#if it was just to keep the wind from blowing open the door why not say something?

[actuallybean]

Why Not Uponeth Me?*

Bucky’s idea of sparring ends up being a lot more hands-on than you imagined. *Contains sexual material: Minors DNI Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader Tag List: @mostlymarvelgirl Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist A/N: Even though this wasn't inspired by Bed Chem by Sabrina Carpenter, I had to use that line for the title lol enjoy ;)

The training room of the Avengers Compound was always quiet when it wasn’t in use, the echoes of footsteps or the occasional grunt carrying through the expansive space. Today, however, it felt different. The air was thick with a tension that neither of you could deny.

You were sparring, alone. It wasn’t a particularly new thing for you. In fact, it was how you preferred to train, away from the eyes of others. You had your own rhythm, your own pace, and no one could judge you for slowing down or speeding up. It was just you and the heavy bag in front of you, your fists landing with the sharp precision you���d spent years perfecting.

A familiar sound echoed behind you, though you didn’t turn. The faint click of boots on the floor, the creak of a door opening, and the unmistakable quiet strength of Bucky Barnes entering the room. You’d noticed him hanging around lately, eyes following your movements from a distance, but you hadn’t expected him to actually approach.

“You’ve been working hard,” Bucky’s voice broke through the hum of your focus, his words warm but tinged with something else you couldn’t place.

You paused, wiping a bead of sweat from your forehead, your chest rising and falling from the exertion. Bucky stood in the doorway, arms folded, eyes scanning you with that familiar, intense gaze. You always felt like he was looking through you, as if seeing things most people never did.

“I’m just warming up,” you said, trying to sound casual. It wasn’t like you to shy away from a challenge, but the way he looked at you now, like he saw everything, made you feel self-conscious. “What brings you here, Barnes?”

A small smile tugged at his lips, but it was laced with something softer. Something that made your heart race without permission. “Wanted to see if you wanted to spar. You’ve been at it for a while, and I thought I’d join you.”

You set your jaw, trying to ignore the fluttering in your chest. You’d sparred with plenty of people in the compound, but there was something different about this. Something about Bucky that made it feel... charged.

You stepped away from the heavy bag and motioned to the mat. “Sure. Let’s see if you can keep up.”

He chuckled, low and rich, before peeling off his leather jacket and tossing it aside. His eyes never left you as he approached the center of the room. You squared up, raising your fists, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you.

It wasn’t the first time you’d sparred with him, but it was different this time. There was an unspoken tension in the air, a thick electric current that ran between the two of you every time he moved, every time his arm brushed against yours. He was careful, precise, but you could tell he wasn’t holding back. And neither were you.

Your punches collided with his, the sound sharp and heavy in the room. It was intense, almost overwhelming. Every time you made contact, there was a rush of adrenaline. His strength was obvious, the fluidity of his movements almost mesmerizing, like a well-practiced dance. But you weren’t about to be outdone. Your body moved with equal grace and speed, pushing yourself to keep up with him.

After a few minutes of exchanging blows, you found yourself momentarily winded. You were fast, but Bucky was stronger, his muscle and precision making it hard to land a hit without being countered. You stepped back, raising your hands in defense, your heart hammering in your chest.

“You’re holding back,” you said, breathing heavily, your eyes narrowing.

Bucky’s lips quirked up into a smile, a knowing glint in his eyes. “I’m not. You’re just better than I expected.”

Your pulse quickened at his words, but you weren’t about to let him get the best of you. You lunged forward again, this time with more focus, more speed. You aimed for his ribs, but he easily sidestepped, catching your arm and twisting it behind your back. In a heartbeat, you were on the ground, breath knocked from your lungs as Bucky held you there.

His grip was firm, but there was something different about the way he held you down. His eyes, those dark, soulful eyes, never left yours. His breath was heavy in the quiet space between you, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. There was only the sound of your rapid breathing, and the weight of the moment hung heavy in the air. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, his muscles tense beneath the fabric of his shirt.

Your chest rises and falls in rapid rhythm, breath catching as you stare into his eyes—those striking, ice-blue eyes that seem to burn hotter than fire despite their color. They hold a thousand unspoken words, a tension that’s been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. The world around you fades, the only sound the echo of your own ragged breathing and the distant hum of the training room. Just as you part your lips to speak—maybe to say something, maybe to stop yourself from doing exactly what you’ve both been thinking—Bucky surges forward. His mouth crashes against yours with the desperation of a man who’s been holding back for far too long, like he’s been starving for this, for you, and he’s finally letting himself give in.

Your back hits the mat before you even register the movement—his weight pressing into you, strong arms caging you in like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. The kiss deepens, no longer rushed, but hungry. Commanding. His metal hand cradles your jaw, cool against the heat blooming under your skin, while his flesh hand grips your hip like it’s the only anchor he has left in the world.

You gasp into his mouth when his teeth graze your bottom lip, and the sound only seems to spur him on. His lips leave yours for just a moment, traveling along your jaw, your neck—leaving heat in their wake. Your fingers find his hair, tugging gently, and he groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your skin and sending a pulse straight through you.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs against your throat, but it’s not a real question. His hand slides beneath your shirt, rough fingertips skating across heated skin like he already knows the answer.

You don’t say anything—you can’t. Not when his touch feels like lightning and every nerve in your body is begging for more.

You lift your hips in silent invitation, and that’s all it takes. His mouth is back on yours, his kisses rougher now, breathless and possessive, like he’s trying to memorize every curve, every sound, every inch of you.

Training is long forgotten. The fight you started is over—this one, though, the one between control and desire? That’s only just begun.

His hands are everywhere—one warm and calloused, the other cool and unyielding—and together they draw every shiver, every gasp from your skin. Bucky pulls back for only a second to yank your training shirt over your head, eyes raking over you like he’s seeing something sacred, something he's craved in silence far too long. His pupils are blown wide, hunger written in every inch of him.

“God, you’re…” he starts, but doesn’t finish. Doesn’t have to. His mouth is on your collarbone, then your chest, kissing, licking, nipping—taking his time like he wants to memorize every reaction. His flesh hand cradles your breast while his metal one trails down your stomach, leaving goosebumps in its path, anticipation curling low and tight inside you.

When his fingers slip past the waistband of your leggings, your breath stutters. He feels the slick warmth waiting for him and groans—a low, raw sound that sends heat straight through your core.

“Already so wet for me, doll,” he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Been thinking about this for weeks.”

Your hips roll up into his hand, seeking more, needing more. He chuckles darkly, voice husky. “Impatient.”

You’re about to fire back when two fingers slide inside you—thick, steady, confident. You moan, head tipping back as he sets a slow, maddening rhythm. His thumb circles your clit with just enough pressure to make your thighs tremble.

“Bucky—” you gasp, but he silences you with his mouth again, swallowing your cries as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

When you finally fall apart, it’s with his name on your lips, hips arching into him, breath breaking in waves.

He doesn't give you long to recover. Your leggings are gone before you know it, tossed aside without a second thought. Bucky rises just enough to shed his shirt and pants, and your eyes drink in the sight of him—broad chest heaving, abs taut, cock thick and flushed, already leaking at the tip. He leans down, brushing his nose against yours.

“You sure?” he asks, voice rough but sincere.

Your answer is a whisper against his lips. “Yes. God, yes.”

He lines himself up and pushes in slowly, inch by inch, eyes locked on yours the entire time. The stretch is delicious, overwhelming, perfect. He groans your name like a prayer, like it’s the only thing tethering him to earth.

Once he’s fully seated, he stills, letting you both feel it—how right it is, how deep. Then he starts to move.

It’s slow at first, deep and measured. Every thrust pushes a new sound from your lips, every grind of his hips draws you higher. He braces himself above you with his metal arm while his other hand grips your thigh, spreading you open wider, letting him sink even deeper.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he rasps, sweat beginning to bead on his skin. “Like you were made for me.”

You meet his pace, nails dragging down his back, your moans filling the air as he picks up speed. The room is heat and breath and skin, the steady slap of bodies colliding, the rough sound of Bucky’s voice whispering your name, praising every reaction you give him.

You’re close again—he can tell. He drops his hand between you, fingers circling your clit again with practiced precision.

“Come on, baby,” he murmurs against your lips. “Give it to me. Let go.”

And you do—with a cry that rips through you as you shatter a second time, clenching around him, pulling him deeper, tighter.

Bucky follows moments later, burying himself to the hilt with a low, broken moan, spilling into you as he trembles through his release. He stays there, forehead pressed to yours, both of you catching your breath, your heartbeats slowing in tandem.

When the haze finally clears, he presses a soft kiss to your temple, then your lips, this time gentle, lingering.

Slowly—so slowly—it begins to ebb. The electricity crackling under your skin softens to a quiet hum, the sharp edges of pleasure giving way to warmth, to the weight of Bucky still draped over you, his breath ghosting over your shoulder in heavy, satisfied waves. Your heart is still pounding, but it's no longer trying to break free from your chest—it’s steady now, tethered to the steady rhythm of his.

But then reality begins to creep in around the edges, slinking back like a cold breeze through a cracked window.

You're in the training room. Stark’s public training room. And you and Bucky are sprawled naked on the sparring mat, tangled together, still catching your breath in the aftermath of something so raw, so intimate, it feels like the world should’ve stopped to witness it.

You blink at the ceiling above you, heart skipping a new beat—not from pleasure this time, but from the sharp stab of panic.

“Oh shit…” you whisper, eyes wide now, thoughts racing.

Bucky hums sleepily against your collarbone, lips brushing your skin. “Hm?”

You push gently at his chest. “We need to get up. Like… right now.”

His brow furrows as he leans up, hair tousled, eyes still heavy-lidded and soft. “What’s the rush, doll?”

You shoot him a look, already reaching for your scattered clothes. “Because if Steve walks in and sees us like this, he’s going to lecture us for an hour on ‘professionalism’ and ‘boundaries’ and God knows what else.”

That earns you a low chuckle. “You worried about Cap seeing your ass?”

“No, I’m worried about him seeing yours,” you hiss, pulling your shirt on backwards in your haste.

“And don’t even get me started on Clint,” you add. “He’d never let us live it down.”

Bucky groans and sits up reluctantly, reaching for his pants with one hand while raking the other through his hair. “Damn it. You’re right.”

You both scramble to dress, giggling under your breath like teenagers sneaking out after curfew. Your legs still feel shaky, and Bucky nearly falls over trying to pull on his boots, but the urgency makes it all feel a little surreal—like a wild secret you both now share.

Just as you’re slipping your hoodie over your head, Bucky sidles up behind you, looping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss just below your ear.

“Next time,” he murmurs, voice deep and still a little breathless, “maybe we aim for somewhere with a lock.”

You toss a glance over your shoulder, lips curved in a smirk that’s far too knowing. “There’s going to be a next time?” you ask, voice sweet and edged with teasing disbelief.

Your brow arches in challenge, the tone behind your question daring him to answer wrong.

Bucky's gaze drops to the curve of your hips as you shift to pull your hoodie straight. That cocky half-smile returns to his lips—lazy, wolfish, and dangerous in all the right ways.

“Sweetheart,” he drawls, stepping closer, metal fingers brushing the small of your back, “after that? You really think there won’t be?”

Before you can fire off a sassy retort, his hand comes down—sharp and quick—with a firm smack to your ass, still hidden beneath the fabric of your leggings. The sound echoes just enough in the empty training room to make your eyes widen.

You gasp, partly from surprise, partly from the wicked thrill of it, and whirl to face him, one hand planted on your hip.

“Barnes,” you hiss, eyes narrowing, cheeks burning—though not from embarrassment. He only grins wider, like a man far too satisfied with himself.

“What?” he says, completely unrepentant, lifting a brow. “Just reminding you what you’ve got to look forward to.”

You roll your eyes, though your smirk betrays you. “You're insufferable.”

He leans in until your noses almost brush, voice a low whisper against your lips. “You love it.”

And maybe… maybe you do.

[papillon-mechant]

Omg imagine pastors daughter like bakes cupcakes and brownies for dealer Remus because he always seems to have them around so like she thinks he likes them. In reality those are just some edibles he made for order but how could he deny the baked goods she made him when she proudly showed them to him expectingly watching him as she ate, then asking if she could have one of his (a trade) and he's like those treats are no good for you strawberry ill make you another batch (without drugs but she doesn't need to know he makes them)

omg this is so late I'm sorry I'm just now seeing this! I love this idea so much!!!

You do your best to keep your head down as you walk through the unfamiliar neighborhood, trying not to think about how disappointed your father would be if he found out you were here. Approaching a rundown apartment building, you hold tightly to the fragile china plate in your hands as you make your way up a set of stairs so rundown it makes you wary of their sturdiness. The wind blows and one of the foil pieces covering the plate almost blows away and you almost fall down the stairs trying to catch it.

Reaching the top of the stairs, you take your phone out of your purse and double check your messages, a shiver running down your spine at the thought of knocking on the wrong door. When you're sure you've found the right door, you take a moment to adjust your outfit, making sure your skirt is just below your knees and adjusting the cross around your neck so it sits perfect on your chest.

Balancing the plate on one hand you knock softly on the door, trying not to seem too demanding. There's a quiet shuffling behind the door, then a small crash and a quick mutter of "shit" that makes you giggle on the other side. A moment later, the door opens and Remus stands in the doorway, a soft smile spreading across his face when he realizes it's you at his door. You take a moment to scan his frame, taking in the site of the tall man. His hair is disheveled, as if he had just lifted his head from his pillow. The muscle-t that he wears is cut low on the sides, giving a small glimpse of his muscular frame. It takes everything in you to tear your eyes away.

"Hello Strawberry." He quips, a softness to his voice that's only ever present when you are. He steps to the side, offering you entrance into his home. You graciously accept, feeling your skin heat up when Remus puts his hand on your shoulder to guide you in.

"To what do I owe the pleasure sweets?" Remus asks, gesturing towards a small recliner in the corner of the living room. Taking a seat you can't help but breathe in a little harder when the smell of Remus engulfs you from the chair.

"Well the last time you picked me up I noticed a container of brownies in your back seat. I wasn't snooping or anything! I just happened to see them and I kind of like baking too so I thought maybe I could make you some brownies and you could try them but if you don't want to you don't have to. Did you eat already? You probably ate already. I'm sorry I'll just-"

"Woah there fraise, slow down." Remus chuckles, always loving your tendency to ramble on. He caught about half of what you said, enough for him to understand why you showed up at his door with a plate of mystery treats in hand. You flash a shy smile, silently apologizing for your tangent. Remus laughs lightly, taking the plate from your hand and removing the foil, revealing a beautifully delicious looking pile of fudgy chocolate brownies.

"Oh darling, these look divine!" Remus grabs a square from the plate and wastes no time taking a bite. It's so good, he moans. Remus actually moans. The sound turns your face bright red, sending a strange feeling down your back.

"They're AMAZING love." He gushes, dramatically licking his fingers with the last bite. The praise makes you blush even harder as you physically feel your face getting hotter. A surge of pride washes over you, happy you're able to satisfy Remus' insatiable sweet tooth. Scanning the apartment, your eyes land on a container sitting on the kitchen counter that resembles the one you saw in his back seat. You start to get excited at the idea of tasting Remus' baking for yourself.

"Um...remmy?" You begin timidly, "Can I try yours now?" Remus' expression changes to one of confusion, following your gaze to the red container sitting on his counter. He can't contain the laugh that passes his lips while he thinks about how constantly he is reminded of your innocence.

"Not those Strawberry," He starts, and his heart breaks at the way your expression drops, bottom lip protruding, "They're no good for someone as sweet as you." He cups your face in his hands, brushing your wobbling lip with the pad of his thumb, "I'll make a fresh batch, just for you." You smile wide at the proposition, wrapping your arms around his neck for a hug, giggling softly when he tightens his grip on your waste and lifts you off the ground.

[treesbian]

hey general public. if someone is fostering your cats for you while you're between homes + you were unexpectedly homeless for like 3 weeks + you haven't been able to get to housing that will allow your pets to come with you yet, and you're in regular contact with that someone discussing those cats and paying for their care needs, and then that someone messages you saying they decided they're just going to keep your pets because they decided that's what's best for them, that's stealing, right? that's stealing? the general public of reasonable people in the world agree that that is theft? yes?

that's what these bitches did to my godsister fuck them!!! but they got threatened with criminal theft charges and handed them over ^_^ and my aunt already pressed trespassing charges on them lol. but when I texted them to yell at them about it they lied saying they never stole any cats but like. what they did was stealing. my mom had to take it all the way up to the police but I kind of don't feel bad because it was their own damn fault. I hope their lives aren't ruined forever but I do hope they learn what a consequence is

[nereidprinc3ss]

strange perfections

in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!

series masterlist

fluff! warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses

The café door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruder—a hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf. 

Stupid scarf, you think. 

Stupid door. 

Stupid wind. 

Your mug is empty, and the table you’re sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. It’s the third café you’ve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feels… inconvenient. 

You look at the stack of papers and sigh. 

Stupid Lord Byron. 

Stupid cafe. 

Usually, cafés are relatively quiet and peaceful—a refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagers—presumably playing hooky—who have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldn’t have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly. 

One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable. 

Just as you’re gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, it’s accompanied by a particularly strong gust. 

Strong enough that Lord Byron doesn’t stand a chance. 

Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once. 

Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky café. 

As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk. 

It’s silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You can’t even respond—you look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor. 

Eventually the boy catches on that you’re not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here. 

“Here—I’m really sorry about this,” someone says—a tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up. 

“I’ll live,” you sigh, straightening up. “But thank… you.”

The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. He’s gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldn’t now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the café and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping he’s looking at you. 

“On the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other… I feel compelled to say at least they’re not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?”

You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angular—they’re huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown you’ve ever seen, and they’re looking right back at you—and you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that. 

Think of something normal to say!

“Yeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That… that don’t have page numbers.”

You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.

“Um… I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?”

You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?

“That’s okay. Might be easier with just one person.”

He laughs—it’s similarly awkward, similarly endearing. 

“Do you mind letting me just… try? It’ll only take a minute.”

Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?

But, perhaps because you’re a pushover who can’t stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out. 

“Sure. Give it your best shot. I’ll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.”

He’s already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, “I have Byron memorized. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. He’s definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles. 

All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go. 

Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before he’s tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. There’s almost a glow about him—like he couldn’t be more in his comfort zone. 

“There you go. Should be in order now.” You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot. 

“How did you do that?” 

His cheeks turn slightly pink. 

“I know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.”

“How did you read that fast?”

“Uh. I’m a speed-reader?”

You scoff, taking another look through the stack. 

“I think that may be underselling it.” A thought occurs to you as you’re grazing over one of your longer annotations—full of expletives and strong opinions. “Oh, god. You didn’t… you didn’t read my notes?”

The man’s eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesn’t quite know how to break it to you gently. 

“Maybe a few,” he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. “I appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was… colorful.”

Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble. 

“Yeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. They’re less cute when there’s like a fifty percent chance he’s writing about his sister.”

“Half sister,” he corrects. You give him a look. 

“Does that make it better?”

“… no,” he realizes. “Not even a little bit.”

You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels. 

“Well… thank you, for the help,” you say after a silent second. 

“Of course. Sorry, again. I, um—I hope your day gets better?”

“Yeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? It’s kind of a low bar.”

He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize it’s approaching one in the afternoon. If he’d been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself. 

He was totally in love with me. 

And he can’t prove me wrong because I’ll probably never see him again. 

All things considered—this coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe you’ll stick with it for a while. 

The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days later—though you’ve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it. 

I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously you’re not that divorced from reality, but you’ll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this café. 

What you’re absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup. 

“Hi,” he says. 

“Hi!”

Jesus. Tone it down, girl scout. 

He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer. 

Spencer. Spencer. 

It feels important. 

“I see you’ve upgraded.”

“Yes! Yes, I did,” you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. “Thank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it weren’t for that, so… yeah. Thanks.”

“Of course! I’m glad I could be of use.”

“Spence!” Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away. 

Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you. 

Spence. 

Reality sets in. 

“Coming!” He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. “Um… well… I’ll see you?”

It’s an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly don’t care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk. 

“I am a creature of habit.”

Another wave as he walks away. 

The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way. 

“Who was that?” 

“Uh… I don’t actually know.”

Yeah. Reality definitely sets in. 

Over the next few days, you break your café streak. Life is busy. There’s not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up. 

Okay, so… maybe it has more to do with him than you’re letting on. But you’re not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you don’t know and who is way out of your league just because you can’t form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldn’t be compatible anyway. He’s probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality. 

Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.

But you hadn’t been lying when you’d proclaimed to be a creature of habit—you return to the café once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character. 

He’s there. Of course he’s there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? It’s not like he was a figment of your imagination. 

This time he’s accompanied by a different blonde woman—a bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. She’s quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if you’re supposed to know her, but certainly you’d remember meeting a person like that. She doesn’t seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, who’s looking between you with an almost panicked expression. 

“Oh! Th—” the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud she’s being in the otherwise silent establishment. “Ah! Okay, right. Never mind.”

 Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but you’re baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading. 

Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more. 

“Go, go ahead! It’s more problematic for you to be late than me. I’ll be like, thirty seconds tops.”

You don’t look up as Spencer leaves the café—but are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who you’d presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?

While you’re wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table. 

“Hi!” She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin. 

“Uh… hi?”

“I’m Penelope. You’ve met my friend Spencer. He just left.”

“Oh—sort of,” you smile weakly, closing your book. “Not formally. I didn’t know his name.”

That’s a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real. 

“Well, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet you’re a really cool person.”

“Um—thank you!” You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms you—you didn’t think your look was all that interesting today. “You too. I love your outfit.”

“Great! You’re—you’re great. This is good information. Um… just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Oh—and your zodiac sign?”

What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ploy—

“Garcia!”

Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed. 

Adorable? Get a grip. 

“Wh—I’m just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?”

“This is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,” he urges. 

You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?

“It’s fine,” you smile, introducing yourself to her.

“That is such a good name!” She says, and you’re getting the sense she’s kind of always this enthusiastic. “So now we know each other’s names—we should probably definitely be friends, right?”

“Yeah! Um, definitely!”

“Yes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, um—we work at Quantico, so, we’re like, 10 minutes away—but this is better than the coffee shop that’s closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually it’s just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.”

“Quantico… that’s the FBI academy, right?”

“Other stuff, too,” she nods, still smiley. 

Oh! Cool. So they’re FBI agents. 

So that’s cool. 

You’re cool with that. 

Her phone starts ringing—she locks eyes with Spencer. 

“Hotch?”

“Ooh, we are in trouble,” Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. “Bye, new friend!” She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers. 

“Bye,” you manage, though it’s probably too quiet. 

Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again. 

You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. You hope he doesn’t read into it. 

Nah. Boys are dumb. 

You text Penelope later that afternoon—a simple greeting so that she can save your number—and then you forget about it. 

It’s not until five days go by without sign of any of them—the two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figure—that you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?

But of course, just as you’re sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone. 

He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave you’d come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line. 

Weird.

You corner him at the coffee bar, where he’s adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?

“Hey,” you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. “… Spencer, right?”

It’s comical how you’re pretending you haven’t turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it. 

He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second. 

“I heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if that’s…”

“No, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...”

“Today is operating system update day, so I don’t even really have a way of knowing if she’s alive in her office.” It’s funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. “She’s our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.”

“Oh… does the FBI not have, like… an IT guy, or something?”

He laughs again—the way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless. 

“You should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.”

It’s hard not to smile when he’s smiling because of you—however indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize you’ve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long. 

“Alright, well… tell her good luck, for me?”

“I would, but I’ve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.”

Your brow furrows and you laugh. 

“From the whole building? You just can’t keep your hands off your computer for an hour?”

“Not if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. I’ve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and I’d rather not be that person again.”

You say it before you can think too hard. 

“Well, if you have an hour to kill… there’s an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.”

And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid. 

After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every day—except for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane job—and sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who you’ve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he can’t spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice. 

One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like it’s not happening.

It ceases. And then it starts again. 

Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentence—like he knows you’re about to tell him to be responsible. 

“Do you think you should…”

His hands drop from where they’d been enthusiastically positioned mid-air. 

“They’ll be fine if I’m late from lunch one time. I’m usually more punctual than any of them.”

You roll your lip between your teeth—it’s not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions you’ve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company. 

But his job is important. 

“What if you have a case?”

“Then I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.”

Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence.   

“I’m flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I can’t with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.”

As the laughter fades, he just… watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present. 

“You’re probably right,” he finally breathes. “Maybe… you should start taking up my other hours, instead?”

Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer. 

You balk.

“Like… we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?”

“Those are the basic premises, yes,” he chuckles, nodding affably. “I’ve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.”

“Where would this hanging out take place?”

Fuck, you’re totally being weird. His brow knits. 

“I don’t know. Where else do people hang out?”

He’s not genuinely asking you, he’s gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly. 

“Restaurants.”

There’s that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, there’s a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.

“That’s certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?”

You look down. God, your face feels warm. 

“Would you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that we’ve constructed, I mean.”

Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now. 

“I would.” 

More panic sets in—just a bit. But you don’t let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted. 

Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than you’d realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair. 

“You don’t have to say yes. I know we don’t know each other very well, I just—”

“No!” You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. “I would say yes. I’ve just, um—god,” you laugh gustily, self-consciously. “Sorry I’m being so weird. I’m out of my depth. Nobody’s asked me on a date before. I don’t really know the etiquette.”

Spencer chuckles. 

“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”

Not, what?

Not, you’ve never been on a date before?

Not, that’s crazy, or that’s weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?

With the implication being, you’re odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way. 

He says none of that. 

“But I should probably actually ask you, huh?” His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards. 

“Sounds like a good first step.”

Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real. 

“Will you go on a date with me?”

Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencing—your entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.

“I’d love to.”

He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair. 

“Oh, thank god. I was so nervous you’d say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldn’t have said no—it would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights to—”

His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interrupted—but admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute. 

“I should—”

“You definitely need to go.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a still-breathless smile. “Um—what’s your number?”

You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper. 

“I don’t—”

“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”

He’s so weird. 

A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. You’re already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go. 

-

part four

[whore4mattsturniolo]

IFLY- Dealer!Chris x Stoner!Reader

pt 2, pt 1 (can be read as a standalone but why would you)

DO NOT ANSWER Missed call

Your heart twanged in your chest as you heard Chris speak for the first time in weeks. His gravelly voice, stained with sorrow as slurred words slipped off his tongue. There was no real way to tell if he was genuine, if he actually felt bad for what he did. Even though a part of you was screaming to block him, to never speak to him again, there was another part of you. The part of you that Chris had in the palm of his hand, desperate to see him and feel his touch on your skin.

You had debated on calling him back, eager to see what he would say if he wasn't just recording himself talking. If he would tell you what he wanted to hear, face to face. But you didn't. You silenced your phone, and you went to sleep. He'd call back. Or he wouldn't. You couldn't bring yourself to care anymore.

knock, knock, knock

You blink yourself awake, shirt bunched up around your chest, blanket wrapped around your shivering body spread out on the couch. The TV is still playing, the low laugh track of an old sitcom echoing through the silent house. Your eyes flutter back shut, your brain determined to shut itself back off for the night, assuming that the knocking was from the show. No reasonable person would be awake right now, banging at your door at 4 in the morning.

knock, knock, KNOCK

The noise at your front door grew more insistent, causing you to groan in annoyance. You swing yourself off of the couch, your feet still wobbly from lack of use as you step on the soft carpet, walking towards the front door. Glaring into the small peephole, you see a figure dressed in all black, his head darting to look around his surroundings. He was holding something in his hand, but you couldn't quite make out what it was.

You rub your eyes, adjusting your appearance to look somewhat presentable, despite the fact that it was so early that no one, not even the mourning doves, were awake right now. The cool metal of the doorknob sends a shiver down your spine as you swing the door open, only to find Chris standing there.

This cannot be real

He flashes you a toothy grin, one hand stuffed in his pocket, the other holding up a bouquet of pink roses. They were fresh, still wrapped in plastic and dripping water into a puddle on the ground. Each one was perfectly bloomed with a blush pink exterior that faded into yellow as it swirled in the middle. You're completely stunned at the sight, still holding onto the door handle like its your saving grace.

"Hey, baby," Chris says, looking up into your eyes. "Y'busy?" A small smirk tugs at his lips as he admires your disheveled appearance. Your hair tied up, messy strands falling over your face. Your shirt hung loose on your frame, the collar hanging loose off your shoulders. Your eyes red and dry, still adjusting from the sudden jolt of being woken up.

"Chris, it's 4 in the morning," You throw your hand on your hip, leaning against the door frame. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Told you I was gonna bring ya flowers," his smile grows, holding the flowers out closer to you. "They smell good huh? Wanted to get the best ones f'you. Know how much you like pink and shit," his blue eyes have a sense of longing in them, carefully watching your expression to see how you'll react.

He knows he's ridiculous. But he also knows you'll let him in.

You cross your arms, looking at him with low eyes, not bothering to hide your sleepiness. Goosebumps rise all over your skin as the cold wind blows into your apartment. "You bought me flowers?" Your eyes soften slightly, but you keep the sternness in your voice. You're not gonna let him in that easily.

Chris nods, still sporting a small grin as he sniffs the flowers for himself. "You got the voicemail?

You raise your eyebrows, looking him up and down with skepticism. "I did."

"You didn't respond."

"For good reason."

Chris' expression falls into a pout, looking down at his shoes, a blush spreading across his cheeks. His beanie hands low over his head, containing his messy locs and covering his eyebrows. "Yeah...yeah...I know..." The silence between the two of you was deafening, the sounds of the night filling the quiet.  The only noise was the staticky hum of the flickering light over the stairs of your apartment complex and the laughter from your TV.

"Why are you here, Chris?" You cross your arms, guarding yourself off from him. "What could you possibly want from me?"

"C'mon, angel...I told you... I was gonna make it right," he steps closer to you, his voice laced with sincerity. "This is me...tryna make it right."

You squint, trying to see through his mask, trying to figure out his true intentions. But you can't see anything. He chews at his bottom lip, his hand still stuffed deep in his pocket. He's never felt this anxious before, and he's hanging off your every word. Gently, you move away from the door frame, motioning for him to come inside. Chris's head shoots up, a small smile spreading across his face as he steps inside.

He rests the flowers on the table in the living room, watching as you stand across from him. "Y'wanna talk?" He asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets again. He leans against the table, squinting his eyes slightly.

"Talk about what?" You say, picking up the roses and taking them to the kitchen. "Didn't know there was anything to talk about," you set them into a clear vase on the counter, holding back a smile at the sight. He did pick out the perfect ones.

Chris follows you into the kitchen, leaning against the countertop closest to you. "Me neither. But I've been thinkin' 'bout you. A lot," he points a finger at you. "I made you cry, kid. And I never...never want that t'happen. Never want you to cry 'cause of me," he reaches his hand out to touch you, but it just drops to his side.

"I just wanna make it right," He's growing closer by the second, his breath warm against your skin. He smells of alcohol and cologne, and you can't get enough of it.

He backs you against the sink, his fingers tracing patterns along your arm and shoulders. His breathing starts to grow heavy, his eyes moving down to your soft, plump lips, now formed in a pout. He leans forward, but you pull back. "Chris, I can't...I can't do this with you again..." You say softly, pressing your hands into his chest and pushing him back. All he does is hold your wrists, keeping you close. "You hurt me, Chris. Hurt me so bad I couldn't even get out of bed. I can't--I won't let you do that again," your words leave a pit in Chris' stomach. He just wanted to make it right. Make you feel right. Why were you being so difficult?

"I won't, mama, I won't. I...I promise..." He leans forward again, his lips just millimeters from yours.  "Just lemme make it right..." his voice is an intoxicating whisper as he lets out a shaky breath.

Warm tears form in the waterline of your lidded eyes, but you blink them away before they slide down your cheeks. You were just...tired. Tired of the back and forth, the mixed signals, the heartache. You just wanted him to be better.

He holds your face in his hand, the coldness of his finger tips sending chills down your spine. "I know, I know you hate me. Want nothin' t'do with me. But, please," Chris was almost begging at this point. "Just...just let me make it up t'you...Make it alright…" his voice grows hush as his other hand moves to cup your cheeks, his eyes darting between your watery eyes and your parted lips, before capturing you in a soft kiss. Your lips move slowly against each other, as if they hadn't felt each other in decades. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip, begging for entrance, and you let him, your tongues dancing together elegantly. He grabs your waist and swiftly sits you on top of the counter, moving in between your legs. A soft moan leaves your mouth as he trails sloppy kisses down your neck and collarbones.

“Fuck—get these off—Need ‘em off…” Chris pulls back from the kiss, both of you breathing heavily. His lust-filled eyes peer into yours as his fingers toy with the waistband of your shorts. You nod, and he pulls off both your pajama pants and underwear in one swift motion. He lets out a moan at the sight of you, legs spread open, pussy dripping wet just for him. His hands grip your thighs tight, pulling you to the edge and into another feverish kiss, the pads of his fingers rubbing against your aching clit, earning a needy moan from you. He swipes his digits up and down your soaked heat, collecting your arousal in his middle and ring fingers.

He suddenly pulls back, dropping to his knees with a thud. He holds your legs open with his calloused hands, kissing every inch of your thighs and legs. He looks up at you from the floor, the iris of his eyes completely gone, replaced with his wide, blown out pupils. “C-Chris…” You gasp, watching him suck and nip at your inner thighs as he ignores you, staring hungrily at your pussy. You clench around nothing, begging with your eyes, silently pleading with him as a smirk creeps across his face.

A drawn out moan is ripped from your chest as Chris presses his tongue flat against your drooling cunt, licking a long stripe up to your clit. A trail of his spit and your arousal connects his mouth to you as he moves his head back, barely holding back his own noises as he stares at your glistening pussy. “Taste so good…So fuckin’ sweet,” he groans as he dives back into your cunt. His grip on your thighs is harsh enough to leave bruises, not letting you move away from him for even a second.

The sinful sound of slurping fills the apartment while Chris laps at your pussy, his eyes never leaving your face, contorted in pleasure. He closes his soft lips around your bundle of nerves, humming against it and making your eyes roll back. You rip off his beanie, discarding it on the floor and tugging at his messy hair. Chris moans at the sudden sensation and starts to suck harder at your clit. His hand releases your thigh, pushing two fingers into your tight pussy and curling them just right. 

He closes his soft lips around the tiny bundle of nerves, humming against it and making your eyes roll back. You rip off his beanie, discarding it on the floor and tugging at his messy hair. Chris moans at the feeling, sucking harder at your clit, desperate for you to reach your high. His hand releases your thigh, pushing two fingers into your tight pussy and curling them just right. 

You were seeing stars, your back arching off the countertop as you try to squirm away from him, needy moans and whines leaving your mouth. “Chris, Chris, Chris!” You chant his name, your grip in his hair growing tighter as he slides his digits in and out of your sopping cunt while licking and sucking at your throbbing clit.

“I know, baby, I know,” he whispers, the vibrations of his low voice shooting straight through you. “Feel good, huh? Can feel you fuckin' squeezin’ my fingers.” He lets out a breathy laugh, watching you rest your legs on his shoulders and pulling him deeper into your pussy. 

“S-So good—Fuck!” You throw your head back, legs starting to spasm as the coil in your belly grows tighter with each second. “M’gonna—Shit! Baby, baby—Gonna cum!” You cry out, damn near crushing Chris’ head with your thighs. He only hums, smiling against you while he shoves a third finger deep in your pussy, your orgasm hitting you like a giant wave. Your juices paint Chris’ face and chin, still lapping at you through the pleasure as your face contorts, your body shaking violently.  

Breathing heavily, Chris finally pulls away from you, wiping his glistening lips off with the bottom of his black shirt. He stands back up to look at your twitching figure, laughing softly to himself. “Can’t tap out yet, mama,” he says, picking you up and taking you to your room.

He throws you onto your bed, pulling off his shirt and climbing on top of you, pressing the painful bulge in his jeans against your soaked heat. His hands cup your cheeks and pull you into a harsh kiss while you rush to pull his jeans down. You can still taste your release on his lips, but it only turns you on further. "Lay back, baby. Wanna see that pretty face while I fuck you, ” Chris pushes you down into the mattress and props your legs up, opening them up wide for him. He rips his boxers off, his cock springing out and slapping against his stomach. His tip was red and angry, strings of precum leaking down his length. 

He leans over to you, capturing your swollen lips in another kiss. His chain dangles in your face, the freezing gold brushing against your skin at his proximity. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as he rubs the head of his cock over your slick folds, coating it in your juices. “Gonna make y'feel alright,” he whispers in between sloppy kisses.

Slowly, he nudges his cock over your pussy, gently pushing it inside you. The two of you moan in sync as he moves deeper, feeling each bump and vein, inch by itch. Chris refuses to look away from you, staring into your eyes with longing, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “C’mon baby—fuuck—Keep those pretty eyes on me. Jus' do that for me..." Chris groans as he bottoms out, his eyes never leaving yours. He presses another rough kiss to your lips, one hand on the headboard and the other resting gently on your cheek. The familiar squeaking of the your bed grows louder as his thrusts start to pick up speed.

“Y’still mad at me? Huh?” He coos as he adjusts positions, sitting up on his knees and grabbing at your hips, forcing himself deeper. The new angle sends your eyes back into your skull, and leaves you a stuttering, moaning mess. “Y’still fuckin’ hate me?”

You nod your head despite the pornographic moans leaving your mouth. His pelvis bumping against your clit in a fast rhythm, connected by a thin trail of both your arousals. You try to speak, but all that leaves your mouth is broken moans. “Hate—you—"You manage to choke out through whines, though you both knew you were lying.

Chris laughs, watching your brain go fuzzy as you lose yourself under him, still desperate to hold onto the bit on control you thought you had. “Mmm...that so, baby? That the truth?" With his free hand, he rubs your aching clit with his thumb, sending jolts of pleasure to your head. His words spur you on further, despite the fact that you can feel yourself growing more and more annoyed each time he speaks.

Whining at the added stimulation to your clit, you nod weakly, too fucked out to say anything. You can barely force a small "uh huh," as your body starts to tremble beneath him. His grip on your thighs grows tighter, not letting you move away from him.

Chris's grin grows wider, his movements never slowing. "I don't believe that...for a fuckin' second. Not when I got you goin' stupid on m'dick like this. Can't even get fuckin' words out—hah—shiit..." His words get cut off by his own groans. He throws his head back as his jaw goes slack. "Guess I just gotta fuck it out of you," high pitched moans leave your mouth as his thrusts grow rougher, somehow hitting that spongy spot deep inside you every time. Your tits bounce harshly, in sync with Chris' every movement.

"Missed y’so fuckin’ much—” His movements stagger, already growing close to release at the sight of you under him. Your velvety walls throb around his cock, making him throw his head back. “Couldn’t stop thinkin’ bout this perfect fuckin’ pussy…Squeezin’ me—mmm—so fuckin’ tight…Wanna fill her up so bad,” his other hand cups your face, kissing your lips gently, a contrast from harsh pace of his thrusts.

Your eyes start to roll back and your body starts to tremble. Chris' movements start to stagger, each thrust growing ragged as his moans grow louder. "You gonna let me baby?" He coos, holding your hips in a death grip. "Gonna let me fill this pretty pussy up? Make you all mine jus' like you wanted?"

"Yes, yes, please, baby..." You nod weakly as your brain starts to go fuzzy, your orgasm quickly approaching.

Chris grins at your words, his breath growing labored as he pumps into you, his thrusts slow and passionate, desperate for you to reach your high. His thumb circles your clit, drawing a ragged moan from your chest as the coil building in your stomach suddenly snaps. Your back arches high off the bed, your legs shaking violently.

"Fuuuck baby, ohmygod..." Feeling your tight walls pulse around his cock sends Chris over the edge, groaning as spurts of cum shoot out of his cock into your cunt, coating your walls in white. "So fuckin' good...needed this...so much..." He moans, his thrusts slowing down, still pumping his seed as deep as it can go. He leans forward and kisses you sloppily, pulling your body close to his.

Chris brushes the hair out of your face, his eyes half-lidded with a smile stretched against his face. He rolls over to the side, his arms never releasing you from his grip. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, taking in your scent and sighing. "M'sorry baby...For everything..." his voice is muffled, but you hear every word.

His heartbeat thumps soothingly in your ears, causing your eyes to flutter shut, comforted by the feeling of his skin on yours, his body wrapped around you. You let out a content sigh as you smile against his chest and nod slowly.

"I know."

fic long asf, this a @muwapsturniolo special <3

[en-lov3r]

Sister's Boyfriend | Jaeyun Sim ✮☽⋆‧˚🍷

♱ Sypnosis: You, your older sister, and mom currently reside in a mansion, with dad out in business trips, he's barely here. One day, Your sister went on a girl's trip with her friends, she wanted her new boyfriend to get along with her mom and little sibling, but soon while, things soon start escalating between Jake and his girlfriend's sister... ♱ Pairing: Jake x reader ♱ Genre: Vampire, smut, cheating, abuse, jealousy ♱ Warnings: Sexual assault, possessiveness, blood, choking, sadism, sex, virgin ♱ Word Count: 3,397 words

It's a cold cloudy day in the winter.

It was nearing dusk. Darkness kept creeping in the skies as the sun disappeared into abyss. It was about time to start eating dinner with your family. You crept out of your room and went downstairs from the second floor to join your family. There food was served, your mom prepared a gorgeous feast with crispy macaroni and cheese, with some baked chicken, along with sides of asparagus and a fruit bowl to snack on right after. You and your mom kept chatting along and began to eat as you guys begin to settle down and dig in.

"Hopefully your sister comes from her trip, she would've loved what I made"

"Well she always goes out practically everytime, she can barely even spend time with us so why bother?"

"Sweetie, don't say that, your dad barely being here must've took a toll on her, why not go easy on her?"

"Well don't you care about what I feel? It's unfair about how every single time we always put up with her, its fustrating. "

sighs "You know what, your right, I just wished she would've spend more time with us, but at least we know what's she doing, she'll be back in a week."

"Yeah and then she will leave her bags and go off again with her friends."

-

The conversation stopped for a brief moment. Your mother seemed a bit distressed, considering the fact that her oldest daughter is barely around the mansion. It takes time to process what's going on with your life, but you know that you and your mother have each other to say the least. You and your mother keep continuing to eat, the sounds of utensils clanking with the plates, the scoops for second servings and more, and the wind blowing intensely outside, breezy enough there are branches falling outside.

"I'm done."

"Okay, put your dishes in the sink, I'll take care of everything here, you can go up to your room."

You asked your mom if she really did need any help but she declined. Hesitant, you trudged upstairs to your room and listened to the sounds of your mom scrubbing the dishes, a bit forced and aggressive. You knew she was going through it. As soon as you opened the door in your room, you instantly heard a notification, which was from your sister. Knowing it was your sister, you chose not to reply for a while and focused on doing whatever you needed to do, which was english homework. Though she kept texting you until the sounds kept being bothersome enough that you gave in and opened her messages.

Hey, hope you and mom are doing alright, listen, my boyfriend is going to be there tomorrow to pick up some items from my room to my dorm, mind letting him in, I'll get you something I promise ?

Okay? Is it going to be Jake I'm letting in?

Yeah, I also want you guys to spend time with him too, I texted mom about this a few minutes before and now I'm telling you, I want you guys to have some bonding time, I know I haven't been there the mansion for quite long, but trust me, I've been really busy, he will also be spending time there with you guys for most of the week, try to get to know him, I'll get back to you guys soon, be safe.

Alright take care.

Your sister told you that Jake was going to come. You felt a weird vibe about Jake, something you can't explain, out of all your sister's boyfriends, you find him a bit unusual and peculiar. As far as his looks go, he is quite handsome to be honest, his blonde hair so fluffy you wanted to comb his hair with your hands, his luscious lips so touchable you want to kiss them, his piercings complimenting every outfit of his, he radiates a dark aura, much like a vampire. Personality wise, you find him very socially awkward, he always makes no eye contact and stares directly at the floor whenever your sister always takes him with her to drop some things off. Meeting him for the first time was clumsy, he almost tripped over his shoelace, which made him fell on the floor. When he introduced himself, that was the only time you met face to face with him, he looked so gorgeous, it felt like you wanted to kiss him, his eyes kind of dilated when you saw him, you shuddered in the inside as that one day he kept staring at you. He looked to be visibly uncomfortable as he wanted to run away, but as soon as mother and sister sat in the living room, he eyed your every move, while they were talking, he directly stared at you, in such a frightening manner too, you wanted to leave, even saw him lick the corner of his mouth, lips dry, it was kind of predatory, as if he wanted something from you.

The whole thought makes you all ruffled as you could never keep your composure when you see him. But you know you have too and your sister wants you to bond with him and your mother. You soon finished doing your homework. You got up and rushed to the bathroom, where you needed to pee so bad. As soon as you took care of your business, you went to floss and brush your teeth, and washed your face.

Going to bed thinking about Jake makes you flustered, you couldn't tell whether you like that guy or not, but for this whole week, you'll see.

doorbell rings

You wake up to hear the doorbell ringing. It was currently 6:00 am. You peeked out your window to take a close look, and there he was, Jake. Part of you panicked at the fact that he was here early because you knew your sister expected you to lead him the way. You didn't have time to do your morning routine so you instantly rushed down the floor, footsteps scurrying, even before your mother can open the front door.

"Hey, why don't you fix yourself, you look a bit groggy, I'll open the door for Jake."

"It's fine I can do it"

"Honey, c'mon, you got to look presentable, he's your sister's boyfriend, you know how well looking he is? Look how I dressed."

Your mother wearing a sunflower dress was sure pretty. You figured to listen to your mother's advice and scurried upstairs, to at least dress casual but put something more better looking, like a black cardigan with black shorts.

"Heyyyy! Jake will be in the living room by the way, I'll be busy cooking breakfast for us, in the meantime come chat with him and show him your sister's room."

You heard your mom and you hollered back from upstairs in your room.

"Okayyy!"

After you were done, you shut down my door, across was your sisters, your heart kept beating fast it might even be tachycardia at this point. All led to this moment of trying to get to know your sister's boyfriend and today was the day. You were skeptical of how the day will go and you kept overthinking how you would approach him, but you got the courage and went down the stairs cautiously.

He saw you from upstairs, he smiled a bit, glinted his pearly teeth, he had such a gummy smile, kind of made you flustered knowing the fact that he wasn't acting like this on the days your sister brang him. You found him cute, he wore a black lucrative suit, all polished, and as soon as you reached the floor, he stood up, his stature so tall and shoulders so broad you find him a bit intimidating, but the way he stood up and walked towards you made your heart flutter, you stared at him with intent, kind of flirtatious, he kind of noticed and his expression kind of looked sexual, licking his lips while he shooked your hand, it felt so big when you touched his cold fingers, you wanted to feel for them again, everything about him looked so sensual you just knew you were lucky to see him again, well again too for this whole week.

"Hey! I'm here to pick your sister's items" he smiled

You seemed so shy. Everything about him looked hot. He looked so good you just wanted to be fucked by him. You kept envisioning his long slick fingers, making your hole wet, the idea made you so horny you were willing to take any chances in order to do so. The thought of his voice too seemed a bit deep and exaggerated. Just the soft hint of his voice was enough to get you down bad for him. You tried to stop having these sexual thoughts about him.

"Y-Yeah, I can show you. Mother, I'm going to show him sister's room"

"Okay, food will take a while guys okay?"

Jake nodded and you did as well. You let Jake go first but he insisted on having you go instead, every step you took you just felt eyes behind your back, you knew he was watching you, you kind of loved the attention, knowing the fact that he's your sister's boyfriend made you feel kind of giddy in the inside. You knew what you were getting yourself into.

You opened your sister's room, and there was a box full of her items she previously laid for her boyfriend to take. You gestured to Jake to take them and he complied, you saw his fluffy hair waft from one side to to the other.

"Thank you lol hehe. I'll place them at the bottom of the floor."

"Yeah, also my sister said to take her underwear and bra too, it's over there by that pink cabinet, I'll leave you here for now until we call you for breakfast."

"Alright, thank you so much, you were really helpful, for real."

You closed the door as you waved bye at him and you saw him smile as you shut down the door. You wished it was your bra and panties that he will take, wanting him to fill his broad nose with the aroma of your undergarments, wishing he can dirty them with his smelly funky semen of his, you wish this fantasy was so true with him. You wished he will do things to you.

You forgot to mention which drawer in your sister's pink cabinet she keeps her undergarments in. You were going to remind him.

As soon as you opened the door, you uncovered, a naked sight of Jake- his detailed abs shown in full glory, he was letting out a weak hoarse moan, but you saw his fangs, biting his other arm, dripping of blood onto the floor, while his eyes were closed, you also focused the attention on his arm stroking his hung cock, with your sister's lacy lingerie panties covering the shaft of his dick, the motion was enough to be instilled in your head, your lips drooled a bit, but there was too much to process, he was a vampire. You were still shocked. After he took a long breathless pause, he saw, you, you were beyond belief, you were scared because his expression changed, he looked more ungodly and wicked, as if he was going to do atrocious and inappropriate things to you. You were about to gasp because his eyes went wide opened, you quickly turned to run but he grabbed you by the arm forcefully. "MO-" He grabbed you by the back , back hugging you and you felt his long dick slid up the outline of your shorts of your ass. You felt it through, your ass tightened as it was sheathing around his dick. You wanted to get out. He quickly put his other hand on your mouth, shutting you up. You were fighting with all your force, trying to be released by the grasp of his arms but he was too powerful.

"Haha, hey listen, you better not tell anyone what you saw okay?" he whispered aggressively

"I knew how much you kept eyeing me when I became your sister's boyfriend, you looked real tasty to begin with, I can tell your a virgin. It would be so hot to fuck my girlfriend's sibling, huh? How about this sweetie, I won't tell your sister about you liking me, unless, you would let me fuck you? for this week she's gone that is."

You were mortified, knowing this was what you would get into. Just the thought of him fucking you was your dream. But him being a vampire was your worst nightmare. You never considered that he would be one. But just the thought made you really horny. You could have him all for myself this week, no one, especially your sister, to stop you. He saw your head from the back as you nodded nonchalantly. You gave in. Gave yourself all to him. Because you wanted him.

"We are going to have fun!" he snickered

-

"Hey! breakfast is ready guys, what's taking you guys so long?"

You hesitated to say something to your mother, but Jake took initiative

"She's just helping me pack some stuff your daughter mentioned, we'll be back in 30 minutes"

"Alright but be quick!"

You were shocked that he said something but when you turned back you saw his smile, looking upon you, he looked real greedy, as if he wanted to wreck you apart meticulously, he shamelessly shoved his cock between your thighs, swaying his hips back and forth, you moaned a bit, he wanted to fuck you hard today. "Oh baby, your shorts are rubbing my cock fuckk" His cock was getting so hard it's hurting, the way he's rubbing, it kept pulsing, the veins already showing, as his dick was becoming bigger and bigger every second. You loved every minute of it, you wrap your hands around the shaft of his cock as he kept doing that repeated motion, you turned your neck and looked at him in a suggestive manner, mouthing "fuck me" as you couldn't wait for that big cock to impregnate you.

"You are so fucking hot, we should've done this sooner"

pants "Baby you are doing more better than what your sister could've ever done for me, you make me real horny"

"Let's to my room ♡"

You guys were still in the same position. Tip toeing to the room as you shut the door and locked the doorknob. You guys instantly start making out, his lips touching yours as you guys kept slurping on like dogs trying to drink water. You tasted part of his blood. It tasted rich. He started to explore every part of your face, licking you, kissing lightly, spitting at you then slurping it back up, you were so fucking hard

He then trudged and sat on your chair, getting real horny, his dick was super hard it kept starting at you, he spreaded his legs, his thick thighs as he forcefully grabbed you, you loved it when his arms touched your delicate neck, hoping it would create a bruise, he took your head and started to engulf his cock with your mouth, your mouth kept slopping at the base of his crotch, as he used you as a fleshlight, making your head go up and down, he was deepthroating you

"F- Fuck baby" he gasps as your head kept pressing the tip of his shaft

"Mmmm it's so fucking good Jake"

"You want more?"

"Mhm, pls give me more, I'm yours"

"Just what I like to hear." he chuckled

He grabbed your head and put his naked legs around it, taking it to the fullest extent as he enjoyed his cock being slobbered up by his girlfriend's sister. "Oh fuck yes! It feels so good~" Tears started forming around your eyes as they dripped down, Jake started to roll his eyes back, licking his lips while looking down at you, his thighs clenched even more in response that your head became red

"I- fuck!"

He couldn't take it anymore as he was about to reach climax. He was about to cum. But he soon came to a halt as he put a stop to me sucking his juicy cock and he took my head out, saliva spat out my mouth as it flickered into the air between me and him. You just smiled at him as you kept breathing, your whole body desparate for his touch

He grabbed you by the neck, choking you, you loved every second of it, his hand as he was looking at you with a hard gaze, so hard it was making you feel wet down there, your clit started to twitch, you began to feel a tingling sensation within your whole body, your tongue sticking out like a dog in heat begging to be fucked, his cock was already lubricated enough

You were facing in a doggy style like manner, he took a glimspe of your ass and teared down your shorts, hearing the fabric ripping out, you knew it was time to not be a virgin anymore. Your ass is so tight that it kept twitching at the sight of him staring at it. Jake was a dog in heat as his tongue kept salivating, ready to explore into your ass as he dived his tongue perfectly into it. "OHh!" You knew it was so good, he kept moving his tongue to places that make you feel good, flickering it, it was so provocative, seeing him like you like this felt so immoral to your sister, but you didn't care, you had him all yourself

"Sh- shittt!" His fingers entered your ass, it gripped as your ass tightened around them, getting so tensed he could barely pull it back. He kept doing this often until your hole loosened up. You were ready.

He got up and slid his cock just straight into your pretty pink hole. You went a bit cross-eyed. "Mhmmm FUckk me!" You barely thinked straight. Jake was fucking such a tight hole. He let out a shaky breath before he suddenly saw the nape of your neck. He thought about it as he pierced his fangs straight onto it. You scream " FUCK!" but soon realized that your mother probably heard it. Jake kept sucking your blood, you knew he was probably hungry from the start, he kept devouring your blood, making you feel all faintish, Jake had a thing for creating marks, now especially for his girlfriend's little sister. He liked showing that you were his now

"I'm sorry baby" he murmured "you-" pounds "make-" pounds "feel-!" pounds "this type of-" pounds "way..." exhales

He sounded so exhausted fucking you endlessly, but he didn't seem tired, his body still seems very active. You wanted him to savor you every last bit and moment.

"Abuse me like the slut I am Jake"

"As you say so my miss"

He turned into a monster. You laughed so softly, giggling, enjoying all to the extent, he took it deep and slow before he started breaking you apart. "Oh fuck your hole is better than your sisters goddamn!" I knew it was. His body started trembling as his legs almost gave up, you started to sob but Jake started to furrow his brows, his mouth open, focusing on getting that cock in, he was starting to lose himself. He got his foot and put it up against your face. You enjoyed it, the whiff of the smell of his feet made you feel very joyous, you wanted to lick it straight after "Oh fuck!" He got his cock out before he almost came.

"Guys? Where are you?"

My mother started to check upon us and we soon realized. The food was going to get cold. We quickly put on our clothes, I just wore back my hoodie to cover the mark he gave me at my neck and my mother tried opening the door.

"Sweetie? Why is this locked?"

I quickly came up with an excuse.

"Oh I was just resting here"

"Okay, where is Jake?"

"I figured he was carrying the box to his car no?

"Oh, I must check on him then."

As soon as you guys put on your clothes, You stared at Jake, giggling, you kissed him, he kissed back, you guys both kissed each other real hard before stopping yourselves, You saw his bulge become even bigger, he's still horny.

You quickly went down the stairs and took a seat. You saw all the food prepared, fried eggs, bacon, yogurt topped with granola, waffles, and much more. Jake looked real satisfied looking at it and both you guys waited for your mom to come by the dining table. She asked Jake where he was after trying to find him and he said he used the bathroom right after. We all sat down and chatted while I hear Jake and my mother chatting with each other."

"So my daughter, how is she doing in college?"

"She is great, I-" moans

You put your foot on his crotch, you were both facing each other, You started to play around with him, shoving your foot slowly around his groin, making sure he enjoyed it. Your feet were kind of sweaty so he probably felt his crotch a bit moist. He stared back at you, as if he is trying to not do this at this moment, but you were trying to fuck, Jake was getting hard from this situation, he was feeling all sexy and aroused, his outfit becoming ruined along for today, Jake then gave in and silently pleaded in request for you to touch him, he was horny real bad

"Oops, I dropped my fork!"

"Honey, go pick that up, I'll be getting you guys more servings, hold on Jake"

For what he gets, you started teasing Jake, he could barely hold it "Mm" Jake refuses to admit he's sorry but succumbs after being edged for so many times. You picked up the fork and then placed my hands on his lap, he started opening his zipper of his crotch, revealing it all to you, you saw him staring, hesitant, his lip biting, You then grabbed his schlong, from his underwear, he winced as he let out a slight moan, you sucked him one more time, deep and slow, tongue curling around his rod like he deserved this treat

Your hips started to push back more, as your hole clenched hard, you didn't even try to hide it, sucking so hard you were never letting go

"Ohhh, fuckkk" he groaned

You began to deepthroat, gripping it hard, he started mouth fucking you, with his crotch slapping the face of your skin, you felt your brain being fucked, you tried not to cry, as you tried not to gag on his hard cock, he couldn't take it anymore "H- Here it comes baby!" it exploded into hot squirts of cum, swallowing it all, it went down your esophagus and to your stomach, his cum reached from your mouth all the way down your neck and into your thighs, you swallowed everything, feeding it into all until his cock turned dry, you pulled back as you almost blacked out, he wiped the cum residue off your mouth and licked it with his tongue, smirking

"Did you like that?"

"Fuck baby, yes I did, very much did."

"Wanna try cumming inside of me this week, not my ass but in my pussy?"

giggles "We have all weekend.♡ "

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Summer Breeze 1

Was gonna be a drabble roulette. Fuck me, I can't do this right, can I?

Warnings: age gap (reader is 22, Andrew is mid 40s), dad's friend, Andy being Andrew, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

You push yourself up from the air mattress, feeling the floor through the deflating cushion. You grumble and yawn as you rub your eyes. You stand up, the loose tank clinging to your stomach as you tug the hem of your shorts from the crease of your thigh. 

You don’t lament your accommodation. You know you’re a last-minute addition to the trip. The place is a bit crowded and you’re just happy to not be laid out in the dirt. Still a free vacation is a free vacation. You won’t complain for it. 

You stretch and pad to the door, careful not to disturb the bodies sleeping in the dual bunk beds. You’ve never been to a cottage before. This place is nicer than your house. Even if it’s a bit cramped. 

Your dad always complained about the mortgage and now you know why. He’s struggling to make his monthly payments and keep you in school, meanwhile the neighbour has a whole second house by a lake. You feel worse for your meagre contributions. Your part-time job won’t get your dad his own beach house. 

As you get to the door, you jump at the loud snort the cuts the air. Jacob rolls over and throws his arm over his face. He’s been at it all night. Him and his friends who crowd onto the single mattresses.

You get along but you’re not exactly a part of his usual gang. It was your dad’s idea to come up. You know he forgot it was his turn to have you for the summer. The awkward getaway is better than dealing with another of your mother’s boyfriends. 

Your weight creaks in the floor as you come down the hall and you stop short at the unexpected figure stood before the open windows. You hug yourself as wind blows in from over the water. You stare at Mr. Barber’s broad shoulders as he stands shirtless as he stares out at the morning landscape. 

You should go back. You’re always the first one awake at the sleepover. You lean back on your heel and the floor whines loud enough to give you away. You cringe. 

“Burton--” Mr. Barber grits as he glances over his shoulder, cutting himself short as he sees you. He turns to face you completely and coughs, “sorry, I thought you were your father.” 

“Um, no, sorry Mr. Barber, I was just... awake,” you utter dumbly. 

“Andy,” he corrects you. 

“Right, Andy,” you echo nervously, “I’ll just--” you point with your thumb over your shoulder. 

“It’s fine, I... I--” he stops and looks down at himself. He wears only a pair of shorts, “shoot, I--” he clears his throat and searches around, pulling on the button up hung over one of the dining chairs, “got a bit hot.” 

You notice the couch is all made up; crumpled blankets and a wrinkled pillow.  

“Your dad’s in my room. He had a bit too much fun with the beer,” he sniffs.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you rub your neck. That’s not unusual. 

“You drink coffee?” He asks as he comes forward, “you college girls still have caffeine without all that whip and syrup?” 

You frown at the insinuation. He’s one of those; ‘in my day’, though you sense a flavour of misogyny too. You shrug. 

“I don’t drink coffee,” you answer as he nears, “I’ll have some water and lemon, if you have it.” 

“Lemon water,” he grumbles as he brushes closely, “you on a diet?” 

You squint and let out a scoff, “no.” 

He’s quiet as he looks in the fridge and takes out a large pitcher. His cheek ticks as he thinks, “not that you need to be on one... sorry.” He pours you a glass and slides it to the end of the counter, “no lemons.” 

“That’s fine,” you accept the glass. 

“Well, I was gonna say,” he scratches his beard as he backs up, his shirt still open, revealing his furry chest, “coffee always tastes better out on the dock but... you don’t drink coffee.” 

“Mm,” you hum, “well, thanks for the water. If you don’t mind, I might go out anyway.” 

He nods as he turns, popping open a cupboard to search out the canister of coffee. You linger, waiting for any response. He peels the lid off the container and glances over. His blue eyes makes you shiver. You don't know him very well, he only just moved in your first year of college. Your dad likes him but your his friends never want much to do with you. 

“I’m sorry if I’m bothering--” you begin. 

“Don’t mind,” he answers, “the company, that is.” He turns back to fill the machine and lets out a sigh, “not used to a full house anymore and I don’t think your dad will be up soon enough to share the pot.” He loads the filter and closes the lid on the percolator, “or the others...” 

“Probably not,” you agree. 

He peeks over again as he fills the carafe. You’re suddenly very aware of your own attire, or lack thereof. The loose tank, the floral shorts with the untied drawstring. You sip from the glass and give a sheepish smile. 

“Anyway, I need some fresh air,” you inch away as tap your fingertips on the side of the glass, “maybe I’ll see a few loons before they fly off.” 

His brows rise and fall and he turns his focus back to the sink. He shuts off the water and turns to the machine. You leave him, eager to be away from the tension of your unexpected encounter. On second hand, this is just as awkward as dealing with one of your mother’s random hookups. 

[count-on-mi]

Twice Interactive Story Part 19 Moonlight Sunrise(Jihyo, Feat. Dahyun)

Today is just a normal day, you go to work and give breakfast to Mina as usual.

After the work, you back home to have dinner with Dahyun and Jihyo before you go jogging.

'Y/N, why suddenly want to go jogging with me?' Jihyo asks you when you are walking to the park.

"It’s been a while, I thought it would be nice." I respond. " Or would you rather be doing something else?"

'It's been a long time, really. I haven't left your home since I moved in. I don't have the courage to leave your home, I am afraid Daniel will find where I am.' Jihyo sighs. 'If you not asking me to jog today, I don't know when I will step out of your home.'

"I'll be by your side if you ever want to go out Jihyo. That way you can still do all the things you want." As I finish stretching I ask if she's ready to start.

'Thanks, Y/N, I would love to, but... but you have your life too, I can't only go out when I am with you, I don't want to bother you.' Jihyo nods and start jogging with you.

'I remember you have talked about your friend with benefit, Momo, right? Is she working with Daniel?  Maybe we can get some update from her.'

"Yeah, I could always ask Momo for updates. But Jihyo, I really don't mind going out with you. I want you to be able to live your life, so anytime you want to do something just ask me and I'll go with you." I think for a second. "How about you and me go out to eat tomorrow or the day after."

'So, you are asking me on a date huh, Y/N?' Jihyo smirks. 'But how about Dahyun, we leave her at home alone?  Won't she suspect anything?'

"If you want to think of it as a date, you're more than welcome to. Dahyun won't suspect a thing she knows your situation, she'll understand." I respond.

'Thank you, Y/N. Maybe we should go out together on the weekend then, then I can spend longer time with you.'

'You know if you keep treating me this good, I will fall for you?' Jihyo rests herself on a bench and inviting you to sit with her.

I take a seat beside her, "I don't think I'm treating you all too well, just as a person. I'll be busy Saturday so we'll have to go out Sunday. is there any place you want to go in particular?"

'No idea yet, maybe just some casual walk in the town.' Jihyo rests her head on your shoulders. 'At least you are treating me like a human, right? Providing shelter for me, willing to listen to me.'

"Of course, if you ever need anything just tell me Jihyo." I take a deep breqth and look up to the sky. "A walk around town does sound kind of nice. It'll be fun for sure. Hey Jihyo, do you want to jog some more or should we head home?"

'I think I should leave some stamina for tonight, what do you think, Y/N?' Jihyo sits closer to you, and get up suddenly. 'Oh, sorry for making my sweat on you, I forgot it.'

"Well we'll be sweating on each other a lot tonight Jihyo, so I don't mind." I pull her down onto my lap and whisper into her ear, "I hope you're not too tired"

'Don't underestimate me, Y/N!' Jihyo smirks and starts grinding on your lap, soon your cock has become a bulge.

'Can't you just wait for a little bit longer? We just separated for one night. Or do you want me to finish you up here first?' Jihyo blows wind into your ear and keeps grinding you.

"Let's go home, I want to be the only one looking at you."

'Let's go then, let's back home, our home.' Jihyo smiles and kissed your cheek before she gets up from you.

'Do you sure you can wait until Dahyun sleep, or you wanna fuck me from the moment the door is opened.'

"We should wait until she's asleep, just know that you're in for a long night." I grab Jihyo's ass and give it a light spank. "We'll be doing it for a while."

Jihyo grabs your arm when you two walking back to home. 'If you can get Dahyun on bed earlier, we will have more time tonight. Perhaps you may join my bath too.'

When you two arrive, Dahyun is watching TV on the sofa, Jihyo excused herself for bathing, leaving you and Dahyun at the living room.

I ask Dahyun what she's watching and make conversations make with her.

'Just some comedy Oppa, will you watch with me?' Dahyun pats the sofa, and asks you to sit with her.

Once you sit down, she peeks to make sure Jihyo is still in the bathroom, then she cuddles with you.

I put my arm around her Dahyun and pat her head while the film plays. I look over occasionally to see if she's getting sleepy.

Dahyun seems to be more excited when cuddling with you, seems she is still far from sleepy. Only when Jihyo comes out of bathroom, Dahyun starts to move a little bit away from you.

'I'm finished, Y/N, it's your turn now.' Jihyo winks at you before she enter her room.

''Let's continue after you finish shower, Oppa.' Dahyun looks at you expectedly.

"Right, I'm going to be a while though. I worked up a sweat today." I then go to the bathroom and start to shower, taking my time inside and coming out about 30 minutes later.

When you finished your shower, Dahyun is still waiting for you, she is chatting with Chaeyoung on a phone call.

Dahyun waves hands at you, 'Oppa, I am talking with Chaeyoung, anything you want to say?'

"Just tell her I said Hi and ask when she's coming." I respond. "I'm going to make something to eat do you want anything Dahyun?"

'Chaeyoung said she would be coming at the weekend.' Dahyun comes into the kitchen and hugs you from the back. 'I want some pancake, Oppa. Do you need some help?'

"Just get the ingredients for me, I'm going to ask Jihyo if she wants anything." I leave Dahyun and walk to Jihyo's room. I turn the door knob and poke my head in asking if she wants anything to eat and that Dahyun isn't going to sleep anytime soon.

'Thanks, Y/N, but I am not hungry, don't wanna waste the effort on jogging.' Jihyo is laying on her bed and playing with her phone. 'Anything you want me to wear tonight? I will get changed when you are playing with Dahyun.'

"I don't want you to wear anything Jihyo, it would only get ruined." I say with a smile before going back to cook with Dahyun.

You get back to Kitchen and see Dahyun has prepared all the ingredients for you. 'Does Jihyo eooni need anything?' Dahyun says while helping you to wear the apron.

"No, she's fine. Let's just cooking Dubu." I have her help me cook that way we can finish faster.

You quickly cook some pancakes and ready to eat with Dahyun, she tastes a piece of it, 'Oppa, do u remember when we cooked together for Chaeyoung in the past? I miss those good old days.'

Dahyun seems to be sentimental tonight, and keep talking about the moments you two shared before. You looked at the clock, it's already midnight, if you wanna get some sleep after sex with Jihyo, you may need to get Dahyun to bed now.

"Yeah, I remember those days. Simpler days." After finishing the food quickly I say "It's getting to be pretty late Dahyun. We should go to sleep. You get to bed I'll clean up"

'OH, sorry Oppa, I forgot you need to work tomorrow, let me clean the dishes.' Dahyun says while pushing you to the bathroom. 'Remember to brush your teeth.'

When you come out of the bathroom, Dahyun has backed her room, instead, Jihyo is in the living room, only with another new set of sexy lingerie.

"I tried Jihyo. Is Dahyun sleeping?"

'Of course, otherwise how dare I only wearing lingerie here.' Jihyo stands up and walks towards you.

Her tits are bouncing following her every step, your eyes were attached to her breasts, and you swallowing your saliva when you look at her.

'Sorry for making you wait too long.' Jihyo caresses your neck to your chest.

My hands run down her back to her thighs. I lift Jihyo up and carry her to my room, "I'll make up for the wait Jihyo."

You throw Jihyo on the bed and lock the door. Jihyo adjust herself in a seductive position, 'Come Y/N, make the night worth. Let's see can you still go to work tomorrow.'

"I hope you can walk tomorrow Jihyo" I retort. I start kissing her neck, moving my way down while my hand goes toward her pussy.

Jihyo presses you harder and moans slightly as your caress, her hand goes down and starts stroking you. 'Oh, getting excited don't you?'

"Obviously," I kiss Jihyo and play with her tits with one hand while the other starts to finger her.

Jihyo is turned on by your kissing, you two exchange saliva and increase the pace of your hand.

'Ummm...' Jihyo comes first and moans in your mouth, she breaks the kiss and flips over. Her mouth is now in front of your cock. 'Ready, Y/N? It's going to be a sleepless night.'

I don't say a word instead I start to eat her out immediately.

'Ah, you horny boy!' Jihyo moans when you assault, and she returns by licking your cock. Jihyo licks it like a ice cream, cherishing every inch of it, wanting to it to melt in her mouth.

'I am thirsty, baby.' Jihyo sees the precum leaking from your tip, so she backs to your tip and starts tasting it. You want her to take it in, but she is just teasing you, her tongue dancing on your tip, your moan in her pussy makes Jihyo shivers. 'Yes, Y/N, just like this...'

I keep eating her out and start to finger her. I start thrusting my hip, wanting Jihyo to do more.

'Ah... yes... I know you want it in my mouth, but not now.' Jihyo knows what you want but she just keeps her moves. You finger her faster, wanting her to surrender.

'Ahh, so nice... But I can finish you off before I putting it in... Ahhh...' Jihyo stops her mouth and just use her hands to stroke you, you are frustrated so you thrust your hips faster, hoping to get more pleasure.

Suddenly you feel something warm running on your balls, it's Jihyo's tongue, she is now licking your balls, this sudden pleasure makes you wanna cum. 'Fuck... Jihyo!'

I hold on as continue licking her clit while fingering her. My other hand starts teasing her asshole going around the edge.

'Shit, not there Y/N, Ahhh..' You feel Jihyo's ass is sucking your finger in and her ass become tighter, soon you feel her cum again but she didn't stops her stroke and continues to milk you.

You two both continue your work, and help each other to extend their orgasm. Jihyo only stops when she feels she has drained you. Jihyo turns back to face you, you can see her face is covered by your cum, 'Such a nice shot isn’t, Y/N?'

"You look great Jihyo. Let's continue." I position myself behind her and rub my cock against her lips to tease Jihyo. "Tell me how much you want it, Jihyo."

'You will know how much I want when you put it in, my pussy is ready for you.' Jihyo starts to breathe heavier due to your tease, she grabs your hands to cup her breast. 'Or what kinks you would like me to do, Y/N.'

I slam my cock into Jihyo. "I don't care about that right now Jihyo. I just want you." I start thrusting while playing with her breasts.

'OH yes, just like this, I love your cock so much... Ahh...' Jihyo moans instantly after you put it in, her pussy is fully prepared for you as she just said, so wet from the teasing, you can easily thrust all in with the help of lubrication.

Jihyo bends down her body and kneels on the bed, allowing you to fuck her at a better angle. 'Y/N, do you like to fuck me? Huh?'

I lean my body against hers, whispering into her ear "I love fucking you Jihyo. I love your body, it's all for me isn't it Jihyo?" I grab her tits and knead them waiting for her response as I continue thrusting.

'Ah, yesss... Only you can fuck me... not even my husband, that bustard can't even hold on for 30 seconds... You teach me about the pleasure of sex, Y/N.' Jihyo's body bends lower as you thrust harder.

'All the men Staring at my tits on the street, but only you can get them in hands, only you can fuck me. Ah... Faster, Y/N!'

I thrust quicker giving Jihyo quick and hard thrusts. "That’s right you're all mine Jihyo. I'll make sure you get to feel all the pleasure you could ever want." I begin pinching her nipples and pulling them slightly.

'Ahhhhhhh... Y/N!' Jihyo's pussy becomes much tighter and it's harder for you to thrust in, Jihyo is on the edge of reaching her orgasm. 'Please let me cum, Y/N! Faster, please!'

Jihyo could not resists anymore, she even bury her head in the sheets, just want to raise her ass higher for you.

I go even faster and start spanking Jihyo "Cum for me Jihyo!" I moan I drive her further into the bed with every thrust.

'Ohh! Ohh!' Jihyo moans like she is crying when she reaches her orgasm, her pussy wrapping you tightly and massaging your cock, the suction in her pussy makes you wanna cum. 'I'm cumming, Jihyo. Take it for me!'

Feeling your cock pulsing in her, Jihyo starts to move again. 'I'm not safe today, pull out Y/N!' But it's too late, the pleasure has taken over your mind and you are going to cum.

I impale Jihyo with my cock and fill her to the brim with my cum. I only pull out afterwards and apologize to Jihyo.

You rest on her and let her pussy milk you, until your orgasm is over. You slowly pull out and help her to lay on the bed. The mixture of the juice are dripping down from her pussy, it makes you hard again.

You hug Jihyo in your arms and kiss her forehead, 'Sorry, Jihyo, your pussy is feeling so good that I cannot resist.' 'Your cum feels so good in me too... Is it too risky so you cum that much in me.' Jihyo get some juice from pussy and start licking it.

'Do you have any condoms? Or you will pull out for the next round? I can feel it you are ready.' Jihyo slowly stroking you again.

"I'll get a condom" I'll put on a condom and get then ready myself for another round.

'Can't resist to cum in me huh? Even in a plastic bag?' Jihyo smirks can help you to put on the condom.

'I'll take the lead for this round for your punishment, ok?' Jihyo rides on you and aligns your cock with her pussy, waiting for your answer.

"That's fine with me," I start playing with her tits while she rides me.

Jihyo does not hesitate and directly sits on you, until you reach her deepest part. 'Oh, Y/N. so deep... You reach my womb... Your sperm is going inside.'

Jihyo rides you furiously and is not willing to stop, she moans louder whenever you play her nipples. ''Suck my tits, Y/N, show me your love to my big breast huh.'

I play with one of her nipples while sucking on the other. I switch every so often making sure to give them both proper attention.

'OH, so fair aren't you Y/N?' Jihyo laughs at your move and grinds you much faster, you moan due to the increasing pleasure.

'Cum if you want, you have condom now, no worry.' Jihyo says while hold your head to her chest, forcing you to suck it.

"I know," I start thrusting my hips up to meet Jihyo's descent. I lightly bite her nipples "you can cum anytime too you know."

'Ah... Kiss me Y/N, I am cumming.' Jihyo moans when you bite her, and she holds your head to kiss you.

You can feel her juice splash all over your cock, but maybe as you are using condom, you are not as sensitive as usual, you are still far from orgasm.

'You are so strong, Y/N. I feel so good, are you going to cum?'

"Not yet Jihyo, let me take it from here." I roll us over and continue thrusting.

'Ahh... yes! Y/N, I'm all yours, just do what you want.' Jihyo thrust her hips to suit your rhythm, want to let you cum too.

You lick her tits and thrust harder, chasing your orgasm. Jihyo crosses her legs on your back and tenses her pussy, increasing the friction of your thrusting. 'Oh, yes... Y/N, if you can't cum, ah... Remove the condom, just remember to pull out.'

I kiss Jihyo, "I don't want to pull out, I'll keep the condom on" I tell her while I go faster. I plant kisses on Jihyo's tits before kissing her.

Jihyo grabs your hair to kiss you, she is approaching another wave of orgasm, her walls pressing your cock, legs pushing your back, forcing you to go deeper. You finally feels you are going to cum.

Jihyo feels it too, 'Yes, I know you wanna cum for a long time, now give it to me.' Then Jihyo starts kisses you again.

I continue thrusting into Jihyo, I kiss her while my hands run down her body to her waist. I hold her in place while I ram my cock into her womb.

'Ah....' You cum in Jihyo when you reach the entrance of her womb. Her pussy press you tightly, make sure to milk you. You just lay on her body to get some rest.

Jihyo pushes you away after you have recovered, she slowly removes the condom and play with the cum inside, 'Still a lot in the second round.' Jihyo starts cleaning your shaft, 'I wish it was in my body rather than the plastic bag, it feels so much better when it's in me. Sorry I ruin the night.' Jihyo gently kisses your tip.

"I still had lots of fun Jihyo. We should throw that away somewhere Dahyun won't find it. If she does she'll suspect something."

'Isn't the rubbish bin of your room already a safe place, I don't think she will come in. But why don't we enjoy the moment first.' Jihyo start swallowing your whole dick.

'I know you can still go further, right? You wanna fuck my tits or pussy again?'

"I want to cum inside you but I don't want to wear another condom. How about we try your juicy ass?"

'Then just cum in my pussy, you already try one time tonight, sorry I panicked for the moment, it is meaningless for you to use the condom afterward.'

Jihyo starts licking your shaft again. 'Just cum as much as you can in my womb, maybe we can get Daniel to raise our kids right?'

I laugh a little hearing that "I'll fill you up Jihyo, but I'll take responsibility for my actions" I say as I pounce on her, putting us in the missionary position.

'Always turned on by having a baby with me huh?' Jihyo smirks and waits for your to thrust in.

'If I am pregnant, I won't divorce Daniel, I don't wanna affect your future by just the pleasure you are chasing now. I will let Daniel raise him but he will only call you dad. Now fill me first, Y/N.' Jihyo kisses your lips and thrusts her hips.

I bury my cock inside Jihyo and thrust wildly. My hands grips her thighs, squeezing them roughly as I pound away at her.

Jihyo plays with her tits while you are focusing on the thrusting. 'Oh, Y/N, you never make me disappointed.'

Jihyo moans louder as you thrust in, you don't know will Dahyun hear it, so you kiss her and prevent her to make more noise. 'No... Let me moan, I moan louder because you make me feel so good.' Jihyo breaks the kiss.

"Sorry but we have to be quiet" I kiss her again as I pound her body.

Jihyo stop to resist and make out with you. She grabs your ass and pushes you to thrust faster. Jihyo's pussy well wrapping you again, you feel both of you are going to reach your orgasm.

'Y/N, let's cum together, I want you to look at me when you cum.' Jihyo breaks the kiss and moans again.

"Of course, Jihyo," I keep thrusting, and when I feel my orgasm coming I put my forehead to hers and stare into her eyes. "Jihyo, I'm going to cum."

Jihyo nods and uses her legs to press you into her deepest part, her juice splash all over your cock when she cums, the suction of her womb makes you plant all your cum in her.

You two just hug together, enjoy the post orgasm.

I kiss Jihyo, while holding onto her hips. After a time I pull out of Jihyo.

You slowly put out, and your cum keeps dripping from Jihyo's pussy. 'You are such a cum machine huh?' Jihyo smirks while massaging your ball.

Jihyo bends down to clean your shaft, you look out the window, the sun is peeking out already, ' Times goes fast, right? How long did we take from our first meet to we fuck each together.'

"Not long at all." I let Jihyo finish before telling her to hurry to her room before Mina gets here.

'Last time still want me to stay, and now already wanting me to leave huh?' Jihyo smirks.

'The sun is just starting to go up, still got hours before Mina comes, let me rest a while first.' Jihyo sleeps on your bed, still naked.

I get behind Jihyo, "So what makes you want to stay this time?"

'Does it matter?' Jihyo says without opening her eye and pats the bed, signaling you to sleep next to her.

'Or you have something that you would like to hear me say?'

"Lots of things." I tease. "It doesn't matter I was just curious."

You hug Jihyo and try to get some sleep before work.

[moonstruckme]

hiii! i love the way you wite james, so i was wondering if you could write something with reader getting james flowers and he's never gotten flowers before,,, it would be so cute, thanks bae!

Hi, thanks so much sweetheart :)

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 720 words

You show up at James’ doorstep on a crisp Tuesday afternoon with a small bunch of sunflowers clutched in your hand. 

His grin is automatic. “Hi, angel.” You smile back at him, raising your hand in a cute little wave. “We don’t have plans, do we? I thought I was picking you up for coffee tomorrow morning.” 

“We don’t,” you reassure him. “I was just around, and I thought I might say hi, if that’s okay.” The wind blows your hair into your face, and you brush it behind your ear. 

“Of course it’s okay.” James reaches forward, giving your shoulder a squeeze while he ushers you through the door. You look really lovely, eyes bright and hair tousled from the chilly wind. “I always love to see you, you know that. What are these?” 

“These?” You hold up the flowers, and he nods. “They’re for you.” 

He feels his heart do a funny little twitch. “Wait, isn’t giving flowers supposed to be my thing?” 

You roll your eyes, moving past him into the kitchen. “Don’t be so old-fashioned, Potter. They made me think of you, so I got them. Do you have, like, a vase or something I could set them in?”

James is awestruck. He’s so in love he’s choking on it. 

“Or I could just set them on the table, I guess,” you go on, opening and closing cabinets. “They’re your flowers, you can do whatever you want with them.” 

“They made you think of me?” 

You pause, giving him an odd look. “Well, yeah.” 

“Why?” 

You shrug, looking, for the first time since you’ve arrived, a bit bashful. “I don’t know. They just reminded me of you a little bit. They’re yellow, I guess. You don’t feel like you’re a yellow person?” 

A smile tugs at James’ lips. “I’d be honored to be a yellow person.” 

“Well, good.” You blow out a breath that’s half laugh. A piece of hair slips from behind your ear, and you slot it back in place. “So, do you have anything I can put them in, or?”

“I might have an empty wine bottle, or I could borrow a vase from Remus…” he shakes his head. “Sweetheart, could you come here for a second?” 

You look bemused, but oblige him, meeting him halfway by the kitchen table. James’ arms come around you so fast a tiny oomph of surprise leaves you just before he lifts you off your feet. You hug him back a second later, pushing your nose into his shoulder, and James can feel the soft silkiness of petals where you’re crushing the flowers to the back of his neck. 

“What’s this for?” you ask after a little while, and it’s a good thing, because James was starting to worry he was holding you so tightly you couldn’t breathe. 

“This is so nice of you,” James says, voice heavy with fondness. He lowers you back to the ground, but sets his hands on your shoulders to keep you still while he plants a solid kiss on the top of your head. “Thank you.” 

“James, they’re just flowers.” 

There’s nothing just about this. “They made you think of me,” he says feebly, big thumbs stroking lovingly on either side of your face. “Angel, that’s the sweetest thing I ever heard. What’re you trying to do to me?” 

“Oh my god.” You roll your eyes, but there’s no real annoyance in your tone, only warmth. “You bring me flowers all the time. I’m just returning the favor for once.” 

James smiles at you with all he’s worth. You don’t get it, but that’s okay. It’s enough that you care. “I’m gonna get you the best, most chocolatey coffee in the world tomorrow,” he promises. “And a giant pastry to go with it.” 

“You get me enough.” You push against his chest playfully. “How am I supposed to get even if you keep getting me things?” 

“You’re not,” he says plainly. “That’s my grand plan for keeping you on the hook. You’re never allowed to even out the balance.” 

“We’ll see about that.” You grin as you step out of his embrace, moving back into the kitchen. “Where’s that wine bottle? The next thing I’m getting you is a proper vase.” 

James thinks he could get used to this. 

[buttercupblu]

God is Fair|The Lore

Devotional Love with Suguru x Reader|Two-Shot

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3

the deets: ever since you were young, you knew you were meant for each other. he came into your life like a storm and grew closer no matter how distant you seemed. he swelled and captured your heart every time he was near. so why did you keep fighting him? w.c: 12.7k (holy f*ck) out of idk yet for part-two the rest (god bless) tags: fem!reader, mostly angsty….pretty much 90% angst for part 1, repressed feelings, jealousy, lingering lips and fingers, a little bit of self-depreciation at the end but pick that crown up love, reader gets a little violent at the end 😳|if i missed anything, pls comment or DM ☺️ angel’s note: this story started as one thing and ended up as another—so goes the way of life. PSA: most of the good, filthy, mack-nasty shyt is in part 2/3, but you’ve gotta wade through the fire first to get it. It’s always worth it|thanks for reading 🖤 earworm 🐛: Chihiro|Billie Eilish

Over time, you became perfectly molded to him.

As did his lips to your tender bud that sank under his sinful tongue.

Slender fingers grip and drown under his raven locks, barely saving you from the shallow breaths you must take to stay alive.

You’re just above water, and he steals your air, spelling poetry with his tongue over your folding petals.

Broken coos spill from your puffy lips—his favorite melody to ever grace his ears.

Whether it was today, tomorrow, yesterday, or forever—you fall—in and in and even deeper into his grasp. Under the waves and trapped in his ocean—he gently pulls you under—your lungs yearning for air, but you never want out.

And the way he dives in, drowning to taste every drop, every sweet, delectable sip of your nectar like he could live the rest of his life without oxygen—tells you that he doesn’t either. 

You learned to love each other’s oceans and came to mix seas. Both treaded rough waters but learned to float with calm bodies.

Now you lie hand in hand, limbs weaved like vines through each other’s arms, as you cuddle. Completely spent from another night in each other’s depths. Grateful. Grateful for his love—his patience.

And wondering how on Earth you thought it’d be possible to exist without someone you swore you despised.

Suguru has always been the best—the best at being good, the best at being kind, the best at being quiet—the best at being better than you. 

When you were eight years old, he made his quiet introduction into your quaint little neighborhood, arriving in a flashy Mercedes-Benz followed by two moving trucks that pulled right into the driveway directly across the street from your humble home. Heels painted with red bottoms adorning stocking-covered legs were the first things you saw as you watched from your bedroom window. 

The sound of movers drew your attention. No one ever came to your city, let alone your cul-de-sac. You felt a shift. A change was coming.

A tall woman, her long, sleek ponytail blowing in the wind, stepped out of the driver’s seat wearing large couture shades that took up most of her face. The overhanging forecast made everything bleak and gray, but the sunglasses stayed. A man exited the passenger seat and came to the woman’s side. He gingerly took her hand and looked around with a small smile, gently rubbing her arm. She slightly grimaced and handed him what looked like one of those small, overpriced designer bags.

They looked so…out of place.

They had to smell like money.

What the heck were they doing here? 

In a city like yours, one of those places where everyone knows everyone and everybody's business, you instantly knew that this couple would be the talk of the town. At least with the adults.  

You blew air into your bangs. You weren’t expecting new neighbors, but they could have at least come with a kid—someone who might actually want you around. 

“Hey, Bug,” your dad called from the garden.

He always left the back door open so he could hear you in case you needed him. He must have heard the rumbling of their heavy trucks now being unloaded with elegant furniture. Would all of that even fit in there? Their house was bigger than yours but not by much. “Sounds like we’ve got new neighbors. Might go by later and say hi if you want to come.”

“No thanks.”

You turned back to the window, resting your head on your arms. Meeting Mr. and Mrs. Richy Rich didn't sound very appealing to you and might only make you feel worse on this already gloomy Spring day.

For once, you wanted to be pleasantly surprised and not just surprised with something you wouldn’t expect, like hitting the jackpot or whatever.

And then you saw him.

Inky black hair drawn into a short ponytail, emerging from the back seat of the fancy car and clutching a book thicker than his torso. His starched white-collar shirt and beige shorts reminded you of school. He kept his chin tucked and looked like the wind just might knock him over if the book wasn’t keeping him upright. 

He and the woman were near twins. Definitely mother and son. She smoothed her hands down her skirt and put on a genuine smile for him. The man draped his arm around the boy’s shoulders as he took in the neighborhood. Slow and sheepish. You thought his eyes caught yours when he looked behind him and you ducked under the window sill. 

Sh—

“You can’t stay cooped up in here all the time, Bug,” your dad called again. It sounded like he might be wrapping up. “You don’t know what you’re missing out on.”

You inched back up to the window and peered over the edge. The boy looked like he was just as lost as to why he was there.

Anxious. Reserved. Kind of boring. 

Not your speed.

You blew a raspberry and turned away. So much for that. You wouldn’t be missing much.

In your neighborhood, all the kids walked freely to each other’s houses to see if anyone was home. This was before everyone had cell phones to save time and figure it out for them. 

You watched it happen with the other kids all the time. They’d visit each other and either stay inside (super rare) or gather the rest of the neighborhood to play in the cul-de-sac or park. 

But you were never quite given a direct invitation.

The few friends you were close with moved away about a year ago, and the thought of making new ones who would eventually do the same kept you emotionally at arm's length. To make it worse, you swore the group you were left with undoubtedly hated you.

Why?

Because you had a history of sucking. 

Everyone else in the neighborhood was naturally good at something. Anything. Everything.

But you?

You had to try.

Mess up. And try again. At almost anything you could name.

Basketball? Trash. 

Tag? You were slow.

Football? Pssssh. As if—like you’d let yourself get hurt? You sat out every time.

So, the kids stopped inviting you or always picked you last. Both were grimy slaps in the face. Because you always knew you could be better. Delulu was the solulu if they’d only give you a chance. Or two. Or a few. But damn, you were trying. 

At least you weren’t the only one being left out. 

It’d been weeks since you saw the new kid on the block—not like you thought about him much after you dismissed him. But slowly, as the sounds of Spring beckoned him outside, he reminded you that the new “rich” neighbors did indeed have a kid.

It started with the curtains in his living room window gently ruffling before he’d peek out, scanning the scene for signs of life. Then eventually upgraded to gracing the neighborhood with his presence to sit outside. For hours, he watched from his front porch as the neighborhood kids dashed past your houses to play in the cul-de-sac. 

It kind of made you jealous—the amount of space and freedom on their porch that his parents clearly weren’t taking advantage of. Only two plastic chairs and a small table occupied the space, and they weren’t nearly as lovely as the things you saw go into the home on move-in day. If it were up to you, you’d string up one of those hammocks big enough for two like you’d seen on TV and just float in the breeze under the overhang. It had been a frequent daydream of yours long before they moved in. 

Instead, a gawking boy with too much time on his hands made it his home. Watching. Fiddling with his fingers and leaning on the rail. Watching. Always seeming too afraid to approach.

He had what you thought was the best house in the neighborhood (and probably the most money), and still, he looked so lonely. 

With the background he seemed to come from, you thought he’d be more ballsy. 

One day, you were, and you walked right up there, took the hand of the wide-eyed kid, and led him to the rest of the kids down at the park. His dad watched the whole thing go down from the kitchen window as he did the dishes, silently laughing as the boy stumbled behind you without saying a word. 

This was your chance. You were so tired of the other kids being better than you. With him being the new kid, you thought he’d at least be somewhat on your level or maybe even a bit worse. Anything was better than being the odd one out. 

You and the boy just a few inches shorter than you crashed the party right before the next game started. You beamed at the group like you had caught a prized fish. 

“Guys, this is um…um…” Then you realize you hadn’t asked his name. And he was still holding your hand. 

You dropped it and nudged him. “Suguru,” he said softly, seeming to avoid eye contact.

Suguru hadn’t seen that many kids in a group like this outside of school. He didn’t mean to look so anxious, but he wasn’t used to being in a neighborhood full of kids his age. He instantly felt like an outsider seeing how comfortable everyone was with each other, apart from you by his side. While soft smiles offered him a glimmer of acceptance, the stares made him self-conscious. He wondered if he could ever fit in.

You repeated his name in case no one heard him. Suguru. It naturally rolled off your tongue. Soft and sweet. Like the boy. He fidgeted with his fingers, but hearing his name felt reassuring. You looked at him and grinned. It was time to see what he’s got.

Tee-ball was the game. One you hated the most. Running was not your sport, and you certainly didn’t have an arm, so it never hurt your feelings too much when you weren’t picked for teams. But you made sure Suguru was. You wanted to see him in action. 

Last summer, you guys found an old traffic cone to use as the tee and placed sticks around the field for bases. 

You didn’t expect much from Suguru when it was time to bat because…look at him. He was so small and timid. The bat borrowed from someone’s dad was almost the same size as him, and you swore you saw his feet lift a few times during his practice swings. Too much of that and he’d be airborne. You prepared to give him a “job well done” pat on the back once he hit the ball a few feet.

Suguru squared up at the tee—on his way to join you at the bottom of the barrel.

And wouldn’t you know it? 

He knocked the ball clear out of the park and didn’t even skim the cone. 

Your mouth fell open before you remembered you were the designated retriever since you weren’t playing the game. You grumbled the whole walk and search for it. 

And then he did it again. And again. And again. 

And surprise, surprise, he excelled at every game he played after. Everyone wanted Suguru on their team. 

You gaped at the feat—so much power, strength, and coordination in such an unassuming body.

And instantly hated him.

Not because he was the best or braggy about it. 

It was the complete opposite. 

He barely seemed to acknowledge it—not in an arrogant, dismissive way, but more like he was just happy to be involved and doing something. He was sheepish with compliments and even seemed nervous to receive them. He’d rub his head and give a little close-eyed smile before returning to the game.

And peer over to you on the sidelines for approval. 

Every swing, every hit, and every game after, his purple eyes would find yours whenever he thought he’d done something worthwhile.

You tried to hide the jealous scowl, returning his shy smile with a nod and told him to keep his head in the game. 

But he noticed.

He saw it. He knew you were unhappy, and he wanted nothing more than to help. 

So after that, you kind of mirrored each other. 

The kids always saw you as a try-hard—constantly on repeat, trying to make yourself valid and stand out. You’d grab failure by the throat and wring its neck, determined to make it forget your name. Not because you were attention-seeking; you only wanted to be counted in.

And so the student became the teacher. Suguru began to slip you little nods as if saying he saw you—just like you saw him all those times on his front porch. It’d annoy you at first, what you thought could’ve been pity, but it felt nice to finally be acknowledged by someone. 

And so gradually, you looked to him as a spectator, earning silent yeses and nos until you finally worked up the courage to do what you were afraid of most. Ask him to be a friend. 

To help you perfect your skills, of course. 

But the friendship blossomed like the Spring, and you and Suguru actually grew really close—instantly drawn to each other. Pop-ups to his house were the norm as you had the most advantage out of everyone in the neighborhood by living right across from him. And you both were always brought up by one another’s parents.

Turns out Suguru’s dad was a lot like yours and they got on really well. They’re both funny, kind. But your dad’s a little bit different. He’s got rebellion in his bones, as he often talked about when he told you stories about his youth and take-no-shit hippie days. 

“I’m serious, Bug. So, there we were, strapped to the tree. Shackled, really.” 

He mimicked the story with his arms in between laughs. 

“So, so we’re all chained up, right? And this bulldozer is coming right at our heads, ya? I look over to Stanley,” your even crazier God-father who showered you with gifts every time he visited, “I say, ‘Stanley, toughen up. You look like you’re about to piss yourself.’ And he goes, ‘I’m not scared. I forgot to go before we locked ourselves in.’” 

Your dad roared with laughter, wiping the tears from his eyes like he hadn’t told that story a million times. Like he was going around trying to collect little activists. But Suguru almost fell over, leaning into his every word. He was such a shy laugher, always creasing his eyes and dimpling his cheeks when he did. It made your dad feel like the funniest guy alive when Suguru entertained his jokes.

“You were so brave,” and Suguru called your dad by his nickname just like your dad told him to. “I want to be that brave when I’m older.”

Your dad winked at you—you stuck out your tongue. Suguru was a good kid, he thought and reminded him a bit of himself.

Those days, your dad was mostly the same. He didn’t need much and chose to live a quaint and peaceful life. He’d talk your ear off about activism, travel, and stories about your mom who passed when you were born. You never got to “meet” her, but you always felt like you knew exactly who she was. And she was totally different from Suguru’s mom, who you learned was a hard-working corporate baddie. Red bottom heels. Makes sense.

By the end of that first summer, your families were practically joined at the hip. You and Suguru even more so. Outside of house calls and playing games with the rest of the neighborhood, the two of you also made frequent trips to the makeshift pier. Almost everything in your neighborhood and the surrounding area was walkable, including a small, wobbly, probably dangerous dock that sat over the small lake in town. You’d play a little alphabet game you made up on the walk down and constantly challenge him. Only for him to literally beat you at your own game nine times out of ten. 

“Angels shop at—” You skipped down the dirt path.

“Blessed boutiques,” Suguru finished, “Beautiful coats—”

“Can clothe their wings. Dashing dolls—”

“Eat every sweet. Forks will find—”

“Giant…giant,” you thought and thought and thought, “Giant—”

“Geese!”’ Suguru tagged you and ran down the dock, deeming you the loser of that round. You strolled down to meet him near the water reflecting the sunset. A pout took up your face. He patted the deck, motioning for you to sit. “You’re gonna miss the fireflies.”

Watching them pop up one by one and glow on the water as the sun went down became a ritual. And one of your favorite memories of summer.

The following school year, you were even more inseparable. And when the end of fifth grade rolled around the year after, you knew it was fate when you found out you’d be attending the same middle school. 

You were overjoyed. So was Suguru, but for different reasons. To you, now it was on. 

Academics was an area where you had a fair shot at flourishing. You were studious, attentive, and almost the perfect student. And while you didn’t have bad grades, you always felt like you could be better. And you know why. Because everything came naturally to Suguru, of course. 

Thank goodness for extracurriculars, though. The two of you didn’t need to do everything together, and you both benefited from the time and separation to do your own thing and discover your own interests. The Newspaper club caught your eye and was more interesting than you thought it would be—the first hobby to make you fall in love with words. 

Suguru took an interest in robotics and, surprisingly, Yearbook. He was pretty crafty with a camera and made sure to snap the best photos of you during your events. 

But the two of you rarely spoke of school or after-school activities. You never wanted him to know if you were struggling or needed help with anything and tried not to rely on him so much those days, so everything with you was always good.

It had to be.

He was still the competition, after all.

And you had to appear just as flawless. 

Instead, you enjoyed late-night phone calls that went way past both of your bedtimes as you grew into middle schoolers. Pretending to be asleep and slipping the phone under your pillow without moving a muscle when your parents checked in was a sport, but it couldn’t be helped. The books you were reading, shows you were watching, and thoughts on what high school would be like were too good not to talk about into the late-night hours—even when your eyelids got too tired to stay open. Falling asleep with your cellphones in hand or occupying a space on your pillows was the norm. 

“What’d ya think about the movie?” 

“I mean, the book is always better, right? But like,” you sighed happily into the phone, “they made their lives look so…amazing.”

The two of you watched The Great Gatsby 1979 version on DVD at Suguru’s house right after school that day before you had to scurry off to help your dad in the garden. Suguru finished the book a few days ago, and after catching him with it during lunch and poking him enough to get him to spill some of the details, you were sold.

A glamorous romance about a life of luxury and passion?

Say less.

And because you couldn’t resist, you told him you’d finish it in less time than he did.

Suguru thought the movie was pretty true to the book, but man, what a sad story. You, however, were in love with the lifestyle.

“What about Daisy?” he asked.

You pondered Daisy’s decision for half a second before deciding she was a one-off. All her life she had been spoiled, something you were a total stranger to but didn’t make a point to say—only dismissed her frivolous ways and called her a coward. “Just the money and parties would be enough for me,” you said in a daydream. “It’d be too happy to be that shallow.” 

Suguru laughed and said that wasn’t the point of the book. “Money can't always buy happiness. She could’ve had love. It was right there.” He sounded so sophisticated when he said it, much too wise and sappy for a 13-year-old. 

You sucked your teeth. “That’s easy for you to say.” And you reminded him that he has a nicer house, clothes, car. “And when are y’all getting the Benz back?”

Lately, you and Suguru had been getting picked up by his dad in a major downgrade of a car. It’d been at least two months, and you were missing the feel of luxury against your skin.

The phone went quiet for a second, and Suguru scratched his head. “Uh, we actually don’t have it anymore.”

Your eyes widened as if he'd just told you someone died. Borderline devastation set in like it was your family losing one of its greatest displays of wealth. But Suguru didn’t sound the least bit sad when he told you that his dad referred to the “new car” as a “cash car” because they needed something quick.

And then it clicked, and you realized why you’d been noticing that furniture and things had also been disappearing in his house when you came over. And why he had to switch to the free lunch program you were also on at school. And why his dad mentioned looking for a second job the other day.

Suguru’s family had been hit by the recession.

And that’s how he became your neighbor.

Most of everything Suguru grew up with in his previous family home was placed in storage when they first moved into your neighborhood. His mom thought their stay would be temporary; she had been demoted at work but didn’t think it was a big deal, and things would quickly be back to normal—maybe even come with a promotion if she worked hard enough.

But it wasn’t her skills that was the problem. The economy was in shambles, and her company was running out of money. After two years of hoping for a miracle, she and over 40% of her company were laid off.

They kept all of this from Suguru until only a few weeks ago. He was much too young to understand what it all meant when it first happened—he was just a kid. But now, he was older, smarter, way less naïve. They couldn’t keep lying to him about why the car was away at the shop or why the family heirloom dining table went missing, among other things. 

When they told him that he’d have to slow down on his growing book collection and only get one gift for his birthday that year, that’s when he started asking questions—not that either of those things meant much to him. He was more than happy to frequent the school library, and you noticed that he’d been spending a lot more time there than usual during breaks.

What bothered Suguru the most was the looks his parents gave him when they told him everything. Like they were delivering the worst news in the world. Like they were so worried that they’d be disappointing him. Like they should be ashamed. 

It hurt him more to know that they felt like they had failed him. 

“My dad just looks so tired all of the time now.”

Mr. Geto, who had been a stay-at-home work-from-home employee since before Suguru was born, had to get a part-time job working overnight to help bridge the widening gap between their old and new lifestyle.

Now, Suguru doesn’t get to see him as much except to make breakfast and kiss Suguru goodbye with a sluggish smile on his face before school.

He really missed his dad. And it made you feel like shit for momentarily being a Daisy.

For the rest of the night, you just listened to Suguru tell stories about back home—what his parents were like, the things they used to do, the trips they would take, and the time they spent together. Little memories from a place you’ve never been but could clearly see as he talked through the night.

Never once did Suguru mention missing the things he used to have or wanted now. The people in his life were what he cared about most. 

“My dad got a new antenna for the TV to surprise my mom with so she can still watch her favorite channels from back home,” he laughed. “It’s so big. I hadn’t seen one before, so it was kinda funny to look at, but I’m glad it’ll make her happy.”

You solemnly smiled and propped up on your arm. “Do you ever miss home? Like being back there?”

He mentioned that he thought about it sometimes: the plush green grass in his front and backyard that he’d lay in for hours, the much sunnier skies compared to the frequently gray and cloudy ones, and humid air here in your rainy city, the few friends and family members he had to leave behind.

But he liked it here better and surprised the hell out of you by saying so. 

Anywhere was better than being here. 

Even though his family was going through a hard time, they still managed to get the nicest house in the neighborhood. You could only imagine what his childhood home looked like compared to the one bedroom and living room your dad made into his own space.

You asked why. What could possibly make this place any better than where he came from?

You could hear him shrug through the phone as he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling decorated with glow-in-the-dark stars.

“I don’t know,” he said. “It’s just something about this place.”

You still think about that conversation sometimes.

The end of middle school came in a blaze, and so did puberty. 

Suddenly, you became aware that it was time to start caring about what you looked like.

Some nights, you would call it early with Suguru in favor of spending hours on YouTube watching videos and learning how to wear makeup. You put more thought into how you dressed and tried your best to style the little clothes you had into mostly decent outfits.

Every morning, you’d beam when you entered the kitchen to grab breakfast and say goodbye to your dad. He’d try his best not to cry, watching his little Bug grow up before his eyes. 

Suguru did some growing, too.

The summer of 7th grade, he got a little taller, and when your final year started, you guys were finally neck and neck. He was beginning to be able to see the top of your head when he lifted his chin, and he would make little jokes about it in his prepubescent boy voice that was starting to crack. You’d push the too-big glasses that he got at the start of middle school up the bridge of his nose and tell him not to get too cocky. This was the tallest he would get, you’d tease. He may have been good at everything, but he’d always be a pip-squeak. 

When you weren’t going back and forth with Suguru, you were hanging out with the new gal pals you made at school. Your little trio started spending more time together, window shopping at the mall, attending football games after school, and talking each other’s ears off about anything in between throughout your last year. You couldn’t tell Suguru everything, of course—there are some things that guys will simply never be able to relate to or understand. 

And one day, while the three of you sat at lunch together while Suguru was off with his robotics team, one of your gals leaned over the cafeteria table to poke you with a devious smile and ask the age-old question: who do you like in school?

Your brain had the audacity to picture Suguru first. 

Your friends squealed watching your face blush beet red, but you turned away and never answered the question—only said that you were more focused on school and extracurriculars to help you in college more than anything else. 

But where the hell did that come from? 

Suguru was, debatably, your best friend, but that was it.

Not that you needed to convince anyone else of that. Just…yourself?

Before that day, you never really thought of Suguru in that light. He was this quiet, nerdy, prodigy of a boy who was great at everything and gave you another reason to want to be just as good. You secretly looked up to him, if you wanted to call it that, but you certainly didn’t like him. 

He was just the boy next door. 

The boy next door who was challenging you once again: to push the little hints of affection that had been blossoming aside and dismiss them.

Bury them down, keep your eyes on the prize, and finally be rewarded for your efforts.

To keep up with him, not fall in love with him. 

On a rare sunny Saturday, a month and a half before school let out for the summer, the two of you sat on his beloved front porch with the future on your minds.  

Suguru picked at the grass growing between the wooden boards. “Thinking about trying something new next year?”

You popped another sugary blackberry from your backyard into your mouth while stretched out on Suguru’s favorite quilt. He couldn’t help but notice how relaxed you looked, drinking up the warm sunbeams on your skin.

“I don’t know,” your arms folded behind your head as you stared at the ceiling, “I love Newspaper, but…I don’t know. I think I wanna branch out.”

You just weren’t sure how yet. You had done some research on the high school you’d both be attending next year and ran down the list looking for something to jump out at you. Something you could really put yourself into. You still loved writing and expressing yourself, but there was nothing else besides repeating Newspaper or trying Yearbook (Sugu’s territory). The rest of your options weren’t ideal, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. 

“How about volleyball?”

“Nah.”

“Art club?”

“Mmm-mm.”

He leaned against the wooden railing. “Hmmm, choir?”

You laughed and didn’t even bother to respond to what was clearly a joke. 

He sighed and pensively licked the sugar from his fingers before asking if maybe you’d want to do something together. 

You looked at him and squinted. “What?” he shrugged.

“You know what.” And he shook his head all innocent-like.

Always innocent that Suguru. Effortlessly wrapping everyone around his finger. Your dad, his teachers. Even your trio mentioned him from time to time about how helpful he was. With all the times he went out of his way to make sure you were okay, even you were starting to let your guard down. Watching him now as his ponytail blew softly in the wind, looking so naïve as to what you meant but still wanting to understand, made you blush sick.

Not having much of a reason to actually be so guarded, you made one up. “You tryna go toe to toe with me, Geto?.”

Your brow cocked, and you used his last name because you knew it’d get to him. He was fully aware that you only say it when you’re serious, and it’s mostly blurted when you guys go at it on Mario Kart. 

“Just because I said we should do something together?” 

“Yeah, so you can one-up me.”

If there was a hobby or favorite pastime that you really enjoyed and might actually be better than good at, you knew it was best to keep it out of Suguru’s reach. Academic and recreational competitions needed to remain separate if you wanted to keep your sanity.

Suguru took a breath. If there was one thing he didn’t bother competing with you at, it was arguing. He knew you wouldn't back down if he just sat here and tried to convince you; you’d poke a hole in every counter until he simply gave up.

So, instead, he pandered to your inflated ego, chewing his lip before telling the truth. “C’mon, Twin. I promise I won’t. Do it for me.”

His soft purple gaze landed on you, and you got a funny feeling in your stomach that you hadn’t felt before. 

He was serious. 

He really wanted to be at your side trying something new—exploring together—helping each other find yourselves.

The shy teen who was as quiet as a mouse and yet a beast of a kid wanted to be right there with you. And he wasn’t afraid to say it.

You cleared your throat and averted his gaze. “Fine,” you agreed, but on one condition, “It stays a hobby, no competing.” And it sounded like you were talking to yourself more than him. “But valedictorian? That’s mine.” And you tossed another blackberry into the air and caught it perfectly in your mouth, making Suguru raise his eyebrows.

“That’s a bet,” he said, reaching over to wipe a bit of sugar from the corner of your lips. You swat away his hand and punch his shoulder, but damn him if the gesture didn’t make you feel all weird inside. He faked an “Ow” and rubbed his arm before joining you on the quilt to soak in the sun. You closed your eyes and pretended to float in the breeze whistling through the railing. Even without the hammock, it kind of felt like you were. 

“Sooo, what do you wanna do this summer?” And the possibilities felt endless.

Who knew this core memory of each other’s youth, the moment you finally let his fingers inch across the blanket and softly brush yours without pulling back, would be one of your last? 

Two weeks before break started, after all of your plans for the summer and the following school year had been planned out, it happened. 

To this day, you question the timing of your worst nightmare—just when you thought you were living the dream—coming true.

The Geto’s were moving on up. 

For years, Suguru watched his mom grind in corporate America. It wasn’t new to him; she had one of the hardest work ethics he’d ever seen, but it was on a different level after his family moved to your city.

Something in her had changed—the thought of instability.

She knew Suguru was used to not seeing her due to long hours at work, but when it started to affect her husband, when it began to shift the family’s dynamic, she knew she had to figure something out, and fast.

She could sacrifice her time for the family. She couldn’t sacrifice Suguru’s time with his dad. 

All these years, Suguru’s family pulled themselves up by their bootstraps while Suguru was lost in the bliss of friendship. Mrs. Geto’s hard work paid off, and she got a promotion—on the opposite end of the country. 

The day was bright and sunny when he left, the exact opposite of how you felt watching the beat-up car that had grown on you drive out of the neighborhood.

You looked on from your window because you didn’t want him to see you crying, watching, or caring. 

You had been right from the first time you saw him. 

And were back to square one.

Alone.

You guys tried to stay in touch, you really did, but being in totally different time zones made keeping up with each other a little harder. New apps for your phones, like Snapchat and Instagram, helped a little, but they didn't compare to the late-night phone calls you missed so much. 

At first, Suguru would Snap you about how he was getting on in his new city, neighborhood, and places his family would explore over the summer.

The thought of him being someone’s new boy-next-door made your stomach twist.

When school rolled around, he’d send Snaps and joke about his preppy new uniform that came with a vibrant red tie and over-starched navy pants. His mom got him into a fancy private school because, of course she would, but they were really strict with phones, so you weren't able to talk to him until he got home. By the time he did, the sun had already gone down for you, and you’d be too tired from your own after-school activities to keep your eyes open.

You missed Suguru—even your dad missed him and his family terribly. 

You missed him so much that you began to resent him—his new life, fancy school, and new “friends”. Jealousy reared its ugly head, forcing you to put your walls up again. 

Another friend, gone, moved on to bigger and better things. Leaving you behind once again.

You had finally found a friend, a real friend, who never made you feel bad—someone you could tell almost all of your secrets to.

Who got whisked away.

Who you’d give anything to see again and go back to the way things were. 

Though it’d only been five years, you felt like you’d known him your entire life.

But what you thought was fate, turned out to be folly.

It wasn’t fair.

Sometimes I fall But still, I rise To the skies high above  In the clouds my ego Will go where no one knows

Why I am here

And why I try

To defy what I believe What it means to succeed To be won

To be one

To be “the one”

A smoking gun.

“Thank you.”

The cafe filled with snapping fingers as you walked off the stage, heart pounding and a smile plastered on your ducking head. 

Look at you now. Performing in cafes, libraries, open-mics, wherever you could be that called for an audience. Still a little shy, but letting it motivate you and pour out on the floor to be soaked up by the listeners. It was an adrenaline rush, finally finding something you knew belonged to you and being damned good at it. 

No one was better than you at telling the world how you felt while simultaneously mesmerizing an audience with your soliloquy and speech. Words still had a hold on you; you just figured it was better to say them out loud than keep them written down.

“Good job, Bug.” Your dad handed you a hot cup of tea fresh from the counter with your nickname scribbled in big cursive letters across the cup. 

“Dad, please stop calling me that.”

He frowned. “But you’re my little bug.” He threw an arm around you, almost making you spill the hot liquid. 

You groaned and protested. “I’m not a kid anymore.” And took a sip too soon, burning the tip of your tongue. You held it in and swallowed, looking around to see if anyone else saw the scorned look on your face. 

You thought of 15 as one of your prime years and kept yourself busy to prove it. Just a sophomore in high school, Baby had a new hobby: dominating slam poetry. You had taken over the scene in your city with expansion heavy on your mind.

Though it was hard for your dad to hear, you were right; you weren’t a kid anymore. But you knew he was just proud of you. More than you could ever know. It made him happy to see you had something no one could take from you. 

With a tsk, you leaned into his hug. You should be thanking him more. When the idea of doing slam poetry first crossed your mind, you were a hot mess (surprise, surprise) at being confident (BIG surprise)—your stage presence was lacking, to be specific. 

On the page, your poems were like water in a desert, but opening your mouth and performing it with your whole chest was…different. 

Fixating on your lines and rhythm made you want to pull your hair out. It was hard making sure your words sounded like you and would be understood. You needed to be understood. 

You’d practice your performances in front of your dad until you were blue in the face. A show was put on for anyone who would listen. And secretly, you missed Suguru’s presence because he’d be perfect for it.

But you didn’t need him. You were on your way to competing in your first official local competition. All your practice around the city and long hours at home agonizing over your talent for slam poetry built up to that moment—the time to show the world what you had to offer. 

Nothing felt better than holding the gold 1st place medallion between your fingers afterward. Regionals came next, and nothing could have validated your talent more than the medals you took home on top of the prize money your dad stashed away for college. 

It was time to travel, and Nationals was your next target.

You couldn’t describe the feeling of finally being outside your city. The thought of being beyond the walls of home once felt like a hopeless dream. New cities, new friends, new organizations, and new styles of poetry were within your reach. The exhilarating travel that worried your dad put a thrill in your heart. You wanted to see everything—be heard everywhere. Life was full of opportunity and everything it had to offer. 

“So you’re gonna do the group piece and then an individual one, maybe?” 

You leaned against the cool bus window as you and your teammates winded down the road to your next hotel. Over the summer, you traveled with your state’s top slam poetry organization to compete in regional cities around the coast. All of this was practice for the Nationals coming up that August before school started. The day was coming faster than you could imagine. 

“I don’t know about a solo,” you wondered.

You looked out the window and chewed your bottom lip. Your team lead had been pushing you to do a stand-alone piece for the Nationals for weeks, but you felt far from ready. You were strong in a group, but on your own, looking out into a crowd of people while demanding their attention on an empty stage, the thought made you queasy.

This wasn’t your local library or a small regional contest. Nationals is where you tell the country who you are and why you matter. 

“Hey,” a hand rested on your shoulder, calling you back. “You’ve got this. You deserve this.” 

And you did deserve it. You’d worked too hard and advanced so far in such a short amount of time. You didn’t think you’d get here so fast, but here you were, on a double-decker bus full of others who were just as talented as you, in a place where you belonged. In a place where you didn’t have to try so hard or look for that slight nod of approval to let you know you were seen. 

August was in a hurry to put you on the stage because, before you knew it, it was time to head to California for the Nationals. What better place to begin to live your dreams than in the place where they all come true? Sunny skies, sandy beaches, and the aura of art and performance lingered in the air. It was the complete opposite of where you came from. It felt like home. You could see how Suguru could get easily lost in all. 

You always wanted to visit the West Coast and see how he was living.

It’d be so funny to randomly Snap him after all this time and tell him you were so close, but you decided against it.

Cali was HUGE; there’s no way the competition would just happen to be in his city for you to casually bump into him.

Plus, imagine that awkward reunion after a few years of radio silence.

You two could be completely different people now.

He probably wouldn’t even want to see you.

Maybe you didn’t want to see him.

So many great things happened since his family packed up and left. In fact, without Suguru around, you found yourself excelling more naturally at anything and everything than ever before. Comparisons were a thing of the past, and you knew you had something no one else could take away from you.

Except maybe the competitor going on before you at the Nationals. 

The audience was loud and clearly approving of his killer performance as they ate him up with whistles and snapping fingers.

Who needed a mic when you had a voice like that?

Easily projecting across the entire venue with every rhythmic pop, beat, and enunciation of his words.

You might have met your match or worse.

For the first time in your poetic career, you thought you just might lose your winning streak. 

Anxiety convinced you to head back to the holding area. You just needed to run through the lines of your solo only a few more times.

You’ve got this.

He was nothing.

This was nothing.

You were taking home first place—absolutely positive that success was literally on the tip of your tongue. Until you saw him. 

The boy with the raven hair. 

Unmistakable and stopping you dead in your tracks as you saw him in the flesh for the first time in 2 years, standing long and tall in the venue.

Not in the audience.

Not as a stagehand.

But in another team’s holding room.

As a competitor. 

Your heart plummeted into your ass.

What in the fuck was he doing here???

You swiftly ducked behind the wall leading to your team’s holding area, hand flying to your chest to still the thunderous beating. 

Deep breaths, deep breaths. DEEP B R E A T H S. 

Suddenly, your mouth was desert dry.

The entire summer, you prepared yourself to keep from slipping up—how you would suppress the urge to call him, think about him, or wonder where he would be when you were here.

You covered all of the bases.

But here he was in a place you least expected.

In a place you now knew you’d dread seeing him the most.

The boy you had become a ghost to was haunting you, but somehow, you knew this would happen.

You only got a quick glance at him before you vanished, but it was enough of a glimpse to notice the chances.

And God, were there changes.

As teenagers do, you both had grown out of your prepubescent bodies and into your young adult ones. And while you thought you looked relatively the same with a few upgrades here and there, Suguru had gone through a full-blown glow-up that set yours on fire. 

“Almost ready?” 

You nearly jumped out of your skin. Your teammate followed your line of sight and smirked. “Know him?”

You shrugged a bit too nonchalantly and said you thought he looked familiar but didn’t. “Shame,” she rested her shoulder on the wall with a dreamy gaze. “He looks like a dream.” 

You turned away before you threw up and realized that you were about to be called up next. The frazzled look on your team lead’s face let you know she’d been looking for you, and you took a synced deep breath when she spotted you. Her hands fell on your shoulders before you went up the stairs to the stage. “You’ve got this.”

I’ve got this. . . . You don’t got this. 

Your legs felt like Jell-O walking up the short set of stairs to the black platform in the middle of the stage. You hadn’t been on one this big, in a venue so large, with an audience so vast and eyes in the hundreds. The row of judges sat below you, yet looked so intimidating. Heat engulfed you from the lights above—a literal deer playing the lion in the headlights.

Sight zeroed in on the judges, you avoided the audience. Hoping that he wasn't still there because you knew seeing him WOULD freak you out. 

In the silence Between the shattered and oppressed dreams I found, I tore The roar Of my own voice Reclaiming the night

Your lines flowed out of you more naturally than water, eyes closed, unfocused, or hazy as you transformed your surroundings into the scene of your story—the journey from struggle to empowerment—the story of why you deserved to be here. In that moment, there was no one else—not even the judges—just you, the stage, and the song that belonged to you, even if it mattered to no one else.

But it mattered to him.

And you didn’t see him until near the end of your set.

The familiarity of your voice called him to confirm it for himself. To make sure it was you. He couldn’t believe it. You looked so…powerful. Fully fledged in your adulthood, kicking ass and taking names. Fierce and poetic. The same attitude as the girl he grew up with but in its full realization. 

Your voice cracked a little when you spotted him, completely awe-struck by you, but you played it off like it was part of your set. Damn the boy who had the same gawking eyes that used to watch the neighborhood kids—quiet and longing. You hoped it wasn’t obvious, but Suguru noticed. He knew. He still had some kind of effect on you. He could tell by how quickly you looked away. You still felt a way about him. He wasn’t just a nobody to you. But given the circumstances, he didn’t know whether to love or hate it by the time he took the stage. 

The mic fit snuggly between his fingers. It was rare that someone fully approached it without starting their piece first. You wondered where he was going with this, why he looked a bit tense, why he kept his gaze low—if it could be because of you.

You held your breath and crossed your fingers. Once again, it was time to see him in action under the sweltering stage lights. And in seconds, you saw your gold medal fleeting.

You expected nothing less. 

His voice was lined with melody—a sweet, ethereal flow and a melodious string of vocabulary that wrapped you in an envelope and swaddled you like a baby. He sounded so mature. He sounded so much better…than you. 

The nerdy boy with too-big glasses and cracking voice had been replaced by a young man who towarded over the audience with a long side-bang and gauges in his ears. The red tie around his neck did look absolutely ridiculous like he said, but the rest of his navy blue uniform was tailored to perfection and fit like a glove.

He looked and sounded like where he came from. Money. But he was more than that. You found yourself hanging onto his every word as you watched from out of sight. He couldn’t see that he made your heart thump, but it was begging to fall out of your chest by the second.

This wasn’t about slam poetry anymore.

Suguru had entered your arena.

Shy, reserved, and knocking the ball out of the park. 

Out of over 200 solo acts, you came in 6th. Suguru came in 5th. 

And you couldn’t even feel good about it. Because you knew what this meant.

Regionals took over the remainder of your sophomore academic year, but when summer rolled back around, it was time to look Suguru in the face again at almost every out-of-state competition. The West Coast was once a dream—now you dreaded touring the area because you knew he would be there.

Performing.

Waiting to chew you up and spit you out. 

Over the final two years of high school, you both spent most of your free time hopping around the nation and directly squaring off with each other.

Growing more apart as you did.

Silent hatred brewed and led the way every time you saw him—unmistakably written on your face. 

He chalked it up to the fact that the two of you had changed over the years, and maybe you’d simply outgrown him. But he never thought someone he used to call his best friend could give him a look so cold. With no other choice but to follow your lead, he kept his distance and pretended you weren’t there.

But the way he racked up medal after medal, winning over judges and audiences alike, was loud and clear.

With him, you could only hope for second best. Though out-of-state competitions were just practice, losing to him in any capacity was a constant reminder that what was yours, wasn’t anymore.

If it ever was.

This time, anxiety burned through you instead of helping you. 

During junior year, one of the most pivotal moments of your poetic careers, you met face-to-face again at the Nationals. Both of your organizations fought their way to the semifinals, but as you held your breath waiting for the judges to call his team’s name, silence swept both of you when you realized that neither of you made it to the finals.

Again.

By that summer, you were tired, good and tired of inching closer and closer to third place, then second, but never first in out-of-state competitions where Suguru was in the mix.

He was sucking the life out of you, but you couldn’t show it, especially when on stage where you knew he’d have his eyes glued to you.

Then, in August of your senior year, it finally happened; you returned to the Nationals, your final opportunity to win and go international. This time, it was close to your territory, in Georgia.

All bets were off.

The winner was a toss-up.

And what a slap in the face to finally win….and tie with Suguru. 

You sulked on the inside the whole ride home while your teammates cheered and celebrated around you. To them, you’d just made history with your organization being the first in your state to go to the continental competition and have a shot at the World Poetry Slam Championship. 

To you, your freedom of expression kept escaping you.

You felt yourself starting to mold into something outside of yourself.

Some nights, you lied in bed, unable to sleep hearing Suguru’s rhythmic beats rack through your brain.

Analyzing them.

Judging them.

Mimicking them.

Wanting to be like the best.

Your foundation was shaking.

At least you didn’t have to worry about the continental competition. Winning wasn’t the point; only earning one of the top 10 high scores to be automatically qualified for the WPSC. 

It was a dream come true.

But how come it tasted so sour when you stood on that stage, your teammates going absolutely insane in the crowd at the news of you advancing to the international championship, but once again with a score just shy of Suguru’s? 

The two of you were declared the best in your country…and you were sulking. 

It shouldn’t matter!

You're one of the top 40 poets in the WORLD, babe!

And, for Godsake, a free plane ticket and trip to leave the country was waiting for you with your name on it! Belgian waffles and fountains of chocolate are more than enough reasons to get over yourself and this one-sided beef. 

But your dad still got an earful about it.

Weekly chats with him almost always centered around poetry and Suguru ever since you first saw him sophomore year.

The closer the world championship came, the sadder you sounded.

“What if I-”

Your dad stopped you. “Don’t even finish that sentence. What have I always said?”

You hugged the phone to your ear, rolling your suitcase back and forth between your legs in the airport terminal. “Bug,” your dad said after a moment’s silence.

You groaned. “We don’t say ‘what-ifs’. We say ‘what is’.”

“And what’s going to happen.”

You looked over to your team lead, soundly napping in the corner. It was the butt crack of dawn, and both of you had gotten to the airport way too early for your liking to make sure you didn’t miss your flight. Your first international flight. You actually had a passport, like??? 

So much had gone into getting you here.

Energy. Time. Effort. Trust. Encouragement.

People were rooting for you. They wanted to see you win. You wanted to see you win. 

“I’m gonna do my best.”

“Then you’re already a winner, Bug.”

God, your dad was gushy. And God, you loved him for it.

You didn’t feel so bad by the time you watched the sunrise in full bloom through your airplane window.

Pink, orange, and yellow washed over your face, making you feel so small. It wasn’t your first time in the sky, but definitely the most nervous you’d been.

Local papers, blogs, and newsletters featured your name—people knew you now; they had expectations.

A reputation had been made, and now you were in the fight of your life to keep it.

You sighed into your palm with your dad’s words in mind.

David was determined to take Goliath down.

Belgium.was.cold.

Like you hadn’t packed nearly thick enough coats type of cold.

You felt like an idiot. 

You were a lyrical genius but couldn’t even put ‘Belgium in December’ and ‘it might be freezing’ together. But the lobby of your quaint little hotel with hot chocolate on tap was warm and inviting.

Your team lead handed you a cup, and you found yourself missing your teammates. They would have loved this and cheering you on at the top of their lungs.

The feeling was lonely—nerve-wracking.

You were in the beautiful country of Germany for a competition, not leisure, so you couldn’t even relish in the fact that you were overseas.

At least the food was good. Nervous eating made you binge until you felt sick the night before the competition, but a quick stroll in the brisk morning air made you feel better.

The bus ride to the venue felt like you were about to hop into a boxing ring. And the gloves were off.

Crossing the threshold into a space full of chosen people was like marveling at the diamonds of top-society. And you were one of them. Your team lead walked by and closed your gaping mouth with a smile. “Chin up, dear.” And disappeared into the crowd.

You'd never met a foreigner before and were thrust into a venue full of different skin tones, accents, languages, and ages. It would’ve been even more overwhelming had it not been for the smell of coffee wafting through the air, reminding you of your last safe space for poetry before you went pro. With half an hour left until the competition, you thought exploring a little wouldn’t be a bad idea.  

The venue was dark and moody, perfect for setting the atmosphere and circulating the rising tension in your body. The main stage basked against the background of darkness under a single warm light that cast a circular glow.

Your final destination.

His burial sight. 

Suguru was nowhere to be found, but by the looks of the thick crowd shuffling in to fill their seats, it was easy to get lost. You met back with your team lead to run your rhythms a few more times. 

“Please don’t say it.” And she laughs, giving you a small nod and shoulder squeeze.

You still hear it in your head. You’ve got this.

But man, were these poets giving you a run for your money.

It was exhilarating and terrifying—a glaring reminder of why you were here among the best.

Translations were available on the screens behind the performers as you ping-ponged between their words and their expressions. Both demanded your attention and the crowd’s.

But so did you and Suguru when you both breezed through the semifinals.

For a second, you thought he hadn’t made it to the venue at all when you looked for him during your performance. But he let you and everyone else know he was in the building when he graced that stage. A hush fell over the space, and even you felt your face go soft while watching him.

He more than deserved that advance, but you weren’t done just yet.

After a brief intermission—the DJ wasn’t playing any games—you turned the corner to line up for the final round when you collided at 100mph with Suguru. 

“Fu— oh.” You held your arm as you looked at him—really taking him in.

When he was on stage, you noticed he wasn’t in his usual uniform, but up close, the alternative was definitely a choice. The loose black tee ruffled as he smoothed his bang. 

“Sorry.” 

He rubbed his shoulder and kept his eyes low. His hands stuffed into his black cargos as he looked away, not wanting to upset you. Or see the look of resentment on your face.

You could tell he knew he made you uncomfortable, but you didn’t know how different he wished things could have been.

Hurt was written all over the face of your childhood best friend, and you never knew Suguru to be upset about anything. 

You cleared your throat. “Good luck.”

His head drew back like he’d seen a ghost.

His lips parted.

Then he kind of smiled, leaning against the wall—looking at you for a moment.

You were so grown up and had accomplished so much.

Suguru was fully aware that you hated his guts and was so proud of you—even if you didn’t need him anymore. 

He reached out to shake your hand. “Good luck, Twin.” 

Your heart thumped—no one had called you that in 4 years—sweet and low from honeyed lips.

Suguru’s hand lingered in your air for a second before you gingerly took it.

Soft and warm.

Just like you remembered but stronger—firmer.

The gloves were off for him, too.

Things were done a bit differently for the final rounds. Instead of holding deliberations for the end of the rounds after everyone had gone, everyone got their votes front and center from five random audience members.

Paddles would fly in the air, displaying the scores to be tallied up and held until the end.

Thank God you could do quick math. Numbers were racking up—bone-chilling talent was on full display.

You were amazed, laughing, shocked. Every set was different from the last.

The crowd fell into a hush when one guy came on stage and laid straight down. Bareback to ground. Then fired off rhythmic jokes that made you laugh at some and ponder the seriousness of others.

Dark humor often has truth in it. 

Most sets were in a completely different language yet spoken so beautifully that you dug your nails into your palms to keep from crying. Emotion was universal. And you were feeling a lot of them.

Suguru walking onto the stage snapped you out of it as you watched from the other side of it. 

Though you’d just seen him a few minutes ago, this was a completely different light. Something had shifted.

Nice to meet you My name is Suguru Oh really? So is mine! It’s nice to meet you too.

Tell me what you’re like, what do you like to do? Lately, I’m not sure Was hoping for a breakthrough

In a world where masks are sticky and glue I’m lost in a maze with no clear view Doubt will cling like morning dew Caught in the storm of shifting hues

If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought Suguru was having a mental breakdown.

Your jaw tightened, clothes fidgeting between your fingers.

It was the most unexpected thing you could’ve imagined. And this was just the beginning of the journey through his paradoxical mind.

His ship was sinking. And he was taking you all down with him.

…I wear many faces each one feels new, But none will fit like I want it to Left with a voice that's small and untrue Burying deep I don't know what to do

In this mirror, I’m searching for clues, But this reflection is oddly askew. You scream through the glass, “Stay real and stay true!” But if you’re me, then…who are you?

You could hear a pin drop.

Suguru stopped breathing.

He couldn’t believe that he actually did it. He had never been so vulnerable.

If you thought you knew him and what he was going through before, you were left stunned and corrected.

A few of his scores floated into the air, and though you couldn’t see them all, the few you did were perfect 10s.

It would’ve been hell to go directly after that—thankfully, you had a few more people before you. 

Time crept closer and closer to your set—nervous sweats and fidgeting fingers kept you company.

So much for keeping a hobby a hobby, you thought, pacing backstage.

This wasn’t fun for you anymore; it was always supposed to be fun, easy, natural.

But this was no longer just about you.

It never was.

It was about proving anyone who ever doubted wrong.  

When the host called your name, you made those 3 minutes on stage feel like your last.

Rain, rain don’t go away, You’re the only one who stays, Cross my heart and hope to die I promise that I will not cry

Build and build and There it goes! All for naught and just for show Hypnotize your guards to grave Leave the trust to fade away

This was your final plea to be heard by the world if you had ever made one.

A letter to those who ever dismissed, ignored, or left you.

Fire and brimstone poured from the pit of your soul—served up on a plate with the audience in mind but Suguru as the guest of honor. 

You thought he’d be away in the dressing room or at least within earshot, but no. He stood tall and bright, leaning against the door frame that led out to the hall, backlit by the warm lights that framed his figure, watching.

Listening.

Knowing the poem was partially about him.

You hoped it hurt him as much to hear it as it did for you to write it.

Deep breaths kept your voice steady—he wouldn’t hear it crack this time as you powered through your trembles. Bold and brash. Unleashing your truth.

He saw it in your eyes and unconsciously did the only thing he knew to support you, the beginning of your connection—trust that blossomed into turmoil. The small nod of approval. 

Years had passed.

Envy had pushed you to avoid him.

He accepted that you no longer saw him as a friend.

Yet he still wanted to show his support. 

And it pissed you off.

…Lo and behold the savior's light Here to take another flight Take me by my desperate hand Lead me how you only can Fragile like a gentle rose I will follow where you go.

Shadows whisper of the known What I am. I am alone...

You walked off stage before you could see your final scores.

Whatever would be was now out of your hands—the relief felt agonizingly sweet.

Your team lead wrapped you in her arms as you silently cried. You didn’t know how long the tears had been building up, but the release was like a dam burst.

Crying on your first international trip to Belgium.

Nice. 

A final intermission was left, and the scores were tallied. You guzzled down some water and took a few breaths before meeting the rest of the contestants. Finally, finally, you and Suguru stood side by side again on stage. Your entire history had built up to this moment—ready to declare a winner. Ready to determine whether you finally caught up.

His pinky brushed yours, sending sparks to your belly like that day on his porch.

Head down, you waited for a name to be called.

Any name, every name, would be better than—

“Suguru Geto.”

Naturally rolling off their tongue.

Suguru stiffened beside you like he couldn’t believe it himself as they motioned for him to come forward. In your mind, everything went quiet. You couldn’t feel anything but emptiness in the pit of your stomach. Not even anger.

Before he moved a muscle to claim the spotlight, he turned to you, daring to offer his hand again. But it felt less like a “Job well done!” and more like a pitiful “I’m sorry.” And you had had enough of condolences. 

You turned away and left the stage in the midst of the raging applause for Suguru. No one else may have caught the cold shoulder, but to Suguru, it felt like he was trapped in ice. He could leave your life forever now for all you cared.

This was your one, final chance to make things even between you two.

But reality was a bitch.

You couldn’t get away from him quick enough.

Yes, you’ve gotten to travel the country. Yes, you got the opportunity of a lifetime to go overseas just off your hard work alone, but all of that meant nothing if you were only second best. 

It was redundant. 

What was even the point in trying? You would never be good enough to stand on your own. Always under his shadow, drowning in his wake.

It wasn’t.fucking.fair.

You brushed past your team lead, contestants—anyone trying to tell you how amazing you did. You couldn’t stand being bathed in lies and beelined out the back of the venue. 

“Fuck this.” You choked back tears, breath escaping you as you pushed the door open.

The contrast of sharp, cold air whipped your face, making you realize you didn’t grab your jacket, but it was just what you needed to set the gravity of your situation in. 

You were nothing. 

You bawled your fists.

And foolish for trying. 

Hyperventilating.

Look at what you came from. Look at what you get for trying to change that.

Hot, fat tears spilled down your face as you huddled in a corner of the building. You wrapped your arms around your knees, trying to shield the icy winds, but you already felt dead inside. Pathetic and worthless. It was out of your hands to change that.

A voice called after you, belonging to the last person you wanted to see right now. That soft, angelic voice that swooned the world and made your insides boil. Why couldn’t he just get it?? Why couldn’t he stay the fuck away??

You thought you had hidden yourself well by putting a bit of distance between the exit and the corner you tucked into, but he found you in seconds, tears dried on your face, crouching into your knees.

He stood there gaping, completely overwhelmed by the state of you.

For once, he was out of words.

“Well??” It was hoarse and cracking. 

“I-I’m—”

“Oh my God, pLEASE fucking save it!” You shook, burying your head into your arms.

It was enough that he got to bask in your pathetic breakdown with front-row seats. He didn’t need to pretend he didn’t enjoy it.

But Suguru was fed up with your bullshit and came looking to tell you about it. The final straw was leaving his extension of sympathy high and dry as you walked off stage. Giving him the ultimate “fuck you” in his moment of congratulations. 

He never understood why you hated him—the resentment, what happened, what he’d done. But he was about to make you explain yourself. 

“Get up.” Gentleness left his voice.

He came closer and towered over your petite frame, cornering you so you couldn’t run away. “You think I don’t know how much this meant to you?”

When you didn’t answer, he crouched down to your level. 

“Hey.” 

You buried yourself deeper. 

“Hey.”

“Don’t touch me.” You brushed him away, pressing your back into the wall as you stood up, shivering in the wind.

But it felt like you had punched him in the gut.

He had never seen you so bothered before, and the revelation that you were pointing the finger and naming him the culprit made his chest feel tight. It felt worse attempting to bury your heart on your sleeve. But the extent of your scorn was on full display.

After a moment of looking your bitterness in the face, it finally clicked for Suguru.

Why you hated him. Couldn't stand to look at him. Avoided him.

Why you started all of this competitive bullshit in the first place.

The root of it was more painfully obvious to see than the daggers in your eyes. What else could it be?

“You’re jealous.”

And that set you off.

“HA!” It almost hurt to laugh. “Jealous?!”

People could probably hear you inside the venue. But Suguru knew just what to say to get you to talk. 

“This whole time, I thought you were upset because I left, but…you’re just jealous.”

You snorted. “You’ve never worked hard a day in your life.”

“What? You don’t think I earned this?”

“Who knows? Mommy buys you everything.”

“Woah,” he held up a hand and laughed, “Is that what this is about?” 

Your cheeks burned hot, but you had egg on your face and had just spilled the beans. But fire still raged in your chest.

“You could have had anything else. Anything! Anything in the world, but you just had to take this from me!”

“How was I supposed to know??” he cut you off, “You stopped talking to me.” 

You felt a pang and fell silent—flurries of unread texts, unopened Snaps, and missed calls played in both of your minds. 

“How was I supposed to know anything? How was I supposed to have anything without making you feel bad?” 

“Me?” You scoffed. “Without me, you’d probably still be sitting on that dusty ass porch (you loved that porch), watching everyone go and fucking live life.”

“I was like 7.”

“9.” You rubbed the blooming goosebumps on your arms.

“Whatever, you think I owe you or something? You want a ‘thank you’?”

His tone made you shift, but you puffed up your chest.

“No, I don’t need a thank you." Your eyes narrowed. “I’m just not that impressed.”

Oh?

He scoffed, backing away with a smirk, arms swinging as he looked away then back at you. “You’re full of it.”

“You’re not that talented.”

He cocked his head, raising a brow. You were questioning his talent—clearly emotional and spewing lies—but it was a shot at his reputation nonetheless. 

His smirk faltered as he clasped his hands. “You wanna go?” And then he got closer. Your breath caught as he studied your face, his left arm shooting out to frame you, pinning you into the corner.

The heat radiating off his body should have been a comfort in the frosty air, but fuck, you also felt other things that raced your heart and made you hate yourself. 

He leaned over you. “How would you like to eat your words? Fried? Or sautéed?”

His eyes bore into yours, daring you to buck up or back down. But just because he finally had the balls to challenge you and take up space didn't mean you were intimidated.

He was the same little boy he'd always been.

And you were quick to remind him.

“Bite me, Get—”

Instead, he kissed, capturing your lips in a way that shot electricity down your spine and stole the breath and shriek right out of your body.

In an instant, you swore your pupils morphed into hearts. For so long, he's wanted to do that—kiss your sweet, supple lips that ramble nonsense and shut you up—bridge the gap between your broken friendship to ask for more, to make all your fire, resistance, and anger melt away...so you could come back to him.

Knees weak, you nearly staggered, scrambling for the walls to keep you up, but was saved by his hand cradling your hip to hold you. Keep you. Protect you. Your heart burst.

You pulled away, eyes heavy. Leaving a sliver of space between your lips to see your heated breaths mingling in the chilly air as he rested his forehead against yours. Softly, you cradled his face in your hand, feeling waves of longing swell through your body—his had already burst. Then you slapped him.

“How’s that for poetry?” And left. 

extended angel's note: this story took a TOTALLY different turn from what i originally planned (thanks Mac Miller) but omg it's sO much better and kinda fits into all of the sugu angst i have planned (oh how i love to hurt myself so). this story in particular was supposed to be like all smut and no exposition but um…things happen 😅 sO, all of the low-angst, ‘enemies’ to lovers lives in part 1, with a focus on the resolution in part 2: lovers who give in and chose each other arc while remaining focused on my original goal of making a smut that spotlights and actualizes realistic sex. learning each other, listening, patiently growing, and choosing.

[ur-local-wizard]

Ink & Ivy

When you start a seemingly regular shift at Ink & Ivy, a new bookstore, an old friend's prank backfires.

fluff, fluff, FLUFF!!!! brother's best friend (kinda? like 2 sentences), graduated au, hufflepuff reader, characters are adults, mattheo riddle x fem!reader, i think that's it

w/c: 1k

masterlist

a/n: sorry this took so long to put out! it's just my first fic I'm putting out there so i was getting really finicky

The ding of the front door rings through the book shop. Icy wind blows at your hair, abruptly being cut off as the door shuts behind you. Relishing in the warmth of the fire burning in the corner of Ink & Ivy’s front room, your footsteps sound off the creaky wooden floors.

The place smells like parchment and coffee, and as you walk down the hall to the employee’s break room, you pause as a shelf catches your eye. It looks oddly empty. “Why didn’t Susan restock last night?” You whisper to yourself as you resume your walk to the break room. Susan Bones was a fellow Hufflepuff during your time at Hogwarts, and although you two never talked during school – your brother Theo always dragging you along to participate in some stupid prank – you two became good acquaintances after you applied for this job.

After shedding your winter attire in the break room, you clock in. The hours tick by, and that empty shelf keeps nagging at you. Shooting a glance out the window, you determine that now is a good time to journey to the stockroom. It looks like nobody is going to venture in any time soon, so you might as well do something useful.

The door to the storeroom squeaks as it opens, and you stop in your tracks. A head of curly brown hair was poking through a window. “What the fuck-” 

He looks up, and you instantly recognize your brother’s best friend. It’s Mattheo, the boy who would always tease you at school. You haven’t seen him since you graduated three months ago. 

“Oh- Well- I-” He stutters, clearly caught off guard. 

“Mattheo, you don’t even work here. Get out of the damn window so you can explain yourself.”

You watch as he awkwardly maneuvers himself through the window, dusting himself off as he stands up to his full height. You can’t help but giggle when you see his sour expression. 

“What?” He asks, his tone defensive. 

“Nothing. You’re just ridiculous. But I’m not surprised; you have been since we met in first year.”

After reading a label on a box and making sure it’s the right one, you pick it up and begin to walk back to the front room of the shop. Surprised, Mattheo scurries after you. 

“I wanted to play a little prank,” he explains as the two of you walk down the short hallway. You stop in front of the empty shelf from earlier and set the box down, intent on restocking it. “And I haven’t seen you all summer. Would it be weird to say that I missed you?” He asks sheepishly, making you stop in your tracks, looking over at the man next to you. 

Putting the book you were holding back in its box, and you study his expression. He looks embarrassed. Maybe a little nervous, even. “Why?” You ask, ignoring the hope fluttering in your heart. 

You’ve had a silly crush on him ever since he bought you an expensive quill you wanted in sixth year. And now that he’s standing in front of you after visiting out of his own free will, saying you’re flustered would be an understatement. 

“Your reactions are adorable when I tease you. And that one time when we replaced your wand with a trick one, your reaction was priceless.” 

You swat his arm in frustration, retorting, “That wasn’t funny! McGonagall got so upset with me. I was afraid I was going to get detention because she thought I wasn’t taking class seriously.”

He laughs, but his expression seems to soften. “Sorry, princess. Didn’t realize it got you into trouble. But what can I say? I don’t regret it.” 

You huff and roll your eyes, but stay quiet. It’s in the past now, no use saying anything. The two of you restock the shelves, and before you know it, the shelf is full again. “I’ll take this box back to the storeroom. You go back to the register, ‘mkay?” 

You nod and let him take the box to the back, heading for the register like he said. It’s not long before he’s standing in front of you again, his elbow on the table, hand perched in his palm. 

You raise your eyebrow, “What now?” 

“Just looking.” He stands back up. “I remember you used to read all the time... What have you been reading lately? Any books you’ve been eyeing?” He asks, looking at you expectantly. 

You sigh and tell him what you’ve been reading, along with explaining that your TBR is endless. “I can’t decide on anything,” you complain. 

“Well then send it to me. I’ll decide for you.” He pauses before speaking again. “You get commission, right?”

“Uh… yeah. Why?”

“Let me buy you a book.” He’s smiling like an idiot, and it makes you blush a bit.

“You’re kidding.”

“You think I’m kidding? Darling, I’ve had a thing for you since fifth year. I like buying you presents. Hasn’t it been obvious?” His blunt confession makes your jaw drop, cheeks burn, and butterflies break out of the cage you so painstakingly put them in. “And I would say you share the same feelings, if the blush on your cheeks is anything to go by.”

Your mouth opens and closes as you look for something to say, shocked by his bold words. “Why tell me now?” Your voice is quieter than you intended it to be, and his expression softens. He walks around the counter to stand next to you and gently puts a hand on your cheek, making you look up at him. “Theo isn’t here to pound me into a pulp for falling for you anymore,” he explains, chuckling. “And he can’t stop me from doing this." With that, he presses a soft kiss to your lips, holding your face in his hands. The kiss is chaste, nothing too crazy, as if he’s afraid of pressuring you. 

As he pulls away, you look at him with wide eyes, watching as he grins at you like a school boy. “So what book do you want me to buy?”

Ty for reading! I hope you liked it <3 Let me know if there's something I need to fix, and if you wanted to be added to the tag list let me know!!

©ur-local-wizard translating, republishing, copying, or claiming my work as yours is not permitted. all my work belongs to me and me only. thank you!

[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @star-rie a little fluff to celebrate I reached 200 followers 🥺🤧. Thank you so much! I love you all! ♥️♥️

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 (You're here) , PART 11

A little more of "The Mark of Nimueh"

Arthur: (Knocks the door to Gaius's Tower) Merlin!

Merlin: (opens the door) I'm on my way. Sorry I'm late.

Arthur: (Smiles at the feeling of deja vu) Don't worry. I'm getting used to it. (stops smiling when he notices the flowers on Merlin's neckerchief)

Merlin: Oh, uh. (pulls out the flowers) Gwen gave it to me.

Arthur: (jealous) You two are pretty close aren't you?

Merlin: (confused at Arthur's sudden question) Uhm.. Yeah, I guess? I mean, we just known each other for a couple of weeks so-

Arthur: Do you like flowers?

Merlin: Uhm... I do actually (smiles a little). They're a nice gesture but...

Arthur: But?

Merlin: It's sad they have to cut them. Just to die in days time. (thinking) Why did you say that?! He's going to think you're a sappy petticoat now! 😖

Arthur: (points the flowers) And you like forget me nots?

Merlin: I love them! 😊(puts the flowers back in his neckerchief). Not that I think the other flowers aren't beautiful. But there aren't many that are purple and-

Arthur: And you like purple.

Merlin: Yeah... (blushes, thinking) Why are we talking about what flowers I like? He never asked me that before.

Gaius: (interrumping) Sire? Do you have a message for me or...?

Arthur: (blushes) Oh, right. My father wants to see you inmediatly.

Time skip. Merlin and Arthur fighting with the Afanc.

Afanc: (Throws Arthur aside)

Merlin: Arthur! (runs infront of him and raises his torch to the beast, ready to use his wind spell)

Afanc: (blows the flame)

Merlin: Oh, fuck. (falls on his back when the beast aproaches him)

Arthur: Merlin! (covers him with his body)

Merlin: Your torch! Arthur, your torch! (points the fallen torch that fortunatly still has a little flame)

Arthur: (grabs it and raises it at the beast while still on top of Merlin)

Merlin: (thinking the spell so Arthur can't hear him) Lyfte ic þe in balwen ac forhienan se wideor!

Afanc: (is set on fire and dies)

Arthur: (turns to Merlin and gets to see just a bit of the gold in his eyes before it dissapears, thinking as he catches his breath) So this was also you.

Merlin: (Catching his breath but also nervous, cause Arthur is still on top of him and keeps looking at him directly in the eye) Ar...Arthur?

Arthur: (caress Merlin's face, concerned) Are you okay?

Merlin: (Nods, red to his ears) Ahm... could you...?😳

Arthur: Oh, right. Sorry. (stands up and helps Merlin to stand up)

Merlin: (covers his embarrasment with anger) You! You can't keep putting yourself at risk like that! 😡

Arthur: (shouts back) I could tell you the same thing! You came here to fight the beast alone, didn't you? Why didn't you come to me? (thinking) As you did last time.

Merlin: I had it under control! I just needed fire to defeat it (thinking) And wind and magic. But you can't know that! (says) I didn't want to put you in innecessary danger!

Arthur: (in shock for a second but then smirks) You care about me?

Merlin: (red again) N-No. But I can't keep my job if my master is dead!

Arthur: So you love being my servant.😏

Merlin: I... 😳(thinking) WHAT IS HAPPENNING?! 😨😱(says) It pays well 😠. (starts leaving as dignified as he can)

Arthur: The exit is the other way.

Merlin: I knew that! 😡 (goes the other way)

Arthur: (laughs a little and follows him, thinking) Do you love me already? When exactly did you fall in love with me?

Time skip. Merlin enters his room and finds a purple lily in a pot next to his bed. Surprised and confused, Merlin reads the note next to it. The note says "There are many purple flowers you just have to look for them carefully. Here is one in a pot so it doesn't die, but knowing it's under your care I bet it'll last a few days anyways. Don't go into danger alone again. Atte Arthur".

Merlin: (puts the lily back in the table and sits on his bed calmly... and then sinks his face in a pillow to scream)

[pinecipitation]

Pine,,,, smiling friends headcanons, how do you think each of the boys would react to their crush saying they feel safe with them :> if not all of them, your boy Alan and Charlie and Pim (asking for us both im shaking)

SMILING FRIENDS X GN!READER HCS

FIRST OF ALL,,,, HAIIII TEDDYYYY :3 ❤️💛 HELLO WIFE HI LOML…

second of all YESSS SMILING FRIENDS CONTENT WE R SO BACKKK let me get to work ‼️

word count: around 1.2k

authors note: oh my god this was in the works for like a month, I be procrastinating really hard i’m sorry gang 😔🤞 also I’m so sorry alans is so short despite him being my favorite one I’m fighting for my life in here man

CHARLIE: (s1e6)

charlie… is almost relieved to hear it, honestly would immediately flip a switch and do the very most to KEEP you as safe as you can be- but hide it in a playful manner. would carry you for the rest of your life if you asked, just because you inflated his ego.

The two of you are almost halfway in the enchanted forest, you walking in front of Charlie as you hold a little makeshift map in front of the two of you. The whole time Charlie is pointing out little shortcuts, you erasing and drawing paths over and over on the paper until a particularly strong gust of wind blow it away from the two of you, his shocked mouth open and yours would’ve opened if the pencil wasn’t still in your mouth. You didn’t want to say it, but you felt a little aggravated at him for losing your focus like that.

You stop to let him speed up in front of you, the two of you continuing onwards in silence before he speaks.

“Listen… I-“

“It’s fine, you go and I follow. I trust you.”

The minute those words left your mouth, Charlie immediately stops and turns to look at you, the clinks and clanks of his armor making it almost comedic.

“What?”

“…I said you could lead the way?-“

“No,” he shakes his head, the helmet shifting with him, “After that.”

You look at him quizzically, your arms awkward by your side as you look to the side then to him again.

“I trust you?”

What you couldn’t see was Charlie internally squealing like a little girl, happy that someone like you can allow themselves to be so carefree around him. Except you weren’t just someone; he’s unknowingly had a thing for you long enough to where it’s embarrassing that he hasn’t made a move. But, somehow, you telling him that made him understand why he got so nervous around you. Why he always felt let down whenever you had a different mission that day and couldn’t hang with him and Pim. Why he always slightly pulled aside the seat next to him in the office just so you’d sit next to him instead of across.

He finally realized he liked you.

But of course, he’d never say that out loud.

What he did do, however, was immediately grin and flex, his armor audibly showing him move as if he were showing off in a gym mirror.

“Well of course you do, I’d be concerned if you didn’t think a hero like me could protect you. I mean, look at me,” he plays along, successfully earning a chuckle from you before you roll your eyes and shift the bag on your shoulder before you keep moving ahead.

“Alright, hero- hey-!” Your joking manner was cut short as Charlie picks you up, flinging you over his shoulder as his laugh rockets off the trees around the two of you.

Your giggles and pleas to be let down drowned out as he thought about that sentence once more, thinking about what to do to hopefully hearing it again another time.

PIM: (s1e4)

pim….. he’d be so happy, would internally have a little panicked spongebob brain moment but on the outside he’s a stuttering blushing mess. as if he isn’t pink enough.

“Don’t worry, i’ll use this rock to mark the trees- we can find our way back easy!”

Pims words seemed like an echo, his happy go easy personality twenty minutes ago almost feeling like a warning now that the two of you crossed that bridge. The two of you just barely escaped the rain, logs and sticks discarded as the rickety cabin door you called shelter slammed shut.

You were both dripping, Pims cowboy outfit making wet stretching noises every time he stretched his leg or raised his arm. Your outfit was also drenched, a small rip or two from the thorns you pulled away from on the run here.

You were still kneeled over catching your breath as the thunder pursued outside, Pim shakingly clearing his throat before looking up at you with disappointed eyes.

“Listen,… I’m really sorry, I didn’t think it would rain or anything but even then I shouldn’t have taken us across the bridge, and now it’s my fault we’re here-,” he begins, his wet hat now in his hands as he stares down at his cowboy spurs. He only really looked up once he hears you interrupted him with a laugh, a sound he immediately feels his cheeks redden to.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a little rain. We’ll be okay- plus, I feel safe with you. I know we’ll make it back fine.”

You were facing down trying to wring the water out of your hair and costume, thinking nothing of it, but to Pim?

To Pim, it meant everything.

He immediately stopped, his eyes widening as he stares at you with his mouth slightly ajar, the redness in his cheeks instantly spreading to his nose and ears. It took two or three tries for him to get his words out, the clothes on him somehow feeling tighter the more he tried to express himself.

“You… you trust me??” The way his meek voice instantly made you straighten up and look at him, the barely there water in his eye almost making you feel guilty for saying it.

Immediately you went to go hold him, your hands wrapping around his back as he listens to you giggle out a ‘Of course! Pim, are you okay?’ and he nods in return. His hands interlock together behind your back, his cheek on your shoulder as he thanks you.

ALAN: (s2e3)

alan… my wife.. would definitely think about asking if you’re SURE. in that case, he’s taken it upon himself to keep his eyes on you like a HAWK, unfortunately intimidating everyone around the two of you.

You seem to feel oddly safe perusing the streets of CrimeVille, thinking back on everyone’s warnings of how dangerous the place was. This is too easy, you think, feeling like everyone was just exaggerating the state of where you two were. What you didn’t realize, however, was Alan shooting everyone the stink eye of the century as he walks behind you.

It wasn’t too long ago when you two left the OfficeCrap, the following conversation unexpected as you both walked out.

“I can do it myself, I don’t want you going to that part of town…” Alan mumbles, the soft mechanic noise of the sliding door behind you helping end his sentence. You only shake your head, shushing him before pronouncing how you’ll be fine, and you trust him to protecting you if anything.

Unbeknownst to you, that’s the only thing Alan’s been thinking about since you left. Fortunately for Alan, being tall and having a somewhat stoic resting facial expression, he was very easy to intimidate anyone looking at you.

He almost walked like your shadow, hands in his pocket as he walks over you like a protective red totem, his blue tie occasionally brushing the top of your head as he looms over everything.

[njstokkis]

paradise

Kim minji x gn!reader

synopsis: a quiet day at home spent with food and laughter.

word count: 1k+

warnings: fluff; kim minji being domestic; overall just kinda lovey-dovey; horrible grammar, HORRIBLE HORRIBLE grammar (im so sorry); kinda proofread (?); idk i wrote this on my phone at 4 in the morning; short as hell mb :')

a/n: hiiii, this is my first time posting here, trying to build up my confidence in the writing department 😔, and i thought why not start with something nice like this, it's probably not any good but I tried. thank you in advance for reading!!!

the small breeze sifts through the half opened windows, curtains flowing slightly from the calm wind gently blowing against it. sunlight beamed into the crevices of your eyelids, slowly seeping into your senses.

you shift, attempting to cover yourself with your blanket with knitted brows, you reach over to the other side of the bed, patting it aimlessly in search of your lover to cling onto, but you find nothing in the midst.

letting out a low grumble at the loss, you bring your hands to your face. digging your palms in your eyes, attempting to rub the sleep out. still you let out multitudes of groans and sighs as you stretch, bones emiting a mild cracking noise as you reach up with your hands, mouth agape as you yawn.

you let out a puff of air as you relax against the comfort of your bed, flopping down your limbs dramatically. the warmth of your blanket suddenly not providing as much consolation as it did. you blink rapidly, trying to adjust to the harsh sunlight through the drawn-open curtains. you look over to the side, hoping that there's a chance that you just dreamt of her not being beside you, but alas, you find nothing, her side of the bed cold in contrast to the current sunlight.

you reluctantly pull the blankets off your body, shivering at the sudden change of temperature. sitting up, you rub your palms together, trying to create warmth as you yawn a second time. after hyping yourself up to get out of your 'bed nest', you swing your feet off your bed. your sole touching the cold hardwood flooring of your apartment. you hiss, immediately lifting your feet back up, glaring your bleary eyes down at the floor in betrayal upon ultimately finding your fuzzy slippers all the way across the room. cursing under your breath, you narrowly navigate the floor tiles 'the floor is lava' style, keeping yourself up on your tippy toes.

slipping into your source of warmth, you sluggishly swing the bedroom door open, dragging yourself forward to find your lover.

you sniff at the slight scent of food wafting through the air. you immediately perk up at the quiet whirling of the coffee machine and the sounds of music softly playing, you venture towards the source of the clatter.

you find minji in the open kitchen, back turned towards you, dressed in a casual t-shirt and shorts, one side of her collar unadjusted as it hangs off the edge of her shoulder. she faces the stove, her hands carefully adjusting the pan. you smile unconsciously as you see the Korean girl bopping her head along with the beat of the music, occasionally doing small little dance moves. nose scrunched as she focuses on not burning the food. chuckling quietly to yourself, you walk over to her, wrapping your arms around her middle and nuzzling you head in her neck.

she yelps, flinching slightly, "woah, you scared me!"

you let out a laugh, giggling at her reaction, "oh c'mon you big baby," you tease, voice raspy from sleep, "whatcha makin'?"

"tteokbokki," she smiles, pushing her glasses up slightly (UGHHHH omg sorry) with one hand, and the other gently caressing your knuckles.

you let out a content sigh, happy to be free of the burdens of working for a day, closing your eyes and melting further into minji as she continues her ministrations on the pan, using a spatula to poke the rice cakes once in a while.

"you okay, love?" minji says after a period of silence. glancing behind her to catch a glimpse of your face.

"mm...just wanna stay like this for a while," you grumble tiredly, "still waking up..."

minji chuckles, "well you're gonna have to move a little cause im done cooking,"

you let out a small hum, but still clings onto minji as she stiffly moves to plate the food, thanks to the human attached to her back. you giggle tiredly as she struggles to move, grunting dramatically with every step she takes, "dear..." she playfully whines as you finally give up, giving her one last squeeze as you release her from your hold, letting her continue filling the bowl with your respective breakfasts.

while she was occupied with the food, you get busy setting the table for the two of you, the action slowly becoming a tradition for you both as you alternate on setting the table and making breakfast on your off days.

you move to a drawer in the kitchen, pulling it open as you idly search for the utensils needed. ruffling around, you pick up forks and napkins and rinse them, setting them down on the coffee table.

you sniff, the sweet smell of tteokbokki fills the room as you move to sit on the couch, plopping down on the plush material, making sure the utensils set in front of you were in orderly fashion. you look at minji's form in anticipation as she (finally) finishes plating the food.

she walks towards the coffee table while balancing your cups and bowls and you move slightly from your place on the couch to help guide her hands to the table safely, making sure she doesn't burn herself accidentally.

she sits next to you on the couch and immediately leans her head on your shoulder, letting out a small groan, entertwining your hands together. you chuckle, tilting your head to rest on hers aswell, but not before placing a chaste kiss on her head.

"eat?" you mumble after a small while, minji nods her head in response as she moves to pick up a fork, digging into her food while you do the same, with music softly playing in the background.

you nod slightly, smiling as you're impressed by her cooking, taking more frequent bites. almost finishing your meals, minji nods suddenly, and quite agressively, a satisfied hum slipping past her lips as she smiles, you look at her questioningly as she points to the food, "i really outdid myself here," she says smugly, wiggling her eyebrows at you, expecting a compliment.

"hmmm..." you pretend to think as you take another bite, "it could use more salt..." immediately, minji let's out a dragged out protest as she pushes your shoulder. you laugh heartily while she continues moving you back and forth by your shoulders, continuing her complaints.

"ahh, ahh, I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" you grinned.

"say it tastes good!" she tackles you on the couch, holding onto eachother as you cackle.

"it tastes good, it tastes good!" you get out despite the numerous attacks you've received.

its until then does she release you, chest heaving from laughter as she collapses on top of you, both still a giggling mess.

you wrap your arms around her, smiling softly as you both calm down, until only soft breathing is heard. she sighs and nuzzles into the crook of your neck, placing a kiss there with the upmost gentleness, "every morning I fall in love with you all over again."

and just like that, with meals forgotten, you both relish in the feeling of being in love, and being loved.

[dustpages]

Baby Blue Love

" Plié, plié, and a final pirouette." Mr. Lafayette instructed us to wrap up the endless last class of the week at the Opera de Paris.

Every step I took towards the dressing room was painful, my legs especially were wobbling given the intensity of this week's training. It was a year since I joined the Opera as a corps de ballet member, but it didn't make it any easier to cope with the sore muscles. 

I wrapped myself in my long puffed jacket and walked out of the Opera Garnier. It had rained all day long and the wind was hauling in the old cobblestone streets of the city, it was baltic.

I carefully descended the stoned stairs of the Opera, making my way towards the metro station. I couldn't bear to stay any longer than was necessary in that awful weather. 

The streets were almost deserted given the hour the training ended. I was concentrating on not falling on the slippery pavement when a feeble cry made me divert my eyes from my own feet. 

 I followed the sobbing sound finding just around a corner a small kid who was trying to protect himself from the wind. His face was angelic, his eyes were piercing blue and his hair was raven black and messy, it made him look like an abandoned puppy. He looked so helpless that my heart immediately melted. He couldn't be more than five years old.

The little boy stopped crying when he saw me approaching and looked at me curiously, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his dirty shirt. He had a blue blanket wrapped around him and some bread crumbs in his pocket. My heart sank at the sight of the poor thing. "Where are you from?" I asked him in my best French, even though he was not French. 

" I don't know." He said in a broken French accent, and then in a strong British accent. " I haven't got a clue."

I kneeled down beside him and gave him a soft smile. "Well, why don't you come with me? You can have some hot chocolate and we'll see what we can do."

His blue eyes lightened up at the mention of hot chocolate. "Really?"

" Of course." I said holding out my hand for him to grab. He held it strongly as if he was sure that I was going to be his saviour. I felt my heart clenching at the thought of him being all alone on the cold street. He was such a small creature, I wanted to protect him from everything, I wanted to keep him safe in my arms and never let go given that the world seemed to have already thrown him a 

 harsh blow.

We entered the metro and we found ourselves in a carriage, sitting on two seats. He kept shaking clearly intimidated by the people around us. I held his hand, which was freezing, trying to calm him down; it was pointless to do small talks in that context.

We reached our stop and I led him towards my flat, which was in the same arrondissement of the Opera.

I opened the door and welcomed him into my house, a newly renovated Haussmann flat with a Versailles parquet spreading all around. 

It was minimalistic furbished with white walls, and modern pieces of furniture. I pushed him inside, letting him warm up a bit. "You must be cold." I said unbuttoning my jacket, and giving it to him. 

I walked into the kitchen to make him some hot chocolate, it was the first thing that came to my mind in that situation. I knew nothing about him and I knew he would be hungry, but I wanted something warmer and sweeter than a normal meal.

When I returned to the living room he was sitting on my sofa, with my jacket on his shoulders. It was huge for him, it swallowed his small frame entirely, but it gave him a sense of warmth. He was so cute that I couldn't help myself but laugh at the sight.

I handed him the mug of hot chocolate and he devoured it hungrily, leaving some drops of the chocolate on his lips. I felt myself laughing again at the sight, I couldn't help myself he was the epitome of cuteness. 

" You are gonna stay here for the night, and tomorrow we will figure out what to do." I asserted composing myself. 

He just nodded at me. " Time for a warm bath." I took his hand in mine and led him to the bathroom. 

I filled the tub with water and added some bath salts, letting the sweet aroma fill the room. " Can you undress yourself?" I asked, feeling a bit embarrassed at the prospect of undressing such a little child.

" Affirmative ma'am." He answered and I left him in the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

I went into the guest room and retrieved some of my old clothes, that I had left there for my occasional guests. I brought them back into the bathroom and knocked gently. "Are you done?" I whispered.

"Yes."

I opened the door. He was standing naked in front of me, his small body dripping with water. His hair was glued to his forehead, and he had some water drops still on his body. His blue eyes looked at me shyly; he had his hands covering his pelvis area. "Don't be ashamed.” I said and took him by the hand.  

I handed him one of my old T-shirts and a pair of leggings. They were a bit too large for his small frame but he looked adorable nonetheless. He smiled shyly at me and I felt again my heart clenching. I took a towel and dried his hair, trying not to touch him more than necessary. His smell was that of innocence, it smelled like milk and bread and something sweeter. 

I dried his hair and helped him in getting dressed. He was still shaking so I grabbed his hand again, letting him feel my warmth. "Do you want to sleep with me?" I questioned him not wanting him to sleep all alone in one of my guest rooms.

" If you don't mind." he stated after a second of deep thought.  

"No, I don't mind at all." I smiled and we went into my bedroom. We slipped under the blanket together and I wrapped him in my arms, giving him a gentle hug. His body felt so tiny against mine, I felt the urge to protect him from the world, I could have been the one making his life better. 

I wasn't too old respect to him, I would have turned eighteen next March. I could have been his legal tutor, big sister or mum, I didn't care about the etiquette.

" Good night." He murmured, his voice still hoarse from the crying.

" Good night." I whispered and closed my eyes. I could feel his eyes on me, I could feel his breath on my neck, but I tried to fall asleep anyway. 

It took me some time, but I finally fell into a deep sleep lulled by the rhythm of his breath and his tiny hand resting on my shoulder. I didn't even wake up when he snuggled closer to me, letting his head rest on the crook of my neck. I just felt his tiny breath on my skin and I was gone.

I woke up in the middle of the night due to a scream, the little creature beside me was trembling all over, he was still asleep. He was crying and murmuring in his dream, his words were indistinguishable but his fear was clear. 

Holding him tight, I took him in my arms, rocking him from side to side as I would do with a doll. I whispered some comforting words, telling him that everything was okay, that he was safe now. That he would never be alone again. 

His eyes slowly opened, they were hazy with tears, he looked up at me with the expression of a lost puppy. " It's okay." I whispered holding his gaze with mine. "You're safe." I continued, I tried not to break eye contact, so he could feel my sincerity. 

 I wanted him to see that I was real, I wasn't part of his nightmare. 

After some time his breathing calmed down and he fell asleep again his tiny hand was grabbing mine, he was squeezing it softly. I wrapped myself around his small body, trying to give him the warmth he was craving. 

In the next few days with the help of my parents, I managed to adopt him even though I wasn't eighteen yet. My parents were the ones on paper who were his tutors.

He began living with me. I had to manage my time between the endless hours of dancing, my private school where I was about to graduate, my baby, and my boyfriend Claude.

I had mirrors at home. I was well aware of my appearance, I've always been pretty and growing older, I blossomed. Dancing for hours and hours each day gave me a slender and toned body. I could tell to have everything to strike hearths here and there, and I surely did, even though none of them had ever conquered mine. 

Claude had been with me for barely a few months, he was a bit older than me and not even particularly funny.

He was handsome though, tall with blonde hair and a nice body. Sex was satisfying as well, he was gifted but he lacked passion. 

We were having a late dinner in my flat, I was late from the dance class and my baby was already sleeping in his room.

" Do you want some more?" I asked him pointing to the plate of chicken in the middle of our table. He shook his head no.

" I don't get why you are ruining your life taking care of that little shit." he asserted. " Last time I got him while he was playing with me shoes, they were bloody expensive."

" He is just a kid, and you should be more patient." I retorted. " You scolded him for nothing; he cried all night."

" He is just a whimper." He offended my son.

" Would you keep going losing time or we fuck?" I tried to change the topic.

He didn't lose any time ripping my white wool carding apart, the silver buttons flew all around the kitchen. I had on a black and white checked skirt and white cotton short stockings. He cleared the table throwing plates and cutleries on the marble floor, cracking sounds echoed in the silence of the flat. 

Claude made me bend on the table, he positioned me behind me and lifted my skirt over my back.

" You'll get what you asked for." he spat on his dick and pushed into me, using his fingers to pull my panties aside.  I felt the tip of his dick sliding into my pussy, stretching me as he entered me fully. I moaned at the sudden intrusion, but he just started pumping inside me not waiting for me to adjust to his size. He took my hips and began pounding me with full force, I cried out in pain, I was not prepared. My legs were already hurting from the hours of dance and my pussy was dry, he was tearing me apart. I could hear him groaning behind me, I knew he was close to his peak. 

" Mina, I wetted the bed." I heard my son’s voice; he was standing naked on the kitchen door frame crying.

" You disgusting whimper get out of here." Claude yelled making my baby cry even more.

He gave me a few more pumps before I was able to push him back. " You are a dickhead." I offended him.

" At least I'm naturally gifted down there, not like that thing and his microscopic dick." he pointed to my son who was crying desperately. 

I dashed to my son kneeling in front of him,  letting my skirt fall down over my ass. I gathered him in a hug, trying to comfort him. He was trembling all over and he was looking at Claude with scared eyes. 

" Claude get the fuck out of here. We are done, for good." I stated standing up with my baby in my arms.

"  Well, I guess we won’t see again." He laughed grabbing his dick and shoving it in my face. “But it’s your loss nonetheless." 

I pushed him away, disgusted and closed the door on his face. 

As soon as we were alone my baby stopped crying, I felt a wave of relief.  " Everything is gonna be okay." I promised him. " Now let's get you some clean clothes and a new pair of undies."

I carried him into his bedroom and changed him into a new pair of clothes. I cleaned up the mess Claude made in the kitchen and then we had some tea with biscuits in the living room, my baby was fully awake unluckily I was dreaming of sleeping.

" Mum, what does it mean ' his microscopic dick'?" he quoted what that bastard of my ex told him.  I laughed a bit at the way he pronounced the curse word, and I realised that I should have been more careful of what I said in front of him.

" Baby, there's nothing wrong with your body. You  are still young and you'll grow up as time goes by." I explained to him. " That moron was trying to hurt you, he was jealous of your beauty." I hugged him tight in my arms.

He looked up at me curiously. " Am I really beautiful?" his voice sounded way too cute.

" Of course you are, you look just like me." I replied smiling at him.

I could see his eyes lightening up at my words. " I'm gonna sleep with you tonight." he asserted, he was trying to get under my blanket. 

I laughed and agreed, letting him climb on the bed beside me. We cuddled under the blanket, and we soon fell asleep.

We both slept like babies, my son's little hand was holding mine, and his head was resting on the crook of my arm. I felt him moving around in the middle of the night and I opened my eyes finding him on top of me. 

" Mum." he whispered his voice was so tiny and cute. 

" Yes?" I replied my voice hoarse from sleep.

" Milk." he uttered moving his lips on my naked chest. 

I realized what he meant and laughed at his innocence. " I can't give you milk." I whispered. 

His tiny and soft lips parted taking my nipple in, he had no clue what he was doing but it was feeling fantastic. 

He was sucking eagerly looking for milk, I could feel my nipples getting hard in his mouth. I was letting him do what he wanted, I was just enjoying the moment.

He stopped after a while looking at me curiously. I could read the confusion on his face, he didn't understand why there wasn't milk.

" Keep sucking baby, a magical fluid will come out if you do a good job." I was turned on and I was eager for more.

He nodded and started sucking me again, he took the other nipple in his mouth looking for a better luck.

His tongue was darting in and out of my nipple, he was making it hard as stone. His magnificent blue eyes were showing determination, I closed my arms around him. I could feel my pussy wetting and pulsating, I had never been so aroused.

His little body was hot on my skin. I used one hand to play with my clit, rubbing it slowly while his mouth was still busy with my nipples, with the other I gently touched his hair. 

He was giggling under my touch, my hand moved down his hand rubbing on his small back. His ass was round and perfect, it called for me to be spanked. 

I gave it a gentle slap. My son, who has kept doing his job adamantly, bit my nipple, sending a powerful wave of pleasure down my body. 

My cunt couldn't take it anymore, it convulsed around my fingers making me cum. I squirted on my bed making the sheets wet.

" Mum wetted the bed, like me." he laughed not understanding the whole thing. 

" Don't worry baby, you did a terrific job." I kissed his forehead. " Can I peck your lips, please?” 

He nodded shyly.

 " Close your eyes." I ordered, and he obeyed. 

I pressed my lips on him, they were soft and tasted like milk, I felt like I was eating him. He gasped and opened his mouth, I took advantage of that and slipped the tip of my tongue in, dancing it against his. He let out a moan and wrapped his arms around me, he started kissing me back with the same passion. He was letting me devour him, not that he could do otherwise. 

 I took my time, I wanted him to feel good. I wanted to kiss him to make him feel loved and appreciated. 

 I could feel the love for him growing up in my heart; he was my baby. 

….

Long story short, till the present time. Twelve years later.

I was the epitome of grace and beauty, not my words but of the Opera director. I had made my way through the vertical ladder of the ballet corps de ballet, becoming one of the best and most renowned dancers of the Opera de Paris, I had earned a lot of respect and money. 

Every night I performed I had a few suitors waiting for me at the exit of my changing room. Praising my mesmerizing face, my toned and long legs and my perfectly round butt. They would offer me the moon, but I only cared about getting home to my little boy.

 Nothing could compare to how beautiful I felt when he was around. He had grown up with the most piercing blue eyes and the same raven-black hair as mine. His smile was devastating and he had the body of a dancer.

His smile made my knees weak, his voice made my soul sing. He was the epitome of perfection, and he was all mine.

I had always thought that I had adopted him to save him, but now I realized that I had done it for myself. I had done it to save myself. From loneliness, from boredom, from a life without a purpose more than dancing.

I had routed him to become a classic dancer since he got adjusted to his new life with me, I tried my best to keep an eye on him without interfering with his development. I wasn't a teacher and the serious discipline I've been subjected to when I was younger had scarred me, and I didn't want to pass those scars on him.

Now that he was seventeen years old, I could tell he had become a good dancer. He was still raw in some areas, but in general I was proud of him. 

We were eating dinner at the dining table, it was another snowy night in Paris. His beautiful blue eyes stared at me for a good second, I had my hair still styled and the same fancy make-up that I wore all day for the commercial that the company was about to release before Christmas to promote the ballet activities. 

" Mina, you look breathtaking." he complimented me. It was rare for him to express his own thoughts. 

My cheeks flushed crimson red,  my body became all tingly, and my breath caught in my throat. 

" Thank you.” I murmured feeling the blush spreading all over my face and neck.

" It was just the truth." He declared with a small smirk. I swallowed hard trying not to make the situation too awkward. 

He was wearing a white shirt and a black pair of jeans, his black hair was messy and his blue eyes sparkled in the light. "I have to ask you something." he said nervously. " May I?" he added staring at me shyly. 

" Of course you may." I answered encouragingly.

" I'm facing a problem, a sort of dilemma." he began. " It's getting more and more daunting for me to dance."

" What are you talking about? You are still a bit inexperienced but still very young." I confronted him. 

" It's not about that. I can't help myself not to get unreasonably hard down there while I'm dancing with all the other girls. I don't get it, I try to stay relaxed and all but it doesn't change anything. It hurts." he told me purring out his thoughts. 

" Oh." I responded. I was well aware that this day would have come, his hormones were more agitated than the blizzard outside the windows.

" First of all don't question your career, the problem you encountered is utterly normal for all young men." I explained him. 

I was his centre of gravity, it wasn't concerning for me to talk to him about his sexuality. 

" I guess you are aware of what is occurring in your body, you are too brilliant not to know it." I continued. 

" We talk about it at school about sex and stuff, but all of this happening to me is getting out of hand." he replied.

I thought about what to answer him. I was gonna be the one through this path but I reckoned that to maximize the outcome and reduce the awkwardness between us, it was more 'efficient' to let him watch an experienced couple have sex in real life with him. 

" I do reckon for your first time experiencing sex in real life is better if you see a navigate couple doing it, more than having me telling you what to do or not to do." I affirmed. " My friend Momo is, for what I know, in a kind of open relationship with a man or more. I'm gonna ask her to set up a kind of masterclass for us in the next days."

His eyes sparkled, he was aware of who Momo was and how hot she looked.

" Are you sure Momo will be down to do it?" he gulped. 

" It doesn't hurt to ring her and ask." I replied standing up to call her.

To confirm my idea she accepted immediately to have sex in front of us, she has always been a bit of a show-off. I had to give her that she created a career around her attitude, becoming one of the main attractions of the Crazy Horse. 

I walked back to my baby who was looking at me with interest. " She is down to do it, the day after tomorrow it's her free day so she is down to help us." I explained. 

He stood up and hugged me. " Thank you. You have always provided for me, I adore you."  his voice was low and sweet as the candy floss.

I melted like snow under the summer sun and reciprocated the hug pulling him closer to me. His warm breath was on my neck and his hands were wrapped around my waist, I felt him pressing his body against mine.

It was the first time that he had touched me with so much affection. I couldn't stop my body from reacting to him and my nipples became hard. The place between my legs became wet and tingly.

I pecked his soft lips, he parted them and our tongues met in a dance. His kisses were soft and sweet, they made me feel so warm inside. 

I pulled out before things could go out of control. " Wait for a few days and then we will figure it out what to do." I asserted. " Be aware that I kissed because I really wanted to." 

I broke and walked back into the kitchen sensing his eyes on me as I walked away. 

The D-day came fast, Momo had told me to go to her place at ten sharp. I had dinner with my baby, he was tensed like a violin cord. 

I was wearing a simple outfit composed of a black T-shirt, a black short skit and a pair of black heels.

I had wavy hair for the occasion, and my legs were on full display. He had stared at them since I wore this outfit before dinner, I was very conscious of the effect I was having on him. 

" Stop fidgeting, with the food. We are gonna be late if you don't get a move." I opined cleaning the last bits of food on my plate.

He almost choked on the mouthful of spaghetti he was swallowing. He had to cough for a while and his eyes became glassy from the effort. " Sorry, sorry." he managed to say. His face was red from the effort and his blue eyes were shining, he looked like an angel.

I laughed at the sight and walked towards the door. " Come on. Let's go." I told him grabbing my coat from the coat rack.

We walked in silence until we got to Momo's door, it was raining. "Rules are simple, we watch and you don't touch anything that isn't consented to by Momo or me." I warned him.

He nodded while we took the lift to her front door. Momo welcomed us wearing a ridiculous cream corset and white panties, her tits were barely contained by the corset and the rest of the body was naked.

" Welcome to Momo's house." She said spinning around to let us see her body. 

" What a show-off." I affirmed in my mind. My baby was stunned by her look, he didn't even step into the flat. I had to drag him inside pulling his arm.

" Good evening Mina." a low and seductive voice called me. I diverted my gaze from Momo meeting Jean-Pierre's eyes. 

" Bugger. Why did you call him in for tonight?" I hissed speaking to Momo.

Jean-Pierre was a casting member at the Crazy Horse. His skin was black as a night sky, his body was muscular and well-defined. Not to mention he had one of the most impressive dicks I've ever seen. It was a beast, it would be hard to believe that someone could manage to swallow it entirely. He had a very specific role in Momo's sex life and he didn't even need to explain. He was the bull in her stable and she was the cowgirl. 

"Don't be a prude Mina. I know you have indulged some nights, over the last years with him." she replied. " You know he more than a good fuck."

I got red in the face feeling embarrassed. My baby eyes were on me and Jean-Pierre, I could see his brain trying to elaborate on what he had just heard. 

Momo was right, I couldn't deny her affirmation. I had met him a few times in the past in those moments when I needed to release the stress without having to worry about any repercussions. 

" Shall we begin." I tried to change the subject in question. 

Momo nodded leading us towards the principal bedroom. The light was dimmed and the room was filled by the scent of jasmine and lavender. 

My baby walked towards me, he stood beside me and his body touched mine. I tried my best to ignore the reaction of my body, but it was hard to ignore him, especially given how he looked.  He was so handsome that I wanted to kiss him all over his body. 

Jean-Pierre and Momo got naked in a heartbeat, Momo walked towards us, giving a soft kiss on my lips and then she walked towards my baby and kissed him as well. 

Jean-Pierre came next to Momo, his dick was already half hard and pointing towards the sky. 

" Wanna touch it?" he smirked at me.  

I ignored him, trying not to blush even more."Don't be a dick." Momo came to help me. 

She grabbed his arms and pulled him towards the bed, leaving me and my baby to watch.

They started kissing each other passionately, their tongues entwined and their hands were all over each other's body. Momo moaned when Jean-Pierre's fingers started stroking her pussy. She was already dripping wet, her juices were leaking down her legs.

I glanced at my baby and I saw him watching the scene in front of him, his eyes were wide with wonder.

Jean-Pierre grabbed Momo by the hair pulling her head back and exposing her neck to him. He started kissing her neck and sucking on it. Momo started panting when he moved lower and sucked on her tits. His dick was fully hard now, I could see it rubbing against her pussy.

Momo tried to rub herself against it but he held her still. " I'll let you come when I want to." he murmured in her ear. 

" Please Jean-Pierre." she begged.

He let her go and she knelt in front of his dick. She took it in her hands and started sucking on the head, she was drooling all over it. " You are such a good girl." he complimented her. 

He pushed her head down making her take his dick as much as she could in her mouth. Her eyes were wide open, and her hair was covering his lower abdomen. His dick was so big it wasn't able to fit entirely in her mouth, it was leaking pre-cum on her lips and the floor. 

" Good girl." Jean-Pierre moaned face-fucking her without any mercy. She gagged loudly, obviously in pain. " Swallow my cock." he commanded her.

She nodded and started bobbing her head, her lips were stretched to the limits around his shaft. She had tears running down her cheeks, she was struggling to take his dick in her mouth.

Jean-Pierre pulled her off him, she was gasping for air.  " Go on all four on the bed." he commanded her.

She did as told. " Now I'll gonna make you come." Jean-Pierre promised. He positioned himself behind her and grabbed his dick with one of his hands. He rubbed it against her pussy and pushed the head in. 

Momo started moaning loudly, he was pushing his cock in inch by inch, and her pussy was stretched to her limits to fit him.

He began pounding her aggressively from the beginning, not letting her inside get used to his shaft. 

" Bastard." was the only word Momo was able to pronounce before screaming as his dick botted out. 

Her pussy was dripping wet around him, she was already cumming. He kept thrusting in and out of her, his dick moving in a perfect rhythm.

" You are such a greedy little girl." he said grabbing her hips,  to make her feel more of his cock. 

" Yes, daddy." she moaned.

I could see the pleasure on her face, her tits bouncing at every thrust. She was dripping wet and her pussy was gaping around his dick. I couldn't help but feel myself getting wet at the sight of the two of them. 

Jean-Pierre's hand reached down and rubbed her clit, making her cum again. She screamed his name and he kept fucking her ruthlessly. 

" Baby, sex isn't just about being wild and rough as he is doing. If you truly love your partner you will be more sensible to her feelings and desires." I explained to my baby. " Don't forget to always ask for consent."

" Yes, I won't forget." he responded. My arm was wrapped around his shoulder forcing him to lay his head on me, his hair smelled of fresh grass and mint, it made me feel warm inside.

" Daddy, I want more." Momo screamed. Jean-Pierre picked up the pace of his thrusts, his breathing was heavy and his skin was glistening with sweat. 

His dick popped out of Momo's pussy and he stroked it with his hand. Momo was shaking and trembling from the pleasure.

" Come on my face." Momo commanded him. He did as told, his cock spurted out a long stream of cum on her face and tits. 

He laid down on the bed, his dick was still hard. He grabbed her by the hair and made her lick her own cum from his dick.

Momo obliged cleaning him entirely and sucking his cock once more, she took it in her mouth and started bobbing her head again.

His eyes were closed and he was panting, his hips were bucking towards her mouth. His dick grew even harder if it was possible. 

" Swallow my cum." he ordered her.

Momo obeyed him and sucked him harder. He groaned and came in her mouth, filling her throat with his seed. 

She swallowed everything he gave her and then licked his cock clean, she let him go when he was completely spent.

She crawled back to us and kissed me on the lips. " That was quite funny." She opined.

My son stared at her big tits with lust.  His eyes were wide and his pupils dilated. I could feel him hard against me. He was still staring at Momo with hunger. " Go on." Momo said in a seductive tone. " Fuck me."

Jean-Pierre sat up, his eyes fixed on my baby's body. " Go on, he's your toy. Do with him as you please." Jean-Pierre declared. 

He got up from the bed and walked towards the bathroom to clean himself.

My baby was still staring at Momo, he hadn't moved a muscle. " What are you waiting for?" Momo asked him. " Come on." she said spreading her legs.

" Don't rush him, he is still a virgin." I stated. 

" Mum, I want you to be my first." he said cutely. 

" I will baby, but now just go to Momo and have some fun." I incited him. 

" Come here and fuck my tits." she declared squeezing her tits in her hand.

He walked towards her slowly, his blue eyes were on Momo and he was licking his lips. He dropped his trousers and his dick sprang out. He was hard and it was leaking of precum. 

He knelt on the bed and grabbed Momo's tits, squeezing them hard. His dick started rubbing against Momo's body, he was already moaning.

" To be a white boy you got yourself a nice cock." Momo complimented him.

" Thank you." he answered shyly. He looked at me for a second before leaning in and kissing Momo on the lips.

His hips started bucking against hers and his cock was sliding up and down her body, leaving a trail of precum behind. 

Momo pressed her tits together creating a narrower tunnel where my son was thrusting desperately. I could only imagine the sensations she was feelings having those big melons rubbing against his dick.

His moans were getting louder, his hands were grasping the bedboard, and she was letting him do as he pleased. 

I felt myself wetting at the sight, it was so arousing to see him being pleasured like that. His body trembled after a good fifteen minutes, anticipating his climax. 

Momo sensed it as well. " Lie on the bed, I'll finish you off with my mouth." she pushed him to lie on the mattress and got on top of him. She grabbed his cock in her hands and stroked for a few seconds before diving her head on it.

Her lips wrapped around his shaft and her tongue started licking it. She was sucking on him greedily, she knew how to do it. I felt my nipples growing hard at the sight. 

He was moaning loudly and his hips were bucking up towards her mouth.  He grabbed her head and pushed her further on his dick, making her take as much as she can.

" Swallow my cum." my son moaned, his eyes were shut tight.

She obeyed him and started sucking harder. My son's eyes flew open and he came in her mouth with a loud moan. 

His cock spurted out jets of cum inside her mouth and she swallowed them all without leaving a drop. His cock twitched in her mouth for a few seconds more before she released it with a loud pop. 

Momo crawled back to me, her lips and chin were covered with my son's cum. She grabbed me by the hair and pulled me in for a kiss. I could taste my son's seed on her tongue, it tasted sweet like a caramel. 

"He tastes better than anyone I sucked before." she whispered in my ear. I could only agree with her assertion.

" Son, it's time to go home." I told him collecting his clothes scattered on the floor. 

We dressed in silence and we went back to our place. My son was walking in silence, his head bowed. 

We walked into my bedroom, his eyes locked on mine, he undressed himself again and he grabbed me by the waist, pushing me on the bed. I let him, I knew what he wanted.

He undressed me and started kissing me on my lips, his kiss was soft and gentle. I felt my body melting at the touch of his lips on mine.

His mouth moved down my body until it reached my pussy, I was already wet and aching to be filled.

He started licking my pussy, his tongue was dancing on my skin. I moaned loudly as he touched my clit with his tongue.

He was devouring my cunt savouring the juice that was licking out. The only thing I could do was to push his head deeper into me.

I came hard on his face, my juices gushed out, and he drank it all. He licked my pussy clean and then came to kiss me again, letting me taste myself on his tongue. 

" Please fuck me, baby." I begged him, he looked hesitant for a moment. 

" I'm afraid not to last enough inside of you." he breathed out. 

He was so cute in this situation. " Just take me as you please and don't worry of anything else." I incited him.

He positioned himself between my legs and grabbed his cock in his hands, he rubbed it against my pussy, letting his precum mix with my own juices.

" Please." I begged him again. He pushed himself in, his dick stretching my pussy out so good.

He was gentle inserting inches by inches inside my cunt till he had buried himself completely inside me. I moaned at the sensation of being full, he felt so good inside me.

" Move, baby." I murmured. “I’m all yours."

He leaned on my body, resting his head on the crook of my neck, his breath was hot on my skin. He began thrusting in and out my body slowly, he was trying to last as long as he could. 

" Harder." I whispered in his ear.

He obliged me picking up the pace and fucking me like an animal, his hips bucking wildly against mine. His balls were smacking my ass loudly and my tits were bouncing with every thrust.

I was in total bliss of pleasure, his dick was big enough to satisfy me completely without hurting too much. 

" If you keep going like this, you are gonna make cum again." I purred into his ear obtaining a bite on my neck. 

My hands scratched the soft skin of his back making him groan and sped up his pace, he was fucking in earnest.

"Oh fuck." I moaned wrapping my legs around his waist forcing him to go deeper in me. " I'm cumming." I screamed.

He fucked me through my orgasm, his dick twitching inside me, his pelvis grinding against mine.

" I can't hold it back anymore." He cried out.  I kissed his lips passionately, taking control of my actions.

" My pussy is yours, fill me whenever you are ready." I whispered in his mouth.

He lost all the control he had. His lips sucked my lower lip like it was a sweet, his hips motioned wildly for two minutes more before erupting. He came copiously, ropes of cum spurting out of his dick and filling me entirely. 

His thrusts slowed down until he came to rest inside of me, his dick still throbbing with pleasure. He broke our kiss, looking me in the eyes. He smiled shyly at me.

" Thank you, mum." he said softly. 

" Anytime, baby." I responded and kissed his forehead.

He pulled out of me, his dick wet with my juice and his seed. He cleaned it on the sheet and then crawled in my arms, his head resting on my chest. I wrapped him in my arms holding him tight as he looked at me with love and devotion. 

I kissed his head and looked at the digital alarm on my nightstand he had lasted a little less 10 minutes inside of me and he had made me cum. It wasn't a bad performance per se but it was far away from the best I've ever had. 

" Good first time, for someone like you." I told him. 

His body stiffened, his eyes didn't show love anymore. " Someone like me." he quoted my words. "I get what you are not saying." 

He broke my hug and rolled out of the bed his face was a mask of sadness and anger. 

" Baby you misunderstood me." I tried to defend myself by sitting on the bed. 

" I did not. I've clearly seen with Momo and that man what someone well-endowed can get out of a woman. Someone like me isn't born with those genes." he remarked. " Speaking of genes, my biological parents literally abandoned me. You just tried to polish someone else's garbage."  his voice was broken but he didn't cry. He seemed to truly believe what he was saying. 

Bowing he left the room. No slamming of the door, no screaming, no crying, he was painfully calm.

I went to his door, which was closed, sobbing I stated. " All you said is wrong. You are my treasure." 

I waited for a few minutes without getting any response, it was getting way to late not to sleep so I got back to my bed sobbing to sleep. 

The day after I knew he had an early morning class at the Opera so I took my time to get there following my schedule of trainings. 

I walked into the main dancing studio where almost all the dancers were rehearsing for the upcoming play. 

" Come on. Do a proper Grand Jeté." Mr.Lafayette exclaimed. 

I moved a little bit to watch who was jumping and my eyes landed on my son, who was in the middle of the jump when he met my gaze;  losing control of his body. He landed crashing on the wooden floor, he immediately screamed in pain touching his right knee. 

He was hitting the floor with his hand, I was there in a flash. " Baby, I'm here." I murmured kneeling beside him. " Let me see what you have done to your knee." 

His blue eyes were brimming with tears. " Don't touch it." Mr. Lafayette yelled. " We cannot do anything for him till the paramedics are here." 

" If I'm correct, and rarely I'm not about this kind of event he has broken the ACL. His career is over." He concluded by speaking with decades of experience in the dance world. 

My son laughed hysterically. " Just great, I screwed up the only thing I was barely decent at." 

I  could feel myself dying inside, my baby was broken, his career was over and he was feeling so miserable. I knew I had to take care of him. " It's not a problem, you can do something else." 

" Such as? The only thing I'm good at is dancing, now that's gone." He sighed. I was about to retort but the ambulance staff arrived making everyone move. 

I stayed there frozen, it was like someone had punched me in the gut. " Mina, get a move." I heard Mr. Lafayette's voice. 

My son was put on a stretcher ready to be carried on the ambulance. "Anyone who wants to follow him?" One of the paramedics asked.

 I raised my arms to make me noticed, but Mr.Lafayette put my arm down. " We need you here, the first play of the new show is in 36 hours." there was nothing wrong in his statement if not my willingness to follow my baby. 

" Let's go please." My son yelled and the ambulance staff did his job carrying him to the vehicle. 

My heart sank one more." Mina, I'll be in touch with the hospital. Do not worry." Mr Lafayette affirmed patting my back.

The rehearsal kept going, I performed at the best I could even though I was far from my usual standard. We ended up dancing when it was over midnight, it was pointless to rush to the hospital now, they would have never let me go through.

" Mina, I'm deeply sorry to inform you that the medics confirmed my idea about the injury. He will be under surgery in two hours from what I've told." He affirmed. " Tomorrow I'll start a casting to find a new dancer for his position in the ballet." he concluded.

I nodded accepting his decision and walked out of the room. I went to the dressing room and changed back my clothes. I grabbed my bag and left the Opera Garnier. 

It was still raining, my eyes were brimming with tears and my heart was aching. My baby was about to go under surgery and I wasn't by his side, I've never felt so miserable. 

The next day was as awful as the previous one, with hours and hours of dancing to get ready for the first play. The chance to see my son today seemed a mirage. 

" Mina, I've been informed that your son will be discharged today at 5 pm. I'm sorry but I cannot let you go home that early he will be assisted by some para-medics during the whole process." He told me. 

I did my best to focus on what I was doing to wrap up the day as soon as I could to rush home to my baby. 

The time seemed to slow down but we got finally to the end of the day, I rushed to my flat to find my baby lying on the sofa, he had a bandage on his knee. 

" Hi, baby." I saluted him. "How are you feeling?" 

" Like shit, literally shit." he hissed. " My world has crumbled apart, I don't have anything more." his voice was awfully sad. 

 He started crying, his whole body was shaking from the grief.

I could not stay away anymore, I rushed to his side and took him in my arms. I held him tightly. " Everything will be alright, baby. Your mother is here." I soothed him. He let himself go, his body relaxed in my embrace and he continued crying. 

" I despise myself." he confessed. " I despise everything about me." 

" Don't say such things." I rebuked him. "You are the best thing that has happened in my life." I declared kissing his forehead. 

His blue eyes looked up at me, they were brimming with tears. " Sweetening the reality won't change anything." He affirmed bitterly.  

" What are you talking about?" I asked him. He grabbed my hands and placed them on his face. His cheeks felt so soft under my hands, I loved him so much.

"You are beautiful, you are perfect in every single way." He explained to me. " I have been broken since I got abandoned by my parents, you tried to fix me but the cracks are still there. I don't deserve a person like you in my life." He said sadly.

His words hurt me, I felt like I was losing him. I tried not to break down in tears. I looked at him straight in the eye, my gaze was firm. " You are wrong." I affirmed. " You are the one I've always needed, you are the best thing I've ever known." I was telling him the truth, I loved him more than words could explain. " Your parents are the ones who don't deserve you. You are such a good kid." I stated, my voice was getting weaker. 

He laughed bitterly. " Little white lies. I have got a broken knee, I've failed you and myself. I've proved not to satisfy you properly, I'm just someone you spoiled over the years without getting anything. I'm a failure." 

"You are not, baby." I soothed him.

I couldn't take anymore. He was breaking my heart more and more. " I'll go to take a shower, don't move from here." I ordered him.

He nodded and I went into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I let myself fall on the ground crying out loud. I cried and cried till my body didn't have any more tears to produce. 

I cleaned my tears and took a shower. I dressed up in a nightgown and got back into the living room. He was still on the sofa. He looked up at me. His blue eyes were red from the tears, his hair was a mess and he looked so sad. I sat beside him and took his hand. 

I kissed the back of his palm softly. " Do you know how much I love you?" I questioned.

" I do. You gave me a home and all I own, I owe you everything." he replied. 

" Don't you love me?" I asked back. 

" I very much do, but I don't deserve you in the slightest.” he affirmed. " You should aim for someone better than me, it should not be too daunting."

I've had enough of his attitude, I slapped him on his cheeks." Enough is enough. I love you and I know you do as well, we are together whether you like or not." I felt better after my outburst. 

" Please kiss me." he said on the verge of crying again. 

" I will kiss you till the end of the days, but stop whining you have me by your side." I stated kissing him.  His lips were soft and warm, they tasted like the Earl Grey tea he loved. 

His hand cupped my neck and he pulled me closer for a deeper kiss. His tongue touched mine and it made my heart flutter. 

I broke the kiss, I wanted to see him happy, so I did the only thing I could think of. " Come with me." I stood up pulling him with me, his eyes looked at me confused. 

I took him into the bedroom and got him to sit on the edge of the bed. He watched me undress myself completely, his eyes were wide open in awe. 

" You are so beautiful." he murmured.

I grabbed his hands and made him touch my breasts. He cupped them in his palms pinching my nipples. " Do you like what you see?" I asked. He nodded, he was already hard. I kneeled on the ground and took his cock in my mouth. He gasped and his hand reached my hair.

I sucked him gently, licking him from the base to the tip. He moaned when I licked his head, it was so big and delicious. He was leaking precum in my mouth and it tasted sweet, I swallowed it all. 

" Can I fuck your mouth?" he asked shyly.

I nodded and he started pushing his cock down my throat. I sucked him for a good minute before he came inside my mouth. I swallowed all of him and licked his cock clean. 

" It's my turn." I said making him lie on the bed. 

I straddle his hips paying attention not to touch his knee and rubbed my pussy against his hard cock. He groaned feeling how wet I was. His hand grabbed my tits and pinched my nipples. 

" Take me, Mina." he moaned.

I lifted my hips and lowered myself on him, he filled me completely. His cock felt so good stretching my pussy out. His hand touched my waist and his pelvis started bucking up. 

" Ride me, please." he asked softly.

 I started bouncing up and down on him. His cock was sliding in and out of my pussy so good. His hands were groping my tits and his breathing was heavy. 

" Yes, baby." I moaned riding him. " Yes." 

He groaned in response. His hips were moving faster and faster, his cock was going deep in my pussy. 

I lowered my torso lying on him, my lips trailing a path of wet kisses on his neck. His arms wrapped around my back locking me in that position, his hips pounded me way faster than he did the first night. My climax came out of nowhere, I squirted on his body shuddering in his arms.  

His lips met mine and took control of the kiss, sliding his tongue inside my mouth he started licking me like a wild animal. 

He was so close to ejaculate, I could feel his cock throbbing inside me. I started grinding my pussy against him, I wanted him to feel how wet and warm I was. 

"Oh god." he groaned. " Mina." his cock spurted out cum deep inside me and his body went limp. 

I rode him through his orgasm, my inside was filled to the brim with his seed.

I laid on his chest, his arms were still wrapped around my back. " I love you." he whispered. His voice was soft and his breath was hot on my skin. 

" And I love you." I responded kissing him again. He tasted so good and sweet. We fell asleep in each other's arms. My heart beating for him and his beating for me. 

He woke up a few hours later, I could hear him sobbing silently. He was still holding me tight. " What's wrong?" I asked him softly, kissing his cheek. 

" Nothing." he lied.

" Tell me." I insisted. 

" I'm scared of losing you." he affirmed.  His voice was so sad that I had tears running down my cheeks. 

" Do not worry, baby. I will never leave you." I promised. " You are mine." I added kissing his lips.

The next day I had the first play of the new show, and my baby had to stay home due to his condition. I'd have loved to have him there watching me, luckily all went as good as planned. We got 5 minutes of standing ovation, I felt so proud of myself. 

After the standing ovation, the whole troupe of dancers went to a restaurant to celebrate the success of the show. I drank more than I ever did, feeling that I deserved it after all the troubles I went through in the past few days.

Jean-Pierre was there with us, he ended up sitting beside me and we talked for a while. I was drinking my second glass of wine when he kissed me. The kiss was wild and passionate, his tongue was dancing against mine. 

The party ended up sooner than I expected and Jean-Pierre accompanied me home. He kept kissing me the whole way, his hands were all over my body.

We got to my front door and he kissed me again. His hands were rubbing my thighs under my white skirt and his dick was already hard against me.

" Do you want to get inside and have some more fun?" he whispered in my ear.

I nodded shyly. I couldn't deny him anything, his touch felt too good and my control was gone by the alcohol.  

" We have to be quiet." I murmured opening the door. 

My baby was on the sofa sleeping. 

 Jean-Pierre's hands were still groping me, he closed the door behind us and pushed me against it, kissing me wildly. His dick was pushing against my stomach, I was melting in his embrace. 

" Oh god." I moaned. His lips left a trail of kisses on my neck, I had goosebumps all over my body. 

" Strip yourself." Jean-Pierre ordered me. His tone was low and commanding, I felt myself getting wet. 

I obeyed him and took off my white top, leaving my body bare from the waist up. His eyes feasted on my tits, they were already hard from the stimulation. 

He lifted me up on his shoulder like I was a feather, once in front of the sofa besides the one my son was sleeping he made me stand up while he plopped on the empty sofa.

" With all the house free to fuck you picked it here." I asserted whisper-shouting. 

" I wanna see how long you are gonna be able to stop your screaming while I fuck you." he smirked and remove the last piece of clothing he had on.

His dick was hard and pointing at me, the head was leaking precum. " Get on your knees." he ordered. " And suck me." his tone was cold and commanding. 

I had to admit that it turned me on, I loved being dominated by him. I obeyed his command and kneeled in front of him, taking his cock in my hands. I licked the head, tasting his precum and savouring the sweetness.

" Suck it, don't lick it." he growled. 

I opened my mouth as wide as I could and sucked him in, he hit the back of my throat with his length, making me gag. He grabbed my hair and made me suck him deeper. 

" Swallow me." he ordered. I obeyed him, I knew he would not stop until I did as he pleased.

He started fucking my mouth in earnest, his thrusts were merciless and his grip on my hair was hurting. Tears were streaming down my cheeks but it was not enough for him to stop, he kept going till my whole face was wet. 

" Good girl." he praised me. He pulled his cock out of my mouth and signalled me to turn around. He took me on his lap in a reverse cowgirl position; my hands were on his chest to balance myself. 

His cock rubbed against my pussy, it was dripping wet from the sucking. I gasped when he pushed the head inside me, my pussy was stretched to its limits, his dick felt way bigger than I remembered.

He filled me up easily, his butt was out of the sofa making him able to fuck me with all his might. He held my waist and started pounding me, his cock slid in and out of my pussy at a very fast pace. 

My pussy  was stretched out by his cock and fucked me wildly, making my tits bounce with every thrust. His pelvis slapped my ass loudly. I bit my lips to keep my moans silent. 

He manoeuvred his hand on my cunt, and his fingers rubbed my clit furiously, bringing me on the verge of cumming. 

He sped up his motion, the head of his dick was hitting my G-spot, making me feel too good.           " FUUUCK.” I screamed at the top of my lungs unable to keep my mouth shut.

My body started trembling and my pussy spasmed around him, cumming on his cock. 

He kept pounding me through my orgasm, his hand were holding me in place on his lap and I could do nothing but take it. His pace was fast and merciless. He was using my pussy as he pleased, I was just a toy for him, a vessel to be fucked and used.

My eyes darted towards my son who was now fully awake, he was looking at me with an unreadable expression. 

Jean-Pierre kept plowing me as mighty as he could, sending shivers down my spine. My pussy was dripping wet around his dick, it was making squelching noises every time he thrust in and out. 

"Stop immediately." I urged him. My voice was weak and I was trembling from the pleasure.

He did as told. His cock popped out of me and I collapsed on the floor, he stayed seated on the sofa behind me.

" Get out of this house." I ordered him. 

" Are you leaving me with blue balls?" he smirked taking his fat cock in his hand. 

" Yesss. Now move your ass and get out." I yelled slowly crawling on the floor towards my son, my legs were numb from all the dance of the last few days and the orgasm I just had. 

" If I must, I will." he agreed. He put his clothes back on and walked away from me. " You can call me if you need anything else." He sent me a flying kiss before leaving the flat.

I crawled to my son's feet and looked at him with my eyes full of tears. He was staring at me with a blank expression, his face was a mask. 

" Baby." I cried. " I'm so sorry." I hugged him. 

He sighed loudly. " Why did you bring him here?" his voice was way too calm. 

 " Baby, I've drunk too much and things got out of hand. But please let me tell you that he is not better than you. He has a bigger member but you please me as he does, but you don't hurt me and you don't make me feel like an object to be fucked." I confessed sobbing.

His arms pulled me up on his body, and his lips met mine. His kiss was soft and gentle, his tongue licked my lower lip. 

"Calm down, I got what you said." he soothed me. " Relax, please."

I melted his arms. " Let me take you to bed." I helped him to my bedroom.

" Once my leg feels better I promise I'll be more active in bed." his voice was sweet as honey. 

" Baby, don't worry. You have to go through some rough months with the rehab." I acknowledged. " Now you just gotta lie on the bed, and I'll do the work for us."

I deposited his body on my mattress and carefully removed his clothes. " Wait here, I'll shower quickly. I don't want to mix any trace left by my error with you."

A few minutes later I came back in my room, my hair was still a bit damp from the shower. He was lying on the bed staring at me like a lion staring at a gazelle. 

" You are outrageously good looking." he spoke, I had never been complimented like that. 

" You got yourself to be fucked, as hard as I can go." I warned him, smirking. 

His eyes were wide open and he nodded eagerly. 

I climbed on the bed and started kissing him from the neck, he moaned loudly when I sucked his skin. 

" Let me mark you as mine." I smirked biting his neck a few times, planting a series of hickeys.

 His moans were music to my ears, he was so sweet. 

I went further down on his body kissing and sucking every inch of his skin. I was kneeling between his legs when I got to the promised land, his cock was hard and pointed at the sky. It was already leaking precum, he tasted so good when I lapped it out.

" Mina." he begged me. 

I smiled wickedly at him and wrapped my mouth around his dick. His hands tangled in my hair pushing me deeper on his cock, he was thrusting in and out of my mouth.

" Swallow me, you good girl." he ordered me.

I did as told, swallowing every drop of cum he gave me. My tongue licked his shaft clean and I kissed the head before releasing him with a loud pop.

" I'll take good care of you, baby." I declared.  I was in love with him, he was able to dominate me but never crossed the red line. 

I rubbed his spent dick; it was still half-hard. " Please fuck me now." he pleaded. 

" You'll have to wait a bit, I want you to recover." I teased him, swirling my tongue around the head of his cock.  

I bobbed my head along his shaft a few times getting him rock hard again. 

I let his cook free from my mouth and crawled up on his body.  His lips met mine and his hands grasped my hips making me straddle him. 

I was rubbing my pussy on his dick, getting wetter by the second. I could feel how much he wanted to be inside me, his dick was leaking precum like crazy.

I leaned on his chest and kissed him passionately. I lifted my ass and positioned him at the entrance of my cunt. I slowly took him inside me, inch by inch. 

His moans were getting louder with every inch I took of him. My pussy was stretched by his girth, his dick felt so good inside me. 

When he was fully inside me I planted my hand on his chest and started to grind myself on him. His dick has bottomed out inside me and I could feel the head hitting my G-spot.

" Oh gosh, you are hitting my sweat spot" I moaned keeping up the pace. 

He positioned his hands on my hips, helping me to grind faster and faster. The pleasure made my mind foggy and my eyes unfocused. My pussy clenched around him, and my moans became one single note.

" Baby, I'm gonna cum." I declared.

His hands slapped my ass loudly and he kept fucking me through my orgasm. The waves of pleasure went through my body making me squirt all over the place. 

My body collapsed on his chest, panting soundly. My love caressed my back for a few seconds before closing his arms and holding me in place. 

He started to pound me wildly, hitting my G-spot with every thrust. " I'm too sensitive." I yelled.  

" I know you are enjoying it." was his reply. 

" I fucking do." I moaned in his ear.  His hands slapped my ass repeatedly like it was a drum.

His hips were on over-drive, I arched my back and felt the second orgasm building inside me. This time it would be a bigger one. 

" Oh, god." I moaned as the wave of pleasure engulfed me.

Another flood of my juice just went to drench his body and the bedsheets.

" Please cum, I can't take it anymore." I begged him resting my head on the crook of his neck. 

He fucked harder for a few more minutes I found the energy to lick his face and neck like a hungry wolf, he groaned and his cock twitched inside me. 

" Do it, baby, fill me up to the goddamn brimmmm." I hissed. 

He buried his dick deep inside of me for yet another time and came with a loud moan. His warm seed flooded my insides and his cock kept pulsating inside me for a good minute. 

We lay there entwined in each other's arms till our breathing calmed down and our bodies were not trembling anymore. 

I rolled off him, my body was sore but in the best possible way, it felt like I was floating on clouds. He wrapped his arms around me pulling me in an embrace. His lips were soft and warm against mine.

" You gave me the best sex I've ever had." I confessed. " Let me rephrase that; it was the best love I've ever had." 

" I cannot live without you, you make me feel special." he replied making me feel on cloud nine. 

" Likewise baby, I love you." I confessed again drifting to sleep in his arms.

When morning came I informed the company that I would have taken at least six months off, I needed to take care of my loved one. Mr. Lafayette didn't like the idea but he was forced to do as I wanted promising to let me get back as soon as I was ready.

" Mina, where are you?" I heard my baby calling me from my bedroom. He looked so angelic still half asleep. I felt my heart swelling of love for him.

I joined him on the bed. " I just called the company to take some time off, to take care of your rehab." 

His eyes brightened, we were gonna be spending months and months together. I couldn't understand what kind of pain he was feeling because I had been lucky enough not to get injured that badly.  

" I booked an appointment with a physiotherapist, she will be here at around 3 pm.” I informed him getting a thankful kiss on the cheek. 

I helped him get a bath to remove all the dried cum from the night before and got him dressed. He sat on the sofa while I went into the kitchen to prepare something to eat.

We waited for the physiotherapist on the sofa, my head was resting on his shoulder. 

When the doctor arrived I frowned, she was way too pretty for my liking. 

I went closer to my son and whispered. " Don't do anything stupid with her or I'll cut your dick off."  he gulped at my threat.  I knew he understood me well. 

I took my son to the doctor and left them alone in the bedroom to do their job. I went back to the living room and laid on the couch looking for some yoga plan to practice at home, I had to maintain my flexibility. 

I heard them closing the bedroom door and walked to the living room, she had a smile on her lips and my son had his cheeks flushed. I got jealous for a moment and mimicked the movement of a pair of scissors closing. His flush deepened and the doctor giggled. I ignored her and took my baby in my arms claiming my property over him. 

"He will be able to walk without any problem in six months. I'll visit him three times a week but you gotta help him exercise for a few times a day." the doctor instructed me before leaving us alone. 

" Do I need to grab a pair of scissors?" I teased him.   No, Mina." he moaned in response. " I would never do that."

I kissed him on his forehead and pulled him against me. " Of course you wouldn't." I whispered. I loved him so much that my heart could burst at any moment. 

" Mina, I need your help with the exercises." He stated looking at me with his big blue eyes. I kissed him again, he was mine. 

"I'll do anything to help you." I replied kissing him again. 

The all process of getting back on his feet was tough for the bought of us, the exercises tired him more than he wanted to admit but he kept up with me.

When he started to walk on his feet again barely I was constantly by his side, a few times he fell without compromising the knee. 

" You are too stubborn, let me hold your arm." I yelled at him helping him up from the floor. 

His eyes got watery. " Please, don't be mad at me." his voice made me hug him closer to my chest.

" I'm sorry baby, it's just that has been months since we've been out of this house for more than a day." I caressed his hair. " I'm just frustrated and worried about you."

He snuggled on my chest. " I'll follow your lead more diligently." he promised.

I smiled and kissed the top of his head. " That's a good boy." I praised him. He loved to be treated like that, it made him feel good. 

The days kept passing and my baby was recovering at the speed of light. After six months from his injury, he was able to walk and run without any problem. I had kept my word and was back to my job as one of the main dancers of the company. 

" Baby, do you want to join me for the new ballet?" I asked him. We were in my bed cuddling like we usually do after a day of dancing.

" Dance is a closed chapter for me." he stated sobbing. " I'm too afraid of getting hurt once more. You have been splendid with me in these six months, I don't know what I would do without you."

I felt a slight pang of disappointment, I had hoped he would get back to dance. 

" You are gonna find your way, you have the potential to do all you want." I told him.

His eyes sparkled like he had come up with an idea.

" Tomorrow I'll get out quite early, do not worry" he asserted. 

It was strange tomorrow was Sunday, where could he go on a Sunday morning?

My train of thought got interrupted by his hand on my tits, kneading them through my sleeveless black top.

" What you think you are doing?" I teased him. 

" Turning you on." his began to lick my right armpit painting a trail of saliva under my collarbone before ending on the other armpit. 

It made me feel so nasty. " Yes, you are baby. Give me more." I pleaded him. He kissed the space between my tits and then down my abdomen. His tongue danced on my skin, I felt like a goddess.

He reached for the elastic band of my skirt and pulled it down with his teeth, making them fall to the floor. I was wearing a thong, it had to be easy to remove but he decided otherwise. 

His teeth bit my right thigh and pulled the fabric down, doing the same with the other leg. 

" God." I moaned. I had never felt so horny.

He threw my underwear in the corner of the room. " Open your legs for me." he instructed me. I complied, letting him have access to my pussy. He kneeled in front of me and parted my lips with his thumb and index finger. He blew a hot stream of air on my pussy and I gasped.

He licked my clit lightly and his tongue went further down to the entrance of my pussy, teasing it before getting back up. My legs were trembling and my heart was pounding. 

" Fuck me, baby." I begged him. " Fuck me with your tongue." 

He obliged me and licked me up and down before focusing on my clit; he sucked it eagerly. I was moaning his name loudly, and my body was shaking from pleasure.

" Stop or I'm gonna cum." I warned him.

He laughed in response and kept sucking my clit like his life depended on it.

I grabbed his hair with my hands pulling it up. " You little brat." I said before pushing his head in my pussy.

He licked my hole, his tongue was fucking my pussy like a cock. I arched my back and my body went through an intense orgasm. I squirted all over his face, his chin and mouth were covered with my juice. 

 I pulled his head up to mine and licked my juice from his face thoroughly.

He kissed me again. " Lie on your stomach." he purred in my ears. " I wanna fuck you.”

I obeyed him and laid on my belly on the mattress. His cock was hard as steel, he slid it in between my ass cheeks and rubbed it against my back. He leaned on me, his body was covering mine completely. His lips brushed against my ear.

" Are you gonna fuck me?" I whispered.

" Yes, I am." his voice was so soft. He pulled my hair back, exposing my neck. His teeth bit me softly, I liked being marked by him, it was our way of expressing our love.

He positioned his cock at the entrance of my pussy waiting to fuck me. " How do you want it?" he asked me.  

" Hard and without mercy." I replied. " Use me as you please."

He grunted at my words and pushed his cock inside me. It was like the whole universe had stopped, he filled me up like no one else could do. 

" You feel so good." I moaned.

He started fucking me without mercy like I wanted, his dick was going in and out of me at a fast pace. His pelvis slapped my ass making me moan louder and louder. 

My pussy was clenching around him like it never did before, I could feel another orgasm coming. " Baby, please go faster." I urged him. 

He pounded me harder and faster, his breathing was heavy in my ear. I held the bedsheets in my fist trying to keep my whole body still. 

His hands held my tits under my body, squeezing them hard. I liked it a lot, I was on the edge of coming. 

" Oh god, oh god." I kept chanting like it was my mantra. He fucked me through my orgasm, his cock hit my G-spot over and over. 

My orgasm was too intense, my whole body shook violently. His arms pulled me up till my back was leaning on his chest. 

He sank his teeth in my shoulder making me shiver, his tongue licked the blood that came out from my flesh. 

" Come with me." he pulled out and dragged me to the edge of the bed. He was standing outside of the bed, I spread my legs as wide as I could. 

" Now I'll fuck your brains out." he promised. His cock slid in my wet cunt easily, his hands gripped onto my soft thighs. He was thrusting inside me like a wild animal. His hips were pounding my pussy at a fast pace, it felt so good, and my moans echoed throughout the whole flat.

" Oh god." I yelled loudly. His cock had hit my G-spot yet another time, another orgasm was incoming. I clenched my pussy around him, wanting to feel every inch of him.

" You are gonna make me cum again." I cried, his hands explored my body, and my tits became 

 his new toy.

 His fingers pinched my nipples, making me scream in pleasure. 

He was fucking me wildly and his hands groped my tits, my orgasm was yet another time stronger than the previous one. My whole body was convulsing violently; each thrust sounded wetter and wetter. 

" Baby, you are splitting me apart." I moaned. 

He lifted me up in his arms, my legs wrapped around his hips. He kissed me deeply before biting my lower lip, it felt so hot. His cock stayed deep inside me all the time, stretching me out to my limits.

His hands her on my ass cheeks and squeezed them hard, I moaned louder, I could feel my pussy getting even wetter.

He began to move my body up and down on him, his hands were on my ass. His cock was moving in and out of my cunt at a fast pace.

" Oh god, please don't stop." I begged him, my arms were wrapped around his neck.

" I won't, I promise." he whispered in my ear before biting it. His breath was hot on my neck, it made me shiver. His lips kissed my neck and his tongue licked my skin, leaving a trail of saliva. 

He walked to the wall and slammed my back on it, fucking me in the earnest. My tits bounced with each thrust he gave me. His breathing was heavy on my ear.

I kissed the side of his neck and sucked a patch of skin, he moaned loudly. I sucked a little bit harder till his skin was red from the hickey, he gasped at the pain. I kept sucking it like a leech till it was dark red. 

" I'm gonna cum again." I whispered in his ear, his whole body went stiff, and he started pounding me even harder.

His cock felt like it was expanding inside me and his pelvis slapped my ass, making me moan loudly. He fucked me through yet another orgasm. 

My whole body was shaking from the pleasure. His hand cupped my face and kissed me deeply, his tongue danced with mine.

" Cum inside me." I moaned desperately. " Please." I begged him.

My beloved baby obeyed my request, making me jump on his cock driving me insane.  

He moaned my name loudly and came inside me, filling my pussy with his warm seed. His dick throbbed inside me and he kept thrusting for a few seconds. I was trembling from the pleasure he gave me. 

I kissed him, trying to take away the oxygen from his lungs. His hands held my head, not allowing me to separate from his lips. 

He slowly made me stand on the floor, his cock slid out of my cunt with a wet squelch. My knees gave up and I collapsed on the ground, panting soundly. 

Like a knight he carried me on his bed, mine was a mess. 

" Sleep tight." he told me spooning me.

I woke up late, my body was shattered. My son's side of the bed was cold but still smelling like him, I was so chuffed to be with him. 

My phone chimed on his nightstand, he might have brought it here before leaving. 

The text was from him. " Hey, Mina. I went out to meet with a person, I'll be home soon." 

I questioned who he could have wanted to meet on a Sunday. 

My curiosity was answered a few moments later when my baby entered the flat holding a bunch of papers in his arms.

He kissed me on the lips. " I wanted to surprise you." he explained. 

" Surprise me?" I repeated. He handed me the papers and I read what was written on it. 

I was so happy I almost cried. 

" It's my contract with the dance company, I asked to work as Mr Lafayette's assistant.” he affirmed proudly. " He told me to study to become a choreographer, while my day job will be to take care of a certain ballerina."

My eyes widened, and I hugged him tightly. " Thank you, thank you, " I said. 

I knew that he had done it to be near me and I was so grateful. I kissed him deeply. 

His beautiful blue eyes stared at me in adoration. 

" Never divert your gaze from me. You are my baby blue love." My heart was stuck on him.

[into-fiction]

I've been thinking anout your winged!glinda HC's a lot,, can we get a hurt comfort one shot/drabble of elphaba preening glinda's feathers? 😔🙏

damn u really took me down a rabbit hole lmao. i ended up writing like 3k words of just sad, winged!glinda. but here's a snippet of her finally getting some elphie comfort!

(headcanon list found here)

///

‘Ready’ apparently comes two weeks later when an exhausted Glinda opens the balcony doors to let Elphaba in. Her wings are a tattered mess behind her, the result of a day spent flying against harsh, autumn winds. When Elphaba leads her to the bed, Glinda all but falls onto it, groaning into her pillows. 

She doesn’t realize she’s left her back open to Elphaba until the woman gasps loudly, hand flying up to cover her mouth. Glinda turns her head, curious, and her blood goes cold when she realizes what Elphaba is staring at. 

Usually, when Glinda is around people, she keeps her wings folded and tucked up, shielding her back from view and keeping her feathers away from wandering or curious hands.

But now, wearing nothing but a halter top and with her wings splayed to either side of her, the bare skin of her back is in full view, exposing the mess of scars and pink-stained feathers to Elphaba’s gaze. 

Glinda immediately tries to get her hands underneath her to push herself up, wings shifting to cover herself. She’s mumbling apologies under her breath, frantic and stuttering. She never wanted Elphaba to see what she had done. What her spell had caused Glinda to endure. 

“Stop, s-stop, Glinda, stop!” Elphaba cries. She’s trembling slightly, horrified by what she’s seen. “Just- please. Stop apologizing.”

Glinda glances over her shoulder with teary eyes. “I'm sorry. I never wanted you to see,” she whispers. 

Elphaba takes a deep breath, blowing it out carefully. “Can you show me again? Please?”

Glinda's first instinct is to vehemently reject the idea, but Elphaba is staring at her with wide, wet eyes, pleading and sorrowful. Slowly, Glinda lets herself fall back to her stomach, splaying her wings out and fighting against her instincts. 

It’s an easier fight than she would’ve imagined. A part of her…trusts Elphaba. More than she’s ever trusted anyone else. Her wings fall open willingly, even as her thoughts tumble over memories of sharp nails and harsh yanks, of cruel fists that pulled and twisted.

The first brush of fingers against her scars makes Glinda's skin twitch and her mind flash with a brief panic, but she manages to keep it subtle, breathing evenly, and after a brief hesitation, Elphaba continues her exploration. 

She doesn’t ask if it had hurt. She doesn’t ask why the feathers are pink. She doesn’t try and get Glinda to talk about the worst day of her life.

She just…runs her fingers over them, soft and gentle. She cards through the small feathers by the base of Glinda’s shoulders, and it’s such an overwhelming sensation that it practically makes Glinda want to scream. 

The human side of Glinda’s brain all but shuts down, and she collapses into the pillows, biting down on her tongue hard enough to bleed. Elphaba’s fingers are soft and sure, calmly raking through the ruffled feathers and gently starting to realign them. 

It feels heavenly. 

There’s a rumble building in Glinda’s chest as the pleasure washes over her. It’s not even sexual- it just feels good. Her mind is foggy and numb, her muscles relaxing and making her sink deeper and deeper into the sheets. 

“Glinda? This still okay?” Elphaba checks in. 

Glinda can barely remember what words are. “Mmhm,” she hums, snapping her mouth shut around what could almost be called a coo. Something warbly and soft, something happy. 

It’s like the world’s best massage, especially when Elphaba gains enough confidence to start working into the downy under feathers, rubbing through the softness right near her shoulder blades, coaxing Glinda’s wings to secrete the oil that will make them shiny and waterproof. 

Glinda wiggles in place, shivers running down her spine as Elphaba’s fingers glide through feathers that can’t help puffing up and settling down in waves as Glinda falls into the pattern Elphaba established. It feels so. Good. 

“Glinda?”

There are no words. Glinda can’t even think properly, swimming in a haze of pleasure. She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out except a pretty little trill. Elphaba laughs, startled but pleased. “You good, little dove?” 

The nickname makes Glinda melt, and she lets out another embarrassing trill. “Wow. You are really out of it,” Elphaba breathes, something awed in her tone. She keeps going, shifting the crooked feathers, smoothing the ruffled ones. 

Time starts to blur, and Glinda has no idea if it’s been minutes or hours. She feels so blissed out that Morrible herself could walk into the room right now and she still likely wouldn’t move. She’s an absolute puddle of limbs and feathers, her wings splayed over the bed. 

For the first time since Glinda got her wings, nothing hurts. Every feather feels right, nothing is misaligned, there’s no itch or sting or prickling awareness of something being wrong. No pain. 

Galinda feels completely, utterly, wonderfully content. 

“Stay,” she whispers to Elphaba, sliding further and further toward sleep, drunk on pleasure and finally feeling safe. She doesn't want Elphaba to leave, even as the woman shifts from preening her to just running soft fingers over the tops.

Elphaba's smile can be heard in her voice. “I’m not going anywhere.”