#i wrote this while needing sleep so sorry for typos

[loafgeto]

ᝬ 𝗡𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗬 𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗬𝗦𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥 ⤵︎

geto suguru x fem!reader

synopsis: you are the babysitter to twin girls. their adoptive dad, suguru, is normally dealing with work related issues and comes back one night with a treat.

cw: fem! reader, mdni 18+, explicit language, dilf geto suguru, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f. receiving), creampie, dirty talking, fingering, squirting, some praising and usage of pet names (geto says princess, baby, and sweetheart, mister and sir are used for geto), you and geto basically fucking and trying to keep quiet while the girls sleep ;P

wc: 3.9k

a/n: hello guys, this is my first oneshot on here🙁 and if you know me, i’ve been obsessing over geto suguru and one of my friends suggested i write about him!! this oneshot isn’t proofread so it’s published however i wrote it like. i’ll go back soon to check for grammar or typo issues. anyways, i hope you guys enjoy because i know i will😋💯‼️

“Come on girls, it’s time for you two to sleep,” you call from the kitchen to the two girls that were sitting by the TV in the living room. After cleaning the table and washing dishes, you went to the girls in order to prepare them for bed.

Grabbing the remote to the TV, one of the girls suddenly whine. “But I don’t wanna sleep. I wanna watch TV still,” Nanako huffs, crossing her arms over her chest in persistence.

“Me too.. I like this show. Please miss Y/n?” the other twin, Mimiko frowns, pressing her stuffed animal close to her.

“I’m sorry girls.. you know your dad gave me your schedules and he firmly said for you two to be in bed by 8:30,” you remind the girls as the remote falls under your grasp and you hit the power button to turn the TV off. “Now if your dad found out I broke one of the rules, he might not let me be your babysitter anymore.”

Their eyes widen in shock and they end up complying to your words. It wasn’t necessarily true. Though, their dad would be disappointed, he wouldn’t fire you because of it. And that’s because you’re actually a great babysitter. The previous ones weren’t as bad, but the girls didn’t necessarily like them until you were hired.

Nanako and Mimiko were quick to like you as their babysitter, in which satisfied their dad and you began babysitting them constantly several weekdays and weekends. It had been three months since, and it’s like you were apart of the family.

Not only that, you were given a good pay every week just to watch and take care of them. He was a single dad, worked 5 days a week to provide for him and the girls, and well, extremely handsome. You were astonished to discover that he didn’t even have a partner. He always dismissed it, declaring he was too focused on his work to seek for a relationship.

Unfortunate. You were honestly attracted to him, but you didn’t get this job solely because of that. You genuinely needed money to support yourself, and since you had prior skills in taking care of children, you figured it’d be easier to earn that way.

You just happen to become interested in the dude. It was to the point you even started developing some romantic feelings for him. You started imagining yourself with him, with the girls, as a family. Even imagining him pinning you down on his bed and fucking you relentlessly. You felt guilty thinking about it all, but no one had to know.

For now, you hide your true feelings about him but still show your respect and care for him. And you weren’t certain but, you even considered that he might have something towards you too.

You tuck the two girls in their individual twin beds, making sure they were comfortable before reading them a bed time story. And when they finally fell into a slumber, you quietly slip out of their room, shut off the lights and close their door.

Venturing back into the kitchen, you decide to grab a small serving of the cookies you three baked for dessert earlier and settle in the living room before their dad got home.

You play on your phone for the remainder of the hour. Scrolling through social media and messaging friends back while munching on the cookies. You glance at the clock several times, reading the numbers before deciding whether to prepare a meal for their father or not. Usually, out of courtesy, you would cook him a simple dinner that he always appreciated by eating and complimenting how well you cooked it.

hello, mister geto. i was wondering if you wanted me to cook dinner for you so that when you get back, it would be ready? you sent him the message, drumming your fingers on your thigh as you waited for a response.

No later than 2 minutes, he replies. no need to worry. i’m getting takeout. thanks though.

Well, you guessed you were able to relax until then, which you found no problem in.

You took this moment to walk around the two story house and explore. Their dad gave you permission to do so, even allowed you to enter all of the rooms besides his unless necessary. You were allowed to touch items but handle them with care or else you’d pay for the damage. You often found yourself in the room where he stores series of novels and single books, and read there while the girls sleep.

This time, you decided to grab one of the books from the Percy Jackson collection and read in the living room before their dad came home. You didn’t know how many times you’ve read the series, but you enjoyed it, and could read it over and over again with no complaints.

By the time it was 9:30, you could hear the front door to the house click, indicating someone was using a key to open the house. You get up from the couch, deciding to greet their dad by the door. The knob twists and as you approach the large foyer, the door opens and their dad steps into the house.

Geto Suguru is definitely one in a billion. His eyes directly fall onto your figure when the doors open, and he found himself unable to break his gaze until he opens his mouth.

“Ah. Y/n,” Suguru was quite surprised with your greeting by the door, but he replaces his expression with a warm smile as he shuts the door behind him. “How was today? Were the girls good?”

“Today went well, as usual, Mister Geto. The girls were good. Did their homework, had dinner, and are sleeping right now,” you reply as he walks past you to get into the kitchen. He gives you a glance and nods, and you follow him.

“That’s good, I appreciate it,” Suguru implies as he enters the kitchen, placing the bag of takeout on his kitchen island table. He gives you another look before adding, “want some?”

“Oh- no, thank you. Please, it’s your dinner. You should enjoy it,” you decline with a polite grin as you went to the other side of the island table. Conversations were occasionally like this between the two of you, it may seem awkward, but it didn’t feel like it. “How was work today for you, Mister Geto?”

“Was alright. Just got dragged into some issues. Have to deal with it tomorrow,” Suguru sighs with an irritated groan. He starts untying the knot from the takeout bag and took out the boxes.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Hopefully things will be alright for you,” you reply with a slight frown. “You know I’m here to listen to your problems.”

“No worries, but I appreciate you,” Suguru chuckles softly. “By the way, you sure you don’t want any? I bought too much for one person.”

“I’d feel bad..”

“You should feel bad for not eating, especially when I offered,” Suguru slides one of the boxes over to you. “Come on. It’d be our first dinner together.”

You didn’t necessarily know how to respond and decide to just comply to his offer. You take the takeout box and a pair of chopsticks. “Well.. thank you, Mister Geto.”

Suguru only nods as a reply and you both start to eat in silence. You notice that he frequently sends you glances. Mind you, you’re wearing a dress. The length was mid-thigh and the attire was mainly for the girls since they wanted to play dress up. His glances caused you to ponder if he was becoming uncomfortable and you decide to bring up the matter but Suguru speaks first.

“The dress looks beautiful on you,” Suguru blurts out the compliment as your eyes meet his. You were appalled, to say the least. This unexpected compliment caused your heart to skip rapid beats.

“O-Oh.. thank you, sir.. The girls wanted to play dress up, so I came in a dress in order to do that,” you casually explain, trying not to express your fluster due to his words.

Suguru raises a brow, but smiles. “Yeah? I’m glad you and the girls have a close bond. They don’t have a mother figure but I believe you’re supporting that role for them. I’m genuinely grateful for you since I can’t always be there for them. And you’re always welcome here, even if you aren’t scheduled to babysit them.”

“I really appreciate that. Thank you so much,” you give him a smile. Honestly, how more can this man go to attract you?

“You thirsty?” Suguru brings up next as he starts walking towards one of the cabinets. He takes out two wine glasses, glancing at you for an answer. “I don’t have wine anymore, you fine with some juice or soda and we pretend like it’s wine or whatever?”

You laugh softly. “I’m fine with that.”

Suguru pours juice in the two glasses and hands you one of them. “Next time, I’ll have some wine prepared. Just don’t want the girls getting their hands on something they shouldn’t be touching.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll hide them extra careful. Besides, the girls are smart enough not to snoop in areas they aren’t supposed to,” you imply and Suguru chuckles, nodding in agreement.

“You’re right. Next time then.”

“Mhm. Next time.”

You and Suguru finish eating shortly afterwards. He remained at the island table, cleaning up the takeout boxes and messaging his employers on his phone. You went to the sink and began washing your glass cup, and afterwards, you’d finally prepare to go back home.

Suguru stood behind, unbeknownst to you. About to turn around in order to fetch his cup to wash, you felt the sensation of his body hover over yours. This feeling caused you to startle, but you remained poised and watch as he placed his empty cup in the sink.

“Don’t worry, I got it from here,” Suguru whispers in your ear. It sent shivers down your spine and you turn your head to meet his gaze. He was so close to you. His lips were reachable for you and your heart starts pounding.

“I-It’s okay.. I should be the one to..” you start to say as your eyes trail from his lips and up to his eyes. “..wash them..”

You and Suguru stood there, locking eyes for who knows how long. It was cliche, but at that moment, you found yourself getting lost in his dark eyes. You felt your face burning and you were certain Suguru could see how flustered you’ve become. But you didn’t budge, and neither did he.

“Mister Geto..?”

“Fuck..” Suguru murmurs, finally breaking eye contact but remained in the same position. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I just—“

He looks back up at you and the expression in eyes told everything.

In an instant, your lips found your way to his. Suguru immediately kisses you back, wrapping an arm around your waist while yours went around his neck. He gently pushes you against the kitchen island table, and he deepens the kiss with more passionate energy.

You pull Suguru closer, a hand going to grasp his hair as his free hand slithers under your thigh and he grips it. Suguru hoists your thighs up and moves his hand further under your dress.

“God.. you’re so beautiful. Wanna fuck you so bad, princess,” Suguru mumbles as he pulls away slightly from the kiss.

“W-Want you to fuck me.. Mister Geto..” you whisper through your pants as a smirk forms on his lips. He gives you another kiss, pressing his tongue against yours. You moan against mouth and he pulls away, sliding his hand up to cup your ass.

“Yeah?” He replies and you nod, feeling the tip of his middle finger trace the soaked area of your underwear. “Already so fucking wet, just f’me.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

Suguru then began swirling his finger around your clothed clit, causing you to release a moan. Gosh. The feeling of his fingers just gently touching you already made you a complete mess.

“You gotta be quiet, sweetheart,” Suguru reminds you as he pushes your underwear to the side.

“Mhm.. want you to fuck me with your fingers, sir..” you mumble, still holding him by the neck.

Suguru wastes no time and pushes two of his longer fingers into your dripping pussy. You throw your head back slightly, gasping at the feeling before Suguru latches his mouth on your neck. He begins to pump his fingers in and out of you at a sensual pace, circling his thumb around your clit.

Your hand grabs the edge of the island table for support and the other covers your mouth, refraining your loud moans to echo throughout the house. But it just felt too good, that you could barely hold back.

“You hear that, princess? You hear how wet you are for me?” Suguru inquires, pulling back and dropping to his knees. His fingers pump a few more time before he lifts the dress up even more. “Such a pretty pussy.”

“M-Mister Geto..” you moan as you felt his mouth latch onto your pussy. His tongue starts to suck and lick your clit, as he proceeds to slide and curl his fingers in and out of you in a faster pace. “So good..”

Suguru thrusts his fingers deeper, hitting your spots. He uses his other hand to lift your leg over his shoulder for a better angle before pushing his fingers out. He licks your arousal dripping from your cunt and down your thighs before pressing his tongue into your pussy.

“S-Sir!” you throw your head back as you felt his tongue lick in and all around pussy. He gives a gentle blow to your clit before giving it several kitten licks.

Suguru returns two of his fingers inside of you, curling and pumping them at a quicker speed. Your moans escape from the tip of your tongue just like that. It was music to Suguru’s ears and he wanted to hear your sweet and erotic noises more.

The way your walls clench around his long fingers made him wonder how it’d feel like with his dick. Oh, how he wanted to test it out right now.

“G-Gonna cum.. Mister Geto..”

“Cum for me, princess. Cum over my face and fingers.”

A hand goes to grip his hair as he fucks your pussy with his mouth and fingers. You’re close, feeling his fingers curl in you to rub against your sensitive spots. Suguru quickens his pace so you’d cum faster when hearing your wet pussy squelch and moans get louder, messier.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.. cumming—“ you moan out, head falling back and your grip on the kitchen island table tightens as your cum squirts over his fingers and mouth.

Suguru continues to pump his fingers several times as you came, licking all of the juices that dripped from his mouth. He cleans your cum with his tongue, making sure to get every droplet that dropped on your skin.

He gets up, gently pushing his fingers in your mouth in order for you to get a taste of yourself. You suck and swirl your tongue over his fingers and Suguru’s expression turns more cunning.

“Didn’t think my kids’ babysitter was this naughty,” Suguru comments with a chuckle following.

“It’s cause of you..” you murmur as he removes his fingers from your mouth, a string of saliva connected from your tongue and the tip of his fingers.

Suguru leans in to give you another kiss, lifting you off the ground with his strength and you wrap your legs around his waist. Your lips moves against his as he walks the two of you over to the living room, where he lays you down on the couch.

“Remember to keep your voice down, princess,” Suguru mutters as he trails his hand behind your back to the zipper of your dress. He gives you another quick kiss as you nod your head.

Suguru completely unzips your dress and lifts it over your head, tossing it to the side before examining your body with his eyes. “So perfect,” he says and lowers his body to kiss you again.

He grinds his body against yours and you could feel his bulge press against your clothed pussy. Even under all that clothing, you knew he was big. So big that you didn’t know if you could take it.

“Need you inside of me, Mister Geto. Please,” you whine as his hand slips under your bra to grope your breast.

“You that impatient?” Suguru chuckles against your skin before pressing several kisses down your neck and chest. But it’s obvious that he’s completely mesmerized. “Need my dick in you so badly, hm? I’ll give it to you, baby.”

Suguru unzips his pants, taking his hard cock out. It sprung up, already dripping in pre-cum. Your eyes were glued on his dick, mouth practically open. Your pussy quivered with the sight of it, knowing it’d be slipping in and out of you soon, making you beg for more.

He could feel his face flush as quickly takes off his shirt and he begins pumping his cock several times with his hand. “Can’t wait to feel your pussy around my cock.”

Suguru slips your underwear off, tossing it to the side with your dress and spreads your legs further apart before aligning the tip of his dick to your entrance. You bite your lip, feeling his tip glide against your wet folds.

“Still so wet..” Suguru murmurs, dick twitching with the feeling of your wet entrance. “Been waiting for this moment..”

“Me too.. sir..”

He pushes his cock inside of your pussy slowly, feeling your walls clench around him at an instant. You both let out moans, and Suguru lowers his body over you while using both of his hands to grab your hips.

Suguru was big, so fucking big. He stretches you out perfectly, as if your pussy was made just for his cock.

“Fuckkk,” Suguru grunts, pushing his entire length into your pussy.

“So big.. Oh g-god. Mister Ge—“

“Suguru. Call me, Suguru,” he interrupts as his face drops to your neck.

“Suguru..”

Hearing you say his name for the first time brought a warm feeling to his heart, it was so soft, sweet and affectionate. The way you looked at Suguru made him wonder if you actually felt the same way about him.

With no hesitation, Suguru thrusts immediately, grunting during the moment when he feels his cock grinding against the walls of your pussy. You cover your moans with your hand, and his thrusts become faster and deeper, hitting every sensitive part of your pussy.

“Fuck! Suguru-!” your arms wrap around him, nails beginning to claw his back.

Your moans start to resonate the room, despite trying to lower it, his cock was just too good. He thrusts fast, his balls slapping against your cunt and you swore you could feel him penetrate your womb. The wet and erotic sounds of skin slapping and your wet pussy starts to permeate the room and Suguru covers your mouth with his, refraining your loud moans to travel to the second level of the house.

Suguru’s pounding you so fucking good, just like you’ve always imagined him doing. But this was way better than all your imaginations and dreams. You’re in pure bliss, overwhelmed with the feeling of how good his cock his. Your legs wrap around Suguru’s waist as he thrusts his cock deeper and deeper as he could, enjoying your moans falling into his mouth.

“Fuck.. your pussy feels so good princess,” Suguru says as he pulls his lips away from yours.

He slips his cock out before pushing two fingers inside of your pussy and rubbing your clit with his thumb again. He thrusts them several times, getting moans out of you before slipping them out.

Suguru flips your body over, and you prop yourself with your two hands while his hands travels back to your hips. He grips the side of your hips, spreading your ass cheeks before slamming his cock back inside of you, making you wince.

“Suguru!”

This position made you feel him so deep inside. His cock rubs against your g-spot every thrust, making your body tremble and moans escape even more. Suguru noticed this made you louder, and he found it amusing and cute how you’re trying to stay quiet as possible.

Your pussy is clenching him so tight, making him grunt and moan. God, he knew he’d love this feeling. “F-Fuck, princess. Squeeze my cock just like that.”

“S-So close again.. Suguru-“

Suguru’s grip around your hip tightens to the point his hand print was marked and he fastens his pace, his hips slamming into your ass and the couch starts creating squeaking noises. Your upper body drops to the couch, unable to withstand propping yourself up. Your moans are buried within the couch and your back arches more to allow Suguru to fuck you deeper.

He could feel how deep he’s going in your pussy, it drove him insane. Fucking your kid’s babysitter should be the last thing to think of but he couldn’t help himself, especially on the first day he met you. For one, all he knew was that he wanted you. Wanted to hear you moan, cry out his name and kiss him. Wanted to cum inside of you and make you squirt. He’d make you his.

“Gonna cum soon, baby— fuck,” Suguru grunts, lowering his body over yours. One of his hands goes to grab your face, making you turn to face him. You both share a sloppy kiss, moans bouncing off each other’s tongues.

“Want your cum in me, Suguru..”

“Yeah? Gonna pump some into your womb. Gonna make you mine.”

You can barely speak, your mind becomes foggy and your eyes are rolling back. Moans can only tell how you’re feeling, and it’s enough for Suguru to know he’s fucking you the best.

Suguru’s lips trail down your neck and to your shoulders, and he peppers several kisses against your skin. He gently bites the skin of your back, returning his grip to your hips as he quickens his thrust, pounding you from the back.

“Fuck, fuck. I-I’m all yours, Suguru!” you cry out, trying to grip the seat of the couch as you reach your next orgasm. 

“Cumming too, shit—“ Suguru grunts, his dick pumping cum into your womb as you squirt over his cock and couch. He gives several slow thrusts, feeling the walls of your pussy pulsating and squeezing all of his cum out. 

You’re both panting and sweating, processing the moment that just occurred. Suguru’s cock is still buried deep inside of you, gaining the warm feeling of your pussy. He groans, finally slipping his cock out. 

His cum mixed with your juices drip out of your pussy, streaming down your inner thigh and onto the couch. Suguru is breathing heavily and he lowers his body in order to press a kiss against your temple. 

“Wanna stay here for the night?” Suguru questions, lips near your ear. 

“I don’t know..” you reply, turning your head to him before he kisses your lips. “I don’t have extra clothes.”

“Wear mines.”

Suguru kisses you once again, trying to convince you further.

“Come on. It’s late, besides you and I need a shower. And clean up the mess we made,” Suguru continues with a short chuckle. “Plus, I’m sure the girls will be thrilled to see you in the morning.”

You thought about it for a moment before nodding your head. “Okay.”

LOAF4U. thank you for reading! please do not copy my work or publish in another media without my permission.

[softgh0stbites]

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆Moonlight and Ruin

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Rating: NSFW 18+

Tags: cunnilingus f!recieving fingering public sex

Pairing: Vincent Valentine x Reader

Summary: After another month of pining and coming to terms with the fact that he will always be the one to hurt you, Vincent decides to slip a note under your pillow and escape in the night. He would get his revenge alone and then close himself off from the world as he originally planned. You find him twisting the ideas around in his mind as if he wants you to catch him. Read these for context as it's a part of a miny series: Where Desire Slumbers, A Dawn's Resolve, Eclipsed affections.

Notes: A little messy, but I wanted to give you a ramble I've had for a while about the first sexual experience between Vincent and our beloved indulgent reader. I'm not sure if I wrote him correctly, and I know I flipped through the povs back and forth. If you want a music recommendation, I listened to Cherry by Lana Del Ray and Cry by Cigarettes After Sex while writing this. Thank you for all your support!

re: edit there were so many typos and rushed sentences with no punctuation so I rewrote practically everything. I had my friend proof read it this time ;w; i've spent another 12 hours on this, nothing has changed just sentences are broken up better and not stacked like giant texts of the bible since someone said it was hard to read that way for them. Sorry about that!

◯ ☽ ◑ ● ◐ ❨ ◯ ☽ ◑ ● ◐ ❨ ◯ ☽ ◑ ● ◐ ❨ ◯

The night stretches vast and endless above, its stars pulsing in quiet rhythm—dancing without ever moving. A crisp autumn breeze stirs your hair, carrying the scent of fallen leaves and the distant hush of a sleeping town. Your bare feet patter against the cobblestone, each step pressing into the rough, cool stone, a silent reminder that you could turn back and slip beneath your cold sheets and pretend this restlessness never stirred you.

But you don’t.

You don’t know why you thought you’d find him here, beneath the waning moon, in the hush of a world on the edge of dreaming. The streetlamps flicker, their glow dimming to a somber amber, no longer fighting the darkness. You had rushed from the inn the moment you woke, a strange unease settling deep in your bones, as if something was slipping through your fingers, something you weren’t meant to miss.

The note in your hand is a crumpled mess; creased, smoothed out, then tortured all over again beneath restless fingers. Frustration coils in your chest, your thoughts seesawing between the hollow comfort of ignorance and the sharp bite of truth. You grit your teeth, biting your tongue so hard that the taste of copper lingers on your lips.

The ink, scrawled in a hand too familiar, cuts deeper than the jagged cracks of the cement beneath you. No matter how many times you crush the paper in your grip, the words refuse to disappear.

This is where I belong. Forget me.

Your teeth clench, tension locking your jaw as your eyes sting, heavy with unfallen tears. As you walk toward the back of the inn where you and the party stayed, his shadow appears before his form fully emerges beneath the moon’s glow.

He sits on the fountain steps, head tilted back, staring at the stars.

Cool grass cushions your bare feet, each blade brushing against your skin, gentle but insistent, as if urging you forward. You already know he heard you long before you rounded the corner. By the time you step into view, his gaze is already on you. His eyes tighten slightly, not quite surprised, but in recognition.

Your tongue felt heavy, thick with words you weren’t sure how to say. After everything that had passed between you, the silence felt heavier than ever.

You had built something with him. It was something quiet, something unspoken. Nights spent on watch together beneath these very stars had fostered a closeness that needed no words. Your conversations were held in glances, intimate, in the way his shoulder would shift just slightly, inviting you to rest against him. A slow blink of his eyes was permission to inch closer, to let the space between you shrink.

You had thought, maybe, you were growing close. Maybe, you understood him in ways others didn’t.

Vincent was like a cat in some ways, distant yet watchful, his presence steady but reserved. Yet when he let you in, he did so completely. It was in his gaze, the way it softened with vulnerability at times when he looked at you, the quiet warmth that lived there despite his guarded nature. And in those moments, when his walls lowered just enough for you to see inside, you found it hard to breathe.

The thought of these moments slipping away was unraveling your patience, dissolving the restraint you had clung to for so long. How many times had you wanted to pull him down to you, his sharp features inches from yours—clumsily, perhaps, but with a longing that would speak for itself in the hurried whispers of your lips? How often had you imagined holding him beneath the warmth of the sun, grasping his hand mid-mission as you wandered through deserts, forests, towns…?

He was everything you wanted, and you had laid it before him, clear as water. He may have been the one who locked himself away for thirty years, but you were the one left parched, thirsting for even the gentlest reminder of his touch. Your pulse had never forgotten. It still beat with the memory of that evening on the beach, the way he had held you close—closer than he ever had before, closer than he ever had since. He hadn't touched you that way again, but he never truly pushed you away either.

Yet you knew.

There was something he wouldn’t tell you, something heavy, something awful that kept him trapped in his silence. It lingered in his distance, in the way he lost himself in thought. And though he never said a word, his gaze always betrayed him—longing for something, for someone he couldn’t find in you.

You remember the first time you caught him fiddling with the brooch. A simple piece—white gold wrapped delicately around a worn moonstone, dulled by time and wear. His clawed fingers turned it over absently, tracing the edges as if smoothing away the years. It looked fragile in his grip, yet something about the way he held it told you it wasn’t.

Without thinking, you motioned for him to follow. He raised an eyebrow at you, his expression unreadable but clearly questioning your intent. What business did you have leading him toward the storage closet? The realization of what it must have looked like struck you immediately, heat creeping up your neck as you fumbled with the door and yanked him inside by the edge of his cloak.

If he had wanted to resist, he could have. He was immeasurably stronger than you, yet he let you maneuver him without so much as a word. That alone made your stomach twist, warmth pooling somewhere in your chest.

"Vin, light, please." Your voice was steady, but in the darkness, you were grateful he couldn’t see the way your eyes traced his silhouette.

You couldn’t make out much, but the broad curve of his hips as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other was etched into your memory.

A quiet hum of acknowledgment rumbled from him before he reached for the dangling cord, tugging it down with an effortless flick of his wrist. A dim yellow glow flickered to life, painting the small space in soft, wavering light. Shadows stretched along the walls, wrapping around the two of you like something almost tangible.

You held out your hand expectantly.

Vincent hesitated for a fraction of a second before wordlessly dropping the brooch into your palm. His crimson eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place—mild curiosity, perhaps, or maybe something softer. He watched in silence as you rummaged through a nearby box, fingers brushing past cold metal and glass vials until you found what you were looking for. You’d spent enough nights helping Cid polish rusted parts that you could find the right solutions in the dark.

With a quiet exhale, you pushed a few boxes aside, clearing a space just big enough for the two of you to sit. The closet was small, too small, and yet Vincent settled across from you without a word.

Your legs brushed first—just the lightest graze of your foot against his leather-clad calf. He didn’t move away. His other knee bent, resting just beside yours, framing you in a way that made your breath hitch.

Still, neither of you spoke.

Instead, Vincent watched, gaze intent, as your pale fingers soaked the cloth in the strong-smelling liquid. It was an unspoken challenge—one you knew he would intervene in the moment he thought you were being careless. His silent scrutiny was its own form of protection, his way of being present without interfering.

You gave him a reassuring smile. "I'll be gentle, promise."

His brows furrowed slightly. He didn’t understand—of course he didn’t.

With an exasperated sigh, you reached forward and took his hand, carefully wrapping his gloved pinky around yours. His fingers twitched slightly at the contact, but he didn’t pull away. Then, pressing your thumbs together, you held the lock.

"This is a promise, locked, okay?" You grinned at him. "Vincent, if you didn’t look so young, I’d swear you were sixty-eight."

For a moment, there was nothing. Then, a sound deep, low, and soft. A quiet, half-chuckle, barely there but unmistakable. The warmth of it settled deep in your ribs, spreading through your chest like firelight on cold hands.

The two of you stayed like that for the rest of the evening, tucked away in the maintenance closet, breaths nearly mingling in the close air. You worked the polish over the brooch until your fingers ached, the dull gold brightening beneath your touch. It would never be perfect—the scratches were too deep, the years too long—but when you held it up to the light, the stone gleamed once more.

That was when you noticed it.

A faint engraving on the back, previously hidden beneath the tarnish. Your eyes traced the delicate etching, lips parting before you even realized you were speaking.

"Lucrecia Crescent."

The name slipped past your lips in a whisper, barely more than breath.

Across from you, Vincent inhaled sharply.

You looked up just in time to catch the shift in his expression. His face didn’t change much, but you could see it in his eyes—the flicker of something raw, something fragile, before he carefully schooled his features once more. He reached forward, fingers steady but slow, and plucked the brooch from your hands.

Without a word, he tucked it back beneath his garments, hiding it away.

His gaze met yours, and for the first time that night, you saw something there. Uncertainty. Worry. Maybe even fear.

You swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I won’t ask."

Vincent’s eyes flickered, searching your face. Whatever he found there, it must have eased him, because his shoulders relaxed just slightly.

"Thank you."

It felt like he was thanking you for more than just your silence.

When you finally stood to leave, you nearly tripped over the boxes you had pushed aside, your foot catching on something behind you. Vincent’s hands found your hips, steadying you before you could collide with his chest. The heat of his touch, even through the fabric, sent a shiver up your spine.

Your face burned.

Without another word, you stumbled out of the closet and down the hall, the sound of Vincent’s measured steps following close behind. The faint click of his boots against the floor was the only proof that any of it had happened at all.

The cool night air pulled you from your thoughts, but the embers of your anger only burned brighter when you noticed his hands fiddling with the same brooch. His fingers ghosted over the edges, as if testing the worn metal, as if weighing its significance all over again.

Your grip tightened around the paper in your palm, the crumpled note that had shattered the fragile quiet between you. He must have heard the rustle, because his shoulders rose with a deep, weary sigh.

You took a step closer. Then another.

Your emotions, always uncontainable, spilled over as your eyes blurred with tears. You had never been good at swallowing them back, not like he was. You felt everything too much, too fast, too completely. It overwhelmed you, made you ache in ways you didn’t know how to temper.

"Why?"

The word trembled from your lips, barely holding its shape. Your fingers clenched around the note like it was your last tether to him, like if you let it go, he’d disappear entirely.

Vincent’s expression was unreadable, but there was something in the way his gaze softened, a flicker of something regretful. He hadn’t wanted you to find the note so soon. Or maybe he hadn’t wanted to leave it at all. He watched you, eyes catching the tear-streaked path down your cheek, but he didn’t move from where he stood.

"I'll always hurt you. There's no life to be had with me."

His voice carried over the space between you, rough and quiet, like he had already convinced himself of the truth in those words.

You could see it now, the things he wouldn’t say aloud. He would never give you children, maybe he was incapable of it, maybe he simply wouldn’t try. He didn’t have the heart to offer you a peaceful life, not the kind you deserved. He wasn’t going to settle down in some quiet town, wasn’t going to live in a house with a white picket fence.

He wasn't allowed.

The atonement was the only thing that made sense to him anymore. The blood, the fight, the ache, it was the only thing that stopped his mind from spiraling into a cacophony of cruel voices.

Your chest heaved as your grip on the note loosened. It fell, fluttering to the grass.

"And you get to make that choice on your own?"

Your voice cracked, but it didn’t break. The fury burning in your chest held it together.

"What about what I want?"

Vincent stiffened at the force of your words, his crimson gaze flickering with something new. It wasn't just sorrow, but surprise. He had expected your grief, your resignation, maybe even your regret. He hadn’t expected your fire, the way your anger crackled in the air between you.

You took another step forward, closing the distance. Heat radiated off your skin, a stark contrast to his own cold resolve.

Vincent barely had time to process it before you were towering over him, for once. He had to tip his head back slightly as you climbed the stairs above him, your form framed against the dim glow of the streetlamps.

His breath caught just slightly.

Your legs were bare, skin kissed by the soft golden light, and though he knew this wasn’t the time, his gaze betrayed him. It always did.

His eyes traced the line of your figure before snapping back to your face, catching the sharp rise and fall of your chest. The frustration rolling off you was palpable, and yet—

You were stunning.

You had always been stunning.

And that made all of this so much harder.

"Don't," he said, voice low, a warning that carried more weight than anger. The sound reverberated through him, steady but frayed at the edges.

But you didn’t stop.

"No, you don’t!" Your voice wavered as you scrubbed at your eyes, hands trembling against your cheeks. "I don’t care if you leave sometimes… but you can’t leave forever. Don’t go where I can’t follow."

Your breath came quick and uneven as you searched his face, hoping—pleading—to find even a small fracture in his cold resolve.

For a moment, something flickered in his gaze. A hesitation, barely there.

Then, as if retreating into himself, Vincent lowered his eyes to the brooch in his hand. His fingers brushed over it again and again, tracing the engraving as if memorizing something he had long since committed to heart. It was a habit, a ritual, one he repeated so often that you wondered if he even realized he was doing it.

"Precious things always wilt in my grasp," he murmured. "You're no different."

The words carried the weight of inevitability, as if he had already mourned you before you were even gone. As if he believed time itself would erode whatever it was you shared, leaving nothing but another memory to haunt him.

You swallowed hard. "That’s not true."

But he didn’t answer.

"I meant what I said. Forget about me." His voice was quieter now, but the certainty in it stung worse than if he had shouted. He glanced at you once, almost like he was bracing for the impact of his own words. Then his gaze broke away, darting to the ground, the fountain, anywhere but you.

Before you could move, before you could reach for him, Vincent stood. His movements were fluid, practiced, pushing you aside without effort but without force.

Then, without ceremony, he tossed the brooch into the fountain.

The sound of it hitting the water was small but sharp, sending ripples across the surface. The splash jolted through you, your breath catching as though the cold had touched your skin instead.

Vincent turned before the last ripple had even faded.

Without looking back, he stepped down from the stone ledge, cloak sweeping behind him as he descended onto solid ground. His walk was smooth, almost too composed, but there was something about the way his coat billowed behind him that felt final.

He was heading toward the treeline.

The woods would be an inconvenient pass, dense and uneven. But that was the point. In your state—bare legs, thin clothing—you wouldn’t be able to follow.

Vincent knew if he turned, if he saw the tear-streaked devastation on your face, his resolve might crack. His jaw tightened as he forced himself forward, steps slow but unwavering.

"Vincent Valentine, you absolute… i-idiot!"

Your voice rang out behind him, raw and trembling, cutting through the night like a blade. His stride faltered. The rustling of fabric followed, and instinctively, he turned his head—expecting to see you running after him, desperate for one final plea.

But what he saw instead made his breath catch.

You stood beneath the moonlight, lifting your shirt over your head, your hair catching in the neckline before you yanked it free. Then, with swift, determined fingers, you hooked into the waist of your shorts and pushed them down. Vincent's chest seized.

His gaze dragged over you before he could stop himself, taking in the sight of your bare legs, the way your linen chemise clung to your form. It was shorter than he imagined- shorter than in the fantasies he tried to convince himself weren't that indulgent.

His throat tightened, but the moment your teary eyes pierced into him, his gaze snapped up. You wiped at your face, your expression hardened, then turned away.

Without another word, you stepped into the fountain.

Vincent remained frozen, his mind struggling to catch up with your actions. You didn’t hesitate. You slipped beneath the water's surface, vanishing in an instant.

His stomach dropped.

His breath quickened as he strode forward, steps quick and heavy, his chest rising and falling harder than before. But just as he neared the edge, you emerged, breaking the surface in a rush of air and droplets.

The moment stilled and he would keep it in his memory until the day he drew one last taste of air.

You hoisted yourself up onto the stone steps, water cascading down your body in gleaming rivulets. Vincent stopped in his tracks. He could barely breathe.

You were soaked through.

Your white chemise clung obscenely to your skin, transparent where it lay flush against you. Your heaving chest, your rose-tipped nipples peeking through damp fabric, the water trailing over the delicate lines of your ribs, your stomach, pooling down the curve of your thighs—

Exquisite.

Vincent couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. His hunger hit him like a sudden storm, curling in his gut, thick and heavy, so tangible it ached. It pulsed in his throat, in his hands, in the places he had forced himself to ignore for too long.

Because hell, how long had he denied this?

How many nights had he stood under cold running water, his palm wrapped around himself, teeth gritted, your face filling the spaces in his mind? How many times had he swallowed down the need, convinced himself that this desire was something he could control?

But now, standing before you like this, seeing the heat in your eyes, the way you clutched the brooch against your chest—

He was starving.

And you were divine.

Your nipples, so often imagined in his mind, now stood in stark reality beneath his gaze, peeking shyly through the damp, clinging linen. His breath caught, his chest rising too fast, too sharp.

Your face was flushed, burning beneath the weight of his stare. Your arm moved instinctively to shield yourself, but even then, you lifted your chin in defiance. As if daring him to look. As if testing his restraint.

He could feel it, the slow, inexorable crumble of the walls he had spent decades fortifying. Self-restraint be damned. He had spent too long denying himself, denying you.

If you wanted to use him, then let it be so. His body, this body that had felt too much pain, too much weight, too many scars of the past was yours if you wished to take it. He had been a fool to pretend otherwise, a coward for running from the inevitable.

Selfish. Greedy. Unworthy.

He would let himself be all of those things for you even if it tore open old wounds.

He feared how willing he was how, if you asked it, he would pluck the moon from the sky and place it in your hands. If you whispered for vengeance, he would spill blood at your feet. If you asked for a crown, he would slay angels to bring you their feathers.

If anyone dared lay a hand on you in malice, he would tear out their throat with his teeth. He would only stop if you commanded it. Almost akin to ordering a hound.

The last time he had felt this, he had lost everything. He had watched the woman he loved die, had let it happen. He had told himself, never again. He didn’t deserve to feel this way again. And yet, here you were, undoing him with kindness.

A slow, creeping, aching torture that seeped into his very marrow, turning him starved and desperate. It was scary how you could undo him so easily with your words, your temper, your body.

As if entranced, Vincent moved.

He climbed the steps, slow and deliberate, his crimson eyes locked onto yours. When he reached you, his hand lifted, fingers curling firmly but gently around your wrist.

You tensed, your breath hitching as he pulled your arm away from your chest, no longer letting you hide. But he didn’t just look—he sheltered you with the bulk of his body blocking the cool night air from touching your skin.

Your cheeks flushed deeper, a small, startled sound escaping you. A protest? A plea?

Vincent brought your wrist to his mouth, his lips brushing against the damp skin, soft and reverent. The heat of his breath sent a shiver through you, the contrast between warmth and the cool air almost dizzying.

He kissed his way down the delicate line of your arm, slow and thorough, as if apologizing for every unspoken word, every wound he had left on your heart.

Your breath stilled as he lingered at your wrist. His tongue flicked out, warm and teasing, tasting the beads of water clinging to your skin.

And in that moment, as he devoured you with his eyes, you realized,

You would let him get away with anything.

If only he kept looking at you like that, like you were his.

Only his.

"You can't just leave her b-behind," you stammered, your voice unsteady, both from nerves and the biting chill that Vincent's cloak could only shield so much. "You can leave me behind, but don't... don't leave her when she's so important to you." The last words stuck in your throat, thick with something unnamed.

A tear slipped down your cheek as your gaze dropped to his chest. You couldn’t meet his eyes anymore, couldn’t let him see the jealousy, the insecurity gnawing at you. You knew—this woman, the one his jewelry belonged to, he must have adored her. You had spent so many nights watching him stroke the space to the left of his heart, fingers brushing over the hidden keepsake, as if reassuring himself that it was still there.

You wanted to be the one who grounded him. You wanted to pull him from the tides of self-inflicted guilt, to anchor him here, with you. But if it was her memory that kept him whole, even in the smallest way, who were you to compare?

Even as your thoughts tangled, Vincent pressed forward, his steps deliberate, urging you back. The cold kiss of water met your skin before you realized it, your feet sinking into the fountain, the surface rippling up to your hips as he followed. He didn’t stop until your back met the cool stone of the sculpture, the carved woman standing behind you, her vase endlessly pouring water in the opposite direction, as if turning away from the two of you.

The lily pads and algae drifted apart around your bodies, disturbed by movement, a quiet acknowledgment of change.

A soft click echoed through the air. Then a splash.

Vincent's gauntlet hit the water, sinking beneath the surface, ripples stretching outward.

"She's a ghost," he murmured, his voice like velvet unraveling. There was no hesitation, no retreat—just him sinking to his knees before you, his hands settling at your hips, fingers warm against your skin.

Your breath caught.

"But—"

"You'll ruin me." His voice was raw, breaking at the edges, his hand tightening in the fabric of your soaked chemise. "Fuck—"clearly lost in how close you were, disregarding your concern of his past unrequited love.

It was the first time you had heard him swear. The way the word left his lips, a rasp dripping with want, sent a shiver down your spine. He was unraveling because of you. His fingers tangled in the wet fabric at your thighs, gripping it like he needed something to cling to, like you were the only thing holding him in place.

Your heart pounded, legs trembling as his hands traced over the pale expanse of your skin, slow, reverent. He knelt there, worshipping you with his touch, his mouth hovering just above your navel, the heat of his breath making your skin prickle.

You clutched the brooch so tightly that the metal bit into your palm.

"Stay," you whispered, pleaded, demanded, prayed. Your fingers tangled into his hair, gripping, pulling, needing.

Something in him fractured.

Vincent shrugged off his cloak in a single movement, tossing it over the fountain’s edge. The moonlight traced along the sharp lines of his shoulders, his chest narrowing into the water’s depths, his throat exposed to you. His lips parted slightly, his breath uneven. He was yours to observe, yours to claim.

And he let you.

All thoughts of leaving seemed to dissolve from his mind, because his grip on your waist tightened, his arms drawing you to him as he buried his face against your stomach. Your hands fisted in his hair as his lips pressed against the soaked fabric, mouth feverish, hungry. His teeth scraped against the linen, tugging, tasting. Desperate.

"Vincent—" you whined, but your hands still pulled him closer, fingers twisting in his hair as his gloved hands continued their slow exploration of your legs.

Anyone could step outside. The back garden only hid so much. But the thought of it—the risk—only made your pulse race faster.

Vincent pulled away from tracing the soft planes of your stomach, his breath warm against your skin. "If that's what you want… I won't try again."

"Promise," you whispered, though even you weren’t sure if you meant it.

His hand came up to yours, gently prying the brooch from your fingers and setting it onto the lip of the fountain’s edge. Then he used his teeth to tug off his glove, revealing the pale skin beneath, almost translucent barely luminescent under the moons light, veins faintly visible beneath the surface.

When he interlaced his bare fingers with yours, slowly and intentionally.

"I promise," he murmured. His crimson gaze flicked up to yours, then back down to where your hands fit together. His grip tightened at your hip, his voice rough with need. "I need you… need to worship you. But if you don’t want this—any of it—I’ll stop."

The certainty in his voice eased the tension in your body, but the heat in his eyes left you trembling, your arousal slick between your thighs, mixing with the water.

You nodded, breathless, then gave him the words too. "I won’t tell you to stop."

Vincent exhaled, something like relief slipping past his lips as his grip shifted. Your fingers tangled deeper into his raven hair, steadying you.

"We’ll see," he murmured, his breath ghosting over the inside of your thigh. His lips found purchase just above your knee, his bare hand sliding along your calf, lifting it from the water, resting it over his shoulder to expose you where he needed you. You were already soaked from water, but there was a lingering dark path along your lavender panties that made his throat tighten. Your toes barely grazed his back, and as he sank lower, his mouth following the path of his hands.

You shivered, sinking further into him, his hands trembling over your form, into this

Your stomach dropped. He was insatiable.

Vincent’s slender fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down with deliberate ease even reaching behind his head to pull it down over your foot. Dusky lavender, he had complimented the color on you once before when you wore a similar sweater.

He wasn’t a man of many words, but his mouth was far from inexperienced. He knew exactly where to graze his teeth, where to savor the tremble in your breath. The ends of his fingers coaxed your hips to relax, guiding you toward the warmth of his breath. Every exhale that ghosted against your skin was followed by lips and tongue feverishly tasting your body.

When he finally settled between your thighs, his gaze flicked up, inky lashes framing eyes that burned into you.

That look alone could ruin you. You realized in this moment you would never deny him and he would never deny you.

You surrendered completely, already pleading.

"Vincent… please… hah… no teasing."

Your neediness didn’t go unnoticed. His mouth descended, tongue sliding through your folds, savoring the taste of you with an approving hum. He licked into you languidly, as if he had been starving for you, ready to drown in your release.

His fingers dug into your hips, sure to leave bruises, anchoring you to him. You didn’t want him to let up. Your hips rocked into his mouth, your leg bouncing against his shoulder, toes curling every time he sucked your swollen clit into the heat of his mouth before letting it go with a soft pop.

The contrast of the cool water against his feverish tongue sent shocks through your core. Your release was already building—too fast, too much.

You weren’t a virgin, far from it. You had been with men who promised, I’ll make it up to you next time, as they left you aching, unfulfilled. You had never asked for this before. You hadn’t thought a man would want it, would yearn so badly for a taste of you.

But here, beneath the vast expanse of stars, you understood pleasure. And the man giving it to you would never leave you wanting.

His tongue circled your entrance, your name tumbling from your lips in gasps. His fingers massaged your thighs, slow, teasing. He was bringing you back out of the throws of your mind, into the moment with him. You wanted them inside, needed him to fill you as you were clenching around nothing, empty.

"Vin… I… I need it…" You whimpered, grinding into his chin, shameless in your desperation.

He groaned against your skin. "Anything. Tell me."

His voice was heavy, thick with need. He had dreamed of hearing you like this of you begging for him. He shuddered when your fingers tugged at his hair again, his scalp stinging, but he loved it.

"Your fingers…" you murmured, shyly. So cute.

His lips twitched, a ghost of a smirk playing there before he dipped his head back down, teasing your entrance with his tongue as his fingers traced over your slick folds. He wasn’t in a rush, he wanted to savor the way your body responded to him maybe commit it to memory for when he was alone with his thoughts.

When he finally sank a single finger inside, your world tilted. The stars above seemed closer, or maybe it was just the way he was pulling you apart. He worked you open slowly, despite your eager pleas for more. Another digit slipped in, curling, pressing into that spot that made your whole body jolt. He was so deliberate with the scissoring motion inside, brushing against your walls so well. You'd thank whoever got him into working with guns, because fuck was that trigger finger absolutely wrecking you at this moment.

His lips latched onto your clit again, tongue circling so thoroughly, so expertly that your slick coated his hand, your thigh trembling on one side of his head.

Your breaths grew heavier, muscles clenching around his fingers. Your mouth parted, curses spilling freely as you tried to muffle your cries behind your wrist. You had waited months for this—for him to touch you like this—and now you were falling apart too fast.

Vincent groaned at the sound of your pleasure, the need in your voice. He needed more of it, more of you. It took everything in him not to let you remove his belts with that look in your eyes, as if you were already fucking him in your mind.

"Bite me," you gasped. "Please, please—ah—" You requested so insistently as you caught a glimpse of those sharp teeth hiding behind his perfect lips. Your hands fisted in his hair, urging him closer. Tears pricked your eyes, overwhelmed by how good he was making you feel, how completely he was consuming you.

How could he deny you?

A low growl rumbled from his chest. His mouth found your hip, lips parting wide before his teeth sank into the soft flesh above the bone. His fingers thrust deeper, curling, twisting, fucking you open as you pulsed and clenched around him. His bite was firm, not enough to break skin, but enough to make you shudder. His tongue soothed the mark after, sucking at it as if imprinting himself onto you.

You keened, pleading for more, and he obeyed.

He trailed bite after bite, leaving bruises across your hip, up your stomach, his lips pressing reverent kisses over each one. He lingered just beneath your breast, hungry and fevered, his body rising with yours as he pushed up onto his knees. You tilted your chest into him, offering yourself.

Vincent's hands trembled as they slid over your curves, cupping your breast, kneading, pinching. His mouth found the stiff peak of your nipple, pulling it taut between his lips, tongue flicking as he moaned against you.

You tasted like rainwater and coconut balm.

His fingers teased your other breast, rolling it between his leather clad hand. Each gasp, each moan, each sweet, desperate sound made his pulse pound harder, his cock straining against the soaked leather of his pants.

"I'm gonna… don't stop… so good… your mouth—mmh."

Your words were a drug. He groaned against your skin, hips jerking involuntarily with nothing to grind into. He wouldn’t touch himself, not yet, not when he had you falling apart in his hands.

He wanted this moment. He wanted to feel you come undone.

With a trail of kisses to your navel, he whispered, "Let go for me."

His fingers plunged deeper, fucking into you at the rhythm of your pulse, coaxing you higher, higher—until you shattered.

Your climax crashed over you, your hips rocking erratically as his name tore from your throat. Your trembling hands muffled your cries, teeth biting into your wrist to keep yourself from screaming.

Vincent didn’t stop—wouldn’t stop—until your body was completely spent, your slick coating his fingers, dripping into the water. Only then did he slow, guiding you down, letting you ride out your release on his hand. His lips pressed one last kiss against your arousal, letting his tongue taste his reward with a moan. He lapped you up, stroking a broad stripe of his tongue across your folds. You tasted absolutely delicious, his favorite kind of bitter and sweet.

Gently he lowered your leg letting you settle against him. A dull ache formed between your hips, but the way Vincent touched you now which was so soft, so sweet, made it feel like nothing at all. He kissed up your stomach, up your ribs, up the bruising havoc he had left behind. A part of him was satisfied, but the rational part of him was disappointed in his lack of self restraint. Your hands slipped from his hair, fingers framing his face as he lifted himself to meet your gaze. His chin and mouth were glistening from your slick, like you marked him too. His dark crimson eyes burning with a lot of different emotions. Fear, lust, longing, relief, shame- but most of all-

Devoted. Utterly, irrevocably devoted to you.

"Thank you," You whispered, hoping he would understand you meant for more than bringing you to the pearly gates of heaven itself.

Your fingers slid beneath his jaw, brushing the tip of his ear as you cupped his face. Your breath hitched as you watched him lick your arousal from his lips, from his fingers, methodical and unbothered by shyness. His flushed face, his lidded gaze, he was wrecked, but he still looked at you like he wanted more.

That gave you the in you needed. You leaned in, and so did he, your lips meeting in a slow, tender kiss. You guided the kiss, parting and pressing your lips together again, tasting the salt and musk of yourself on his tongue as you licked inside his mouth. He let you explore, his hands settling at your lower back, thumbs rubbing slow circles into your muscles as you sighed into him. He was so tall compared to you even on his knees and it sent a thrill down your spine. His hands could splay easily around your waist, hips, back. You felt coveted.

His lips were everything you had imagined—soft, warm, chapped in places but perfect between your teeth. When his own scraped against your tongue, a new spark ignited in your veins, rekindling your excitement. You pushed impossibly closer, hardened nipples grazing the leather of his chest, hips pressing against his, his erection prominent beneath the layers of clothing and belts.

You wanted to drop to your knees, to worship him too. But his hands held you firm. He wasn’t letting you move an inch.

You didn’t know who pulled away first for breath, only that as he rose to his feet, you clung to him, a sudden fear creeping in, a fear that he would forget your newfound promise.

But instead, Vincent knocked your legs out from under you with his forearm, catching you effortlessly against his chest. Your arms tightened around his shoulders, the water sloshing at his knees as he carried you toward the edge of the fountain.

"I didn’t give you anything," you murmured, your pout betraying your worry. You didn’t want this to be one-sided. You didn’t want to use him.

He barely paused as he stepped out of the water, carrying you with ease. "It’s fine," he murmured. "You’ve given enough."

There was a hesitation, barely a flicker, before his lips pressed softly to your head. You felt him inhale deeply before straightening again, adjusting you in his hold as he reached out, slinging his wet cloak over his shoulder.

The brooch lay on the stone’s edge, caught between his fingers. For a moment, he looked at it, as if debating whether to toss it back into the water—or keep it.

You answered the question in his eyes with a soft smile. Your hand moved to his, fingers curling over his where they held the brooch, and you clenched his fingers around it.

It was enough.

He could remember his past love. Remember who he was. You would never ask him to give that up. It made him the man you desired right now. You knew, in some way, that you could accept this ghost of his past. And you wouldn’t let a memory stop you from your pursuit of his heart.

As he carried you back toward the inn, you asked again, just needing to hear it one more time.

"You’ll stay… right?"

Vincent’s voice was velvet, rich in your ears. "I’ll stay."

In the stretching silence save for the sound of his walk and wet leather, you decided to say what you needed to while you still had a strum of bravado in you.

"I like you," you blurted out, chest tightening the moment the words left your mouth.

Vincent’s lips quirked into that charming, maddening half-smile.

"Oh?" His skin flushed at your admission, but instead of answering right away, he brushed a strand of hair from your cheek, an affectionate, unhurried gesture. He didn’t know if he was ready to name the feeling in his chest, but he could accept yours. Slowly if you would put up with it.

"You make it very clear—"

Your mouth fell open. He was teasing you.

Heat flared across your face, even down your neck. Had he noticed? The way you grumbled every time other women giggled at the mere sight of him? The way your eyes lingered when he walked past, hips swaying just enough to drive you crazy?

"I-I do not…" you tried to refute, but he only laughed. A soft, low sound that sent warmth straight through you.

"Mm." He pretended to agree, setting you down gently as you reached the front entrance of the inn. You were chilled to the bone, your body still sticky, exhaustion settling in from the night’s activities. Vincent looked entirely too smug as you wobbled slightly on your feet, and before you could recover, he pushed the door open.

The pub was quiet, lit only by a single candle on the bar. No one awake except for Cid, hunched over with a bottle in hand.

You immediately wanted to run past in embarrassment, pressing closer to Vincent. How were you going to hide your practically naked form?

He sighed, fingers lacing with yours as he pulled you behind him to give you some shred of decency, already dreading Cid’s brashness. But luck wasn’t on your side. The old man turned, grinning far too wide the moment he saw you both.

"Finally put an end to your lovers’ quarrel, huh?" Cid hooted, lifting his bottle. "’Bout damn time! Tired of watchin’ you two eye-fuck each other across the damn plane."

You buried your burning face against the middle of Vincent’s back with a groan.

"And it’s bad enough with those three," he jerked a thumb toward the hallway and set of stairs, letting out a loud laugh implying that you were as bad as Cloud, Tifa, and Aerith. That trifecta was incredibly entertaining, but annoying to witness at the same time.

Vincent sighed again, long and suffering, his thumb rubbing against your knuckles in warning before pulling you past the drunkard and toward the stairs trying to cover you but it was hard without the bulk of his cloak around him. He was quite a slender man towards his waist and hips, not quite built like a soldier, but rather like a turk. All lean and sinewy for quick attacks.

"Don’t forget, these walls are real thin!" Cid hollered after you with a chortle.

Vincent didn’t stop, dragging you down the hall before the embarrassment could suffocate you. You had never been more grateful for the quiet of the upstairs corridor. Four doors lined the hallway. Yours was at the very end, and Vincent’s which you were standing in front of it now. He had never willed himself to knock on your door before. Not even when he had slipped that note beneath your pillow in the dead of night. It still annoyed him that you never locked it, who were you hoping to meet in there? Was it him?

"I’m so tired," you mumbled, nudging his door open before he could suggest otherwise. "I’ll berate that bastard tomorrow."

The door clicked shut behind the both of you, and before he could process the moment, you were stripping. His eyes tracked the movement, the flex of your muscles as you worked the soaked fabric over your head.

Heat flared low in his stomach. Hard again. Behamaut save him.

Images flickered through his mind in rapid succession, your face pressed into his pillows, your lips wrapped around him, your hands gripping his hips as he took you for the first time in languid strokes. Your tongues exploring each other, his hands guiding your hips astride him, your fingers controlling his hair as his mouth performed his prayer...

His restraint wavered, were his knees about to become familiar with every inn floor in the future? A new religion blossoming between the apex of your thighs.

You snapped him out of it with a simple, innocent question. "Do you have anything I can wear?" your arms covering across your chest.

Vincent cleared his throat, shaking off the fantasy.

"Uh." He coughed, lowering his chin slightly, an old habit from when he could hide behind his crimson cowl. Right. Clothes.

He turned away, rummaging through his drawer until he found a tight compression shirt and a pair of his usual black briefs. Tossing them in your direction, he didn’t miss the mischievous smirk playing on your lips when you motioned for him to turn around with a twirl of your finger.

He complied.

The shuffling of fabric behind him tested his patience, especially when your scent lingered in the air, still warm, still intoxicating. He just busied his hands on hanging his wet cloak up on the dresser, hopefully by tomorrow it would dry out.

Then, your hands slid around his waist.

"You should change too," you murmured, lips pressing against the damp leather of his shoulder. Vincent turned to face you, tilting your chin up.

The air between you thickened. His greedy mouth claimed yours again, unable to help himself, hands trailing down your back. The compression shirt he had given you hung low at your hips, but it was tight at your chest, the fabric stretching where your breasts filled it out. He was definitely still a man underneath all of his armor.

You gasped his name, pressing into him, and he was unraveling all over again. His self-control frayed at the edges, his hands aching to rip that shirt off you again. Or maybe you could keep it on while he-

With a low groan, he forced himself to pull away, even though it pained him to do so. He knew you were tired, didn't want to increase the intimacy ten fold in one night when he had been on the verge of disappearing entirely.

Slow down. He told himself.

"Get comfortable," he murmured, motioning toward the bed.

Then, he turned away, undoing the buttons of his vest, but keeping himself out of your sight.

Vincent grabbed a bundle of fresh clothes and slipped into the tiny washroom, barely large enough to turn around in. He pulled them on quickly, not bothering to glance at himself. He wouldn’t ruin the night by standing there, picking himself apart. He just wanted to get back to you, sink into the covers, and fall asleep.

He wouldn’t leave again. Not if it meant seeing you cry like that.

The image of you charging through the grass, his crumpled note clenched in your fist, tear-streaked and furious, nearly brought him to his knees even now. He had made you sob, shake, scream at him. He figured he’d be making it up to you for a long time.

Stepping back into the room, he hesitated, spotting you curled up on his bed, face half-buried in his pillow. Something stirred, deep and unfamiliar.

He had never had someone sleep in his arms before. Not like this.

Sure, he had fucked before. Back when the human part of him still craved warmth, still sought out pleasure in tangled blankets and breathless gasps. But even then, his thoughts had been elsewhere. His body gave, but his heart remained locked behind bars.

But tonight?

His thoughts were only of you.

You had overtaken him completely, and he knew now—it would never be anyone else.

His feet felt too heavy as he neared the bed, as if something about this was too intimate, too real. His body wasn’t used to this kind of closeness, not after years of solitude. But you were already there, already taking up space in his life in a way that terrified him.

Carefully, stiffly, he slid under the blankets, trying not to disturb you too much. He hesitated, unsure where to place himself. His body felt too big, too cold, too unnatural for this.

Then, as if sensing his awkwardness, you shifted. Pressed your back into his chest- Sought him out.

Vincent exhaled sharply. His arm moved on instinct, resting over your waist. His fingers twitched, as if debating whether to hold you tighter. Unrelenting, he thought of his own greed, but he didn’t move away. You nuzzled into his pillow with a sleepy sigh and he felt like you wormed your way into his chest with that adorable hitch in your rhythmic breathing. He'd much rather just watch you sleep, he didn't truly need slumber at all. It did nothing for him most of the time, not like it once had.

You were so warm though. Inviting him to rest his weary self with you and something about sleeping with you felt more intimate than sex or devouring you in the fountain. He had almost thrown this away. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deep, committing your scent to memory. His grip tightened slightly despite the whispers in his head.

"You’ll be the one to hurt her. You’re going to bury her when this is over."

He swallowed thickly, squeezing his eyes shut.

With your breath steady in his ears, your presence anchoring him in ways he didn’t understand quite yet, words he couldn't fathom, Vincent let sleep pull him under.

It was the deepest, peaceful rest he had known since waking from his coffin.

BONUS: [The next morning you would unfortunately find yourself mortified to have found yuffie beat you to the punch, digging your wet underwear, clothes, and Vincent's gauntlet from the fountain with a horrified look on her face. You would hide behind the corner of the inn, wanting to dig your palms into your eyes in humiliation.

"V-vincent got laid?!" She exclaimed in both horror and amusement with a bright grin stretching over her lips. She was going to tease him relentlessly for sure.

You groaned and shuffled back inside the inn without a word, passing everyone at the counter. You'd let Vincent collect his gauntlet on his own when he woke up.]

[yuujispunches]

Silk and sharp edges ~ T.F.

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Summary: Toji Fushiguro hated doing babysitting jobs, specially when they involved protecting spoiled rich brats but when he starts realising that you aren’t one it somehow makes it even worse.

CW (content warning): bodyguard!Toji, mentions of blood, mentions of guns, Toji should kind of be a warning of it’s own really, MDNI (+18), p in v sex (it’s not too graphic but still).

AN: Hi guys! I have a kind of love-hate relationship with Toji but while I was writing this I had fun and somehow I ended up kind of falling in love with him somehow 🙃 Anyways, thanks for all the support I’m getting, I never really thought about posting my writing but seeing people enjoying it is really great hahaha. As always a reminder that English isn’t my first language and I’m typing this on my phone so I’m sorry if there’re any typos/mistakes. Enjoy and let me know what you think! :)

Requests are open so feel free to send yours! (you can check the list of characters I wrote for on my pinned post)

Masterlist

Toji Fushiguro hated jobs that came with strings.

Babysitting contracts were the worst of them. High-profile clients, extra rules, fragile egos, and zero payoff outside the paycheck. Which, granted, was substantial this time. Obscene, even. But that only made him more suspicious.

“Bodyguard gig.” Shiu had said, handing over the file. “Private client. Not a cursed user. Political ties. Possibly targeted. You’ll live on-site.”

Toji raised an eyebrow. “You left out the part where it’s a spoiled brat in a luxury tower.”

Shiu just grinned without denying it, seemingly amused for some reason. “Are you saying you’re scared of rich girls, Fushiguro?”

He took the file. Didn’t smile. “I’m saying I charge double for civilians who think they’re invincible.”

——————————————————————————

He expected gold-leaf doors, champagne attitudes, and demands he’d ignore. What he didn’t expect was silence.

You opened the door yourself.

No assistant. No security team. Just you in a knit sweater too big for your frame, sleeves swallowed by your hands, eyes soft with the kind of quiet that unsettled him more than arrogance ever could.

“You’re early.” You said. Your voice was gentle. Clear. No perfume choked the air. No pretense in your tone.

Toji blinked. “And you’re not what I expected.”

You smiled faintly. “Most people expect pearls and daddy’s credit card.”

He didn’t respond, but his expression must’ve said enough, because your smile shifted turning smaller and, if you looked king enough, sadder.

“I don’t bite.” You added, stepping aside to let him in.

Toji stepped through the doorway and into something that, for the first time in a long time, made him feel restless.

——————————————————————————

You were soft. That was the first thing he really noticed.

Not weak. Not clueless. Just… soft. The kind of person who brewed two mugs of tea when only one was needed. Who remembered how he liked his eggs after the second morning. Who apologized when you accidentally interrupted his workout, like it wasn’t your own home.

You didn’t ask stupid questions. Didn’t treat him like hired help. Didn’t even seem all that interested in why you needed protection, although Toji figured you knew more than you let on.

Instead, you simply coexisted beside him. Always kind. Always careful.

He hated it.

Because it made him notice you.

——————————————————————————

You read at night. That’s when he first began watching you.

Not because he had to but because you were always there. Tucked into a chair, reading something he couldn’t pronounce. Sometimes you hummed without realizing it. Sometimes you looked out the window for hours.

One night, after a storm passed, you caught him lingering in the hallway and asked. “Do you sleep at all?”

Toji crossed his arms. “I’m not on vacation.”

You tilted your head. “You don’t have to be miserable about it.”

“I’m not.”

You laughed softly. “You say that like it’s a threat.”

And just like that, he was in trouble.

——————————————————————————

The quiet built slowly between you.

It wasn’t hostile. It wasn’t even awkward. Just two people orbiting each other carefully. He with his locked jaw and slow glances, you with your open warmth and soft footsteps.

He noticed you never yelled. Never cursed. Never even raised your voice when upset. But you still somehow filled every room with presence. It got under his skin.

Toji had dealt with every kind of client: arrogant, paranoid, seductive, insufferable. But he didn’t know what to do with someone who was simply… kind. Especially not when they directed that kindness at him.

“You don’t have to pretend to like me.” He muttered one morning, finding you in the kitchen making him coffee without being asked.

You blinked at him, unbothered. “I’m not pretending.”

He almost believed you.

——————————————————————————

Things changed the first time you got scared.

It was a simple moment. A broken window. An attempted breach. One intruder, a professional, but not skilled enough to avoid Toji.

It was over in minutes. Blood on the marble. Sirens on standby. And then you, there shaking, barefoot, wide-eyed while coming down the stairs with a whisper-soft. “Are you okay?”

Toji wiped the blood from his knuckles and turned to look at you. “That’s supposed to be my line.”

You didn’t smile. You looked pale.

He watched you sink to the floor, knees folding under you, breath catching in your throat. He crouched in front of you, unsure why he didn’t just walk away.

“Hey.” His voice was low. “It’s over. You’re okay.”

You nodded. But your eyes were still glassy, far away.

And then something he didn’t expect. You reached out and touched his hand. Not clingy. Not desperate. Just needing something solid. Real.

Toji didn’t move. He couldn’t.

He let you hold on.

——————————————————————————

After that, something changed.

You kept your distance but you glanced at him more often. Brushed past him a little closer. Sat near him on the couch, the space between you shrinking by degrees.

And Toji, for all his resolve, let it happen.

Against every instinct, he let himself like the way you softened the silence. How you’d hum while making tea. How you’d whisper “goodnight” even when you knew he wouldn’t answer.

You asked him one night, voice barely above a breath. “Do you ever get tired of pretending not to care?”

Toji stared at the floor. “No.”

But that was a lie. And you both knew it.

——————————————————————————

The night you touched his face, it nearly broke him.

You were sitting beside him on the balcony. It was late. The city was sleeping beneath you.

“I don’t understand you.” You whispered, looking out into the dark.

Toji didn’t turn to you. “Most people don’t.”

“You act like nothing matters. But you’re always the first to get between me and a bullet.”

Still, he didn’t look at you.

“I think you care more than you know how to admit.” You said.

And then, slowly, you reached up and touched his jaw. Gentle, like the breeze, like silk on scar tissue.

Toji caught your wrist. Held it there. His breath caught, and so did yours.

And for one terrifying second, he almost leaned in.

But he didn’t.

He let go. Stood there for a moment, his eyes searching your face for something neither of you could put your finger in. Walked away.

——————————————————————————

He couldn’t sleep that night.

He watched the security feed for hours. Checked the perimeter. Avoided his reflection in every mirror. Because if he looked, he’d see it.

He wanted you.

Not just your skin, not just your body. He wanted the quiet you carried, the peace he didn’t deserve. He wanted your voice in the morning and your hand in the dark.

And that meant danger. For both of you. Because Toji Fushiguro didn’t fall for people. People got hurt when he did.

——————————————————————————

He started pulling back.

Late mornings. Fewer conversations. No more soft glances in the hallway. He avoided your touch like it burned. Because it did.

And you? You were patient, definitely too good for him. You let him.

But your eyes followed him like they always had. Gentle. Understanding.

It made him want to scream.

——————————————————————————

“You’re avoiding me.”

Your voice broke the stillness one evening, after dinner. You stood in the doorway of the kitchen, arms crossed, soft and sad.

Toji didn’t turn around. “I’m doing my job.”

“You weren’t doing it like this before.”

He was silent.

“You think if you push me away, I won’t notice you.”

Still, silence.

“But I do notice you, Toji.”

His name on your lips hit him like a blow.

“You’re the only person I feel safe around.” You continued. “And you’re the only one who looks at me like I’m not made of glass.”

Toji finally turned. His jaw was tight. His eyes tired.

“You shouldn’t look at me like I’m someone worth trusting.”

“But I do.”

His voice dropped. “You shouldn’t.”

“Why?” you asked. “Because you think you’ll hurt me?”

“Because I will.”

The silence that followed was heavier than any scream.

Toji left the room.

Not because he wanted to but because if he stayed, he’d do something he couldn’t take back.

Like touch you again or worse. He’d tell you the truth.

——————————————————————————

Toji didn’t sleep that night either.

The rain came again. Thin. Steady. The kind that fills your chest with things you don't want to feel.

He stood outside your door once. Hand poised in the air, not quite touching the wood. His shadow lingered under the hall light. He didn’t knock. Didn’t move.

He just stood there and he hated himself for it.

——————————————————————————

You didn’t try to talk to him the next morning. Or the one after that.

You didn’t avoid him. Didn’t give him some cold, pointed silence. No dramatics. No bitterness.

You just kept being you. Soft. Steady. Warm in a way that made him ache.

That, somehow was way worse.

——————————————————————————

The breach happened on the third night. Two men this time. Armed. Professional. One made it inside.

Toji caught him at the top of the stairs. Fast. Efficient. Brutal. But it wasn’t fast enough.

He heard the crash in your room. Heard the scream-

By the time he burst through the door, the second intruder had you cornered.

Toji didn’t hesitate.

Gun. Two shots. One breath. The man dropped.

You did too.

Not hit. Not bleeding. Just trembling.

And for the first time in years, Toji’s hands shook as he pulled you into him.

“You’re okay.” He whispered into your hair. Over and over. Not sure if it was for you or for himself.

You clung to him. Not like someone helpless, but like someone tired of pretending they weren’t afraid.

Your voice was a whisper against his chest. “I thought you weren’t going to come.”

“I always come.” He said, low and rough. “Even when I shouldn’t.”

You leaned back to look at him, pulling away ever so slightly. The closeness between you was sharp now. Real. Like everything had peeled itself raw.

You were crying, but quietly. You weren’t asking him to fix it. Just be there.

That, he could do.

He touched your face. Thumb brushed your cheek.

“You keep doing this.” He murmured, pained, as if saying those words hurt him more than the cuts in his knuckles. “You keep being soft. Even after all this.”

“And you keep acting like that’s a problem.” You whispered back.

His thumb slowed. His hand stilled.

“It is.”

And then he kissed you. It wasn’t careful. It was deep. Starving. Like a dam breaking.

You tasted like tears and relief. Your hands were in his hair. His grip was firm on your waist, pulling you closer like he needed to feel all of you to believe you were still breathing.

He broke the kiss once, just to whisper. “Tell me to stop.”

You shook your head, eyes dark and wide. “Don’t you dare.”

And that was it.

——————————————————————————

Toji carried you to the bed. Not because it was romantic, but because his knees almost buckled when you kissed him again.

Clothes peeled off slowly. Not in a rush. Not desperate. Just needing contact. Skin against skin. Proof of life.

He paused when he saw you bare beneath him.

You weren’t fragile. But you were beautiful. Not in some glossed-up, perfect way. Just real. Open. Vulnerable in a way he hadn’t let himself be with anyone.

“You’re shaking.” You whispered.

“Yeah.” He breathed out. “So are you.”

You smiled. “Then we match.”

Toji kissed every inch of you like he was learning a language no one had ever taught him. His kisses descended down your body. First your neck, stopping at your pulse point, whether it was for your pleasure or to make sure you still had one, you didn’t know.

He didn’t rush. Every touch was deliberate as he watched your every breath.

Your hands touched every scar. Your lips brushed his jaw, his chest, his ribs. When you whispered his name, he closed his eyes like it hurt to hear it.

There was no time for foreplay, you didn’t need it anyways, you just needed to feel him, to know that this was real.

When he pushed into you, slow and careful making you gasp softly and buried your face against his shoulder.

He held you. Not just your body. You.

The sound you made when your hips lifted to meet his made him curse under his breath.

“You’re too good.” He rasped. “Too fucking good to want someone like me.”

You reached up and touched his face, just like before.

“You’re the only one who makes me feel safe.”

That nearly broke him again. He made love to you like he was trying to erase every ghost in his body.

You clung to him. Not because you needed to but because you chose to. That made it worse. That made it unbearable.

You arched beneath him, gasping his name again and again. You dragged him down into the mattress and kissed him like you knew how broken he was and didn’t care.

When you came, your breath hitched and your body trembled and he didn’t stop whispering your name until you stilled.

When he came, it hit him so hard he choked on it. Your name was on his lips like a prayer.

——————————————————————————

You lay tangled after. Skin against skin. Legs over legs. His hand on your hip, grounding him. Your fingers tracing the shape of his jaw like you couldn’t stop.

No one spoke for a while. The storm moved on.

His heart didn’t.

“You’re not a monster.” You whispered into the dark.

He didn’t move.

You ran your fingers over a scar near his ribs. “You think you don’t deserve peace. But you do.”

Toji exhaled. Long. Shaky.

You leaned closer, voice still low. “I don’t want a perfect man, Toji. I just want you.”

That did it.

He pulled you into him like he couldn’t breathe otherwise. Buried his face in your shoulder. Didn’t say a word.

You didn’t ask him to because you already knew.

——————————————————————————

Days passed differently after that.

You didn’t announce anything. Didn’t make him define it.

But Toji was different. He sat closer. Touched your back in passing. Let his hand linger on yours longer than necessary.

When you made him tea, he actually said thank you. Once, he brought you flowers. When you asked why, he just shrugged. You kissed him anyway.

——————————————————————————

The job didn’t end with fireworks. No final boss. No last stand.

Just the threat dying down, the client choosing to keep the protector and Toji staying even when he could’ve left.

Because this time… he didn’t want to.

“You’re still here.” You said one morning, wrapped in his hoodie, eyes sleepy but clear.

Toji looked up from his coffee. “You say that like it’s a surprise.”

You smiled. “It is. But I’m glad.”

He watched you for a long moment. Then he reached for your hand across the table.

“You scare me.” He confessed simply.

You squeezed his hand.

“You scare me too.”

And somehow, that was enough.

Tags: @pickledsoda @noooo-onee @hawkwithsocks

Taglist is open so let me know if you want to be added for future works! :)

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ sober thoughts ] n. hischier

paring: Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary : Nico appears on his best friend’s doorstep after the Stadium Series win and confessions are made

warning(s) : slightly drunk nico, mentions of alcohol (but no actual alcohol consumption involved)

author’s note : pls ignore any typos bc i thought of this while drunk and wrote it while tipsy so i will go back and edit when i am 100% sober. it’s a v short and cute thing that i wanted to write (even tho i am working on like 7 different requests rn)

༺═──────────────═༻

The moment ‘nico 🏒🤍’ appears on her phone screen, she thinks something is wrong. She’s especially worried because it’s nearly two in the morning. Something could be seriously wrong.

The last time they talked, Nico was getting in an Uber to go to the bar after they won the Stadium Series game against the Flyers. That was a half hour after the end of the game and nearly three hours ago at this point.

A very exhausted and confused (Y/N) quickly answers the phone as soon as she processes what’s going on.

“Are you okay?” she asks, voice slurred with sleep. “Do I need to come get you from the bar?”

“I’m outside your apartment building,” he tells her. “Can I please come inside? It’s so cold outside and I just played a game in this weather. Please let me in.”

She rolls over and turns on her bedside lamp before she walks to the window. Outside on the sidewalk stands her best friend and captain of the New Jersey Devils. He smiles up at her and waves. “Oh my God,” she gasps as she puts on a pair of slippers. “Why are you just standing outside my building like that?”

“Because I missed you and wanted to see you,” he tells her as she grabs her keys and leaves her apartment. “It felt very wrong that I wasn’t celebrating with my best friend after one of the most amazing games and one of the most beautiful moments of my career. If I woke you up, I’m sorry.”

Without tripping down any stairs, she says, “It’s okay. I was just worried you were passed out on the side of the road in East Rutherford.” She pushes the main entrance door open. “Yet here you are on my doorstep.”

Nico smiles and stumbles up the steps after he hangs up the phone when he sees her. He trips on the last step. She catches him and he catches himself on the doorway. She can smell the alcohol on his breath because of how close they are to each other, yet her heart races in her chest since they’re so close to each other.

“Are you drunk?” she asks as she backs away from him with a look on her face. “How did you get here? Don’t tell me you drove because I might kill you and your team is going to be left without a captain.”

“I’ve had a few drinks,” he admits to her. “I took an Uber because I did have a few drinks. I didn’t drive here. Don’t worry. I still have brain cells.”

Nico walks into the building in a hoodie and jeans instead of the tracksuit he showed up to MetLife in. She’s happy he is in actual clothes because if he showed up in that tracksuit, she might lose it.

“Why did you come here instead of going home?” she questions as they make their way up to her apartment. “I thought that maybe after the game you’d celebrate with your teammates then go home to sleep.”

They walk into the apartment as soon as she unlocks the door. “I told you that I wanted to come celebrate with my best friend,” he replies. She closes the door behind her. “Especially since I couldn’t get you into the stadium to watch the game. I wanted you to be a part of this day.”

She pouts and sits on the couch as Nico turns on one of the lamps. “Your family flew in for the game,” she says to him. “I shouldn’t take priority over them. I get to see you play all the time. They don’t.”

He sits next to her. Not too close but close enough where she can feel the heat coming off his body. If he were to move his knee, it would bump into hers.

“You’re my family too,” Nico softly says. “I wanted you to be there.”

“I’m your friend, Nico,” she sighs. “I’m not your girlfriend or your wife. I didn’t need to be there.”

It feels like she is trying to convince herself too because sometimes the line blurs. Sometimes she doesn’t know what she is to him. She has to remind herself that they aren’t together, and probably will never be together.

A moment of silence falls over them. She looks at her hands on her lap while she plays with her thumbs. Nico’s big brown eyes never leave her while she avoids looking at him.

Nico sighs and practically whispers, “I wished you were there as my girlfriend.”

Her head snaps up and she blinks at him. “You what?”

“I wished you were at the game as my girlfriend,” Nico repeats. “The entire time I wished that you were at the family skate and sitting in the suite with everyone else’s families. I wished you had one of those cute jackets that the wives and girlfriends had with my number on it.”

She stares at him until he’s done talking. Then she starts to shake her head. “You’re just saying that because you have been drinking,” she replies. “You don’t actually mean that.”

Never once has Nico shown that he wanted to be in any kind of romantic relationship with her. He’s never given her any kind of hint or sign that he wanted to be more than just friends with her.

They’ve known each other since Nico moved to the US in 2017 to play in the NHL and never once did it seem like he wanted something more.

There is no way he means that.

“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” he says.

“Then tell me when you’re sober,” she retorts. “Tell me in the morning if you actually mean it.”

Nico frowns and brushes a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “Schätzli, you have no idea how long I have wanted to tell you that,” he tells her. “I guess I’ll just have to wait until I wake up before I tell you again.”

Almost as if on cue, he yawns. “Go to sleep, Nico,” she says to him. “Tell me whatever you want in the morning. You know where the guest room is but do you need my help in getting there?”

He shakes his head and sinks down against the back of the couch. “I’ll get there eventually,” he replies. “You can go back to sleep.”

With a nod, she stands up. Nico’s eyes are half open so she takes off his shoes and pulls his legs up onto the cushions. She grabs a blanket to throw over him as he lets out soft snores. The alcohol has finally caught up to him and knocked him out.

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to hear you say that you wanted me to be your girlfriend,” she whispers to a sleeping Nico. “All it took you was having a few drinks and winning a big game before you told me how you felt.”

She presses a soft kiss to his temple before she retreats down the hallway to her bedroom just in case he wasn’t actually asleep.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The smell of coffee is the thing that wakes her up in the morning. Not the sunlight or an alarm. Coffee. It takes a second before she remembers that Nico stayed over.

She remembers Nico telling her that he wishes she was at the Stadium Series game as his girlfriend. She has no idea if he remembers that he said that to her.

It’s time to find out.

Slowly, she makes her way out to the kitchen. She finds Nico standing at the coffee machine with his back to the hallway. She yawns and walks into the kitchen area.

“Morning,” she softly says so she doesn’t scare him. He turns his head and looks at her. “You making coffee?”

Nico nods and pours them both a cup. He puts cream in her cup and hands it to her. “I figured we could both use a cup,” he tells her. “Me to get rid of this hangover and you because I woke you up at two in the morning.”

She blows on her coffee before taking a sip. “How much of last night do you remember?” she curiously asks as she leans against the counter beside him.

The moment of silence that follows worries her. He probably doesn’t remember what he said, and she isnt going to remind him if he doesn’t remember.

He takes a sip of his own coffee before he asks, “Are you asking me if I remember telling you that I wish you were my girlfriend? Yes, if that’s the case. I told you that I meant it.”

“And you’re sober?”

“Very,” Nico replies. “And very hungover.”

It surprises her to the point where she almost drops her cup of coffee. Her eyes widen and Nico smiles. “Nico, I could kill you and kiss you at the same time because why did it take you playing in one of the biggest games in your career before you-”

Nico takes the cup of coffee out of her hand while she’s talking then cuts her off by bringing his lips to hers. She gasps in surprise then melts against him as he presses her against the counter. She wraps her arms around his neck and puts her fingers in his hair so he can’t break the kiss.

Never in her life did she think that she would be in her kitchen kissing her best friend of nearly seven years. The thought only occurred in dreams and occasionally during games when she found him attractive, which is really all the time.

This is something she has wanted for two years. Since the moment she realized that she was in love with Nico.

He lifts her up and sits her down on the counter. He stands between her knees and rests his hands on her thighs.

It becomes too much for her and she has to pull back for a second to breathe. Her eyes meet his and finds worry in them. “I just- I don’t think you understand how long I have waited for this,” she breathes out. “Wanted this. Wanted you. I just need a second.”

Nico smiles and pushes her hair behind her ears before he cups her jaw. “I’m such an idiot for waiting so long before I told you,” he replies. “I think I’ve loved you since the moment I met you, Schätzli.” His voice drops to nearly a whisper and his thumbs brush her cheekbones.

“We’re both idiots,” she tells him. “I’m glad you meant it though. I thought you were going to get my hopes up.”

He shakes his head and kisses her nose. “I would never lie to you about loving you.”

“Well I love you too,” she says. “Just so you know.”

Nico laughs and envelopes her in a hug. She smiles and happily accepts the hug.

“I told you that drunk words are sober thoughts.”

“I believe you now.”

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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[cowboykento]

cw: somno, brief/vague mention of prior consent, but tagged as dub con just in case. i wrote this half asleep and high sorry if there’s typos

cowboy!nanami wakes up with a problem one morning. specifically, he’s so, painfully hard, his dick pressing against your ass. your back is pressed against his chest, your slow, steady breathing soft as you sleep peacefully.

fuck, he’s so hard and the pressure of your body against his is doing things to his head—distracting him, serving only to turn him on more. his arms are wrapped around you, his hands resting under your shirt. he thinks it would be so easy to just move his hands up to grope your tits. god, if he could just pinch your nipple…

his desires are cut off by you, shifting in his arms. his eyes roll back in his head when your ass presses harder against his erection. a groan slips from his lips that he can only try to quiet.

he doesn’t want to wake you up just to take care of his problem, but he just can’t bring himself to let go of you.

but fuck, he needs to cum. he needs you.

cowboy!nanami has always prided himself on being a gentleman. someone people could trust, rely on, love. and he’s always been that to you.

but right now, he thinks of every time you’ve ever looked up at him through your lashes, telling him he could do whatever he wanted to you… it was too much.

he reached his hand up to palm one of your tits, rolling the fat in his hand greedily. he can’t help his hips as they shallowly rut against you.

you let out a soft sigh, but continue dreaming as kento lets himself get a little more carried away.

his other hand sneaks down the front of your body, to the waistband of your panties. of course you hadn’t worn anything but a t-shirt and panties to bed—it was like you were asking him to fuck you.

his finger finds your clit and he gives it a soft pinch, just enough for your body to squirm against him. fuck, he thinks, he just needs to fuck you right now.

he shuffles out of his boxers, his cock aching and flushed from how desperate you made him.

he pulls your panties to the side and rubs his cock against your folds, moaning at how wet you were. he just lazily thrusts against you like that for a while, his hand gripping your waist and keeping you still, occasionally reaching over to rub your clit.

“mm,” you moan out softy, eyes barely fluttering open. “ken, wha-“

“shh, baby, shh, just let me use you. please, need you so bad, darlin’, you have no idea,” he groans, his voice coming from a well of desperation within him.

you smile and shuffle back against him, grinding yourself against his cock.

“fuck, princess, just go back to sleep, let me use you for a bit. such a perfect fuckin’ pussy.”

“put it in, ken,” you whisper, and he’s sure his heart is exploding with love for you.

“whatever my baby wants,” he replies, his tip catching against your entrance.

slow, deep thrusts have kento groaning deep in your ear as you teeter on consciousness. he swears your pussy it’s just sucking him in, making it nearly impossible to leave your snug walls.

“‘m so close, darlin’, so close. gonna cum right in your pussy, keep you stuffed nice and full so we can go back to sleep. ya want that, baby?”

only a small whimper comes from you in response, and kento takes it as his permission to wreck your cunt.

his thrusts become a little faster, a little sloppier as he approaches his orgasm. his mind is clouded with thoughts of you, you, you.

he feels the coil in his tummy wind tighter and tighter, becoming so taught that it has no choice but to snap. kento cums with a loud groan of your name as he fucks himself through it, pushing his thick load into your pussy.

his hips slow down as his cock softens, a warm blanket of contentment resting over both of you.

kento kisses the back of your neck reverently, a silent thank you for trusting him enough to let him use your body like that.

like he promised, he keeps his dick in you, keeping you stuffed full of him.

his lips press against the shell of your ear, “i’ll return the favor when we wake up, darlin’. let you feel good, like you deserve.”

the aching need and desire he’d felt gone, and replaced with something much more gentle and tender. he presses a few more kisses along your neck before drifting off to sleep with you.

cowboy!kento masterlist

sfw cowboy!kento masterlist

[osiiiris]

This is the complete reportage of the April 19 ritual in London.

Sorry for any mistakes, but unless stated, I’m certain than everything I wrote happened and I have everything on my notebook, but sometimes it was hard to write in the dark so I lost some pieces or messed up some parts.

Also sorry for any typo or English mistakes… by the time I post this I’ll be already sleeping.

Pre-show

The queueing was a mess for how I lived that. It could be that I didn’t know the venue, but it was hard to find my entrance and generally nodoby knew what queue they were in. The VIP and the general standing were queueing at the same entrance but in different directions, and I don’t know why but a number of other queues started to create in different directions, sometimes cutting through the queue we general standing were in. I don’t understand how they managed it. Once inside, everything ran smoothly and fast.

Jesus himself entertained us during the waiting, from one of the upper seats.

About 15 minutes before the start of the concert, a piano base started. It went on for a couple of minutes and then it changed to Miserere Mei Deus.  

At 8.30 PM, the concert started.

Show

I don’t know if the stage adapts to the dimensions of the arena, but it looked bigger in pictures. At the sides there are big screens where the concert is projected in real time, and that’s a very good thing because you are always able to have a clear vision of what is happening.

In general, I found the succession of songs very fast (sometimes too fast, like the transition from Umbra to Year Zero).

V needs to… warm up a little? He never interacts with the ghouls, and when he doesn’t sing he’s never on stage. He doesn’t talk much, didn’t do controversial jokes like the first two rituals or long speeches, but he managed to put us into chaos with the uncle confession (probably Primo or Nihil, even if I still have a doubt about Secondo…). He doesn’t move like the other Papas, do not thrust, do not gesticulate in an allusive way. I identify him as a sociopath.

Generally, the big part of the church refers were removed. No thurible (no Con Clavi), Papal robe worn only once, Cassock worn only once. Also the church background didn’t stay for the whole concert. To me, it is a big loss.

Ghouls wearing the veil: Cirrus, the new ghoulette, Rain, Swiss.

Songs:

Peacefield: the first verse is performed behind the curtain. The curtains are black, all draped and with wide cuts where the light and fog passes through (as soon as I can I’ll post a drawing of how it looks like). After the first verse, the curtain drops and the band is fully visible. Behind them, the background is the same as the curtains. For this song V wears the leather jacket. The song is very rhytmic and it reminded me the style of The Police, I don’t know why.

Lachryma: V’s voice is very roughy and powerful. The live version is very cool. Leather jacket is still on. 

Spirit: I sang this one so strong that I didn’t hear V. At some point he passed through two ghouls (Dew and… Phantom? Don’t remember exactly but should be them) playing very close. I think it was accidental but nice.

Faith: it sadly replaced From the Pinnacle to the Pit, as Pinnacle was one of the songs I was really looking forward the most. Faith live is one of the songs I prefer the most. Very powerful. I think Pinnacle and Faith will be switched often during the tour. He didn’t sing the low “I am all eyes, I am all ears…” (At this point I have only one note on the notebook: motherfucker. I honestly can’t recall what was that about).

//Phantom show: I love him. I think he was the best addition to Ghost. Funny, hyped, a little crazy… he kept the whole arena entertained by making us scream the way he wanted while V was changing clothes for the next song. @cityofmeliora

//At this point, the background is still the black curtain.//

Majesty: Papa is not floating as I read. He is on an elevated platform covered by his robe (kinda like the end of Satanized videoclip) and he’s so low and located behind the drums’ platform (that gets lower before the song starts), that I didn’t see him clearly. He was covered by the drums. He doesn’t move, only the hands. On the side screens (the only way I had to see him) he’s projected with a kind of kaleidoscope effect. At the end, when the kaleidoscope effect stops, I was able to see that he was apparently sitting on a throne - but I’m still not completely sure of this.

//after Majesty, the stage became dark and quiet for a bit. After that few minutes, V does his first speech: very brief, he asked if it was warm enough for us. “It’s fucking steaming”, he said. Then he briefly said that nothing lasts forever and that we have to accept shit when it happens (more or less) and go on.//

Future is a foreing land: I don’t recall anything in particular happening.

Devil church: I don’t think they played all of it…? I need to listen to it on record again. Who was there can confirm or debunk.

Cirice: the stage becomes red for her. No wings, but he wore the black jacket with sparkly lines and stood with crossed arms at the beginning, on the drums platform, as Copia used to do. Only at this point the virtual curtain on the background drops too, revealing the stained glass background. It is the devil one with Adam and Eve (I believe) on the sides, the same of the past tours. I may remember incorrectly but I didn’t hear the “Cirrus thing” with the keyboard before the moment of silence and the “can’t you see that you’re lost… can’t you see that you’re lost WITHOUT ME”. He actually ciriced someone in the audience and blew them a little kiss. During the ciricing, the side screens focus on his eyes.

Darkness at the heart of my love: the only song from Impera. I’m glad they chose one that’s wasn’t played in the last tour, even though I still consider the absence of Twenties a federal crime.

Satanized: ok.

Ritual: there was a kind of solo battle here if I remember correctly. Dew played with the guitar at the end, but nothing long like it used to be done in past tours.

Umbra: before the song, a rectangular hole opened on the stage and I had Vietnam flashbacks. From the hole came out fog, and at some point V himself came out from the hole and the fog… yes. And he did that holding a cowbell in his raised hand, in a kind of Freddie Mercury pose. Once on stage, he handed the cowbell to Swiss to play. And that’s the only interaction between the two for the whole concert. Umbra reminds me of some classic cartoon theme songs, in some points. I won’t elaborate further.

Year Zero: those who were there please help me because I didn’t note this… but he didn’t wear the cassock here, right? He still wore the black jacket with sparkly lines, because I remember thinking it was strange to see Year Zero not in a liturgical attire, but my mind may be playing tricks on me… btw here the stained glass in the background shattered at the end of the song, revealing a starry sky. The starry sky then became an orange sky, not sure if at dawn or sunset. It was very calming.

//at this point he was wearing the famous “he had a tail” cassock, but my mind is really confused now about the right song he was wearing it for. Btw, yes, the tail is a skeleton long tail//

He is: … and it was calming because that peaceful sky was introducing He is, and it was at this point that, during the intro, I screamed as strong as I could “VAI (come on) TERZOOOOOOOO. HE IS ALIIIVEEEEEEEEEEE”. I don’t know if it reached the right ears, but my people appreciated it. @namelessdumbass this was the only mention of Terzo during the concert… and it was mine. At some point in the song the stained glass started to recompose piece by piece, and it represented some random business men and women (on the left, there was one window with a little girl with a blonde bob and white eyes, repeated on the whole window) in the center there was Jesus himself… wearing a red tie. It had something to do about the demonization of careers…? Maybe who earns money with religion? At the end of the song, the figure with Jesus was animated, and he detached from the rest of the scene taking off like a rocket… with flames and all. I don’t know how to better explain this if not by saying that Jesus literally turned into a rocket. But let’s move on… also because this is the last time we’ll see the church background.

Rats: it’s always very good live. Don’t recall anything in particular. V didn’t do comments about rats as I remember.

Kiss the go-goat: at this point the background was animated in a way very very similar to the Seven Nation Army (White Stripes) videoclip, but with darker tones.

//V speaks again. He asked us if that was all we ever wanted, and that we can have whatever we want, he can give us all we want…//

Mummy dust: I missed everything of this performance, I only know V didn’t thrust. The chaos, the mummy dusts flying (I got one btw, but not in that moment, and it’s super ugly) the confetti, the hands in the air… I couldn’t see anything at some point. I’m sorry @namelessdumbass but I lost the solo, but @driftisanidiot confirmed that the solo was performed as usual, with the keytar in the center of the stage. I only saw clearly the background, with this monster animated in a retro collage style, with the head of a rich man and many long arms, grabbing flying money. The background of the animation was industrial and red.

//V speaks again: he recalled the first show of the band in Camden, saying that we always treated Ghost well, and I know I said he was talking about Secondo but I trust who is saying that he was referring to Nihil or Primo… one of the two is V’s uncle. He said it.//

Monstrance clock: well… I was lost in a goth club at this point. The best slow dance of my life. I never imagined to hear this live, but not wearing a liturgical dress (eh, maybe I remember thinking that of THIS song) for this feels like a crime. The background was formed by explicit orgy images on red tones. The crowd went crazy whenever a gay (homo or lesbian) image appeared (the homo ones were particularly hot).

Encores:

//V introduced the encore in the usual way. He said that some people were already leaving and mocked them. He wasn’t very chatty like Copia.//

Mary on a Cross, Dance Macabre and Square Hammer were no different from the past tours, they came one after the other very quickly. During Mary, the background was a Roman statue of a woman with one breast uncovered, that towards the end started crying blood. During Dance macabre it was animated in a way that she moved her hips and color circles moved here and there, a little too pop for me. Also a Ghost sign was pulled down, on the background screen, and it got lit during the song. Colorful confetti. On Square Hammer the arena was literally exploding, and the background screen projected the happy audience cheering for the end of the song.

After show

If you are too far from the stage and do not get any Mummy Dust, I got mine by just going to the barricades at the end of the concert. There is always some people of the crew handing the remaining dollars to who asks them, that’s how I got mine.

So that’s it. I’m extremely tired and need to sleep. It happens rarely that also the people on the seated rows are all up dancing like crazy, but it happened tonight.

[81folklore]

heaven - PIASTRI - part 4

pairings: oscar piastri x private!fem!reader (fc: gracie abrams)

summary: oscars winter break as seen through social media

type: social media au (smau)

authors note: THEYRE BACK BABYYY!! ive missed these two so much so here 🤲 i spent a while trying to decide what i wanted to happen with these two (already have some plans) but i needed to post and my current wip is so frustrating 😕

authors note 2: its official theyre my favorites, i had sooooo much fun writing this, just two babies in love!!!! requests are always open and feel free to come chat!! (also i wrote this at 6am so sorry if there are any typos🫶)

heaven masterlist masterlist

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 9,289 others

always dressing up 🖤

📸 oscarpiastri

view comments

yourfriend3 actually insane

yourfriend7 you are so lovely

oscarpiastri how are you even real

yourusername babyyyy☹️

oscarpiastri 😍😍

yourusername 🤩🤩

user5 ur outfits are always unreal

landonorris is thought u were staying in tonight??

yourusername we are..i dressed up for fun😁

user7 THE WOMAN THAT YOU ARE

user18 SKWKZIWJJS

user93 my jaw DROPPED

yourfriend2 my favorite outfit of yours!!

user54 biggest question is if we’ll get winter break content😕

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, yourfriend1 and 13,279 others

my favorite time of year💫

view comments

oscarpiastri weenie waits for no one

yourusername heyy he likes sleeping in the warm☹️☹️

oscarpiastri still steals my seat😕

user54 oh my god

user3 DID OSCAR TAKE THOSE?!

yourusername yesss🫠

yourfriend6 see you soon!!

user68 the outfits NEVER disappoint

user2 im so ok

user26 THE FOURTH PHOTO??

user63 THE LAST PHOTO??

user5 you are so so pretty

yourusername thank uuuu🫶

oscarpiastri

liked by aussiegrit, yourusername and 436,742 others

life without racecars☀️

view comments

user54 OH MY GOD

user77 i may never recover

yourusername weenie and back photos oh i won *liked by creator*

landonorris ?!?!!?!

user2 LMAOOOO

user4 i feel ill i cant cope

user32 i need someone to love me the way they love each other

yourusername ☀️☀️

user9 the third photo..the THIRD PHOTO

user44 don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry

twitter

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 14,281 others

oscar oscar oscar

i hold so much love for you i often feel like its about to spill out of me, unable to be contained, and when im with you i let it. i let it fill the room and cover you until you really feel how much i love you

every day i wake up thinking about how lucky i am that i get to love you, that i get to live with you. its a blessing and im the luckiest girl in the world

ill never be able to fully explain just what you mean to me, just how much youve impacted and improved my life. everyday i find myself thinking of you and finding bits of you in places i least expect and then i get filled with this happiness that i only experience with you

you are the light of my life oscar piastri and i will love you in every universe, i promise

tagged oscarpiastri

comments on this post have been limited

oscarpiastri i love you more than words can describe, you have made me the happiest man alive

oscarpiastri i am in awe of you every single day and i cannot believe i get to spend them with you

yourusername 🩷🩷

op81priv

liked by yourusername, ln4priv and 37 others

the love i feel for you is infinite and is strong enough to keep me alive forever

you keep my heart filled with a love that ive never felt before and i will only ever feel for you

you’re my forever person, my bestfriend and i will love you until i cant love any more

comments on this post have been limited

yourusername oh oscar i love you so much

yourusername forever sounds perfect to me

twitter

yourusername added to their story

[seresinhangmanjake]

Simon "Ghost" Riley is afraid to propose to his girlfriend (reader)

notes/warnings: fluff, angsty-ish, cursing, typos i'm sure (i wrote it in like an hr and then lost all energy to closely proofread. sorry)

words: 1367

Simon Riley Masterlist

Forty-Two months. You’ve been together for forty-two months, and Simon Riley is no fool. He knows what he has. Through every imaginable horror, you’ve been by his side. You’ve held his hand, kissed his forehead, brushed your fingers through his hair, let him lay on top of you after a night of sex when he’d just needed to feel you and know that you’re with him. You’ve cried with him and for him. And when it’s asked of you, you’ve waited for him. 

You’re absolutely everything. Of perfect quality despite your flaws. A reminder that things in this world are soft, beautiful, gentle. When he loses faith in the concepts of decency and humanity because of the things he’s seen, you refuel what has been depleted. You make things make sense in a cruel existence. And yet, he hasn’t asked you to marry him. 

Ok, maybe he is a bit of a fool.

For forty-two months you’ve watched your friends get married, cousins and second cousins, and even your mother and your aunt—all of whom began relationships with their new spouses long after you and Simon declared yourselves officially together. You’ve taken Simon to so many weddings in the past three and a half years that you’d both agreed you’d had your fill. But Simon is under no illusions that if it were for you and him, you’d manage to find the energy for one more wedding. 

You don’t pressure him or drop painfully obvious hints, and if he’s honest, that almost makes it worse. Price and Gaz and even Johnny have faced threats of their own in the past by the women they’ve been with, with varying results. Price was happy to agree. Gaz a little less, but his lady was pregnant and it was the right thing to do. But Johnny…Johnny wouldn’t marry his current broad if it meant a quick death. You, though, are a gift. Better than all of them in Simon’s eyes. You deserve to have the man who loves you acknowledge that love by asking you to be his wife. Simon just can’t bring himself to ensure that that man is him.

He attributes that roadblock to your relationship not being equal. He doesn’t provide you with everything you provide him. While he does his best to be supportive and loving and comforting, you’ve mastered those skills and he can’t compete. And how is it fair to ask you to pull that weight for the rest of your lives?

It doesn’t stop him from wanting to ask, but when the question is on his tongue, he can’t get it out. However, because you’re stronger than him, more open and sure of what you want, it turns out he doesn’t have to.

—

“Simon, will you marry me?”

You’re not looking at him. You’ve been spooning on the couch for the last three hours watching mindless TV, and he’s refused to let you up from your spot. At the question, his hand under your shirt that has been lazily fondling your breast freezes. He’s half hard and was about thirty seconds from trailing that hand down your body and into your sleep shorts, but now he can’t. 

Simon swallows. “W-What?” he asks, though he absolutely heard you. Does anyone mistake those words for anything other than what they are? 

His pounding heart clogs his ears, but to his surprise, his cock gets a little harder. 

After too many beats of silence, you guide his hand out of your shirt, and with a sigh, you stand, round the couch, and go into the bedroom. In your absence, he sits up, running a hand through his hair and blowing out a breath. 

What just happened? He thinks. And what the fuck did he just do? He didn’t answer the way he should have and now you’re gone. He’s hurt you, and he’s so focused on his fuck up that he doesn’t notice you come back until you’re standing directly in front of him. 

A black band is trapped between your thumb and index finger. You’re not smiling. There’s no glimmer in your eye. You simply hold the ring, staring at it. 

“I just want to marry you,” you say, your voice dripping with the disappointment he knows you’re expecting. “And you haven’t asked me.” 

“Love–” he starts, but then you drop to your knees, calves folded under your thighs. 

His heart cracks right down the middle, jagged and splintered. A few pieces fall into his gut. You still won’t look at him, so he reaches out a hand, cups your cheek, and turns your face up to his. 

“You don’ kneel to me, Love,” he tells you, his thumb stroking your cheekbone.

Half-heartedly chuckling, you say, “Sometimes I do.”

Simon lets his lips curl into a slight smile because his girl is still in there. Despite the forlorn look on your face, he didn’t completely break your spirit with one unanswered question. And thank fuck for that.  

He doesn’t mean to, but he forces you to sit in limbo as he thinks. The woman he loves is on her knees asking for something that she so evidently believes she isn’t going to get. And yet, it’s from that risk—that display of your love for him and the leap you’re willing to take to prove it—that Simon snaps out of every negative thought that has held him back. 

Hand dropping from your face, he rises from the couch and, just as you had, makes his way into the bedroom. He has no idea where you’d hidden his, but yours has been in a dresser drawer for nearly a year, tucked behind the socks that are never worn because he has too many pairs. 

When he returns, he stops dead in his tracks because you’re still sitting there but your head is down again and a teardrop falls onto your bare thigh as you fiddle with the ring, and that is unacceptable; his behavior is unacceptable. And now he’s more sure than ever. 

Simon discards the box and goes to sit back on the couch. Your embarrassment is palpable, and he hates himself for yanking that out of you. Shame is the last thing he has ever wanted you to feel in his presence. 

Ring between his fingers, Simon lowers his hand until he’s sure the diamond is within your line of sight. 

Your gasp is faint but he catches it—a master at catching every little sound you make and savoring his ability to have you make them. Your head shoots up, eyes wide as they connect with his. 

With his free hand, Simon brushes away the tears that have yet to fall from your cheeks. 

“Switch,” he says. 

“What?”

He takes your hand, pulling you with him as he rises to his feet, and turns your bodies. “Sit,” he says, and you do. Then he eases onto one knee, ignoring the crack of his bones, and holds out the ring. “I’m so sorry it came to this, Love. I didn’—” he shakes his head, “’s my fault.”

Your head cocks to the side. “Your fault?”

“My fault,” he nods, his brow pinching as he decides how to say what he needs to. “You’re my wife,” he says. “I know you’re my wife—I’ve known it—but I get in my head and I start going through the list of things that I don’ think I deserve, and you’re the Queen of that list, Love. You make everything else on that list seem so unimportant that they have no right bein’ there.”

“Simon…”

“But I’ll make you a deal,” he continues. “I’ll marry you, if you marry me.”

You snicker and, excluding the tears he’d caused, your face does exactly what he’d hoped it would do wherever he imagined proposing. The only detail unaccounted for is your answer, which he supposes is fair. He hadn’t directly given you one either. 

But then you say one the best damn things he’s ever heard leave your mouth. 

Your pretty lips part and you tell him: “Yes.”

A/N: I don’t think love has to be affirmed in the form of a proposal and wedding, but for the sake of the fic…

[kmazine]

[ 05:15 PM ]

"That's pretty. Someone gave you flowers?" Seungcheol asks as you settle in the passenger seat. You shook your head.

"No. I bought it. We went to the flower shop nearby to buy flowers for our new manager then I saw this flower and it's too pretty so I bought it" You smiled at him before you avert your gaze back to the bouquet of flower in your hand, all giddy and excited.

You smiled, the light hue of pink and blue of the baby breath together looks so pretty and cute so you decided to buy one.

"You know you can just tell me and I will buy it for you, right?" Seungcheol said, crossing his arms against his chest as he pouts. He knows you love flowers and he hope he's the one that bought that flowers for you instead so he can be the reason of that giddy smile of yours.

"I know and you always bought me flowers even when I don't tell you to" You reminded him. He squinted his eyes at you with faux annoyance.

You giggles and pinched his cheek before hands him the bouquet.

"This is for you"

He tilts his head and blinks at you for a few times and slowly taking the bouquet from your hands.

"Me?" His brow furrows and his eyes wander between your face and the flowers in his hands.

"Yeah" You giggle, didn't expect him to be that surprised.

You're about to wear your seatbelt before immediately it slip off your grips, startled at his out of nowhere question.

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"Wait, what?"

It was silent for a few seconds before you crack up and burst into laughter ㅡ both amused and in disbelief.

Seungcheol on the other hand, wasn't that amused, that you're wheezing at his question and at this confusing situation overall.

You took a deep breath and wipe the tears forming at the edge of your eyes. Your stomach hurts and you took a deep breath while caressing your chest, trying to calm yourself down.

"I'm sorry. I can't believe you ask me that just because I bought you flowers" You chuckle before you lean closer towards him and give his cheek a peck.

"It's because I love you, honey. Your favourite flower remind me of you." His cheeks flushed red as he grins at your explanation and you want to tease him so bad but you decided not to, and just let your man enjoy appreciating the flowers in his hand.

"I seriously need to pamper my man more." You chuckle as you buckled your seatbelt. Your heart swell with so much love with the way he look at the flowers and you with his lovely gaze and infectious smile, as his dimple making appearance.

Seungcheol suddenly unbuckled his seatbelt and leans towards you before he cups your face with his hands and gently pulls you into a long and sweet kiss.

"Thank you, love." He whispers. Now it's your cheeks that feels hot and flushed pink, making him smiles against your lips.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Cheol" You snicker at him when he said he trust you more to protect his flower than the back seat. So you end up holding the bouquet the whole drive home while your other hand folded with his.

And now you made it your life mission to pamper him with more flowers.

----------------------------------------

[ my other works / masterlist ]

-------------------------------------------

a/n : Idk I just typed this and post.

I swear I have other members and other groups and 3478 more seungcheol post in my drafts but everything remind me of Seungcheol so I just wrote new one and post lol. I didn't proofread or check so I'll edit any grammatical error and typo later. I hope you guys enjoy reading this.

[suniix]

08 | miyamura x reader

synopsis | something you’ve been suspicious of is confirmed, you’re unsure what your next steps should be

word count | 2k

note | wrote this instead of working on my midterms lolol, but we’re almost done guys!! next chap is the final chap! sorry for any typos it’s super late and i wrote this instead of sleeping :’)

previous | mlist | next

Yanagi is a lot different than you would’ve imagined.

You decided you’d listen to Miyamura and attempt to ‘reconnect’ with him. For the past couple of days you’ve been hanging out with him on the weekends, even walking home with him after school to try and learn as much about him as possible. You try not to think about Miyamura’s dejected face when you told him about it.

Once during the weekend when you and Yanagi agreed to hang out you showed up early and woke him up. Safe to say, he is not a morning person. Apart from now understanding why he’s always late in the morning, you’ve come to understand that Yanagi is a little bit different than the boy you remembered.

While at first glance he acted almost exactly the same, once you got to know him there were little things that gave you a feeling. You can’t describe it more than that, it just felt like something, but you weren’t sure what.

You understand that people change overtime and it’s very likely your friend changed, but something about Yanagi just didn’t click in your brain. Everytime you thought about it you shrugged it off, thinking maybe it was difficult for you to accept he’d be different from what you remembered.

“Oh look, a park.” Yanagi pointed and you shifted your attention.

He began walking to a pair of swings and you followed, taking a seat next to him while gently kicking your legs out.

You decided that during this hangout you were going to ask him.

“Can’t believe it’s almost spring.” He traced patterns in the sand with his foot.

He was right, despite it almost being night the air was still warm enough for you to be without a jacket.

“Just a couple of more months until summer break.” You smiled, already planning what you were going to do with your friends.

This seems like a good time to bring it up..

“Hey, this might sound weird, but..” You paused, wondering how to go about asking without doing it directly.

Yanagi noticed your hesitancy and nodded for you to continue with a gentle smile. Oddly enough it comforted you.

“Have you ever made.. a pinky promise?” You fiddled with the end of your shirt.

“Pinky promise?” Yanagi repeated. “I’m pretty sure I have when I was younger..”

Your heart leapt at his answer. Don’t get excited, everyone makes them, that was a really general question, I need to ask something more specific..

“…Was it serious?”

“Um—“ Yanagi paused, seriously thinking about your question. “I guess at the time it was? But the promises I made were about silly things, so not totally serious.”

“Oh.”

The silence that followed was painfully awkward, not even the crickets dared to chirp their late night tunes. Part of you regretted asking, but there was no turning back now.

“… Did you ever make a serious pinky promise? Like, one you’d hope the other person kept despite going years and years without seeing them?”

Yanagi shot you a confused glance. “That’s oddly specific?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just!—” Your ears burned in embarrassment. “You just remind me of someone I made a promise with..” you whispered.

“Ah, so that’s what this is about.”

You felt your heart drop, this was it.

“You feel bad about a promise you made with someone and it’s been years since you’ve seen them so you have no way of proving you’ve been trying to keep your promise, right?”

You couldn’t help but let your jaw drop at his response. That wasn’t what you were expecting. While that wasn't the entire reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to explain due to the growing embarrassment you were feeling.

Yanagi took your silence as confirmation and patted your back softly. “It’s nice to know that you hold promises like that so close to your heart, I’m sure your friend would be glad to know you still think about them.”

He was so close to the truth, but he missed one crucial part.

There was no way for you to predict that Yanagi would’ve misunderstood your words, or maybe he was well aware of what you were trying to imply and was trying to help redirect you without causing you further embarrassment, either way, he made it clear he was not who you were looking for.

“In my opinion, you have no reason to worry. The fact that you still remember the promise and you’re still worrying about it proves you’re a good friend. I’m sure your friend would agree too.” Yanagi continued to rample while you tried to reel your mind back in.

You sighed, deciding to go along with his story. “Thing is, I don’t even know where they are.”

“You’ll find them eventually, when the time is right. The universe is weird like that, it brings you back to things when you’re ready for it.”

As inspiring as Yanagi’s words were, they left you feeling a bit helpless. When you guys went your separate ways you accepted the fact that maybe he was right and you wouldn’t find your friend for a long time.

Not until the universe deemed you ready.

“Can’t believe it’s that time of the year already.” Ishikawa sighed.

Normally you would overlook his complaining, but this time you found yourself agreeing with him. Love was in the air at Katagiri High and while most were bitter about spending it alone, you were mostly upset about the obscene prices your favorite treats would rise to because of the holiday. Most shops and restaurants would likely be packed with couples too, which meant no after school shopping for little trinkets you didn’t need. You’d have to head straight home once school was over.

“Just get a girlfriend already so you can stop complaining.” Yoshikawa snapped, pushing him away when he began to eye her lunch.

“You say that but I heard you complain to Hori about this right before we started eating.” He retorted.

As the two bickered, Miyamura nudged your shoulder. “Wanna come by the bakery after school? I have some new recipes I want someone to try before we start promoting them.”

You quickly nodded, it was as if he had read your mind. You hadn’t realized it until now, but you were so obsessed with figuring out if Yanagi was your old friend that you began to neglect Miyamura. More time with Yanagi meant less with Miyamura; the thought made your heart ache. Guess you wouldn’t be heading straight home after, you had a lot of catching up to do.

“What about you (Y/n)?”

Ishikawa called, breaking you out of your small trance.

“Do you have a special someone?” He elaborated, batting his eyes and puckering his lips in an exaggerated way while leaning close to you.

You roll your eyes and push him away. “Maybe.”

That comment alone was enough to peak the whole group’s interest. “Woah, seriously?” Ishikawa gaped.

Despite knowing them for almost a full school year you still kept most things to yourself, so to hear you even mention being interested in someone was enough to keep them entertained the whole lunch period.

“It’s not as interesting as you think it is.” You chuckled as Hori pushed Ishikawa’s jaw up to close his mouth. “When I was little I met this guy and he was the first friend I ever really made. I barely even remember him, but.. I wanna meet him again.”

You fiddled with the untucked ends of your shirt, missing the way Miyamura’s eyes widened at your confession. The silence was broken when Ishikawa slammed his fist down on the table, catching everyone’s attention.

“Oh man that's actually sort of tragic..” He mumbled into his hand.

“I think it’s pretty romantic, just like in the novels! Though I guess yours might not have a happy ending.. but that doesn’t mean you won’t!!” Yoshikawa began awkwardly rambling near the end of her sentence when she noticed how depressing she made it sound.

“I mean, it’s not that bad.” You tried to laugh it off, but the truth is it bothered you. A lot. “I’ll find him someday. When I do, I hope he remembers me.”

A year ago you would’ve been mortified to find out that you’ve been getting too personal with your classmates. Maybe you shouldn't have told them about this, maybe you weren’t ready to reveal the one secret that you’ve been keeping in, but it’s too late to take back what you said now.

You’ve changed, you’ve grown, and that’s okay.

You could hardly contain your excitement.

After days of not spending time with Miyamura you were finally going to hang out together again.

As you finished packing you looked over at his seat and noticed he left his bag. Miyamura was helping Hori deliver something to the student council room and told you he’d be right back so you could walk together.

You figured it’d probably be easier if you went to the student council room so he wouldn’t have to walk all the way back just to pick you up, so you grabbed his bag and began heading over to the student council room. As you approached the door you noticed Hori and Miyamura seemingly bickering in the front. Hori was quick to notice you and gave you an irritated smile.

“One sec!”

With that she dragged him into the room and slammed the door shut. The sound was loud enough that it echoed down the empty halls. Through the door you could hear muffled sounds of an argument between the two along with shuffling.

You felt your heart drop. Oh no, did spending all that time with Yanagi cause you and Miyamura to drift away that much? Were him and Hori a thing now? Were you interrupting something between them?—

You didn’t have much time to think before the door flew open, causing you to jump. “Ok! All good now! See you later (Y/n)!” She said while maintaining that eerie smile. She began to walk away and you shivered at the scary aura that surrounded her.

You couldn’t help but notice how she only acknowledged you. Was she mad at you?

“Uhm, so what was that about?” You turned to Miyamura, who looked absolutely haggard.

His shirt was wrinkled from the top and his hair was messy; anyone who saw him and Hori come out of that room would’ve assumed something other than an argument occurred. “Don’t worry about it, she’s probably just fed up with me.” He answered, though that didn’t help calm your nerves.

“Why would she be fed up with you?” You questioned.

He gently took his bag from your shoulder and began leading you out of the school. “She’s just mad because I won’t accept her advice.”

Advice? “Advice for what?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but immediately closed it.

“.. Don’t worry about it.”

Despite his words, you worried. You worried a lot because Miyamura was your friend and you cared for him a lot. Maybe a lot more than a friend should.

Don’t! You’ve been over this already! You can’t!—

The thought escaped your mind. Why can’t you see him as more than a friend? Does having feelings for Miyamura make you feel guilty that you’re moving on from that old friend of yours?

Yes, you answered. Yes, feeling that way towards Miyamura makes you feel guilty. It makes you feel scared that you’ll move on and forget about that little boy entirely, but part of you thinks you can’t ever forget him. Despite your spotty memory, he’s the only memory that’s remained constant.

You don’t have to look out for him like you did when you were little. He’s in high school now, likely with his own group of friends, leading his own life.

It’s then that you realized you don’t have to stay stuck in the past, you’re allowed to move forward while still keeping what happened close to your heart. That doesn’t mean you’ll forget.

You don’t think you’ll ever be able to forget him, no matter how hard you try.

thank you for reading till the end! reblogs are greatly appreciated :D

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[poorlittlegreenie13]

Scenes From an Italian Restaurant:

WC: 2,000

Syd/Carmy falling in love to the soundtrack of Billy Joel, idk

It's past midnight, but Carmy & Syd still haven't finished closing. It might have something to do with the fact that neither of them can sleep without nightmares at home, and that there's something uniquely comforting about having another person with an equally fucked up sleep schedule to silently work with well into the early hours of the morning. They rarely talk while they're working like this; a blurry, unfocused period somewhere between opening and closing, things that do not strictly need to be done, but that they both take pride in doing anyway. It's their fucking restaurant, they both seem to enjoy treating it like a child they're co-helicopter-parenting.

This particular night, Carmy is in the kitchen doing food prep & Syd is sweeping up the dining area. It's quiet enough to hear herself breathe in, and the silence is getting annoying, so she finds herself sweeping toward the kitchen, peeking through to look at Carmy. As she gets closer to him, she hears him... muttering to himself, maybe? No, that's not it. She walks closer, slipping into the kitchen as quietly as she can, and realizes he's... singing. Carmy Berzatto. Singing. In the kitchen.

Her first impulse is to laugh but she stops herself.

He's kind of... good.

She listens for a little while, mesmerized, trying to make out the lyrics.

A bottle of red, a bottle of white. It all depends on your appetite. I’ll meet you anytime you want, in our Italian restaurant.

She moves slightly and Carmy freezes like a scared deer in the fucking forest, of course. His eyes are so wide and scared, Syd almost feels bad, so she tries to break the tension.

“Didn’t realize you moonlighted as a singer,” she says with an awkward smirk, leaning on her broom. “Did you write that?”

Carmy’s eyes narrow. “Did I— did you just ask me if I wrote that?”

Syd shrugs slightly, sensing she’s made an error.

“It’s Billy Joel,” Carmy says, looking genuinely concerned that she’s lacking this crucial piece of information.

“Okay, sorry, I’m not, like, Italian… and into 70’s music,” Syd says, with a dry, sarcastic smile.

“No, no, but this is a classic song,” Carmy says, “I mean, this is just a good song.”

Sydney just stares at him blankly. “I wouldn’t know,” she says.

“Alright, something’s gotta be done about this,” Carmy says with a disapproving shake of his head, tone as serious as it might be if he was noticing a typo on a menu or a smudge on a plate. He unplugs his headphones from his phone, walking to the restaurant’s sound system and connecting his phone.

A jazzy piano song overtakes the speakers, Carmy pausing to crank up the volume to far above their normal level before turning back to Syd with a smile on his face.

“Cold beer, hot lights, my sweet romantic teenage nights,” the voice of Billy Joel (apparently) sings out over the speakers of their restaurant. Carmy looks at her expectantly. Syd raises an eyebrow.

“It’s… loud,” she says.

“No, no, no,” Carmy says, rolling his eyes, infuriatingly smooth Italian-American vowels softening out as he speaks, an unquantifiable accent that Sydney is pretty sure is going to actually kill her one day. “It tells a story,” Carmy insists, turning back to his prep, chopping vegetables to the beat of the song, talk-singing along with the song, back turned to Sydney. “Brenda and Eddie were still going steady in the summer of ‘75, when they decided the marriage would be at the end of July.”

Sydney can’t help the laugh she lets out. Carmy spins around, an indignant smile on his face.

“Stop looking at me like I’m crazy,” he says, “you’re the one who doesn’t know Billy Joel.”

“I do know some Billy Joel,” Syd says. “Just not this Billy Joel.”

“Well I'm showing you this Billy Joel,” Carmy says. “Listen. Come on, you’re not listening to it. This is good music.”

He sets down his knife, walking over to her, holding out a hand.

Something in the pit of Sydney’s stomach fires off like an over-excited fire-cracker.

“Are you seriously trying to dance with me right now,” she asks flatly, glancing between his face and his extended hand, trying her very best to hold her sarcasm out in front of her like a shield against whatever fuckary this is.

Carmy’s smile fades, just for an instant. Sydney can’t stand it. She rolls her eyes, and takes his hand. Immediately, he grins, spinning her around him. She can’t help but smile. Carmy reaches out for her other hand, pulling her in on one side and pushing her away on the other, awkward high-school-dance moves that a grown man should probably not be pulling on her right now, and should certainly not be working as well as they are.

She meets his eyes, wide grin, slight flush, hair even more disheveled than usual. For a second, she just stares at him, forgetting to dance, forgetting to smile. Carmy, oblivious, is still singing.

“They parted the closest of friends, then the king and the queen went back to the green, but you can never go back there again, no no.”

Fuck.

She shakes her head ruefully, spinning him around to break their eye contact. And okay, maybe she spun him away from her slightly too hard because his hand slips out of hers and he stumbles a few steps away from her, laughing, and then, in a flash of movement, moving back to her, one hand coming to her lower back, the other settling around her shoulders pulling her into his chest, still laughing, still red in the face, breathing slightly heavier than usual, vocalizing Billy fucking Joel right into her ear.

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck?

Is she slow dancing with Carmen fucking Berzatto in their kitchen right now?

He’s ridiculously warm in a white tee shirt and jeans, solid and impossibly, weirdly soft, leaning heavily against her, breathing against her neck, smelling like kitchen spices and sweat. This is simply not fair. This is… seriously outside anything normal or manageable. Carmy’s hand on her lower back is keeping her in place against him, stomach to stomach, fingertips splayed out across her back.

She’s stopped moving, she realizes. Carmy stops too after a moment, but he’s still pressed against her, still smiling slightly. Syd lets out a short, nervous laugh.

“Is this weird?” Carmy asks, voice low, unsure, still holding her close—maybe so he doesn’t have to look her in the eye, maybe so he can just rest his chin against her shoulder for a little longer.

Very slowly, Sydney brings a hand to the space between Carmy’s shoulder blades, just resting it there. “Kind of, yeah,” she says. “But not bad weird.”

“Fuck, sometimes… it’s like I forget to be nervous in front of you,” Carmy says—quick, breathless words, slowly pulling back from her, an embarrassed little smile on his face. “And I make a fuckin’ fool of myself before I realize I’m doing it.”

Sydney smirks back at him. “Well it’s kind of too late to fool me into thinking you’re cool,” she says. “Might as well stop being nervous about it. I mean, that ship has sailed.”

Carmy laughs, shaking his head, going a bit redder in the face. “I just really want you to like Billy Joel,” he says.

Syd smiles. “No, I do,” she says. “I totally do like him. I really like him.”

“He has other good songs,” Carmy says. “I always liked this one though. I was like fourteen, thinkin’ I was gonna meet a girl and take her to an Italian restaurant and get… fucking married at twenty. Talk about a ship that’s sailed.”

He goes quiet.

Over the speaker, Billy Joel is still singing.

“A bottle of red, oh a bottle of white, whatever kind of mood you’re in tonight. I’ll meet you anytime you want, in our Italian restaurant.”

“It kind of did work out though,” Sydney says, over the last few chords of the song, “I mean, you do in fact own an Italian restaurant.”

“Yeah,” Carmy says, a boyish smile crossing his face. His expression lingers on her for a long moment.

The song ends, and abruptly, loud guitar chords blare through the kitchen.

“Oh my God,” Carmy says, grinning, the tension of the moment entirely shattered. “Fuckin’ love this one.”

He crosses back to his prep station, picking his knife and returning to his work like nothing happened, bobbing his head and singing, “You had to be a big shot, didn’t you?”

Syd watches him for a little while longer before going back to her sweeping, making a mental note to never think of this night ever again. She’s not sure she could withstand the sheer force of her own stupid fucking yearning. Minutes pass. Half an hour. Carmy cycles through ten odd Billy Joel songs, and then—

“Hey, Syd!” Carmy calls from the kitchen.

Sydney turns, white-knuckling her broom handle, collecting herself for a moment before walking toward the sound of his voice.

When she reaches him, he gives her a crooked, slightly unsure smile.

“If it’s not bad weird," he says, "can we keep doing it?”

Her face burns. She stares at him for a long moment, trying to gauge whether he’s joking or not.

“I mean, can you come here again?” Carmy says, quieter, sounding slightly desperate, while she’s still trying to gauge his sincerity.

Wordlessly she steps toward him, heart pounding. He wraps his arms around her waist, exhaling heavily, chin returning to its place on her shoulder, An Innocent Man playing through the empty restaurant.

“Some people live with the fear of the touch, and the anger of having been a fool.”

Sydney’s not entirely sure how the night ends. It sort of blurs together; Carmy holding her against him, clasped hands, kitchen knives, food prep, sweeping, laughing, blushing, Billy Joel and Carmy’s singing voice. Eventually, Sydney in the doorway, bag slung over one shoulder, Carmy flushed and breathless from laughter, Sydney mentally filing away exactly how it sounds when Carmy says her name, out of breath and slightly desperate.

“I feel like I should apologize to you,” he says, but he's still smiling.

"Yeah you should apologize for not finishing your prep," she says, clinging to the remaining shreds of her self-respect as she stares at him. "Get that done. I need some fucking sleep."

"Yes, chef," Carmy promises softly, with a rueful look on his face. She turns to leave, but he speaks again. "Hey. "Thanks, Syd."

She turns back.

"For what?"

He shrugs, looking down at his feet.

"I just had a nice night."

"Yeah, me too, Bear," Sydney says, and then forces herself to walk away from him, out the door and into the Chicago cold.

Maybe the sleeplessness is making them both crazier than she realized.

Or maybe it's not just the sleeplessness.

Because she's pretty sure she's going to be thinking about exactly how Carmy's arms felt wrapped around her for the rest of her fucking life. And if that's not insanity, she doesn't know what is.

[ninefoxgambitgame]

this one's US politics

Sorry. I nuked my newsletter, Bluesky, and a couple other social media accounts because I was out of cope, so that leaves Tumblr.

I'm over a year late on CROWNWORLD. My agent and editor are aware. The book is not likely to get done soon despite my being under 10,000 words / 3 chapters from the finish line, because I'm too stressed and exhausted to soldier on.

The parts that I haven't discussed much if at all in public:

My health cratered a few years ago. I wrote most of STARSTRIKE in all lowercase while seeking ways I could write flat on my back in bed without making the pain worse. I spent a year bedridden, getting 0-4 hours of sleep per night (not a typo); I only left the house for doctor's appointments or to vote.

This included uncommon bad med reactions like the one that sent me to the ER with internal bleeding. I'm cautious about new-to-me meds for a reason.

I was making good progress writing early in 2025 but then I had a concussion. I'm mostly recovered but my balance is still not 100%.

A family member had multiple health crises that could have killed them.

South Korea's president attempted an insurrection (a common interpretation) by declaring martial law in December 2024. Almost all my family is in South Korea. I couldn't even discuss it publicly because there was a nonzero chance that it would endanger my relatives. (I've been to a literature festival in Seoul under the auspices of the Ministry of Culture, Tourism, and Sport. They know I exist, and South Korea has a history of dictatorships.)

I learned my father had a cerebral hemorrhage that same month. He's in South Korea. I'm in the USA. The unstable political situation in South Korea would have made any attempt to visit him unusually fraught.

The Trump presidency. Unfortunately, chronic health problems curtail the kinds and amounts of activism I can physically do even before we get to being burned out.

My husband works at LIGO, which won a Nobel Prize for the detection of gravitational waves predicted by Einstein's theory of general relativity. President Trump's proposed budget would (among many other things) cut funding for one of two LIGO sites, at which point why not defund both. (NSF budget news [science.org] but the link may be paywalled.) You need two gravitational wave observatories to verify a detection (triangulation). What about other observatories internationally, you ask? There are two: VIRGO (Italy) and KAGRA (Japan). LIGO can detect out to ~150 megaparsecs, VIRGO to ~80 megaparsecs (best case), KAGRA to ~10 megaparsecs (best case). But space is volumetric, so for a comparison you need to cube these numbers. LIGO's at ~3 million (let's call that 100% as a measuring stick). VIRGO's at ~500,000 (~20%). KAGRA is at ~1,000 (under 1% - worse by a couple orders of magnitude, in fact). These are estimates, but I've estimated conservatively.

This is a proposed US budget, not an approved one, but if LIGO doesn't get cut, it's because something even more essential than basic research in astronomy/physics is axed (further).

I am selfishly stressed about the possibility that my husband will lose his job. I'm on his health insurance, and did we mention my health? This has career implications for me as well if I become the primary breadwinner. If we knew for certain one way or the other, we could plan; but the uncertainty is wreaking havoc for pretty much everyone.

I've had my books challenged and pulled from libraries for "DEI" reasons (Tiger Honor seems to be the usual "problem" due to the nonbinary protagonist; I don't think Phoenix Extravagant ever sold that well). A studio optioned Dragon Pearl but was stymied first by the Hollywood strikes (solidarity to the unions!) and then opted not to negotiate for another renewal because when shopping it around, the feedback was that a Korean space opera was too "DEI" to be a good investment in this political environment. (Whatever one's feelings about this, this is absolutely true in a business/economic sense.) So this makes career planning additionally selfishly fraught. Too bad I didn't go all in on het shifter romance? I started writing one! - het shifter romance is my favorite kind - and I loved it but somebody had a book contract to attend to.

I am sad for the US wrecking ball clown show and I am sad for everyone everywhere who is affected by the US wrecking ball clown show. ("Lying low" politically is a lost cause when one is a semi-public figure.) I am, perhaps controversially, of the opinion that the despot playbook of North Korea and past South Korean dictatorships ought to be assiduously avoided, not enshrined as some asshole US administration's hashtag life goals. But I'm just a science fiction writer, not a politician, so what do I know.

Any impact to me is unimportant in the grand scheme of the world. My job is producing entertainment fiction and it's by definition nonessential. My household will lurch along; I'm not in financial distress. But I am selfishly stressed out of my mind and likely to spend June 2025 writing bad music, badly playing 16-bit videogames, badly designing/coding a visual novel and/or graphic novel only half a dozen friends will ever see. Maybe I will scribble at the het shifter romance without any intention of writing well, but rather stress relief, and continue moseying toward music composition/orchestration. Under better circumstances, this would make a nice mini-vacation; but these are not better circumstances.

Anyway, my failings as a writer and human being are well known at this point; but if the book isn't delivered in June, that's why. It's not much of an apologia. Y'all stay safe and take care of yourselves and each other out there.

Yours in calendrical heresy, YHL

[tbr-theblindrock]

More of my characters out of context:

•Aria

“Right, I’m blind… guess have to finally get my ass off these stairs.” (Rewritten version of scrapped story.)

“Hi… WAIT— WHY ARE YOU AWAKE!?” (Scrapped story)

———————————————————————————

•Samika

“You wouldn’t want your blood to be dripping down your face. —

———————————————————————————

•Grace

“… Hm… Oh, it’s science.” (Scrapped story)

———————————————————————————

-Story I made for a task at school-

•Riley (Boy)

“Oh, please, brother. You look like someone drew Voldemort by memory. Trust me, Voldemort looks way better than you.”

“We’re on a rooftop because the creators shoved us here,”

“Sorry, t’was nothing but a typo,”

“Erin, this ain’t Stranger Things. What in the world is wrong with you!?”

Sebastian shook his head then spoke, “Riley, how are you feeling?” Riley looked up at him. “I’m feeling ready to punch Erin.”

———————————————————————————

•Reesy (boy)

Reesy’s ADHD kicked in. “Anyway, did you know tiramisu cake is actually made with coffee?”

“That’s so wonderhoy!”

“Brother, are you okay? Erin did push you to a wall,” asked Riley, concerned for his twin. “Oh, yeah! I forgot. I’m fine, brother!”

“Typo? Brother, we’re not texting each other though,”

Reesy’s ADHD kicked in, part two. “Oh, and speaking of texting, did you know that the Philippines is a country that texts a lot? Like 142 billion texts a year! The number one texting nation in the world!”

“PAPAR! PARPA! Tartay! Tay-tay!”

“You baffled me with that statement that I had to take a step back because I didn’t know how to react to that!”

“WHOEVER ARGUES WITH SOMEONE IS A WHINY BABY!!”

———————————————————————————

•Erin (boy)

“Well, you should fix your diet because you’re fat enough to block my way. Ugly rat…”

“What are you doing here?” Erin’s tone showed that he was very annoyed and angry. (“Walking,” Riley responded and Erin glared at him.)

“I HATE YOU!” He choked Riley with his magic.

“… He’s dead…”

“Riley, I’m sorry for suffocating you which almost killed you. —

———————————————————————————

•Sebastian

Wow he literally has nothing

———————————————————————————

•Levi

“While we wait, do you want piaya?”

(Riley literally dying in the background while he said that)

“SAM! I’M STAYING WITH YOU TONIGHT!”

Levi inhaled then rapidly spoke, “You’re bald! So the monsters won’t get me because your head is so shiny!”

———————————————————————————

•Samuel

(Samuel yelled at nothing, “C’mon, mister stain. Get off!!!”)

“PARDON?! I AM NOT BALD!”

———————————————————————————

•Sage

Sage almost puked

———————————————————————————

•Marvin

“Guys, I need you three to make out now,”

“I-I mean make up now!”

“I DON’T KNOW IF I CAN SLEEP TONIGHT!”

———————————————————————————

•Esther

She, KC and Sebastian are the only sane ones I swear. They don’t have lines or actions I can take out of context.

———————————————————————————

•KC

Is dead

———————————————————————————

Random irrelevant facts I wrote in the docs

There is about 9, maybe more or less, VINEBOOMs in the story.

The characters are inspired from a show I watch.

KC has the least lines in the story. (I think that’s obvious.)

Marvin’s ‘machine’ is actually a robot. Sebastian was helping him make it.

Samuel’s hair is so shiny he almost looks bald so the others tease him for being bald.

The story has about 2,821 words.

That’s about it :) thx for reading and happy Chinese new year. 新年快乐!!

I wrote this story a long while ago (last year) so, it sucks. And yes, I’m listening to Beethoven.

[celestie0]

IT’S CELESTIEFAN3000 i have to say i like tumblr way more than ao3 so i’ll be using this to comment from now on 😋 But i would like to personally thank you for writing chapter 9, your author voice is genuinely so appealing and HONESTLY you could pass off as a literal professional author if I didn’t know this was fanfiction!

Now for the uglier feelings: (please ignore typos or other mistakes i wrote a lot. I am very normal about kickoff, obviously)

I SOBBED LIKE A BABY MIDWAY AND BECAME A CRYING SOUND EFFECT AT THE END OK OK OKAYYYYYYY 😭😭💫💫 I’m still dizzy and lightheaded from the effect ur writing gives me (THIS IS A GOOD THING) it’s so addicting i need more😭‼️ UGHHHH the way you build that exact RIGHT amount of comfort to compensate for the suffering you’ve but us through but still managed to EDGE US AT THE END . I WISH YOU WEREN’T SO GOOD AT THIS FANFICTION THING, BECAUSE DAMN! 😭😭😭😭

The scenes were so fucking beautiful, I love the peaceful atmosphere that rain gives and how you were able to contrast that as an escape from that horrible loud and noisy bar to just a horrible man!!!!! You really know how to direct scenes and i can not express in words how much they mean to me 🥹🥹😭😭😭

I feel like I’ve overused the crying face emoji too much in my ask BUT I ACTUALLY MEAN IT HERE EVERY TIME I can fill an entire glass up of my tears that kickoff caused me to shed alone 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Everything was just great vegetables, this chapter will definitely be haunting me while I sleep but it ended with an amazing scenario to build off of and dream about RIGHT?☺️ Anyway, my last words here are that I admire how you’ve been working on this project for around a couple months now nonstop, but the quality has not dropped and has instead improved despite it getting really tiring the more you carry on with it! Maybe that’s just how I feel about finishing what I’ve started LMAO but it’s so impressive every time I see someone able to pull that off, I’ve seen some fics succumb to the tragedy of “i-just-want-to-get-this-over-with-because-the-concept-no-longer-interests-me-anymore”-ness 😔 BUT WITH KICKOFF! I’m so happy that the author is as passionate about the characters and plot in their fanfiction as I am, and hard work really does pay off! (for the reader, hard work is waiting 3 weeks for a new fic— but the read’s always better the longer you wait 😉)

My ADHD really came out here I deeply apologize but my ACTUAL final words are: I wish I had a bf like gojo, Oh My God You Are A Legend Ellie, You are most deserving person of meeting Gojo Satoru FIRST if he ever comes to life, it is 1am haha so i’m sleeping now ☺️🤍 Celestiefan300 out!

MY SWEET ANGEL BB CELESTIEFAN3000 😭🫶🏼💕💕 HI DEAR

UMM CAN I JUST SAY IM AB TO SOB ALR JUST FROM HOW LONG THIS ASK IS ??? PLS FORGIVE MY URGE TO RESPOND TO EVERY ASPECT OF IT

thank you sm for the compliments on the writinf omg i rly feel comin into my own now n finding my voice as i continue to write more so seeing u say that esp as a long term reader is just ssooo dhddldfk 🥺💕 brb gonna cry

PLS IM SO SORRY FOR THE SAD EMOTIONSS aaa yes the baby steps to build their relationship has been……baby stepping indeed LOL but it was so nice to write the scene at rhe end where gojo comforts her 😭💕 so excited to write lovey dovey gojo now

OMG STOPPP w the nice words i will literally eat u for breakfast🧍🏻‍♀️the contrast w the soothing rain & hectic bar scene 😭 u pointing that out just made me soooo freaking happyy and wahh im so glad the scenes resonate w you :””) <33

ME TOO I FEEL IM HOLDING BACK ALL THE 😭😭😭 WMOJIS I COULD USE READING THIS ASK

awhh thanks darling im so happy kickoff has ur continued interest and AW to hear its improving means sm to me 🥺💕 im so passionate ab it, it has been so cathartic to write, and although its also hard to write sometimes bc of the personal aspects, it’s so joyous to me and i look forward to seeing it thru to the end w the same amt of passion. HAHAHA its hard work to read tho damn 😮‍💨 ur not wrong!! and also yes i too will be daydreaming of what happens next 🤣

my final words: i love u sm, YOU deserve a satoru (but i will gladly have him too if u say so🙈), so blessed to have u as a reader, and please get some good sleep my love <33

eeeeeee 🫶🏼💕

[dreamcatchers-husband]

Carpool

Male reader x Miyawaki Sakura

Length: 2600+

Tags: Cheating? Creampie

A/N- not really revised so sorry for typos and such. Wrote this randomly today in a BFH.

Pt 1

Did you mention you love your job?. Yeah you probably did, so all that can be skipped. The next few days pass as it’s time for the next shoot for your girlfriend and her members. This shoot was different then the last one. The main focus on the previous shoot was to show them as fearless with all the cars, but this shoot is to show a bit more of a feminine side. 

Chaewon was laying down on a couch of sorts with a tight top that hugged her breast. Sure they weren’t the biggest but you loved her body and would enjoy them every time. 

“That’s great Chaewon!.” 

Your girlfriend continued to look at the camera seductively. Each photo you took of her was another moment you wanted to pounce on her small figure and claim her in front of everyone. 

After a few more minutes your shoot with chaewon ends as you start to pack up your things. You start to hear a bit of arguing behind you as you finally look back. Looking at the staff you see they are unhappy with something. 

“Ya, what’s wrong?” 

The staff look quite nervous but get closer to speak. 

“Sir, I’m very sorry but most of the pictures that were taken of Chaewon were not saved. We are going to need to do a reshoot.” 

“Are you serious?. I'm tired and want to go home!”

“We are so sorry sir, but how about we do the reshoot right now and you head home? I’m sure we can handle it.” 

Considering they lost the pictures from earlier you aren’t quite sure if they can handle it, but on the other hand, you would love to go home already. 

“Ok ok fine. I will inform Miss Chaewon while you all set everything up again.” 

“YES SIR!” 

Walking past the crew, you make your way to the dressing room and knock on the door. The door opens as you see Sakura still in her outfit from earlier. 

“Oppa hi. What do you need?” 

“Hi, can I come in? I need to talk to chaewon very urgently about the shoot.” 

Sakura just waves for you to enter as you walk in. When you see your girlfriend she only has her skirt on, her small breast on display. 

“Oh Oppa, are you horny already?” 

All you could do is laugh as you got closer and kiss her on the lips. 

“As much as I would love to take you home and fuck you nonstop there is an issue. Most of your photos were not saved and they need to be reshot.”

“Oh come on!” 

“I know sweetie, but it needs to be done. My team will take your photos and I will wait for you at home. I have been here for almost 16 hours now.” 

“Awe, I hoped it would be you to take my photos again but you're tired for sure.” 

“I will wait for you at home ok?” 

“Oppa, I had invited Sakura unnie to our home for a sleepover, can you give her a ride to our apartment?” 

You look over and see Kkura smiling at you. 

“Um yeah sure. I didn’t know she was gonna visit today but that’s fine.” 

“Thanks, Oppa you’re the best!.” 

Your face is littered with kisses from her as she brings her face near your ear. 

“Pull out or you're dead.” 

Your eyes shoot open as you see chaewon put her top back on and run out the room. Sure you could assume what she meant when she said that but you would think Sakura would want to fuck you. She probably doesn’t even have any clue what was whispered in your ear. 

“I’ll be waiting outside. Feel free to change and we can head our way home.” 

“Oh I’m just gonna go home in this outfit and I have spare clothes to sleep in. Let’s go!” 

Looking at Sakura you see her figure. She went to the gym to help maintain her beautiful figure as well as breasts that were slightly bigger than chaewon. Wait, you shouldn't be looking at your girlfriend's member like this. 

“Um yeah let’s go, I guess we are carpooling.” 

As you make your way through the studio, you arrive at the front door and are met with a cool breeze when you open it. Sakura seems to shiver a little bit from the air so you remove your jacket and put it over her shoulders. 

“Thank you, such a gentleman.” 

All you can do is laugh as you walk towards your car. Standing at the passenger door, you then open the door and help Sakura sit down. You then run to the driver's door and settle down in your seat. Pressing down on the Brake Pedal, you then press the start button as your car engine roars. 

The car ride to your apartment was quite calm with you making small talk with Sakura until you arrived. Once your vehicle is parked, you help Sakura out and walk to the entrance. Once the pass to enter the building is scanned, you both get to the elevator and make it to the 13th floor. Exiting the elevator, your front door is just a few steps away as you input your door code. 

“Please make yourself at home.” 

Sakura then walks into the small hallway and continues till she arrives at the living room. 

“I haven’t been here in a little bit. Is that a new couch?” 

“Um yeah, we had a small accident with the other one.” 

You are not about to tell her it broke because you having sex with chaewon. 

“Oh, right you and chae broke it having sex.” 

Well never mind, you didn’t even need to tell her.

“Sometimes I forget how open you and my girlfriend are with each other.” 

“We have known each other for several years, of course, she tells me everything since it’s just me and her now.” 

“Ah yes girl talk, it’s great she has someone to do that.” 

Sakura process to just nod at your statement 

“Anyways can I take a shower?” 

“Oh yeah for sure, let me just show you where it is.” 

Sakura then follows behind you as you lead her to the bathroom. When you open the door you feel Sakura push you into the bathroom. As you tumble into the restroom your attention goes back to Sakura as she closes the door and looks at you, eyes full of a fiery lust. 

“Um Sakura, why did you push me in here?” 

“Chaewon was telling me about her favorite ride, so we decided I should take it for a spin.” 

“I’m sorry what?” 

Your eyes shoot open as Sakura unties her top and her boobs are exposed to you. Her hands then reach for her skirt as it slips down from her legs leaving her whole body exposed. Your heart is pounding as you're face to face with a naked woman that isn’t your significant other.

“I already told you, your girlfriend said you can fuck me. So I recommend you take off your clothes and come join me in the shower.” 

Sakura's ass is what blessed your eyes as she stepped into the big shower. You aren’t even sure how but your hands were moving on their own as your pants and underwear were already pulled down. As you walk over to the shower, your shirt comes off at a rapid speed, joining Sakura. 

The warm water that hits your chest is relaxing but you remember why you’re in there. Soft is all you can use to describe the feeling of Sakura’s skin as your hands touch her shoulders. Pulling her closer to your own body, Sakura begins to let out soft moans from your kisses on her neck. 

“Mmhmm, that’s it. Touch my body. It’s yours tonight.” 

Your hands reach for the soap and slowly rub it all over her body as you feel her body. 

Sakura quickly spins around as her lips are attached to your own. Aggressive is the best term to describe the kiss. Her tongue seems to try to get access to your mouth, but you push her up against the shower wall and push your tongue into her mouth. Your tongue follows hers around as they fight each other. Eventually, Sakura stops her small battle and lets her be controlled by your kiss. 

As you continue to kiss her, your hand moves to her breast as you grab a handful. Just as you imagined before, her breasts were slightly bigger than your girlfriend's and you love it. Pulling back from the kiss, your mouth reattached to her neck as you pepper it with kisses moving down to her shoulder and moving inwards to her boobs. 

“Ah,”  is all that leaves Sakura’s mouth as you suck on her nipple. Your tongue swirls around you and gives it small flicks, causing Sakura to moan more. Your attention then moves to her left breast as you continue the Same pattern you did on her other boob. 

After your assault on her other breast, you pull back and see Sakura open her eyes and smirk. 

“I felt you poking me, let’s give your friend some attention.” 

Sakura then drops to the floor and grips your shaft in her small hands. 

“God, look at this monster. I can’t wait till you fuck me with this, but let’s have a little taste for now.” 

Your body jerks as her lips form a seal around your cock. You feel your shaft start to enter the rest of her mouth as she pulls you as deep as possible. When you feel the back of Sakura’s throat, you’re amazed that she holds the position for a long time. Pulling back from your cock, Sakura gasps for air as her hand's stroke your shaft at a rapid speed. The seal returns on your shaft as Sakura bobs her head, giving you the pleasure you haven’t felt before. 

As Sakura lets go of your cock, she turns around to face the wall again and wiggles her ass at you. 

“Enough foreplay, shove that monster in me.” 

You don’t have to be told twice as you push your length into her pussy. 

“FUCK,” 

“That’s it, fuck my little pussy.” 

As you grab on her hip you pull her back on your cock with no remorse. You were partly scared it would be too much for her but the laughter and moans that leave her mouth tell you otherwise. As you continue to fuck her, you see her ass is turning red from how hard you are shoving into her. 

“Fuck this is some good cock, we should have done this earlier.” 

You can’t even say anything as you continue to just fuck her like a bunny in heat. 

Your left-hand lets go of her waist as you reach down and look for her clit. After a bit of searching, you find it and rub it to help Sakura with more pleasure. Her walls quickly start to constrict around your cock as she starts to yell. 

“Fuck I'm gonna cum!.” 

A rush of fluids hit your legs as Sakura cums. Slowing down from your vigorous fucking you spin Sakura and kiss her once again. With all your strength you pick her up in your arms and make your way to the bedroom. Once you are in front of your bed you drop her as she laughs. 

“I haven’t had a good fuck in a long time, and with a cock like that of course I came quickly. But either way, I want some more.” 

You smirk as you Line up your cock back with her folds and push back into her. You thought you had never felt anything as tight as Sakura before, but entering her again after she just orgasmed was another story. As you push all the way in, your tip reaches into what could have been her womb. 

“Fuck Oppa, I love your dick.” 

You pull your upper body down as your mouth is next to her ear. 

“Fuck Kkura, I’ve never had pussy this good.” 

You would never admit it to your girlfriend, but Sakura was tighter than her. 

Pulling your hips back you shove your length back in and continue fucking her like before. Sakura starts to match your speed as if she’s trying to break a new record when it comes to fucking. You pull her upper body back up with your own as you touch your forehead with hers. Making eye contact with Sakura turns you into even more of a beast as you make animalistic grunts every time you enter her. 

Eventually, you feel Sakura’s walls tighten around your shaft. 

“Fuck I'm gonna cum again, don’t stop!.” 

You had no plan of stopping as you continue to fuck her pussy. Eventually, another rush of fluids leaves her pussy as you feel it run down your cock. You stole yourself from going crazy anymore and let Sakura rest for a quick second. 

“Fuck Sakura, you are a wild fuck.” 

“Look who’s talking, but I think it’s your time to cum.” 

Before you could even say anything you feel Sakura move her hips as she fucks herself on your dick. You grab her hips again and continue your pleasure as you are hit with a sensation you haven’t felt before. Sakura smirks as she seems to clench a little and her pussy give you the best feeling you have ever had fucking someone. 

“Sakura, keep doing that and I’ll cum. Let me know so I can pull out .” 

“Who said anything about pulling out?” 

You feel her legs wrap around your back and she continues her massage on your cock, you are going to cum soon.

“Sakura I need to pull out!.” 

“Come on, I know you have always wanted to cum in a girl. Now is your chance, fucking fill my pussy.” 

Your mind wanders back to what Chaewon said, to pull out but your body is reminding you to do something else. 

“Cum inside me.” 

Those three words just cause you to grab back into her hips and fuck her harder than ever until your peak arrives. Sakura’s warm walls start to milk you of all you have as you shoot shot after shot into her pussy. Cuming inside a girl is a sensation you never had felt before, but now you are just gonna want to do this more often. 

As you finish cuming you feel all the strength in your legs give out as you fall on top of Sakura. Laughter fills the room as you kiss Sakura all over her face finally attaching back to her lips. 

Once your make-out session ends you pull back and smile at Sakura. 

“That was wild.” 

“Yes, it was.” 

You look back into her eyes as you both get closer and closer. 

Bang 

Is the noise that hits your ears as you both look to the bedroom door and see Chaewon standing there, and she does not look happy. You stand up in fear from the look in her eyes. 

“I SAID PULL OUT!.” 

Chaewon rushes at you as you feel a slap on your face. 

You look back at her as she grabs your face in her hands. 

“Looks like you can’t follow instructions well, but you are lucky Kkura and I are sharing you as a boyfriend now.” 

“I’m sorry what?” 

“You heard her, you’re my boyfriend now too. And don’t be angry Chaewon. Just get a load in your pussy now then.” 

Honestly, you are very confused about when they planned all this but you feel Chae push you back into the bed you just shared moments ago with Sakura. 

“You are lucky it was so hot when you came in her. I wanted to be first but you'll just have to give me two loads in my pussy tonight to make up for it.” 

“Make that three loads, I want another load from my new boyfriend as well.” 

Sakura and Chaewon laugh as they both approach you like hungry animals.

Guess you have a busy night with your girlfriends. 

[justanamesstuff]

could we get a blurb about matty on father’s day? like when he gets spoilt by his little ones and it’s all cute handmade gifts as well

A/N: This is really based on my own thoughts during Father's Day, because I don't celebrate any more. Made myself emotional over this lol haha. sorry for typos

Matty is probably the first one to wake up that day because he's always the one in charge of making breakfast for the kids. He grew fond of waking them every morning, caring Arthur or the youngest around because they're still really sleep and the feeling of them cuddling him is the best.

Taking that into account, Y/n managed to help the kids the day before --when he was away with the band--. Amelia being the oldest one is really thoughtful about her present. She tries really hard to draw something cool for him. Mel was getting more into drawing and painting; which Matty really encouraged her to pursue and always taught her the few tricks he knew. So she tried to draw a little cartoon about them.

The two youngest were another story. Arthur was still really young, and baby nº3 was almost one year old. That's why Y/n thought the best idea was to submerge the kid's hands in paint and left the mark on a white t-shirt. She and Amelia also participated, but it was mainly Arthur and baby's gift for Matty.

Y/n helped Arthur scrabble his name as best as he could, and she added baby's name under her own little hand.

When in the morning of Father's Day, Matty walked downstairs with his kids, his attention went directly to the kitchen's table.

"Come on, daddy." Amelia dragged him closer. He was trying to be careful with his little baby in his arms, while Arthur walked behind scratching his eyes, still wearing his pj's.

"All this for me?" he couldn't stop to feel really emotional.

"Yes!" Amelia shouted, making Arthur startled and wanted to cry. Y/n came from behind him, saving the moment, taking him into her arms.

"The kids wanted to make something special for you."

Matty glanced at her, with tears in his eyes, "You guys..." he left the baby on her high chair, going to grab the t-shirt. "Did you wrote your names?" Matty looked down between them, making the youngest laugh.

"Mom helped them, but i did it myself!" Mel said proud.

"My big girl." he said, bringing her closer to his side. "I'm going to wear it every day."

"You can't do that, daddy!" Mel chuckled watching him putting on the shirt.

"I'll, I promise."

"Look what Mel also did." Y/n handed him her drawing, feeling proud of her eldest daughter.

"You're bluffing, mom draw this!" Matty teased Mel.

"No, I did it, daddy!" she shouted.

"Really?" he arched an eyebrow, looking at the drawing.

"Yes!" she jumped upside down.

"Come here, i need a big hug and a kiss!" Matty kneeled down, engulfing her. "I love it, mel-me." he finally told her.

"I love you, daddy." he replied to it.

Matty let her go, taking times to kiss the other two babies and Y/n, whispering for her, "Thank you for making me a dilf." she laughed out loud, pecking his lips.

"Happy Father's Day, daddy!" Y/n joked, Matty groaned.