flushing as everyone cheered and whooped.

“when? where? what’s the plan?” garcia pestered.

“i don’t know penelope, she only just left. plus with our work load who knows when i’ll be able to actually take her out.”

garcia shook her head in determination, “mark my words, i will make sure this happens. i can smell a second wedding already.”

emily looked at the tech analyst in disbelief and jj seemed to get the hint. “alright cupid, let’s leave emily to ponder her date ideas.” emily gave jj a grateful look as she watched her corral everyone out of her office.

second wedding was a bit extreme but she really did hope between her and garcia’s wishful thinking that she’d be out with y/n very soon.

-

“took you long enough. i thought you might’ve changed your mind.” y/n grinned as the hostess brought her over to emily.

emily stood with a sheepish smile, it had been 3 weeks since y/n had popped back into her life and as much as she wanted to get their date on the books— serial killers really stopped at nothing. “trust me, if i’d had it my way we would’ve been doing this far sooner. but alas, serial killers don’t care about my social life.”

y/n laughed softly pulling emily into a hug, “well i’m glad you could pencil me in. between solving your murders and jetting all over the US.”

“you make it sound so glamorous.” emily chuckled, pulling the seat out for y/n and taking her own seat.

“well there is a sort of luxury involved with having a jet.” y/n replied with a shrug.

emily rolled her eyes affectionately, “sure, when you’re not on your way to a gruesome crime scene.”

“well you got me there, you always did have a stronger stomach than me when it came to all that criminal stuff.” y/n smiled as she pulled the menu open.

“you know me, compartmentalizing at its finest.” emily shrugged opening her own menu as well.

“ah ah ah, i was there when you invented that excuse. it didn’t work then and it won’t work now.” y/n tsked.

“you really haven’t changed.” emily smiled with a content sigh.

“you know what i always say, if it not broke—“ y/n started.

“don’t fix it.” emily finished just as the waitress returned to take their order. with orders placed, a bottle of wine poured they both settled into a familiar volley.

“so you seem to know everything that’s happened to me in the last twenty years but i’m a little in the dark.”

“well i only know what your mother knows, which im sure isn’t much considering it’s your mother. but i’ll bite. after you graduated, i finished out law school. i think by then you’d started you undercover work though. started working and haven’t stopped since.”

emily nodded, “right right, and you got engaged while you were married to me.”

y/n scoffed with a laugh, “hey! you’re one to talk, miss i had to be resurrected. my engagement— while short lived was a big mistake. i was young and tired of being alone. but as i said before finding out i was still married was the least of my worries then.”

emily nodded sadly, knowing the pressures of loneliness very well. “loneliness will do that. also can i just explain my whole death arc, so you’ll stop holding it against me?”

“absolutely, be my guest.”

“so there was this super evil guy, i went under and he kinda fell in love with me—“

“fell in love with my wife?”

“shh! yes unfortunately he did. well obviously he went down for his crimes but he escaped prison and came after my team. and he really wanted me dead and impaled me with a chair leg.”

“a chair leg?! you can’t be serious.”

“yes a chair leg, and he got away. so it wasn’t exactly safe for me to be living and that led to me faking my death. and spending my recovery alone in paris.” emily explained.

“well where the hell is he now?”

“dead. my team was very adamant about avenging my death.” emily smiled watching the younger woman nod in approval.

“good. nobody murders my wife and gets away with it.” y/n glared before winking over at emily.

both women talked over their food, flirting like old times, and really just enjoying each other’s company. once their plates had been cleared, a waitress brought out a slice of pie with the words “happy anniversary” drizzled across the plate.

“well well well, you weren’t kidding when you said you wanted to make up for those missed anniversaries.” y/n smiled, holding a spoonful of pie out for emily to eat. she accepted the offered sweet treat with a furious blush, but couldn’t help to think just how whipped she still was for this woman.

-

emily sighed happily, pulling y/n through the streets of dc. one of y/n hands was wrapped in her own while the other held a bouquet of flowers emily had purchased no their post-dinner walk. when they made it back to the parking lot, they reluctantly walked over to y/n’s car together.

y/n grinned as she leaned against the hood of her car, emily’s hand still in her own. she watched as a smile curled on emily’s lips and at the sight of that dimple y/n pulled her as close as she could out in the parking lot. “well em, i must say this was a rather enjoyable belated anniversary celebration. i can only think of one thing to make it perfect.”

“oh really, and what would that be? you know i’ve always strived for perfection.” emily asked, eyes flickering between y/n’s eyes and lips.

“you always were an overachiever. glad to see that’s still the same.” y/n grinned, pulled emily into a kiss that lit their bodies on fire. if there was one thing emily prentiss could do, the woman could kiss. and 20 years seemed to only add to her skills. y/n held out for as long as she could but when could feel her heartbeat in her ears she reluctantly pulled away to breathe. emily looked down at her smugly and pushed a lock of hair out of her face. boy did she miss that.

“next anniversary is on me?” y/n whispered against emily’s lips.

“well i sure like the sound of that.” emily agreed easily.

one anniversary down, only about 19 more to go.

[baddybaddyadardaddy]

Okay, I'm going to make a wild prediction about Adar and Galadriel in Episode 8, so strap in.

An overarching the/major motif of the Rings of Power from the very first episode has been, obviously, the interplay between darkness/light.

"To find the light, we must first touch the darkness." / "Before light, darkness must flee, etc."

Adar and Galadriel together are a manifestation of that duality between light and dark and accordingly, I think there's a compelling case for them to team up against Sauron at the end of Season 2.

Here's my attempt at this argument:

PARALLELS BETWEEN ADAR AND GALADRIEL

The show has established a few strong visual parallels between the two of them.

Mourning ritual. Galadriel mourning for Finrod in S1Ep1 is echoed by Adar's mourning of the Uruks in S2Ep7. They even mirror the single tear.

What's more, Galadriel bears WITNESS to Adar's funeral ritual, enforcing the connection of this moment.

Seed planting. Frankly, my jaw hit the floor when S2Ep2 had Galadriel planting seeds in the memorial garden in Lindon, because the shots/framing were almost IDENTICAL to the seed planting Adar does at the beginning of S1Ep6. The sentiments of both instances are the same "life over death," though the words do differ.

Flip sides of the same coin/mirror to one another. The show has also presented us with many instances where they function as mirrors to one another. If not signficant, why do?

Barn scene. The barn scene in S1Ep6 is a PRIME example, when Adar literally calls Galadriel out for the hypocrisy of her hatred of the orcs.

The dinner scene. Adar once again holds up a mirror to Galadriel, pushing back against her notion that "you yielded to him. I resisted." Then they have the shared acknowledgement that without Sauron, the world seems a "dull grey" (GREY, interestingly, a halfway point between dark and light). Adar's face in response to her admission will live rent-free in my mind forever-- it's like he's been SEEN for the first time in his life.

So while Galadriel sees herself as a warrior of light, and views Adar as a creature of darkness, the show does a pretty superb job of showing that both of these characters have light and dark within them in equal measure.

They were both tempted by Sauron and succumbed.

So there is a clear, thematic link between these two from that standpoint.

ADAR'S JOURNEY TOWARD THE LIGHT

Next, I think it is clear Adar on a path toward light/redemption as an elf, and it tracks in a VERY LITERAL SENSE.

First time we see Adar, he is bathed in an angelic light. As he performs the funeral ritual for Magrot, light streams into the Uruk tent.

The shot at the end of S2 Ep1, when the camera lingers on Adar as Gil-Galad's call to the Eldalie commences. Adar feels the undeniable call to his elven past. That camera shot was NOT A COINCIDENCE, and I'm FOREVER FERAL ABOUT IT.

Cavalry charge at the siege of Eregion. Adar is OBVIOUSLY backlit:

There is a dividing line between light and shadow an Adar is RIGHT on the border of it.

When he steps up to take possession of Nenya, the sky behind him is split between a darker side and a lighter side. (You can argue that it's a CREEPY light, but it's still light. There is almost no all-black coloring on him in that second frame when he actually has the ring. For a character that's been head to toe in black the entire series, this is Significant.)

So where does that leave us for the big Sauron smackdown?

My first wild prediction: In an INSANE reversal, Galadriel will be the one to bring Morgoth's dark crown to the confrontation, while Adar will wield Nenya, a symbol of light.

It's not inconceivable that Gal could have smuggled it out of Adar's camp somehow under her oversized Uruk cloak. And Adar, OBVIOUSLY now possesses Nenya at the end of S2Ep7.

I think the fight between Galadriel and Sauron is ACTUALLY a three-person fight; we just haven't seen Adar in the promos because

1. Obvious plot spoilers and

2. HE WILL BE FIGHTING IN A FAIR FORM BECAUSE NENYA WILL HEAL HIS CORRUPTION.

My second wild prediction: This three-person fight is telegraphed in The Last Temptation. There's a new motif (not musical, so unclear if this is the correct term??) that starts around 1:07. It sounds like an aggressive children's choir. Interspersed, we get some of Gal's themes and Sauron-flavored music. I think this new bit could be either a combined theme for Gal/Adar fighting side by side, OR a new motif for a changed/elven Adar. It's aggressive, which to me tracks with Adar's fighting style that we saw through S2Ep7, and it builds and gets more voices added to it as the song progresses. At one point, it blends perfectly with Gal's theme.

Third wild prediction that I hope I'm wrong about: Adar will likely get fatally stabbed during this fight. I could see him giving Galadriel the ring at a crucial moment, in as a redemptive act, which would forfeit any protection it might have offered him, and I think he'll receive a fatal blow from Sauron, but not before we get a much clearer picture of EXACTLY who Adar is. IF they do it this way, it will be a deeply satisying end to Adar's story arc, IMHO.

Last thoroughly unhinged thing I will leave you with:

Nolwa Mahtar translation (from S1), according to Bear's blog:

Finish the war, the darkness, end this suffering

Impossible to pursue, deep in shadow, follow light

Finish the war, the darkness, end this suffering

Bright warrior against darkness.

Obviously this theme plays a HUGE role in S2. I believe the lyrics are different; we don't know what they say yet.

But I have contended all along that this piece has always applied in some way to BOTH Adar and Galadriel.

Galadriel is the bright warrior standing against Sauron's darkness, yes, that image is obvious.

But Adar, a figure who lived deep in shadow, follows light, ultimately finishing his own war and ending his own suffering.

[exhuastedpigeon]

Part of growing up and being a teenager is that you're sometimes forced by your parents/authority figures to deal with situations that you don't want to. It sucks, but that's life. You have to deal with things you don't want to as a person, you can't avoid hard conversations or uncomfortable feelings forever. It doesn't work like that.

So the fact that Helena and Ramon are seemingly letting Chris avoid talking to his dad. Are seemingly helping Chris put roots down in Texas so he can keep avoiding his dad. Who don't seem to be trying to push Chris to face what he saw and the grief and trauma he's experienced isn't helping him in the long term - it's teaching him to run away from his problems and avoid them. Which is exactly what Eddie did when he was only a few years older than Chris. Which may be what Ramon was doing when he was traveling so much for work. Which is what Helena is doing by not talking to her son about the shit he's been through.

Letting Chris, a thirteen, now fourteen year old child, go with his grandparents to Texas for a few months because that's what he wanted was, in my opinion, a good parenting move from Eddie. It showed Chris that he trusts him and values what Chris thinks is best for him.

But it's been three months now. It's been long enough that Chris isn't just going away because it's what he thinks is best for himself, it's because he's avoiding the hard conversation(s) he's going to have to have with his dad. He's fourteen - while sometimes he does know what's best for himself, there are a lot of times where he doesn't.

Helena saying they're thinking about putting a pool in, that they take him to the pool club all the time and he's made so many friends, all of that is clearly a grandparent spoiling their grandchild. She isn't having hard conversations with him, she's letting him avoid his problems and shove them under the rug - something that has never ended well in the Diaz family but they continue to do anyway because that's just what they do - they move forward even at the cost of growing.

I have a feeling there will be some kind of reckoning between Eddie and his mother. He already kind of had one with his dad (though I'm not sure if that's developed further since Chris left). But I have a feeling it'll be Eddie who, once again, has to take the first step to end generational trauma within his family so that Chris doesn't grow up and run away from is problems too.

[bananayuyu]

Lust is in the Air

Pairing: Hongjoong x f reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 6.4k

Summary: Your best friends drags you along to a family wedding, wanting to add some fun to your all too serious life. Turns out her uncle is the one who really provides the distraction.

Warnings: smut, MDNI, age gap (Hongjoong is 40 reader is 23), some talk during sex about the age gap so really don't read this if you don't like that, some dom/sub dynamics, throat fucking, degradation and praise, bratty y/n, use of pet names (baby, doll), ass eating, anal, unprotected sex

A/n: Sometimes I see a random video of him and I'm reminded all over again how hot I think a very mature Hongjoong would be. Especially if he was mocking me and making me feel pathetic. Yeah this was pure horny, quite filthy for me. This isn't as proofread as my normal stuff so apologies for any mistakes

------

Well, maybe it was a good idea. You had been staying in every weekend since the breakup, and maybe being forced out of the house would be good for you. Force you to interact with a few people, to actually put some effort into your appearance. Maybe put on a little makeup, or actually brush your hair.

"Please don't say no," Beatrice says through the phone. "My family would love it if you came, and I'd love it if you came. And we haven't had a chance to spend a weekend like this in forever. There will be free food and free booze!"

"I know you're worried about me, Bea," you respond, sighing.

"I'm not inviting you out of pity," she says.

"I know, I know. Just, give me some time to think it over. I've got an assignment I need to finish for one of my classes, I think it's due this Sunday night. So if I can't finish it this week I'll need to do it this weekend," you reply.

"Okay, just text me. I'm not gonna invite anyone else as my plus one, if you don't end up coming. So no rush, take your time," she says.

"Thank you. You know I appreciate you so much," you say, sighing into the cushion of your couch.

"You know I feel the same," she says, sighing too. You'd both been through breakups recently. It seemed like your hardships always occurred on nearly the same timeline, making you both able to rely on each other for understanding. And she knew getting you out of the house, especially for a weekend wedding, would be good for you. Her cousin's family was rich and hadn't held back in their planning, booking the fanciest hotel in town for everyone. They were paying for everything; the food and drinks of course, and everyone's hotel expenses. You'd knew you'd go. You'd try to finish the assignment beforehand. But even if you didn't, you'd still go.

Driving up to the front of the hotel together felt surreal. Beatrice had asked to take your car, as it wasn't the bright purple color that her's was. This place was fancy, and though neither of your cars were deluxe, at least your's was black.

"Miss McArthur?" the valet asked once you rolled your window down.

"Yeah, that's me," Beatrice said from the passenger seat, reaching over you to hand him her ID. "This is my plus one, y/n. She should be on the list."

After a brief look at his clipboard the man gave you both a satisfied nod. "Do you ladies have any bags we can carry up for you?" he asked.

"Yes, in the trunk," Beatrice answered for you, which you were grateful for. You'd never interacted with a valet before, never been in such a fancy situation in your life. You stumbled out of the car a bit awkwardly, your jean shorts and t-shirt looking ridiculous next to the suit and tie of the man in front of you. He held out his hand to you and for a moment you paused, wondering if he was offering to take your hand. But then you realized he was actually offering to take your keys. Duh.

"Thank you," you said quickly, heading around the car to meet Bea as you walked behind the man carrying your bags.

On the sixth floor you entered your shared room, a spacious and beautifully decorated space with a huge window covering the far wall. It was a sliding glass door, that led out to a balcony overlooking the river below. In the afternoon sun the water glittered, but you knew the view at night would be the real show, absolutely magical.

"Everyone is meeting in the restaurant at 7," Bea tells you, glancing at her family's group chat.

"Well then I've got a little over two hours to make myself look at least a little bit nice. Like maybe I actually belong here," you laugh, opening your bag to grab the casual dress you'd packed.

"Oh dinner tonight won't be fancy, wear whatever," Bea replies, kicking off her sandals.

"Okay but, with your cousins family not fancy would still probably be a little fancy, right?" you ask.

"You don't need to worry about fitting in, dude. No one will care," Bea replies.

"I just don't want to look like an idiot," you say, eyeing her.

"Y/n, you really need to stop worrying. This weekend is about us having fun. I'm not even that close with my cousin Amana, to be honest. We'll probably barely interact with her family. But we get to attend this fancy wedding, all expenses paid. Just wear whatever you feel like, do whatever you want to. Just promise me you'll have some fun," she says.

"Okay, fine," you respond, rolling your eyes jokingly. "I guess I'll try to enjoy this super nice luxury hotel for the weekend."

Bea laughs in relief, at hearing you joke around. It was what you both needed more of; you both had serious work and school lives already to contend with. And seriously disappointing dating lives, too.

As seven approaches you both make your way to the elevator, pausing at you exit the door to inspect the slight amount of makeup you'd put on. You hadn't worn any in weeks and it made you feel really pretty, along with the flowly sundress and sandals you'd decided to wear. You weren't always one for such feminine clothing but today it felt right, and you both bounced down the hall, spirits high. Bea led the way through the lobby to a long hallway, past what looked like a bar and some other room that had a bouncer, to the large restaurant at the end. Immediately you saw the long tables lined up, clearly set up for the wedding party. This wasn't the dress rehearsal, just the welcome dinner. It was only Friday, and the wedding wasn't until Sunday. Immediately you spotted the wine and appetizers filling the table, scanning the tables to try to find your seats.

"I can't find us Bea," you laugh, awkwardly walking past family members you'd never met before.

"Y/n, you're at our table," you hear a familiar female voice say, and turn to see Bea's mom.

"Oh, hi! Thank you!" you say as you walk over to her, giving her a quick hug.

"So glad you could join us sweetie," she says, gesturing to your seats. "See, you and Beatrice are near the end there, across from Nathan. Oh and have you met Beatrice's uncle Hongjoong before?" she asks, gesturing down the table.

You look down to see Beatrice sitting, pulling her chair under her and smiling wide. Across from her, in a casual but fitted grey t-shirt, a man smiles back, handing her a glass of wine he's just poured. He is striking, with jet black hair and tattoos, piercings donning his right ear. His jaw is sharp, his teeth perfect when he smiles. He looks maybe 27, 28. He's wearing an expensive watch, or at least a watch that looks expensive to your eyes, and a small simple chain necklace. His hair is cropped short at the sides; he looks so put together, so professional. So mature. So fucking attractive.

"That's Bea's uncle?" you ask her. It's not just his age that makes you ask. It's the fact that he's basically your dream come true. You see the muscles in his arm flex as he pours Nathan a glass too, and it makes your eyes cross for a moment.

"Well technically I think he's a second cousin, once removed, or something like that. He's a part of Wooyoung's family." Wooyoung was her husband, Bea's dad. You'd met her parents, and her brother Nathan, but never anyone else in her extended family. And you struggled to recall ever hearing about a Hongjoong before. You stared at him a moment before he moved his eyes over to you, catching you off guard. His look was mischievous, like he wants to play or mess with you. It made it hard to believe this was someone Bea called 'uncle.'

"Do you want to sit?" Bea's mom asked you.

"Yeah, sorry," you smiled at her, making you way down.

"Y/n! This is my uncle Hongjoong, and Hongjoong, this is y/n," Beatrice says as you pull out your seat next to her.

"Very nice to meet you," he says with an outstretched hand, his handshake strong and confident in a way that makes your body tingle.

"You as well," you reply, with a bashful smile. Immediately Bea asks you a question and you respond on auto-pilot, not even really hearing. Because your head is swimming in water just from being in this man's presence, and you can't focus. You don't even notice the glass of wine he'd poured you until he sets it down by your appetizer plate, gently bumping the stem on the rim of the plate to make a gentle clink. The sound makes your eyes snap up, and for some reason he looks amused.

"Oh, thank you," you say to him, bowing your head slightly. That mischievous smirk is back on his face when you lock eyes again, like he's trying to tell you something, but you can't be sure what it is. You certainly hope he's thinking what you're thinking. God, he's fucking stunning.

Those are the only words you speak to each other for the entirety of dinner. With so many people in attendance the restaurant is loud, louder still as everyone becomes tipsy, and then outright drunk on the unlimited wine.

"Hey, my parents want me a Nathan to go take pictures with them on the golf course nearby. They booked a photo shoot or something," Bea tells you, rolling her eyes slightly. "I'm not sure when we'll be back but feel free to like, go to the hot tub or do whatever around the hotel," she says.

"Okay, sounds good. Thank you, seriously," you say as you hug her. "I hope it's fun."

"Oh, I'm sure it will be," she laughs. "My parents and their family photos," she shakes her head, making you giggle, as she slowly makes her way to meet her brother at the front door of the restaurant.

You take stock of yourself for a moment, making sure you have your phone and your wallet in your purse, making sure your room key is still in your wallet. You take the last swig of your second glass of wine, patting yourself on the back for not overdoing it this first night when basically everyone around you did. You start sipping on your nearly empty glass of water too, knowing you don't want to wake up hungover tomorrow. The table is basically empty, with everyone slowly clearing out or making their last requests at the bar. You decide you'll go explore in a moment, go scope out the pool and hot tub situation, and maybe see if you can figure out what room is behind that bouncer. But just as you start standing up, Hongjoong approaches the table.

"I got some more waters for the table, but it looks like they've all left," he chuckles, his arms full.

"They went to do a family photo, Bea said," you reply, stuck for a moment awkwardly between sitting and standing. Hongjoong nods, like he already knew.

"Oh, were you about to leave too? Don't let me keep you," he says, the glint back in his eye again.

"I was thinking I'd go take a look at the pool and hot tub, maybe explore a bit," you say. It sort of takes you by surprise that you're sharing this with a total stranger, given your usual instinct to not share anything with people you don't know. You easily could have excused yourself, and been exploring the hotel alone. But deep down you know why you're sharing it. You hope he picks up on that reason, too.

"That's a great idea," he says, gently setting the waters down. "Mind if I join you? I was thinking of exploring the hotel some myself."

Bingo. You smile, eyes fluttering at him for a second. You truly don't even mean to do it, but the way he looks at you has you feeling shameless.

"Sure, I wouldn't mind," you reply, stepping out from your chair and gently pushing it into the table.

"Want to take a water with you?" he asks, holding one out.

"I don't think we can just take the glass with us," you reply, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Oh, who cares," he says glancing over his shoulder, seeing all of the wait staff occupied at the bar with everyone's last minute orders. "I'll carry it out, if you're that worried," he says, cocking his head slightly to the side and eyeing you with what must be mock pity.

"Fine," you roll your eyes at him, trying to fight the smile forming on your face from betraying how much his tone and facial expression are affecting you. You turn around and start strolling out of the restaurant, not even waiting for him. Once you're exiting he's already caught up, two water glasses in hand. You turn to your right, heading for the lobby.

"Wrong way, y/n," Hongjoong says lowly from behind you, making you stop in your tracks. "The pool is out those doors and the end of the hall."

"The sign in the lobby says the door to the pool is by the front desk," you reply, looking over your shoulder at him. The hallway is dimly lit, and the shadows on his face make his jaw look even sharper.

"Well that door also leads to the pool," he says, gesturing to the end of the hall. You just stare at him a moment, not sure why you feel the instinct to argue. "You don't believe me?" he asks, chuckling and looking you dead in the eye, before obviously snaking his gaze down the entirety of your body. Now that he's standing you see the fitted black pants and black dress shoes he's wearing, making his outfit look even more professional. His thighs look strong, and his stance is one of confidence, his entire demeanor cool and collected. You want to come up with a witty retort but can't think of anything, so you just start walking the way he's said to, again passing him by without slowing down to meet him. You open the doors gently but don't stop to hold them for him, brattiness taking ahold of you. Maybe it's the fancy hotel, or the wine, but you feel like a princess who deserves whatever she wants. And right now that's to piss Hongjoong off a bit, and see the pool.

"I thought nice girls hold doors open for the elderly," he says once he's exited too, sidling up to you. You stand by the long edge of the pool, taking in the lights below the surface that dance through the water. You turn to him and roll your eyes, taking the water glass he offers you immediately. "So, what do you do?" he asks.

"I'm still in school, I'm in my senior year," you say, turning back to the water. "And I work part time as an administrative assistant in the Dean's office, to help cover some of my tuition."

"College senior," he says, like he's mulling it over. "So that makes you how old?"

"Guess," you say, turning to him again, this time with your whole body.

"22," he replies. His voice low, like he's hesitant to say it.

"Close, 23," you say, not lowering your voice to meet his.

"And how old do you think I am?" he asks you, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Mmm, like, 38?" you joke, squinting your eyes as you look intently at his face. The feeling of wanting to piss him off still hadn't left you.

"How astute," he replies, nodding. "People usually think I'm younger."

"You're actually 38?" you ask, bewildered.

"Actually, 40," Hongjoong replies, making your eyebrows shoot up.

"You're lying," you say, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at him.

"Wow, second time tonight you've thought that. I don't know what I've done to make you think so poorly of me," he replies, that mischievous look again painting his face.

"Oh, shut up," you say, rolling your eyes harder this time, wanting to reach out and playfully punch him. Or maybe not so playfully. He's looking more and more perfect by the second, and his attitude, the way he's just so confident and calm, is making you hot and bothered. You know it maybe it's wrong, but now that you know his real age you find this whole scenario even hotter. If you were honest with yourself you'd always dreamed of fucking an older man, but the few you'd gone on dates with or had the chance to talk to had always been so immature, insecure, and underwhelming. Just like all the other guys you'd dated. It was a massive disappointment to learn that age didn't often give people that self-assured demeanor that you so desired. But clearly it did sometimes; the proof was standing in front of you.

"That wasn't very nice," Hongjoong replies, fixing you with a look of disapproval that makes your thighs clench involuntarily, as the two of you stare each other down merely feet apart. You hold his gaze as long as you can before you look down at your feet, his stoic demeanor feeling like a brick wall you can't break through.

"You're very pretty, y/n," he says, stepping forward to lift your face up to his.

"Really?" you ask him, eyes wide. Playing it just the way he likes.

"I know you know how pretty you are, you've been giving me those eyes all night," he says, looking like he disapproves. "You're a bit of brat, too, aren't you?" he asks, his hand moving to the side of your cheek.

"No comment," you giggle, and he grabs your hand, bringing it to his upper arm. You grab onto his bicep as he moves his hand to your waist pulling you two closer.

"Dance with me," he says, pulling you slightly into his chest.

"There isn't any music playing," you say, laughing. And it's the way that he doesn't just automatically laugh at your little comments that really gets you going.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't like me very much," he says seriously, pulling you in and starting to rock you back and forth. You dance together for a few minutes, no words being exchanged as your bodies get used to the proximity, as your mind begins to swim again, even more so now that his hands are on you. You want him to kiss you, do anything, now, but he keeps his hands where they are, still leading you around in slow circles. Fuck it, you think. You lift your hands to his face and pull him in, your lips meeting in a perfect kiss, his hand on your waist moving up your back as he holds you to him, leaning you back as he deepens it. You hold steadily onto his bicep for balance, your breathing fast as you stick your tongue in his mouth, not hiding your desperation. You don't care to, not when you've spent two months without this feeling, tortured over the idea that no one at your school would ever consider you an option after your last relationship ended the way it did.

And just when it seems like you're the only desperate one, Hongjoong moves his hands down, running them up your thighs and under your dress to find your panties. He finds none, much to his surprise, which makes his dick harden even further. He gropes your ass, deepening the kiss more, making you arch your back in neediness. And then he snakes his hand around, slowly moving to your core, before suddenly running a finger over your slit, making you gasp. You've forgotten where you are, totally engrossed in the feelings he's giving you. You buck your hips against his hand, moaning pathetically into his mouth, your legs feeling like they might give out on you. He starts circling your entrance, finally pushing one finger in maybe an inch, when you finally remember where you are.

"Wait, fuck, not out here," you say, pulling back from him. He pulls his hand away immediately, his fingers glistening in the lights of the night.

"You don't want everyone to see?" he asks, a smirk on his face.

"Not when the people paying for me to be here could see," you say. Your lips look swollen and wet from the kiss, and it makes him want to grab you again.

"You're the one who kissed me," he says, his voice low. And you know there's more he's implying, that you weren't just the one who kissed him but that you had rocked against his hand, had wanted his touch. That you'd kissed him desperately, making him unable to stop himself. The implication is inappropriate, the accusation he's laid on you not fair in the slightest. He has no way of knowing what you were trying to make him do, or what you wanted to happen. You hadn't said a word. And yet, he's totally right, making it hard for you to respond.

"That's-," you sigh, your pussy still throbbing from your proximity.

"My room is on the 7th floor," he says.

"Okay," you reply. It's all you can say. You stand completely still, stuck to the spot, waiting for him to move. Instead he puts his wet fingers in his mouth, sucking off your slick in one smooth motion, humming in satisfaction. Your mouth gapes at his lewdness, struck now by just how visible you both obviously are.

"Let's go," he says, motioning his head towards the door.

Your legs move automatically, your mind playing over and over the visual of him licking his fingers, the look of utter bliss on his face. As you walk the hallway he comes behind you, putting a hand on the small of your back, making your body melt into him slightly. It feels good but you gently remove his hand, not wanting anyone to see. You pray that neither Bea nor any of her family are in the lobby when you enter, and thankfully, your prayers are answered. Nor does anyone join you two on the elevator, which makes you willing to stand closer to Hongjoong than you would any other stranger. But still, you don't touch him. As you both exit you walk behind him, almost enough space between you that you could believably look like two total strangers, walking to separate rooms. Until he unlocks his door, holding it open as you slip inside, like you're really not supposed to be in here.

As soon as he closes the door he's pulled you to him, his back slamming into the wall as you nearly crash together, the air between you thick with lust.

"I'm almost twice as old as you, y/n," he whispers in your ear, feeling your pussy clench against his thigh that you're straddling, your mouth on his neck. "You like that," he states, not even asking you anymore. "You like that I'm way too old for you. Too old to be touching you like this."

It's wrong, so wrong and you know it, but the further he pushes it the more you're surrendering to what's happening, to what your body truly craves.

"You've never been fucked right by those stupid boys at your college, have you? You need me to fuck you right, to show you how good you can feel. That's why you were bratty with me, you wanted me to be riled up. Want me to fuck you hard, like I'm mad. Like I'm punishing you," he growls, his breathing heavy as you bite down on his neck, sending sparks of pain and pleasure through his head. "Fuck, you really want me mad, don't you?" he asks and you whine in response, your whole body tingly with anticipation.

"Get on your knees," he says, pulling you back from him, your hair already a mess from his hands, the straps of your dress falling down your shoulders and nearly making your tits spill out. "Open your mouth," he commands, and you follow immediately, your wide eyes looking up at him in desire, his thumb running over your bottom lip. "I like when you do what I say," he says, pinching your cheek and making you blush, the praise making your insides turn to jelly. He unzips his pants smoothly, undoing the button and swiftly pulling out his hard cock, the tip a slight shade of red and already leaking slightly.

"Look what you did to me," he says, palming himself, your tongue nearly falling out of your mouth as you salivate over his beautiful cock. "I thought for a moment I'd have to come up here and deal with this all on my own, after you eye-fucked me all dinner," he continues, slowly stroking his length, moving closer to your open and waiting lips. "I should have known you weren't wearing any panties from the way you were acting," he says, gently running his tip along your outstretched tongue, spreading your spit around your face with it and making a mess of you. "No bra, no panties. You wanted to be fucked tonight." Slowly he enters your mouth, gently holding your head as he pushes further in, gently tapping the back of your throat and making you gag. You moan, your pussy clenching around nothing, wanting him to fill all of your holes at once. "That feels good, doesn't it. Gagging on my cock," he smirks, your eyes fluttering closed as he pushes in again, this time a little harder. "Eyes on me baby, don't look away," he says, slowly beginning to fuck your throat, gently enough not to choke you but deep enough to make you repeatedly gag, your spit covering his cock and running down your chin, your face a complete mess. "Fuck, your mouth feels good," he groans, his face scrunching up in pleasure for a moment, before he looks down to meet your eyes again, which are now glued to him, glued to every change in his expression, every flick of his tongue across his bottom lip. "I'm gonna go harder baby, I know you can take it," he warns you before picking up his pace, his cock nearly bottoming out in your mouth as he holds your head in place, repeatedly fucking into your throat. You're automatically swallowing around him, your body's reflexive actions taking over. "Fuck, so good," Hongjoong sighs, your head feeling light from the lack of oxygen and your body swimming in pleasure. You could let him use your throat all night if he wanted to, especially if he keeps talking to you like that. Like you're dumb and you don't even know what you want. Like he has to tell you or you'll never figure it out.

Finally you choke hard, your body instinctively pulling you back, and he pulls out of your mouth letting you catch you breath, stroking a hand through your hair. You run a hand across your mouth, trying in vain to clean yourself up a bit, wiping the saliva on your dress and staring up at him open mouthed, your entire body covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Hey, don't ruin this," he says pulling at your dress, moving behind you to help take it off. He slowly undoes the zipper, gently pulling the straps down and off your arms before helping you stand to step out of it. Completely bare, you stand in front of him, his hand coming up to spank you, grabbing your ass hungrily in his hand. You yelp at the impact, like you weren't expecting it. Like you hadn't been sticking your ass out ever so slightly, arching your back to add to the affect. "Don't write checks you can't cash, doll," he says, making you giggle and turn your head to face him, a look of utter delight on your face. "It really makes you happy when I scold you, doesn't it," he says, staring you down.

"Why are you so clothed?" you ask, finding your words.

"You want to see me naked?" he teases.

"Just seems like you're hiding something. Maybe under all that nice clothing you're really not that built," you laugh, knowing it would strike a nerve. It wasn't hard to tell that he cared about his figure.

"Go sit on your hands on the bed," he retorts, his eyes narrowing, as he starts taking off his watch, undoing the clasp on his chain. He sets both down on the table gently, pulling his shirt over his head next, revealing that most of his abdomen is also covered in tattoos, his broad shoulders and broad chest. Slowly he sits on the side of the bed to untie his shoes, periodically looking up at you to make sure you haven't moved, moving almost comically slow. You wriggle in anticipation, watching him slowly reveal himself, his muscular thighs finally on display to you as he pulls down his pants and boxers, his cock hard and a deeper shade of red now, still glistening from your spit.

"Lay on your stomach," he says, moving over you when you oblige, raking the hair out of your face so he can see you. "This is what you get for sticking your ass out," he says, swiftly moving down to lick over your hole, making you gasp at the coldness of his tongue. Immediately the feeling runs to your clit, your entire crotch alive with pleasure, your back arching instinctively to meet his movements. He spreads your cheeks to get better access, moving his tongue in quick circles around your tight entrance, your body slowly relaxing from the pleasure he's providing.

And suddenly he's off of you, reaching into his bedside drawer and pulling out a bottle, swiftly lubing the fingers of his right hand and moving them to your waiting hole, gently pushing one in. You groan, the tight muscles stretching already, your body arching even further to give him the perfect angle as he gently starts pumping in and out of you.

"You like getting your ass eaten, I knew you would. So dirty," he says, making you whine in agreement, your brows scrunched together in pleasure. Soon he adds another finger, the stretch again making you groan, your body instinctively tightening up at the intrusion. "I know you can take it," he says, not even attempting to comfort you. "Don't brats like getting their asses fucked?" he asks, his words making your clit ache, your body finally releasing again as he works you open with two fingers, taking the opportunity to quickly add another. "I knew it," he says, satisfied with how quickly he's stretched you open, how pliant your body is in his hands, how he's getting exactly what he wants from you. Still fucking you with his fingers, he opens the lube bottle again with his other hand, generously dousing his achingly hard cock. Gently he pulls his fingers out of you, frozen for a moment staring at the way your hole has opened up, nearly drooling from the visual.

"Spread you legs," he says, pushing your knees apart himself, pulling you ass up towards him, just where he wants you. Lining himself up, he slowly pushes in, the stretch even more severe this time, making you whine in pain, your breaths short and stifled with your head now shoved into his pillows. "What, you can't take it? Is it too big?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "My little brat can't take my cock in her ass?"

Tears start forming in your yees from how turned on you are, the pain a secondary feeling as it all starts to feel just right, as it starts morphing into only pleasure as your muscles finally relent. You feel like you're being split open, like you're opened up more than ever before, like he's gutting you from the inside. Finally he bottoms out, reaching into you further than you thought you could feel, your clit throbbing painfully with need.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans from above you, brushing a hand along your cheek in an almost sweet gesture, seeing the single tear stain on your cheek. He waits a moment, waiting to feel if your body is ready, and suddenly your hips are moving into his like your body is begging him to move. He slowly pulls out, almost all the way, then thrusts back in, making you gasp at the intense pleasure, your breath nearly getting caught in your throat. Grabbing your hips he starts forcefully thrusting, chasing his own pleasure as he's sucked into your ass, the tight muscles threatening to make him come in an instant. Desperate for some relief you move your hand to your clit, desperately trying to circle it as he rocks you hard with the force of his thrusts. His eyes are glued to your ass, glued to the way his cock looks buried inside you, and your face, the way your mouth hangs permanently open as you moan in earnest, clearly not controlling a single sound that is coming out. The raw sounds make him fuck into you even harder, the way you sound so pathetically fucked out, like you can't believe this feels so good. Eventually his eyes roam down again and spot your hand, swatting it away in an instant, his anger boiling up again.

"Is my cock not enough?" he scolds, his voice gravelly from breathing so raggedly, the air in the room stifling hot. In this position it's hard, but quickly he finds a good angle and lands a sharp smack on your clit, the pain lancing through your core like lightning, and suddenly your whole body is shaking, your nerves completely on fire. "Even with my cock buried in your ass you want to piss me off, don't you?" His voice is raised, nearly to the point of losing control, but still very calculated. He lands another sharp slap on your clit, this time not as hard, but in an instant your orgasm washes over you, your whole body shaking hard as you squeeze down around his cock making it hard for him to keep moving.

"Fuck, baby, shit," Hongjoong curses, his climax hitting him by surprise, his cock milked by your tight walls squeezing down on him, your body taught with just how hard you came. His orgasm crashes over him fast and hard, his body going limp just after yours does, as you both collapse in a pile on the bed, his cum coating the walls of your ass in silky wetness. Your legs are still shaking, tucked up underneath you, his cock still buried deep inside. The position is awkward but you don't even feel it, the pleasure still rippling through you as you breath hard into the soft pillow. Hongjoong crashes onto your back, his arms instinctively wrapping around you, his chest and stomach rapidly rising and falling from his heavy breathing. His skin feels sticky and hot against yours, his hot breath fanning over your cheek as he plants a kiss there, intently watching your face as you come down.

"I'm gonna pull out now, okay?" he asks, eliciting a hum of agreement from you. Slowly he pulls backwards, his cum spilling out of you the moment he's pulled out entirely, spilling down your ass cheek onto the bedsheets. Hongjoong makes his way to the bathroom, quickly cleaning himself up before grabbing a washcloth for you, dousing it in luke warm water. Coming back to the bed he gently moves you onto your back, to the side of the pool of cum. He gently wipes you down, making you moan when he brushes over your clit, making himself chuckle.

Glancing over at the clock beside his bed you see it's nearly 11pm, your mind spinning. Quickly you move to the ground to rummage through your purse, glancing at your phone to see a text from Beatrice reading 'I'm back now, don't stay out too late miss.'

Be back soon, you write back.

"I should be going," you say, trying to stand up, your wobbly legs making it difficult. Hongjoong is at your side in a moment, stabilizing you, helping you to sit down on the bed while he grabs your dress off the floor. You hastily pull it over your head, running your fingers through your hair and feeling the knots that have formed. Quickly you zip the back of your dress, shove your phone in your purse and stand to slip on your sandals, not wanting to keep her waiting. The sudden quietness of Hongjoong also has you feeling slightly on edge, and really your head is just spinning, from every unexpected thing that happened.

"I'm not still mad, you know," he says gently, grabbing your hand as you move to breeze past him.

"Yeah?" you ask, looking at him with confusion.

"You don't need to still be acting like a kid who is in trouble," he says, kissing your hand. "That was just, that. You can talk to me like anyone else, now."

You eye him, swallowing thickly. What does one even say, now? Could he tell how inexperienced you were with hookups?

"I'm not sure what's going on in that pretty head of yours. I hope it's happy thoughts."

You nod, a smirk playing on your lips. You're speechless, unable to think a complete thought. It all just plays in your head, his tongue on your ass, his fingers stretching you out, his cock pounding into you so hard. And the smack on your clit, the way it made you come so fast, the ghost of the feeling still present in your core.

"Not those thoughts. You're gonna jump me again," he laughs, and finally you smack him, punching his arm soon afterwards. Pushing past him you walk fast, opening his door and spinning around, your eyes piercing as you meet his.

"What, you can't take my teasing?" he asks, but suddenly his door swings shut, your face gone in a flash.

As you saunter down the hall to the elevator you feel fucking amazing, swinging your purse over your shoulder and flipping your hair to the side, your sleepy eyes boring holes into the metal doors.

Well, she did tell you to have some fun. You just hoped Beatrice wouldn't be too mad you fucked her uncle.

[dimalry]

Second you in loving depressed, dark circle, chronic insomniac Azriel with demonic possession undertones. I feel like often he’s portrayed as very soft uwu baby or dark daddy dom when really he’s a workaholic grouchy introvert with a fucked up sleep schedule.

Do you think he has any connections to Hel in the larger Maasverse? I’ve had a theory for a while that he’s a descendant of one of the princes which would explain how he ended up with Truth-Teller.

Anyway, just want you to know that I picture your version of both Az and Gwyn when I write in canon, so thanks for the inspo!

Yes, absolutely! Though I’ve never thought of what kind of connection Azriel might have to Hel until now. Your ask got me to think…

What if Shadowsingers, rare as they are, were actually created by one of the Princes of Hel? I wish Truth-Teller wasn’t Gwydion’s twin, but rather a long-forgotten weapon once wielded by a long-dead Prince of Hel. Azriel could have discovered it eons later, feeling a strange connection to it, as it was the very weapon responsible for birthing his kind.

(Excuse my poor attempt at drawing shadow- soldiers/beasts. This is basically what I had in mind. This too)

Let’s say Shadowsingers were once a single shadow entity. But over time they split, with shadows becoming just one part of a person rather than their whole form.

A good number of them remain in Hel, but they've transformed into strange, nasty creatures. In Prythian, there are hardly any left, and Azriel may be the last. There are a few in Throne of Glass and Crescent City worlds, but they differ from Azriel.

It is very difficult to find any information about Shadowsingers. No one knows where they come from or how they came to be.

Who gave them the title 'Shadowsinger' anyway? What if it was simply a fitting name given by a mad scholar who first encountered someone with dark, shadow powers? What if these soldiers originally had a different name, given to them by the long-dead Prince of Hel?

And let’s give Shadowsingers the ability to shapeshift. I’ve always found it strange that Azriel is considered the best spymaster in the world, yet everyone knows he’s the Night Court's spymaster, which defeats the whole purpose of being a spy. It’s like imagining a Russian spy working in an American office, and everyone there knows he's a Russian spy. (Lol)

But what if Azriel could change his identity through his shadows? That would truly make him the best spymaster. He wouldn’t need to go through the trouble of creating fake identities; he could simply turn himself into one of Beron’s personal guards. People might know who the Night Court’s spymaster is, but they’d never know when or who he’s pretending to be. Additionally, he could winnow through his shadows instead of using the typical method. By commanding his shadows, he could transport himself anywhere, making him even more powerful than Rhys in terms of winnowing. He wouldn’t need to pause for breath like Rhys; he could take 10 people with him effortlessly.

Connect that to the shadow soldiers from Hel. They used to transform into whatever they liked (like this) and winnow with ease, which is why the war went on for like forever. The prince’s army was incredibly difficult to take down.

Shadowsingers still speak the language of Hel to this day. Azriel uses it to communicate with his shadows, and only Shadowsingers can understand this language—no one else. They don’t even have to learn it.

Okay, wait—can we consider that the winning side was the mother, leading her own army? That Gwydion was wielded against the Prince of Hel? Thus, the Maas universe was forged from the remnants of that eternal war ages ago.

And while Gwyn isn’t related to the sword like Azriel is to the dagger, nor to the soldiers who fought for the mother, as a priestess who worships her, she does have that little connection.

It would be quite amusing for the Fates to pair a descendant of those Hel creatures with a priestess who worships the Mother as mates.

Good god, I somehow pulled this out of my ass. Now I have to incorporate that idea into my story cause it‘s kind of awesome.

Anyway, I’d Iove to read your fic. It makes me happy to know that people use my art as inspiration 🥹

thank you for the ask! Have a lovely day 💕

[rotthepoet]

Invisible String Theory (pt. 3)

Angel,

I don’t understand why you’re so upset. There's no reason to use such foul, angry language with me. We can talk about this, love. Oh I’d love to just sit down and talk with you for hours. I really think I could listen to you talk for days on end. Maybe you could read to me sometime, like she used to. Regardless, amo my love, we shouldn’t be fighting like this. This isn’t like us, we’re happy together. I’m happy with you, and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you're happy with me. We should go back to how it used to be, where you smiled at what I wrote, where you wore my gifts happily. What changed? You threw my sweater out. 

But that really doesn't matter, what matters is that you're happy. Let me make you happy, love. What would you like to do on our first date? Maybe a picnic by the lake, underneath your favorite tree. I'll prepare everything so you don’t have to worry. You can just lay down underneath the tree, head on my lap, and I'll read to you for hours if you like. Do you like reading? I forgot to ask, but I see you in the library a lot, so I bet you do. I’m a writer, you know. Maybe it’s because I spent so much time in a library as a kid, too. I wish you could have seen the library of my childhood home, where she used to spend her days. I wish you could have met her. She would have loved you. Like I love you. I love you. God, I love you. I love you! I love you! I love you!

I just want to say it to your face. I’ve never been shy, but there's something about you. You change me, darling. 

-Yours, even if you’re upset with me.

P.S. I left 100 Galleons under your pillow. Buy yourself something pretty for me ;)

𓆙

Princi Princess,

You don’t need to know me right now, you just need to know how much I love you. How much I care about you. How much I want to protect you, darling. That doesn’t mean I haven’t talked to you, of course not. In fact, we had a lovely conversation today, though everything is lovely with you. You pushed your hair out of your face, and I wanted nothing more than to do it for you. To gently push your hair behind your ear, make you stare up into my eyes, God i love when you look me in the eyes. I could stare into your eyes all day, all night, all the time. I love you. I just wanted to remind you.

-Yours, head over heels.

𓆙

Fuckface, 

Stop. Just stop. This isn’t funny anymore. This is weird and unsettling. I don’t know you, I don’t want to talk to you, stop seeking me out. Don’t even bother approaching me outside of your letters for our “lovely chats” because I'm certain the loveliness is one-sided. I’m sick of this, i’m sick of you. Knock it off. Fuck you, fuck your “love”, and fuck everything about you. 

Fuck you,

 Never Yours.

𓆙

Darling,

I’m going to pretend your little outburst didn’t happen. We can just pretend everything is okay, because it is okay. I heard you paid Theodore Nott to beat up anyone “suspicious” who approaches you, but what is he going to do? You’re smarter than this, love. Who am I? Really think about it.

-Yours, Forever.

P.s. Fix your attitude.

[luviwon]

FLOWERS OVER EXES — k.sn

❀ in which kim sunoo makes up for your ex boyfriend's miserable behaviour and gets you flowers to bring up your mood. but he doesn't stop there and brings you to heaven too. ❀ a combination of angst, fluff and vanilla smut is this a thing? (who could not fall for romantic sunoo i am actually on the floor now someone rescue me) ❀ in the mood for something sad but sweet and passionate as well so there you go ❀ for whoever doesn't want to read the smut part, i will put a small warning before the start of that so read worriless. as for my horny readers, you can just jump down there to avoid all the tear-causing scenes.

"leave, then. i don't need you anymore"

his words were just as a sharp arrow, splitting your heart into two. you did not dare to confront him anymore, not after everything that has happened. looking at him in the eyes one more time, you felt a burning tear painting your face. it was not worth crying for this pathetic man, but you couldn't help yourself. everything you have shared together was still there somehow, and despite his wrong doings, you still kept thinking about the good times.

you had to control yourself, though, and acknowledge what a piece of trash he was. and that there was no better decision than to stand up and leave as he said. you did not need him anymore either.

"i'll send someone to get my things by the end of this week"

he just nodded, turning his back to you and going on his phone. is this the lowest respect he has left for you? you opened your mouth sligthly, ready to criticise him and tell him one final thing before leaving forever, but you stopped yourself. you were more than that and should not lower yourself to his level.

without further goodbyes, you left your ex boyfriend house and walked down the steps, holding your tears back still.

you kept your head down as you walked through the streets, trying to ignore the tightening in your chest. the cool evening air nipped at your skin, but it wasn’t enough to numb the ache growing inside you. each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of everything pressing down like an anchor.

you didn’t want to cry. not here. not now.

the sidewalk was quiet, just the occasional hum of a car passing by, but even in the stillness, your thoughts screamed louder. you had done the right thing. you had to believe that. but it didn’t feel like it. each memory flashed in your mind like cruel reminders—the laughter, the stolen glances, the small moments that felt too perfect to be real. and maybe they never were.

your eyes burned, but you blinked the tears away. you couldn’t fall apart now, not in the middle of the street where anyone could see.

as the familiar path towards the han river stretched out in front of you, your phone buzzed in your pocket. you hesitated for a moment, thumb hovering over the screen, before pressing call. you needed to hear a voice, something to ground you, to remind you that you weren’t completely alone.

"hello?" sunoo’s voice was soft, and for a second, you could almost pretend nothing was wrong. almost.

“hey…” your voice came out shakier than you wanted, and you bit your lip, trying to steady it.

"you okay?" he asked, instantly picking up on the tremor. his concern wrapped around you like a blanket, but it only made it harder to keep your composure.

you swallowed hard, fingers curling tightly around your phone. "i’m fine. just needed to… hear someone."

there was a pause, the kind that made you wonder if he was trying to find the right words or if he already knew. “what did he do again?”

his question hit like a punch to the gut, and before you could stop it, a sob broke through your chest, loud and raw, spilling out into the night air. you clamped your hand over your mouth, as if that would stop the rest from coming, but it was too late.

sunoo’s voice immediately softened, "hey, hey… it's okay. i’m here. talk to me."

you tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. your legs felt weak, and you had to stop, leaning against a lamppost to steady yourself. everything felt too much—too loud, too painful, too real.

"where are you?" sunoo asked gently. you could hear the worry creeping into his voice, but he wasn’t pushing you. he never did.

you wiped at your cheeks, hating the way your breath kept catching in your throat. "the bridge," you whispered. "i’m going to the han river bridge."

“okay, stay there. i’m coming to you, alright?” he was already moving, you could hear it in his voice, the rush of footsteps in the background. "just hold on."

you nodded even though he couldn’t see. "i’m sorry," you managed to say, voice breaking again. you didn’t even know what you were apologizing for—maybe for calling him, for crying like this, for not being stronger.

"don’t be sorry," sunoo said softly. "you don’t have to do this alone. i’m almost there."

you lowered the phone and took a deep breath, staring out at the darkening sky. the han river was just ahead, the faint shimmer of water in the distance. you’d been here so many times before, but tonight it felt different—like everything had changed. like you had changed.

you stood by the railing of the bridge, eyes unfocused as you stared out at the water. the river moved slowly beneath the soft glow of the streetlights, but your mind was far from the calm that surrounded you. it kept pulling you back—back to him, to his words, to the way everything seemed to fall apart in such a quiet, brutal way.

people walked past, some alone, some in pairs, their footsteps light against the pavement. you could feel their glances, brief but piercing, as if they could see through you, as if they knew. you shifted your weight, trying to make yourself smaller, to hide the mess you felt like, but it only made the knot in your chest tighter. your face was still warm and damp from crying, and you wiped at it quickly, telling yourself to get it together.

“come on,” you muttered under your breath, taking in a shaky breath. “be strong. you have to be strong.”

but the words felt hollow, like they were just something to say because you didn’t know how else to pull yourself out of this. everything hurt, and even though you told yourself over and over again that you were fine, that you were better off without him, it didn’t stop the ache from settling deeper.

you closed your eyes, leaning forward on the railing, letting the cool wind brush against your skin. maybe, just for a moment, you could let yourself fall apart. no one would notice, right? no one would—

and then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw it—something familiar. you turned your head slowly, gaze catching on a figure walking towards you. the first thing you noticed was the coat—black and slightly oversized, the one you’d seen so many times before. the way it hung loosely on his frame, sleeves too long for his delicate hands. then the hair, that familiar mess of dark strands that somehow always looked perfect in its disarray.

sunoo.

he wasn’t rushing, but his steps had a purpose, his eyes already locked on you. and for a second, everything around you seemed to blur. there was something comforting in his presence, something that made your heart ache a little less, even though you hadn’t said a word yet. but then, as he got closer, you noticed something else—something unfamiliar.

in his hand, he was holding a small bouquet of flowers, wrapped carefully in soft blue paper. delicate, pale blue peonies peeked out from the wrapping, their soft petals almost glowing in the dim light of the streetlamps. you blinked, caught off guard by the sight. despite the familiar comfort of seeing him, there was something so unexpected, so tender, in the way he held them.

sunoo reached you, his breath a little uneven from the walk, but his expression was calm, his eyes soft as he looked at you. he said nothing at first, just standing there with you, offering his presence like an anchor. but it was the flowers that kept drawing your gaze.

“you okay?” he asked, voice low and gentle, like he didn’t want to break whatever fragile moment this was.

you opened your mouth to speak, but the words tangled in your throat. instead, you shook your head, unable to stop the tears from welling up again.

sunoo didn’t waste a second. as soon as he saw the tears welling up in your eyes again, he gently placed the bouquet down on the ground and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around you in a way that felt so natural, like he’d been waiting for this moment to be there for you. his embrace was firm but soft, and before you could think, your face was pressed against his chest, his warmth enveloping you. his hand found its way to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair as he pulled you even closer. he rested his chin on top of your head, the steady rise and fall of his breathing a quiet reminder that you weren’t alone.

“it’s okay,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath against your hair. “you don’t have to say anything. i’m here. i’ve got you.”

his hand stroked your hair in gentle motions, like he was trying to smooth out the chaos inside you with each pass of his fingers. you didn’t resist, letting yourself melt into him, the tension you’d been carrying for so long slowly unraveling in his arms. you could feel his heart beating steadily against your cheek, and somehow, that rhythm made everything seem a little less terrifying. his scent wrapped around you—clean and familiar, with the faintest trace of something warm, like vanilla. it filled your senses, grounding you, reminding you that not everything was lost.

“you’re not alone anymore,” sunoo murmured, his voice low but strong. “whatever happens, whatever this is… you don’t have to carry it by yourself. i’ll be here, no matter what. i promise.”

you didn’t say anything, just pressed your face deeper into his chest, your fingers clutching at the fabric of his coat like it was the only thing keeping you standing. his words soaked into you, each one like a small stitch, trying to pull together the pieces of you that had been so brutally torn apart.

“i don’t know what happened,” he continued, his hand still moving slowly through your hair. “and i don’t need to know right now. all that matters is that you’re safe, and i’ll protect you from here on out. whatever it takes.”

his chin shifted slightly against your head, and you could feel the way his breath stirred your hair as he spoke. there was something so steady, so unshakable about the way he held you, like he was a wall between you and the rest of the world. you didn’t have to be strong right now, not with him. it was like all the weight you’d been carrying was finally allowed to fall.

“sunoo…” your voice cracked as you finally spoke, muffled against his chest. the words felt heavy, like they’d been trapped inside you for too long. “it’s over now. it just… ended.”

saying it out loud made it real, and the reality hit like a wave, crashing down with a force you weren’t ready for. your body shook as the sobs finally came, no longer silent, no longer restrained. you cried into his chest, letting everything out—everything you had been holding in, all the pain, all the confusion, all the love you didn’t know how to let go of.

sunoo tightened his hold on you, one hand pressing gently to your back, keeping you close, as if he could shield you from the hurt with his touch alone. “i know… i know,” he whispered softly, his voice trembling just a little, but he never wavered. “let it out. you don’t have to be strong right now. i’m here.”

he didn’t let go. not once. and in that moment, you let yourself believe him. you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to go through this alone. in his arms, with the sound of his heartbeat in your ears and his warmth surrounding you, the world didn’t feel as cold.

sunoo held you for a while longer, his chin still resting on your head as he let you cry in his arms. but as the minutes passed, the air around you began to grow colder, the last traces of sunlight disappearing beyond the horizon. he felt the slight shiver that ran through you and pulled back gently, just enough to look at you, concern flickering in his eyes.

"it’s getting dark," he said softly, brushing a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb. "and cold. let’s get you home and warm up, okay? i’ll take care of everything. i promise, you won’t be alone tonight."

there was something so reassuring in the way he said it, so sure and steady, that you found yourself nodding without hesitation. the thought of being alone, of walking back to an empty apartment with nothing but the echo of tonight’s heartbreak, made you feel even more fragile. but with sunoo, even just for now, you didn’t have to face that emptiness.

he smiled at your nod, that small, gentle smile of his that always seemed to bring a little light, even in moments like this. "come on, let’s go."

as he bent down to pick up the bouquet from the ground, you watched him for a moment, noticing how careful he was with the flowers, as if they were something precious. then, without a word, he slipped his arm around your shoulders, his touch warm and solid, guiding you gently as you leaned into him. you were still shaky, still sobbing quietly, but his presence made it just a little easier to take each step.

you rested your head on his shoulder as you walked, the weight of your grief still heavy, but his steady pace gave you something to hold on to. he led you to his car, the soft click of the remote unlocking the doors breaking the quiet of the night. when you reached the passenger side, he paused, opening the door for you with a care that felt so... intentional, like every movement was meant to make you feel safe.

"here," he said softly, helping you into the seat. he carefully set the bouquet in the back, the blue flowers almost glowing in the dim light from the streetlamps, before closing your door with a soft thud.

you watched him circle around the car, your eyes tracing his familiar figure as he moved, his hair slightly tousled from the breeze, the faint shadows of exhaustion under his eyes. when he slid into the driver’s seat, he turned to you with that same gentle smile, though there was a flicker of worry behind it.

"let’s go," he said quietly, and the engine purred to life as he started the car, the low hum filling the space between you.

you leaned your head against the window, feeling the cool glass press against your skin, your gaze drifting up towards the night sky. the stars were faint, scattered against the dark canvas of the city, but they were there, blinking quietly in the distance. you focused on them, using their distant light to hold yourself together, to keep the tears at bay. you didn’t want to cry anymore, not here, not in front of him.

the car moved smoothly through the streets, the soft glow of passing streetlights flickering over your face. you could feel sunoo’s eyes on you, stealing glances when he thought you weren’t noticing. but you felt it—his worry, his care, the way he was watching over you even in the smallest moments. every so often, he would adjust his grip on the steering wheel, his hand moving effortlessly between the controls, and you found yourself oddly comforted by the sight. there was something undeniably calming about the way he drove, like he was in control of everything, even when the world felt like it was falling apart around you.

after a while, you felt the softest touch—a gentle pressure on your hand. you looked down and saw sunoo’s hand resting on yours, which had been resting limply on your thigh. his touch was warm, his fingers wrapping lightly around yours, anchoring you to the moment.

"it’s going to be okay," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the quiet hum of the engine. "i promise."

you couldn’t bring yourself to respond, not yet, but something in his touch, in his words, soothed the ache just a little. you stared out the window again, watching the city lights blur past as the car made its way through the familiar streets. despite the heaviness inside you, there was a strange sense of peace in this moment—in his presence, in the quiet reassurance he gave without asking anything in return.

every now and then, you caught the way his hand moved on the steering wheel, the light reflecting off his skin as he handled the car with one hand, the other still resting protectively on yours. there was something about the way he drove, the quiet confidence in each movement, that made you feel... safe. not just physically, but in a way that went deeper, as if he could handle whatever came next, as long as he was by your side.

you let out a shaky breath, your tears drying on your cheeks, and leaned back into the seat, the weight of the night still heavy but no longer unbearable. and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself believe—just a little—that maybe it really would be okay.

before you even realized it, you had arrived at the entrance of your apartment’s parking lot. the streetlights cast long, hazy shadows on the ground, and the gentle hum of the car's engine began to fade as sunoo effortlessly turned it off. he glanced at you one last time before you stepped out, his eyes brimming with quiet hope and an encouraging smile that seemed to say, “you’re not alone in this.”without hesitation, he got out of the car and hurried around to your side, not giving you a chance to move on your own. he opened the door for you, his attention entirely focused on you and nothing else. with gentle hands, he helped you out of the car, and as you stood up, he carefully reached into the backseat to retrieve the bouquet of flowers.

you fumbled for your keys in your pocket, your hands still shaky from the tears that hadn't fully dried. sunoo noticed, of course he did, and with that same tenderness, he took the keys from you, his fingers brushing yours in a way that made you feel like he was absorbing some of the weight you carried. "i’ve got it," he whispered, his voice a soft promise. he unlocked the door and nudged it open, but he didn’t step in first. no, he let you take that step—letting you lead in your own space, your sanctuary that felt strangely foreign at this moment.

you walked in, the familiar scent of home greeting you, but everything felt too still, too quiet. the weight of the day hung in the air, pressing down on your chest as you stood there, unsure of what to do next. sunoo closed the door softly behind you and, without saying a word, helped you slip off your coat. his movements were slow, deliberate, as if he wanted to shield you from even the smallest discomfort. he guided you gently toward the sofa, the only thing that seemed to belong in the room right now.

"how about you sit here for a while," he whispered, his voice as soothing as the night itself, "i’ll make us some tea, something warm to help you feel better." and before you could respond, he was already in the kitchen, the sound of cabinets opening and the quiet clinking of mugs filling the silence that you hadn’t noticed until then. the soft whir of the kettle began, blending with the faint shuffle of his feet on the kitchen floor. it was comforting, these small noises of someone taking care of you, the way he always knew what you needed before you even realized it yourself.

you sank into the sofa, eyes falling on the bouquet now resting on the coffee table. they were beautiful, untouched by the sadness in your heart, as if they held onto the light that seemed so distant from you. the warmth of the room, the soft glow from the lamps sunoo had turned on without you noticing, everything began to feel less overwhelming, even just for a moment.

sunoo came back, holding two steaming mugs, the rich scent of tea swirling around you. he set them down carefully next to the flowers before settling beside you, close enough that his presence was a balm against the storm inside you. without a word, he opened his arms, and you collapsed into him, your body shaking as the tears returned. he held you tighter, one hand stroking your back in soothing circles, his voice a quiet hum of comfort. "it’s going to be okay, y/n," he murmured, "i’m here. i’ll always be here.

and for a second—just a second—you believed him. the warmth of his chest, the steady beat of his heart, the safety of his embrace made everything feel less terrifying. you burrowed deeper into his arms, letting the soft fabric of his hoodie and the strength of his hold anchor you. you looked up at him through tear-streaked lashes, his face illuminated by the soft lamplight. his words, his presence, made you feel like maybe, just maybe, everything would be alright.

sunoo didn’t say a word at first. he didn’t need to. his arms tightened around you, holding you as if he could shield you from the sadness that clung to you. he rested his chin on the top of your head, his steady breathing a rhythm that slowly started to soothe the chaos swirling inside you. his fingers gently threaded through your hair, soft strokes, as if each touch was meant to remind you he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere.

"it’s okay, let it out," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, but filled with so much warmth it almost made your chest ache. "i’m here. i’ll stay as long as you need me." his words weren’t rushed or forced, just a quiet truth, something solid in the midst of all the uncertainty that weighed down on you.

you could feel the wetness of your tears soaking through his hoodie, but he didn’t seem to care. he only held you closer, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head, guiding it into the curve of his neck. you felt so small in his arms, but somehow, the pain felt a little less suffocating. the ache in your heart was still there, throbbing with every beat, but sunoo’s warmth kept you grounded, kept you from feeling like you were drowning.

"i know it hurts," he murmured into your hair, his breath warm against your scalp, "but you don’t have to go through it alone, okay? we’ll get through this together. i’ve got you." his voice cracked just the tiniest bit at the end, and you realized how much it hurt him to see you like this. but there wasn’t a trace of frustration or helplessness in his touch, only unwavering patience.

time seemed to stretch on endlessly, the minutes blending together as you cried into his arms. the room was still, the only sounds the faint ticking of the clock and your quiet sobs, slowly easing into shallow breaths. you clung to him, needing the solidness of his body, the reassurance of his touch.

"it’s going to be okay," he repeated softly, like a mantra. "i promise, y/n. i’ll be here every step of the way." he shifted slightly, just enough to pull you closer, his hand now cupping your cheek, brushing away the tears with the pad of his thumb. his eyes, warm and filled with nothing but concern, searched your face, making sure you were really there, really okay.

"i know it doesn’t feel like it right now," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, "but one day, it won’t hurt as much. and when that day comes, you’ll look back and see how strong you are. but until then, lean on me. i’ll carry as much of this for you as i can."

his words washed over you like a balm, his presence a refuge from the pain that felt too heavy to bear. you didn’t have the strength to respond, but you didn’t need to. sunoo understood. he always did. he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than usual, as if trying to seal his promise with that one tender gesture.

slowly, the sobs subsided, leaving behind a quiet, aching stillness. your breathing steadied, and though the pain hadn’t left, it felt more bearable in the cocoon of his arms. you rested your head against his chest, listening to the soft, steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and let yourself be held, let yourself find comfort in his unwavering presence.

"just stay here with me," you whispered, your voice shaky and fragile. "don’t leave."

sunoo hugged you even tighter, his chin resting on your shoulder now. "i’m not going anywhere," he whispered back, his voice filled with so much certainty that, for the first time in what felt like forever, you believed him. you closed your eyes, letting yourself melt into his embrace, and for a brief moment, the heartbreak seemed distant, something outside the walls of this small, quiet world the two of you had created.

slowly, the tension in your body eased as you stayed wrapped in his arms, the warmth of his chest steady against your cheek. you let out a shaky breath, feeling a small sliver of calm begin to take root amidst the chaos. sunoo's presence was enough, his quiet reassurances and the gentle rhythm of his breathing pulling you back from the edge of your heartbreak. after a moment, you pulled back slightly, enough to lift your head and meet his gaze.

sunoo’s hand moved gently from your back to your face, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw with the same delicate care he’d shown all night. he tilted your chin up slightly, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. the room felt impossibly quiet, like the world outside had faded completely, leaving only the two of you in this small, warm space.

“you know,” he began softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “i’ve always admired you. not just for how strong you are… but for everything else. your kindness. your smile. the way you care for others, even when you’re hurting.”

his thumb brushed lightly across your cheek, the touch so tender that it made your heart stutter. “you don’t even realize how special you are, do you?” he asked, his eyes softening as they moved over your face, taking in every detail as if he wanted to memorize you in this moment. “and not just on the inside… you’re beautiful. you always have been.”

his words sank into you, deeper than you expected, and you felt a warmth bloom in your chest, something soft but undeniable. it was like he was seeing through all the pain, all the exhaustion, to the person you weren’t sure was still there anymore. and for the first time in a while, you felt seen. truly seen.

his hand stayed on your cheek, his palm warm against your skin, and you found yourself leaning into it slightly, as if you couldn’t help but be drawn closer to him. there was something magnetic about him in this moment—the way his gaze held yours, the way his touch seemed to chase away the cold that had been sitting inside you all night. you felt a strange pull, a quiet longing that you didn’t quite know how to name, but it was there, growing with every second you spent in his arms.

sunoo’s thumb brushed across your lips, just the faintest touch, but it sent a shiver through you. “i’m sorry you’ve been through so much,” he murmured, his voice even softer now. “but i promise… i’ll be here. i’ll always be here.”

there was something in his eyes, something deeper, that made your breath hitch in your throat. it wasn’t just reassurance anymore—there was a tenderness there, a kind of closeness that went beyond simple comfort. it felt like he was opening up a part of himself to you, something that had always been there, just waiting for you to notice.

and you did notice. suddenly, you were acutely aware of how close he was, of how his hand cradled your face with such care, of the way his gaze flickered down to your lips for just a split second before meeting your eyes again. the pull between you grew stronger, an invisible thread drawing you closer, until it was impossible to ignore.

your heart raced as you watched him, your mind spinning with the realization that you weren’t just seeking comfort anymore—you were seeking him. the closeness, the warmth, the way his words made you feel seen and understood… it all made you want to close the distance, to move closer, to let yourself fall into this strange but undeniable connection.

sunoo’s breath was shaky as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours so softly, it was almost like a question. the kiss was light, tentative, and for a moment, you froze. your eyes widened, surprised by the suddenness of it, your heart skipping a beat. it wasn’t what you had expected, not tonight, not like this. but even in your surprise, you didn’t pull away.

his lips were warm, soft, and his touch was so gentle it felt like he was afraid of pushing too far. but you didn’t move. you didn’t want to. something inside you was holding you there, caught in the moment, unable to back away.

sunoo pulled back first, his eyes wide with realization. “oh—i’m sorry,” he stammered, his voice full of regret. “i didn’t mean to… i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” his hands moved to your shoulders, as if to steady you, his eyes full of worry. “i shouldn’t have—”

but before he could finish, you found yourself reaching for him. your fingers brushed his cheek, stopping him mid-sentence. your mind was still reeling, but your heart knew what it wanted. without thinking, you leaned in, closing the gap between you. this time, the kiss wasn’t a question. it was an answer.

your lips met his softly at first, a gentle press that quickly deepened into something more. it wasn’t rushed or urgent, but it was full of emotion—a quiet desperation, a need for closeness that had been building all night. sunoo’s hands moved from your shoulders to your waist, pulling you gently towards him as his lips moved with yours in a slow, careful rhythm.

you felt his warmth seep into you, the soft heat of his hands as they slid up from your waist to your sides, his touch careful but sure. each movement was filled with tenderness, his fingers brushing your skin like he was afraid to break the moment, but at the same time, unable to let go.

your own hands found their way to his face, your fingers tangling gently in his hair as you kissed him back, matching his slow, steady pace. it was like nothing else existed in the world—just the two of you, the quiet hum of the room, and the soft press of his lips against yours. the warmth of him, the safety you felt in his arms, was overwhelming. you hadn’t realized how much you’d needed this—needed him—until now.

sunoo’s hands moved again, this time one slipping up to cup your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek as he kissed you, his touch so full of care that it made your chest ache in the best way. the other hand stayed on your waist, holding you close, anchoring you to him in a way that felt both protective and intimate.

you could feel his heart racing, the steady thrum beneath his skin matching the rhythm of your own. there was something so gentle, so patient, in the way he kissed you, like he was taking his time, making sure every moment was soft, every touch full of meaning. his lips moved slowly, carefully, as if he wanted to savor every second of this closeness.

the kiss deepened, but never lost its gentleness. his hand moved from your face to your hair, his fingers threading through the strands as he kissed you with a quiet intensity. every touch, every soft brush of his lips, made you feel warmer, safer, like the world outside didn’t matter as long as he was here with you.

you melted into him, your body softening against his as the kiss continued, slow and tender. his hands explored your sides, your back, his touch never straying too far, but always grounding you in the moment. you felt cherished, held in a way that made you believe, if only for now, that everything would be okay.

eventually, the kiss slowed, but neither of you pulled away. your foreheads rested together, breaths mingling as you stayed close, his hands still cradling you gently. sunoo’s eyes fluttered open, meeting yours with a softness that made your heart ache all over again.

“i… i don’t know what this means,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, “but… i’m here. and i’ll keep being here… as long as you need me.”

his words, the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the quiet comfort of being held—it all made you feel something you hadn’t felt in a long time. safe. wanted. and maybe, just maybe, like you could let yourself fall into this, into him, without fear.

the room felt suspended in time, the quiet hum of the city outside dimming until it was just the two of you, lost in each other’s presence. your head rested on sunoo’s chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing soothing, like the softest lullaby. you looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and a small smile tugged at your lips. there was something so tender in the way he looked back at you, his eyes full of warmth and affection that made your heart flutter.

sunoo’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go. his voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but it filled the space between you with a kind of sweetness that made your chest feel light.

“you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his hand gently caressing your arm, his thumb brushing over your skin in slow, soothing strokes. “i’ve always thought so… even when you don’t see it yourself.”

his words made your smile widen, a warmth blooming inside you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. you nestled closer to him, your heart beating steadily in time with his. it was easy to get lost in this moment, the way he held you, the way his voice was like a soft caress against your skin.

“you deserve so much more,” he continued, his eyes never leaving yours. “more love, more happiness. and i’ll make sure you have that. even if it’s just for tonight, i’ll give you everything i can.”

his forehead rested against yours for a moment, his breath mingling with yours, his fingers still trailing gently up and down your arm. it felt like you were in your own little world, shielded from the rest of the universe by the warmth of his embrace. sunoo kissed your forehead softly, his lips lingering there for a few seconds, as if trying to absorb every ounce of pain you had carried. his other hand slipped up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheek as he kissed you there again, whispering sweet nothings into your skin.

you couldn’t help but smile, the soft affection between you making your heart swell. without thinking, you leaned up and pressed your lips to his again, just a quick peck, something so innocent yet full of meaning. when you pulled back, sunoo chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling in the corners as a small laugh escaped you too.

for a moment, everything was light again, like the weight of the world had been lifted. but then the silence settled over you once more, and you found yourselves staring into each other’s eyes, the connection between you deepening with every second that passed. the air felt charged with something you couldn’t quite name, something that made your heart race and your breath hitch.

you leaned in first this time, and your lips met his again, the kiss soft but full of emotion. sunoo’s arms tightened around you, and you felt his body shift slightly, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as he kissed you back with a slow, deliberate tenderness. it wasn’t rushed, but it was filled with a kind of quiet longing that made your heart skip a beat.

somehow, without either of you realizing it, you found yourselves shifting positions. sunoo moved carefully, his hands never leaving your body as he gently guided you back onto the sofa. you sank into the cushions, your back pressed against the soft fabric, and sunoo hovered above you, his knees on either side of your hips as he leaned down, his lips brushing yours again. he was careful, keeping most of his weight off you, his body hovering close but never pressing down.

the kiss deepened, his lips moving against yours in a slow, intoxicating rhythm. his hands slid from your waist to your sides, his touch gentle but full of purpose, like he was savoring every moment of this closeness. you could feel the heat of his body above you, the warmth of his breath against your skin, and it made your head spin in the best way.

your hands found their way to his shoulders, then his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss grew more passionate. it wasn’t rushed, but there was a quiet urgency between you now, a need to feel more of each other, to hold on tighter to this moment. sunoo’s lips left yours for just a second, trailing down to the curve of your jaw, then to the soft skin of your neck. his kisses were light, tentative, like he was testing the waters, waiting for your response.

you didn’t pull away, didn’t flinch. instead, you let your hands slide into his hair, your fingers tangling gently in the strands as his lips brushed against your skin. the sensation sent a shiver through you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable—it was something else entirely, something warm and inviting.

sunoo must have felt it too, because after a moment, he returned to your lips, capturing them in another slow, tender kiss. this time, his hands moved up to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing gently across your cheeks as he kissed you with the same gentle intensity as before. there was something so soft, so reassuring in his touch, like he was reminding you that he was here, that you weren’t alone anymore.

between kisses, his lips hovered just above yours, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, “your touch… it’s unlike anything i’ve ever felt before. it’s like… you were made for this, for being held like this.”

his words made your chest tighten, your heart swelling with something you couldn’t quite name. the tenderness in his voice, the way he spoke to you like you were the most precious thing in the world, made you feel more seen and more cherished than you had in a long time.

you kissed him again, your lips seeking his with a newfound hunger, and sunoo responded in kind, his hands moving from your face to your waist, then back up to your sides, cradling you gently as if you were something fragile. each kiss was slow, deliberate, filled with a kind of care that made you feel safe, protected. his lips moved with yours in perfect sync, the connection between you growing deeper with every passing second.

the warmth of his body, the softness of his touch, the gentle rhythm of his kisses—it all made you feel like you were floating, like you were wrapped in a cocoon of comfort and affection that you never wanted to leave. and in that moment, as you lay there with sunoo, the world outside faded away completely, leaving only the two of you, lost in each other’s touch, in each other’s warmth.

as you lay beneath him, the gentle rhythm of his lips on yours began to stir something deeper inside. the tenderness, the warmth—it was no longer enough. there was a magnetic pull, a craving that grew with every brush of his lips. you felt it in the way sunoo’s hands roamed your sides, a bit more deliberate, his fingers pressing slightly harder as though he too was feeling the same urgency between you.

sunoo’s kisses trailed lower, down your jaw to your neck, and you couldn’t help the soft sigh that escaped you. he was so careful, his lips barely grazing your skin at first, then growing bolder, leaving a trail of delicate, wet kisses down the curve of your neck. your hands slid up into his hair, tangling in the soft strands, encouraging him as he moved, his lips pressing deeper, lingering longer, until you felt the faintest tug of teeth.

his breath was warm against your skin, his kisses shifting lower as he pulled at the collar of your blouse, just enough to expose your collarbone. your heart raced as he kissed there, the sensation of his lips making your body respond in ways that made your chest tighten. sunoo’s kisses were slow and intentional, his mouth working its way across your skin, each kiss sending a ripple of warmth through you.

his lips hovered for a moment, just beneath your ear, and he whispered softly, “i want to take care of you… all of you.”

the words sent a shiver down your spine, a shiver that only deepened when his mouth returned to your neck, leaving the faintest of marks in his wake, barely noticeable but there, a silent claim. your breath hitched as his lips found the hollow at the base of your throat, and he pulled your blouse aside a little more, giving himself access to your collarbone. his kisses there were slower, wetter, each one pulling a small, soft gasp from you.

your fingers trembled as they made their way to the hem of his hoodie, your mind spinning with the heat of his touch. you hesitated for a moment, your fingers pausing, but the craving to feel more of him—his warmth, his skin—overpowered any doubts. with a slow, tentative movement, you tugged the fabric up, exposing the firm muscles beneath.

sunoo’s body was sculpted, each line of his chest and abs defined, and your gaze was instantly drawn to the sight of him. he noticed your stare, a soft chuckle escaping him, his lips curling into a small smirk that made your heart race even faster. he grabbed your hand, his touch gentle yet firm, and guided it to his chest. pressing your palm flat against the hard planes of his skin, he leaned in, his voice low, teasing.

“go on,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “i’m not going anywhere.”

the warmth of his skin under your fingers was electric, his heart beating steadily beneath your touch. you smiled, feeling more confident, and sunoo’s smirk only deepened as he watched you, his gaze never leaving yours.

before you could think twice, you shifted positions again, moving so that you were straddling him, your legs on either side of his hips. his back rested against the sofa, his hands finding your waist, holding you steady as you moved on top of him. your heart pounded in your chest, the intimacy of the moment overwhelming, but the way sunoo’s hands gripped your hips, the way his lips found your shoulder, made you feel like you were exactly where you belonged.

he leaned in, his mouth once again trailing a line of slow, wet kisses down your shoulder and across your collarbone. the space he had exposed earlier was now his playground, and every kiss, every press of his lips, sent a new wave of heat rushing through you. your breath came in shallow gasps, your hands gripping his shoulders as he worked his way lower, his kisses more insistent, more demanding.

with trembling fingers, you reached for the hem of your blouse, pulling it over your head and letting it fall to the floor. you wanted to give him more—more access, more of yourself. the vulnerability of the moment was overwhelming, but sunoo’s touch, his gaze, made you feel safe.

his hands slid from your waist to your back, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine as his lips moved back up to meet yours. there was a hunger now, a shared desire that neither of you could deny. his kisses were deeper, more passionate, his hands gripping your waist as if to ground himself in the heat of the moment.

the heat between you was palpable, the desire undeniable, yet sunoo remained so careful, so attentive to your every move, every reaction. his lips found yours again, and the kiss deepened, his hands roaming your body as he held you close. and in that moment, everything else faded away—the pain, the heartbreak, the doubt. all that remained was the warmth of his body, the softness of his lips, and the undeniable pull that drew you closer to him with every touch.

“you look so beautiful tonight,” he whispered, staring down at your exposed cleavage, the only obstacle keeping him away from your tits being a piece of laced bra. sunoo couldn’t help but smirked, making eye contact with you again before turning you around, your back against his chest. he led you to lean on him, his hands trailing invisible lines on your stomach and reaching the bra wire. “will you let me?” he whispered into your ear.

you nodded, in the intensity of the moment, and threw your head back on his shoulder when his hands found their way under your bra and cupped your tits, sending you butterflies. his hands were firm on your chest, but not forceful. you bit your lower lip as his index fingers touched your nipples each, crossing your legs in response. sunoo smiled at the notice of that, realising he’s just found one of your sensitive spots. his fingers continued teasing your buds, as a heat started to grow between your legs, the sense of wetness being more and more intense.

“do you want me to go harder on them or is this just perfect?” he whispered again, gently continuing with his play. he couldn’t get tired of it, your nipples felt just right between his fingers, your tits fitting in his hands just perfectly, finding their own new owner. “i like it like that” you barely said, afraid to escape a light moan. sunoo nodded, not changing his rhythm or strength on you, fulfilling all of your desires.

feeling your ass keep moving on his lap, the bulge inside his pants started to get more and more noticeable. you felt his hardness pressing against you, a testament to his perpetual attraction to your body. eager to show him your mutual affection, you pressed harder against him, keeping your lips shut with your teeth, holding your whines back. the way his hardened part pushed into your thin leggings caused more wetness to add up, an ocean in your panties.

“you turn me on so much” he confessed, unable to control his whining. his hands slowly left your tits in place, following to open your bra from behind, the piece of cloth falling hopelessly on the floor. “more reasons for my hands to hold you close” sunoo whispered, “but i think there’s something else that wants to be held too”

unhesitant, his right hand went down your body, reaching your most sensitive part. he used two fingers to trail a line between your legs, slowly, firmly, just the right way to tease every single bit of you. then the line turned into a circle, your clit being triggered every few seconds, and your moans couldn’t be hidden anymore. you opened your legs apart, giving him more access to your needy cunt, screaming for his touch under the piece of cloth. he noticed so, and pressed harder until your folds were holding onto the leggings, taking the shape of your perfect pussy.

“so pretty” he whispered softly inside you ear, sending the now-lost-number of shivers from today, through your whole body. his voice sounded incredible itself, but his whispering awakened a whole new emotion within you. sunoo could not take a break from feeling your wetness in his hand, his impatient fingers pushing the leggings harder inside you. "do you want more, y/n?" he gave you the right to choose like the gentleman he is and you nodded in response, unable to control yourself.

it only took a second for him to process your answer and stand up while letting you fall, carefully, on the sofa. his figure was so beautiful in the dim light, every line forming his abs almost shadowing his body in small places. his straight shoulder added more masculinity to his aura while his permanent smirk went down your body, his head facing your clothed cunt.

"let's take these off" and in the next moment, your leggings were nowhere to be found. his breathe, hot enough, was now making your panties even more soaked. he stuck his playful tongue out, reaching closer to your pussy while his eyes did not leave yours at all, not for a single minute.

you looked down at him and smiled naively, just as his tongue dragged a wet line along your panties, going from bottom to your clit. he paid extra attention to it, giving it an additional lick to end the first round. you trembled at his touch, your lips covered in biting marks now.

impatiently, sunoo pulled your panties aside, a new image raising ahead of him. “you have such a pretty pussy, sweetheart” he whispered again, giving it a quick lick to make your body shake. he giggled and continued with a second one, this time slower and more precise, his eyes on you still. and then the simple up and down line became a whole maze, his adventurous tongue exploring every single bit of you. and as he felt his tongue wasn’t doing enough to satisfy his taste, sunoo started taking your cunt inside his mouth, feeling your flavour down his throat.

he rolled his eyes back at the taste of that and continued to eat you hungrily, moaning inside you. his hands were now holding onto your thighs firmly, dragging them closer so we could bury his face deeper inside you. on the other side, you threw your head back, whining his name aloud. without hesitation, you pushed his head deeper inside, only receiving more moans from him. not only his moans were loud, but the way he was eating out, like he has been so starved for your taste for years.

“you taste like sugar” he raised his head to say, winking at you teasingly. you giggled and hid your face behind your hands, shy now more than ever. he noticed so and came closer to your face, his fingers trailing along your inner thighs. “want to feel my fingers, baby?” he asked, biting your earlobe softly, but enough to get a whine out of you. you nodded again, unable to find your words, and that’s all it took for him to push his fingers all the way inside you pussy, without any warnings or adjustments.

“sunoo-ya!!” you screamed, your arms around his neck and gazing at his beautiful, precious smile, which turned into a smirk as his fingers rushed to slide outside and inside you, no break, no question, just him aggressively taking over your cunt. it felt so good words couldn’t be formed anymore, regardless of your tries to call out his name. you couldn’t do anything but stutter, eyes rolling back more and more and arms growing weaker around his neck.

“do you like them inside you?” he asked, almost aware of your impossibility to say a word. you tried to nod, again, but not even that was an option anymore. you clenched around his fingers, legs shaking in pleasure. sunoo left more wet kisses around your neck and collarbone, reaching your breasts again. unlike before, now it was his teeth that teased your nipples, nibbling and playfully pulling them towards him. his mouth, unable to resist, took your left tit inside, sucking on it like a baby. which was way too ironic, considering how ruined your pussy was by now, his fingers still going.

“s-sunoo, please s-stop” you managed to say quietly. “shhhh, baby” he whispered, boob still inside his mouth, licking around it loudly and moaning softly. “tonight i am crazy over you” sunoo confessed, as he finally gave your wetness a break, and licked his fingers. “tastes like….mine” he chuckled, pushing his fingers inside your mouth and making you suck on them. you did so, feeling your own taste inside your mouth and relishing it.

“you ask me to stop but the way you clench around my hand…says something else”

sunoo kissed your forehead and sat down next to you. he dragged you closer into his chest, a solemn will for his care and took your hand inside his, placing a final kiss on your skin. “you make me go crazy over you, y/n” he whispered, feeling your delicate skin around. “i don’t have a condom right now, but if you want me to make you feel good again,” he took a small break, turning around to gaze into your eyes “i’ll make sure to bring you to heaven next time”

can you tell i was listening to moonstruck in the last part? hope you enjoyed and feedback is highly appreciated 🤍

[spidermasc]

🦝 ➜ 🔞﹒﹒this could be the night of our dreams

synopsis: nat is head over heels for you and she does a horrible job of not showing it. req here autistic!reader, afab!reader, fluff + smut, first times, not proofread.

nat cradles the ceramic bowl close to her heart, staring yearningly at you as you draw abstract figures on a piece of paper shauna gave you. she doesn't know how a simple action of yours gets her to crash so much. still, she feels her body vibrate and her heart soar as you sit by the wooden table and draw.

"stare any harder and i think lasers will come out of your eyes," taissa breaks her out of her thoughts, raising her eyebrows at her love-stricken and dumb expression. tai gives her a slight smirk and nudges her elbow. "god, you're even worse at hiding it than me."

"hiding what?"

"being in love with her. looked like you were about to start floating over with bubbling hearts surrounding you," taissa snorts, watching nat's pale cheek light up with red at her words. "i'd tell you to put a ring on it but you probably already have."

"shut up," nat mumbles, feeling her ears burn. the worst part is that taissa's right; she did put a ring on it. it started out as a wooden ring she made out of boredom, only interested in seeing if she could even make the shape in the first place with the knife and her skills, but it ended up with nat's initials carved on the outside. she sheepishly gave it to you the next day.

it wasn't a proper engagement of course, nor did she intend to actually propose, but it was a heartfelt exchange. nat had told you about all the places she wants to go with you when you get rescued, and she made it a point to say when because you are getting out of here. she told you that she wants to take you to italy, more specifically the city her grandfather grew up in, and take you to only the finest establishments there. she wanted to pretend like she knew any italian and make a fool out of herself when ordering for you and kiss you with spaghetti sauce staining her lips.

all she knows is that she wants to be with you forever, married or not.

you look over to where nat leans on the wooden wall, feeling her stare at you so intently it makes you blush uncomfortably. you've never been good with eye contact so when you catch her gaze for a split second and then droop your head down, she wiggles her fingers at you as if to say, "i know you're looking. hi."

you smile bashfully, covering your ears with your hands as you happy stim. you always find it so embarrassing how she can make you act like this so easily; she can do the simplest things and you're still freaking out over how cute she is. you hear her walk towards you and grip your pencil tighter, finding it hard to keep your emotions in check as she bends down next to you and whispers in your ear: "come to the back room with me?"

once you're settled in bed with her, you lean against the wall and observe her while she plays with your hand. there's a comfortable silence in the air as you run your eyes over her features, taking in every detail you can, like the way her lips rest in a natural pout or the curvature of her nose as she turns away from you and blushes, her bunny teeth on full display as she grins. "you stare an awful lot for someone who doesn't like eye contact," she jokes, bringing your fingers up to her mouth to kiss.

like she said, your eyes zero in on how she peppers each finger with the same amount of kisses and suddenly pull your hand away, making nat's brows furrow in confusion. before she can open her mouth to ask if you're okay, you interrupt her by tugging her body on top of yours. nat's hands slam into the pillow by your head and she chuckles softly at your eagerness, licking her lips as you run your hands over her back and behind.

"i wanna do it with you. i trust you," you mumble vaguely, looking up at nat with so much emotion in your eyes it makes her feel light-headed.

"do it? like... it it?"

as you nod your head, you absentmindedly play with the fabric of her shirt between your forefinger and thumb. nat feels her body flash with something hot as your fingers touch her skin, traveling up ever so slightly as you wait for her response.

"are you sure? i don't wanna pressure you. i only wanna do this if you're absolutely sure that you're ready," nat speaks softly, looking for any sort of hesitation in your eyes.

"i'm sure, nat. i want this. like i said, i trust you."

natalie thinks those are the hottest words you've ever said to her.

her tongue darts out to swipe across her lips and she nods, mumbling a quiet "okay." before slowly leaning down to kiss you. you flush at the sound of your lips meeting and hold onto nat's hips, pulling her flush down onto your lap. she groans softly, and her bleached hair falls down in strands across your face. the feeling makes you recoil and your whole body shake. you hate it.

"mhhhhh," you make a noise of utter disgust as you turn your face from nat's, hands clenching and unclenching as you try to control your breathing.

"what's wrong?" she asks worriedly, knowing your body language all too well. she sits up straight and avoids touching you, telling you reassuring words as she waits for you to calm down enough so you can speak.

"was just your hair tickling me in the wrong way. made me feel bad. 's stupid..." you scoff to yourself, still looking away from her.

"it's not stupid. can i touch you again?" she asks after a few moments of silence.

you nod and she makes sure to tuck the strands of her hair behind her ear before leaning down and giving your nose a gentle kiss. her hands come up to cup your cheek, softly making you face her again before her thumb swipes over your lips. "do you still wanna continue?"

"yes, please," you reply, bringing her back in for a passionate kiss.

soon, all of your clothes are off, and nat's fingers toy with the waistband of your underwear as she looks down at you. her eyes are glossy and dark with lust from the heated makeout session and intense groping that went on before. you bite your lip and glance at the door as she tugs them down to your ankles, a tiny puff of air releasing from your lips as the cold air hits your wetness. nat can't help but stare at your puffy cunt practically drooling for her, begging for her to touch it.

an uncertain finger ghosts over your clit, and you have to slam your hand over your mouth to keep quiet. you and nat both groan at the contact, and she keeps her eyes on you as she parts your lips with her fingers, eagerly awaiting your reaction. "holy fuck," she whispers in awe, her finger submerged in warmth as she prods at your tight hole. "you feel so good."

"nat," you whine, voice muffled by your hand, which she hates. she wants to hear you as she touches you for the first time. so, she removes your palm from your mouth and opens her lips like she's mocking the way your jaw is slack from her finger stuffed in your hole, grinning wildly as she sinks it deeper.

the squelching sound from how wet you are drives nat insane, and in an instant, she's bending her head down to suckle on your clit while she fingers you. you let out a louder than anticipated moan and flush with embarrassment; the girls were sure to hear you. nat's tongue flicks your clit expertly and you wiggle your hips from how good it feels. she smirks at her skills and holds your hip down with her free hand, fully replacing her finger with her mouth as she settles between your thighs.

"feel free to use my head to keep yourself grounded, baby. i wanna be smothered in your wetness."

nat taglist: @nataliescatorcciosactualwife

[angelsleepinggurl]

“𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙.”

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. Your drunk boyfriend fails to realise that you’re the angel taking care of him.

wc. around 892

tags. aki hayakawa x reader. drunkaki x reader. aki hayakawa reader fluff. all characters are 18 years old.

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Stumbling through the door, the two of you barely manage through the doorway, with Aki leaning heavily on you, his weight threatening to pull you both to the floor. For a moment, it feels like you’re going to crash—your foot catches on the edge of the doormat—but you shift just in time, managing to stay upright with Aki slung against you like a ragdoll. His arm slips off your shoulder as he mumbles something incoherent, too far gone to make much sense of the world around him.

"Easy there," you mutter, more to yourself than to him. His head lolls to the side, his loose jet black hair lazily falling down his face’s sides. A content hum vibrates in his throat. He’s out of it, lost in whatever haze alcohol has wrapped him in. You crouch down, easing him against the wall, his back sliding down just slightly as you focus on pulling off his shoes. He watches you with half-lidded eyes, a slight grin on his face as if this whole thing is amusing him.

“You think this is funny yeah? Sicko.” you jokingly mutter under your breath, successfully getting his other shoes off. Makima, your boss, wanted to congratulate the team for their hard efforts. This led to suggestions for the group to out for drinks tonight, something on which you had cooled down, especially since last time’s events. But this time, the new recruit, Denji was here. Drinking and getting himself into all sorts of mischief. It all got a little too much for you when Himeno threw up in his mouth. It got a little too much for Aki when he started singing randomly and becoming really pouty and cuddly, signifying his end. So here you are, struggling to lift your boyfriend to a couch in the living room.

Aki drapes a heavy arm around you before slinking across the couch. He sprawls out like he is made of liquid. Moulding and melting to the structure of the furniture. You let out a soft sigh, standing for a moment to look at him. His hair’s a mess, his cheeks flushed pink, and he’s got this dazed look in his eyes that somehow manages to be endearing. Shaking your head, you head to the kitchen and fill a glass with water. When you return, he hasn’t moved, his arm now dangling off the side of the couch. You set the water on the table, then grab the remote and flip on the TV, settling down beside him.

The TV’s a blur of moving colors, but neither of you are really paying attention to it. Aki shifts beside you, turning his head lazily in your direction. His gaze lingers on you, as if he’s trying to place something, his brow furrowing in this adorably confused way. Your fingers sem to rub against his scalp repetitively, still holding the glass of water.

“You look a lot like my girlfriend,” he mumbles suddenly, his voice thick with sleep and alcohol.

You glance at him, trying to stifle a grin, and reply nonchalantly, “Really?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his eyes narrowing a bit as if studying you more closely. “It’s kinda freaky.”

You stifle a laugh, biting the inside of your cheek. "Do you like your girlfriend?" you ask, your voice casual, as if you’re making small talk, though there’s a slight teasing edge to it.

“I love her,” he says immediately, the words slipping from his lips with a kind of softness that makes your heart flutter. He says it like it's a fact, like it's obvious, something everyone should know. His eyes half-close again, the smallest smile tugging at his lips. “She’s so nice to me. And she’s got this… really pretty hair.” He lifts his hand clumsily, gesturing vaguely at your head. “And she has this amazing laugh. I wish she’d laugh forever.”

You can’t help it—you laugh, just a little, your breath catching in your throat at the sincerity in his voice. Aki’s eyes flicker open at the sound, and for a second, it’s like he’s awake again, aware, noticing you fully. But the moment passes as quickly as it came, and his head drops back down onto the couch cushions.

“I wish my girlfriend was here right now,” he mumbles, his voice wistful.

Something softens inside you at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. His eyes flutter open again, bleary but warm, looking up at you as if he’s not sure what’s real.

"Silly," you whisper, smiling down at him, “I am your girlfriend.”

For a moment, there’s silence. Aki blinks up at you, his brow furrowing as if he’s processing the words. Then, slowly, a grin spreads across his face, lazy and soft, like the realization is just starting to sink in. He lets out a contented sigh, closing his eyes again as his head nestles deeper into your lap.

“I knew that,” he mutters, though there’s a playfulness in his voice that suggests otherwise.

You laugh softly, continuing to run your fingers through his hair. The room falls quiet, the sound of the TV a distant hum in the background. Aki’s breathing evens out, his body relaxing completely against you, his hand resting lightly on your leg as if even in his half-asleep state, he wants to be close to you.

“Love you too, idiot.”

[baronessvonglitter]

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 18 🍒 "I Wanted It To Be You"

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 7,467

Summary: Moving on from Joel, your life takes many unexpected courses: college, marriage.. yet you keep wondering What If..?

(Warnings contain spoilers, so please check beneath the cut if you're curious)

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (the difference is 17 years, and there are a few time skips throughout this chapter), starts in late 2003 and ends in 2023, Angst Angst Angst, brief mention of jailtime, breakup, parental issues, heavy on the mom guilt, underage drinking, dry humping, anonymous drunk sex (never ever do this, folks), vomit, reader going through a slutty era after getting her heart broken (just like Joel in Chapter 14), allusions to smut, time skips (labeled), panic attack, mention of drugs and alcohol, rough sex, creampie, surprise pregnancy, infidelity, lil bit of a makeout sesh with Tommy, semi-public sex, pussy pronouns, light degradation, Ellie is Joel's daughter, mention of cyberstalking (not as serious as it sounds), mention of reader having a therapist, Joel and Tess are married. If I left anything out, please LMK!

Author's Note: this took forever to write because the more I edited the more I wanted to add. And I know this chapter has quite a few time skips, I just wanted to highlight the important parts as much as I could. ALSO: I apologize for the unrealistically speedy law process at the beginning. I have no idea how that situation would pan out, but it would almost definitely drag out for months if not years.

So much angst here, but now the reader is all grown up! I wanted to add the convo with Sarah but this chapter was already getting so long, and I think it'll fit better in the next installment anyway.

Series Masterlist

"I would've said yes."

You've lost count of how many voicemails you leave Joel, who's been ignoring your calls, but this is the only time you say it, that you admit your love could have gone a different way if you'd just gotten back to that hotel room together.

You replay that night over and over in your head, but with different endings. In a perfect world, your father would never have even been there in the first place. In a separate, less perfect world, you would not have called out to him, just ignored him the way he ignored you. Then you'd have some peace of mind, and you'd belong with the man you love.

Each time you call Joel, you expect to hear his gruff voice on the other end of the line. And soon enough the ringing stops and goes straight to voicemail, where you leave him the words of your bleeding, broken heart:

"I would've said yes."

You haven't taken the ring out of its box, worried you'll jinx whatever luck you have left. Joel is supposed to kneel, take your hand in his, and place the ring on your finger. You've never envisioned what getting engaged would look like, but it definitely bears some semblance to tradition.

When Chris refused to press charges, the law stepped in and did it for him. Thirty days in the Bexar County Jail is what they sentenced Joel. That was why you couldn't reach him, why you felt like you were hitting a brick wall. It's a relief when you're finally able to speak to him.

"I'm so sorry," you cry to him over the phone, his voice like a warm and soothing balm. You imagine yourself curling into his embrace, allowing his arms to enfold you, make you small and safe, hidden from the dangers and ugliness of the world.

"You ain't got nothin' to be sorry for," he grunts.

"I love you." You sound pitiful over the phone but you don't care. "Joel, let me come see you and we can work it out. Please."

He sighs. "I got somethin' I need to tell you. Might change your mind how ya feel about me."

"What?" you ask quickly, your young mind scrambling to imagine what he could say, as if to fortify your already shattered heart. Your stomach sinks, nausea threatening to make the bile rise in your throat. "Joel, what is it?"

He's quiet for awhile and when he speaks it's monotone. "I've been seein' someone else."

It sounds like he's speaking a foreign language. You shake your head, looking at your wall calendar. It's only December. You last saw him in late September. The biblical manger scene on the church calendar your mom put on the fridge is an evil harbinger of time now lost.

"Who?" you ask, dreading the answer.

"Doesn't matter," he says gruffly, sounding uncomfortable.

"Tell me who," you insist.

With a deep sigh he relents. "Hailey."

Again, it's like hearing a foreign language. "Hailey? The girl I worked with? The one who went to Sarah's party? That Hailey?"

"Yeah."

"How.. how did this happen?"

"Ran into her at a bar my first night out of jail. I was lonely and she was.. she was there for me."

"What do you mean? Did you-" you take a moment to breathe, try not to let your emotions take over.

"I slept with her. That's all it is between us, just fuckin'."

It's like a punch in the gut. No, worse. It's a blade plunging into your heart over and over.

In a blur of upset and disappointment, you utter the words of anyone who's ever had a broken heart: "How could you do this to me?"

There's no answer for it from his side. His refusal to go into detail feels like he's hiding his fling with Hailey on purpose, withholding part of his new life to you, but you never stop to think he might be saving you from the pain he knows is due.

You cry after hanging up on him. You cry more than you did when he left you in San Antonio. You cry until you can no longer see because your eyes are puffy, nearly tiny slits that still somehow shed tears when you think of Joel with your ex-friend.

Once the sadness has been cried out, there remains only rage, simmering and profound. With small, practiced movements, you take the engagement ring in its box and mail it to Joel's address. No note, and no explanation needed.

"You're not yourself," your mom mentions one night when you push your plate away, your dinner barely touched.

"Not hungry," you mumble.

She sighs in exasperation. "I don't know what to do with you. You won't talk to me." She pushes her own plate away and downs the rest of her cheap wine. "You come home from God-knows-where, with a damn bruise on your face."

You touch your cheek where your father had accidentally knocked you backwards, wishing it was the only physical pain you endured from that night.

"..you don't bother with the chores anymore, you lock yourself away in your room, probably not even studying. Do you even attend classes anymore? Do you even care about your future?" she continues.

"No," you say quite simply.

"No??"

You shake your head and shrug, as if answering something as easy as 'do you want to watch a movie later?'

"I don't. Give. A shit."

Anita scoffs, refilling her glass. "Great. That's just great. Maybe I'll drink this entire bottle and give myself alcohol poisoning. Then I wouldn't have to deal with your shitty attitude anymore."

The scrape of your chair as you push away from the table is as loud as nails on a chalkboard. "You want me to talk? I'll talk." You lean forward, relishing this moment where your mom looks scared as shit.

"I said I was in College Station, but I lied. I was fucking Joel every weekend I was away. We met up in hotel rooms and fucked each other's brains out. And the best part of it all was that he loved me," your voice breaks but you're wickedly delighted by the look of shock and disgust on your mother's face.

You're on a tirade now that can't be stopped. "Two months ago I found Dad in San Antonio. I did," you nod, a psychotic kind of laughter breaking from you when she gawks. "And do you know what? He's forgotten all about us. He has a new family, new kids, new young wife. And he doesn't give a shit about you or me. He never really has, has he?" You realize you're standing, towering over her as you spit out all the venom she's ever poured into you right back at her.

"Now.. how does it feel to have the truth shoved in your face? To be deprived of the fantasy world you wanted so badly to live in, cushioned by your idiotic pretenses? Because I'll bet you could've gone your whole life not knowing, staying innocent. Well, Mother Dearest, fuck you."

Without a word you pack your things, your body moving way ahead of your brain, stuffing every necessary item into a couple of bags before you leave her house, with the intention to never return again.

Summer 2004 Louisiana

Staying with friends in a shitty apartment, you finish the rest of the semester before transferring to another school. Three schools in one year probably isn't a very good look on your transcript, but it's the first choice you make that is truly your own. Working two jobs over the summer you finally have the money you need to survive as you begin a new chapter in Louisiana.

You do everything in your power to get over Joel. The first step was deleting his number from your phone, even though you've already memorized it by heart. To be safe, you also delete Tommy's number, and Sarah's. It feels final, and a small part of you wishes they could get a notification informing them you no longer consider them important enough to keep, even as data.

It still stings when you think of Joel with Hailey. She's older, more experienced, and can probably do whatever he wants without being asked. After you've deleted the Millers from your contact list, you hover over Hailey's name, pressing it and, in a moment of antagonism, send her a text. I thought you were my friend, Turns out you're just a fucking slut Then you delete and block her number.

Dating other guys doesn't come very easy. It's as if they can smell the heartbreak on you, sense your loneliness and unease, the untempered anger simmering below the surface of your smile. You're a walking red flag and you know it, but that doesn't stop you.

You grind on a guy at a club after he buys you a few appletinis. Never mind that he's twenty five and trying to get you drunk so you'll fuck him. With your twenty-dollar Charlotte Russe dress hiked up as you drag your sopping panties over his clothed hardness, he sucks the apple flavor off your tongue, one hand gripping your hips while the other slips inside your underwear to rub your clit and you come for the first time in months. So loud, in fact, that you're caught and promptly kicked out of the club. When your partner (you never remember his name) asks to continue at his place, you decline, already walking to the next bar.

Once the high wears off, you are consumed with guilt as you think of Joel. What would he say if he found out? Would he even care? Maybe he's fucking Hailey right now.

And it hits you that it's already been a year since you first slept with him.

You pause in the middle of the street, coming back to earth when a car honks at you, cursing at you to hurry up and fucking move dumb bitch!

Walking on, you can't get the memory of the feel of Joel out of your head: the way his tongue licked into your mouth, fingers traveling down to play between your folds, telling you he needed you nice and wet before he fucked you, those thick fingers slipping in and playing you like a well tuned instrument, his lips gliding over your throat, resting just above your pulse point, then finding their way down the slope of your breasts, taking each nipple between his lips, his beard rasping against your skin.

You try to force the thought away, but it returns manifold. His mouth, the stiffened warmth of his tongue lapping at your cunt, drinking up every fucking drop and telling you you taste so sweet. He doesn't stop until you come more than once, finally fitting himself inside you, teasing you with the first few inches. Sure you can handle the rest, babygirl? before sliding in in one smooth thrust, joining you body and soul, moving against you just how you need.

You cover your face with your hands and wander into an alley, overcome with despair at the loss of your love, the loss of what innocence you thought you had. Both of those things given to someone who only saw fit to fuck you as he wished and discard when he couldn't handle the reality of your personal life.

"Are you okay?" a voice asks, approaching softly from behind. You turn and see a man, another college student like yourself, dressed in jeans and a striped button down. His features blur together until all you hear is his soft Southern accent and all you smell is his Curve cologne. The next thing you know you're kissing him, begging him to touch you, fuck you, and then he's spinning you to face the wall, dress hiked up, panties pulled down. Your arms support you against the wall as he pushes into you from behind and all you think about is him fucking the pain away, pumping into you hard and fast. He's nowhere near as big as Joel, but you've been so touch starved that the sounds coming out of your mouth are shameless.

Without warning you vomit, splashing your shoes and the wall in front of you with appletini puke, and the guy pulls out immediately, getting away from you as fast as he can, tucking himself back into his jeans.

You rest your forehead against the cool brick wall, spitting out the sour taste in your mouth as tears weep freely from your eyes.

September 2004

At the start of sophomore year you're the only one who doesn't have family come down to help move in, to visit with and take silly, memorable photos with. Nobody comes to your dorm and helps you decorate and put your belongings away. By the time your assigned roommate comes with her parents and little brother you're already set up, fresh sheets on your twin bed, your side already claimed.

You're reading when she comes in, a young girl, freshman, with hope in her eyes, excited to meet you, looking forward to her new life away from Montana or Missouri or wherever she says she's from. You're barely listening.

Who you do notice is her dad: mid-forties, slight beer belly, wearing a polo shirt and cargo pants with brand new New Balance shoes. You make eye contact immediately before he shifts his gaze away. His daughter, your new roommate Jessica, starts to unpack, asking you questions about the classes, what student groups to join. You offer what advice you can, stretching out on your bed in your tank top and running shorts. Her dad's eyes roam over your curves when his wife and kids aren't looking, and you unabashedly flirt back, making sure your shorts ride up, pulling down your tank just a little to expose more cleavage.

Once they leave for a quick tour around the campus you're back to your reading.

Jessica's dad comes back. Alone.

"I think I forgot my wallet in here," he says, giving a forced look of timidity as he checks his pockets.

"You didn't," you smirk, putting your book down and sitting up. "But you can stay if you want.."

He doesn't make an excuse about his family and you wouldn't care if they walked in anyway. Once the door is locked his hands are on your body, grabbing your ass while your hand goes down his pants. You tell him exactly what will make you come, and he does it so willingly it almost touches your heart.

Later as he's leaving and you're trying to get his cum off your bedsheets, he's asking you not to say anything to his daughter, as if you'd proudly exclaim that you fucked him, having barely remembered his name.

You're learning that a lot of men are the same at their very core.

You're a fantasy for the older ones, a college coed with daddy issues and an IUD. Having already been with an older man, you know just what they like, and when you give it you live for the way their eyes light up, and a little of their youth comes back to them for a moment.

It's almost pitiful how easy you figure out the opposite sex. Once you know what they want it's easy to become that, to dress how they want, to feign interest in the things they like, even to keep your thoughts to yourself. You learn to live inside your head, which until now has been the hardest thing to do.

But it's necessary when you're holding onto the headboard of some frat guy's bed while fake moaning as he's holding your hips, going as fast as he can because that's what they do in porn. Each and every guy has a Scarface poster above the bed, or Playboy centerfolds taped to the walls, neon lava lamps on the nightstand along with CDs by Kanye West, Franz Ferdinand, or Velvet Revolver. Your thoughts are elsewhere as you give halfhearted head.

You learn to feel nothing, not even pleasure, because they certainly can't tell that you fake every sigh and gasp.

But the older men, the professors, TA's, even men you meet off campus at the bars in town.. they are what interest you. It's not common for you to find yourself bent over a desk during your professor's office hours, or with your panties around your ankles when a one-on-one study session turns to something else.

You fuck men who remind you of Joel because you can't fuck Joel. It's his hands on you instead of theirs, his breath hot on your ear.. but no one else can fill the part of you that Joel hollowed out for himself when he made you his on a hot Texas summer night.

Though you think about him every day, soon enough, you start to wonder whether he was ever even real, or just someone you made up.

March 2006

Spring Break finds you at a beach house on the coast. The friends you came with are nowhere to be found, and you're pretty sure your drink is laced with something. The music is so loud that you hurry out into the night, seeking solace before the roaring waters of the gulf, black water topped with silver waves. Their rushing sound is soothing, yet you sink to your knees because your world is too heavy.

"I'm dying," you whisper to yourself, crying. Your chest feels tight. It's so hard to breathe, and it feels like your heart will explode.

Only one person on the entire planet comes to mind, and after all this time you still remember his number. You dial it, fingers savoring the press of each button on your phone. How many times have you called Joel and hung up before he could answer? There have been a couple of times when you dialed him while having sex, not sure if he ever picked up, hoping that he heard you moving on and moving away from him. That'll show him.

But you can't even breathe to talk to him. And what if he doesn't answer? What if he's changed his number?

You leave all his numbers entered on the screen but you don't hit the call button. Not yet. You have to think of something to say. Tell him you love him before your body rejects the air it's trying so desperately to claim into your lungs.

"Hey, are you all right?" a gentle voice asks behind you, and a hand is on your shoulder.

You flashback to that night in the alley, the guy who took advantage of you, but this time it doesn't go that way.

A man with soulful eyes and a kind smile kneels next to you, his hand remaining on your shoulder. "I think you're having a panic attack. Can I help you with that?" His voice is as kind and gentle as he looks, and you nod.

"Can you breathe for me? Like this." He inhales deeply and slowly, and when you try it it feels so foreign but you manage it.

"There you go," he says quietly. "Now breathe out.."

Soon he has your breathing back to normal, and you don't have to force your body to do what it naturally does.

"Tell me five things you can see," he continues.

A shaky breath in. Hey, at least it's a breath. "Um.. the water.. the sand.. the moon.. you.."

That's when you get your first good look at him, beyond the smile that works its warmth into your heart, and the eyes that search yours, exuding humanity that you haven't experienced in a long time. He's really cute. You can't deny that your heart skips a couple of beats.

"One more thing?" he says, his voice soft.

You snap back to reality. "Uh.. a ship.. out there in the distance?"

He glances behind him at the water, seeing the great big liner, possibly a cruise ship, on the inky horizon, and takes a seat next to you. "How are you feeling now?" he asks.

"Good.. I think. Better." You nod. "Thank you."

"May I?" he lifts your hand from your lap and turns the palm up, his fingers poised above your pulse point. You nod again.

He presses his touch to your wrist, and you watch his eyes calculating, his lips silently moving while counting. Despite everything you've been through the past two years, this is the most intimate thing you've felt.

"Your pulse is normal." He gently places your hand back on your lap. "Do you want to go back to the party or do you want to stay out here a little longer? If you want to go back," he adds, "I'll be with you, make sure you're okay."

You opt to stay on the beach, embracing the quiet for a little longer. This is the first time a man has had you alone and hasn't tried to fuck you. It's nice, for once.

Towards the end of the night he leads you back to the party house, guiding you through the throng of people there, the air rife with alcohol and the pungent aroma of weed. You're holding his hand, you realize as you walk together. He's your lifeline in this very moment. You grab your jacket and purse from one of the bedrooms, passing by couples making out, some slipping into rooms to do much more than kissing. To think you could have easily ended up there with a random guy makes your skin crawl.

"What was your name again?" you shout to him over the music.

"Justin!"

"Dustin?"

"Justin!"

You both laugh. You tell him your name and of course he mishears you.

He drives you to the small motel room you're sharing with your friends who are inevitably crashing at the beach house, too drugged or drunk or fucked to return for the night.

Justin smiles at you as the engine idles. "Is it okay if I ask you out?"

You exchange numbers, your heart thrumming with a pleasant nervousness. You haven't had a boyfriend since..

..not since Joel.

Don't think about him.

"You can reach out to me if you ever just feel like talking," he says. "I'm here."

So you do, and after a week of texting and a couple of late night calls and getting to know each other, you go for a date for the first time in three years.

Justin picks you up in a Honda Civic, and as you get comfy in the passenger seat you breathe in the scent of the black ice air freshener and his spearmint gum. The radio blasts Smashing Pumpkins at a level you know is too much but it only adds to the excitement of the evening.

He's a year older than you, native to Louisiana, and on leave from the Army.

Living just a half hour from your campus, you start to spend much of your time together. Movie dates, dinner dates, and dates where you just drive around, talking about nothing and everything.

You only sleep with him three months into your relationship, desiring to take things slow for once, to know him better than you have ever known anyone.

It's nice. It's like what you see in the movies, two people wrapped up in each other, soft, no words needed. For once your head isn't forced down into the pillow, or your pussy spit on. For once it's just normal, and normal feels so good.

June 2008 New Orleans, LA

Bourbon Street is alive, electric, no matter that it's a Sunday night. People will drift into work tomorrow still drunk on Zombies and Hurricanes. The entire street reeks of piss, but people either don't care or have been here long enough that it no longer harasses their senses. But more often than not, people are having too much of a good time to care.

You're behind the bar at little hole-in-the-wall place, slinging daiquiris and kamikaze shots when you hear a familiar voice and a tap on your shoulder. "Hey there, Cherry."

You turn and your eyes go wide. "Tommy!" You reach over the bar to hug him, nearly spilling a beer on him in the process. "It's been ages! How are you?

He looks older, more mature, even though it's only been five years since you last saw him: he's letting his facial hair grow, but his eyes still sparkle with mirth and kindness. "It's good to see you, girl." He's no longer with Sofia, their romance having ended a few years before, on friendly terms or so your cousin claimed. You always blamed yourself for the demise of their relationship, believing that your breakup with Joel cast a shadow over her own connection with Tommy.

"What are you doing here?" you ask.

"We're good, just here in town, expanding the business."

"We?" Your hands start to shake, and you put away the bottle of gin you have your grasp on. Your heart starts to pound before the next words even leave his mouth.

"Yeah, me and Joel are lettin' off a little steam, wanted to toss back a few before we go back to the hotel."

You feel his eyes on you before you're even aware that he's here. Looking up, at a small table near the entrance, is Joel Miller. Your heart stops, and you don't know how it is you're still alive. He looks you up and down, appraising every feature and detail about you, and you wonder if you've changed in five years or not. You wonder if he still loves or hates you.

"...and we thought this was that bar where girls dance and pour tequila down guys' throats, but this is just as good 'cause you're here."

Tommy manages to snap you out of your trance. "Oh.. you mean Coyote Ugly.."

"Yeah, they opened one in Austin a couple years back but this one ain't never wanna go nowhere," he motions back with his head to Joel.

You return your gaze to the older brother but he's no longer looking at you, his glance dotting along the crowd, following a younger woman as she saunters up to him, smiling, flirting. Your stomach turns and you force a smile at Tommy.

"Whatever you want is on me."

Tommy's smile and laughter is infectious. "You sure about that, Cherry?"

"I'm sure," you say, pouring out a shot for yourself. "You know, nobody's called me that in a long time."

"What's that?" he catches a bright sparkle on your left hand, and quickly takes it within his own. "Cherry, you didn't tell me you were engaged!"

Joel must have one ear straining to listen because Tommy's outburst got his attention right away and he swivels his head to look at you.

"Yeah.. he's a nice guy." That's how you describe Justin to everyone: he's a nice guy. He'd proposed last year after your one year dating anniversary. "He's in the Army, they're shipping him out a week after our wedding. And I'm going with him."

"He's a good guy if he's an Army man," Tommy approves, just as Joel approaches, the woman he was talking to now gone. "So? Are we invited to the weddin'?"

You can't tell if he's teasing or not, and Joel's poker face gives zero indication as well. "I already sent out save-the-dates, but if you'd like to come I won't object. The more the merrier." For the first time you see Joel up close and your heart stutters, an irregular beat that you'd gotten used to in the aftermath of your disastrous breakup.

He's still so fucking handsome: the dark brown of his hair fading to what you can already see as gray, with gray patches in his beard. There are more lines around his eyes. There's still that jolt of electricity when your gazes meet.

"You happy?" he asks, his countenance giving nothing away of his true feelings, so it's difficult to gage whether he's legitimately asking, or simply being nice.

"I'm happy." But it sounds forced, like taking the pliers to your own mouth to fix your own abscess.

Joel only nods as you pour a couple whiskeys for them. "To Cherry getting married!" Tommy beams his salute and the three of you down the shots quickly.

It's sometime after your shift, and you're in the parking lot with Tommy, his arms around you as he presses you to the side of his truck. Or maybe it's Joel's truck. You don't know and you don't care, all you want is to feel something again. The nearness of Joel all night has rewired your brain, and as Tommy deepens the kiss, you're disappointed that it's not Joel's taste, not Joel's scent that surrounds you. Luckily he's not a bad kisser, and his hands roam everywhere you want them to be.

Better the wrong Miller than no Miller at all, your whiskey-soaked brain tells you.

"Always thought you were pretty," he whispers, hands palming your breasts over your shirt. "But you were Joel's from the moment he set eyes on ya, told me so himself. Leave that one alone, she ain't for you.'"

"He didn't want me enough.." your voice cracks as tears spill effortlessly down your cheeks.

"Don't cry," he says gently. "I don't got any tissues with me." He uses his thumb to wipe away your tears. "Still want me to give you a ride home?"

You nod, telling him you need to make a quick trip to the ladies' room to fix your makeup, and in the narrow hallway where the restrooms are hidden from the rest of the bar, you run into Joel.

"Sorry," you mumble, trying to get around him, but he puts his large hand on your shoulder to stop you.

"You gonna take my brother home and fuck him? Then marry some Army jackass?" he says as in disbelief.

You put your guard up, tougher now than you were five years ago. "What I do is my business. By the way, how's Hailey?"

"Who?"

"Don't play dumb." You push past him and start for the women's room to fix your makeup when Joel stops you again.

"You ain't gonna fuck my brother tonight, or any other night, babygirl," he utters.

There's a fire lit under you now. "Oh? What are you, the Morality Police? Fuck off."

"Fuck me," he says. "You know you want to. You're probably wet from Tommy, and I appreciate his gettin' ya ready for me, but I notice the subtler signs: your eyes are glistenin', you've been lickin' your lips every time you look at me, and you probably haven't noticed, but your nipples are pokin' right through your shirt. I bet they're just beggin' for attention, huh?"

He says all this while just standing in front of you, not crowding you like any other guy would. And you realize he's not even trying to rile you up. He's giving you a choice.

"What makes you think I want you? I have a good man who loves me. He's all I need."

"Needs and wants are different, babygirl. Once you're married you're stuck with him til' death. Hope you realize that."

"I'm aware." But it's already hit you: you'll be with Nice Justin for the rest of your life. You'll be a Nice Wife and maintain a Nice Home for the inevitable Nice Kids you'll have. You hate Joel for putting this thought in your head.

"He fuck you like I did?" he asks in an intimate tone.

You shake your head, already pulling him into the restroom with you. "Joel, no one's ever fucked me like you did."

Your body delights in the quick, sweet reunion with him. It's as if time has never separated you, as if both your hearts are whole again. His mouth greedily devours your kisses. He tastes like whiskey and cigarettes, the latter a bad habit. You're shoved into one of the stalls, fumbling with the lock while Joel's hands find their way across your body, one under your shirt, palming your breast, the other going into your jeans, expertly finding your soaked panties, crooking his fingers into your cunt.

Your back is pressed against his broad chest, his cock already hard inside his jeans, rubbing furiously against your lower back until he bends you forward to press against your ass, finally pulling your jeans and panties down in one go.

Too much time has passed for you to be gentle or even careful. He presses you to the stall door, nothing but heat and raw need between you. Words not needed, your only communication grunts and whispered curses that echo against the tiles of the cramped space.

"You ain't takin' no slow and gentle with me, sugar. i ain't got the patience for that right now." He nudges against you and it's a wonder you don't burn up with all the fire that inflames you. After so long it's a labor of love to fit him again, but as his fingers add pressure to your clit you get wetter, opening for him as easily as you did years ago.

"There she is," he says. "Been waitin' for me, been needin' a real man to fill ya up, ain't ya, babygirl?" he huffs in your ear, breath warm against your skin. "Answer me, baby."

"Yes.." your voice comes out in a hiss, your brain only thinking about his cock, the way it stuffs you, the only thing that completes you.

"That's what I thought. These lil' college boys don't know what to do with such a tight, pretty pussy. And neither does your fiance." He hikes one of your legs up, tucking your knee under his arm, keeping you nice and open, watching himself slide in and out of your weeping slit, slamming himself against you as he sinks his thumb into your puckered asshole, eliciting an all-but muffled gasp from you. "I know you called me just so I could listen to them fuckin' ya.. I know you never came with them, not once. This pussy is mine, has been from the very start."

You're no longer a virginal high school grad, and he takes what he wants from you, giving you what he knows you need.

The door opens but he doesn't stop, just quiets his own noises and clamps his hand over your mouth to squelch your sounds. The stall door jiggles and you put your hand over it until the person grumbles and walks away, muttering about having to piss. When they're gone Joel pumps into you relentlessly, chasing his pleasure and yours. He knows by now what will make you come, which combination of touches and kisses make your knees weak and your clit stand at attention.

"Fucking come for me, you little slut," he whispers, his tone almost loving if you didn't know better, and when you let go the pleasure is almost painful. Years of need and pent-up longing are released as your cunt squeezes around his rigid cock, milking him, smiling when you feel the warm spurt of his come as he presses deep at your cervix.

"That's my girl," he says proudly, your come spilling out already, lining his dick with a mix of both of you. "She's wrecked, split wide open like she's meant to be.. gonna send you back to your man drippin' with my come, used up like a good lil' whore."

His words add a sweet sting to the pleasure that has yet to ebb, resounding through your veins like thunder that takes its time in rolling away from the storm. Whore.. well, he's not wrong.

When your heavy breathing has subsided, you feel him start to slip out of you and you put your hand back on his thigh, a silent gesture to hold off.

"Missed you.. needed you," you mutter, tears of joy and relief and heartache brim in your eyes, until you allow the pleasure of the moment to take over without thought or feeling.

"I know.." he says softly, slipping out of you, careful as you're still sensitive.

That could have been the end. You could have gone your separate ways, but you're drawn to each other, and that doesn't go away easily. When you emerge from the rear entrance of the bar, Tommy looks up, and you can tell he expected that you'd end up with Joel instead. He simply nods as you pass him, walking with Joel to the tiny apartment you share with Justin, who's out of town visiting family. And as you and Joel spend the rest of the night locked in each other's embrace, you realize you don't care if he walks in on you, kicks you out, breaks off the engagement. You're with Joel and nothing else matters.

By dawn you wake up to find that he's gone, leaving only the scent of him on the pillow next to you. No note, no explanation, no goodbye. And once again you're sure you only dreamed up Joel Miller, used him as a mental escape for the life you were tying yourself down to.

It's very atypical for you to forgo a period, even at your most stressed, you can count on seeing that bright red stain on the toilet paper around the middle of every month. And when, by mid-July, you haven't even spotted, the first thing you do is take a pregnancy test.

All the men before have been careful, or you've been fortunate enough not to have a scare. But when you finally force yourself to look at the the little blue plus sign developing on the test strip, you realize this is no scare.

You're pregnant with Joel's baby.

The wedding takes place as expected, and your heart sinks when you walk down the aisle, seeing the joy on Justin's face. You've told him the baby is his, and he doesn't doubt it for a moment, that's how much he loves you. But for a fleeting moment you want so bad for it to be Joel at the altar instead.

The ceremony goes by in a blur, as everyone warned you it would. Group pictures are taken, the videographer is capturing the moments that photos alone can't encapsulate.

"Over here, honey!" photographer gets your attention. You barely hear him as you watch a figure walking out, one of the last guests to leave the church. From behind he looks like Joel, but you can't quite tell, and when your eyes fully focus, he's gone, and your own vision can't be trusted.

Tommy gave his regrets that he couldn't attend, and Joel simply never RSVP'd. But in your heart you know it was him, you know he had to come and see for himself that you're moving on, growing up and growing away from him. The only tether you have to him is the baby growing in your belly.

"Front and center, Mrs. Williams," Justin smirks, giving your cheek a soft kiss. "One more picture then we're onto the reception."

March 2009

Your daughter is born in the springtime, a loud and howling child from the moment she leaves you. The only time she's quiet is when she's in your arms.

"We need to decide on a name," Justin says, a little miffed that his daughter cries when he holds her despite his best efforts to soothe her.

"I told you, I like Ophelia," you say, gathering her into your arms to feed her.

"It's such a prissy name. And I can already tell she's not gonna be prissy."

"Then what do you suggest?" you ask tiredly. He doesn't seem to understand you've gone through labor for twenty four hours, only thinking of himself.

"Eleanor, after my mother."

You groan. "I always hated that name."

"Please, babe. It'll make her so happy to have her granddaughter as her namesake."

"Fine. Fine. But her middle name is Ophelia."

"Deal." Justin smiles as he fills out the paperwork.

"Eleanor.." you tell your baby. "But I'm going to call you Ellie."

Your mother once told you that when you become a parent, your life is not your own anymore. She said it as a kind of warning, a prophecy yet to be fulfilled when you were just a pre-teen, rolling your eyes at her warning you away from all kinds of danger.

You never expected she'd be right. Every waking moment holds more weight than ever before. Ellie is completely dependent on you, even as she grows and becomes more independent. It's you she looks to for validation when she does something right, and you she looks to when she knows she's in trouble.

She's smart as a whip, quick with a comeback and well versed in anything she can get her hands on. She excels in sports too-- individually, at first. As she gets older you notice a little bit of a mean streak in her. While she craves friends and wants to be part of a team, she has trouble making connections sometimes.

You have to wonder if part of that comes from Joel, his stubbornness and his lone wolf tendencies. Has he unknowingly passed down the most insecure parts of himself to his daughter? Sorry, his secondborn daughter?

Now there's literal proof of Joel Miller as a person, in human form, and she's trudging upstairs with her field hockey equipment and slamming her bedroom door.

Between the years of 2004 and 2008 you could almost convince yourself that he didn't exist, that he was a figment of your runaway imagination, born of a father complex and attachment issues. You work on yourself in therapy, feeling small as you divulge the innermost secrets of your heart and the intrusive thoughts, even going so far as to reveal that you've looked for Joel on social media, now that everyone has a profile.

Born of an intrusive thought, you type his name into the search bar on Facebook. Getting quite a few findings of those with the same name, you narrow the search. Joel Miller, Austin Texas His company logo comes up as its own page, and you notice it's changed, probably Tommy's idea as Joel never liked change.

Searching further you find his picture. There it is: Joel Miller, Boston Massachusetts

Huh?

You click on his profile while your heart thumps strongly within your ribcage. You wish you could let it out, set it free.

There he is, looking older than the last time you saw him, the grey more prominent in his hair, looking serious in his selfie. Even though it's just a selfie, a random moment in time, you can't help blushing, as if he's looking at you through the screen, appraising your own measure of aging. You wonder what you were doing that exact moment he took the picture.

But your hunger for knowledge needs to be fed, and scrolling down you swear you misread it at first.

Relationship status: Married

There's a roaring in your ears as your mouse hovers over the name next to those words: Tess Servopoulos

From there you check out her profile, see that she's from Detroit, five years younger than Joel. While his profile pic is only of himself, hers shows them together, on a hiking trail somewhere, Joel's arms around her from behind.

You slam the laptop shut, your blood buzzing in your veins. You feel distractingly alive, the heartache spreading through every muscle and nerve ending. Your past is brought to full fucking focus.

Against your better judgment you open the screen again and search through Tess's photos, specifically the ones of Joel. Most of the comments are from a couple of guys named Bill and Frank, who after some digging you come to find are married, and friends with Joel and Tess. You hit the jackpot when you find a video she uploaded, a fifteen-second clip of Joel holding a baby. Your heart stops when you realize the baby isn't his but Sarah's, and he's now a grandfather.

It feels like you're spying on them. You know so much about them by now, and the one glaring omission is children. They don't seem to have any.

Going back to Joel's profile, you hover the mouse dangerously over the Add Friend button. When you click it, it's the strongest rush you've felt in ages.

Weeks later, he hasn't accepted it. The sparkle of your anticipation is dulled, and with a heavy heart you click to cancel the request.

A couple years down the road you get a notification from Facebook Messenger while you're watching Narcos.

Message Request. Sarah Miller Hey! It's been forever! How are you?

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

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[saaturrn4]

. MDNI !

| “Good girl, yeah keep going” ── .✦ modern AU

Toji Fushiguro x Fem!reader ᥫ᭡

⭑

➤ Warnings; smut 18+, age gap, best friends single dad, dom!toji, sub!femreader, use of names (daddy, baby girl, good girl), cunnilingus, edging, breeding, nipple play, fingering, reverse cowgirl, tummy bulge, after care at the end.

➤ Summary; you go over Megumi’s house to greet him after being away for college, expecting to see Megumi, you see his dad instead, and things take a turn.

• 3.4k+ words

.✦

! not proofread.

It was a nice day today, considering it was a Monday. But it was finally the holidays, so it meant you could finally get away from campus and the assignments. It felt nice to get some fresh air, especially to be back in your home town. It felt like forever since you’ve been here, the place still looking the same from a year ago.

You also thought it would be a great idea to visit your friend, Megumi. He had arrived in town about a week ago from college also, so you knew it would be a good time to see him after being away from each other for so long. Especially since you two weren’t in the same college, which absolutely sucked.

You walk down the familiar street, houses you remember so well as you walk past each one. You walk up the driveway of the house that you had so many memories in, from being caught trying to get ice cream from the fridge, to breaking your arm from falling off the tree in the backyard, to playing hide and seek in complete darkness.

It was such great times, you were happy to be back at home.

You walk up to the front door, knocking on it twice before dropping your arm to your side. You bite on your bottom lip as you wait for the door to open, hearing footsteps from the other side about a minute later.

The door swings open, your eyes darting up to see Toji, Megumi’s dad. Your face goes red as you see his broad chest, as well as his v line. “H-hey! Mr Fushiguro long time no see” you say with a stutter, cursing to yourself in your head.

“Y/n! It’s nice to see you again! And for the last time, call me Toji you should know I don’t like that formal shit” he says with a laugh, in response you laugh as well, blushing a little as he combs through his hair.

“Come in, Megumi is out getting groceries” he says while stepping to the side, you nod before stepping inside, taking off your shoes shortly after as Toji closes the door.

You look around the house, seeing all the pictures the Fushiguro family, mostly it being just Toji and Megumi. You smile softly at all of them as you walk down the hall, with Toji walking right behind you.

You both walk into the living room, both taking a seat on the comfortable couches. You cross your leg over the other as Toji takes a seat across from you, his legs in a manspread. “I wasn’t expecting visitors so the house is a little messy” he grumbled, combing through his hair. You shake your head “it’s fine mr- Toji I don’t mind at all” you say with a reassuring smile, in which he nods in response.

“So how’s college going?” He asks with a raised eyebrow, you shrug in response. “It’s doing good right now, a pain in the ass though” you say with a giggle, he chuckles with a head shake. “It gets better trust me” he says, giving you a smile. You dart your eyes from his, looking at the coffee table in front of you. “You’ve been out partying? Don’t tell me you’ve been at those stupid frat parties” he leans forward, waiting for your answer.

You shake your head “only to clubs” you reply in which he nods in response. “Good, those frat parties are nothing but trouble” he says, crossing his arms across his naked chest. You gulp as you see his abs, before darting your eyes away before you got caught.

He had obviously caught you which he frowned from thinking he had made you uncomfortable. “I’ll put on a shirt if you feel uncomfortable” he says, standing up. You look up quickly, your mouth slightly opened.

“No no no it’s fine! I’m not uncomfortable at all!” You say, shaking your head. He looks at you, eyes narrowed before sitting back down. “Are you sure? I can quickly go and get a shirt” you shake your head in response “like I said Toji, it’s fine no need to worry” you say with a smile, making him nod.

“Okay then” he murmurs, giving you a raised eyebrow. The sound of a phone buzzing echo’s, in which Toji pulls out his phone from his pocket. He answers the phone, putting it to his ear to talk to the person on the other side.

He says a quick bye before hanging up, placing his phone on his lap before letting out a sigh. “Who was it?” You ask “Megumi, he’s at Itadori’s house and won’t be back till later” he says before standing up, you frown at the answer before standing up also.

“I thought he was getting groceries?” You ask, raising an eyebrow as you follow Toji closely. He shrugs, which you can’t help but look at his back muscles flexing as he did it. “Itadori probably begged him to come to his place, Y’know how those two are” he murmured, shaking his head as you both walk into the kitchen. “Boys will be boys” you joke, in which he snickers. “I got left over pasta from last night if you want some? Or it was just gonna go to waste” he suggests, pulling out a small container of pasta from the fridge.

You grab it from his hands, a small ‘thank you’ leaving your lips as you open the container. Toji hands you a fork before taking a seat at the kitchen counter, putting his chin on his hands as he stares into space. You start to eat the pasta, a few moans leaving you as the taste melts in your mouth. You know Megumi’s cooking anywhere.

You hadn’t realised that Toji was watching you, until you were finished with the food. You lick the corner of your mouth before looking up, blushing hard as you make eye contact with Toji. He chuckles softly “no need to get shy, I was like that last night when I ate it too” he says, before standing up.

“You have a little bit of sauce” he says, pointing towards the spot where it was. You blush even more as you try to wipe it away, before looking back at Toji. He shakes his head “here let me” he says before walking over to you, his hand reaching out to your face.

He places his fingers underneath your chin as his thumb swipes the corner of your mouth, making you open your mouth a little. He looks down at you as you sat there whilst his hand held onto your chin softly, his thumb resting against the side of your mouth as he stared at you. You couldn’t help but stare back, your face red like a tomato.

I mean, you couldn’t help but blush. You can’t lie, but Toji is a good looking man, and the scar at the corner of his lip just made him even hotter. But you couldn’t say that out loud, because 1. He’s your best friends dad, 2. He is like 20 years older than you, and 3. Is well because your scared Megumi would never talk to you again if he found out about your little crush on his dad. Actually scratch that, it’s a BIG crush. Fuck, you can’t go a day without thinking about him. You know it’s wrong but you can’t help it, I mean you’ve moaned his name while you were fucking yourself with your dildo for crying out loud!!! But nobody needs to know that. And you mean Nobody.

The sound of Toji chuckling makes you snap out of your trance, his hand dropping from your chin as he stands straight. “You get distracted easily, y/n” he teases before patting the top of your head, he grabs the container and fork, walking to the sink and putting the container and fork in it.

Silence took over as Toji cleaned the dishes while you took glances at his back, watching as his muscles flexed as he moved. It was definitely a good sight to look at, oblivious to the fact that Toji knew you were looking, a small smirk plastered across his face as he cleaned the dishes.

You couldn’t help but think of nasty thoughts of Toji, the thoughts so nasty that it made you squeeze your thighs together, the ache in between them growing. Toji turned around after doing the dishes, his eyes narrowed at the look on your face. “Are you okay?” He asks, drying his hands on his pants before making his way over to you.

With a nod, you give him a smile “I’m fine” you say, but Toji didn’t seem pleased with your answer. He shakes his head as he stands beside you, his hand going underneath your chin, lifting your head up.

He studies your face “are you sure you’re okay?” He asks, an eyebrow raised. You nod with a little ‘mhm”, not trusting yourself to speak as you felt your panties soak. His eyes glance down at your crossed legs before looking back up at you, tilting his head to the side. He soon takes a seat next to you, his hand dropping from your chin to your thigh.

You jump at the feeling of his hand on your thigh, his fingers sliding down to your inner thigh, pushing the leg down. “You look frustrated… are you frustrated y/n?” He asks, his eyes darting up to look into yours. Your name rolls off his tongue so smooth, it sounded so good.

You let out a shaky breath, nodding as he hums in response. “Do you want me to help with your frustration?” He asks, tilting his head. You bite on your bottom lip, not knowing what to say as the ache in between your thighs grew. It only took a nod for Toji to lift you up from the stool, his hands around your waist whilst your legs wrapped around his body.

He kisses you hungrily, your mouth moving with his in seconds. Your tongues slid with each other, teeth clashing against each other as Toji took you into his room, locking the door behind you two before walking to the bed.

He places you down on the bed before climbing on top of you, your lips never leaving. Small whimpers escaped you, only for it to be muffled by Toji’s mouth, his tongue skilfully darting in your mouth.

This felt so wrong but so right at the same time.

In seconds you both had your clothes ripped off, thrown away somewhere in the room. Toji’s head was in between your thighs, raspy moans leaving you as his mouth sucked and kiss on your clit. Your fingers raked through his soft, black hair as he pleased you.

Incoherent words left your mouth, eyes rolled back of your head as he slid two of his fingers in your entrance. Your toes curled, back slightly arched off the bed as he curled the digits, wanting to find your weak spot. You moaned his name so cutely, your voice filling Toji’s ears. He swirled his tongue around the swollen bud, smothering his face with your wetness. Small gasps kept leaving you as you felt your orgasm reaching, your legs spreading out as Toji slid his fingers in and out of you at a quick pace.

Another gasp left you before the feeling of Toji leaving you, your chest going up and down as you opened your eyes. “T-Toji?!” You say his name frustratedly, making him chuckle at your little confused face.

The sexual frustration he had left you with was unbearable, your body felt like it was on fire as he stood in front of you, his cock pressed up against his lower abdomen. “What?” He teased with a stupid smirk on his face, making you even more frustrated.

“Why did you stop?!” You ask angrily, in which he chuckled again. “Shhh baby girl, you can cum soon” he says, before crawling onto you. He hovers over you, giving you a kiss on the cheek before one of his hands slide down, pushing your legs apart. “So wet for me” he murmurs to himself, looking at the glistening of your pussy.

“P-please” you whisper, biting on your bottom lip as he looks up at you. “Please what? I need words baby” he smirks, his hand brushing out hair from your face. “Please- p-please d-daddy I need you” you were a stuttering mess, almost fumbling up a little sentence. You were a fucking mess, mascara smudged down your eyes, lips swollen and your face bright red. And it was because of Toji.

He groans at your response, giving you a sloppy kiss on the lips before lifting you up. He flips you over, making you cradle his lap as he sat at the edge of the bed. His hands gripped onto you as your arms wrapped around his neck, the feeling of his cock pushed up against your thigh. “Ride me baby” he says as he pushes his face into the crook of your neck, biting and sucking on the flesh.

You whimper at his words before nodding, biting on your bottom lip as he guides his tip to your entrance, sliding the tip up and down your slippery folds, covering it in your slick. A small gasp leaves your lips as he pushed the tip inside of you, inch by inch slowly. He was stretching you out, so slowly it felt painful. But it felt heavenly.

He grunts at the tightness of your cunt, your walls squeezing around him tightly. Your back arches, a loud moan escaping your pretty little swollen lips.

It had felt like you were being ripped apart, the size of his cock too much to handle. But he didn’t stop, he wanted you to feel every inch of him, he wanted you to think of him and only him. He could tell you hadn’t had a fuck in a while, just by the way your walls was clenching around him, swallowing him whole as he slid inside of you slowly.

“You’re so tight baby girl” he hisses, sinking his teeth into your neck. His hands held onto you tightly, pushing you down onto his cock slowly.

Soon enough, he was fully in, the tip brushing against your g-spot. You both sat there, breathing heavily as you both waited for you to get used to him. He kissed up and down your neck, leaving dark hickeys along it.

His hands slid up your body, going straight to your breasts. A small gasp leaves you as you feel his fingers squeeze your nipples, twisting and rubbing them. He fondled them so perfectly, one of his hands leaving your tits, his mouth now replacing it. Your mouth opens, raspy breaths exiting you as he swirled his tongue around your nipple, the same way he was doing to your clit.

He was very skilled with his mouth, so skilled it left you drooling. You slowly started to bounce at a slow pace, a low groan leaving Toji as he continued to suck and lick at your nipple.

You bite on your bottom lip as you bounce up and down, the slight sound of skin slapping against each other echoed through the room, as well as a squelching sound. He smothered his face in your breasts, groans leaving him. “Daddy…” you moan, your hands gripping onto his shoulders tightly.

He lays down on the bed, his hands gripping onto your hips as you continued to bounce on his cock. “Good girl, yeah keep going” The sight that was in front of him was fucking beautiful, the way your tits bounced around as you rode him so perfectly, the way drool slid down your chin and onto your chest. It was a beautiful sight, Toji loved everything about it.

His eyes scanned your body, sweat and bite marks covered your skin, his eyes slowly going down to your stomach. His eyes widened, seeing the faint outline of his cock poking through.

The sight of it was enough for him to cum on the spot, but he waited, he waited till you were a complete mess. He wanted to fill you up with his cum, cover your insides white. He wanted you to be his.

And he always gets what he wants.

His hand reaches out, pressing it against your stomach, feeling the bulge. You gasp loudly, your toes curling from the feeling as he presses on your stomach again.

“Take my hand baby” he says, in which you obey, his hand grabbing yours. He guides it down to your stomach, pressing it against your stomach. You felt a lump, making you confused to what it is. “T-Toji what is t-that?” You stuttered, which he chuckled at before letting go of your hand.

“That’s me baby that’s my cock right there” he says so casually, which made you dart your eyes down to your stomach.

Your eyes widen as you see the bulge in your stomach, the shape of his cock slightly visible to you. His hands land back on your hips, guiding you through your movements. You look up at Toji, sweat covering his forehead, as well has strands of hair sticking to it.

Your hands land back on his chest, flipping your hair to the side. Hickeys covered every inch of your neck, as well as your tits, making Toji smirk from how proud he was of his artwork. Your stomach did flips as you reached your high, the familiar knot forming in your stomach. He hissed as your pussy clenched around his cock, his nails digging into your skin as you bounced up and down at a fast pace.

He was close too, his chest rising up and down fast as he lets out groans. “O-ohhhh I-I’m gonna cum!” You moan loudly, the feeling of his tip pushing up against your cervix making you come closer to your high.

“Fffuckk me too baby, me too” he groans, helping you with your movements. Your eyes rolled back as you felt yourself starting to cum, a loud scream leaving your glossy mouth.

You gushed all over Toji’s cock, covering him in your wetness. Breathless moans left you as you began to shake, your toes curled to the point it started to cramp up.

“Fuck I’m coming baby” he whimpered out, hissing before pushing up into you, a loud groan leaving his lips as he began to shoot rows of cum inside of you. You whimpered, the feeling of your insides being filled to the brim felt amazing. He kept filling you up till cum started oozing out of your overflowed cunt, dripping down on Toji’s dick.

He lets out a sigh, watching as your chest moves up and down quickly. You open your eyes, letting out a sigh also. You lean down, connecting your lips with his in a slow and gentle kiss. His arms wrap around you , flipping you two around. He hovers over you as you kissed slowly, no tongue, no teeth clashing. It was just a sweet normal kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer.

He smiles against your lips before pulling away, a string of saliva attached to you two. His hand comes up, brushing hair away from your face. “Beautiful” he whispers, making you blush hard as he chuckles at your reaction.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” He suggests, pulling away. You nod as he stands up, lifting you up bridal style before making his way to the connected bathroom.

————

It had felt like forever since you two hopped in the shower, both of your bodies covered in soap. The both of you didn’t say much, just letting the water run down your bodies.

You both shared a messy kiss before hopping out, towels wrapped around your bodies before walking back into his bedroom.

You stood beside the bed as Toji changed the sheets, throwing the messy ones in a basket. Soon you both crawled on the now clean bed, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as your leg wrapped around his waist. Soon enough your eyes dropped like flies as you fell asleep.

Toji soon fell asleep shortly after, his arms wrapped around you perfectly.

But the thing is, you both didn’t know that Megumi and Yuji were in the living room, who were both traumatised by what they had just heard 20 minutes ago.

It was something they will never forget nor will they ever bring it up. Ever. And Megumi is for sure not talking to the either of you again for quite some time.

•••

Heyyyy guys, this is my first post on here, so don’t mind if it’s kinda shitty!! 😭 I’m still working out how to use tumblr as well:(