#it means nothing to the plot and is quickly forgotten about

[daisies-on-a-cup]

the consensus i have right now for abigail is that i must remember that she was a child. a teenage girl. she was young and impressionable and scared and also learning how to live from those around her. she learned violence from her father, learned how to hide it as well, but she also learned how to honor and how to overcome. she learned beauty and ephemerality and revenge and diversion from hannibal. her only mentors in life were ones that did not truly seek to help her but to benefit from her. the love they held for her was conditional and never really for her, but for what she might have represented for them. the love was real and the love was there, but it wasn't ever truly for her. abigail has been living on the tip of a knife for her entire life, and to slip would mean death. but if she stays perched there, even if her feet bleeds and the one holding the blade is waiting to see if she'll slip, she gets to live and be able to have the choice to do so. the options given to her were very few and not very good, but in a world limited by her fathers' arms, the choice to be embraced or hunted down are the only ones. she does as her father tells her because she has the evidence of how much he loves her and what will happen if that love overflows. she goes into hannibal's arms and accepts the blade in her neck because to run from her choices would make her a coward and would be telling of how little control she had had. abigail, above all else, was a teenager caged, but her entire character seems to be all about the ability to choose and control

[ugokuna]

It Was Always You

Pairing: Sukuna Ryomen x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was just one accidental, drunken kiss after a party, something you should've forgotten in a couple of days. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter, that you’ve moved on. That Sukuna had as well. You doubted he remembered anything; especially with every new girl he kissed and every party he was at. Sure, there were occasional glimpses and shared moments together, but those meant nothing. It couldn’t mean anything.

Tags: mutual pining, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, misunderstandings, missing pov, playboy(?)/fratboy/athlete sukuna, college!jjk au, reader’s major is unspecified, inaccurate and glorified depictions of college/college parties (so many parties to move the plot foward) and frats, peer pressure, cliche tropes, lots of time jumps, they were roommates (but not in the way you think), situationship (also not in the way you think), reader is introverted but NOT shy

A/N: English is not my first language. It also has been a minute since I've written anything, so forgive me if this is not the best, think of it like a warm up. I just had to post this one, it has been sitting in my drafts for toooooo long. Inspired by a fanfic I read about Ushijima/Oikawa by jaaesthetixx called Two Years too long on ao3 (definitely check it out!) . Proof read but I'm only human. The picture below is not my own, copyrights to the original artist!!

Word Count: 13.6K (it's a long one)

The auditorium is loud with bustling voices all being ushered by tired returnee students through the double doors. The atmosphere is filled with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, you stand there quiet as the crowd walks around you. You, a little out of place, about to begin the best four years of your life as everyone has been telling you.

As you situate yourself into your seat, you hear a group of boys in front of you rough housing with each other as they make their way a row down from you. One man from the group catches your attention; in stark contrast there sits Sukuna Ryomen, a Chemistry major with a growing reputation with every passing second. With the way he carried himself, smiling and laughing at everyone, he attracted crowds. Even during the campus tour, everyone was flocking his way, each one vying for his attention, drawn by his enigmatic aura.

“Are you going to the party tonight?” A girl places a hand on his biceps.

Sukuna gives her a dashing smile. “Are you?” He leans into her touch.

She laughs. “Yes.”

A wink her way. “Then I am too. Looking forward to it.”

As the group watches her leave, another man puts Sukuna in an arm lock, nudging their knuckles into his head. “Quit it, will you?” It was Fushiguro Toji, a Kinesiology major. He was perhaps just as popular as Sukuna, constantly catching the eyes of women in a more subtle and quieter way.

“What about you?” The man is able to get out of Toji’s grasp, brown hair sticking all different ways.

“Um… what?” You try to play it off, as if you weren’t listening to the entire conversation while waiting for your friend.

“Ask for the girl’s name first,” Toji berates the man.

Sukuna rolls his eyes. ”I’m just trying to break the ice first.” He turned his full attention back to you.

It didn’t bother you how Sukuna’s attention seemed to be pulled every which way. It’s something you observed quite quickly from earlier interactions. Catching and keeping his attention for longer than a minute seemed to be impossible with him.

“So?”

“Sorry, what?”

He laughs. “Your name?”

You give it to him.

He tilts his head. “So then, Yn, what’s your major?”

Heat starts to rise within your body and you hate how you feel embarrassed. ”I don’t know. I’m undeclared right now.

“Totally understandable. Better than a Chem major right? Actually-” Before he can get the last words in, Toji practically turns him around in his seat to pay attention to the presentation that’s been going on for five minutes now. Not a second later, your dorm mate, Maki, makes her way back to the seat you saved from the bathroom. “Did I miss anything important?”

After the presentation, everyone’s celebrating now that the boring orientation that’s lasted all day has ended. You’re about to make way to your dorm when you feel a tap on your shoulder. “Hey,” you turn. It’s Sukuna. “I forgot to ask but do you wanna go to the party with everyone?”

“It’s gonna be a pool party!” Someone yells out from the crowd.

You hesitantly shake your head, “I don’t know, I can’t swim. Maybe-”

“You don’t even have to swim,” he reassures you. “Promise it’ll be so much fun. You’d meet so many new people.”

You almost want to laugh at that statement. It had come to no surprise that he had said it; everyone was practically crowd pushing him away from you with each passing second. All he can give you is an apologetic look before disappearing into the rush of people.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

When you get to the party, the music is loud, the bass reverberating through your entire body. You look to your side and shrug to Maki, who’s giving you an arched brow, before you both walk in through the door. Hands are grabbing at both of you, trying to pull you every which way. You don’t even know how you got a cup in your hand. Maki is able to shove them all off and starts directing you towards the back yard. Discreetly putting your full cup on a random table, you’re stopped in your tracks as you spot Sukuna in the kitchen, shotgunning with Toji as, you noticed, a new group of people surrounding him cheer him on. All of them chanting his name.

The night air is crisp. It’s refreshing compared to the humid atmosphere in the house. The water in the pool is illuminating so bright in contrast to the low yellow lights of the house. Maki chugs her cup before asking, “Why are we here in the first place?”

All you can give her is a chuckle.

Sukuna spots you from inside the house, talking to one other person. He sees a bunch of his newly acquainted friends approach you with a bottle and a shot glass. His feet are moving before he can even comprehend what’s happening, excusing everyone he bumps into and makes his way to you as he sees you struggling to get them off your ass.

He somehow makes it behind you, as he says "Thanks, I needed that" as he reaches for the shot from his friend's hands, downs it, and makes his way back into the house, the group following behind him. Thank you is stuck on the tip of your tongue as you watch him take a ping pong ball into his hand, the upperclassmen cheering him on beer pong. He barely catches your eyes for a second before he turns his attention back to the game.

Maki finally makes her way to your side, asking, “Who was that?”

You can barely utter a response to her as you watch him knuckle his friend’s head when they miss the shot. You had come to the conclusion then that you were worlds apart, especially with his charisma.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Sorry about this again,” Toji grunts as you both carry Sukuna up to his dorm, on the verge of passing out on your shoulders. He’s mumbling something incoherent but you both decide to ignore the man. He had caused enough trouble already, challenging the sophomore Mahito to another drinking contest.

“It’s no big deal. It’s the least I can do after he helped me out of a situation,” you tell Toji.

“Huh,” he huffs out. “How ‘bout that.”

After taking a few stops and tumbles up the stairs, you make it to their shared dorm, one you’ve realized was only two floors above you. Toji gives you the access key as he rushes off to get the fallen objects scattered across the stairs and lobby.

You lean closer into him, quietly asking, “Can you walk?” Silence, then a hum.

You both make way to his bed before he can even give you a coherent response and start lowering him down. “Careful, you got it?” You’re the one struggling to lay him down slowly and not slam him head first into the bed.

“Oh, shit.” Tripping over each other’s feet, Sukuna slams onto the bed anyways, his arm around your shoulder dragging you down with him.

“Wait! Wait-” His lips are on yours before you know it. It’s soft, warm –probably from the alcohol– and as light as a feather. It’s almost shy, all that boldness from the morning and at the party, gone. You pull away abruptly, breathing heavily, fingers deftly touching your lips. A ghost of cigarette scent lingers behind in its wake.

You’re not sure if you heard a sorry from him as you’re rushing out of the room, bumping into a flabbergasted Toji in the hallway, spitting out the quickest excuse possible. You, who runs away, ears tinted red because he stole your first kiss.

Sukuna, who is passed out drunk when Toji makes his way back, utterly confused, asking where you were going and him saying how he'd probably fucked up.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It came to no surprise that you both gravitated towards different groups on campus, enveloped into two different hemispheres. You often saw him rushing to class with Toji following shortly behind, scolding him. Some days you see him with a different group on each different day of the week; always engrossed in whatever they were talking about. You could never seem to get away from him, he was the talk of the campus between all your classmates.

He often saw you with Maki. Always just the two of you, always routine, always disciplined. Something he clearly lacked, as Toji stated to him one night when they were procrastinating on studying for a test the next day. You seemed too far from him to ever close the gap; you were involved with different organizations and people completely opposite of him.

Only ever a glimpse whenever the other person wasn’t looking. Never crossing paths, staying out of each other’s bubbles.

You see him join a fraternity a quarter into freshman year with Toji; easily sporting that black and red fraternity jacket with pride at a party. You had come to the first rugby game of the season to support Maki’s new boyfriend Yuta, who was on the team, where you happened to see Sukuna on the rugby field as well; sporting new pink hair.

Again, drawing a big crowd as they lift him up in the air after scoring the winning point for the first game of the season. Him, displaying that toothy grin as his face. The lifestyle seemed to suit him well.

As everyone scrambles to get to their cars to go to the after-party to celebrate, you quickly make your way to the stadium bathroom. You’re nearly skipping from how full your bladder is and when you turn the corner-

There’s no mistaking that freshly dyed pink hair, immediately recognizing it as Sukuna Ryomen. Here he was, kissing a girl with his jacket on in the back of the stadium stairs. You freeze. You don’t know why, this was normal. You feel guilty for catching him in such an intimate moment; guilting for something else–perhaps for getting hopeful.

He didn’t owe you anything, you had to wrap that around your head. Given how much you’ve learned about him in such a short amount of time, this was a given. This was who he was, there was no denying that by anyone.

Running back to Maki and Yuta, who’s shooting you confused looks, all you can do is push them into the car and tell them to hurry home to go pee. When they question you, all you can muster is that the bathrooms were locked. You wonder if he even remembered that night. You want that memory out of your head.

They drop you off after much persuasion that you’d meet up with them later at the party.

When Yuta enters the frat house with Maki, Sukuna watches from a distance as the duo walks in before making his way to the couple with a practiced smile while he scans behind them. “Where’s Yn?”

“She’s coming later,” Yuta tells him, grabbing the offered drink from Sukuna and leaves with Maki.

The entire night he has his eyes glued to the door.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Landing yourself a job at the school library meant, though it was not often, seeing Sukuna there. Sometimes you see him studying, sometimes you see him tutoring someone, sometimes you see him playing Tetris on his computer as he tunes out an online class that seems very important.

There seems to be a backlog of books needing re-shelving so you’ve been tasked with that for the remainder of the shift. It really is mundane work but you believe it’s better than Maki’s physical job of carrying heavy loads. You hear a whisper then a squeal as you turn to the next aisle.

“We have to be quiet.” You knew that voice. You peek through the bookshelf, not knowing why since you know it belongs to Sukuna, his back to you.

“Or else what?” She leans into his touch as she laughs.

“Don’t wanna get caught do we? Gotta respect the rules here.”

And then he’s going in for the kiss, starting at the neck before making his way to the girl’s lips, who reciprocates with equal passion. With an attempt to give them some privacy, you accidentally knock down some books. And when you look back up, your eyes catch hers and she screams.

Before Sukuna can even turn around to see all the commotion, you’re gone. He looks back at the girl. “What is it?”

She scowls. “Some girl was snooping in on us. What a weirdo.”

Sukuna looks back for one last measure, craning his neck to see, catching anything. Nothing. And then he’s getting pulled back in.

You slam the books down and rush to get your things, stuffing your charger and papers into your bags in a hurry. “Sorry,” you spill out. “I wasn’t able to finish shelving these last books. I just realized I have a meeting to catch!”

The coworkers can barely get a response out before you’re out the doors. Why did you always have such bad timing?

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It wasn’t until sophomore year that you started to find your footing here at the college. You honestly have Toge and Panda to thank for that. If you hadn’t met them, you probably wouldn’t have chosen the major you did. Toge Inumaki, though the yapper he was, really made you love all the communications class you took together. You didn’t know what to expect from Panda. Definitely not barely passing a mathematics class together, that’s for sure.

Sukuna’s head turns when he hears your voice. “At least the teacher likes me more,” you tell Panda who taunts you by sticking his tongue out. It seemed like your group was heading out downtown.

“Yea, yea sure.”

He watches you sigh in mock frustration, but not without catching the teasing smile that’s growing on your face. “Don’t come crying to me if I pass the class and you don’t.”

Sukuna can’t help the scoff that comes out of his mouth before he continues on his homework.

“What’s so funny?” Toji asks.

The pink haired man can only shake his head, hand coming up to cover the grin. “Nothing, nothing.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The crowd erupts into a complete frenzy as Sukuna scores, yet again, the winning goal. As you and the group make your way down the stands to celebrate with Yuta, embracing him in an all encompassing hug, you aren’t sure if you had caught Sukuna’s eyes. Everything was happening too fast as the crowd swallowed him up.

“Thanks man, ‘ppreciate it,” he says for the nth time tonight after another person congratulates him. He touches his cup to the man before taking a sip when he hears your laugh. He turns towards the crowd, scanning. He hadn’t seen you come in and he missed the change to talk to you at the end of his game.

He can’t seem to get a good view of you until he hears your laughter die down abruptly, followed by hesitant no’s. His body is moving even before he can understand anything, barely tuning in to everyone who’s slapping him on the back for a job well done today.

And then he finally sees you. Cornered by one of his frat mates, Mahito, shoving a shot glass into your hand, clinking it with his before tilting it towards your mouth.

One, two strides and he intercepts. Grabbing the shot just as it barely touches your lips and downs it in one fluid motion. He sets it down harshly, making you jump. There’s a silence between the two men as you watch from behind Sukuna’s shoulders before Mahito slowly raises his hand in defeat, and leaves without much protest.

“Um, thank you,” you’re finally able to muster out, raising a finger to tap his shoulder.

He turns around before you can ever make contact. “You should really-”

“I was looking for water,” you interrupted him. “Some water…” you repeat again.

He sighs, reaching behind you and opens the fridge, tossing you two cold water bottles and leaves it at that to chase down Mahito.

When the party starts to wind down, Sukuna takes the chance to move to the balcony on the second floor to smoke. He digs out a crumpled cigarette, it would have to do. As he lights the butt up, he looks up to the sound of footsteps. Taking a whiff, holding it in before blowing it out, he gives you a nod of acknowledgement. He tries to keep a neutral face but can’t help but have his brow twitch at you approaching him, almost tentatively. He leans back against the rail.

“What’re you doing up here?”

“Sorry, is this off limits?” And yet here you were, still walking towards him. You settle on one side of the balcony.

He shrugs and goes for another before blowing it out carelessly towards you. Sukuna doesn’t miss the way your lips purse at his actions.

“Yuta said I could come up here.”

“Yuta?” He says in disbelief. “That scrawny emo kid?”

You shoot him a look. “Hey!”

Sukuna huffs at the sweet noise you made, turning his head and blowing out the smoke. “Just the truth, he’s a newb.”

He doesn’t miss the way you roll your eyes. “So are you. Didn’t you and Toji both start at the same time?”

Sukuna lets his cigarette drop to the floor as he leans in closer to you. “You see me on the field today?

“I did.” It’s almost bashful.

He dares to lean a bit closer. “And what did you think? Did I look like a newbie out there?”

Everything is forgotten when Sukuna sees you reciprocating his actions. “I think-”

“Sukuna!” Toji calls out for him as he makes his way to the balcony, clearly out of breath. “Oh! I didn’t realize you were busy. Hey Yn.”

You give him a small smile and wave.

Toji’s already tugging Sukuna along by the sleeve of his jacket. “Come on, I made a bet saying you could finish the funnel faster than Mahito. Betted Gojo winning against Geto and he fucking lost. Can’t let me down now.” And he’s dragged away before he can even say anything, taking one last look at you before heading downstairs to the backyard.

And when he’s done, belly full of beer and deal won, he rushes back up to the balcony knowing very well you wouldn’t be there but being disappointed anyways.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Wrapping up sophomore year is hectic and stressful. Sukuna is ever busy trying to gear himself to being vice president of his fraternity for the upcoming school year. Drawing in tabling, hosting events, and running booths that you often run by when going to class. He always looked so into it, voice booming above all others. Convincing old friends and new to vote for him, convincing fresh boys to rush his fraternity over others.

When he’s warming up for rugby practice, he sees you and Toji walking side by side. Watch as the both of you both laugh at something before parting ways. He sees you biting your lip in the cafe as you angrily tap away at your laptop, the wrinkles on your forehead more prominent than ever.

Thanking his tutor for the day, Sukuna starts to pack up his things as he’s running late to his fraternity meeting. He’s about to text one of the members before he catches a glimpse of you from the corner of his eye.

“Here you go.”

You shriek a bit before covering your mouth. After looking around, hoping you didn’t disrupt anyone, you looked up at the man standing behind you. “You scared me!” you whisper-yell at him while grabbing the book from his grasp you had trouble reaching.

“You’re welcome,” his voice hinting at something, brow raised. “Don’t they have those long ladders?”

Turning to finally face him, you hug the book to your chest. “Yes, they do, but I thought I didn’t need it.”

He only hums before leaning in closer. “Oh, yea?” He picks off invisible lint off your shoulder before bracing his arm next to it. “What’re doing in the library?”

“I work here,” you state matter of factly.

“That so…” his voice wanders off. Interesting.

“Yes,” you reply, ducking under his arm. He was too close, his proximity taking you back to that night freshman year. You didn’t need that memory resurfacing after all this time. Both of you were about to be juniors in college, it was embarrassing how you just couldn’t let it go. “I’d like to stay and chat, but I have a lot of things to do right now.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Junior year is beginning to look good. You’ve just applied for an internship and have signed a lease for an apartment. The school year starts off with great news of Sukuna as well: becoming the vice president of his fraternity and captain of the rugby team. You can't help but smile when you read it in the school’s newspaper. You’re happy for him.

It's no surprise that with the new achievement and the start of the semester, it’s a big party; the fraternity house is filled to the max. As you weaved through the crowd, hand in hand with Shoko, you couldn't help but have your eyes wander to a certain silhouette. It didn't matter anyways, you both weren't going to stay long anyway. You both have prior commitments the day after.

But nothing ever goes to plan as you find yourself staying past the time you guys agreed on. And it's not until you find her slumped against Gojo that you rush over to her. You try to drag her out of the house, men start approaching you, grabbing and pulling everywhere.

You can only offer her a smile when she mumbles something about Gojo and tell her you're taking her to the bathroom first before leaving. The line is long and everyone's giving you the stink eye and it makes you want to crawl into your own skin while Shoko is hanging onto your shoulder telling everyone to fuck off.

Toji comes to the rescue and tells you to go upstairs to the master room, no one should be in it. As you burst through the door, you stop.

Both are topless, hands skimming and touching everywhere. Sukuna’s on top in a heated make out session with a girl who screams and pushes the pink haired man away.

You quickly shield your eyes and apologize. "I- I’m sorry… I didn't mean to interrupt! Toji, he said no one would be up here and-" The girl shoves past you as she sends you a dirty remark, making you drop Shoko. You sigh out in frustration.

"It's okay," he reassures you quickly.

Your eyes notice the bruising marks on his chest and neck and you realize you're staring. You divert your gaze back to the ground as you decide to focus your attention back to putting Shoko on your shoulder.

You can't really see him that well in the dark lighting. What his face reads. What his eyes say. "Here, let me help." He approaches and you tense up in panic

"No! No," you say more calmly. You feel like crying for some reason. And you hate it. Stupid, you tell yourself. There was nothing to cry about, you've seen it before. Many times. It certainly wasn't going to be the last. "We’ll go somewhere else. Again, I-" you inhale. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, seriously.”

Sukuna calls out your name. “I know-” And then Shoko throws up on the floor. On Sukuna's feet.

And that's the last you see of him as you apologize profusely, tears brimming from ruining his carpet before you rush out to call a taxi.

Sukuna Ryomen, you really are a heartbreaker.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As Sukuna walks up to the desk, sliding the two books he checked out a week ago, he asks where you are. He hadn’t seen you working in the library for the past few weeks.

The staff scans his book. "Oh, you mean Yn? Her internship schedule didn’t work out with this job, so she quit. Heard she’s doing just fine though!”

Sukuna can only nod as he walks out the door to go to his next class, he can't help the growing smile on his face. It brings him back to the first day he saw you at orientation; how timid and frightened you looked before walking inside the big doors before him. How you nearly shook when asked by him what your major was, voice full of uncertainty when you told him undeclared. Truly, it amazed Sukuna to see how much you've grown now compared to him.

It looked like he had some catching up to do.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"When are you leaving for your study group?" Uruame, your new roommate, yells from her room. You got along with her quite well for having just met her a few months ago.

"Maybe in about ten minutes or less? Why?" You close your laptop, having just finished a task for your internship.

"Oh, good. I have a friend coming over soon, that's why. He should be gone by the time you come back." She can be heard rumbling around through the room before adding, "He should be here any minute. When he does, can you open the door for him?"

You yell back a yea and within five minutes there's a knock on the door. "Hi-” All you can really do is stare.

Sukuna is speechless as well as he watches you move to the side to let him in. He passes through the threshold, unsure of what to say.

"Sorry about that," you tell him, closing the door behind him and clearing your throat. "It's nice to see you again."

He only nods. "I didn't know you were Uruame's roommate. If I knew-"

"It's okay!" you chirp up, guiding the pink hair to the living room. “Do you want some-”

"Sorry for the wait!" Uruame finally comes out, pecking Sukuna on the cheek.

You quickly look away.

He watches you. And you miss the way he's searching for you, the way he’s trying to tell you something.

"I should get going!" You chime, trying to change the mood. You round the living room and grab your things.

He notices the way your back is facing him the entire time. "Where are you going?"

You offer him a small smile but he notices how you won't look him in the eye. "The library."

Once the study group session is over, you overhear two girls talking about the books in the library. "Actually I noticed the same thing too. A lot of the books are checked out by his name.”

"What was it again?"

"I don't remember but I think it’s kinda romantic.”

Later that night, as you’re eating dinner with Uruame, you learn that she and Sukuna were in a situationship. They had been hooking up for a couple of weeks now and wanted to test the waters a bit before confirming anything. You muster up a smile and wish them the best. Truly.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

For the next couple of days, something inside your core shook. Nothing you ate sat right in your stomach; it was nonsense really. You both really never had any deeper relationship than a few conversations sprinkled in the past three years.

Unintentionally, you had buried yourself in work, having a backlog of tasks and assignments to juggle alongside your job. Sukuna came by a couple of times a week at the apartment and sometimes it was Uruame who would be gone for a few days at his frat house. A few acknowledged nods whenever you were in the living area before he disappeared into Uruame’s room, that was all. You made sure to keep it minimal.

Whenever you heard the door close to Uruame’s room with a few laughs and a belt hitting the floor, you always made sure to leave the unit as quickly as possible. You always timed when your shift ended and when he would leave the house; it was for the best.

Sometimes you weren’t so lucky. Hearing the roar of the engine outside your apartment was something you’ve come accustomed to at this point. Sometimes Sukuna drops Uruame off when you leave for your work shift, who's leaning against his motorcycle, a cigarette lazily resting between his lips. As you acknowledge him, he slips the cigarette butt out of his mouth and onto the floor to stomp it out, before giving you a curt nod back. His eyes follow you as he watches you get into the car.

Or when you accidentally come out of the shower with just a towel around you just as Sukuna walks in. Who immediately apologizes and covers his eyes and turns around for invading your privacy.

But you like to think you’ve done a good job of giving Uruame and Sukuna the privacy they need. It’s the least you can do.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

When Sukuna gets a late night text from Uruame to come over, he sneaks in quietly, unlocking the door from the key that you told him about under the doormat, to which he had practically scolded you for how easy and cliche it was for anyone to discover. He’d have to find a better spot next time.

Quietly removing his shoes, Sukuna makes his way through the house. Then he sees you knocked out on the couch, laptop on the verge of falling off your lap. He huffs out a low chuckle as the man rounds the couch to close the laptop, putting it away, and grabbing the throw blanket to keep you warm. Once satisfied, he looks at you before kneeling down and moving some hair out of your face.

“Don’t work too hard, hmm?” he tells you. He’s there and gone before the sun even rises.

Sukuna could never seem to catch your eye wherever he’s over at your place, he notices. You’re either in your room, or running an errand right when he arrives, or over at Yuta’s place studying. But that’s okay, because sometimes if he concentrates enough, it’s moments like these that he likes.

Sukuna can smell whatever you're baking as you hum in the kitchen from Uruame’s room. He wonders what it’d taste like. What you look like. Were you hopping around dancing in the kitchen with a spatula in your hand? Were you covered in flour when he heard you scream as you burned and messed up the measurements for the brownies you were making for your co-workers?

And when he leaves your apartment for the week, passing by the island in the kitchen, he sees a note that reads “feel free to take some” with a smile-y face scribbled on it.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The apartment has become more lively lately as the first round of midterms for the semester are coming around. You, Maki, Toge, Yuta, and Panda are supposed to be studying for the upcoming test for your class but somehow the monopoly game ended up on the table and you’re in jail for the eighth time.

"No deal," Toge tells you.

"What!?" You complain. "I'm literally giving you the last Railroad to make a complete set."

"Yea, and why would I exchange The Boardwalk and give you a complete set. It’s totally unfair."

The other bystanders grumble out agreements and you hate how they're on Toge’s side when they were the ones who encouraged you to make the deal in the first place.

Sukuna is leaning against the door that separates you and him, trying to get even the smallest detail of what's going on on the other side. Uruame was asleep and he was supposed to have left thirty minutes ago, but when he heard your voice along with your friends, he froze.

And now he's listening to you angrily yell and try to miserably seal a deal that he, unfortunately, also doesn't agree on. It's the worst thing Sukuna’s ever heard and he's trying his best to stifle the rumbling in his throat. Oh God, you were so bad at this.

"You know," Toge deadpans, “Why don’t you just admit that you’re just threatened by me."

"Oh please," you bite back. "When have I ever felt threatened by you?"

"What are you talking about?" he flabbergasts. "If I gave you The Boardwalk you'd max out the hotel immediately and you'd win the game."

"Which is only two spots!” Your fingers emphasize the number two. “You have four!"

"Which I always land on!" He leans forward on the table, not backing down. “Do you know how unlucky I have to be to always land on them?”

"What if she gave you fifteen percent of the revenue as part of the deal?"

Everyone jumps at the voice, startled. He’s done this many times, and yet he always catches you off guard. You stand up right to turn to look at him.

"Oh, I thought you already left."

Maki watches you, flicks her eyes towards the pink haired man before silently reorganizing her cards.

"Overslept," Sukuna tells you nonchalantly. He nods towards Toge. "What do you think of that deal?"

Toge can barely muster out a nod as Sukuna explains to him the terms and conditions. All you can do is look at him. Perhaps what Toji said to you in secrecy was true. It did look like he was going through a rough time at home. Toji didn’t delve too much into it, wanting to respect Sukuna’s privacy. All you knew was the one sentence that stuck with you, “He may not look like it, but family means a lot to him.”

He did seem a bit softer around the edges now. The tattoos that were littered over his body didn’t seem all that intimidating anymore. His eyes, though not evident unless you look closely like you are now, have eye bags under them. His eyes flicker to you as he says, “That sounds good to you?”

You blink at him. Once. Twice. “Um… what? Sorry.”

Maki couldn’t help but smirk down at her lap.

Sukuna leans one arm on the back of the sofa, the other pointing at the board game. He’s so close that you feel the heat radiating off of him. The proximity makes you stiffen. “Toge’s gonna trade The Boardwalk with your Railroad as long as you give him twenty percent of the money anytime someone lands on it. I raised the profit for him to accept, that okay? You’ll still be able to keep a majority of the money anyways, especially with the other cards you have.”

You highly doubt Toge accepted it because of the terms and not because he was Sukuna himself. You only nod.

He nods back and pushes himself off the couch, groaning as he stretches his arms up before making his way to the door but not before saying goodbye to everyone. You walk him to the front door to see him out as he tells you “hope you win” before closing the door behind him.

You do win that night. By a landslide.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Would it be weird?” You’re laying on Maki’s bed, head hanging off the end as you wait for her to freshen up for your hang out today. “To…you know…”

Maki laughs from the other end of the room, throwing the jacket she’s finally settled on towards you. You catch it without hesitation. “Invite your roommate’s situationship?”

“They’re just taking their time,” you try to defend them once again.

“After three months?” You move over a bit as Maki settles in beside you. “Look, I think inviting him would complicate whatever you already feel about him. You already know what I’m going to tell you: do whatever you wanna do; but just think about what I’ve told you.”

Maki gives you a look when Sukuna invites himself in without even knocking, putting the spare key in his pocket and greeting everyone. You shoot her a look back.

Uruame greets the pink haired man before you can even reach the entrance. “You made it!” And gives him a quick peck on the cheek.

Toge reaches for the snack bowl. Panda suddenly chokes on his popcorn and Maki takes a big gulp from her drink.

Sukuna’s line of sight goes straight to you, offering a sheepish smile. “Hope you don’t mind, Uruame invited me.” He holds up a small gift bag, almost like a peace offering.

You finally move from the couch to grab it. “Not at all.”

Everyone has settled in, given with the help of a few mixed drinks Maki and Panda made. Uruame and Toge were in a much heated argument that has gone off course that started with toilet paper and has now changed into cereal and milk.

Taking the chance while everyone’s preoccupied, you head towards the kitchen to get the cake ready. You take a sip from your cup as you’re struggling to find both the candles and lighter. A hand comes up behind your back as you feel someone brush up against you to open the cabinet above you.

“Here you go.” Sukuna sets down the box of almost empty candles on the counter.

“Thanks,” you tell him, almost amazed that he knew where it was.

He shrugs. “Saw it here when I was cooking for Uruame.” Then gestures toward the plastic cup. “Didn’t think you were a drinker.”

You open the box and start putting the candles around the cake. “Never said I wasn’t. Just always seemed to find myself in situations where I didn’t want to.”

He huffs at that, tilting his cup.

You laugh, picking up your own to tap it against his before taking a drink together.

Sukuna watches you take a sip before finally trying his own. He could get used to this side of you.

You get back to putting the candles around the cake, putting six mix-matched colors around the border. When he sees you frantically searching for a light, Sukuna reaches into the front pockets of his jeans, flicks his cigarette lighter open and lights all the candles with ease, before putting it back.

And when the lights are turned low and everyone sings happy birthday, Sukuna wonders what you wished for as you blow out the candle. He wonders if you liked the gift he got you. Wonders if he’ll have other birthday celebrations with you.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The rest of the year goes on like that. Balancing school with the internship while hosting study sessions either at your apartment, the school library or at your friend’s place. You go with the entire group to help cheer on Yuta at the rugby games, sometimes cheering on Sukuna and Toji as well.

A call erupts from your phone; unknown number. You answer it, “Hello?”

“Yn?”

His voice makes your heart skip a beat. After all, you guys don’t really talk. Not like this anyways. “What’s wrong?” You sit up in bed, removing the phone to check the time.

2:03 a.m.

The phone returns to your ear. “It’s…fuck,” you hear shuffling before a disgrunted groan. “It’s Uruame. I don’t know what’s up with her today. She can usually hold her own but she's out like, bad.”

You’re already out of bed and grabbing the keys. “I’ll come as quickly as I can. Your house right?”

He huffs a hum. “Thank you and I’m sorry.”

Pulling up to the curb of the house, you barely put the car in park as you rush out of it and meet Sukuna and your roommate on the lawn. “What’s wrong? How is she?”

The pinked haired man looks to his side, where Uruame is hanging lifeless on his shoulder. “Threw up twice so far, probably will throw up again.”

You curse under your breath as you go around to the other side to help relieve some of the weight. He brushes you off. “It’s okay, you can just open up the back of the car.”

Once having arranged the blanket you brought on the backseats, you help Sukuna put your roommate in as easy and comfortable as possible. All you guys can do is stare at her in silence.

He breaks it first. “Make sure you change her out of those clothes and have her sleep on her side with the trash next to her. And water, ones with electrolytes would be even better if you can,” he adds at the end.

You nod to everything he’s saying. “Okay, okay. Maybe I’ll stay up tonight to keep watch of her, yea?”

“Yea,” it’s the first time you’ve seen him rub his neck. “That’ll probably be good. And uh… sorry about this again. I would have driven her myself but I drinked a bit and didn’t want to risk it.”

You rock back and forth on your heels. You wanted to close the gap, to reassure him. “It wasn’t your fault. None of it was.”

And then Sukuna’s shoulder slumps, looks up at the night sky as he buffs out an air before looking back down at you, his face softening. Hearing that from you, Sukuna can’t help but ruffle your hair. He holds it there before letting it run down the rest of your arm, his hand barely a touch of a whisper against yours before he says, “Get home safe,” and turns around walking away. Shoving his clenched hand into his pockets.

You put your hand onto the place he just touched, still feeling the heat from his palms. You hate how you know it’s something you’ll remember for the next couple of days.

Sukuna has his eyes trained to his phone, reacting to every vibration and every notification. He knows he shouldn't get his hopes up. You aren't obligated to update him at all. He's half listening to Mahito’s conversation when he receives a message.

You: Got home safe.

And he stares at it for a long time.

“Careful there,” Shui joins him on the backyard patio and offers him a cigarette, “you might burn a hole into your phone.

Sukuna waves it off. "I dont smoke anymore."

Shui’s eyes are still stuck on Sukuna’s phone before Sukuna quickly turns off the screen, which causes the senior to raise a brow at the man before putting the box back into his pocket. "Huh…”

“What?” The junior says almost begrudgingly.

Shui only shakes his head. “Nothing… just curious when you started caring about your health."

He remains silent. A ping! gets both of their attention but Sukuna swipes the notification away quickly but Shui caught it.

You: Thank you again. Have a good night :)

"Oh." Shui says. "It's like that.”

Sukuna ignores his upperclassmen and looks up to the sky in silence, teeth grinding.

�� · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

When you settle into the bed in Uruame’s room, she mumbles, “I think I’m in love with Sukuna.” You stop whatever you’re doing, frozen, wishing you could freeze time itself right now. This last thing you never wanted to hear from her. You had promised yourself you’d be happy for her if it ever came to this very moment.

“I was too much of a pussy to tell him tonight, which is why…” she burps and you immediately move the trash closer to her. And the next thing you know, she’s asleep and you’re darting out of the room, out the apartment, and rushing back to the library to check one thing.

Your body automatically moves to that aisle, the very same one you saw Sukuna kiss that girl two years ago. You push that thought away as you pull a random book off the shelf and flip to the inside of the book cover. You’ve always had an inkling of what was in the books after you caught the two girls talking sophomore year. You never checked it because you didn’t want to confirm what you already knew. Didn’t want to give yourself hope; wanted to deny yourself the reality because it’d just complicate things.

There, on the book checkout log, written in all caps, reads Sukuna Ryomen. Checked out on Monday.

You pick up another book, this time at the very bottom. Again, it reads, Sukuna Ryomen. Checked out on Wednesday.

You pick another one. Sukuna Ryomen. Checked out on Thursday.

Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen.

And it’s hard to keep your breath steady as the books lay there telling a story. One you don’t want to read, one you don’t want to finish. He had checked out all the books in the aisle you often worked in. On all the days where you had a shift. On the dates even after you resigned from the job.

It's the first time you break down into tears.

Finally back at the apartment, you get into the covers with Uruame, who’s sober enough to take you in her arms. “What’s wrong?” She rubs your back.

You shake your head and bury your head into her chest. “Nothing.” Even that word leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Before you know it, Sukuna’s birthday comes around and Uruame has invited you to tag along. Afterall, it was only common courtesy to show up since he came to yours. That didn’t mean you weren’t dreading this night, especially not when your roommate had confided in you that tonight was the night she was going to make it official with Sukuna. So you’re here as Uruame’s emotional support, it’s the least you could do.

“Wish me luck,” she told you, squeezing you into a hug as you both went different ways at the party. You lost her quickly in the sea of people as you made your way to Maki and Toge.

Maki’s dipping her toe in the pool while Toge is floating next to her. Their hair dripping, evident of having already swum before you arrived. You join them.

“Ten dollars she’ll back down like last time,” Maki teases you, nudging your side with a wide knowing smirk.

“Hey,” your voice stern. “Leave her be.”

Toge swims over to you. “What? She’s backed down like, five other times.”

“Be nice.” Your feet kick water his way, he dodges easily. “I think she’s serious about it now.”

“Yea and Sukuna had to call you to pick her drunk ass self up.”

Maki dismisses the comment with a wave of her hand. “And you’re okay with that? With her making it exclusive with Sukuna and everything.”

You shrug, looking into the pool water, focusing on the bracelet he had given you for your birthday. “It’s not about me being okay with it, it’s about me being supportive and happy for her.”

Maki hums. “Speaking of, have you said happy birthday to the birthday boy yet?”

You shake your head, thankful for the quick conversation change. “Nope. Didn’t see him when I walked in. I’ll do it later.”

Toge snorts before diving back into the water. The night continues on like this, with Yuta joining after finally being able to get away from the guys. All while this is happening, you can’t help but constantly scan the lawn and house in hopes of catching those eyes. You keep telling yourself it’s Uruame’s you’re trying to keep watch of but your heart knows otherwise.

You’re on your way back from the bathroom, heading back to the poolside when someone taps your shoulder.

You turn and it's the man of the hour.

The smile begins to grow on your face before you even know it. "I was beginning to worry if I'd get to see the birthday boy," you tease him a bit.

Sukuna rolls his eyes at that. "'m sorry. Being the host and birthday boy is not for the weak.

As Maki, Toge, and Yuta get out of the pool to dry themselves to join you both, a group of frat boys head your way. Mahito at the front, holding a tray of shots. “You guys wanna take a shot for the birthday boy?” His smile on his face gives you chills, and you haven’t even gone in the water.

Before you know it, everyone has a shot in their hand. Everyone besides you. Mahito notices this and nudges the glass into your hand. Sukuna scowls at this and brushes his hand off as a warning. “She doesn’t want a drink.”

“It’s okay,” you offer a small smile to your friend before timidly taking it. “It’s for Sukuna, right?”

Mahito throws a smile you don’t catch to Sukuna before stepping closer and raising his glass, “The one and only.”

Everyone incoherently says cheers before downing the shot. As you bring the glass to your mouth, you wince at the burning sensation. Mahito takes the opportunity to begin pouring you another shot. A tattooed hand covers yours before it can reach your lips. Just as smoothly, Sukuna somehow takes the glass out of your hand and downs it just as quickly before giving a cold stare at Mahito. “What did I just tell you?”

Mahito only laughs. “What? It’s just for fun, it’s your birthday.”

“Yea, so fuck off.”

You’re all just standing there timidly, frozen, unsure of what to do. Afraid to make one small move in the tense atmosphere. You watch as Mahito raises a hand in surrender before turning around and leaving.

Sukuna turns to your group before sighing, “Sorry about that. Mahito’s… just ignore him. Don’t think too much about it.”

You give him a reassuring smile when he lingers on you. “Alright.” You rock on your heels. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” he says almost sheepishly and you want to tease him.

“Actually-” You rummage through your pockets, wondering where the keychain was when Toji hollers at him. You both look at the man and he freezes, realizing he’s interrupting a moment again. You laugh and wave Sukuna off, “Go.”

“You sure?” he’s already walking away backwards, trying to read your face for an absolute answer.

You nod your head enthusiastically before Sukuna turns back and yells back at Toji, nearly tackling him down.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As the hours go by, you aren’t ever able to reconnect with the birthday boy. There were fleeting moments whenever you both caught each other's eyes from across the room. Moments where you are both so close to closing the gap, your hand in your pocket for the keychain you want to give him before you’re both pulled away in different directions.

The moment you are able to get away from your friend croup and the entire crowd, you stumble upon your roommate in a corner on the verge of blacking out. You immediately rush over, gently tapping her. When she doesn’t respond in the first few taps, you start to panic.

As her head falls into your hand and you feel her wet saliva coating it, she mumbles out your name. Her eyes are unfocused, darting everywhere, not quite focusing on one thing. You hate that you know this is a sign that whatever Uruame planned didn’t go accordingly. You curse under your breath.

You repeat her name over and over again. “Do you want some water?” you ask quickly, trying to squeeze in as many questions and information in the small time window before she’s unconscious again.

The moment she nods, you pull her into a lounge chair nowhere near the pool and frantically make your way inside the house. You’re scrambling around the kitchen before you bump into the man of the hour.

“Whoa, slow down there,” he teases, grabbing onto your hands to steady yourself.

You look up at him and his smile immediately drops.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

Getting out of his grip, you sigh, pinching the space between the eyes. “It’s Uruame again. She’s literally on the verge of blacking out.”

“Again?”

Turning your head to your side, you look outside to make sure she somehow hasn’t moved. “What did you say to her?”

Sukuna cranes his head down, trying to catch your eyes, hand barely twitching as his side.. “Nothing that would have caused her to be like this again.” He calls out your name. “Really, what is this about?”

If he truly didn’t know why Uruame was like this, then who did? You wouldn’t entertain the thought. Wouldn’t allow yourself to. You shake your head. “It’s nothing. I was looking for some water bottles and it’s- I think it’s time for us to go home.”

As reluctant as he was, the tall man can only nod. “At least let me help.”

You shake your head, hands moving in disapproval. “No, I can’t allow that. It’s your birthday.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind”

And so you’re walking side by side with the pinked harried man as you take him to Uruame. All you both can do is look down at your roommate and sigh. “Lemme go get her stuff. Try to make her drink some water, okay?”

You hum. Just as you’re finished giving some water to Uruame, Mahito calls out your name. Before you can even fully turn to him, he wraps a heavy arm around your shoulders, making you freeze. Goosebumps immediately forming. “Let us be friends, yea? I feel like we were never properly introduced by the Sukuna all these years.”

“I’m sure it’s because it wasn’t necessary.”

Mahito cuts out a quick laugh, raising a brow to his friends. "I had an interesting talk with Uruame about it earlier tonight about you and Sukuna."

You’re trying to halt your steps at that. “Was it you?”

He laughs and that’s when you realise how much closer you’re walking along the edge of the pool. “Please, no.” The grip he has on you is deathening. “No, no, no!”

Sukuna stops rummaging around the pile of bags when he hears your distressed voice on the opposite side of the pool. “Mahito stop it!”

“I have to test one thing first,” he tells himself as he pushes you into the water.

As Sukuna watches you fall in, the sounds of laughs, cheers, and clapping erupt around him and he’s taken back to freshman year all over again. The way you had told him you couldn't swim when he tried too hard to invite you to a party as a means to talk to you more. The way your eyes got so big and filled with worry.

Sukuna doesn’t care how many people he has to push out of his way before he’s jumping in right after you. He’s not taking any chances on seeing if you resurfaced. As he swam in the water, he saw the way you were struggling, clawing at the water for anything to grasp onto.

When you nearly rip his skin off from grabbing him, Sukuna emerges from the water, holding you close to him. He cradles your head as he searches for you, “It’s okay. I’m here, just breathe. Breathe.”

The crowd slows to a murmur before it’s completely silent as they watch Sukuna carry you out of the pool, face hidden in his neck. Toji is standing there, breathless, having run from upstairs of the house to see what the commotion was. He stalks to the nearest person and tears their phone out of their hand and into the water. “Anybody else want to be next?”

Mahito shoves past Toji, displaying his best grin. “It was just a joke, Sukuna. No need to be so fucking serious.”

Sukuna walks past him, not sparing his president a single glance.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Sukuna gently sets you down on his bed, not caring for one moment about it getting wet. He’s frantically moving around the room, almost as if he were trying to collect his thoughts before handing you a towel and turning away to look through his drawers. You’re trying to dry yourself before he tells you, “Hands up.”

You listen immediately and feel him pull your shirt off and replace with a new one. You know this scent, smell it all the time whenever he’s over at the apartment. You look down but you already know it’s his shirt you have on.

You’re still shaking, trembling even. Where’s Uruame? The last time you saw her, she was drunk and making a scene. You only had one drink, but would you even have the capacity to drive you both home? Especially in the state you were in? Maybe-

He calls your name. “Hey, look at me. Look at me.” Sukuna’s voice is soft but stern. He crouches down to be eye level with you, combing your wet strands away from your face. “Listen to me carefully, okay?”

You look at him and his eyes are dark; serious. Not a hint of that glint and playfulness he usually has. You swallow.

“Use my towel and dry up. I found some of Uruame’s sweats in my drawer, so you can change and put those on.”

As much as that statement hurts, you need to focus. More than ever. Everything was too hectic. You can only nod.

“Okay, okay,” he runs a hand through his still wet hair. “Toji’ll help you guys leave the party, I can’t do much right now. You didn’t drink right?”

You can barely shake your head.

He curses. “Then he'll also get you guys a cab to go home, got that? Make sure Uruame lies on her side when she sleeps. And put the trash can beside her in case she throws up.”

Why was this happening? What had Sukuna done? What had Majito done? You didn’t really understand what was happening. One moment you were having the time of your life and the next you were pushed into the water.

You’re pulled back into reality when he grabs your chin to look up at him. “You’re gonna be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You can barely hum out an acknowledgement before a tear slips from your eye, and he’s there to catch it. His thumb tracing over the contours of your cheek. The moment is fleeting as he leaves the room. There, he stops, barely looking over his shoulder before saying “I’m sorry” and the door closes behind him. His warmth you felt on your face lingers a little longer than he ever has.

And it’s moments like these where you wished freshman year never happened. That you never knew the man called Sukuna Ryomen. All you can do is curl up into yourself.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Sukuna, listen-” Toji approaches the man of the hour after he helps you take Uruame home. But all the man does is brush past him in quiet fury.

All Sukuna can think about as he stalks to him is the look of terror painted in your face as you wer shoved into the water. They way you had begged Mahito to not do it, your voice laced with fear. The way your body went from fighting with the water to being limp within seconds.

Most importantly, he remembers the sneer on Mahito’s face. The way his eyes lit up in sadistic joy. The way his group of friends laughed with him. The way everyone laughed along with them.

Sensing the birthday boy, Mahito turns with that lopsided grin.

Sukuna punches him in the face before letting him have the first word, causing Mahito to stumble a bit. Before he can gain his footing, Sukuna grabs him by the collar of his shirt and punches him again.

Heterochromia eyes look up at him in shock then humor as he stays seated on the ground, nursing his bruising cheek. Everyone who’s watching already knows how ugly the bruise will be tomorrow.

Tattooed hands grab him by the collar of his shirt again, lifting Mahito up to his height. “I told you not fuck things up.”

The grey-blue haired man turns his head to spit out the blood accumulating in his mouth, offering Sukuna a blood coated smile. “I was just trying to have some fun.”

“Fun?” Sukuna spits out, bringing Mahito’s face closer to his. “She doesn’t know how to swim, you could’ve killed her.”

“Well, lucky that her knight and shining armour came to the rescue just in time.”

Sukuna growls and goes for another punch.

But before he can do more damage, Toji shoves them both away. When the red eyed man tries to come at Mahito again, Toji has to use all his strength to push him away again. “Stop it,” he grits out. He turns to look at Mahito. “Both of you.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Slamming the door to his room, Toji yells at his friend. “What the fuck are you thinking?”

Sukuna runs his hands into his now dried hair, not turning around. “He deserved it.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

It is only then, with that statement, that Sukuna spins around. “It doesn’t matter? It doesn’t matter? Because of him, Yn could have died. Don’t tell me it doesn’t matter.”

The scar-lipped man looks down at him. “You know that’s not what I meant. You just made things more complicated.”

“I don’t care. Because…”

“Because what!?” Toji finally snaps. “You don’t even know what you want!”

“I want her!” Sukuna professes. And then there’s silence as the words sink in. Toji refuses to speak as he simply watches his friend process those words. Watches as dread follows realization.

In a softer tone, Sukuna continues, “From the moment I saw her, I knew.” He swallows. “I have always wanted her.”

“You don’t mean that,” But when his friend gives Toji that look of resolution, of unwavered certainty, it’s his turn to swallow. “You can’t possibly mean that, you’re with Uruame.”

“I tried! I tried so hard to get her away from me!” Sukuna pulls on his hair and looks to Toji for help. “I just couldn’t stay away from her!”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“I can’t do anything!” The pink hair holds up his wrist in agony. “I’m stuck! Jin’s health is deteriorating and father refuses to help because of that woman, so no one can watch over Itadori but me. I can barely make it to my classes in order to take care of him. I’ve been avoiding Uruame because I know she wants more than what I can give her and I can barely stand to be in the same fucking room as Mahito without wanting to strangle him! So tell me Toji, tell me how I’m supposed to push this all on Yn? She doesn’t deserve to be part of this mess, she-”

Toji grabs Sukuna and pulls him into a hug. “It’s okay. You know I’ll be here for you. It’ll be okay.”

And then Sukuna breaks down.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Sukuna’s visits become less and less to the point where he stops coming at all. You try not to think too much about it until Uruame comes back to the apartment slamming the door closed yelling at the top of her lungs about how much of a bitch the pink haired man can be before she gets into a sobbing mess about how polite he was in turning her down even after months of hooking up.

And so you never see him around ever, anywhere. There are occasional times when you see him rushing to class, but that’s about it. His group dwindled smaller and smaller until it was just him and Toji. Most of the time, he was alone. Headphones on. Shoulders a lot heavier. Hair longer and messier. You notice the black and red varsity jacket that he always wore proudly that displayed his fraternity was no longer seen on him. You also weren’t sure if you saw it correctly, but you were sure you saw a cast on his leg one day too.

“Broke his ankle,” Maki says, so nonchalantly that you almost miss it. “Got it stepped on in a qualifying game. Out for the rest of the reason.”

“What?” you stop taking notes and stare at her.

“Heard it from Yuta. Covered his face when he was carried off the field.” She sighs and looks at you. “Luckily no surgery was needed.”

“Yea…” Panda adds. “He’s in some deep shit right now from what the rumors say.”

That only deepens your furrowed brows.

“He punched the president of his fraternity straight through the face in one of the parties last week." Panda smirks. "Wished I was there to witness it."

Your pencil stops. That was the night you fell into the pool.

"He got kicked out," Toge states matter of factly.

Panda hums. "Makes sense. Supposedly he and the president never got along in the first place. Sukuna wanted to run for president and was shot down at any chance he got. They were always disagreeing on things. Pretty sure the fight was the perfect excuse for the president to use against Sukuna to kick him out."

“Do you know why?” you finally have the courage to muster out, afraid your voice would betray your emotion if your face wasn’t already.

Maki shrugs. “Not really. Yuta just told me the president had whispered something into his ear and the next thing he knew, he saw Sukuna punch Mahito in the face. Even Toji struggled to get the man off. Toji of all people. Can you believe that?”

Whatever concentration you have has dissipated. None of this made sense. Sure he looked like a rough person but you've seen him. Seen the way he put leftovers in the fridge and wrote, “feel free to take some, made too much,” on a hello kitty sticky note whenever he cooked for him and Uruame when you came home past midnight. Who, even after two weeks of you having eaten it, asks how you liked it. Sukuna, who as Uruame recounted for you, had helped you into your room when you stumbled into the apartment a little bit past tipsy and that you should be grateful towards him. Sukuna, who, after a rugby game and after putting down Uruame from a tight embrace, greets and bows to you and your friend group politely. Not leaving a single one out.

It just didn’t add up. It wasn’t the Sukuna you knew, was it? Then again, you guys were barely friends. Not even considered acquaintances. Just fleeting moments and encounters sprinkled across three years.

That was the last anyone ever saw Sukuna for the last half of the semester of junior year. Not even Toji. "Even if I did, I wouldn't tell ya." He answers you after weeks of persistence before quickly walking away from you. Expelled. Dropped out. That was what you hear around campus.

As rapid as the fire was, it dissipated just as quickly. A whisper of a ghost. Sukuna who? No one knew of that person. The rugby team spoke about him as a martyr. The fraternity scorned it out of existence.

The only recorded memory was his name scorched in those books.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You tap your feet to the ticking of the clock, hoping that it'll help fasten up the pace at the coffee shop. You were angry at yourself for losing a bet with Toge and now you are going to be fetching the group coffee in the morning for the next month.

"I can help the next person here!" A worker calls, frantically trying to set up the cashier station. Quickly wiping off washed hands, he asks, "Sorry ‘bout the wait, what can I get you?"

"Sukuna?"

He looks up from his hat, frozen in place by who’s in front of him. "Yn?"

Sukuna sees the way you look him up and down and he’s almost embarrassed. "I didn't know you worked here. Um, three iced Americans please, if you would."

He shrugs, punching in the order. "I actually work in the back. Had to open up this cash register to help with the rush hour. Medium size?"

You can only nod as you continue to stare at him. He had a cap on but from the tips poking out, you can tell his pink hair has faded to a warm salmon color, a whisper of the past he’s trying to forget, or correct. You purse your lips and look at him. Really look at him. It's been almost six months since you've seen him. His arms look a little stronger. That smile, though a little awkward right now, is just a little softer. His eyes are just as you remember. You pass him your card.

He pushes it back, shaking his head. "It's okay. It's on me."

"No,” you huff, trying to smile but failing. “I couldn’t-"

And then he's yelling out the order to the back and passing the receipt. "It was nice seeing you again, Yn." And the next person is already approaching his register.

For some reason, you feel guilty for not telling Uruame about running into Sukuna. In fact, you don’t tell her at all. Or anyone, really. Your secret to keep, your secret to tell.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Somehow, it slowly became a routine for the both of you. Oftentimes, you’re surprised no one in your friend group has caught on to you, sometimes purposely losing the monthly bet just to catch Sukuna at the cafe.

It’s harmless, you often told yourself. You weren’t doing anything wrong, per say. It had taken you a few weeks to get Sukuna’s work hours right, but when you did, even he couldn’t help but have his eyes drawn to the door whenever the chime rang through the cafe.

You crouch in front of the little boy, offering him a soft smile with a tilt of your head. "I like your pink beanie."

Itadori beams in his seat. "Thank you! Me too!" Then he leans in closer and you can't help but reciprocate. "Grandpa says I can't dye my hair pink like Uncle Sukuna or else he’d kill me so Uncle Sukuna bought me a pink beanie instead."

You can't help but chuckle. "Oh, that's too bad."

"It's okay! He told me secretly that when I move in with him he'll dye my hair the same color!" He closes his eyes with satisfaction.

You offer him a high five and he takes it.

Sukuna scoffs teasingly and you turn at the noise. He's drying off a mug as you walk up to the counter, pulling up a seat. "Don't encourage his behavior. I don’t want him to turn out like me."

You give him a lopsided grin and he nearly drops the ceramic object. "Would that be so bad?"

"Yes," he looks past you, his eyes softening. Something you haven't seen often now. "I want him to be better than me.”

You toy with the sugar packets. “I think you’re a good role model in his life.”

Sukuna finally sets the mug down, shaking his head. “What good am I? Some college drop-out working at some deadbeat job?”

“You’re just taking a break right now to focus on your family. You’re doing it for him.”

The barista puts his hands on the edge of the counter, flexing it, looking once more at Itadori, who gives him a big smile before Sukuna’s line of sight is back on you. “You don’t understand. I’m not a good person.”

“You are,” you tell him firmly.

“I’m not, just look at me.” His voice is full of disdain and poisonous venom.

“All I see is you, Sukuna,” your voice a soft whisper.

He frowns at that.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Maki flicks her gaze your way before quickly looking away and at Toge instead, bulging out her eyes out as if sending him a message. Toge raises both his eyebrows and jerks his head to Panda, who is sitting besides you, sipping his milkshake. Panda, shaking his head in refusal, silenting slices his neck in the air with his finger before pointing it at the platinum blonde boy.

Toge frowns and resorts to stomping on Maki's feet, to whom yelps and bangs her knee on the table. It is only then that you stop staring at your phone and look up at them quizzically.

Maki throws her fist in the air as a silent threat to Toge before putting on a smile to you. “Are you okay?”

“Yea, why wouldn’t I be?” you tell them curtly.

“Well I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you haven’t even noticed the fries that Panda has been stealing or the fact that you’ve been staring at your phone as if- OW!” Toge’s knee jerks up to hit the table as Maki shoots him a death glare.

“You haven’t been engaging with us at all today,” Maki clarifies.

It was true, but you couldn’t help it. After that conversation with Sukuna, he wasn’t messaging you as much nor was he in the cafe whenever you stopped by. You didn’t think you had done anything that day to set him off. Actually, you were entitled to anything. But instead, all you can muster is, “I’m okay, really. Just a busy day at my internship, you know how it is.”

As Panda nods in fake understanding, milkshake forgotten as he makes eye contact with the other two.

Given the signal, Maki reaches over the table to touch your hand. “We know.”

You freeze at that. “See? So there’s nothing-”

The twin shakes her head. “No, we know.”

“I don’t- I-”

Panda finally speaks up. “It’s okay.”

This time it’s Toge who steals one of your remaining fries. “Do you know how often you were smiling at your phone? How much happier you were suddenly? Not to mention, how often you were losing the bets when we all know how good you are at winning them?”

You open your mouth to deny those claims but Panda steps in again nonchalantly.

“Plus, you left your phone open when you went to use the bathroom two weeks ago at Yuta’s apartment. We all saw the notification from him.”

All you can do is stare at them in silence. Afraid to speak. Afraid to understand all of this. They look at you in return, just watching. Not a single one is pressuring you. Finally, “What do I do guys?”

“That’s for you to finally decide on. What you both decide on,” Maki tells you.

Toge chimes in, “What we’re gonna do is order another milkshake and fries.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Sukuna is sweeping up the floor when he hears the sharp chime of the door. “We’re closed-”

And then he looks up, because he can hear the heavy breathing and his ears tell him all that he needs to know before even looking up. He stops sweeping. “What are you doing here?”

“Have I upset you?” you can barely breathe and you’re not quite sure if it’s from the running or the adrenaline coursing through your body from spontaneously showing up like this.

Sukuna leans the broom against a chair and stuffs his hand into his pockets. “No?”

His body language ticks something off inside of you. “Then can you explain why you have been avoiding me? Whenever I come into the cafe, I never seem to catch you when you’re in. I’m sorry if I offended you the other day, I didn’t mean to.”

The tattooed man looks up at the ceiling for a long time. So long in fact that you’re about to repeat what you’ve just said again, a hundred times if you needed to, until he says, “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?!” you finally tell him, trying your hardest to catch his eyes.

“It’s complicated. You wouldn’t understand.”

“What you don’t understand,” you step closer to him, voice catching, “is that I don’t know my own heart anymore. I don’t even know how to name what I'm feeling. I thought we were friends, and yet--”

Sukuna physically flinches. “We can’t be friends.”

Your brows furrow, getting further and further from ever truly understanding what’s going on in his brain, what’s going on with him. You can’t even comprehend what he’s saying. “What?”

“Because,” he finally says, voice shaking, “I don’t want to be your friend. We can’t be just friends.” He looks up at you and his eyes are so full with pain and longing it actually takes your breath away. “I love you.”

He breaks.

His voice. His face. His heart.

He can’t meet your eyes, almost shameful. “I love you,” he says, his words harsh and soft and vulnerable all at once. “But this isn’t how I wanted it to be.”

“Sukuna-”

He trembles at the sound of his name falling from your lips, finally, finally looking at you. “Please, leave. I can’t bear it anymore.”

And then you’re digging into your pockets, fishing out the worn out baby tiger keychain from years of carrying it. The same keychain you had mistakenly taken with your belongings when you rushed out of his dorm room after the kiss. The constant and only reminder that it had happened, that it wasn’t somehow a mistake. Amongst the warm metal, the keychain trembles in your hand as you hold it out to him.

“I’ve carried it all this time,” you tell him softly. “I meant to, somehow, give it to you earlier, but there was never a proper moment. But I think now is a good time to let it go.”

Sukuna takes it into his hands, face unreadable as he turns it over in his palms.

It was you.

The lucky charm, a matching keychain set Sukuna bought for Itadori when he was born. He still can remember the devastated look his nephew gave Sukuna when he broke the news of losing his pair.

It was the same one he spent all these years looking for; turning over each furniture in the house and driving Toji up the wall because he refused to play in any rugby game, be in any conference, or take any test without it. He thought he had lost it but all along it was you who had it. Yes… all along it was you.

He looks up and he finds that your eyes are searching his just as his are to yours. The keychain somehow burning in his palms with every passing second.

Sukuna can feel lit. He can feel you slipping away as you turn away from him and start to walk away. His voice catches in his throat and he has to swallow twice before finally saying, “I want you.” You stop. “From the moment I saw you at orientation, I have always wanted you.”

“From the moment I kissed you, I was yours. You were never going to be just an easy hook-up but I was afraid of hurting you. I’m not a good person.” He wants you to turn around, but Sukuna knows he doesn’t deserve that from you. Not after all that he’s put you through. "You are my oxygen. When I'm with you, it's like a breath of fresh air. When I’m not near you, I can't breathe without you.

“I do,” you state simply, words hanging on by a thread, “I do think of you. All the time. I wanted to forget but I couldn't.”

You finally turn around to look at him. “You stole my first kiss, and my heart. These past three years I tried to forget these feelings, forget everything, ashamed because I thought I was the only one.

“Never.”

Your entire body is trembling as you turn in resolution. “Don’t. Don’t give me hope. I can’t- we can’t. Uruame-”

“I know.” Boldly, he closes the distance between you and cups your face. In a whisper, “I know. I’ll figure something out, we'll make it work. I promise you that.”

“Sukuna,” you cry out, hand on his wrists. Unsure, just like him. You want to shake your head but his hands stop you from doing so, eyes never leaving yours. You’re unsure about all of this and you think he is too but then soft lips reach yours.

The kiss is tentative, wary, hesitant and when you open up to him and reciprocate, you hear a sigh leave his entire body. Sukuna’s grip on your face tightens as if he doesn’t want to let this moment go; as if he didn’t hold you tight enough you’d disappear. The kiss, started shy and uncertain, becomes bold and unyielding.

You pull him just as close. Lips following a steady rhythm, almost like a song written on a track record you had forgotten all these years. With every passing moment, the kiss deepens, as if it were trying to make up for all the longing stares and stolen touches, of unvoiced desires and quiet understanding.

Sukuna savors every breath and taste and commits it to memory. His hand makes it to the bottom of your shirt, finger slipping under to simply stay there on your abdomen. Something to ground him. His lips are slow and searching, drinking you in one moment and barely there the next.

Before you step back, he pulls you in for one more kiss. He sighs your name as he holds you close. Too soon, he pulls away. He’s breathing hard, and his gaze is still fixed on your mouth.

You attempt a deep breath, but there’s no oxygen in the room. Everything is him. Everything is Sukuna. His fingers clench tight around your waist, holding you in place.

You try to tilt your head so you can fuse his mouth to yours but he takes over the movement, guiding your head to the perfect angle so he can trace his tongue over your lips.

Every little insignificance and coincidences, all the struggles and problems fade to nothing as the both are able to embrace each other.

Sukuna runs a thumb across your cheek before tucking a strand back into place. He sighs your name as he holds you close. “I-”

Your lips are still warm. You feel his lips on every syllable you speak. “I love you, Sukuna.”

He puts his forehead against yours and smiles. “I love you too.”

And you know, whatever happens next, you'll both figure it out.

[tranquilreign]

hi can i request a female reader x jk angst? the plot is jk's wife passed away like a year~2 years ago but he never moved on bcs he loves her so much maybe she's his first love?? but he's a well-known ceo so his family cant afford public seeing jk weak or it will affect their business, so they arranged his marriage with reader, a daughter of their business partner. jk always ignore her in their marriage but she never stops trying, but at one point jk did something that hurts her so she ran away and plan to divorce.. thats when jk realise how bad he's been treating her.. sorry for being too specific, u can change anything as u like 😭🙏🏻 i'm hoping for a happy ending but after jk has suffered LMAO anyways thank u so much in advance if u could write this request 🥹🫶🏻

without you | requested oneshot

- © tranquilreign - all rights reserved | DO NOT STEAL, TAKE, or COPY any of MY WORK without MY PERMISSION.

🗒 details

pairing; jungkook/reader genre: angst, fluff, arranged marriage au! ceo au! warnings: loss, swearing, slight neglect, arranged marriage word count: 4.2k

🖋 synopsis

without (pre.) wuh·thowt in the absence of

when jungkook's image begins to crumble due to the loss of his wife, his family force him into an arranged marriage to keep their strong influence.

🖇links

jungkook masterlist main masterlist request | request rules prompt list

Jeon Jungkook. CEO of Golden Closet Corporations. A powerful, wealthy man. But broken. The news of his wife's death spread like wildfire when it was confirmed. He couldn't escape the images of his wife's face. She was everywhere he looked.

Being who he was, Jungkook couldn't properly grieve. Maintaining the perfect, pristine image as CEO. Though months passed by, Jungkook stayed the same. Stoic, unhappy. His employees had noticed the cracks first.

The way he would stay in his office for hours, claiming he was working, when in fact he was weeks behind. Lashing out at employees and even trashing his own office at one point.

Rumours quickly spread throughout the building, then into the press about Jungkook's behaviour. Contracts were cut, and new connections were declined due to Jungkooks state.

Eventually, his family had to get involved, turning up unannounced one evening at his home. Jungkook reluctantly let them in, letting them walk into the living room to sit down.

The house wasn't as clean as it used to be. Dirty dishes sat piled in the sink with the dishwasher open, showing clean dishes that hadn't been put away. The lights and table surfaces were dusty, something which Jungkook typically hated. It made his parents cringe at his lack of hygiene.

"Son," Jungkook's father began, leaning forward on the couch, elbows resting on his knees.

His eyes were stern, disapproving of his son's behaviour. Jungkook would usually shrink at his father's gaze, but he was numb. No amount of dissatisfaction he felt from his father fazed him. His own disappointment in himself clouded that.

"Kookie," his mother spoke faintly, moving to place her hand on his knee.

He looked at her, his eyes filled with nothing. Empty. She squeezed his knee reassuringly, but the look in her eyes told a different story. She was looking at him apologetically, which confused Jungkook. His eyes moved back to his father.

"Your past actions are having a severe impact on the company. On us," Jungkook's father explained.

Jungkook scoffed.

"Is that what you are here to talk to me about? My reputation. Your reputation," Jungkook snapped. "In case you've forgotten, my wife-" he paused, feeling the lump in his throat.

"Yes, we know. Your wife died... a year and a half ago," his father brushed off.

"What your father means to say-" his mother responded quickly. "Is that we know you are going through a difficult time, but lashing out at your employees isn't helping you."

Jungkook huffed, leaning back in his seat, looking out the window, staring at the city skyline. He remembered how he would sit with his wife, watching the sunset together as he held her close. He would whisper sweet nothings into her ear, embracing her in a long, loving kiss, as the sun sank behind the skyscrapers.

"You're getting married."

Jungkook's head shot round, now glaring at his father. How could he be expected to remarry when he hadn't even been given the chance to properly grieve his wife?

"No."

The two men stared at one another, silently challenging each other. Their gazes were intense, the atmosphere making Jungkook's mother shift in her seat uncomfortably. Jungkook's jaw clenched at his father, who wasn't backing down.

"If you don't remarry-" his father paused, "we'll take everything away from you. Your position, your home. We'll take every memory you have with your wife out of this house away from you."

Jungkook's eyes softened. He had built a life with the woman he loved in this home. It was their dream house, exactly how they wanted it. He couldn't give it up, letting go of all those memories. He would never see her again in his dreams, the only time he felt truly at peace.

"That's what I thought," his father spoke, tone low. Jungkook's head hung, staring at the floor.

His mother made a move to comfort him, but was stopped by her husband. They stood, making a move to leave the house.

"Will you at least tell me whom I am to marry?" Jungkook asked, looking up at his parents.

His father turned around, his grip on his wife's hand loosened, letting it drop to her side. She looked at her son with sorrowful eyes, wishing nothing more than to see her son happy again.

"Her name is Y/n L/n. She is the daughter of a rival company, but through this marriage, we will unite under one name."

His father walked out of the apartment, leaving Jungkook's mother as she looked at her helpless son.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," she soothed. "I know this isn't what you wanted, or what you'd ever want. But please, at least try."

Jungkook's eyes stung from the tears that rolled down his cheeks. His mother's heart broke at the sight, wanting nothing more than to embrace her son and reassure him that everything would be okay.

With one final goodbye, she left, leaving him completely and utterly alone.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Jungkook stood silently at the altar, the crowd muttering amongst themselves as they waited for the ceremony to start. The CEO unknowingly fiddled with his watch, feeling exposed. His father had made sure to make this a large, extravagant wedding, which was against Jungkook's wishes.

"It's to make a statement, Jungkook. Showing the world that we've made peace with our rivals."

At that moment, the crowd quietened down as the music picked up. Jungkook looked at the double doors at the back of the room. His mind wandered back to the day when his wife walked through similar doors, her face hidden by her veil. But he knew she would be beautiful. She always was.

He smiled slightly, expecting his wife to be behind the doors. Knowing it was too good to be true, his smile faltered back into his stoic expression. The doors opened, revealing a woman.

In her hands, she held a stunning arrangement of white tulips and roses, elegantly spaced among each other. Her dress was beautiful, featuring off-the-shoulder sleeves that showcased her radiant skin. It struck the perfect balance between lace and silk. Small rhinestones adorned the dress, creating an ombre effect that cascaded from the bodice to the floor.

Her face was not hidden behind a veil; instead, her hair was styled delicately, with a few curled strands falling down the sides and framing her face. Her chest rose and fell quickly, clearly indicating her nervousness.

Jungkook locked eyes with you, noting your innocence. But you still smiled at him, appreciating his presence. Jungkook hesitantly held out his hand to you when you reached the altar, which you gladly took.

Gracefully, you lifted your dress, making sure not to tread on the expensive fabrics as you ascended the stairs. You stood in front of Jungkook now, looking between him and the priest to your left.

Jungkook stood, imagining it was his deceased wife in front of him, hoping there was some escape in this nightmare.

"Mr. Jeon?" the priest asked.

The man looked at the priest, then at you. You were looking around, biting your lip nervously.

"Do you take Y/n to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

Jungkook hesitated for a moment, the tension in the room growing thicker as the silence continued. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh.

"Yes. I do," he replied dryly.

You let out the breath you didn't realise you had been holding. You had responded immediately to the priest's question, smiling reassuringly at Jungkook.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Jungkook didn't hesitate, wanting this to be over with. He pulled you in by the waist and kissed you. It was short, with no passion lingering in his touch. He pulled away, both of you turning to the guests who clapped excitedly for you.

You tried to slide your hand into his, but he retracted. He had eventually moved it into yours as he escorted you out of the hall and into the street, which was bustling with reporters and paparazzi.

All questions were ignored as he guided you to the limousine, opening the door and indicating for you to get in. You compiled, the flashing of the cameras beginning to bother your eyes. Jungkook moved around to the other side, quickly getting in. The vehicle sped off, leaving the reporters and guests behind.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

The after party was uneventful, parents and friends giving speeches, dancing and drinking. You and Jungkook hadn't had anything to drink, growing uncomfortable in the growing silence between the two of you.

When you had made it back to his place, Jungkook tugged his tie off and threw his jacket onto the couch. He sighed, his head falling back, the realisation finally sinking in. You had been arranged to live with him.

"Take the bed, I'll sleep on the couch," he muttered.

Jungkook didn't want to disrespect the loving nights he shared with his past wife. It was their bed, and he wouldn't ruin those memories by having another woman beside him.

"Are you sure? I can take the couch instead," you suggested.

You were well aware of Jungkook's loss. Having seen the rumours in the news about his behaviour and coldness. You knew he would never love you and that there would be no way you could replace his previous wife. But you wanted to try and make things as easy for him as possible.

"No. What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you sleep on the couch?"

You hummed in response, bowing a quick thank you to him, then disappeared into the bathroom. Your belongings had been moved in the previous day, while you and Jungkook's families were sorting the final few details of the wedding.

You gently took off your makeup and did your regular skin-care routine. Sliding your dress off your body, you changed into pyjamas and draped your wedding dress over your left arm.

Leaving the bathroom, you took notice of Jungkook, who was still in his suit, shoes now kicked off, lying down on the couch, watching as the sun set. You slowly approached him, sitting down on the chair to his left and looked out at the city.

"I'm sorry," you spoke softly.

Jungkook didn't look at you, making no movement or sound to indicate that he acknowledged your words. You continued nonetheless.

"I know this isn't what you wanted. And I am deeply sorry for the loss of your wife."

Jungkook stiffened at your words. No one had given him an ounce of sympathy since she had passed. It felt strange, unnatural, now receiving that comfort.

"I also know I will never be her. And I won't try to be her either," you paused. "But please know, I will do my best to make your life comfortable and happy."

For the first time since the ceremony, he looked at you. He said nothing, eyes almost empty. You caught a slight sliver of appreciation for your words. He then moved, lying on his back and closing his eyes. You took that as your cue to leave.

"Good night," you whispered, standing up and making your way over to the bedroom.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

A few months had passed since you had been wed. Not much had changed; Jungkook was still quiet and barely acknowledged your presence. But he showed his appreciation for you being there for him in small ways.

Whether it was bringing home take-out for both of you when you'd had a long day. Or when he would silently run a bath for you when he had noticed you rubbing your shoulders in discomfort.

The awkwardness had eased between you, but sometimes it was still there. You never knew what exactly to say to him. He wore the same stoic expression, never once smiling or becoming angry.

You had awoken early one morning, yawning and climbing out of bed, and groggily walking into the kitchen. You glanced at the clock ticking away quietly on the tiled wall. 5:00 am.

Jungkook slept peacefully on the couch, still refusing to share a room with you. Yet you had often caught him in your supposed shared bedroom. He would gently graze the bedsheets with his fingertips, memories of his passed wife easing into his mind. It was the only time you'd truly see him at peace.

Jungkook inhaled the sweet scent of bacon, the aroma waking him up from his slumber. He groaned slightly, sitting up on the couch and looking around the room. Turning in his seat, he looked at you, his eyes still foggy.

"Good morning," you mused, giving him a gentle smile.

"Mina?"

Your smile faltered, turning back around to flip the bacon in the pan. Jungkook stood up, rubbing his eyes. Realisation came to him when he finally saw it was you in the kitchen, not the woman he loved so dearly. He cursed under his breath.

"Sorry."

"It's fine," you mumbled in response. "Like I said, I will never be her, or try to be her. I have no expectations from you."

Your words, for some reason, hurt Jungkook's heart. He was confused by the feeling growing in his chest. Shaking it off, he shuffled over to the island table in the kitchen and sat down at one of the seats.

"Mina used to make me this," he sighed, looking at the display before him.

Pancakes sat in the middle of the table, with an assortment of fruits and nuts, all in separate bowls. A glass jug of orange juice sat to his left, which Jungkook made a grab for immediately. He poured himself a glass, then looked around for yours.

"Are you not eating?" he asked.

"Hmm?" you asked, in a moment of confusion. "Oh, no. I'm not hungry."

Jungkook eyed you warily, watching you closely. You turned around, scooping the bacon out of the pan and placing it on his plate. He looked down, and it was exactly how he liked it.

"Thank you."

"It's alright. I won't make it again, though, if it was something Mina did. I don't want you to think-"

"No," Jungkook suddenly responded, taking both of you aback. "I appreciate you doing this for me. Please don't stop, if it's something you enjoy making."

A gentle smile graced your features as you sat down opposite him. You watched him eat, looking at his messy hair and baggy t-shirt. As time passed, with you and Jungkook living together, you had slowly begun to develop feelings for him.

You would never act on those feelings, however. Knowing Jungkook would never accept you. The loss of his wife still affected him so deeply to the point he still dreamt of her, and even envisioned her in the house.

You stretched, stepped out of your seat. Jungkook looked up from his food and couldn't help but stare at the way your t-shirt rode up, exposing a little bit of your stomach. He swallowed and looked away, scolding himself for his wandering eyes.

"Do you have any plans today?" you asked suddenly, moving out from the kitchen and to the living room, picking up the discarded pillows on the floor.

"No," Jungkook responded blankly. "You?"

"I was planning on doing some cleaning," you responded, fluffing the pillows that now sat on the couch. "I typically do it while you are at work, but I was so tired yesterday..." you trailed off, a slight blush spreading across your cheeks.

"Do you want me to help?"

You were surprised by his offer, not expecting him to want to help. You shook your head, holding up your hands and waving them in the air.

"No, no. It's alright, you just relax. I shouldn't be too long anyway," you explained sheepishly.

Jungkook finished the last of his food and picked up the empty plates. He moved over to the sink on the other side of the island, turning on the tap.

"At least let me do the dishes. It's the least I can do for you, making me breakfast," he spoke, his tone soft.

It was the first time he had sounded... human. It was surprising. You smiled at him and nodded, confirming his request.

"I'll start in the bedroom. If you need anything, just give me a shout," you said. "Excuse me."

You walked in behind him, trying to squeeze past him. You accidentally tripped, stumbling over your feet. Jungkook was quick to react, his arms wrapped around your waist, halting your fall. You jerked at the sudden stop, turning your head to look at him. Both of you held eye contact for a moment until he let out a grunt, helping you stand back upright.

"Thank you. Sorry."

"It's fine," Jungkook muttered shyly.

You bent down next to him, opening the bottom cupboard door and grabbing the feather duster. Instead of trying to squeeze past him again, you walked in the opposite direction around the island and into the bedroom.

Quietly, you hummed to yourself, dusting away and moving anything that could get in the way or get knocked over. You silently cursed to yourself when you had elbowed a small box off the bookshelf.

You bent down to pick it up, stopping when you noticed the contents had spilt out. A beautiful emerald ring encased in silver glittered against the sunlight. Carefully, you picked it up and examined it. It was beautiful.

You moved to pick up the box, and you placed it onto the set of drawers in front of the bed. Looking at it one more time, you were about to put it back in its box when Jungkook's voice boomed throughout the room.

"What the fuck are you doing!?"

You spun on the spot, stunned by his sudden tone. He was angry. With no hesitation, he stormed over to you and snatched the box and ring from you.

"I-I'm sorry," you stuttered out. "I accidentally knocked-"

"Shut the fuck up."

You fell silent. His glare didn't once leave you as he pocketed the box, ring now inside. He grabbed you by the arms tightly. You winced.

"Jungkook, you're hurting me."

"You will never touch that again. Do you hear me?!" he spat, his grip continuing to tighten until a scream escaped your lips.

In that moment, Jungkook felt his world crash down around him. He panicked, letting you go. You fell to the ground, holding your arms, trying to ease the pain.

"Fuck... Y/n, I'm so sorry," he went to move towards you, but you slid away from him, fear evident in your eyes.

Tears fell down your cheeks as you moved as far away as you could from him, your back hitting the wall when you could move no further. He ran both of his hands through his hair, fear and frustration clouding his mind.

He hurt you.

"I'm- I'm sorry," he breathed, backing away. "So... so sorry."

He ran for it, grabbing his jacket and leaving the house, the door creating a loud slam as he did so.

You sat back flush against the wall, exhaling in relief. You had never seen Jungkook so angry, and it terrified you. Based on his reaction, it must have been Mina's engagement ring, something which was clearly precious to Jungkook.

"That's gonna bruise," you muttered, examining your arms as you slowly stood up.

Grabbing the discarded feather duster, you shuffled back into the kitchen, putting it away. The ache in your arms was still evident, and in that moment, you decided that a bath was probably the best way to ease the pain.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Jungkook continued to run, the hard rain hitting against his face. He couldn't believe what he had just done. He put his hands on you. To hurt you. He wanted to hurt you. Because you had touched something precious to him. Something you weren't allowed to touch.

He stopped, catching his breath. He cried, not knowing what to do. Jungkook knew you weren't going to do anything with the ring. But the sight of you looking at it had him see red.

He leaned against the railings in the park, staring out at the pond, its usually still water disturbed by the pattering of the rain. Thunder crashed as the sky continued to darken, Jungkook's already soaked hair beginning to stick to his neck and face.

Jungkook had to make this right. He pushed himself off the railing and sprinted back to the apartment, praying you weren't already packing your things to leave him.

He pushed himself, lungs burning as they begged for breath, but he didn't stop. Turning the last corner to the street where you lived, he slid. He lost his breath, pitching forward and catching himself with his hands on the ground. He stumbled forward, eventually balancing out when he regained himself.

He barged into the apartment, not caring that he was leaving water all over the floor. He glanced around the room, looking for any sight of you. Running to the bedroom, his eyes widened when he saw the suitcase that sat on the bed, with clothes laid out.

"Y/n!" he shouted, between panting breaths.

No response. Without thinking, he turned to the bathroom, starting his search for you there.

You let out a high-pitched scream when Jungkook suddenly burst through the door. You move to cover yourself with your hands, trying to hide the most desirable parts of you.

"What the hell, Jungkook," you squeaked.

Your head was resting on your knees, which were tucked up against your chest. You were looking right at him, eyes blown wide at the circumstance you both were now in.

The sight before Jungkook didn't bother him. Instead, he dropped to his knees and shuffled towards you. He plunged his hand into the hot water, pulling your hand out and holding it in his.

"Please, don't leave Y/n," he begged, his head bowed as he did so.

"What-"

"Please. I don't know what I would do if you weren't here. You've helped me through so much. You have shown me kindness and that you care about me."

You were dumbstruck, unsure of the situation at hand. Had Jungkook hit his head while he was out? You didn't know, but you were more confused than ever.

"Jungkook, who said I was leaving?" you asked, lifting your head up.

Jungkook's head shot up, looking at you with tears in his eyes. He stuttered over his words, trying to find a way to explain his thought process. He stopped when his eyes wandered to your arm, a bruise beginning to form from where he grabbed you.

"I'm so sorry," he breathed, lifting your arm closer to him.

He planted a soft kiss against the bruise, his actions taking you by surprise. Jungkook pulled away, gently running his thumb over the injury, ashamed of his actions. He promised himself, from then on, that he would love and protect you. Forever.

In that moment, it was as if Jungkook had an epiphany. In the recent days of your relationship, whenever he closed his eyes, he thought he saw Mina. The love of his life.

Instead, he was seeing you. Smiling and holding out your hand for him to take. As if Jungkook was dreaming, he looked behind him, seeing Mina holding his other hand, caressing his knuckles lovingly.

"Go to her," Mina whispered. "Be happy again."

For the first time, after so long, Jungkook smiled, looking up at you. You raised an eyebrow, confused at his sudden reaction, but your heart warmed at his smile.

Jungkook moved his hands to cup your face. You stared at him, unsure of what he was doing. He didn't think, moving forward and pulling you into a soft, gentle kiss.

You immediately melted into him, closing your eyes, manoeuvring around in the bath so you faced him. His touch was warm, moving from your face to your jaw, holding you delicately, passion exploding between the two of you.

You were the first to pull away, moving your arm back around to cover your chest. Jungkook kept his eyes shut, panting softly. He felt warm, happy, something he had yearned for, for so long.

"It's taken me so long to realise," Jungkook whispered.

He placed his forehead against yours, opening his eyes and looking at you lovingly.

"That you are what I needed. Who I needed. You've helped me see, helped me realise that Mina wouldn't want me to grieve. To push everyone away."

You smiled at his words, moving away from him. He took your free hand in his, running his thumb over the back of your hand softly.

"I love you, Y/n," he breathed.

It was as if the world had stopped spinning. You looked at Jungkook, whose eyes held every emotion he had seemed to have forgotten long ago. Tears welled in your eyes, your hand squeezing his reassuringly.

"I love you, too."

hello guys! hope you enjoyed! this one felt rather long so i am sorry for that! and to the lovely person who requested. thank you so much!! you are the first to have requested and I really appreciate you doing so!

this was so much fun to write, despite it being sad, but it truly was a blast! i do hope this is what you had in mind when you requested. when I saw your ask this type of story immediately came to mind! i do hope that is okay!

tranquilreign~

[anghraine]

TMP is honestly this wild trip despite the glacial pacing at times, because it's like—

Vulcan woman: Spock, you've worked hard to purge yourself of all emotion, but your mind is picking up signals from some human and I guess some logic thing in space. my conclusion: you aren't racially pure enough to find your answers here

Spock: time to track down the pure logic thing and find the answers and meaning in my existence as a Vulcan that I've been searching for all my life and definitely never found in the past before all my previous character development got reset

[Meanwhile]

Kirk: so this unknown cosmic force is going to wipe out all life on Earth, and I've been placed in charge because I have a lot of experience dealing with bizarre dangerous cosmic shit as commander of this specific ship, in addition to my missing being in space because I was pushed into the admiralty at, like, age 39

Decker: *throws a series of tantrums about the prioritization of all of Earth above his ego for almost the entire mission*

Ilia: I have taken an oath of celibacy

Kirk: ... not super relevant. please just do your job

[Also, the transporter painfully melts some people we don't know into unrecognizable lumps of flesh. This is completely disconnected from the rest of the movie; it has no relevance to anything else, is immediately forgotten and never acknowledged again, and everyone acts like Bones is silly and paranoid for being nervous about going through the transporter]

Uhura: I think Admiral Kirk is obviously the person most qualified to command our incredibly dangerous and important mission, and we're damned lucky he got put in charge. if anyone cares

[everyone else]: *doesn't care*

McCoy: Jim, maybe you shouldn't make your mid-life crisis everyone else's problem

Decker: yeah! I should still be in charge! my solution is "don't take risks" when encountering the unknown and wait until systems are 100% safe before we do anything

Kirk: again let me reiterate that we need to act decisively even if it's risky or billions of people will die. we have to at least try, so waiting is not an option here

Spock: *shows up and, despite being icy and dismissive, immediately fixes all their most pressing technical problems*

McCoy: maybe we shouldn't trust him. he has his own agenda now

Kirk: wtf of course we can trust him he's Spock how dare

[Kirk quickly figures out the changes to the bridge, and from then on, his judgment and decisions are pretty much continually vindicated by the plot. Decker's advice goes from temporarily useful to unprofessional constant jabs with little sense of the real stakes and no better ideas. It becomes extremely apparent that Kirk really is far better equipped in temperament and experience to deal with the potential slaughter of Earth than Decker, especially when assisted by Spock—even this arctic version of Spock.]

Spock: *knocks out a crewman, steals a spacesuit, and tries to make contact with the cosmic acid trip/space vagina by traveling through what he unenthusiastically describes as its "orifices"*

Kirk: I ... guess maybe Bones was - no, it can't be - wait a moment, I -

Spock: *starts transmitting all the data he's gathering to Kirk*

Kirk: hah, I knew he would never betray me! Okay, everyone, you all stay here, I'm going to jump into space to catch him

[Spock melds with the cosmic space vagina and it violently ejects him through various orifices, as he might describe them, until he's thrown right into Kirk's arms, signifying nothing]

Bones and Chapel: melding with the cosmic logic vagina seems to have fried his brain :(

Spock, laughing: I should have known ...

Kirk: *seizes his shoulders* known WHAT Spock what are you talking about. please tell me your mind is intact. sweetheart it's okay what are you full of shame about this time *tries to shake the brain damage loose*

Spock: Jim ... I melded with the supreme logic being and discovered that there's no beauty or art or meaning in raw information or logic ... only a barren STEM hellscape without the humanities

[Spock slides his hand down Kirk's arm until their fingers wrap around each other, and their joined hands tightly cling together. unrelatedly, we have definitely seen Vulcans and Romulans use finger stroking as kissing and/or foreplay]

Spock: it was awful and empty and not at all what I've been searching for this whole time. and finally I understood that the real meaning in life comes from the simple feeling between you and me. The mechanized space vagina couldn't understand our love

[Kirk wraps his other hand tightly around his and Spock's clasped fingers. God knows what degree of obscenity they would be committing on Vulcan, but in any case, McCoy (as ever) politely pretends he's not seeing this happen right in front of him, since Kirk and Spock obviously have forgotten, yet again, that other people exist]

Kirk: 🥹🥰

[They stare tenderly at each other without speaking for a few seconds, but are definitely communicating on some level; after a moment's hesitation, Kirk nods slightly, then Spock nods in response, and it feels like we're missing half the conversation. Then Spock explains V'ger's existential angst in terms that obviously apply equally to his own past self, and by past I mean "for most of this movie until a few minutes ago"]

It turns out that V'ger, in addition to being a cosmic acid trip/space vagina/mass murderer, is also an annoying teenager, maturity-wise. I do appreciate Kirk and Spock having their "this is just adolescent angst and we are too middle-aged for this nonsense" reaction, and noping out to provoke V'ger into some measure of cooperation until they all figure out that it's trying to communicate with NASA.

In the course of all this, there's a point where Decker manages to be mildly helpful via the Ilia probe sort of remembering their old relationship, and he proves his value at last by welcoming the chance to orgasmically fuse with Ilia/V'ger, while Kirk is horrified and baffled at why Decker would find this remotely appealing. (ngl Kirk in this movie feels like the most purely gay-coded iteration of him; from the film itself, I could easily believe he has lost all attraction to women at this point.)

So thankfully, we're finally free of the weird and underwhelming Decker/Ilia duo via multiple cosmic acid orgasms, and the Earth is saved, etc. In aesthetics, it's all powerfully 70s, even in the awesome strange bits before V'ger looked quite so, uh, yonic. Somehow even the new bland sleepwear version of Starfleet uniforms seem very 70s; apparently Spock's kickass robes and the muscle-revealing quasi-polo top that Kirk promptly switches into consumed all available stylishness.]

Scott: everything's fine now, so I guess we can drop you off at Vulcan, Mr. Spock

Spock: my experiences today have, uh, resolved my need to stay on Vulcan, so there's no reason to detour for me. I'll just tag along to Earth for >_> no reason

Kirk: [deeply vindicated for about the twelfth time that day, but this time also managing to exude Spock is getting laid tonight without saying a word about him] Mr. Sulu, ahead, warp one.

[endless-ineffabilities]

Chemical Override (bonus chapter 2) - August!

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: this sweet one is set just before they broke it off (or rather, before the reader stomped all over his heart) in part five!

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

August! (... slipped away into a moment in time)

It's a fine morning, albeit lazy, you and Ewan having done nothing but lay in bed and talk and cuddle.

Granted, you did a lot more than talk over the course of the night. And this continued in the morning, with Ewan gently coaxing you out of sleep in need.

He's been insatiable, not that you can blame him. You two are finally together, after months of dancing around each other, your friends in eager anticipation to see how the 'will-they, won't they' dynamic will culminate.

They'll be pleased to know that it all led up to the best date you've had so far, followed by a night of bodies burning for the other, marking their territory in the throes of pent-up desire.

Ewan was sure he would remain the gentleman, merely driving you back to your hotel and calling it a night.

But you had invited him upstairs for a nightcap. Maybe some tea, as the Brits do. Needless to say, the tea was quickly forgotten, along with any reservations he might have about simply having you.

The haze of it hasn't subsided. Clad in nothing but undergarments, your limbs are tangled with his under the sheets as you watch the newly released New York foods video he did with Tom a while back.

"Baby?" you say, running your fingers through his hair as he has his head propped on your thighs. The screen plays on, showing the lads thoroughly enjoying some New York City hotdogs.

"Hmm?" he responds, his voice hinting at how soothed he feels from your touch.

"You're such a baby."

"What?" He twists his neck to shoot you a look of betrayal. Adorable.

"I bet those chips weren't even that spicy," you say, rolling your eyes. "I would have devoured those jalapeño chips."

"They were spicy!" He leans against his forearm, which he quickly positioned on your thigh without thinking, causing your muscle to spasm from the sudden weight.

"Ahhh, Ewan!" you wriggle your legs. "Get off, get off..."

"Shit!" He bolts upright, immediately kneading the flesh with his palm. "Sorry, baby. Here, where does it hurt?"

You sigh audibly. "Oh, you." You narrow your eyes at him playfully, trying to look all tough, but apparently he takes it as a cue to press his lips to yours.

It's warm, a bit sloppy, your breaths stale from wine drank over the course of the night. And you don't mind at all.

He croons in your ear, "How do I make it up to you?"

"It's fine, I was only kind of messing - "

"Come now, darling, anything."

He gazes at you, awaiting an answer. In the background, you hear his voice saying, The Fuegos... I didn't like them, as the video comes to a close.

I saw your eyeballs sort of pop out your head a little bit, Tom says in response.

This is going to be fun, you think, smiling evilly to yourself.

Rising to your knees on the bed, you loudly declare, "Today, my love, you will conquer your fears and eat my favourite spicy food."

"Nooo!" He shakes his head right away, already plotting how to get out of this predicament. "Baby, please make me do anything else. I can't handle my spice!"

"My mind is made up."

"What if I do that thing that made you scream last night? When I buried my tongue insi - '

"Ewan!" Your face reddens, but you carry on. His face will soon have the same reaction, but for different, more savoury reasons. "I mean, I would like that but - "

"Alright, let's go baby, spread your knees - " he nods, desperate to placate you and your challenge, but also eager to get down to business.

You shuffle away when he tries to pry your legs open. " - I said I made up my mind! We're eating spicy food. We gotta eat anyway, I'm starving."

He groans, collapsing back on the bed. He runs his hand tiredly over his face, mulling it over. As if he actually has a choice. He wants to do this for you, seeing as how excited you're getting.

"Get up, ol' sport," you crawl on top of him, perching above his stomach. "We're gonna go get the goods."

"Hmm," he sighs contentedly, one look at you more than enough to quell his worries. For now.

"Okay, darling," he relents, then his eyes flash in mischief. "But before we get out of bed... how about I do that thing anyway?"

There is not a single chance in the seven hells that you could ever say no to that.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

An interesting spread is laid out on the round dining table in your hotel suite.

Your stomach growls in anticipation, while Ewan is stiff as a board as he sits beside you.

"I'm hungry, aren't you?" you nudge him, but he only moans, throwing his head back in his chair.

"What if I'd already eaten? I can skip this?" he tries.

"And what the hell did you eat?"

He smirks, and even though his answer won't save him from what follows, it renders him gleeful all the same. "You," is his reply.

That prompts an eye roll, but you shake your head at him fondly. "What should we start with, baby?"

"Water."

"Come on."

"How about the strawberry milk?"

"Okay, then I'll pick." You clasp your hands, surveying the options. "Let's start with something easy." You settle for the bowl of Flamin Hot Cheetos and place it right in front of him.

You help yourself to a few pieces, before noticing that he hasn't moved a muscle, so you take one and bring it to his lips. "Open up, handsome."

"Mmmm," he tilts his head away on instinct, but he gives in after a second. He makes a face as the snack crunches in his mouth. "Not... bad, I suppose.... Urghhh - " he coughs a little, making you snicker at him between bites.

"That's not spicy at all," you say. "At least, it's nothing compared to what we'll have next."

The chicken wings are an unnatural bright red colour, covered in hot sauce and dotted with flecks of chili. You lean down and take a whiff, your nose scrunching as the strong hint of spice hits your senses.

Your placating smile does nothing to ease Ewan, who only looks like he is regretting his life choices on the spot.

"O-kay, dragonblood. Time to breathe fire," you remark in an attempt to inspire some confidence in him. Didn't he take pride in playing a Targaryen dragonrider? Surely some part of him would want to overcome the big, bad opponent that is known in our world as spicy wings.

"Breathe fire?" he exclaims. "That does not make me feel any better!"

"Do it for Vhagar, my love. Do it for Vhagar."

"I'm doing this for you," he corrects, before gingerly taking the smallest bite of a wing. He waits for the impact, confused when nothing unpleasant occurs.

So he bravely takes another, heartier bite.

Big mistake.

His hand gravitates to the glass of water, and he chugs it down like a lifeline. His once pale face becomes the same hue as the fiery culprit.

"Fffuck, ba...by," he hiccups. "I didn't like that at all."

You have a bite, wincing just a little when it hits your throat. It wasn't too bad, so you tell him to calm down.

He complains anyway, "I think I just saw my life flash right before my eyes."

You chortle at that, which unfortunately makes some of the spice travel up your nose. "Oh god!" You instantly take a huge gulp of milk. "Don't make me laugh!" you say, when the heat dies down.

"See?" he cries out in vindication. "Why must we torture ourselves, darling?"

"The food's tasty," you counter.

"Yeah, but is it worth the price?"

You grip his shoulder, dramatically saying, "We have to keep going, soldier."

"No."

"Yes."

"You won't break up with me if I refuse, will you?"

You pause, making it seem like you are seriously deliberating it. "Maybe."

"What?!" His expression takes on a more real sense of alarm.

"I'm kidding," you giggle, nudging his leg with yours. He leans his head against your shoulder, responding with, "You're mean."

"And you're dating me. What does that say about you?"

He lets out a weary laugh, "That I'm just really in love, I guess."

That almost makes you give up on the challenge entirely. You could just let him eat the pepperoni pizza you have saved as the actual meal. But it wouldn't hurt too much to tackle the grand finale. The final boss. Maybe it will even get his taste buds to crack and cross over to the dark side.

"Baby?" Here goes everything.

"Hmm?"

"It's time for the spicy ramen."

He sighs a true sigh of defeat and acceptance. "If I survive this, you have to swear you're never letting me go."

"That's your bargain? Easy, baby."

His blue eyes bore into yours. His cheeks are still red and he's still sniffling from the spice, but his sentiment holds weight. He shrugs, before his arm reaches out for the bowl of ramen, making it known that he has already accepted his fate.

You slide the glass of milk closer to him.

"Try not to get it on your lips as much as possible," you advise him, growing worried as the ramen pack did warn that it was '2x Spicy'.

You cringe inwardly as a forkful of noodles enters his mouth. He drops his arm, chewing slowly, and finally the food gratefully slides down his throat.

"Mmm," he clears his throat, trying his hardest to remain calm. His forced, blank expression is even more alarming than the alternative.

"Ewan?" He turns his head toward you, slowly. And you see the full extent of the damage. His eyes well with tears, and his breathing is shallow from an even more congested nose.

"I'm okay," he wheezes, trying to maintain a show of boldness for your sake. "I can do this."

"You don't look okay." You shake your head at him, as his face takes on an even deeper shade of red.

A pained grunt escapes him. "Maybe a kiss will make it better."

A cursory glace at the ramen sauce staining his lips compels you to protest without a second thought. "How about no? You've got it all over your lips."

"Darling, who cares? You're going to eat them too!" he says, scandalised.

"But I've got a technique. I don't let it touch my lips so it doesn't burn!" You inch away as he leans in.

"So you won't kiss me?" He uses his baby blues against you, eyes bright and shimmering as he pouts in disappointment.

"You don't need a kiss." He tries to grab you, making you stand from your chair to get away. With your palm outstretched, you implore him, "Baby, just drink your milk."

"Then I get a kiss?"

"Fine. Then you get a kiss."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Tom calls you a few days later, his tone animated from the moment you pick up. "Would you look at that! I didn't think I would get a hold of you lovers. Thought you'd be busy doing somethin' else, if y'know what I mean."

"It's noon here, Tom," you reply matter-of-factly, stretching your legs out on the bed.

"So? I reckon Captain Big Balls over there has got it in him."

"Wow," you let out an amused exhale. Tom always did have a way about him, being a Manc and all. "Well, he's in the shower right now if you wanted to speak to him."

"I'm surprised you're not in there with him, love! You guys are all over the news, bloody hell. Even out here, everyone's buzzin' about the hot new couple from House of the Dragon. And no, it's not Matt and Fabien."

You smirk at his last remark, "Are you sure it's not Matt and Fabs?"

"Positive," he says. "But we never know what could happen. Anyway, how in the hell did you convince him?"

You rack your brain for what exactly he could be pertaining to. "Convince him to do what?"

"To create a bloody Instagram profile, that's what!"

Your mouth falls open, and you quickly put him on speaker so you can scroll to the aforementioned app. Sure enough, it doesn't take long for you to sift through your new follower notifications before you find him.

His username is on brand - straightforward and no-frills - just ewanmitchell . Already verified with a hundred thousand followers and counting. In his following list, however, there is only one - your profile.

If the papparazzi pictures and tabloid stories and fan encounters hadn't convinced everyone yet, likely this will.

Ewan, notorious not only for his charisma and pure talent, but also for being steadfast in staying off social media, has sent the entirety of Ewan Nation into a tailspin with his profile.

Icing on the cake - he only follows you.

"You see, this is what convinces the public that you two are not PR," Tom says. "Because Ewan would never, ever get on the socials for just anyone."

"I didn't even know he made this. I haven't been online in quite a bit."

"Been busy, huh?" he asks.

"Yeah."

"Doin' a lot of stuff out there?"

"I guess."

"Like Ewan?"

"Tom, I'm going to lynch you when I see you."

He only laughs, having gotten his desired outcome from prodding at you.

The bathroom door slides open, and Ewan steps out with nothing but a towel haphazardly wrapped around his waist.

"Who's that?" he mouths at you.

"Tom," you answer loudly, prompting Tom to greet Ewan from the speakerphone.

"Aemond the Fierce!" he bellows, the long-distance call doing nothing to stifle his personality. "I always knew you had it in ya. Ever since you laid eyes on her during the table read, I knew it was only a matter of time."

Well, isn't that a revelation. You had thought it was just you harbouring a crush in the beginning. "The table read, really? I just remember being so nervous," you say.

"I thought you were attractive," Ewan admits, scratching the back of his neck. "And you were reading your lines with such passion that I... "

Tom interrupts, "He ran over to me and told me to show him your social media."

"Not just that, I - "

"He wanted to see whether you had any pictures with a boyfriend or something."

"Alright, alright." Ewan snatches the phone from your hand, as if that will keep Tom from exposing him even more. "How are you, mate?"

"I'm good, lad, and yourself?"

Ewan glances at you, seeing that you've gone back to reading a script, your brow furrowed in concentration.

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

"I'm great. I'm happy."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

"Over here! Over here!"

"How's your evening going, you guys? How are you enjoying LA?"

The papparazzi needlessly try to make small talk and they flash their cameras in your face. You and Ewan barely have time to grimace at each other once you get inside his car. The restaurant where he took you to dinner hadn't been crawling with paps when you arrived. Someone must have tipped them at some point.

Ewan instinctively reaches for your hand when you've driven some distance away from the restaurant, a breath of relief exiting his lungs.

"That's Hollywood for you, baby," he says amusedly, putting on his best standard American accent.

The car speeds through the streets of LA. Heading to Mount Hollywood, you have the famous Griffith Observatory set as your destination.

You have always wanted to go, and it only took one mention to Ewan before he planned it for your next date.

It doesn't take long before the observatory's iconic structure comes into view. Its white domes seemingly gleam under the night sky, a sentinel watching over the city of Los Angeles.

Stepping out of the car, you take in the scene in awe. The resulting look on your face lets Ewan know he made the right choice in taking you here. He'd take you here everyday if it meant seeing you in a spell of childlike wonder.

The observatory itself is just a bonus.

The outer balcony stretches like a vertice into the vastness of the city, a sea of lights glistening down below. It seemed to sprawl on endlessly, a labyrinth of hopes and pains and dreams.

You stand there, drawn to the view like a moth to a flame. The evening breeze dances through your hair, and your face is aglow from the illuminated city.

Smiling widely, you turn and find Ewan lingering just behind, watching you.

"Come and look at this, my love," you wave him over.

He wants to capture the moment, so he does. He subtly points his camera in your direction. Your profile is partially visible, with your face turned out into the horizon. Your silhouette stands before a mosaic of the shining city.

But it's you that has his attention. You that pulls all of his focus into the frame.

He never thought he would have much use for a public social media profile like the one he created on Instagram, but hours later, as you're sound asleep beside him, he finds purpose for such a thing.

He uploads the first ever photo on his profile - the one he secretly took of you at the observatory.

Too conscious to think of a caption, he doesn't type in any, content to let the photo speak for itself.

Putting his phone away, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead and falls into blissful slumber.

Ewan hadn't been aware of the phrase breaking the internet, and he's in for quite the rude awakening.

Even so, he doesn't let it faze him.

You're in shock when you discover the amount of comments under the photo, well past the twelve thousand mark when you wake up. Positive, negative, and everything in between.

Almost unheard of for an Instagram debut.

His reaction?

"At least everyone knows that you're mine now. What's wrong with that?"

You can vote here on the reader's hotd character name!

Taglist: @sprinklesprinkle888 @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @hotdismylife @vyctorya @wildrangers @livcookesgf @dracaryxzs @aemondwhoresworld @aisselasstuff @onlyrealjoy (continued in comments)

The sad, angsty bits will be saved for the next proper chapter! What happens to Ewan's Instagram then? What happens to him?? 🥲💔

I was going to include the double date idea, but alas, my ideas ran dry.

I've got nothing but love for all of you that have followed this story to this point! If you've got scene requests, just let me know!

[fastandcarlos]

Nothing Lasts Forever : ̗̀➛ George Russell

summary: left abandoned once again, you find yourself wondering whether your relationship with george really can last forever

Your eyes widened in disbelief as you walked back into your apartment to see George sat absentmindedly on the sofa, scrolling through his phone. He didn’t even look as you walked through the door, only when you cleared your throat did he acknowledge that you were there. His eyes studied you closely, admiring the dress that you wore, before reality smacked him in the face.

You were all prepared for date night with George, heading down to the restaurant early to make sure that you got a table by the window overlooking the beach, where George always loved to sit. That table was where you sat for almost an hour, hoping that George was only running late, but he never did show up.

It wasn’t the first time recently when George had forgotten you, your plans together seemed to be bottom of his list of priorities. George’s eyes were wide as he realised why you were dressed so nicely, silently cursing himself for messing up yet again and forgetting about you.

Your movements around the apartment were silent, almost pretending as if George wasn’t there. You took off your heels, hung up your bag and got yourself a glass of water, heading straight for your bedroom. George faintly called out your name, but as he expected, he was completely ignored by you.

You didn’t have anything to say to him, yet again you’d been left to look like a fool whilst George basked in his job. George wasn’t prepared to just let you walk away though, standing up from the sofa and following you into the bedroom. Although as he did, he almost wished that he didn’t.

“Babe, I know sorry isn’t good enough right now, but I’m so sorry that I forgot,” he hurriedly told you, but his apologies were far from good enough for you.

“Can you just leave me alone?” You asked, keeping yourself surprisingly calm.

“Just talk to me, please,” George whispered in reply.

“I don’t want to.”

George knew he was going to be far from in your good books, but the harsh tone in which you spoke to him took him by surprise.

You’d had your moments, but this was the first time you’d really vented your frustrations to George. You’d had enough of being second best, of being forgotten and embarrassed by him. You knew where you stood with George, and you weren’t going to let yourself stay there any longer.

You tried to ignore his presence as you moved around the bedroom, knowing exactly what your next step was.

George’s heart stung as he watched you open up your wardrobe, pulling a small suitcase out in amongst the mess that you had in there, picking it up and throwing it onto your bed to unzip it. He didn’t need to be told what happened next, struggling to keep himself composed as he watched you start to grab a few bits.

You didn’t care though, you wanted George to feel the hurt that you did.

“Love, what are you doing?” George nervously asked, hoping that what he saw before him was a completely different plot to the one he feared. “You don’t need to do this, let’s just talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to say,” you argued, “I’m fed up of feeling like I mean nothing to you.”

George desperately wanted to reach out and stop you doing what you were doing, but you were avoiding him at every turn, refusing to give him the chance.

As you grabbed a pair of shoes, you spoke again. “I can’t keep being treated like this George, I need some time to decide if I can do this anymore.”

“Do what? You mean us? Being together?” He quizzed, all of his thoughts tumbling out of his mouth as George began to lose control.

“Yes,” you bluntly replied with a sigh, “this isn’t the sort of relationship I deserve to be in right now George.”

The look on George’s face dropped.

“Where are you going to go? You can’t just leave.”

“I can’t be here with you right now,” you sighed, throwing the last of your essential bits into your suitcase. You quickly zipped it up and picked up your phone. George tried to reach out for the case to stop you, but you were too quick, swiping it away and heading for the door. You blocked out the many calls of your name as you slipped on the same pair of shoes you had taken off only minutes earlier.

George rushed over to the door, trying his best to pin it shut as you approached, but your head shook, silently asking him to just let it go. He reluctantly stepped aside, but not before taking a hold of your hand, struggling to keep his emotions in check.

“I-I love you,” George whispered, squeezing tightly onto your hand. "Please don’t do this,” he pleaded, sniffing back the tears that threatened to fall. “I’m sorry I ever made you feel this way, but I don’t know what I’ll do without you here.”

“It’s for the best that I do this George.”

His head shook as you slipped your hand out of his hold, smiling weakly across at him.

“Who is this best for? It’s not for me.”

“I’m not here to just be forgotten George.”

You quickly closed the door behind you before allowing your first tear to fall.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

A heavy sigh came from you as you woke up the following morning, looking around the apartment of your best friend. You’d barely slept as you wondered whether leaving your home was the right call, or if you’d moved to hasty.

George meant everything to you, you were two of the most popular people around the paddock, but you were starting to feel more and more distant from him. It wasn’t the first time George had forgotten about you or made you feel like you didn’t matter to him, but you couldn’t stand back and let yourself be treated like a toy anymore. George either wanted you, and to spend time with you, or he didn’t.

It didn’t take long before your phone buzzed beside you again. Most of the night you’d been met with texts or calls from George, wishing you to come home. You’d tried your best to ignore them, but if George was one thing, he was definitely persistent.

After letting his call almost ring through once again, you decided to grab your phone, pressing the green button in the centre of your screen. “George,” you whispered, hearing a sharp intake of breath come from the other end of the line.

“Babe,” George sighed, throwing his head back in relief as he sat on your shared bed at home. You waited and waited for George to speak, but you were met with silence, unaware of George trying to find the right words to say.

“What is it George?”

“I just wanted to know when you’re coming back,” he finally spoke, “home.”

“It’s not as easy as just coming back George,” you huffed, brushing your hand over the top of your head. “We can’t just carry on like nothing.”

“You mean you’re not coming back?” George quizzed, his voice faltering as he spoke, “you’re not coming back…ever?”

“I don’t mean ever, I just need some space,” you tried your best to calmly assure him, “I need to think about whether this is really what I want or not.”

“Y-you’re not breaking up with me, are you?” George frantically asked, feeling tears threaten to spill once again.

“No, I’m not breaking up with you George, I just think we both need a bit of time to think about what our priorities are and figure out whether a relationship is for the best.”

“I already know it’s for the best, I’d be lost without you,” George quickly spoke.

“I don’t know if it’s the best for me,” you honestly admitted.

“Well, if time is what you need, I guess I’m going to have to give it to you, to fight for us.”

“Thank you, George.”

“I love you,” he whispered, knowing that he was moments away from losing all contact from you for however long you needed.

“I love you too.”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Around the paddock people barely recognised George for the next couple of weeks. He barely spoke to anyone except for when someone mentioned your name, hoping that someone had heard from you. But no one ever had though. He was left wondering constantly, anxiously awaiting a call or text from you.

Beside him, Lewis watched George closely, as he had done throughout. He could see better than anyone how hard George was being on himself.

“What do I do if I never hear from her again?” George asked him nervously.

Lewis’ head shook as he rested his hand against George’s shoulder. “You can’t think like that. She wanted you to show her that you prioritise her, so that’s what you’ve got to try and do, right?”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Despite your frustrations with George, you couldn’t help but keep up with everything going on. You still watched all the races, tried your best to watch their interviews, despite what had happened, many of the drivers you watched were still your friends.

As you caught up with what happened during the race in Austria, you couldn’t help but glance up at the screen as you heard the presenters mention that they were cutting to the media pen with George ready to interview.

Your heart stopped as he appeared on the screen, he was far from the usual George that you saw. His hair was messy, his smile was nowhere in sight, for the first time ever he looked as if he didn’t want to be there, the man who adored racing almost appeared as if he’d fallen out of love with it.

You couldn’t quite believe the version of George that you saw in front of you, it was unlike anything you ever saw before. Even when the interviewer tried to offer him a smile, George was unresponsive, like it didn’t even matter.

“George, P5 today in tricky conditions, you don’t look particularly pleased with the points, were you expecting something more from the race today?” She smiled, extending the microphone out to him.

“I’m happy with the race, it was the best that I could do,” George shrugged, “but racing isn’t the most important thing in the world, is it? I love my job, but there’s things that I love more which aren’t going well right now, that’s probably why I don’t look thrilled. There’s a few things that I need to fix, I’ve been reminded too much recently that as great as this is, it’s not the most important thing in the world to worry about."

You sunk down in your seat as George spoke, brushing your hands over your face as his words sunk in. You’d never heard him speak like that before, but now that he did, you realised just how important you truly were.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Your knocks were impatient as you stood outside of the apartment door, knowing that George had returned home only a few moments earlier. Your heart was racing, even if everything was familiar, you were still stood in front of your home, even if it didn’t quite feel like it.

Your body tensed up as the front door opened, a dishevelled looking George staring back at you. He blinked several times, almost as if he needed to convince himself that it was really you in front of him.

“Hi,” he fumbled, “I wasn’t expecting to see you here, everything alright?”

“Can we talk?” You anxiously asked, nervously playing with your fingers, unable to bring yourself to meet George’s eyes.

“I…of course,” he smiled, inviting you in. “I was hoping I’d get the chance to speak to you, to tell you just how much you mean to me and how sorry I am for every making you feel as if I don’t care about you, or that you’re not the most important thing in my life.”

“I know you feel that way now.”

“Seriously?”

You nodded as you took a step closer to George, allowing your hand to slowly take a hold of one of his.

“Maybe I overreacted a little, I shouldn’t have just walked away.”

George’s head shook, he knew now that walking away was what you needed.

But he secretly always hoped that you’d go back to him, and he was beyond thrilled to finally have you home again.

George’s arms snaked around your waist, pulling you as tight into him as he possibly could. His head buried into the crook of your neck, refamiliarizing himself with the comfort of you again.

He refused to let you go, holding you tighter than he ever had done before.

“Will you come back home?” George whispered into your ear, “I don’t think I can spend another night here without you.”

“Of course, I will.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[yuansie]

ocean memories : children of the sea,

synopsis. you never listen to your parents. what makes them think you'll listen to them now?

pairing. rafayel x fem! non mc! reader

warnings. reader is a preteen or a tween in this HAHFAHEFA so is rafayel, ooc preteen raf oopsie daisy (it's for the plot, unfortunately), formal speaking (it's set in the olden times...), reader's hair and eye color change to specific colors (it's for the plot... IT'S FOR THE PLOTTT PLS DONT HATE ME 😭🙏🏼) but skin color is not specified (obvi), raf is kind of serious... just a little bit (i think), slight spoilers to his forgotten sea myth (kind of?), reader is also supposed to be the smartest kid in her village . if there's anything i should add, please let me know!

genres. fluff

rating. sfw

w/c. 2.7k hahaha... 😟

a/n. HELLOOOOOO this was so long bye i didn't mean to make this chapter long but it happened so good bc sometimes i struggle even writing a sentence down BYEEE anyways ! for this section of the series, dialogue will be very formal because i do NAWT want to write in shakespearean ! bro's plays are good to read but writing it? NO ! reading raf's forgotten sea myth with all the "thy/thou" words had me internally crying.

YOUR PARENTS LIKE TO SAY THAT YOUR CURIOSITY WILL GET YOU IN TROUBLE, and while you don’t agree with them, you think their words might prove you wrong tonight.

the adults have always said never to head to the current by the coral reefs, said that it's too dangerous. you asked your parents once about why it was so.

they never answered you.

and then you asked the head of the village once—he said that you were too young to know.

to know what? that it's just a current? what is a current going to do to your strong tail? what will it do to a lemurian?

these vague answers have done nothing but pique your curious mind and your adventuring-craving bones. and so you find yourself laying wide awake at night, waiting and waiting until you know your parents have gone to sleep and are well into their dreams.

it's easy to slip out afterwards, easy to swim past the sea lamp outside the front door and the other homes. it's easy to swim past the village head’s place and head to the coral reefs behind it. the current comes into view quickly, easy to distinguish by the light blue waves that rush down and disappears beyond the wall of coral reef.

your parents words echo in your ear: stay away from the currents.

but they’re pushed away, a soft voice calling out to you. come closer. the voice sounds pleasant, not too deep nor too high pitched. it calls out to you again, come to me, find me, their words lulling you closer to the currents. and you move closer, abiding to the voice’s request. then you blink, finding yourself in the current. laughter erupts from your throat and spills from your lips, “and they said it was danger—” you squeal, waving your arms wildly when the current abruptly pulls you down, taking you away. you wait for the coral reef to scratch your skin and tail, but there was never any pain. it was almost as if the current protected you from it as it dragged you away, tugging down you to the entrance of what looks like a cave.

you’re dropped softly on sand, your mind absolutely blank from what just happened. the eerie silence gnaws dread into your bones, your heart beginning to pick its pace up. you’re all alone in some cave who-knows-how-far-away from the village. you push yourself off the sand, your tail hitting the ground and sending sand upwards. just as you’re about to explore the area to find a way back, you stop and tilt your head to the side, watching how the image of the cave shimmers and vibrates, its appearance morphing into what you think is a temple.

columns of pristine marble that look whiter than the pearls you sometimes see in the market, renders you speechless. you swim closer as if you’re in another trance, slowing to a stop right at the entrance. there is no door to keep you out, only a pitch darkness separating you from the inside. you stretch your hand out, fingers embraced by the darkness inside for a few seconds. the darkness doesn’t startle you, you feel no fear as you look into it but rather a strange calmness. the darkness erupts into a blinding light, making you shield your eyes until they adjust to the sudden brightness. the light now illuminates the temple and you move inside. your breath stops at your throat, wide eyes taking in every detail of the beautiful temple. you swim and reach an alter, blinking in confusion at the body of a boy around your age lying there.

the boy lies flat on his back, dark lashes and purple hair contrasting against his pale skin. his skin is so pale you think he’s sick, so you press a hand to his forehead and then your own against the back of your hand, closing your eyes. his skin is cold, though it soon warms up much to your surprise. you feel soft puffs of air against your skin; your eyes flutter open to find a pair of bicolored eyes, with beautiful hues of ocean blue and sunset red, staring back at you. there’s a faint glow of red by his shoulder blade, but you don't say anything and neither does he, choosing to just stare at one another.

“i am so sorry,” you say, leaning back to give him space. “i was just checking if you were sick since you looked so pale…”

“i am not sick,” he says, eyes trained on you. the intensity of his stare makes your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, but you decide to hold his stare. “i was merely sleeping.”

“sleeping?” the embarrassment you feel is washed away and replaced by curiosity. “all the way out here and not in whalefall village?"

he ignores your question and closes his eyes, “i have been waiting to get awakened,” he opens one of them to look at you, “you should have woken me up when i grew into an adult.”

“…what?” your curiosity is now skepticism because you have no idea what this boy is trying to say. “are you okay?” you look at him with narrowed eyes, studying his features. “you are not from the village. i would have recognized you.”

he ignores your question and rambles instead, “of course i am fine,” he says, “like i said, i was just sleeping, waiting to be awakened; now that i am awake…” the corners of his lips slowly lift and he points at you, “i have a question for you.”

“for me?” you point at yourself.

the boy nods. “i don't see anyone else here, now do i?”

you huff through your nose. “alright… but first, you must answer my question!”

he quirks an eyebrow up. “...okay. what is your question?”

“what is your name?”

the boy blinks at you. “i am the god of tides.”

your jaw drops, “what?” clearing your throat, you hit his arm to which he yelps in surprise. “don’t speak lies!”

he rubs the sore spot on his arm, his lips forming a pout. “i am not lying! i am the god of tides!”

“the village head told me that the god of tides has not been seen in over hundreds of years!”

“that’s because i was sleeping in my temple!” he huffs and throws his arms up. “i was waiting for my priestess to wake me up!”

“priestess?”

“yes!” the boy gets up from the alter and swims to you. “the deep sea told me it would send a girl who loves the sea more than anything, with hair the color of sea foam and eyes like sea… and here you are!”

“woah there,” you chuckle, lifting your hands to push the boy away from you. “i do not have sea foam-colored hair nor eyes like the sea.”

the boy points at your hair. “yes you do.”

you grab a strand of your hair in your hair and look down, choking in surprise at the color of your hair: blue sea foam that appears when waves crash on the surface. turning towards the boy, you grab his shoulders and shake him. “my eyes! what color are they?”

he rolls his eyes, “i told you that they are blue like the sea. why have you already forgotten?”

“no!” you whine, “my parents will kill me! that is not the color of my eyes nor is my hair this color! what did you do to me?”

the boy shrugs. “the deep sea must have blessed you when it chose you to find me.”

breathing in deeply, you exhale slowly, your hands still on his shoulders. “you say you are the god of tides, yes?” he nods, and you continue, “the village head once told me that only the god of tides could wield fire… can you?”

he pushes you away enough to create some distance between you two. your arms fall to your side as you wait with bated breath, and the boy holds a hand out, a fire burning brightly in his palm. he glances at you through his eyelashes, his lips forming a bright smile at the sight of you watching the flame in his palm with awe. the flame flickering in your blue eyes, he thinks, is pretty.

very pretty.

“oh,” you gasp, snapping him from his thoughts. “i was rude to you. i am so sorry.”

he waves it off. “i will forgive you because you are my one and only priestess.”

a priestess to the god your people have longed for.

you beam at him, “thank you—ah.”

“what?”

“your name,” you say, “you never told me.”

you watch the boy scratch the back of his neck as he thinks before finally replying, “i don’t have one.”

“what?” you gape at him like a fish does when it’s out of the water. “you have no name?”

“no.”

you close your eyes and tap on your upper lip with a finger, thinking long and hard. there is a text book you read not long ago, a text book the village head had lent you after you asked about the god of the sea. while reading it, there was a name that had appeared in the text that you liked.

“rafayel.”

blue and red eyes stare at you with curiosity. “rafayel?” he echoes.

“yes,” you grabs his hands and smile at him. “i read it in a book the village head gave to me. it means god has healed, and our god has finally healed and is back.”

rafayel mirrors the smile on your lips, gripping tightly onto your hands. “rafayel,” he says, “i like that name.”

it hasn’t been long since you woke rafayel and took him back to the village, and while the village head wanted to stick to his side like glue and aid him in whatever he could, rafayel had shooed him away, claiming that he only needed his priestess—you.

“you cannot be serious right now,” rafayel deadpans, watching you with narrowed as you swim about in the temple, the trinkets you had found on the surface clinking in your arms, “why would you go to the surface? again?”

“because it is fun and,” you raise your arms slightly, “i can find these odd things. they are fascinating, raf!”

rafayel furrows his eyebrows. “fascinating?” he repeats, glancing at the things in your arms before looking back at you, grimacing, “they do not look like that to me.”

“well, they just are!” you let the items go, letting them drift as you swim to your friend. “why don’t you go with me?”

“go with you?” he hums in thought. “no. the people will not let me leave the temple.”

you grab his hand tightly. “but i will be with you, rafayel. nothing bad will happen.”

you can see the gears in his head turn before slowly nodding. the corner of his lips twitch as you brighten, beginning to ramble about what you will show him first. he won’t admit it aloud—no, he can’t because he must remain a noble figure in your eyes—that he is excited to see with his own eyes the wonders you hold dear to your adventurous heart.

it’s almost comical how you wait until nightfall to sneak out of your home and head to the temple to meet rafayel. you have to continuously pinch your hand to refrain from laughing at how easy it is to slip out of your room and past the homes.

your parents will never learn, you think as the temple comes into view.

“rafayel?” you stick your head inside only to yelp in surprise at how quickly rafayel appears in front of you.

he gives you a lopsided grin, calming your racing heart instantly. “did i scare you, my priestess?”

“what do you think?” you grumble, slapping his arm. he whines, rubbing the sore spot on his arm as he sticks his tongue out at you. his foul mood is washed away when you grab his hands and press a finger to your lips, winking at him as you lead him to the surface.

out the temple, take the current to the coral reefs, swim to the canyons and cliffs, go up.

moonlight reflects on the surface of the water when you two emerge from it.

rafayel turns his head to face you, grimacing. “you sneak out for… this?”

the island not too far in front seems bare, lacking the human trinkets you like so much. there is only but the beach and the forestry, nothing else.

“that is because we are not on the beach,” you say, dragging him closer to the sand. he lets you drag him. “and there was a storm last night. there will be treasure to find once we are at the beach.”

when his tail brushes against sand, you release his hand and push yourself out of the water, your tail which once shone with beautiful, iridescent scales, turns into human legs. twirling around on legs foreign to him, smiling so brightly he thinks he might be staring at the sun, you hold out your hand. “what are you waiting for, rafa?”

he grumbles, pushing himself up from the water. his tail morphs into human legs as well, and he takes a wobbly step towards you, almost falling. you laugh as you catch him, your skin warm against his. “this is not fun,” his cheeks feel like they’re burning, a feeling he has never felt before—perhaps it is embarrassment.

he looks at you, a frown etched on his lips. “lemurians are meant to swim, not walk.”

you giggle, continuing to support rafayel as you walk to the other end of the beach. “we lemurians can do anything, rafie.” you point at something, and rafayel looks in front of him to find something glimmering as the moonlight shines on it. “see that?” you whisper, “that is the treasure i was talking about.”

you bring him over to the object that shines, which happens to be a circular metal with a button on top, a thin chain hanging on its back. you grab it excitedly, like a child given a candy, and show it to him.

“what am i looking at?” he asks.

“a pocket watch!” you press the button on top and the circular contraption opens, revealing a ticking watch at the bottom and a small mirror at the top. “oh, this one is different.”

“how so?”

“the other ones i have found usually have a map here,” you tap the mirror. it reflects his eye and tufts of his hair on the left while the right shows your eye and sea-foam colored hair—he remembers you saying that you’re still not used to the new colors of your hair and eyes, admitting that you miss the original colors. you catch his stare through the mirror and wink at him, continuing, “but there is a mirror here.”

he averts his gaze. “i must admit… it looks interesting.”

“i told it was interesting and you did not believe me!” your smile, so infectious, brings one to his lips.

you go on a scavenging journey while he opts to sit on the sand near the water, watching as you run back and forth on the beach, sometimes stumbling and falling. when he attempts to get up to check on you, he always falters when he hears your laughter echo into the sky soon afterwards. eventually, you tire from your search and plop down next to him, dropping your new trinkets next to you. your legs turn into your tail, and you rest your head on rafayel’s shoulder.

his legs turn into his tail, and he gently hits the ground just as a wave nears both your tails, splashing water onto the two of you.

“you have pretty scales,” you say, your tone soft. “they remind me of your eyes and your eyes remind me of the how sunset looks when it is reflected on the ocean’s water.”

“you have pretty scales, too. prettier than mine.”

“really?” you ask, shoulders slightly shaking with the giggles that spill from your lips.

“yes.”

when he’s back in his temple, watching you swim back to your home, he thinks that maybe the surface isn’t all that bad.

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taglist (open). @bakutual @nadinefromwhere @justmystical @holywaterbucketchallenge

OCEAN MEMORIES, yuansie 2025

[catherinnn]

Messing With You

Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: after teasing matt all night, he finally snaps when you get home.

warnings: smut (+18), porn with no plot, dom!matt and sub!reader, piv, unprotected sex (don't do this, this is fiction), oral (m), choking, spanking.

words: 1.7 k

You finally get to his apartment. After a night at the bar with Karen and Foggy, where you kept teasing each other.

His hand on your thigh under the table and you squeezed your legs to trap it in between. Whispering in his ear how good he looks. Leaving random pecks on his jaw or cheek every now and then. Your hand in his torso trying to feel his abs. All of this while acting nonchalant in front of the rest, as if it was nothing. But you knew it was torturing him (and yourself a bit.)

He grabs your arm before you can move any further into the apartment and traps you with his hands on your waist, not letting go.

"Where do you think you're going now?" he asks in a low, deep voice.

"To change?" you act innocent.

"I don't think so. You were so bad at the bar, anything to say for yourself?"

"I wasn't" you pretend.

"No? Then why did you keep teasing me? Driving me mad?"

"I don't know what you mean" you lie, but the smirk on your lips tells you off.

"Go to the bed, get undressed" he indicates.

"Fine" you shrug, acting annoyed, challenging him.

But as you get to the bedroom you quickly take everything off until you're left on your underwear. You also chose a lacy black pair beforehand, already planning on this.

As Matt gets to the bedroom his jacket, tie and shoes are forgotten, leaving him only in a half-unbuttoned shirt and his pants. Showing a peak of his chest which is enough to get you more wet.

He walks over to you and as soon as his hands touch you he notices the set. He feels you up to really capture it and then he growls.

"You're such a fucking tease" he whispers. "So bad. Were you planning on being so bad tonight?"

"Matt-"

"Get on your knees" he interrupts before you can even answer. Either way, you do as he said. "Are you gonna be a good girl now?"

"Maybe" you answer.

"You're still feeling funny?" he asks, getting impatient. "Take my pants off" He orders, and as you do so, he unbuttons the rest of his shirt and takes it off as well.

Once his boxers are off too, he grabs your hair up. "You know what to do now" he simply says.

And you do. You grab his already hard cock and pump it a few times, leaving kisses on it too, and kitten licks on the tip.

He tugs on your hair and tells you in between his teeth. "No more teasing"

You chuckle and then finally put it in your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks so he can feel you all around.

Going slowly up and down, taking your time. But Matt didn't want that. He pushes your head forward, forcing you to take more of him.

"Deeper" he grunts.

And you do as he says. Taking as much as you can, almost all of it, before you choke and get it off completely so you can breathe.

"Oh, come on. I know you can do better" he laughs.

And you go at it again, trying to take it as deep as you can, breathing through your nose. But he still pushes you forward until you're taking all of it and feel his bush against you.

Your nails mark the skin of his thick thighs. Your brows almost meet in a worried expression. But as you look up at him, you see his head thrown back and his mouth opened, breathing heavily. The muscles of his neck and chest contracted. His hand gripping your hair even tighter. And you suddenly forget about the coughing sensation on your throat and the pain. Only feeling the way your panties get even more soaked.

He lets you breathe after a few seconds. Taking your mouth off completely and letting go of your hair.

"That’s what I like to see, good girl." he praises with an unintended pun. "Get on the bed"

He puts you on all fours on the bed, feeling the lacy panties and the soft skin of your cheeks. He bites his lip, spanking you with his right hand to then caress the skin again.

"You like that?" he brings your ass closer to him. Another spank on the same spot and then caressing it again. He can feel the irritation of the skin, meaning it's leaving a red mark. He leaves one more spank to make sure it's really noticeable.

"Good girl, taking what i give you" he whispers and gets lower. He inhales deeper to get all of your scent. His thumb feels all of your pussy through the soaked lace, making you move forward involuntarily.

"Shh, stay still" he says and then takes the panties off. "You're so wet. It's obvious how much you enjoy teasing me, making me desperate for you. But I think you have it all wrong sweetheart, I'm the one calling the shots here. Making you desperate and needy."

You bite back a moan, not giving him the satisfaction of knowing how much you enjoy this, even though it's so obvious.

"Is that clear or do I need to make it clearer?" he asks firmly.

"It's clear, Matty" you respond.

"Say you're sorry then" he says in the same dominant tone.

"Sorry"

"What's that? Louder"

"I'm sorry!" you moan.

"Good, that's better" he leaves kisses all around your cunt.

"Please, Matty" you beg.

"One more time?" he smirks.

"Please?" you say louder, as if he couldn't almost hear your thoughts.

"I don't know if you deserve it" he says, almost touching your pussy. "This is supposed to be a punishment"

"I got it, Matt, I'm sorry. Now, please?" you beg.

"You still think you have a say in this?" he chuckles. He grabs both of your wrists in one hand behind your back. "You do as I say. And I say: you don't deserve it"

"Y- yes, sir" you struggle to respond.

He grabs his cock and pushes his red tip all over your puffy and wet lips. He groans and you whine in unison, making it obvious how much you need this now.

He finally pushes it in, slowly until he's all in. His head thrown back again, he'll never get used to how tight you are.

"Shit" he moans, hands on your hips, ready to move you back and forth. But instead, he pushed you forward till he's almost out of you again, only the tip inside. "Push back against me" he orders.

You don't think twice and start moving yourself.

"That's it, fuck yourself on my cock" he moans, his hands on your back until he feels your bra and takes that off as well. He grabs your wrists again, making sure you stay in that position.

He lets you move a little more until he takes control again. One hand grabbing your wrist and the other on your hip, controlling the movements. Pushing it deep and hard.

"Oh god! Matty!" you moan, eyes closed shut and your mouth wide open letting more moans out.

"That’s it, you're taking me so well" he says.

"Yesyesyes" you keep saying, already going dumb on him, only focused on how he feels pushing inside you repeatedly.

The hand that was on your hip goes under you to get to your clit and play with it to make you go even dumber.

"Oh my god, Matt" you whine. "Yes, that's it, yes!"

"Yeah, you like it, baby?" his other hand grabs your hair again tugs on it till your head is pulled back. "Keep moaning for me" he whispers in your ear.

"Matty! oh fuck, Matt. It feels so good, you're so deep in me" you cry out, knowing just what he likes to hear.

"Fuck, baby, yes" he groans too, fucking you even harder somehow. Abusing your clit faster and tugging more on your hair. "Are you gonna cum on this cock?"

"Yes, Matt! I'm so close!" and you didn't lie, the combination of all the things he's doing are driving you crazy only in the way he knows how to.

"Cum on it, cream my cock, baby, now" he groans only imagining it.

"Matt! Oh god, oh god!" you keep screaming for him as the orgasm takes over you.

"Atta girl, that's it" He gets back up, still fucking you. His hands back on your hips as he feels your juices around his dick, making it even wetter. "Fuck, sweetheart"

You're barely holding yourself in that position, knees already going weak and trying to catch your breath.

"I'm almost there, what if you give me one more?" he asks. He grabs you and makes you sit on his cock now. Your back on his torso, his arms around you to keep you in place. "Come on, baby, one more for me"

"O- okay" you say, and he takes care of you. Fucking into you while he plays with your clit again.

"Just one more, want to feel you squeezing me again" he moans.

"Yes, Matty" your hand goes back to grab his hair and his face hides on your neck, biting into it. "Fuck, yes, Matty!"

"Yes, cum. Cum on it again" he growls, going faster, messier.

Your walls squeeze him again, getting it even more wet. Your screams mixed with the squelching sounds and clap sounds your joined sexes make. That, plus the smell of your wetness and sweat in the air. It all drives him to the edge, and he lets go, cuming deep inside of you with cries of your name among some curses.

You can finally fall onto the bed, relaxing and you catch your breath. Matt lies beside you, also breathing heavily.

"I definitely should keep messing with you at the bar" you say and he laughs.

"Yeah, you should" he smirks and pulls you closer to kiss you.

[storytimewithnina]

And We Were Never the Same (Avengers x reader x Bucky)

Summary: When friends turn into enemies, nothing will ever feel the same again. The bonds once cherished are shattered, leaving behind a powerful reminder of how quickly loyalty can transform into betrayal.

Pairing: Reader (Y/N) x Avengers (Bucky focus)

~~~

Some time ago..

They found you in a Hydra cell. Broken. Barely breathing. Files said “Asset #29.”

No name. No past. Just a ghost with a barcode and a kill count.

Bucky had been the one to stand outside your medical room and say, “She’s like me.”

He meant it. You had the same empty eyes, the same fractured mind, the same screams in your sleep.

The Avengers took you in—not entirely out of trust, but out of guilt. Steve vouched for you. Natasha kept a blade under her pillow anyway.

But Bucky… he understood. He stayed up with you on the nights you woke up crying. You both stitched each other back together with shared silence, coffee at 3 a.m., and worn-out apologies for things neither of you could remember doing.

It wasn’t fast. It wasn’t clean. But you became part of them.

And it felt like you were healing.

Until the missions started again.

Until you began seeing things the others didn’t.

How Stark watched you too closely.

How Steve’s reports left out details.

How Fury spoke to you like a ticking bomb.

How they feared you—quietly, politely, but they did.

You weren’t one of them.

You were tolerated.

A means to a morally gray end.

And they lied to you.

You found the files in a corrupted SHIELD server. Your real past.

Hydra hadn’t made you a weapon. They’d found you after the Avengers failed to extract you from a mission gone sideways. You were seventeen. You waited three days for extraction. It never came.

They had known. They left you behind.

They thought you were dead.

And when Hydra picked you up—when they carved obedience into your bones—SHIELD made the whole incident disappear.

Steve read that report.

Nat filed it.

Tony signed off on the redaction.

You sat in the dark for hours after finding that out, listening to your own breathing like it was the only sound that still made sense.

Then you got the call.

The other side. The “wrong” side. People who had been chewed up and spit out by the same system. Forgotten. Left to rot.

They didn’t promise redemption. They promised revenge.

And you said yes.

Not out of hatred.

But because finally, someone believed you deserved to be angry.

~~~

You stood on the rooftop, watching flames eat away at Stark’s clean-cut skyline.

Below, the Avengers scrambled. Trying to find you. Trying to piece together how their ghost had become their traitor.

You could still hear Nat’s voice on the comms: “Y/N’s gone dark. She was with us five minutes ago.”

“No sign of forced entry. Shit—something’s missing from the vault,” Stark snapped.

“The Omega Protocol? Are you kidding me?”

Then Bucky. Voice low. “I’ll find her.”

Of course he would.

~~

He found you.

Footsteps.

Then his voice.

“Y/N.”

You don’t turn.

Instead, you raise your arms like you’re welcoming the apocalypse. Rain clings to your face, hair plastered down like you just crawled out of hell.

“Bucky. You made it. Aw. You always were the loyal dog.”

He flinches.

You finally turn, that eerie smile stretched too wide, eyes too bright—like someone who’s been talking to ghosts and liked it.

“Nice night for a betrayal, huh?” you say with a mock whisper. “Top ten plot twists?”

“Y/N, what are you doing?” he asks, but his voice is careful. Like you’re a wire about to snap.

You look down at the drive, spin it once, then slip it into your pocket with a flourish like it’s some magic trick.

“I’m correcting the narrative,” you say, voice lilting, sing-songy. “Because surprise, surprise—turns out I was the villain in someone else’s story all along. Might as well own it, right?”

“You’re not a villain—”

“Oh, Bucky,” you coo, stepping closer, head tilting. “Don’t lie to the unstable girl with a kill switch.”

Your smile fades. Something cracks underneath.

“Do you know what it’s like,” you whisper, voice sharp now, “to be buried alive in your own mind? Screaming, remembering every second of the moment you realized no one was coming for you?”

You tap your temple.

“I do. I lived there.”

Bucky swallows. Rain runs down his jaw like it’s trying to rinse the guilt off him.

“They thought you were dead,” he says. “We thought—”

“You didn’t think enough.” Your voice cuts through him like glass.

You start to laugh then—high, breathless, a little unhinged. “You know what’s funny? The part that really broke me wasn’t the torture or the reprogramming or the years of being treated like a weapon.”

Your smile sharpens into something ugly. Beautiful.

“It was coming back. And realizing I was just an inconvenience with a name.”

“You weren’t—”

“I was a liability. A project. A charity case to patch up and parade around like proof of redemption.”

You stalk closer. He doesn’t back up.

“Did you ever really see me?” you ask, quieter now. “Or just a reflection of what you were trying to forgive in yourself?”

Silence.

The rain falls harder now. Sirens in the distance. The world closing in.

You take a slow, shaky breath. When you speak again, it’s like your voice is splintering apart.

“I’m tired, Bucky.”

And it’s the first honest thing you’ve said.

“I’m so tired of being everyone’s aftermath. Their ghost. Their guilt.”

You take the drive out again. Hold it up like it’s salvation.

“But I can be something else now. Something they can’t ignore.”

“You’ll start a war,” he says, stepping forward, slow.

You smile again. This time it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“I am the war.”

He doesn’t reach for his weapon. He doesn’t try to stop you.

He just looks at you like he’s already mourning the death of someone he used to love.

“I loved you, Y/N.”

Your eyes flicker. And for a heartbeat—just one—there’s a flicker of the person you used to be.

Then you blink.

And she’s gone.

You offer a mocking little bow, soaking wet, grinning like the world’s burning and you finally understand the joke.

“Oops.”

Then you’re gone.

~~

In the months that follow, they’ll call you a ghost story. A cautionary tale.

Tony will up security. Nat will keep a bullet with your name on it.

Bucky?

He’ll stop talking during briefings.

He’ll stop sleeping.

And every time someone mentions your name, he’ll flinch like it still matters.

Because it does.

Because some ghosts don’t haunt houses.

They haunt hearts.

~~~

You don’t always lose people to death.

Sometimes, you lose them to the fire you helped start.

[enwoso]

forgotten | alessia russo

*this has been sitting in my drafts forever, it’s a bit of a longer one, some angst but happy ending, also pls imagine arsenal were in the champions league knock stages for the sake of the plot🙏🏻*

navigation

as her front door opened the first thing you did was practically through yourself at her, arms around her neck as your mouth presses soft to hers and you being eager after not seeing the blonde for over a month which only came to haunt you hours later.

alessia had kissed you back with just as much enthusiasm, of course she did, it was knee jerk reactions but once you finally pulled away and met her gaze as she was stood frozen still with a blank look on her face - a picture of total confusion.

"what are you doing here? why didn't you tell me you were coming? i'd have picked you up from the train station." you thought she was joking when she first said it, waiting for a teasing smile to curl at the corner of her lips as she tapped her fingers under your chin and kisses your cheek, while mumbling a 'i'm kidding - i missed you'

but she didn't - her head instead cocked to the side a little.

her gaze catching a glimpse of the roses you were holding as her brow crinkled even more, "what are the flowers for?" she asked. you blinked at her slow and unsure.

still trying to figure out if she was teasing you or not but her face gave you the answer, her face was blank as her eyes took in your form.

you looked down at the roses before looking back at the blonde almost as if you had forgotten about the flowers you had bought mere minutes before knocking on her door.

a feeling of something similar to dread beginning to boil low in your stomach as a heat crept up your neck, a one that felt a lot like humiliation as you wondered if the joke had been lost on alessia and she actually wasn't interested in the stupid bunch of roses.

"you." pressing them into her chest as you watched closely as her fingers wrapped carefully around the stems.

"i mean,, i obviously didn't just get you flowers, your other gifts are in my suitcase but i was at the train station and as i was waiting for a taxi there was a little florist and i remembered you always teasing me about how your always the one to send me flowers and i never send them back to.. you" the last word coming almost out as a whisper from you as it happened so quickly.

a wave of realisation hit alessias face as your words registered to her as the pit that fell deep in your chest when you understood her expression. pulling your head back and letting your hand drop from where it was settled on her waist and swallowed through the lump that had settled in your throat

"you've forgotten haven't you." plain and simple.

alessia had forgotten about your two year anniversary, she had clearly forgotten your plans to spend the weekend together that you had planned months in advance which she ensured you she had made sure nothing was in her schedule that would disrupt said plans.

but here you were standing like an idiot in her doorway with a bunch of roses and gifts you had spent months perfecting.

tension was building in her hallway as alessia's blues eyes were soft with guilt and regret. her mouth tipped with your worried lines and the only motion you seemed to be able to find was shaking your head as well as a disbelieving huff of laughter breaking the thick silence like a knife.

"you forgot didn't you? that it was our anniversary? that i was coming?" you could feel the pressure which was building behind your eyes, the hot flush and the sting of fear as you dig your nails into your palms to keep them at bay, willing yourself not to cry.

it was silly really but you had spent the entire train ride from manchester to london as well as the short car ride from the station thinking about finally seeing her, finally being in the comfort of her arms again and she has t even been bothered to remember the date.

you hadn't thought to remind her, hell you didn't think you would need to. she had assured you so many times that the date was marked in her calendar and that she would make sure she didn't have anything booked for that day. but maybe you should have sent her a heads up text.

"i didn't, no-not on purpose" alessia swallowed, setting the roses down on the small table beside her front door and taking a step towards you. her hands over her face as she rubbed her jaw. "i knew when it was, fuck i know when our anniversary is!"

"oh really?"

"i had the plans, i was gonna book the restaurant that you like to go to when you come down and take you to the new museum that opened up in town cause i made sure i didn't go with the arsenal girls cause i wanted to take you there first as you and i bought your gifts-"

"and what after all that planning, it still just suddenly slipped your mind?" you say bluntly taking alessia by surprise by your sudden coldness towards her.

"no! it's not like-"

"how do you forget something like that?"

"i've been busy with-"

"you're not the only one who has a busy schedule alessia! i have a life too, for fuck sake i do the same job as you and i still managed to remember our anniversary!" there was a hitch in your voice as well as a tremble to match the wobble of your bottom lip and this time it was alessia shaking her head she reached out trying to cup your cheek. only wincing when you jerked away from her touch.

"i've just been so distracted with training and the barcelona match, we play on wednesday and my head just been a mess. we've been working non stop, ive not nearly had enough time to do anything - it's all ive been thinking about. there's so much pressure on the me and the team and it's just taken over my whole life this past week!"

her hand fell tucking it away inside of her jogger bottoms which were plastered with an arsenal logo and the number 23, a way to stop herself from reaching for you again.

you could see the clear tension in her shoulders, a clear apology and pain in the way she was looking at you but you weren't sure how to actually accept it, you didn't know how to stop the ache that was ever so present inside of your chest. "i'm sorry"

"i know how important this match is to you, and i know how much work and effort you out in and i'm so incredibly proud of you, you have no idea but.."

"but what?"

"i thought i was important to you"

"no, don't do that" alessia began shaking her head as a evident frown appeared as she watched you quickly swipe your fingers beneath your eyes. "don't make out that i don't care about you or that i care less about you then football - you know that's not true."

"you forgot our anniversary because of a match, alessia! that's says a lot."

"and i’ve said im sorry! i lost track of the days not of you! i got too in my head and didn't realise. this isn't- this has nothing to do with how i feel about you. i love you and that you're the most important thing in my life, you know that but i just-" her voice began to crack and she made a face, taking a step back from you when she realised you were on the other side of the door.

your suitcase knocked over from your earlier eagerness to wrap yourself around the blonde. "i made a mistake" the blonde admitted, it coming out as a whisper as she fiddled with the rings on her fingers.

"it's a pretty big mistake." your cheeks were now wet but you weren't sure when you'd actually began to cry or when your stomach began to feel funny, that feeling of being in a free fall with the sleeve of your hoodie. you wiped over you face as you let your gaze fall to point over alessia's shoulder.

"people don't just forget things as big as this because of their job. relationships aren't supposed to feel second best."

"i've said i was sorry, i can make it up to you. i'll make the dinner reservations now and we can go to the museum tomorrow - you know i didn't mean to forget, i wouldn't have forgotten something like this if everything going on wasn't so chaotic!" the blonde sighed, pulling out her phone, probably to make the reservation for the restaurant but you began to talk again stopping her in her tracks as she looked at you dead in the eyes.

"maybe that isn't enough" you needed her to stop looking at you - needing some space to cry so you could get rid of the hurt, anger and embarrassment that had crawled onto your skin.

wanting also nothing more than to push the roses into the bin in her kitchen because looking at them were making the tears build even quicker.

"c'mon love, please i'm sorry. you have to let me try-"

"i don't have to let you do anything."

you probably sounded childish and maybe your reaction was, she had apologised and explained and maybe deep down you did understand but in the moment all you felt was anger. she had hurt you, making you feel as though you and your relationship was easily forgettable.

there was a breakdown building inside of you and as stupid as it may sound - the last place you wanted it to happen was in front of her.

"y/n" she spoke softly, as you sniffed and turned a blank expression at her. "i don't want to talk about it anymore. you forgot, you're sorry, no biggy right?"

"that's not what i said and you know it, let me fix it.. please."

"it's whatever" you mumbled moving your way towards your suitcase, tugging it into the house as you awkwardly pushed the door closed and moved you way around alessia's body. the blonde reaching out for you arm but you tugged it away - throwing a look toward the flowers. "you can just throw them in the bin, t'was a stupid idea anyway."

"y/n, baby."

"don't-" the sigh that escaped your lips was watery, the tears starting to fall again now that you were no longer facing your girlfriend. "can you just leave me alone?"

you hadn't spoken since then, both of you annoyed. you were embarrassed and hurt and alessia was riddled with stomach sinking guilt which she was unsure of how to get rid of.

she was avoiding the bedroom and likewise you were avoiding the living room which was a hard task considering she needed to use the bathroom and you need to use the kitchen. but with each passing it was met with a awkward silence - neither of you clearly ready to talk.

it was unlike the two of you. you rarely every fought and even if you did it would be over something silly like who had missed the other the most and would be resolved within an hour being brushed away with many breathy i love yous and mumbling apologies.

but this was different and not something that was small or stupid and couldn't simply be forgotten about because alessia had made you laugh.

she had forgotten your two year anniversary, forgetting that you had been due to visit her after being apart for a little over a month - this being the only time you both had off since you were still playing at manchester united and she had left to join arsenal.

the hurt that had unfolded in your chest as the image of her blank look reappeared in your head was nauseating.

embarrassment taking over you as the moment replays over and over in your head. you felt ridiculous standing there on her front step, roses in your hand that you had bought for her as it had always been a very long going joke between the two of you that you never returned the favour, hanging limp at her side.

it now being a little after four am and you were yet to find any sleep, the soft hum of traffic on the streets of london as a small breeze hit your hands creating small goose bumps on your hands.

your gaze glued to the street lights and cars which drove slowly down the street - each one having their own story. only blinking when the coldness of the air hit your eyes making them water.

her bed felt uncomfortable and cold - hence why you were sat outside on the small balcony at four in the morning. the lack of the blondes warmth was very noticeable as you had spent the entire night tossing and turning - huffing in annoyance and readjusting your pillow at least 25 times.

you wondered if she was still awake, still mulling over the afternoons fight - if she was feeling as bad as you did going to sleep on an argument after spending the whole day not talking. 

it was now almost morning and you were missing not being pressed up against her, missing the way her head would be resting against your chest as she kept your hand intertwined with hers. there was no point trying to go to sleep so with a huff you pulled yourself from the floor of the balcony and pulled a discarded hoodie from the floor over your head.

for a few seconds you simply pressed your nose against the fabric of the collar, her scent of strawberry shower gel and perfume still lingering. tickling your senses and making your tummy dip once again.

it was stupid how you could miss someone so much when you were only a few apart.

you were still mad, annoyed and hurt that something so important has slipped her mind but you did understand the pressure she was under while still trying to prove herself at arsenal. you wanting to forget that yesterday had happened and spent the weekend the way you'd originally planned.

but you were too stubborn and even more so when you were hurt and so instead of finding your blonde lover in the living room and cuddling yourself against her. you instead made your way to the kitchen, your sock covered feet barely making a sound.

the living room was dark beside the tv where the low hum of a film was making it difficult for you to hear if alessia was sleeping or not. but taking her lack of movement as a sign that she was, you carefully made your way past her. flicking the switch to turn the kitchen light in with a slight wince.

the first thing your eyes were drew to once they adjusted to the bright light was the roses, placed neatly in a vase on the kitchen counter - the protective wrapping gone and your throat suddenly went tight alongside a fresh set of tears prickling your eyes.

the flowers had been an impulse were an impulse buy, an inside joke which turned bitter when you realised it had gone over alessia's head but still she had set them out for everyone to see.

the second thing was that she had left your favourite mug beside the coffee machine, everything prepped and ready for you to use, a clear indication that despite your lack of communication the night before, she had clearly been thinking about you.

both were small gestures, meaningless really on a bigger scale but they had your heart squeezing tight with a small smile tipping at the corner of your lips - the first once since you had arrived.

while you were waiting for the coffee machine to heat up you rearranged the roses, an unnecessary task but was really just to keep your mind from wanting to alessia.

if you thought about her you'd probably begin to cry again, your emotions still getting the better of you but as if she knew you were subconsciously thinking of her she appeared in the doorway of the kitchen.

her pink silk pyjama bottoms were slung low on her hips, a black hoodie covering her top half - the strings different lengths and was something that drove you crazy and taking everything inside you not to go and fix the strings with careful fingers, to press your lips to her chin.

her blue eyes were rimmed with dark circles, tired and dull and no doubt a mirror image of your own appearance and an obvious indication she hadn't slept either.

her blue eyes darting between you and the rose petal you were rubbing between your fingers. "they weren't a stupid idea"

the coffee machine began to splutter behind you, hissing a little with age and without replying you spun to make your drink. alessia's gaze sticking to your back and you could feel it as you added a coffee pod to the machine and slotted your cup beneath the spout.

without realising you reached for alessia's own mug, it being a habit of muscle memory alone and took out a vanilla late pod from the box on the side.

"look i know it doesn't matter how many times i say sorry, i know it doesn't make it any better but i am forgetting was a shitty move and football isn't an excuse but you have to know that it wasn't because of you. i think about you constantly when your not down in london, everything i look at here reminds me of you but this has been the week from hell and I've let everything get on top of me, and i'm so incredibly sorry."

her voice was thick with emotion, a harsh scratch to her usually honey sweet voice that made your insides ache. you knew she was sorry and you knew she's try anything in her power to make up for it and you also knew that your silence was slowly eating her alive as the hours went on but you weren't exactly sure what to say.

you weren't sure if you could say anything without getting upset again. instead you settled for grabbing a spoon, keeping your gaze locked in your coffee.

"tesoro." alessia was only a few feet behind you. "you can't ignore me forever"

"i can try."

"yeah?" she settled against the counter at your side back pressed into the cupboard and regarded you with lowered lashes.

you didn't meet her gaze, only swapping the old coffee pod for her new one and slipped her mug where you'd had previously been, an action which didn't go unnoticed by alessia.

"what about when you need something off the top shelf?" she said trying her best to crack your silence, but the only noise being made was the tinkling of the spoon you were using against the sides of your mug.

alessia sighed, "hey, look at me." her fingers hesitantly found your face, unsure if you were just going to move out of her reach but you didn't. her soft touch against your jaw as she tilted your head up until your gaze finally found hers. her brows crinkling in concern.

"i'm sorry, okay? and i'll continue to say it as many times as i need to until you forgive me. i know this isn't something small and i know i’ve hurt you and i hate that, you know you always come first and above anything and anyone else and i'm sorry if i made you feel like that wasn't my intention"

her thumb brushed over the skin beneath your eye and it was impossible not to turn your cheek into her palm, seeking comfort in her touch. "it's not an excuse, but i've nearly had anything to do but train and it just slipped my mind what this weekend was - but that doesn't mean you or our relationship are ever second best. i love you so much, just-just please let me make it up to you"

the coffee machine beeped when alessia's coffee was finished but not one of you made a move to grab it, gazes locked in a heated stare, one that was unfurling a hundred different emotions inside of you.

she looked unsure, worried that you may turn away from her, that this weekend was going to be spent in silence and that you were going to leave on bad terms. the longer you stared at her the more her face seemed to relax.

"let me fix it please"

"it was a shitty thing to do and it hurts"

"i know and im-"

"but i don't want to fight, i’m no in way saying it's okay or that it doesn't feel any less like shit but i know the amount of pressure you put yourself under and i know that this match is important to you." you fianlly allowed your hand to rise to her shoulder and pull at the strings of her hoodie making them the same length, fingers grazing the warm skin of her neck.

knowing this relationship is important too.

"you're important to me me." alessia brought your fingers to her mouth, pressing a series of soft kisses over your knuckles. "i know it doesn't make up for it but i really did have everything planned"

"it's okay."

"it's not and you know it's not" she tipped your hand, palm up and skimmed her mouth over the centre her eyes locked on yours. "but i want to fix it, if you'll let me. i have the day fee - i can book the restaurant and we can go to the museum and do whatever you want, i know it won't be the same but.. please"

there was a note of desperation in her tone and it was only then that you realised how close she'd drawn you to her, your bodies almost pressed flush together. you knew the full ache in your chest wasn't going to disappear immediately but you also knew alesssia was sincere in her apologies and in her determination to things right and it was obvious that despite yesterdays anger you wanted to spend today with her.

"i'm still mad at you."

"i know, i deserve it."

"but i've missed you."

alessia gave you a little nod, slipping her hand around the back of your neck her thumb brushed back and forth over the skin beneath your hoodie.

"i've missed you too, i promise today will make up for it!" her breath fanned warm over your lips and you hadn't even realised you'd filled your mouth towards her. the hurt that had been wedged in your chest was beginning to lift and being replaced with a burning need to have her arms around you.

it had only been hours but you felt her absence like a lost limb, a need blooming deep inside your bones to be pressed flush against her.

"i think you can start by kissing me."

"that i can do!"

alessia smirked slightly, bending her head and using her hand that was already in your neck to pull you in and close her mouth over yours. the kiss was soft and slow, a gentle drag of her lips over yours. the sweet and languid stoke of her tongue when you opened your mouth and angled in closer.

the tips of her fingers grazed your jaw and then she was cupping your cheeks and pressing your back into the counter, tugging lightly at your bottom lip before returning to kissing you.

heat trickled thick like honey down your spine, your hands fisting the material of her black hoodie tugging her impossibly closer before you wound your arms around her waist.

you didn't want to stop kissing her. you wanted to stay in this moment forever wanted to keep swallowing the sound she was making low in her throat until you were dizzy off them but alessia had other ideas. pressing a few single kisses to you mouth, her blue orbs opening and licking to yours - a gaze a lot lighter then when she first walked into the kitchen.

"i bought you a gift. for yesterday, it's been in my drawer for months and i spent the whole night staring at it thinking i wasn't going to have the chance to give you it"

she kissed the corner of your mouth and then your forehead before letting her hands drop from your face, once of them reaching into the pocket of her hoodie.

"i got it made at this jewellers when we were in australia, i thought it would maybe be a small piece of me that you could have with you even if we are not together" she blinked, sending you a sheepish smile as she pulled a little box, holding it between you and the palm of her hand.

"it probably silly but i remember you saying while we were in australia that you wanted a new necklace, one that you could wear all the time so-"

"lessi." you cut through her rambling with a soft laugh, letting your gaze dart down towards the box.

"huh? oh- sorry, here open it" doing as she said, you took the small box from her. lifting the top and revealing a thin gold chain and a tiny dainty gold charm - the number 23 sat pretty in the box, no bigger than the size of your pinky nail. a rush of emotions shifting through you, a small smile breaking out across your face as you fingers grazed over it.

"thought it might be nicer than my initial"

"it's beautiful"

"i love you, and yesterday- yesterday was stupid and i loyalty fucked up but it wasn't because of my feelings for you" alessia swallowed thickly, the worried crinkle had returned back between her brows but you were quick in lifting your head and pressing a reassuring kiss to her mouth.

"i know - and not because of the necklace but because of everything else you do for me, yesterday was a mistake and i know you love me and i love you, so much. what happened wasn't going to change that" you smiled softly and with your free hand grazed your fingers across her jaw before settling your hand against the back of her neck, pulling her softly into another kiss.

you let the kiss speak for its self and say everything you hadn't already, putting all your love and adoration into it. making sure that alessia knew how you felt and that you weren't going to let yesterday become a roadblock on your relationship.

feeling her hands on your waist beneath your hoodie, her finger tips warm as she gripped you, pulling you closer. the necklace was still in the palm of your hand, alessia realising this when she felt the edge of the box jab her in her stomach. the blonde pulling back, settling her forehead against yours.

"i love you, la mia bella ragazza"

"i love you, lessi."

liked by ellatoone and 894,107 others

alessia one year down, forever left to go❤️ i love you tesoro

comments -

yourusername forever? i have to put up with your clumsiness forever!

49m 125 likes     reply

-> alessia i’m not that bad!

ellatoone i see how it is, cutting me out of the first photo!

1h 140 likes     reply

-> alessia that wasn’t me!

-> ellatoone yeah yeah🙄

millieturner my favourites🥹

1h 98 likes     reply

-> yourusername we love you🩷

[wchswift]

HABZHSBAH HIII LINAAA (it's me again 😭) gosh i don't want to appear as a desperate but it seems that you're the only who opens your request for leopold 😔😭

just a small request :3 from a prompt that i encountered "... sorry, i talked too much" "no no no not at all, keep talking. i love listening to you."

well, we all know what a gentleman leopold is HABSUSBSH (I NEED HIM SO BAD MY BABY), i don't have any plot in mind so maybe you could create yours based on the prompt?? thank you!! (i love your writings)

Every Word You Say

Pairing: Leopold Mountbatten x Reader Content: strangers to friends to lovers (kind of), yapping, fluff, reader is a bookworm, Leopold is head over heels, English isn’t my first language :) Word count: 2.6k (maybe I got a little excited) a/n: HIII ZAYN BESTIE!! I'm so happy you're sending me requests yayy, thanks to you I could write to Leopold my baby again (pls keep going)! okay I have to admit that I loved this prompt and maybe I got a little carried away about the plot... Maybe I've strayed a little from what you wanted (I hope not), but I really hope you like it cause I really enjoyed writing it <3

It was a good afternoon. The store was quiet, as usual, with only a few customers coming and going and not much activity. Afternoons like that were nice—there wasn't much work to do, but sales were enough to keep the place from feeling forgotten. This allowed some time to relax behind the counter and arrange books on the shelves.

The faint jingling of the brass bell above the door broke the comforting silence of the shop. The sound made her look up from the stack of books on the counter, brushing a stray hair from her face as she spotted the man who had just entered.

He was tall and impeccably dressed, with an air of calm that seemed at odds with the frenetic city outside. His coat was neatly buttoned, his shoes polished, and he carried himself with a poise that made her pause. New Yorkers weren’t usually this... composed. It was weird. But most importantly, he was so beautiful.

“Hi, good afternoon,” she greeted, flashing him a polite smile. “Let me know if I can help you find anything.”

The man hesitated for a moment before nodding, his eyes scanning the shelves. “Thank you,” he said, his voice smooth and deliberate, the kind of voice that made even the most mundane words sound elegant.

She went back to organizing her stack of books, sneaking a glance now and then as he browsed. He moved slowly, as though savoring the sight of each title, his fingers brushing over the spines like they were relics. Finally, he stopped at the classics section and pulled out a leather-bound book.

He turned to her, holding the book aloft. “This edition of The Odyssey... it’s rather splendid. Do you recommend it?”

She blinked, surprised at his formality. “Oh, definitely. It’s one of my favorites. That edition has some great commentary in the back, too. Though, fair warning, if you get me started on books, I might not shut up.” She confessed, her tone amusing but gentle.

A faint smile tugged at his lips. “I assure you, I regret nothing. Please, continue.”

She smiled genuinely at him, feeling a small flutter of surprise at his response. Most people gave a polite nod or chuckle when she rambled, but this man seemed really interested. Encouraged, she leaned against the counter, her hands gesturing animatedly as she began talking.

“You can’t go wrong with The Odyssey,” she said. “I mean, it’s a classic for a reason, right? Epic journeys, gods meddling in human affairs, monsters… And don’t get me started on Odysseus himself. Brilliant, but also kind of an idiot, if you ask me.” She laughed, then quickly added, “Oh, but you know... I mean that in the best way, of course.”

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. "Hm, Is that so? Fascinating perspective. You find fault with his decisions?”

“Oh, plenty,” she replied, warming to the topic. “Some of his problems are his own fault—like the whole Cyclops thing? That could’ve been avoided if he’d just kept his mouth shut. But that’s what makes him interesting. He’s flawed. Human. It makes the story feel timeless, even though it’s thousands of years old.”

As the words tumbled out of her, she noticed his expression soften. His gaze didn’t waver, his posture relaxed yet attentive, as though he were cataloging every word she said.

So she just kept talking, completely oblivious to him or how he was mesmerized watching her, the excitement and ease with which she lost herself in the topic. After a moment like that, it was like something hit her, realizing how much she’d been talking, she stopped abruptly, her cheeks heating. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to go on like that. You came for the books and probably weren’t expecting an impromptu lecture on Greek mythology.”

He tilted his head slightly, his smile deepening. “Not at all. Your enthusiasm is... refreshing. Please, go on.”

Her lips twitched in a smile of her own. “You’re dangerous, you know that? Most people try to shut me up, but not you. You’re encouraging me.”

“I can’t imagine why anyone would wish you to stop,” he replied earnestly.

The sincerity in his tone caught her off guard, leaving her momentarily speechless. She licked her lips, momentarily speechless and lost in him. After that, she just knew she would want to keep him in her life for as long as possible.

After that, it didn’t take long for him to return.

As she rearranged a display near the window the next afternoon, the bell above the door jingled again. She glanced up, half-expecting the usual flow of customers, only to see the same man from the day before.

He greeted her with the same polite nod and reserved smile, his gaze sweeping over the shop like he was committing every detail to memory.

“Back so soon?” she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice.

He stopped near the counter, his posture impeccably straight. “I enjoyed our conversation yesterday. And I have a fondness for bookshops.”

“Well, then you’ve come to the right place,” she said, gesturing to the shelves around them. “Find anything interesting today?”

He paused, his gaze flicking to the classics section before returning to her. “Not yet, but I have no doubt you will recommend something.”

“Challenge accepted,” she said, already scanning the shelves in her mind for the perfect book. "Oh, sorry. What's your name again?"

As the days passed, Leopold's visits became routine. He would step into the shop with that same calm air, and they would talk—about books, history, the city, and whatever topic struck her fancy. He never seemed to mind when she rambled, always listening with the kind of focus that made her feel like the most fascinating person in the room. Something she wasn't even a little bit used to, by the way.

Their interaction was so easy and natural. When she talked to him, was always exciting and gave her a feeling of comfort. So it wasn't exactly a surprise when she quickly grew accustomed to his presence. It was strange how easily he fit into the rhythm of her days, even though she knew so little about him.

Each time he came in, she found herself lighting up in ways she hadn’t expected. She would recommend books, tease him about his formal speech, and talk about whatever was on her mind, and he never failed to listen with unwavering attention. She never, not once, felt uncomfortable or unseen in his presence. He was like a prince in a fairy tale.

One rainy afternoon, as she stacked a new shipment of books behind the counter, the man who wouldn't leave her thoughts walked in with droplets clinging to his coat and hair. She glanced up, smiling automatically.

“Caught in the rain, huh?” she asked, setting down the stack.

“Indeed,” he said, brushing water from his sleeves. “Though I find it a small price to pay for the solace this shop provides.” He complimented, in his usual formal way.

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “You always know how to make the place sound fancier than it is. It’s just a bookshop, you know.”

He tilted his head, a faint smile gracing his lips. “To you, perhaps. To me, it is quite extraordinary.”

The quiet sincerity in his voice made her breath catch for a moment. She quickly looked away, fiddling with a loose thread on her sleeve.

“Well,” she said, her tone lighter, “if you’re going to keep flattering the place, I should at least give you a tour of the neighborhood. There are some other spots I think you’d like—if you’re interested.”

His eyebrows rose slightly, as though the suggestion surprised him. “I would be delighted,” he said, feeling his heart race.

This finally happened two days later.

The city bustled around them, cars honking and voices blending into a constant hum, but she took him down quieter streets, pointing out her favorite spots.

“This café has the best pastries,” she said, gesturing to a small storefront with a faded awning. “And the park a few blocks down is great if you need to get away from all this.”

He listened attentively, nodding at her words but occasionally glancing around with a furrowed brow, as though trying to make sense of his surroundings.

When they reached a crosswalk she stepped forward without thinking, only to realize he hadn’t moved. She turned back to see him standing on the curb, watching the cars zip by with a look of mild apprehension.

“Hey, you coming?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Is it always this... chaotic?” he asked, his tone half-amused, half-exasperated.

“Pretty much. You just have to commit to it.” She grabbed his arm lightly, tugging him forward as the light changed. “Come on—don’t think, just go.”

He followed reluctantly, muttering under his breath, “This city has no regard for decorum—or the sanctity of life.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Yeah, I swear you'll get used to it. Well, eventually.”

As they walked through the park, the noise of the streets faded behind them, replaced by the rustle of leaves and the distant chatter of joggers. She led him to a bench near a small fountain, sitting down and patting the spot next to her.

“See? Not so bad, right?” she said, leaning back with a contented sigh.

He settled beside her, his posture as upright as ever. “It is... quieter than I expected,” he admitted. “Rather pleasant, in fact.”

“I knew you’d like it,” she said, smiling. “You know, You're not as hard to please as you seem.”

He gave her a sidelong glance, his lips twitching in a faint smile. “Oh, I imagine this is good?”

She laughed softly, and for a moment they sat in comfortable silence, watching the fountain's water ripple in the breeze. They enjoyed being at peace, simply appreciating each other's company.

That evening, he returned to the bookshop. The streets were quieter now, the glow of the streetlights casting long shadows across the floor as she tidied up before closing.

He lingered by the counter as she talked, her words spilling out in an excited stream as she recounted a childhood memory sparked by a book she’d come across earlier that day.

“So when I was ten, I had this phase where I was obsessed with The Secret Garden,” she said, gesturing as she spoke. “I even convinced my dad to help me plant this tiny garden in our backyard. Except, I was an awful gardener—I kept forgetting to water it, and half the flowers were just weeds I thought looked cool.”

She laughed, shaking her head at the memory. “But I’d still sit out there for hours, waiting for my own magical door to appear. My dad always called it my ‘weed palace.’”

Leopold chuckled softly, his smile warm. “A ‘weed palace,’ you say? Peculiar, but at the same time charming.”

“Well, maybe to you,” she replied, grinning. “To everyone else, it was probably an eyesore.”

She paused, glancing at the clock and suddenly realizing how long she’d been talking. Her cheeks flushed as she glanced at him.

“Oh God... I’m sorry, I talked too much. I really need to learn when to stop.”

Leopold, who has been utterly captivated, loses the humor in his eyes, his expression shifting to something quieter, warmer as he tries to reassure her.

“No, no, not at all. Keep talking. I love listening to you.” he said softly.

Her breath caught at the earnestness in his voice, the way his gaze held hers as though he truly meant every word. For a few seconds, she could only stare, her usual quick wit failing her.

“Thanks,” she murmured finally, a shy smile tugging at her lips.

The warmth in his eyes didn’t waver, and in that quiet moment, the bustling world outside seemed to fade away entirely.

A comfortable silence settled in for a few minutes. Leaving them there, just staring at each other, observing each other. For a moment, she didn't know what else to say. People didn’t usually look at her the way he was now—like every word she said was worth hearing. It was flattering, a little unnerving, but mostly... nice. She blinked a few times, adjusting her posture while lightly playing with her hair, hoping to dispel the warmth creeping into her cheeks.

The quiet between them was the kind of silence that felt full, warm, and fascinating. She fiddled with the edge of her sleeve, glancing at him as he remained by the counter, looking as though he had something more to say.

Finally, she cleared her throat and spoke, her voice soft. “You know, you’re a pretty good listener. Most people get bored with my stories halfway through.”

He shook his head slightly, his lips curving into that faint, knowing smile she was beginning to adore. “I find your stories enchanting. They are... a window into a world I often feel I’m only just discovering.”

Her brow furrowed at the odd phrasing, but before she could question it, he stepped a little closer, his hands gently resting on the counter. His gaze softened, the usual formality in his expression giving way to something more vulnerable.

“It’s rare,” he continued, his voice low, “to find someone who speaks with such passion. Most people... say so little of consequence. But you—your words, your thoughts—they breathe life into even the most mundane things.”

Her heart gave a tiny flutter, and she felt warmth creep up her neck again. “That’s... really sweet of you to say,” she murmured, looking down at her hands.

For a brief moment, uncertainty flickered across his face. He took a deep breath, then, with a soft, deliberate motion, tilted his head to meet her eyes. The sincerity in his eyes was unmistakable as he declared, “I speak only the truth.”

The sincerity in his voice sent a spark of something unnameable through her chest, and she met his gaze, a shy smile tugging at her lips.

“Well,” she said lightly, trying to steady her voice, “if you keep flattering me like that, I might start to think you enjoy my company.”

His smile deepened, feeling more real, with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “I should hope that has been apparent for some time.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re kind of a mystery, you know that? But... I think I like that about you.”

“And you,” he said, his tone softening again, “are an open book. A rare and beautiful one.”

Her breath caught, and for a moment, she couldn’t look away from him. The faint glow of the shop’s dim lighting reflected in his eyes, and the quiet hum of the world outside seemed to fade entirely. She momentarily dropped her gaze to his lips before his voice brought her back.

“Would you,” he began, his voice careful, almost hesitant, “permit me the honor of accompanying you on another of your walks? Perhaps tomorrow?”

She bit her lip, her heart racing in a way that felt new and thrilling, together with the urge to jump into his arms. “I think I’d like that,” she replied, her voice just above a whisper.

He straightened slightly, a look of quiet satisfaction crossing his face. “Then it’s settled.”

As the bell above the door jingled softly, signaling his departure, she stood there for a moment, watching him disappear into the night. She closed her eyes as a painful smile appeared on her face, she quickly did a happy dance before lightly resting her hands on the counter.

Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

[reverieblondie]

The Dare

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Spider-woman!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Some Plot, Stealing Stuff, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Degrading, Unprotected Penetrative Sex, Hair Pulling, Fingering, Reader is called Slut.

Summary: Hobie takes the dare game up a notch. Unexpected events ensue...

A/N: This is my first fanfiction ever so please be kind!  If I missed any warnings or my grammar and spelling sucks please just let me know. I thought this idea was funny so figured I would share! 

Word Count: 5,757 (still working on my editing skills so warning)

Hobie casually struts into view, wearing Peter's favorite pink robe. He has a smirk on his face. He obviously was successful in the dare.

You, Hobie, Gwen and Ben were passing time at HQ by having a friendly game of daring each other to do things, you all recently got done with a mission so it was perfect to kill time, Gwen had suggested truth or dare but Hobie said that dares only would make for a better game. It started innocently enough like reading the last text message you sent your crush, drinking a bottle of hot sauce but you can’t drink anything else for 10 minutes, and going to dance in the cafeteria to no music to see if anyone joins you, but it quickly diverted to more dangerous dares.  

“I can't believe you were able to get that” Ben laughs out as Hobie strikes poses while Gwen and you cheer him on 

“Oh this was nothing mate, I do believe that is your turn for a dare Miss Y/N” 

You look at Hobie with a smirk, if he was trying to scare you it wasn't going to work.  “I can handle whatever you throw at me Hobie, all these dares have been a cakewalk so far” 

Hobie smirks, “Why don't we get you something challenging then, hm?”

You shrug feeling confident “I'm not scared of any dare”

“Any dare?”

“Yep!”

“No backing out aye?”

“No backing out” you grin, feeling that he wouldn't be able to think of anything too crazy, but you forget this is Hobie, and he loves to push the limits.

Hobie thinks for a moment, his face contorted with thought, and then a wicked smirk flashes on his face, he looks at you and leans in knowing he had a perfect dare. 

“I dare you to steal a pair of Miguel's underwear” Gwen and Ben exchange shocked looks then look back at you, brows furrowed mouth agape you are equally as shocked by the request.

“What?!”

Hobie goes to repeat but is quickly cut off by you interrupting him “Eh…Please don't repeat it I heard you.” This causes Hobie to laugh

“So are you game?”

you think for a moment, that stealing Miguel’s underwear…this was definitely a challenge and a bit of a gamble on your life. But you would never hear the end of it from Hobie if you backed out now. Face riddled with concern you look up at Hobie, a fire in your eye blooms not wanting to be beaten. 

“I'm game!”

You and Hobie shake hands the dare is on, no backing out now. 

You first had to think about a game plan to get Miguel's underwear. It's not like you can just walk up and ask the guy, he was the big boss he could crush your head like a peanut. Plus it didn't help that you had a fat crush on him, and now you have to nab his underwear.

Taking a deep breath you headed to Miguel's room in HQ. You ducked around corners and made sure you were not being followed or looking too suspicious, though that wasn't easy to do considering you were sweating bullets. Miguel's room was known to be located at the top of HQ, being the leader and founder of the Spider Society means you get to have a penthouse suite at your job you guess. 

You had only ever been to the door of his room once, you had forgotten to give him your mission reports on time so you had to hand deliver them one night at Miguel's irritated request, you remember that night having to rush the paperwork over and banging on the door, for Miguel to reveal himself in sweatpants and an oversized shirt hair lose from a recent shower. Seeing him in such a casual state had worsened your crush.  Miguel just gave you the same furrowed expression he always seemed to have glued to his face, looking you up and down before he took your reports without uttering a word to you. 

After that night you couldn't help but fantasize about Miguel doing more casual mundane things, like grocery shopping or maybe telling jokes to you, the guy was in a consistent state of stress so thinking about him relaxed made you excited. People might think it would be weird but hey it's your fantasy, not theirs.

Finally making your way to the top you peek around a corner looking at his door. There is no one around from what you can tell, so you check your watch. Perfect it's still afternoon, Miguel, the workaholic he is, never leaves his office early so you still have plenty of time. Sneaking over to the door you try the handle, and to your surprise…it's unlocked? Huh? Miguel should lock his room. There are some real weirdos out there, the current weirdo being you. Then again what idiot would be dumb enough to sneak into Miguel's private space? Oh yeah thanks to the dare, you! 

Through the door you steadily walk in, the living room is huge, nicely lit, minimalist design, and very clean, a total opposite to Miguel's office which is dark with all kinds of clutter. A nice large sofa and a TV that hardly looks like it's ever been used decorate the space, attached to the vast living room, a kitchen with a sleek-looking island and very modern appliances, some you can't even recognize. As you go further and further in his suite, you tiptoe around looking at everything, if you didn't know this was Miguel's place you would have never thought that anyone lived here, so devoid of any kind of personality. Maybe he's just a minimalist? 

As you quietly walk through the impressive suite you hear a noise that stops you in your tracks. You look and see a door that is slightly cracked, you examine the door cautiously slowly making your approach. Another noise draws you in closer, a grunt?

 Thanks to your careful steps you manage to sneak to the door and peer inside without making a sound. Peering through the slit of the door you lean in to survey what caught your attention, your eyes widened at the sight and your breath instantly halts. 

There he is Miguel, your leader, your crush fully nude standing in his master bedroom, head thrown back eyes screwed shut, fangs fully extended, moaning in pleasure as he tightly fucks his cock with his hand. His hips are jutting forward slightly, his angry red tip leaking glistening precum that only aids in his feverish fucking. His muscles are tense and rippling, each moan makes his massive body shake. You are mesmerized by the sight, you're sure your jaw is on the floor. You are watching Miguel O’Hara fucking his hand chasing any kind of release.

 Continuing to watch his relentless pursuit, your excitement builds as you watch. Mouth dry and wanting to desperately attach yourself to his cock and lick and suck till your thirst is quenched from his release. Your thoughts run rampant, you shouldn’t be watching this, it's wrong, but you can’t take your eyes off him. His tanned skin glowing with the subtle sheen of sweat, his moans egging him on and equally you. 

The whole display has you tightening your thighs together, your arousal ls pooling in your panties. He starts to move with more sloppiness, slipping incoherent words in Spanish to the air and he gets close to his high. Then to your pleasure, sticky white ropes escape him and cover his large hand painting him white. He continues to pump for a few more moments, slightly shaking as he does. He then opens his eyes, grabs a towel resting on his bed and cleans himself, as he’s cleaning he gives a small sigh looking more relaxed during his come down and takes a deep inhale from his nose. Then he stops and his face contorts to confusion, taking another whiff of the air again he looks towards the slightly ajar door. 

You jump quickly backpedaling from the door, did he see you? Shit you need to hide, you quickly tiptoe to the next door finding yourself in what looks like a home office. You look around the room quickly scanning for a place to hide, a desk catches your attention, this will have to do. Quickly hiding below it you hear Miguel walking slowly into the room looking around. Heart beating rampant you place your hand over your mouth and steady your breathing, you can not get caught he will kick you out of society or worse kill you! 

Miguel scratches his head and gives a slight “huh” before leaving the room and going back to the bedroom. You wait a few moments before you poke your head out cautiously. Looks all clear, you quickly go to make your escape, but then you stop the dare…you got to get that underwear, it was just a stupid game but your pride was going to get the better of you and you didn’t want to be subjected to Hobies teasing of how you couldn’t hack it after all your big talk. You swallow down your fear and turn towards the bedroom door. 

You approach the door hesitantly and place your ear to it, you hear what sounds like a shower, Miguel must be doing some aftercare for himself. Taking all risks you gently open the door and peer inside your spider senses helping to guide you through feeling no immediate danger. Peering inside you see the room is empty. Walking in you look for a dresser but with no luck, the only thing you see is a large bed and nightstand, ever the minimalist huh Miguel? Your eyes go to the door on the side of the room where you hear the shower being used. 

This is stupid, this is stupid, this is stupid! You're going to get seen! Thinking to yourself as you slowly crack open the door to the master bathroom. Looking through the crack you see a silhouette of Miguel in the shower, the glass is steamed over from the intestine heat of the water he is cleaning himself with. It’s so hot that as you carefully crawl in you feel the heat and humidity in the air thick and making it hard to breathe. 

Miguel is something else to take such scouring showers. You look around, eyes darting all over the floor for any chance of dirty clothes and then to the fogged-up shower making sure he is still blissfully unaware of the invasion of privacy. Your eyes catch what looks to be another door that you are betting to be his closest, you quickly crawl over and sneak into the closet carefully shutting the door behind you. 

Looking around the closet you see a variety of different clothes ranging from tee shirts and jens to luxury suits and jackets. Your attention falls to a leather jacket that you can’t help but touch, imagining how wonderful he must look in this jacket, what you wouldn’t give…you quietly slap your hands to your cheeks trying to refocus. you're on a mission here! 

Surveying around your eyes lands on what seems to be a dresser. Quickly rushing over you open the first small drawer, socks in various neutral colors. Okay, drawer number two, you open and bingo! There they are Miguel’s assortment of underwear, boxers or briefs? He’s a brief man.

Eyeing the underwear you feel a tinge of embarrassment and guilt looking at his underwear, this is pretty perverse, you already watched him masterbait now taking his underwear? Well, it's only because of the dare that makes it less perverse right? You did get excited from watching him, do you have a problem? Too horny maybe? You shrug that’s something you will ponder another day, today you have a mission. Plunging your hand in the drawer you take the first pair your hand falls to, navy blue. This will have to work!

Still hearing the shower you are thankful he seems to be taking his time. Going to make your escape you head for the door, then just your luck, the shower turns off, fuck. Quickly backtracking to the closet you hide yourself leaving a crack so you peer out to watch. 

Miguel wipes the fogged-up glass of the shower revealing his damp hair cascading down his forehead, the water rolling down his chiseled physique, you feel your heat dripping down as you watch. Note to self find an excuse to pour water on Miguel so you can see him dripping wet again. You watch with intrigue as he swiftly wraps his towel around his narrow waist drawing attention to his deep v.

It takes everything in you to not drool and melt away into a puddle on his floor. Every movement of his routine made you desire him more and more, you were down bad. Miguel brushes his hair back with his hands and that has you almost losing all sense, why is everything he does so sexy? You need to get a grip. Studying him you wait for an opportunity to make your escape without getting caught, just have to be patient now. He's looking at himself in the mirror looking at his jaw and inspecting his face, he then widens his lips to reveal his teeth and fangs on full display.

The sight of his fangs has you holding your breath. That’s right if you get caught he would have no problem using those things on you, actually, that’s not a terrible idea…no! Too horny, get out of here! 

Miguel opens a drawer at the sink and pulls out some floss, he tentatively pulls a long string out and begins to floss around his teeth making sure to go carefully around his fangs. Why is this oddly adorable? Scary Spider man adorably flossing, and very cute. Miguel gets done flossing and licks his teeth, then something you never thought you would ever see. He smiles to himself in the mirror before quickly going back to his permanent neutral state. Too bad he doesn't smile more often; you often try to make him smile when you get to interact with him at work. Telling jokes, funny stories, smiling and waving as you pass him but nothing has ever seemed to work out for you. 

Miguel sighs and shakes his head going away from the mirror to his bedroom. Okay, enough daydreaming you need to get out of here quickly. You decide the best way to sneak out is to crawl on the wall, you start scaling the wall crawling on the ceiling. He left the door to the room open so you peek your head in, and it’s all clear. You crawl through and go to exit his bedroom as you are about to get down to open the door. It swings open causing you to quickly flatten yourself to the ceiling. Miguel walks in with a bottle of water in hand still in a towel from the shower. As he is right under you he stops and sniffs, shit shit! Why does he keep doing that? Do you smell? You took a shower this morning, you should not be smelling. 

As Miguel whips his head side to side you quickly and quietly slip out the bedroom before he has a chance to get wise and look up. 

You quickly get down from the ceiling and start making your pursuit to the door. You did it! You made it, you got the underwear! Oh, the look on Hobie’s face is going to be priceless!

Suddenly, as you are about to reach out to the knob and make your escape, feeling the high of success you are pulled back and swiftly turned around to be met with a crimson-eyed Miguel, and he looks pissed. It’s in this moment you wish to see Miguel who was smiling but you're not getting that side of him you're getting Miguel burning with rage. “I thought I fucking smelled you…” okay wow, ouch? Do you smell bad? Before you can say anything his hand grabs your face and squeezes your cheeks “What are you doing in my room?” 

You stare at him, lips puckered and eyes wide, this is how you die…

Miguel squeezes you harder “Answer me…” he growls, he’s so close to you, you can feel the vibration in his chest, his heat burning your skin his smell invading your senses, it’s intoxicating being this close, he's not wearing a shirt and only in those familiar sweatpants, you can’t help but notice your panties getting soaked. However you can’t get lost in the fantasy right now, you’ve been caught and you need to focus on not losing your life. 

“I’m sorry” you mutter out as best you can. Miguel continues to stare daggers into you, he wants more of an answer than that. 

“I didn’t think you would be here”

Miguel releases your face and now keeps his hands on your arms pinning you to the nearest wall. “Why would you even come in here?” He looks you up and down for a moment and that’s when he sees what’s in your hands, his eyes widening in surprise “Is that…” 

“Wait! Miguel, I can explain! This isn't what it looks like!” 

Miguel tilts his head at you, “Yeah? Because it looks like you're a nasty little perv” 

His derogation sends shivers down your spine and makes your sex even more wet.

Miguel studies you seeing your flushed features, can he sense that you're getting turned on? The answer is yes, “I should have known you were here, your sweet scent tainting the air.” 

Okay, what the hell? You furrow your eyebrows at him “Do I smell? You keep saying that I smell?” 

Miguel lifts an eyebrow at your face still stern but not so much angry “I can smell your arousal pooling in your panties” he grips you tighter “I may not have that little danger alarm like the rest of you but that doesn’t mean my other senses are not heightened. And right now I can smell just how excited you are, was this your plan? Watch me, take my underwear, and get caught? Or is getting caught just a pleasant surprise for you?” 

Miguel lends down whispering in the shell of your ear, his warm breath causing your skin to tingle “And don’t try to deny it” 

Your breath hitches for a moment “I didn't mean to watch it was an accident”

“What about you getting so turned on?” He stares intensely at you, you feel your face flush with embarrassment and clench your thighs together. You are turned on, desperately so. His voice is so sultry, even him bullying you is causing you excitement. Looking into his red eyes his face seems less of rage and more of fascination. 

“I-I couldn't help myself.” 

His hands slowly slide down your arms to your waist, and he buries his head in your neck, smelling you taking you in. The feeling of his breath fanning over your skin makes you think you will instantly melt. Your eyes flutter, closed breath becomes heavy and he rubs his nose slowing up your neck. Finally, he moves away from your neck and looks at your blown-out eyes and flushed cheeks, he smirks, oh you're in danger. 

Miguel suddenly turns you around pressing your chest and face to the wall, his hand grazes your ass before roughly spanking you, causing your hips to buckle forward releasing a high-pitched yelp. His weight leans on you and his knee drives up into your wet cunt, the slight friction makes your head jerk back and clit to tingle. Miguel chuckles and he brings his face into your hair smelling you before reaching and grabbing a handful of hair, pulling slightly. His lips slightly graze your ear as he speaks. 

“You're a bad little slut aren't you?” 

“N-no'm not” 

Another spank smacks across your ass “Oh, I think you are though. Sneaking in here watching me and taking my stuff, good girls don't do that.” He purrs 

He leans more into you and you can feel just how big and hard he is. Miguel's hands find the zipper to your suit slowly zipping it down “Tell me to keep going, tell me how much you want it” 

Pushing yourself from the wall you nod your head, your mind hazy from the desire to be touched more. Forgetting all about pride, forgetting all about the dare, your only thoughts are your desires.

Miguel tsks at you and stops unzipping your suit “Use your words Cariño or I will stop” 

“Yes, I want it! Please!” You whine slightly rubbing yourself on his knee desperate for any kind of friction. 

“What are you bebé?” Releasing the zipper of your suit that now reveals your bare back to him, He swiftly brings a hand to tug your hair, he's going to make you beg and plead, isn't he? Biting your lip you feel him shove his knee further into you, his other hand going to your hip to help guide you as you rub yourself practically riding his knee like a bitch in heat as he continues his torment.  

“Your needly slut! Please just take me Miguel!” 

With that Miguel releases his grip from your hair and hip peeling down your suit revealing your naked body to him, he eyes you for a moment drinking in every curve and dip of your soft skin slowly running his hands down your sides whispering incoherent filth in your ear before he quickly turns you around and scoops you in his arms carrying you to his bedroom. 

He practically kicks his door in tossing you on the bed, before you can get your bearings his hands are on your ankles dragging you closer. He stares intensely at you like a predator about to devour its prey. 

Miguel crawls on top of you, his breath fanning over your lips, he carefully takes his thumb and swipes it over your bottom lip. “Soft…” is all he mutters before he kisses you, softly first then quickly heating up to a sloppy ravenous hunger to taste you. His hands paw all over your body squeezing all over and grabbing handfuls of you desperately. When you break away for air he can't help but  

lick wet stripes on your neck then give you slight nips, his fangs slightly grazing you careful not to break your skin.

He trails down peppering kisses down your heated body, your bra is quickly tossed off of you causing your breast to bounce before him letting out a yelp to the suddenness of his action. Miguel stares for a moment watching your nipples peak, He just smirks and massages them before latching himself to your peaked nipple, first lapping with his tongue before biting with a tug. You moan and whimper at his teasing, playfully biting and licking one as he pinches and pulls the other. 

He travels lower, his eyes staying on your face watching each reaction, he's studying you, he wants to note what every kiss, bite, lick, and tug does to you. When he finally reaches your heated sex he examines your panties, soft blue with a very noticeable dark spot, he rubs his middle finger across your wet panties taking in how your body shakes at his touch and you push yourself into him more. The hard-on in his sweatpants is aching to be released, but he wants to punish you for your perverted behavior.  

“Look at what you have done to your pretty panties princesa, acting like a dirty slut has ruined them” his finger rubs on your clothed clit digging into your folds and ruining your underwear further. You can only moan and plead for him to continue, your cunt aching to be filled with anything, getting impossibly wetter as he continues his teasing. Rocking your hips faster on his finger desperate for friction on your clit, you really are needy. 

 He slaps his hand down on your clothed cunt causing you to jump and moan at the bullying. “No, rushing me princesa” he's making sure to go painfully slow, he wants you to beg for it. 

He slips your panties off slowly, watching your sweetness leak out of you, your needy pussy is clenching around nothing desperate to be filled. You are a rambling mess of pleading and whimpering as Miguel tortures you with his slow lingering touches. Miguel slowly dives his face into your cunt and nose pushing your clit making your body jerk and moan, he takes in your smell getting drunk on your sweet secretion. He lifts his head and leads his head on your thigh “Such a sweet-smelling slut, you know how long you have been teasing me?” 

He starts to run his finger through your slick folds “walking around me all aroused, making me have to smell you without getting to taste you”

He Plunges his finger into you, his large finger going knuckle deep and curling slowly in you, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit making your vision blur from how deep he is. As you wetten he slips in another finger filling you up, your breathing becoming desperate, back starts to arch, and hands flying to your hair. He continues his pursuit moving his fingers around your gummy walls searching for that sweet spot of yours. When it's finally found you're seeing stars and clenching tightly on his fingers, your hands flying down to hold his wrist as he continues to make you ride his hand. Miguel just watches as you approach your high “Do you know what all that teasing does to a man?”

He suddenly pulls away as you are reaching your peak. His fingers are glazed with your wetness. Smiling down at you he puts his wet fingers in his mouth and sucks them clean, eyes never leaving yours. He takes them out of with mouth with a pop “Makes a man hungry Hermosa” 

 You have tears pooling in your eyes being robbed of your orgasm, you start begging him to continue whimpering and flustered as he just watches you beg. 

“You're such a needy little slut huh?” 

 Nodding feverishly you agree to everything that leaves his mouth

“You know? I think I know how to correct your bad behavior”

Standing from the bed he removes his sweatpants, his hard cock flicking up to hit his stomach leaving precum in its wake. Staring intently at you he starts pumping his massive cock throbbing for friction. All you can do is watch him wide-eyed sure you saw it earlier but now it's going to be inside of you. His length and girth are so big you don't even know if it would fit in your tight pussy, but you are aquiver to try, whimpering at his display. 

“We got to fuck it out of you Hermosa, you want that? You want me to fill up and teach you a lesson?” 

You nod and spread your legs wider for him. Miguel slips out a moan, eyeing your spread open sex. All for him, begging for him, he almost can't help himself from immediately thrusting into you.  

“Words?” he says, still pumping himself, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, yes I am bad, teach me a lesson! Fuck me, ah please Miguel!” 

Miguel Grabs your face and laughs at you “No need to beg, such a desperate thing” he shakes his head. Teasing still makes your skin tingle and nipples to perk evermore. Truth be told he loves your begging, he's getting drunk off your eagerness for him. 

He watches as your cunt clenches around nothing begging to be filled. He lines up and slowly rubs his length between your folds gathering your slick before slowly inching in his tip. His cock feels like fire as he slowly stretches you open, heating your soft slick walls. Your hands gripping his shoulders as you try to keep from clenching allowing him to slip in.  

“Mm, that’s right, fit it in Hermosa” 

The initial pain quickly becomes pleasure as he splits you open, heating you slowly going inch by inch stretching you deliciously. Your eyes start to roll in the back of your head and you close your eyes, letting the pleasure take over you. Suddenly Miguel slams his full length into you, filling you instantly and bullying into your cervix, the head of his cock nudging your g spot. The sensation causes your eyes to shoot open, you digging your nails into his shoulders and the air in your lungs to escape you.  

“Keep your eyes open and on me” 

Following his demands you watch him, eyes glaze over as you get cock drunk on his relentless rutting. Miguels just laughs as he rolls his hips back and slams into you again and again forcing you to stretch open and take him in. Usually, he would warm someone up a bit more before he starts fucking them so forcefully, but you've been a little pervert so you need to be taught what happens when you're bad. All you can do is moan and shake as he bullies your tight cunt making it form to his shape.

“That's it, baby, take it”

He continues to rut into you pulling back to the tip before slamming back in, thoroughly fucking you dumb. Eyes crossed and mouth hanging open muttering incoherently. Miguel leans down and kisses you sloppily still fucking you at a brutal pace, taking your jaw and making your mouth open wider he spits in your mouth. 

“Swallow” he demains 

Quickly following his demands you swallow and open your mouth again to show him how obedient you can be to him, you really are like a dog.. 

“Good girl” He rewards you by snaking his hand to your clit and rubbing it in circular motions. 

You are quickly approaching your high toes curling, legs wrapping around Miguel's waist, and hands clawing into his back leaving scratch marks painting all the way down his back. Your walls start to clamp down on him.

“Ah, Mig ah Miguel I'm close, please!” 

 His massive cock abusing your sensitive spot has you seeing stars and pussy creaming all over him, leaving a white ring around his cock finally cumming around him. He continues chasing his release as he helps you ride out your orgasm. His cock continues to fill you pulsating as he reaches his orgasm. The sounds of your wet pussy and the slapping of skin fill the room. His rhythm becomes sloppy and pounding harder into you 

“You hear that? Ah, such a needy pussy. Where do you want it huh? When does my dirty slut want my cum? Her stomach? Ah, Face? Mm inside?” 

“Inside!” You beg, approaching your second high. 

“Oh? Do you want me to fill you up? Such a greedy slut aren't you?”

You begin to see white, his relentless pace making your head empty.

“I said, Aren't you!” he pounds harder, making everything shake and you scream in pleasure. 

“Yes! Im so fucking greedy!” you're practically sobbing at the pace he's set. You think you're going to break as he takes your legs and pushes your knees to your face, making him slip what you thought was impossibly deeper. Miguel angles himself that has you clamping down on him squirting out on his cock.  

With that Miguel stops moving, hips completely flushed with you, his body shakes as he releases his hot thick cum inside of you giving out a moan that vibrates through his wide chest. His hot load warms your insides, mixing in with your release causing you to shudder. Miguel looks down at you and smiles still staying in you, he leans his massive body over you and kisses you while pulling out. The emptiness makes you whine and he quickly goes to look at his handy work. 

He holds your ankles out so you have to be stretched before him, your abused clit red and sensitive, your hole filled with his sperm leaking out. Quickly taking his thumb to the escaping mess he pushes it back into your hole causing you to shake with overstimulation. 

“Mm, Such a pretty mess baby.” 

Miguel gets up and heads to his door, he turns to look at your tired body glowing with sweat. 

“I'm going to get you some water, when I get back you better prepare yourself, I'm not done punishing you.” 

You close your thighs together, his words sending a shiver of anticipation back through you as you bite your lip watching him leave.

 You will have to thank Hobie later for picking this dare. 

Miguel laughs, “So you came here to steal my underwear for a dare?” You look over at him with a smirk admiring his nude body in such a relaxed state and giving that smile you have been so desperately dreaming for. 

Eventually, you told him all about the dare game and how you ended up here. You're searching all over the floor for your underwear in the mess of bedding that found its way to the floor in a messy heap. 

 “Look I am not going to back down from a dare, now where are…”.

Miguel whistles and you look up at him as he's holding up your underwear; you reach to grab them from him but he pulls them back causing you to crash down on his bare chest. His other hand instantly curled around you to hold you to him. Once red eyes now dulling down to a brown as he just holds and smiles at you.

 “Take mine, do what you need to do and I will keep these” He balls up your underwear and holds them in a fist behind his head. 

You give him a suspicious look “Why do you want to hang on to them?” 

Miguel chuckles and looks back at you “To make sure you'll come back”

Later you find Hobie, Quin, and Ben sitting down chatting, you march up to the table and throw the navy blue underwear down on the table. They all look at you stunned at the item of clothing in front of them. Your hair was disheveled, lips red and swollen from being kissed, and cheeks still painted with a bit of blush. Hobie raises an eyebrow and looks you up and down noting your appearance, then he smirks. 

“And what took you so long?”

[gyuwoncheol]

Let Me Love You

Pair: Scoups x f!reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, established relationship, 18+ only (MDNI)

Summary: You just want to shower Cheol with all the love and softness in the world and he’s determined to do the same.

Warnings: sickening fluff, big dick!Cheol, porn with plot, very brief wrist pinning, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), nipple play (f. receiving), allusions to subspace, multiple orgasms, back scratching, grinding, unprotected piv sex (stay safe kids), creampie, bulge kink, begging, swearing, dirty talk, hair pulling, marking, pet names, crying during sex (only cause the dick is so good but not mentioned as a kink), just them being so madly in love. Lmk if i missed smth!

WC: 5.3k

Note: completely self indulgent because i’m down BAD for Cheol. Plus, I really do believe in getting your boyfriend flowers too. I know Cheol would just LOVE it.

“What are these?” Seungcheol started the moment your face appeared on his screen, waving the bouquet in his hands

“Well hello to you too” you greeted, “and those are flowers”

“For?”

“For you, silly” you smiled, leaving a very dumbfounded Seungcheol on Facetime. His brows knitted together even more, eyes questioning your answers and the fact that you’re so nonchalant about it all.

Just 10 minutes ago, one of the staff handed him a buoquet of flowers when they called for lunch break during rehearsals and had told him it was from you

“Ooooh, Coups hyung has floooowersssss” DK had teased, only to call the attention of all 12 boys much to Sungcheol’s chagrin

While Joshua complimented the pretty pink wrapper and yellow ribbon that wrapped around the lilies and carnations, the rest of the boys teased their leader playfully. With Seungkwan even threatening that Cheol might have forgotten an important anniversary date of sorts and this was your way of expressing passive agression.

That was when Seungcheol’s overthinking went into overdrive. He was about 500% sure that wasn’t it, he never forgets milestone dates with you, but then again he had been very busy the past few weeks as they geared up for their Japan comeback. Maybe, just maybe, he did forget something which is why he quickly ran to his studio, flowers in hand and your facetime already on dial, his lunch long forgotten.

“Jagi, i’m being serious here”

You giggled at the sight of your boyfriend’s pout, “I am being serious too! Those are for you, baby. Didn’t you read the card?”

“I did! But is this a prank? Did I do something wrong? I didn’t forget a date, did i? Are you mad at—”

“Woah woah, Cheol, slow down” you interrupted, “i’m not mad. You did nothing wrong. Am i not allowed to simply get my baby some flowers?”

“Uhh… yes??” He responded, the statement sounding more like a question

“Yes, i’m not allowed?”

“Yes— i mean, no..” Seungcheol stuttered, “well, okay but why?!”

“Just because!” You shrugged on screen, highly amused by the confusion written all over your boyfriend’s face

“But baby, i’m supposed to get you flowers, not the other way around” he explained, admittedly feeling a tiny bit emasculated by the fact you got him flowers. He was used to getting flowers when they won awards or attended shows but no one has actually ever given him flowers for him alone

“Hey now! There is no such rule that only boyfriends can give flowers! I personally believe that boyfriends deserve getting flowers too!”

Seungcheol was opening his mouth, about to retaliate when you interrupted him once more, albeit softer this time, “Cheollie, those are for you. From me. I know you’ve been busy and tired lately, so i thought sending you some flowers might brighten up your day… the same way mine always does when you get me some”

He glanced at the buoquet of flowers sitting on his desk and then at you, the sweetest smile on your face and your eyes filled with love and that’s when it really hit him that this truly was a genuine gesture from you. You saw through the screen how a light blush slowly crept on his cheeks, his face shifting from that of confusion to being flustered.

“So… t-they’re really for me?”

“Mhmm.. all yours”

The shyest smile erupted from your boyfriend, the crinkles on his eyes appearing, “i love you baby. Thank you for these.”

Cheol held the flowers close to him, inhaling the sweet scent of lilies and actually giving the flowers a good look this time, noticing that it was actually big enough to cover his face and then some more. He loved the flowers you picked and the foliage accents that came with it, noting that you thought hard about what to put together to suit his liking.

“I love you too, baby. I’m proud of you.” You reminded

If he wasn’t a flustered mess awhile ago, then he surely is now. It’s not every day he gets treated like this, and when he thinks about how most boyfriends don’t actually get treated like this, his heart skips a beat at just how special he feels to have you in his life, simultaneously making a mental note to return the favor and give you all his love too.

“Cheol?” You called out, stepping out of your shoes and dropping your keys by the bowl near the door. It was late but for Seungcheol to be home at this time was still considered early. It was usual for rehearsals these days to stretch into the wee hours of the night.

You cleared your throat again as you stepped into the kitchen where Seungcheol was humming along with the soft r&b music that flowed through the speakers, his attention being occupied by the whole chocolate cake he was pulling out the box

“Jagi!” He exclaimed loudly, arms already opening wide and approaching you for a big hug. Your feet lifted off the ground as Seungcheol effortlessly picked you up and peppered kisses all over your face, reducing you to a giggly mess

“Someone’s in a good mood” you mused as he sat you on the counter with one sweet kiss on your lips and his arms still around your waist, “and you’re home early”

“Mhmm. Told the boys i needed to do some damage control after you sent the flowers”

“Cheol, we’ve been over this, you didn’t do—“

“I know, i know” he squeezed you where his hand rested on your hips, “i just said that to get me out early” a proud grin on his face.

“Babe!”

“What? It’s okay… you know they hate it when i get sulky when we’re fighting. They basically kicked me out of there”

“But that’s a lie! We’re not fighting, and you’re definitely not sulking”

“They don’t need to know that. And it’s okay, we had perfected the dance already” your boyfriend smirked, just happy he finally got some time with you before bed “cmon, there’s lots to do”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like cutting this cake i bought for you” a sheepish smile on his face, “i tried to go get you flowers too but by the time i got there, they were closing down and didn’t have your favorite ones, so i got the next best thing”

You cupped your boyfriend’s cheeks, erasing the pout that formed during his explanation, “my favorite chocolate cake is most definitely the next best thing, and besides, you didn’t even have to get me flowers, honey. Could you please just let the flower giving today be for you? I just want to shower you with random gifts too without you having to do anything back. Just let me love you, pleaaaase?”

With a scrunched nose, Cheol buried his face on your chest, “i don’t knoooow” he whined, “just— just maybe not in front of the boys again? Your gifts make me shy”

The laugh you let out was boisterous and loud and shook the whole of your body, “aww, did the leader get teased by his members today?”

“Yes. And it was NOT fun! Mingyu even got mad at me before i left, told me i needed to learn to say sorry first when we have fights”

You cooed at your boyfriend’s words, always happy to know that his members also had your back whenever they think Seungcheol did something bad to you

“Hey, but isn’t that the same train you rode on to get out of work early today?”

“Yes, but i didn’t want to be teased” he sulked

“Okay, big boy. No more flower deliveries in front of your brothers next time. Now, can we please eat that cake already?”

The treat right next to you was calling your name, it had been your favorite since you were in university and when Seungcheol had quickly discovered that if there was one sure fire way to get your spirits up, it would be a slice of that chocolate cake, he always made sure to get it for you on every celebration and apology. He delicately transfered a massive slice onto a plate before feeding you a forkful of it, a smile on his face watching you devour it as your legs happily swayed from the counter.

This, right here, in this kitchen with you and your cake and him and his flowers is what it’s all about, Seungcheol thought.

“Baby…” your boyfriend started shyly, “will you help me fix my flowers?”

“Of course, my love. How do you want them?”

“In a vase, on my bedside table” he answered without hesitation “so that i can see it right away when i wake up”

“Wow, looks like you haven’t thought this through at all, huh?” You teased, happy to know that the flowers were a successful gift

“You can’t blame me! They’re so pretty!”

A deeper blush painted Cheol’s cheeks, he hated to admit it but he did absolutely love the flowers you got him. To him, it was ultimately the nicest random gesture he’s ever gotten from someone he loved. Now he understood why you— and most girls— loved receiving flowers.

The both of you fell into a comfortable conversation as you arranged his flowers nicely in a vase while he fueled you with never ending forkfuls of cake.

When you had both retired to the bedroom, dishes cleaned in the kitchen and lights turned off, you happily set the vase of flowers on his bedside table like he asked

“Is this okay?”

“Mhmm.. more than okay” Seungcheol’s strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind, “they’re beautiful…” his lips ghosted on your neck as he admired the light colored petals

“You’re beautiful.” He said just slightly above a whisper with a wet open mouthed kiss on your neck

Your breath hitched when you felt him suck at the spot just below your ear, the air in the bedroom suddenly feeling hot and heavy. Sungcheol flattened his wet tongue on the spot to soothe it but only to resume sucking on it again. The repetitive motion surely leaving a bruise on its wake and making you weak on the knees as your hands gripped on his arms around your waist for support

“You like that, baby?” A low growl rumbled through his chest that sent tingles right between your legs

You wanted to say yes but all you could muster was a nod

“Words, baby”

“Yes!” You exhaled in a rush, rubbing your thighs together for reprieve

Your boyfriend squeezed your waist tighter, teasing “want more?”

You eagerly nodded, not one to waste time. Given Cheol’s schedule and your fair share of busy days in the office, it’s been a while since you both had been intimate

“I said, i need words”

“Cheollie, p-please” you whimpered so desperately

Luckily for you, Seungcheol had missed feeling you too and didn’t plan to tease you so much tonight. He pushed you onto the bed, and with way too much force, his hands pulled your dress shirt open, sending buttons flying to different directions

“Cheol!” You shrieked, but he couldn’t care less.

As one hand worked on getting you out of the blouse, his other hand skilfully unhooked your bra, exposing your breasts to him. You saw him lick his lips before hungrily diving in for your left nipple sucking and kissing and biting while his other hand all but traced the area around your right nipple lazily. The contrasting experience your breasts got had you writhing under his weight and clawing at his back to pull his own shirt off him

“Babe!” You called out loudly, snapping Seungcheol out of boobie land, “your shirt! Off! Please!”

A devilish smirk flashed on his face at your demand, he really loved it when you used your words in the bedroom. It had been something he’d taught you to do early on in your relationship when he realised you’d been biting your lips so much just trying to hold back from saying anything. He liked to hear you say what you want and did not want, and he especially loved it when you were being loud.

He reached over at the back of his shirt to pull it off in one swift motion, throwing the white oversized tee to the ground. Your eyes grew larger at the sight of his bare chest but before you could even do anything, his hand had snatched both your wrists and pinned them above your head

“Happy?” He asked, his biceps flexing above you as his eyes turned a few shades darker

“No” was the answer that came out of your mouth that shocked your boyfriend, “i want you to kiss me” you challenged

He didn’t need to be told twice. His lips latching onto yours immediately with fervor, happy to have found that you had already given access for his tongue to explore your mouth. There was no point in fighting for dominance, you were happy to submit yourself to Cheol, happy to just be held and loved by him after a while. With every move he made, the more wetness pooled in your panties, and as you lifted your hips to gain some friction, Seungcheol was quick enough to push your hips back down to the mattress 

"Easy, baby. Don't worry, I got you" he assured, finally giving you a chance to refill on oxygen and tangle your hands in his hair when your wrists were set free

He trailed down your body, covering every inch of your torso with wet open kisses, each second that held him back from where you wanted him just driving you crazy. And he knew this. You knew he knew it too, with the way he stopped right above the hemline of your pencil skirt only to look up to you with the most lust filled eyes 

"Baby, please... I need you right now" 

"Nuh uh" he chastised, his hands working on sliding the zipper down, loosening up your skirt so he could take it off you. "Need to taste you first" He said with another growl that has once again caused wetness to rush in your cunt

In a most lewd act, you stared dumbfounded at your boyfriend who buried his nose on your covered pussy, taking a deep inhale all while his eyes remained on yours, "You smell so fucking good, i can't wait to devour you" 

And devour you, he did. Your panties coming off in record time, his mouth latched onto your clit, sucking like it was the last piece of lollipop on earth. His teeth grazed at the sensitive bud before soothing it with a kiss and a hard suck, something he knew would make your eyes roll back. When you felt his finger travel up your slit, a strangled moan ripped out your throat, making your boyfriend smirk like a mad man. 

"God baby, you're so wet, you'll suck my fingers right in"

You would've disagreed if you didn't just hear the squelch that reverberated in the room when Seungcheol dipped his middle finger in your hole. Barely five pumps in and he thought it enough to already add a second digit, making your back arch off the mattress and tears prick in your eyes. A tight knot in your stomach making itself felt as you smiled, missing the feeling of an oncoming orgasm. 

"Fuck, Cheol!" you said through gritted teeth, the sensation of his fingers massaging your walls and his thick lips tugging at your clit was nothing short of heaven. His long fingers grazing the rough velvety spot inside you was enough to make you see stars

"Babe, I-i.. W-won't last l-long" You warned, the knot on your abdomen coiling as tight as the grip you had on his scalp 

"Hold on a little more, yeah?" your boyfriend requested, a determined look on his face when he looked up at you, a slight sheen on his face, "I Haven't even gotten a full taste yet" 

"THEN HURRY THE FUCK UP, CHEOL!" You screamed, slamming your fists on the bed, making Seungcheol laugh at your frustration 

"YES, MAAM!" he agreed, pulling his fingers out of you to form a perfect salute right before he sucked your juices from his fingers. Your whine at the loss of contact however, had quickly transformed into a moan when his wet tongue dove into your cunt. The slurping sound he produced being the most unholy thing you've heard tonight.

"FUUUUUUCK" You drawled out, shaking helplessly as you fought so hard to hold the orgasm that was begging to explode. You were right there, teetering off the edge.  

But the idiot below you had other plans, detaching his mouth at the exact moment you were ready to fall. A struggled sob racked through you. The knot that was so tight started to feel like it was moving away. 

"Cheooool" You scolded pathetically with a whimper 

"You taste like honey" He declared proudly above your pussy, the widest grin plastered on his face. It would've been innocently cute if he just wasn't glistening with your juices and if he didn't just deprive you of the one thing you've been longing for for weeks now.

"I wanna cum" you sobbed. It was supposed to come out like a bratty demand, but alas, that attitude can only last so long. "Please baby... let me cum" 

Bless Seungcheol's tongue, you thought. Because as quickly as the feeling went away, so did its return. And this time, with twice the intensity. He licked a fat stripe on the expanse of your pussy, stopping to swirl by your clit before diving back down to your hole.

It was when his thumb drew circular motions in sync with his tongue that you truly felt delirious

"Cum for me, baby" He said just above a whisper but it's all you heard. In mere seconds, the dam broke and your orgasm hit you like a wall, knocking the air out of your lungs and blacking your vision.

Your body shook and your thighs trembled, trapping Seungcheol's head in between. You wanted to push him away, fearing the overstimulation that you knew was fast approaching, but you were so far gone, like you had just ran 5 marathons straight. All while he was happily lapping up every single drop you were willing to give. Your orgasm seeming to last wave after wave sending you to a place only Choi Seungcheol could.

"Cheol, what the fuck was that?" You whimpered when your senses started kicking in and his face was now inches from yours 

He hummed at the sex-crazed look on your face, "hmmm. just the best meal of my life" proudly grinning once again before kissing you on the lips

You moaned in agreement, tasting yourself on him, your brain still reeling from the orgasm you just had. Your arms lazily wrapped around his neck, deepening the kiss when you started to feel the sensation of your limbs again. Admittedly, you were exhausted to your very core, but when you felt your boyfriend's painfully hard cock against your thigh, it's like your body willed itself to reenergize. 

Seungcheol felt your fingernails trace his spine, his jaw going slack at the sensation, allowing you enough chance to have your tongue explore his mouth. He loved it when you scratched and traced his back. And he surely loved kissing you. As morbid as it was, he always said that he could immediately die after making out with you and he would die a happy man. So lost in the feel of your mouth on his, he slightly jumped when he felt you palm his cock through his sweats. 

"Babe" he reprimanded, creating a small space between your bodies

"Cheollie" you whined, "you haven't— you haven't even..."

He chuckled incredulously at your words, surprised you still had it in you to go another round after he surely witnessed you cross another dimension from a long overdue orgasm, "Baby, it's okay. You're exhausted, and I can take care of this myself. Just want to make you feel good…. Jus’ wanna love you"

"Then do it" You replied breathlessly, "Make love to me, Cheol" 

Your bedroom smelled of sex but when Choi Seungcheol looked at you, your eyes big and doey, full of love more than lust, the brightest smile grew on his face, his cheeks almost hurting. He couldn't even mask it if he wanted to. It's like time had momentarily stopped for him as you laid there bare against his body, caged in between his arms, face inches just away from yours that he could feel your every breath tickle his lips. His heart was exploding with so much love and care and happiness that he could hear his own heartbeat sync with yours. Make no mistake: your bedroom smelled of sex, but in that moment, there was nothing but pure love in that room. 

"y/n, are you sure?" He asked one more time, cupping your cheek to make sure you were back to reality and you would answer him consciously.

You nodded softly at his words, your own hand coming to hold his, "Yes, I need you to make love to me, Cheol" you repeated loud and clear and with conviction, your hands pulling at the material of his sweatpants to get it off him

Seriously, his cheeks were hurting from smiling too much as he helped you get himself out of his boxers next. Your mouth immediately salivating at the sight of his dick slapping hard against his stomach. His tip was an angry shade of red, leaking with precum and god you just wanted so badly to suck him off. But that would be reserved for another time, maybe in the morning, you thought. 

"I love you, baby" were the words that came out of his mouth when he once again lay atop of you, grinding his cock on your pussy to coat it with your slick 

"i love you, too" You said with a whince when you felt his tip breach your entrance. 

"Breathe, jagi. Breathe." Seungcheol reminded you as he slowly entered you with every inch. Sure he had just given you the best foreplay of your life, but he knew himself that his fingers were only a fraction to the size of him. He especially knew that it had been awhile since you both had sex so the initial pain was definitely to be felt. His eyes were trained on your face and he noticed every sharp inhale, every shudder and whince, and every lip bite you did as you patiently took on his hard cock, knowing that soon enough the pain would turn into immeasurable pleasure. Seungcheol was breathing loudly as he continued pushing in slowly, hoping to get your breath to sync with his. 

"Doing so good for me, jagi" he whispered repetitively into your ears. 

When he finally bottomed out, he stayed completely still for you, feeling your nails claw at his back as if finding something to ground yourself onto 

"I'm right here, y/n. Right here." He reminded you with a call of your name, resting his chin on the crook of your neck which ought to do the trick for you. You were lucky enough to have your boyfriend know you like the back of his hand. It's what made sex with him always so intimate and sacred despite the very dirty things he was actually doing to you. 

"Cheollie, please move" You whimpered when you couldn't take the stillness anymore

Your boyfriend grinded on you to make sure of your request and when you moaned out his name in pleasure, he was assured you had asked him correctly. Seungcheol withdrew his full length, leaving just the tip of his cock inside you before slamming back in. The motion alone sending you higher on the mattress which made him grunt at the sight. 

"Fuck baby, you're so fucking tight" He groaned, the feeling of your walls fluttering on his cock just sending him into a craze of thrusting in and out of you 

You could feel every vein on his cock, as he pumped continuously. His balls slapping against your skin just adding to the lewd noises that your pussy was making as it took in all of your boyfriend's girthy length. 

He dipped his head low and captured your right nipple on his mouth during one particular thrust of his cock and the overwhelming feeling had your back arching off the mattress for the nth time that night, tears once again pricking your eyes at how good everything just felt

"B-babe.." you struggled to form words, "Ha..Hard—harder please!" You rushed out 

He was done teasing you awhile ago, now, he was going to make love to you like you so politely asked.

"what my baby wants, my baby gets" Seungcheol said assuringly, like he was rallying a battalion of soldiers. In one swift motion, he hooked your right leg on his shoulders and thrusted in you so deep, a string of profanities leaving your mouth as your second orgasm washed over you without so much as a warning. You were rendered so speechless that your boyfriend couldn't help but chuckle

"Fucking you so good, you can't even tell when you're cumming huh?" He said with a cocky smirk on his face, completely driving you insane. 

You wanted to form words, tell him how good he was, how good you felt, how you wanted to stop to process what just happened, but also needed more, but all your brain could do was form incoherent noises. This only prodded Cheol to grind his body on yours, leaving open mouthed kisses on your face and lips as you tried to make sense of that orgasm that came out of nowhere

“You like this baby? Like my cock inside your tight pussy?“ he continued, reveling at the fact that he had just made you cum for the second time that night

Your boyfriend hooked your other leg on his shoulder to effectively fold you in half with every thrust, hitting you so deep that you could feel him in your cervix.

"Cmon baby, one more yeah?" He asked with a deep groan.You couldn't even deny him of his favor, not when the new angle he's put you on already had another orgasm forming in your stomach so quickly.

He would deliciously shift between thrusting and grinding, you simply thanked the heavens you had a boyfriend who knew how to move his body so well. 

You experimentingly pressed your hand on the bulge that formed on your stomach where his cock would hit and in a flash, Seungcheol felt his own orgasm hot in his heels. He was so focused in making you feel good tonight that he forgot just how much he needed to cum too. The sight of him so deep in you, your boobs bouncing with every thrust, it was the perfect recipe to just drive him off the edge. 

"Babe— Baby... I won't last..." He tried to say, his attention focusing on hitting your gspot with every thrust to get you there with him 

"I- I know babe" you confirmed, not a stranger to the way his hips would stutter and his left brow would rise when he was about to come undone

You tightened your hold on him, your pussy sucking him in so tight making it harder for him to withdraw. He loved feeling your hole spasm. You brought him down to you by the neck, your mouth latching onto his collar bone to suck intently, willing it to turn purple by tomorrow. Cheol whimpered at the sensation, feeling delirious himself. 

"Babe—" 

"Cum in me, Cheollie" you interrupted him, "Give me all your love" 

Like magic words, Seungcheol came undone, his warm seed painting your walls white as he panted for air. His orgasm lasted so long that it set off your third one. Your cum mixed together as you both trembled from your own highs, whispering sweet nothings to each other. 

When he felt his toes finally uncurl, he collapsed onto the bed but not without rolling you on top of him so that he was still inside you. You could already feel your mixed sticky cum slowly leak out your pussy and onto his thighs but you couldn’t bother for now. You just wanted to stay close to Cheol as much as possible, ghosting your lips at the expanse of his chest, leaving lovebites in your wake.

After sex cuddles with your boyfriend was always like getting your favorite dessert after a hearty meal. And you knew this one would be extra special, especially after having such an intimate time together after so long. Not to mention the precious after care Seungcheol would shower you with in a few minutes. 

"I love you, jagi" you said, using the nickname he uses for you on him and adoring the happiness that adorned your boyfriend's face

His eyes smiled at you, holding you tight against his chest, "I love you too, baby" 

A cold bed was not what you expected to wake up to after the night you just had with your boyfriend, but it seems that at 6:32am, when you finally shut off your alarm, and decided to open your eyes, it was what you were greeted with. Cheol wasn't in his spot. You groaned audibly, annoyed at the fact that you woke up alone, but moreso because everything just felt sore down there. You knew Cheol hadn't left for work yet, his phone was still on his bedside table.

Speaking of the bedside table, it looked awfully empty and that's when it hit you: His vase of flowers were gone. Did he suddenly hit them and break the vase? Surely, you would've heard it shatter to the floor if that was the case. The sudden curiosity in your mind was enough to get you out of bed, albeit, wincing at every step you took down the stairs.

"Baby?" you called out when you heard Cheol's distant humming 

"Kitchen, my love" 

You caught him redhanded as you entered the kitchen, half of his flowers outside the vase while he tried to rearrange the other half that's left in it. A sheepish smile on his face, "Good morning" 

"Hmm... morning" You grumbled, immediately gravitating to his side to get some warmth, your face burrowing on his chest, "I wanted to wake up beside you" you complained 

"Sorry, baby. I just got used to leaving so early for work" 

"But you don't start until later at 9am you said. So why didn't you stay in bed?" You countered, not even caring that you were now full on whining like a kid throwing a tantrum 

Your boyfriend felt bad but not as much as he was enjoying your little fit 

"Sorry, baby" He said again, turning you to face him while he cupped your cheeks with his large hands, leaving a quick peck on your forehead "it's just that when i woke up the first thing i saw were your flowers— my flowers. And then I looked at you and I was just so happy, I can't even explain it. Like nothing could ruin my day. So I took the vase cause I want to transfer some of them. I'll leave half of them on my bedside table, and the other half i'll put in another vase I can bring to work and place in my studio. That way, i'll be reminded of you… and then work won't feel so gloomy after all" he grinned, more than proud of his wonderful idea.

With the way Seungcheol enthusiastically explained his plan, you couldn't be mad. It tugged at your heart strings how happy the simple gesture of gifting him flowers was. You pinched his cheeks softly, endeared at the handsome, happy face smiling back at you. "I love you, Cheol" 

If every night ended up like last night and your boyfriend was this excited every day he got flowers, you made a mental note to make a subscription at the flower shop for flowers delivered especially for Choi Seungcheol.

[whinelo]

Okay but hear me out.

What if... X's signifact other/spouse/whatever is convenient for the prompt adopted Cyan?

Imagine instead of X dropping a coin for her, it's reader who runs into the small child and decides to adopt her.

I mean look at her! She was crying, her socks were ripped and she had no shoes! Clearly an abandoned child begging to be adopted.

Cue X returning late from work, wanting nothing more than to cuddle reader instead of dinner, and then freezes at the sight of reader feeding Cyan who's happily eating away. (poor baby, feed the child!)

Ah, he knew he'd forgotten something.

X: Hey honey, what'cha got there?

Reader: (brushes Cyan's hair out of her face) Dinner! 😊

A/N : This request was an absolute darling for me, it's honestly yes-- I love it so much! I'll be posting more requests later on this night ( sleep? What is that word? ), so y'know if you guys are reading this ( probably not ) Don't feel shy to send me asks/requests, the creativity- fluff, angst, and possibly more ( ohoho ) these ideas are so wonderful, and I hope that my writing does your guy's ideas justice-- And I'm glad to have the honor of turning these ideas into reality ! <3 without further ado,

CHARACTERS | X ( Bai Xizhuang ),Lucky Cyan ( Cyan ), Reader ( You )

SYNOPSIS | The parental instincts took over you and now you ( unofficially ) adopted a child from the street.

INCLUDES | Found family, fluff, X is the director and forgot about the plot, silliness and whimsy.

Who knew having to meet up with an old acquaintance was incredibly draining? You did. You were drained and incredibly tired, honestly— Maybe you shouldn’t have come here at all, it was dark— it was cold and you were hungry, and heavens knew how much your husband would panic the moment he couldn’t find you at home- you held in a laugh at the silly image you conjured in your mind as you wandered around the empty street.

Running a hand through your hair, a soft sigh escaped your lips— looking over to your wrist, the watch on it automatically turned on and read [ 7:57 P.M ] ‘How early, why’s everything closed already?’ You grumbled hoping to find at least some sort of food to ease your need for sustenance, turning your head from left to right— Until,

“ ♪ Sometimes things may be so tough,

feels like everything’s enough,

but you can’t overcome it,

choose your own gift ♪ “

Turning to another street, you looked around immediately the moment sound hit your ears— And soon enough, the source of the music came from a girl, sitting on the wall- Guitar in hand, sparks of cyan light glowed around the area- surrounding it in its hue, you stopped walking- silently watching the performance; fingers drumming along to the beat as you softly smiled.

‘Wait a second were you intruding on a main character moment— Wait is this why the streets were so empty, oh.. Oh okay. Yeah, okay.’ The thought came into your mind like an intrusive vermin, and then it clicked- the gears and cogs have clicked and a neuron in your brain has been connected— Yeah you were totally intruding on a main character moment, damn.

Now that you think about isn’t this the same situation where some girl sings ‘Fight Song’ on some roof? Shaking your head you quickly turned to look at the girl once more ( although she hadn’t noticed your presence yet, which.. was good to say the least. ) Upon further examination however.. Wait was she crying? Ripped leggings.. and no shoes! Who’s child was this— and why are they out on the streets!?

Mentally gasping— You knew what you had to do— Adopt- Ahem, talk to the child and ask if they have any— what if they’re an orphan? No- no, okay.. Think [ Name ] think!- You used to babysit children.. Right- right! Oh, she looks hungry.. Taking in a breath of determination, you marched on over to the small cyan haired child. Crouching over to her level-

Softly lowering your voice, “ Hey.. Are you alright? You shouldn’t be at places like this alone.. “ Was that welcoming enough? Ugh, hopefully you didn’t sound like a kidnapper- or worse, a creep. You awaited her reaction, and watched as she visibly flinched away from you, shit- did you blew it already?

“ It’s okay, I won’t hurt you- I promise. “ Quickly trying to reassure the child, your eyes softening as you lowered yourself to the ground- scooting away a few more inches so as to not scare her any further.

Looking up at you, “ ..Who are you? “ Mystery child asked, voice full of wary and unease- she held on tightly to her guitar, as if it was the most precious thing to her at this moment; and judging by her behavior, maybe it was- an item that carried value far beyond monetary reason.

Answering her question, “ Just call me [ Name ], now.. are you alright? “ Watching as she looked down, it felt as if tears were about to spill any second from her eyes, she shook her head in ‘no’- trembling, as her lips quivered— A few more seconds passed, and as she was about to answer, you quickly intercepted.

“ It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me anything— It must’ve been hard for you, hasn’t it? “ Slowly reaching your hand out to pat her head, doing an up-and-down motion— And thankfully, this time she didn’t flinch- neither did she push you away, in which you were glad for; inching a bit closer to her,

Tilting your head to the side, “ What’s your name? “ you asked.

It was brief pause- unnoticeable to maybe the average person, but you weren’t- “ .. Cyan.. “ As if hesitant to even say her own name, but nonetheless she still gave you an answer.

Hearing her name, “ Cyan.. “ you hummed, fingers softly treading through her ( un-coincidentally ) cyan threads of hair, you then continued with, “ Do you have anywhere to stay for the night? “ You questioned, hoping that she did actually have a place to rest for the night and if not-

“ .. I don’t. “ Cyan answered, once more looking down sadness enveloping her features— eyes now brimming with ready-to-spill tears, gently pulling her closer to your body as you let sob into your shoulder; Minutes passed and the both of you stayed like that, in quiet- serene peace- Her hiccups died down, as she peeled herself off from you- her face flushed red, as Cyan regained her composure.

Okay so you adopt this child right now, give them a home— and love Cyan unconditionally—

Putting your pointer finger to your bottom lip, “ I see.. Well, if you don’t mind— I have a place a town over, and you can stay with me for the night! “ You cheerfully suggested, removing your hand from her— as you clasped it with the other, in shock- she shook her head once more,

“ No-no! I can’t possibly do that.. “ Cyan quickly rejected, her eyes wide as saucers at the sudden suggestion.

Taking her words into account, you hummed. “ And I can’t leave you out here, tell you what— Think of it as a debt of some sort, you’ll be owing me something- And when the time comes that you can repay me, think of it as debt being payed.. Would that ease your mind? “ In truth you really didn’t wanna do this kind of stuff with a child, you mean- for heavens sake that’s a child— Actually thinking of making her repay for something she deserved to have, ( i.e a roof over her head, food, and water. ) would make you a monster.

Cyan deserved a home, and you’re willing to give her one— and though she might not stay for long, at least— Getting her back on her own feet would give you some peace of mind.

Cyan mulled over your words, before looking back up at you— staring directly into your eyes, “ ..Alright! “ Giving her a grin, you pulled yourself off the ground before offering your hand out for hers to reach- Cyan took it and pulled herself up,

The both of you walked around the town, exchanging words— as you skillfully ( not really, you used google maps ) to locate the nearest station in this area, “ The commute might take.. An hour or so, so why don’t we get you a pair of shoes and— us, a snack? “ It wasn’t a suggestion you were actually going to do it, it’s your wallet and money anyway.

Cyan then brought her hands up, shaking it vigorously- in unison with her head, “ [ Name ]- It’s fine, I swear! You don’t have to—” She vehemently denied,

“ Ah— ssh, ssh! I don’t mind anyway, “ Grinning as you pulled her towards an open shop,

—

X hated overtime, even if it was payed overtime— he still hated it. ( Simply because it meant more hours away from you, the love of his life— The center of his universe, the reason as to why he hasn’t died of diabetes yet. )

But it was now over, his freedom has come at last- embracing him like how water would to a person dying of dehydration in a desert— Speaking of desert, maybe he should buy you a dessert, though maybe he shouldn’t.. Recalling how you scolded him for his ‘overdose’ of sugar a few days ago, in his defense this time— it’s for you anyway, not for him.

Passing by a dessert shop on the way, he knew that with a snap of his finger he could’ve been home in an instant; But with you in his life, he found pleasure in walking around the city— walking pass shops that may pique your interest, and hopefully get you to dote on him more.

And within the corner of his eye— A pastry shop, great. Skipping ( not actually ) over to it, briefcase swinging from side to side. ( Incredibly exaggerated this was how X felt, not what he actually did. ) He entered the establishment with a goal in mind, ‘Make [ Name ] happy,’ The bell rung as he stepped foot inside, walking closer to the display.

And the only dessert that was available were three donuts— One strawberry, decorated with rainbow sprinkles; One the color mint although oddly flavored chocolate, with clover decorations; and the last, bavarian flavored with pearl decorations—

He then bought it all out.

The store clerk gave him a ‘thank you’, and he took the paper bag— Left the place, and teleported back home.

Oh how he missed you, how he wanted to breath in your scent- and why does it feel as if he forgot something..? Something.. cyan.. Pushing the thought back into the depths of his mind, he was now faced with the door of your home— Getting his keys from his pockets and inserting it into the door knob.

The feeling as if he forgot something important was now gnawing at him, but he doesn’t care! His lover is at the other side of the door and the moment X snuggles into your arms, yes.

“ [ Name ]! I’m home! “ He called out, taking off his shoes as he entered your shared home.

Now something felt really wrong, really- wrong.

Dropping his briefcase at the living room- the sweet aroma of freshly cooked dinner wafted into the home, and entered X’s nostrils— Perfect timing, as he walked into the kitchen.. He froze.

X stiffened the moment his eyes landed on you— and Cyan happily talking at the dinner table, you seemed to notice his presence right away- “ Oh sweetheart! There you are, come- come, “ You ushered him into the table, simultaneously brushing off a loose strand of hair on Cyan’s face.

“ Hey honey, what'cha got there..? “ He nervously voiced out, you then turned to look at him before answering- “ Dinner! “

Now he remembers.

He fucking forgot Cyan.

[colonelarr0w]

Heyy 💜

I read that you are accepting requests so I came here to ask for one with Nanami but he as a teenager (because I've been in love with him since that time lol) would like to see his first time, a cute smut at first because he seemed to be so inexperienced and introverted but later he could have a kinky side 🥴

Sypnosis - Read above request.

Warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, smut, Gojo being nosy asf

A/N - I do plan to make a part 2 to this piece, so I decided to focus on Reader for this piece and then Nanami in the second one. It'll make more sense once y'all read it, I promise.

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

For the six months that you and Nanami had been together, the farthest that you two got in terms of intimacy was heated make outs and rough grinding – both of which were done with about as much grace as a baby cow trying to ice skate.  

That didn't mean that either of you wanted to take it further, it was just that neither of you really knew how.  

And what didn't make any of this better? 

Satoru Gojo constantly being up Nanami's ass about it. 

"While I appreciate your input-" 

"If you 'appreciated' my input," Gojo lifts his fingers and mocks making air quotes, "then you would take my advice and – y'know – not be a virgin anymore." 

Nanami's eye twitches in fury, eyebrows pinched together as the snowy-haired male shrugs his shoulders, rolling his eyes with the most 'I-said-so' expression that he had ever seen on another human being.  

"Your advice is about as helpful as a fanfiction written by a middle school girl," Geto is quick to chime in, throwing an arm over Gojo's shoulder and patting his palm against his friend's chest. Gojo scoffs, jaw dropping open as he turns his head to glare daggers into Geto.  

"Excuse me, my advice is-" 

"Hi Ken! Hi everyone!" Your happy voice is what effectively kills the growing argument, bright smile infecting the group in front of you – all of them turn to return your greeting. Nanami's smile is much more toned down than the others, but that doesn't mean nobody fails to notice the way his lips quirk upward the moment your lips come into contact with his cheek.  

"Hello," Nanami is the first to respond, eyes softening at you as you pull away and wave to greet the others. Gojo glances at Nanami, sending him a knowing glance that is shrugged off by the blonde. "I thought you were busy training today?" 

"Nope! Yaga gave me the rest of the afternoon off, so I figured I'd come by and grab you," you say with a grin on your face, lifting a hand to affectionately pat his cheek. "I went out shopping yesterday and got snacks and a movie." 

Nanami finds himself smiling again, completely ignoring the existence of those around him, eyes focused on you like a lovesick puppy. He squeezes the hand that rests on his face, nodding his head at the request.  

"What movie did you pick out?" Nanami asks innocently – his tone of voice makes Gojo snicker. You glance curiously at the third-year, who only turns swiftly away from you and whistles as if he had done nothing.  

"Just some cheesy rom-com," you answer just as innocently, smiling again at your boyfriend. Nanami glances quickly at Gojo, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Gojo's curled lips – he was grinning like the damn Cheshire Cat.  

"It sounds nice. Would you like to watch it now?" 

You nod eagerly, already reaching for your boyfriend's hand. He allows your fingers to slip into his own, feeling himself chuckle as you squeeze happily at them. You bid the rest of the group farewell, waving politely to them before turning in the direction of the student dormitories. 

Nanami glances over his shoulder at the group as you both depart, feeling his cheeks heat at the hand gestures that Gojo throws up. That little- 

< … > 

"Ken," you breathe into his mouth, arms wound around his neck as your lips move against his own. The movie is still playing in the background, but its plot is entirely forgotten – not that either of you minded in the slightest.  

His hands grip at your hips, moving them across his own and swallowing your moans. You pull back from him to catch your breath, whining lightly as you grind your hips against his own. Nanami smirks to himself, leaning forward to lightly kiss at your neck, relishing in the way you try (and fail) to hold back moans.  

"What is it?" Nanami asks quietly, perking an eyebrow at you as your movements against him still. You glance at him, eyes lust-blown and your cheeks reddened with lust. He already knows what it is that you want – but he would be lying if he said that he wasn't a nervous wreck. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing. 

"I – why don't we – you know," you whisper nervously, your hands on Nanami's shoulders to keep yourself grounded. He tilts his head at you, urging you to continue speaking. He doesn't quite know why, but he wants to hear you say it – he wants you to verbalize exactly what it was that you wanted.  

"Why don't we what?"  

"C'mon Ken," you whine, moving your hips against his once. He grits his teeth, suppressing the moan that climbs up his throat at the drag of your hips against his own. You smirk at the reaction you pull from him, leaning forward so that your lips just barely ghost against his. "You know." 

Nanami glances up at you, swallowing his nervousness and leaning forward again, attaching his lips to your neck and kissing the skin there. You exhale shakily, nails biting into his shoulders as you rock against him again. 

"Are you sure?" Nanami mutters against your neck, his breath fanning over your skin and making you shiver in the best way possible.  

"I'm sure." 

Nanami continues to place featherlight kisses against your neck, hands moving your hips back and forth against his own, craving that friction that you had provided. You don't protest, allowing him to move you while he sucks a dark purple hickey into your neck – one that you would definitely have trouble hiding in the morning.  

Hesitantly, his hands travel upwards, one hand cupping over your clothed breast and giving it an apprehensive squeeze. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, eyes flickering up to meet his own as he gives you a look that asks 'is this okay'.  

You nod again at him, urging him to keep going.  

Nanami's hands return to your hips, where he then guides you off of his lap and lays you down flat on the couch, hovering over you. His lips connect with yours in a hungry kiss, lips moving in sync with your own. His hands wander, squeezing and groping your tits. 

You moan quietly into his mouth, tangling your hands in his hair and mussing his bangs. He smirks against your lips, hungrily swallowing your moans. His hands continue their assault, thumbs experimentally flicking over your nipples through your shirt. 

That pulls a particularly loud whine from you – one that Nanami immediately wants to hear again.  

Hesitantly, Nanami begins to lift your shirt, getting it rolled up to your stomach before you wiggle the rest of the way out, throwing the clothing across the room. He leans down to kiss you again, his hands working to quickly unclasp your bra and discard that as well.  

The moment that your tits spill out over your chest, Nanami flicks his thumb against one of your nipples, relishing the whine that you let out. Your back arches from the couch, body not quite used to the sensation that Nanami had been the source of.  

"Ken," you moan out, raising a hand to tilt his head so that his gaze meets yours. He nearly cums in his pants at the expression you wear – lust-blown pupils and slightly swollen lips from the force at which he had kissed them.  

He exhales, leaning his head down and dragging his tongue down the valley of your breasts, eyes occasionally flickering up to you just in case you wanted him to stop. Your hands tangle in his hair, fingernails scraping along his scalp – you truly didn't want him to stop. Not that he was opposed. 

He turns, bringing one nipple into his mouth and hesitantly running his tongue over it. Your back arches, lips parting to release a choked-out moan as he swirls the tip of his tongue over your hardened nipple.  

“Ken,” you whine out again, glancing down your body at him and panting as you wait in anticipation. His hands hook underneath the waistband of your pants, helping you shimmy out of them with a small smirk plastered onto his face.  

“What is it?” he whispers, his hands holding your hips with his thumbs rubbing soft circles into the supple flesh. He squeezes them lovingly, earning a whine from you. “You’ll have to tell me.” 

“C’mon Kento, stop teasing,” you whine, bucking your hips upward and chasing the pleasure that his hands had been giving you up until that point. He smirks, leaning down to kiss your pussy over your panties — the feeling making you squirm in anticipation.  

“I just want to make sure you’re comfortable,” Nanami answers honestly, kissing your pussy again before his eyes flicker up to meet yours, taking a mental note of the expression of lust that occupies your face.  

"I am," you whisper in response, moving your hips upward again in a silent plea for him to continue. Nanami hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and biting back a breathy chuckle at the way you eagerly help him in removing the article of clothing.  

He runs a finger down your glistening folds, your body stuttering at the touch and a broken moan falling from your lips. He lifts his hand for a moment, twisting his wrist so that the pad of his thumb rubs circles into your clit – the action sends sparks up your spine.  

You whine out at the contact, lifting your hips to drag your clit along his finger. In response, he continues to rub circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves, feeling his cock strain in his pants at the sound of your whines and moans.  

Hesitantly, Nanami leans in, tentatively flicking his tongue against your clit. Your body jolts forward, hands tangling in his hair. You tug him closer to your pussy, letting out a panted breath as he presses a featherlight kiss against your clit.  

He remains between your legs for what feels like hours – even though it had to have been only fifteen minutes at most. He licks, sucks, and drags his tongue flat against your pussy, eager to pull those sweet sounds from your throat.  

"Ken...fuck...I'm cumming!" Your voice raises in pitch as your back arches off of the couch, chest stuttering as the knot in your stomach – which had been building up slowly – snaps completely. Nanami continues his assault on your pussy, desperate to feel you cum against him.  

He sucks your clit between his lips, that being enough to send you over the edge. Your hips buck up into him, small shocks sent through your entire body as you lay back down against the couch, panting and trying to catch your breath. 

Nanami rises from his spot between your legs, dragging the back of his knuckles against his lips as he stares through half-lidded eyes to admire your fucked out expression. Soft pants fall from your parted lips, a small line of drool dribbling down your chin — which he swipes his thumb against. 

“Are you alright?” he asks softly, smiling as your eyes focus on him again. Your own lips quirk upward, eyes crinkling at the corners.  

"Better than alright," you answer honestly, panting slightly as you prop yourself up on your elbows, gazing down at Nanami through half-lidded eyes.  

He finds himself smiling at your exhaustion, crawling up to you and softly pressing his lips to yours. You moan quietly against his lips, your fingers weaving into his golden locks and tugging lightly. He pulls back to admire you again, both of you staring at the other in comfortable silence.  

"I think that's enough for you," he whispers. You shake your head at him, though your eyes betray you, slowly blinking at him and biting back the yawn that threatens to escape your lips. "Yes. Come now, don't worry about me, you're exhausted." 

"I'm not," you weakly protest, leaning your forehead against Nanami's. He chuckles at you, bringing you into his arms and tucking your face into the crook of his neck. "Kento." 

"Hush," he shushes you, squeezing you. You sigh, allowing your heavy eyes to fall shut, body curling closer to his and absorbing the warmth that he radiates. "There's always next time," he promises. You hum in response.  

Yeah, there was always next time. 

[gamesetattach]

Five in a Row

Jannik Sinner x Reader Jannik has a not so little challenge for reader... and you already know she's down. And they get right to business, back to back to back to back to back ... Warnings include... basically no plot only unrealistic smut tbh, female-bodied reader, oral, fingering, female receiving, over-stimulation

---

Stretched out on the hotel bed, you laid in one of Jannik’s old tournament shirts with your legs tangled in the covers, idly flipping through your book. He had just come out of the shower, towel slung low on his hips, hair damp and curling at the ends. He caught your eye as he passed by the foot of the bed, and without even thinking, you let your gaze drop and linger.

He caught it. Of course he did.

“What?” he said, a knowing smirk tugging at his mouth as he dropped the towel and reached for a pair of briefs.

"Nothing” You shrugged, smug. “Just thinking you’ve been acting a little cocky lately."

"Cocky?" He shot you a look. “Me?”

"Yeah," you said, leaning into the bit, you set your book down open-faced to really look at him. "Winning matches—What is it? Like five in a row now? In this tournament alone? I worry pretty soon you might walk around like you own the place."

Laughing, he crossed back over to the bed, still shirtless, and braced one knee on the mattress beside you, setting your book off to the side.  "Like I own the place?"

You nodded solemnly, but tilted your head back for him as he leaned in closer.

"I think you’ve got it all wrong," he murmured, brushing your hair off your neck, "I have good reason to be so confident. I’ve had you with me all week."

You lifted a brow. "So this is about me?"

"Everything is about you."

It should’ve sounded cheesy, and it might have made you laugh in any other context, but from Jannik—warm and understated, said as his fingers trailed lightly up the side of your thigh—it made your breath hitch.

You curled your legs under you as he shifted to hover above you, pressing a kiss just below your jaw.

"I’ve been thinking," he murmured into your skin, voice low and edged with amusement. "I wonder what my winning streak with you would look like?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You laughed a little at his obscurity, and reached behind his head to bury your fingers in his hair.

He took a second to answer, kissing you long and deep before he did. “I want to see how many times I can make you come tonight."

You scoffed a laugh, it dissolved into a shiver as his mouth moved lower, but you managed to scarf out a little quip anyways. "You’re talking big, Sinner."

"I mean it," he said, already moving like he planned to prove it.

You looked up at him through your lower lashes. "What? Should I take this as a challenge?"

“Maybe,” he smiled against your collarbone. "If that’ll help you keep up."

The heat building so quickly made you squirm a little, but you chuckled despite yourself. “Well, I don’t know the rules here, but I’m going to win.”

And just like that, your book long-forgotten on the nightstand, your body was arching into his touch as the teasing melted into something deeper, steadier—something intentional, and driven.

---

The first time was unhurried—familiar in the way he touched you, each brush of his fingers was part of a blueprint he already knew by heart. He began by easing your thighs apart, settling between them with a kind of reverence that never stopped making you feel undone. His hands gripped just beneath your knees, holding you open, steady, as he leaned in to kiss the soft skin at the top of your thigh.

His mouth was warm and slow, trailing slowly from one leg to the other, then up—closer. When his lips finally met you fully, you gasped, back arching just slightly, the heat of his tongue and the slow pressure of his mouth sending sparks up your spine. He knew just how you liked it—how to circle just right, when to press firm, when to pull back and let the absence drive you wild.

Your fingers found the edge of the sheets, gripping hard, and your breath turned stuttered, uneven. He glanced up at you briefly, eyes dark and focused, before settling back in with renewed purpose. One hand slid up to hold your stomach gently in place, while the other traced your hip, grounding you as your thighs began to tremble.

When he lowered that hand to slip two fingers inside you, soft and sure, curling just slightly as he moved in rhythm with his mouth, the moan that escaped you was sharp and sudden. He hummed and adjusted instinctively, drawing another sound from your lips. Your heels pressed into the mattress, your hips chasing more, and he gave it—gave all of it, murmuring softly between strokes, coaxing you closer.

The tension built fast, coiled tight inside you until your whole body strained against the pressure. And when it snapped—steep and fast—he didn’t stop. He rode the wave with you, his hands holding you together and apart all at once, his mouth slowing only as your cries faded into broken sighs.

He kissed the inside of your thigh again, more of a peck this time, his hands gentle as they released their grip. You felt his breath against your skin, steady and dutiful, like he needed a moment too.

The second came quicker—less careful, more heated. You were still catching your breath when he moved up your body, coaxing your legs around his waist, his skin warm and slick against yours. His hands were everywhere—anchored behind your knees, tracing your ribs, smoothing over the arch of your back as he pressed closer.

He kissed you like that was all he needed—mouth hot, tongue slow, teeth catching your bottom lip just enough to make your hips buck in response. You clutched at his shoulders, grounding yourself in the pull of his body against yours, the way he filled every space you gave him.

When he finally sank into you, you both stilled. Your breath caught—his did too. His forehead rested against yours for a long moment, one of his hands sliding beneath the back of your knee, lifting your leg just slightly to shift the angle. You gasped when he moved again, a rough exhale escaping him at the sound.

"Too much?" he murmured, but he didn’t need the answer—not when your hips rolled to meet his, not when your nails dug into the planes of his back like you were trying to hold the moment in place.

He found a rhythm quickly—deeper now, surer. Every thrust was a full-body motion, his hands adjusting to where you needed him most, holding you open and close. The wet slide of skin, the way he groaned low every time your walls clenched around him, the soft, desperate sounds you couldn’t suppress—they filled the room so thick that even the whole world seemed to just narrow to the two of you.

The wave crested faster this time. When your body arched again, chasing friction, he met you there without hesitation. So it crashed through you before you could warn him, your body bracing tight, head thrown back, another unrestrained cry slipping out. He didn’t slow—he held you through it, one hand tangled in yours by your head, the other gripping your waist, chasing his own release just behind yours.

You were still coming down when he collapsed beside you, hand never leaving your thigh, thumb stroking idle circles into your skin as you caught your breath.

The third time unfolded more slowly again, but with a deeper, more intimate heat. You were still catching your breath, muscles loose and limbs heavy when Jannik shifted beside you. He didn’t speak—just leaned in and pressed his lips to your shoulder, his hand trailing down the dip of your waist.

You felt the heat radiating off of his hand before he even touched you there fully, his fingers trailing between your legs. And when he found you still sensitive, still warm and pliant, he sucked in a breath.

You turned your face toward him, lips parting as your eyes met. "Again?"

"You’re not done," he said simply. "I can feel it."

And then he was kissing you—slow, inebriating kisses that deepened as his fingers moved lower, parting you with practiced ease. He slipped two fingers inside you, curling them upward until your hips twitched in response. His palm pressed flat against you, thumb brushing steady circles over your clit, gradually building pressure as your thighs instinctively tensed.

Your gasp caught between your lips and his, a sharp intake of breath as your hands clutched his forearm. He adjusted—curling his fingers just right, angling his wrist to drive the sensation deeper. Every stroke sent a jolt through your core, your body arching into him, leaning into pressure.

His thumb never faltered, dragging over you in constant, coaxing circles, synced with each movement inside you. He was quiet, attentive—watching you with heavy-lidded eyes, waiting for every reaction, every shiver, every breathy moan that spilled past your lips.

His mouth dropped to your neck, hot and open, teeth grazing gently as he murmured low praise that vibrated into your skin. He spoke softly into your skin, not in full sentences this time but fragments—your name, how good you felt, how much he loved seeing you like this.

"Don’t hold back," he said, and then you couldn’t anymore.

The third orgasm rolled through you like a slow-building wave, different from the ones before—less of a crash, more of a flood. Your body arched into his hand, thighs tensing around his wrist as your hands flew to his chest, fingers pressing hard against him as if to anchor yourself.

He kept going until you whimpered, until the tremors subsided and your head lolled back into the pillow, boneless. He slowed, then stilled, brushing a kiss to the center of your chest as you blinked up at him, dazed and flushed.

He kissed your temple and murmured praise that blurred into your hair—steady, grounding, full of awe. He cradled you close, his hand stroking up and down your arm, his breath warm where he tucked his face into your neck as your body hummed, every nerve of yours drawn taut. 

"Still okay?" he’d murmured, and even when you nodded, he took a long moment to restart. He let you settle, his lips finding yours in a slower rhythm.

You pushed him back for a second, at his lack of pace, and kissed his jaw, murmuring, "One more."

"You’re still trembling," he whispered, but a smile was growing on his face at your eagerness.

“Thought you weren’t one to give up so easily, huh?” And you pulled his hand down, immediately gasping at the contact, but sticking with your adamance. 

Jannik was outright grinning now, and you both let out a little laugh at your visceral reaction—his, low and amused as he looked at you splayed out and blissed-out, and yours, breathy and disbelieving. But when his fingers fluttered where you’d placed them, you didn’t stop him—and when your eyes rolled shut at the touch, he leaned in with a kind of hunger that replaced all hesitation.

This time, he guided you onto your stomach, one hand sliding under your hips to pull them up gently, elevating you just enough for him to settle behind. His body pressed against your back, his weight grounding, comforting. The hand beneath you moved slowly at first, fingers slipping through your slick folds with practiced care. He circled your clit with the lightest touch, drawing a breathless sound from you as your thighs clenched instinctively.

Then he pushed two fingers inside, angling his hand so that every stroke dragged upward, catching a spot that made your hips rock back into him with a soft, broken moan. He picked up on it instantly—adjusting, driving deeper, curling his fingers deliberately while his thumb found a rhythm against your clit that had you all but biting into the pillow.

His mouth pressed hot against your shoulder blade, and you felt him smile into your skin as he moved. "So sensitive," he murmured. "Like I just have to touch you here—"

He curled again, just right, and your entire body jolted.

"—and you can’t help yourself."

You tried to speak, to answer, but your voice cracked into a moan. He stayed steady behind you, his body firm along your back, one arm braced beside your shoulder, the other still working you open with maddening precision.

And then another crept up—your breath hitching, your hips jerking back against his hand, your thighs starting to tremble again—the fourth wave slammed through you. You cried out into the pillow, body bowing, and he held you through it—his hand never leaving your body, his voice soothing against your ear, calling you back down with each gentle stroke.

When your body finally stilled, he kissed the base of your neck and whispered, "Still with me?"

And you nodded, barely able to find your voice through the haze. He pressed gentle kisses to your forehead and to the side of your mouth as he laid beside you, whispering praise as his hand smoothed along your rib cage until your breath returned to normal. He didn’t reach for more, ready to wind down, but then you tugged at his wrist.

He shifted beside you at the signal and murmured, "More?"

When you blinked yes with a dazed smile and single nod, he smiled, too. Soft and wicked. "Come here."

That fifth time was slower still—him lying back and drawing you over him, letting you set the pace. He guided your hips with hands warm and steady, not directing but encouraging, thumbs brushing your waist as you sank onto him, inch by inch. It took you a long moment to adjust, as stimulated and shaky as you were.

You exhaled a shivering breath, the stretch still so full despite how many times he’d already had you tonight. He groaned softly as you settled against him, hands resting low on your back. You moved tentatively at first, still sensitive, still aching in the best way, but Jannik met each roll of your hips with a low hum of pleasure, eyes half-lidded and focused entirely on you.

He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "There you go," he murmured. "Just like that."

Each grind drew out a new sound from your throat, your body stretched over his as you built the rhythm. His hands didn’t stop moving—one trailing up your spine, the other cupping your breast, brushing his thumb softly over your nipple until you gasped and shivered.

You leaned down to kiss him, sweet and soft, your hips never breaking pace. The kiss turned hungry fast—teeth grazing, tongues tangling—as your body leaned into the growing friction. He matched it with soft groans against your mouth, his hands tightening just slightly every time you clenched around him. 

It was when he finished, with a choked groan into your ear and the faltering of his hips, that you felt yourself close again. You buried your face in his neck, moaning low as your body trembled from head to toe. He held you there, letting you shake apart over him, murmuring your name for the nth time that night. You whimpered into his shoulder, clutching at him as the wave crashed through you one last time.

You collapsed against him, flushed and glowing, and he held you there, kissing your shoulder and stroking slow lines up and down your back. Letting the silence of the moment settle between your breaths.

By now, the night had melted into early morning, you lay tangled in the sheets, breathing ragged, his fingers trailing lazily down your side. Every part of you ached, in the best way. Your skin buzzed, sensitive and flushed from everything he’d given you. The sheets were half-kicked off, your legs tangled with his, your cheek resting against the bare skin of his chest where it rose and fell with each slow breath.

Neither of you spoke for a while. He just held you close, fingers sketching idle shapes into your back. Occasionally, he would press a soft kiss to your hairline, the bridge of your nose, the slope of your shoulder—each one slow, quiet, unrushed.

You eventually shifted slightly to move just partially off of him, draping an arm across his stomach, your voice muffled against his skin. "I feel like I won that—just for the record."

He chuckled, low and warm. "Won what?"

“The challenge,” you sighed dramatically, stating the obvious. "You almost stopped short a couple times there… and you would’ve, had I not intervened."

 “No—I for sure won.” He grinned into your hair and gave your hip a playful squeeze, pulling you in tighter. “Tell me, how are your legs feeling?”

"... I’m going to be useless tomorrow."

 "Exactly." He chuckled, low and warm. “So, I won.”

"I say we call it a draw," you whispered, starting to fall asleep with each breath, your voice soft with exhaustion but a smile tugging at the edges. Jannik pulled you closer, tucking his chin onto the top of your head, and smiling as you mumbled one last, barely conscious line before drifting off. “Can’t let you get too cocky on me...”

---

Don't know if this humanly possible for most, and I don't care... this was just fun to write and, uh, hopefully fun to read... lmk! xx