#next time i talk about windows and design

[buckyshoneybunny]

Fall Days & Long Games

College!Quarterback!Bucky Barnes + Curvy!College!Reader 

Summery- You get tired of Bucky avoiding you, so you corner him before his game. After more revealed secrets, will things finally be okay? Or will your relationship just get worse? And of course, when John Walker is thrown into the mix, something always happens. 

W.C.- 3812 

Warnings- Mentions of smut and oral (both f and m rec.) Cursing, fluff, angst  

A/N- Wow okay totally meant to have this done sooner lol. There definitely will be more of these two so don’t worry. I was going to do smut but I didn’t have time. The next one probably will have smut. Anyway, I was so tired writing this lol so any mistakes are mine, it’s definitely not proof read. I really do hope you like. The picture of the living room is mine, I designed it for this series the football field pic is not mine, found it on google. Now I’m off to start Friendsgiving! Bye my loves! (P.S. it’s kinda all over the place, I tried to put like lines to separate it, there is some of Bucky’s POV though) 

Taglist- @calwitch @winterslove1917 @hi172826

Masterlist      Series Masterlist  

Bucky groaned as the sunlight streaming through the blinds shined right into his eyes. He hadn’t drunk enough to be hungover, but he could tell he drank last night. He rolled over and buried his face in the fluffy pillow.  

He took a deep breath, the scent of plum and peaches relaxing him. Wait a second, plum and peaches? His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, he slowly opened his eyes, taking in the sight of the room.  

A desk neatly organized, sat in front of a window overlooking the side yard. Pens and pencils color coordinated; computer sat in the middle. It was one of those all-white desks that you get from one of those furniture stores. It matched the bookcase that was littered with books and personal items.  

He figured the dresser must be in the closet since one wasn’t visible. A school bag sat by the door. Not just any school bag, your school bag. Last night’s events came flooding back. Your costume, the argument and the things you both said, the amazing sex.  

He carefully rolled over again; he sighed in relief when he saw you were still asleep. You laid on your side, cuddling a brown, stuffed dog that looked like it was as old as you. Your Y/C/H hair sat tangled on the pillow, shining in the sunlight and creating a halo around your head.  

He found himself smiling as he watched you sleep; the way you hugged the stuffed dog, holding onto it for dear life and how peaceful you looked. The way you frowned, something not going the way you want in your dream.  

How your normally soft, pink lips were chapped from the cooler weather. The way they were slightly parted, allowing a little bit of drool to come out the corner of your mouth. 

His smile widened and his heart fluttered the longer he watched you. He paused, why the hell was his heart fluttering? He shot up, sitting up fast enough he winced, hoping he hadn’t made too much movement.  

He let out a breath when you didn’t stir in the slightest. What would you have said if you had woken up? Would you be angry? Would you regret it? His stomach twisted at the thought of you regretting sleeping with him. But why, it’s not like he cared? Right?  

I mean, he hated you, every little thing you did pissed him off. The way your notes had to be perfectly organized, or how you bite your perfect pink lips when you’re thinking. The way your eyes sparkle when you talk about something you love and how you get emotional when-oh god.  

He jumped out of the bed, his legs getting tangled in the sheets and nearly falling on his ass. His heart pounded, there was no way. He couldn’t be, could he? He couldn’t possibly be all of a sudden catching feelings for you. Except, it isn’t sudden, he’s felt like this for a while. Shoving down the feelings he had for you and convincing himself it was hate that he felt instead. 

Only now those feelings are crawling back up now that you both had come to some sort of understanding and he had a taste of what it was like to be with you. The feeling of your soft skin under his hands, how perfectly your sexy curves felt against his toned body. How much he loved the contrast of your soft, plump stomach against his hard, lean abdomen. 

His heart beats faster every second he allows himself to acknowledge his feelings for you. He couldn’t do this. He needed to leave before you wake up and laugh at him, telling him this was all a big mistake and you could never be with someone like him.  

He quickly dressed and snuck out; thankful no one was awake yet. He couldn’t face anyone right now, he needed-he didn’t know what he needed. All he knew was he had to get the hell out of here before anyone could wake up and ask what happened.  

You were livid. Two weeks, two fucking weeks that fucker had been avoiding you. You held out hope that morning that maybe he had been downstairs or in the bathroom. But he wasn’t. You wanted to cry when Nat told you she had seen him walking down the driveway nearly two hours before.  

_____

You had hoped that maybe this could’ve been the start of a new relationship, even if it was just as friends, you would’ve taken whatever you could get. But the next time you had seen him, he acted like you weren’t even there, liked nothing happened.  

You were pissed, hurt, and most of all, disappointed. You hated accepted a long time that some part of you liked him. But his constant attitude towards you made it easier to hate him rather than focusing on your feelings for him. 

You may not know why he was acting like this, but you knew one thing. You were going to find out why. 

“You okay?” Natasha asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. “You’ve hardly touched your food, and I know how much you love those sausage and cheese biscuits.”  

You sigh and pick at the crumbs. You, Yelena, and Natasha were at a fast-food joint for a quick breakfast before heading out to buy fall decorations, since none of you had classes today. What a miracle that was. 

“Yeah, just...thinking.”  

“About Bucky?” Yelena mumbles, her mouth full of food. 

“No.” That was an obvious lie.  

Nat rolls her eyes. “Oh come on, what’s been going on between you and Barnes?” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” you mumble and take a bite of food.  

“Cut the bullshit, you two have been avoiding each other more than usual.” 

You couldn’t hide things from Natasha, she’d find out one way or another. “Halloween night we got into this big argument, said some things and had sex.”  

Both her and Yelena choke on their food. “You had sex?!” Yelena nearly yells.  

“Say that a little louder, I don’t think the guy across the street heard you,” you grumble. Yelena stammers, trying to come up with a response. 

“Um, wow, okay. But that still doesn’t explain why you are avoiding each other?” Nat says. 

“He’s avoiding me. When I woke up the next morning he was gone and ever since then won’t even acknowledge I exist.” Natasha could hear the pain in your voice.  

“Tell you what, I always go see Steve before their game. Why don’t you come with me and talk to Bucky. If you corner him, he can’t run.”  

You thought for a moment. That actually sounded pretty good. You agreed and you guys finished breakfast and headed out to start the shopping. 

By the time you got home it was just after three in the afternoon, the game didn’t start till seven so there was plenty of time to decorate and get ready.  

You all three worked in harmony to decorate the living room, soft music playing through the speakers. Yelena had lit a few candles; they were already giving you a headache. You didn’t say anything though, you knew how much they loved the cinnamon and pumpkin scented candles. Yelena said it didn’t feel like fall without them. So, you’d put up with a little headache if it meant Yelena was happy.  

By the time you guys finished and got ready, it was forty minutes until the game started. You mentally gave yourself a peptalk the whole way there. You could do this, you were ready. 

_____

Realistically, Bucky knew he was making things worse. That avoiding you completely wasn’t helping, but he just wasn’t ready. The last two weeks his mind has been consumed with you.  

Every time you thought he wasn’t paying attention, he was. He started noticing the little things, the way your hair framed your face, how your eyes shined in the sunlight. He couldn’t deny his feelings anymore, the only thing he couldn’t figure out was if this was a regular crush, or something more. 

This whole situation was getting to him, he was having trouble sleeping, couldn’t focus. Hell, Couch Fury got on his ass this week more times than he can count. Needless to say, it was affecting his focus on tonight's game and that wasn’t good. 

Tonight, they were playing their ultimate rivals, Hydra. And the ‘star’ quarterback of their team was John Walker. God, just the thought of that man made Bucky’s blood boil. He was an egoistic jerk who lived off his daddy’s money. The man didn’t even have any real talent. 

Bucky couldn’t count how many times he had to refrain from punching the smug bastard, especially when he wouldn’t take no for an answer and keep his grimy hands off the women.  

Bucky barged through the locker room door, his pregame playlist blasting through his earbuds. He shoved his bag into his locker and started to get ready for the game.  

_____

Your heart was pounding as you walked with Nat to the men’s locker rooms, Yelena grabbing y'all's spot in the front row, curtesy of one Steve Rogers. You had caught sight of John Walker earlier. The thought of him made your skin crawl. You'd heard stories of how he would get aggressive when he didn’t get what he wanted.  

“You ready?” Nat asked once you reached the locker room. You took a deep breath and nodded.  

Nat pushed the door open, immediately heading for Steve, you spotted Bucky in the back messing with his helmet. His back was to you. Perfect. 

You walked up behind him, tapping his shoulder. 

“What?” He said gruffly, not even bothering to turn around. 

“We need to talk.” He spun around, eyes wide with shock before he masked it with his signature cold look. 

“Can’t.” He says coldly. “Game’s about to start.” 

You snap. “No!” You shout. “You are not leaving until you talk to me!” He goes to walk past you and you put your hands on his chest, shoving him back with enough force that it surprised him. And you for that matter, you didn’t know you had that in you. 

The locker room goes quiet and everyone looks at you. 

“You wanna talk so fucking bad? Fine then, talk.” He slammed his helmet down on the bench.  

“You say you aren’t a fuckboy, so why the hell are you acting like one?!” 

His brows furrow. “What?”  

“Why were you gone the next morning? Why are you avoiding me like the plague?” He stammered, trying to come up with a response. You both were so focused on each other that you didn’t notice the other teammates tip-toeing out to give you both privacy. 

“I want answers, James.” You try to sound demanding but your words come out shaky. “If it was a mistake just say so, but don’t avoid me like a fucking coward!” 

His jaw clenches in annoyance. “I’m not a coward,” he says lowly. Almost a growl.  

“Well, you’re sure as hell acting like one.” 

He moves past you to sit on the bench, rubbing his face in frustration. “I freaked out, okay? I panicked and ran.” 

“See? Coward.” 

“Would you-” He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself before he does something stupid. It wasn’t working, he was about two seconds from punching the locker in front of him.  

You could see the internal war going on inside him by the look on his face. Your expression softened just a tiny bit. No, you tell yourself. He did this to himself; this is the consequence of his actions, don’t feel bad for him.  

“That morning, I just....” He sighed. He didn’t know how to phrase what he wanted to say. If he just ripped the band aid off, it would come out all jumbled.  

“It was all kind of like a smack in the face, ya know? One moment I’m watching you sleep and the next my heart is fluttering. The longer I watched you, the worse it got. And then I started thinking, and I realized the reason my heart was fluttering was because I was catching feelings.”  

He can’t be serious? “Are you serious? That's the excuse you’re using? You can’t just play with my feelings like that and lie, that’s isn’t funny.” Your voice breaks, tears cloud your vision. You blink them away, not wanting to cry in front of him.  

His expression softens. “I’m not, Y/N,” he sighs. “I’m not.” You can hear the small crack in his voice, the desperation written all over his face. 

Before you could say anything, Steve pops his head in. “Sorry to interrupt but the game is about to start.” Bucky nods and Steve closes the door.  

Bucky grabs his helmet. He turns to you like he wants to say something, but doesn’t. He just sighs and walks out the locker room. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and leaning against one of the lockers. Your knees felt weak, your heart practically screaming in your ears with how loud it was beating.  

You felt like you were further then where you started with him. Like this conversation took you three steps back rather than forward. You get a handle on your emotions before heading out to join Nat and Yelena. You get there just in time to see Bucky and the team come out. 

“How did it go?” Yelena asks. 

You shake your head and swallow past the lump in your throat. “I don’t want to take about it.” Nat could hear the quiver in your voice. She rubbed your arm and gave you a reassuring smile that said everything was going to be okay. And while that may be true, right now it felt everything but okay.  

Once the game got going and you three were cheering, you started to feel better. You could do this, you just had to take it one step at a time.  

______

It was like routine at this point, his team would take the lead and John Walker would start to talk shit. Bucky always brushed him off, never paying attention or letting it get to him. Except for tonight.  

Bucky was already on edge, everything going on with you messing with his head. Walker had already been talking shit, everything he could to piss Bucky off. It didn’t work though, but then he had an idea. He'd seen the way Bucky had kept looking at you every chance he got.  

Walker turned to Lemar. “See that chick over there? Uh Y/N, I think her name is? She'd look like a pretty good lay don’t you think?” He had a shit eating grin on his face. 

Bucky froze as soon as he heard your name come out of John’s mouth. If looks could kill, Walker would have disintegrated. Lemar chuckles when he sees what his buddy is trying to do. 

“I mean, she’s a bit too...what’s the word? Fat for my taste, but I’m-” Now any other night Bucky would have told Walker to go fuck himself. Tonight was not that night. Bucky threw off his helmet and shoved Walker to the ground. 

You, Nat, and Yelena all stand up. You ask Nat what the hell he’s doing. She can’t come up with an answer, you watch, hoping he gets his shit together. 

Walker stood up, taking his helmet off. “Dude, what the fu-” Bucky’s fist collided with Walker’s face before he could finish.  

All hell broke loose. Both teams arguing, some getting physical too. Bucky ended up on top of Walker, throwing punch for punch. Steve and Sam manage to get Bucky off him, but can barely hold him back. Steve gives you a ‘help’ look. 

“You need to go out there and stop him,” Nat says. 

“What makes you think he’ll listen to me?”  

“I have a feeling he will, now go.” Nat says frantically.  

With the help of the people on the side lines, you make it over the fence, running to get to Bucky. Once you get close enough you can hear Bucky calling John every foul name he can think of, all the while Steve and Sam struggle to keep their hold on him.  

“Bucky! Enough!” You yell, out of breath. He stops the moment he hears your voice. He looks at you.  

“Y/N?” He asks.  

“Oh, I see,” Walker chuckles. “Someone has feel-” Bucky manages to get free and punches Walker again, this time effectively shutting him up. Bucky doesn’t spare you another glance, shoving past you to head to the locker rooms. 

You tried to stop him, the look on his face stopped you. You cried yourself to sleep that night. 

____

Saturday mornings were usually pretty chill. The three of you laid out on the couch in your pjs, watching TV. Steve and Sam decided to come over, bringing breakfast.  

“How did it go last night?” Nat asks as she gets everyone drinks. 

“Well, Fury cussed him out for a solid 30 minutes, said if he wasn’t as good of a player as he was that he’d cut him from the team. Thankfully Walker isn’t pressing charges.” Steve sighs.  

“What happens now?” Yelena asks.  

“Nothing really, keep practicing. We'll have a do over next month, play against other teams and give everyone time to cool off.” Sam says, taking a bite of food. Once everyone finishes, Steve tells you to go talk to Bucky.  

You get dressed and brush your teeth. “How is he?” You ask, putting your shoes on.  

“Pissed.” Sam says. 

“Look, I know you’re mad at him and I know he caused this but, please just..take it easy on him. He's been dealing with the repercussions of his actions the past two weeks. It's been messing with his head. So, please just take it easy, okay?” You could see how concerned Steve was, his voice pleading.  

You nod. “Okay,” you say softly. “I will.” Steve nods and gives you the keys to their dorm.  

It takes you little over half an hour to get to their dorm, it being on the other side of the campus. You open the door as quietly as you can. It's quiet inside, you almost think Bucky isn’t home. 

You close the door and tip toe to where Steve said Bucky’s room was. His door was ajar, you could see him lying on his back on the bed starring up at the celling. In gray sweatpants, his bare chest on display. His metal and flesh hand laced together on his abdomen; you could see his bruised knuckles. You also made a mental note to ask him what happened, but first you had to repair this dysfunctional relationship between the two of you. 

“Bucky?” You ask softly, pushing his door open. 

His eyes snap to you, he lets out a breath, mumbling out a curse. You bite your lip to hold back the smile that wanted to spill, knowing you scared him. 

“What do you want?” His tone is neutral but the look in his eyes gives him away. He's hurting.  

He sits up and you sit on the edge of the bed. “I want to talk.” You say softly. “And before you say anything, I’m not here to argue or play the blame game. I just want to talk.”  

He can see the desperate look in your eyes, he nods. After a moment you speak up again. “What happened? What's going through your mind?” You whisper. 

He sighs. “That morning, I finally realized that I had feelings for you. It was sudden, but at the same time it wasn’t.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“It hit me that I had been burying those feelings for you for a while, convincing myself to hate you. Why? I have no idea, maybe it was easier to have you hate me, maybe I thought since you did hate me that you’d never give me a chance.” 

“And these feelings...mean you like me? Like, like like me?” 

“No-yes,” he sighs frustratingly. “I like you, yes, but...” 

You can feel your pulse in your throat. “But?” Your voice is hardly loud enough to be a whisper. 

“It doesn’t feel like some regular crush, it feels like something more,” he admits quietly.  

Your breath catches in your throat. “Why didn’t you say anything? Why avoid me?” 

“Because I was scared, I’ve never felt like this before.” You both go quiet for a moment. 

You take a deep breath, gathering the courage to say what you need to say. “I’ve always known that some part of me liked you. I made peace with that a long time ago. It was just easier to hate you, especially with how much of a jerk you were.” He looks down, his face filled with guilt.  

“But I also didn’t want to admit I was wrong.” 

He looks up, his blue eyes locking in on yours. “Wrong about what?” He asks, confused. 

“About you. You aren’t some egoistic fuckboy, even with how we acted towards each other, I could see you were a good guy. I’m sorry, Bucky.” 

“I’m sorry too,” he whispers. You lace your fingers his. 

“So, what now?” You ask quietly, almost afraid of his answer.  

He lets out a breath and squeezes your hand. “I want...I want to give this a shot. I know we’ve never seen eye to eye. But we both have these feelings and....I want to explore them with you, if you can ever forgive me.”  

You smile softly. “Really? You want that?” 

He nods. “Yeah, if you’ll have me.” 

You nod, smile growing. “Yes.” 

You both just look at each other, smiling like a couple of goofballs. Bucky leans forward, his hands gently cupping your face. 

“May I?” He whispers. 

You snicker. “Yes.” He presses his lips to yours gently. The kiss is much softer than any other kiss you’ve had.  

You and Bucky spent most of the rest of the day wrapped around each other. Exploring each other’s bodies, seeing what made the other tic and what made them crumble. Your hips met his thrust for thrust, starting off soft and going harder each time either of you got close. 

Bucky took his time exploring your pussy, savoring each lick, all the while torturing you. He reveled in the taste of you on his tongue. You took pride in watching him shudder as you made him fall apart, only to put him back together like he did to you. He had stamina and practically no refractory period and you took advantage of that. That and the empty dorm room. 

And as you laid snuggled on his chest, him holding you close and rubbing your side. You were excited to see where this would lead. You were grateful everything turned out okay. 

But as they always say, nothing ever goes as planned. 

[mc-lukanette]

Taking her talent online, ultimately, had been the way Marinette felt she could play to her strengths without worrying about her weaknesses. Commissions had been helpful as a side job while she made a name for herself, and following that came a proper channel to run and make money off of. She did a little bit of everything, from sewing to designing to color theory and tutorials for how to do it all.

One of the best parts about it was the anonymity of it all, as she could keep her face hidden and no one would question a thing. It meant that no past publicity she had ever gotten as Marinette - particularly those from celebrities - mattered, and she could build herself up based on herself and nothing else.

Not having to talk to people was a bonus. When she did "talk" to others online, it was through instant messaging, and the Marinette who stammered through every word was far less likely to come out when she had to type things out and voluntarily send it afterwards. Even better was knowing that it was harder to be lured in by a pretty face speaking pretty lies when she wasn't face-to-face with them.

It was just about perfect. Sure, she still lived alone as an adult, not having someone to call hers, but she wasn't lonely and she did have someone in a sort of vague way.

I saw your video. That wasn't fair. I was planning on relaxing today and now I can't put my guitar down.

Like she was a schoolgirl all over again, Marinette had to step away from her computer and collapse onto her bed, kicking her legs out and giggling to herself.

She didn't know his name or face, but she'd heard his voice and creative ability. He was another channel like hers, though not a competing one as he made music rather than other creative ventures. From what she'd gathered over their messages to each other, he was like her where he found public fame to be a hassle and preferred being able to simply put himself out there quietly.

Their "relationship" had started with - appropriately - creativity itself. She'd been looking for something to listen to and found herself drawn in by the same faceless presentation that she had as well, going from one of his songs to the next until she'd blown through his entire channel. She got inevitably inspired and made a video where she made a dress based on one of his pieces, which he'd seen and made a video back at her with music piecing together the emotions one of her designs had invoked in him.

She tried not to let herself get carried away, telling herself that he'd done it out of obligation or thanks, but creativity didn't lie. She didn't know anything about music or the details of making it, but she could feel it when she listened to what he'd made: he meant every note he played.

Talking to each other over instant messaging started up from there, and she'd be lying to herself if she said she didn't find it the slightest bit romantic. The videos inspired by each other continued, like love letters to the other's talent, and they weren't shy about praising each other directly through their messages either.

He was the kind of guy she always wished that she'd had in her life: direct while not being overbearing or abrasive. Too often, she'd find herself trying to decipher the vagueness in people's words or question how much she could take out of them. He didn't leave room for that.

He was also, as she'd discovered only a month ago, totally single and lived in New York like she did. The former had been through some idle Q&A while messaging each other, but the latter was what she'd parsed out from some of his music: just enough was taken from landmarks or notable aspects of it that he had to be living there.

She stayed up some nights, dazed with thoughts of how close they might be to each other. Would she walk down the street one day and hear his recognizable style playing from a window he'd accidentally left open? Or had they passed each other on the street dozens of times and hadn't realized? She'd grown content in knowing that her social interaction in her offline life had greatly diminished due to her online job, but it was different with him.

The worst part was that she knew she could just ask him if he felt the same and would get an honest answer. All it took was working up the courage.

Heading back to her computer and looking over his message for the twelfth time, she smiled to herself and typed out her response.

Oh no. I'm forcing you to create more. Now you'll get even more of all the attention you deserve.

Her heart raced even after she'd sent it. He brought out a side of her that was much bolder than she was normally, and she liked it. Sometimes she caught herself twirling a strand of her hair or caring about how she looked as if he could see her and it was almost like a game.

A blush-inducing game.

I know. Terrible. But seriously, you're really something. I didn't know if my message would come through the music when I wrote it, but you caught everything. Either I'm a musical genius, you're a genius music analyst, or both.

She laughed at the idea that she would be some sort of music connoisseur, sampling his tracks like fine wine to determined their meaning.

You're definitely a musical genius. Just don't let it go to your head or you won't be able to find room to hide your face in videos anymore. Besides, you being so humble is one of my favorite things about you.

She hesitated before sending the last message, wondering briefly if she was coming on a little strong. Friends could casually talk about the traits they liked in each other, right?

Assuming they were friends, anyway. She supposed they'd never really put a name on it.

His next reply took a few seconds longer than she would've expected for its length.

It's hard to pick favorite things, but I've always admired how much you try to make everyone happy. You reply to so many comments, you're always listening to them, and I can see how hard you're working to make something entertaining.

He noticed? Well, of course he noticed - it was him - but she rubbed her pink cheeks at the thought that he'd been paying that close attention to her. She couldn't judge or anything as she put just as much effort into keeping an eye on him, but he was a special case.

Did he do that with everyone? Could she afford to ask, maybe with a little "haha" at the beginning to keep it casual?

Before she could start typing out some experimental responses, she noticed that he was typing again and kept still.

I hope you're putting just as much effort into making yourself happy too, whatever your happiness is.

She held back a squeak even though he wasn't there to hear it. The way he'd always worry about her was precious, like when she hadn't posted any videos in a week and he immediately asked if anything was wrong or she needed a break. He was just that kind of person, caring for all people generally but prioritizing those he was close to; it sounded standard, but he would've easily told her to not care in the slightest about her viewers and just be ruthlessly selfish if it was for the sake of her personal happiness.

It reminded her of love interests in stories at times, specifically the ones who would act neutral or cold to all others but treat their special someone extra special.

Swallowing down the feelings in her throat, she focused on responding to him.

Whatever my happiness is? Even if that's a person?

It was a joke more than anything else to lighten the atmosphere she'd caused in her own room. Maybe he'd crack some line about stealing someone away for herself.

Though, looking over the message again, she realized the ways he could take it. She chewed at her bottom lip, wondering how she could deal with it if he told her honestly that he was fine with her going after anyone. It wasn't as if she'd feel like he'd been leading her on, but they'd grown to a level of closeness where she hoped their relationship wasn't strictly friendly.

He finally responded, but she granted that time felt like it was creeping along painfully slowly while she'd waited.

Yeah. Anyone at all.

Her heart sank. So he was fine with anyone, meaning—

Including me.

Heat climbed up Marinette's neck. She stood, so quick that she nearly knocked her chair over, and ran right back to her bed to start punching her pillow. The screech she let out was entirely involuntary, a desperate attempt by her body to get out all of the emotions those two words had given her.

He could've left it at "anyone," which technically included him anyway, but he made sure to single himself out so she would know. Direct, just like she'd always asked for, good for her head and wonderfully bad for her heart. Knowing that he wanted her to pursue anyone at all, even beyond him, for the sake of her own happiness, somehow just made him more attractive.

And she didn't even know what he looked like!

By the time she'd finished beating up the pillow that had done nothing wrong, she frantically ruffled her hair and scratched at her scalp whilst trying to sort her thoughts. She looked like a mess by the end, someone who'd just gotten out of bed, but she didn't care. She knew she couldn't leave him on read, so she hurried back to the computer to reply to him.

She took a long, deep breath before sending it out, thinking to herself, Here we go...

You make me happy.

The heat climbed higher and she covered her face with her hands, rifling through her memories to figure out when she'd gotten so utterly embarrassing. He wouldn't mind, she was sure, and if it really bothered him then he'd probably give her an out so they'd never have to talk about it again.

She hoped he didn't.

The signature notification sound - the plucking of an electric guitar - played twice, alerting her that he'd responded. She peeked through her fingers to read.

You make me happy too. I want to meet you.

"AHH!" she screamed, impulsively slamming her fists into the keyboard. A mess of letters got sent to him as a result, but that about summed up her thoughts more than anything she could've possibly typed out.

He wanted to meet her. She made him happy too. Her heart fluttered fast and pleasantly in a way that only he could cause, even with the anxiety that came with that. She still wasn't good at offline socializing, and instant messaging had been all of their interactions barring videos they made for each other. What if her full self put him off?

Another two messages popped up.

I couldn't stop myself from saying that. There's no pressure if you don't want to meet up. You can just tell me honestly how you feel. You won't upset me, I promise.

Honestly? She shut her eyes for a moment in an effort to calm herself. The fact that even he - whose relaxed voice never raised once in any of his videos - couldn't help impulsively messaging for a meet up was promising, so she couldn't dare give up the opportunity.

She just couldn't, and she forced herself to type her honest opinion on the matter.

I want to meet you too.

It wasn't directly a promise to see each other, she reminded herself. They didn't set a time or place, even though they shared a state and timezone so it wouldn't have been that difficult to plan. Their shared careers meant that they could easily match each other's schedules, but nothing had to be set in stone right then.

Yet, in all her conflicting emotions, she looked forward to the mere idea.

[public-hazard]

oh no. I’m making a real post

this is what i would call.. a rant. Its main point is about laptops and shit being functional after more than 3 years before I conclude it by telling you to backup your shit.

it’s actually part 1 of 2 because I’m a fucking NERD

essentially, TL;DR the state of laptops and anti-repair sucks and i hate it, technological parts will fail eventually, and it should be easy for the consumer to fix the shit they bought. backup your shit bc things can fail at any moment.

i love computers. i love technology! I love seeing technology grow and people make bigger better things that are cool! yes I do! hell, even ai is interesting! ai art would be objectively fucking fascinating to see a machine learn how to mimic a human action EXCEPT FOR THE MINOR CAVEAT THAT WE, AS HUMANS, HAVE NO QUALMS ABOUT STEALING! THAT’S THE ISSUE! and also some other stuff probably but that is SO NOT THE POINT

now that I’ve successfully avoided an ai tangent, let’s move on to what this post IS about

What in the actual FUCK are modern laptops. i don’t WANT a thin, ultra-flimsy piece of shit that is designed to break or be obsolete in less than 10 years

i have a laptop! From what, 2010? 2011? it needs probably more RAM and to be upgraded from windows 7 to 10. is it still usable, today, in 2024 for basic shit: ABSOLUTELY. It has problems, sure, but those are SOLVABLE PROBLEMS. I CAN REPAIR THIS FUCKING LAPTOP. YOU HEAR THAT? I CAN REPAIR IT. probably through finding replacement parts n shit but NOT THE POINT.

it probably has some other stuff that I can fix too! It probably needs basic maintenance because it’s a laptop and it’s never been opened or anything except for the time i went to replug-in the keyboard and maybe.. fucked it up worse. but hey, i tried and uh, probably should’ve done a bit more, but the keyboard was borderline unusable before anyway so if the tried and true unplug and plug back in didn’t work, it was already capital F Fucked. (hp pavilion g6)

oh, and general note: check your fucking batteries. consistently. you do not want to clean a Wii remote that’s had crusty ass AA batteries in it. if it is bigger than it used to be, or otherwise bulging, yes that is bad. the more you know.

2014 or 2015: meet the HP stream 13!

it was probably below average for its time. it sports 2 GB of RAM and I’ve made this fucker bluescreen thrice because of it. its a budget laptop. you want something that can do.. basic shit? perfect. it can do your taxes!

it cannot perfectly display a Google doc over 30 pages though with other things running! it will break shit. can’t blame it though, it’s trying its best. it’s also still running windows 8.1, though, not sure how much this affects it. no i will not be researching it for a tumblr post.

is it still usable: absolutely did you not fucking read. my mom uses it for her taxes! it’s hot pink, how snazzy.

my dad has a computer that’s newer with what’s that… 4 GB of RAM? It can with windows 10 but now has windows 11! and… oh. what’s that? I’m having the same amount of memory issues as A LAPTOP RUNNING WINDOWS 8.1 WITH HALF THE RAM. DID YOU HEAR THAT? HUH? actually i think the issues are WORSE but its not mine so i will not be knowing for certain. but it was at least on par or worse. Someone online told me that 4 GB is not enough for windows 11. i do not completely trust a stranger i met once but.. i can’t see anything in task manager that’s just hogging resources (other than antimalware from windows or whatever the fuck it’s called)

the point of that is: WHAT THE FUCK.

is it usable: yes. it can do work stuff. it can do your taxes. it’s not a snazzy hot pink though.

if you got to this point, I love you.

anyway.

for the record, I think that things should be easily repairable by the person who bought it. replacement parts should be provided and support should be offered for at least 5 years. it should not be more effective for me to buy a new laptop than to upgrade or fix the one i already have. not that I’m saying it’s the case (I’ve yet to do repairs OR upgrades)

but that is a problem. buying aftermarket and cloned versions that you have no real clue the quality of should not be something the consumer has to do to keep the thing working.

technical parts fail all the time. Files can corrupt, things can stop working. back up your shit and NEVER EVER rely on a perfectly working device to stay perfectly working forever. eventually, it will become obsolete. planned or no, eventually, it will have been made for a period of the past and technology advances all the time. games get bigger and beefier, operating systems give you software you didn’t ask for.

and i didn’t even talk about ports or CD drives or- fucking other shit.

[burntoutdaydreamer]

Things That May Be Causing Your Writer's Block- and How to Beat Them

I don't like the term 'Writer's Block' - not because it isn't real, but because the term is so vague that it's useless. Hundreds of issues all get lumped together under this one umbrella, making writer's block seem like this all-powerful boogeyman that's impossible to beat. Worse yet, it leaves people giving and receiving advice that is completely ineffective because people often don't realize they're talking about entirely different issues.

In my experience, the key to beating writer's block is figuring out what the block even is, so I put together a list of Actual Reasons why you may be struggling to write:

(note that any case of writer's block is usually a mix of two or more)

Perfectionism (most common)

What it looks like:

You write one sentence and spend the next hour googling "synonyms for ___"

Write. Erase. Write. Rewrite. Erase.

Should I even start writing this scene when I haven't figured out this one specific detail yet?

I hate everything I write

Cringing while writing

My first draft must be perfect, or else I'm a terrible writer

Things that can help:

Give yourself permission to suck

Keep in mind that nothing you write is going to be perfect, especially your first draft

Think of writing your first/early drafts not as writing, but sketching out a loose foundation to build upon later

People write multiple drafts for a reason: write now, edit later

Stop googling synonyms and save that for editing

Write with a pen to reduce temptation to erase

Embrace leaving blank spaces in your writing when you can't think of the right word, name, or detail

It's okay if your writing sucks. We all suck at some point. Embrace the growth mindset, and focus on getting words on a page

Lack of inspiration (easiest to fix)

What it looks like:

Head empty, no ideas

What do I even write about???

I don't have a plot, I just have an image

Want to write but no story to write

Things that can help:

Google writing prompts

If writing prompts aren't your thing, instead try thinking about what kind of tropes/genres/story elements you would like to try out

Instead of thinking about the story you would like to write, think about the story you would like to read, and write that

It's okay if you don't have a fully fleshed out story idea. Even if it's just an image or a line of dialogue, it's okay to write that. A story may or may not come out of it, but at least you got the creative juices flowing

Stop writing. Step away from your desk and let yourself naturally get inspired. Go for a walk, read a book, travel, play video games, research history, etc. Don't force ideas, but do open up your mind to them

If you're like me, world-building may come more naturally than plotting. Design the world first and let the story come later

Boredom/Understimulation (lost the flow)

What it looks like:

I know I should be writing but uugggghhhh I just can'tttttt

Writing words feels like pulling teeth

I started writing, but then I got bored/distracted

I enjoy the idea of writing, but the actual process makes me want to throw my laptop out the window

Things that can help:

Introduce stimulation: snacks, beverages, gum, music such as lo-fi, blankets, decorate your writing space, get a clickity-clackity keyboard, etc.

Add variety: write in a new location, try a new idea/different story for a day or so, switch up how you write (pen and paper vs. computer) or try voice recording or speech-to-text

Gamify writing: create an arbitrary challenge, such as trying to see how many words you can write in a set time and try to beat your high score

Find a writing buddy or join a writer's group

Give yourself a reward for every writing milestone, even if it's just writing a paragraph

Ask yourself whether this project you're working on is something you really want to be doing, and be honest with your answer

Intimidation/Procrastination (often related to perfectionism, but not always)

What it looks like:

I was feeling really motivated to write, but then I opened my laptop

I don't even know where to start

I love writing, but I can never seem to get started

I'll write tomorrow. I mean next week. Next month? Next month, I swear (doesn't write next month)

Can't find the time or energy

Unreasonable expectations (I should be able to write 10,000 words a day, right????)

Feeling discouraged and wondering why I'm even trying

Things that can help:

Follow the 2 min rule (or the 1 paragraph rule, which works better for me): whenever you sit down to write, tell yourself that you are only going to write for 2 minutes. If you feel like continuing once the 2 mins are up, go for it! Otherwise, stop. Force yourself to start but DO NOT force yourself to continue unless you feel like it. The more often you do this, the easier it will be to get started

Make getting started as easy as possible (i.e. minimize barriers: if getting up to get a notebook is stopping you from getting started, then write in the notes app of your phone)

Commit to a routine that will work for you. Baby steps are important here. Go with something that feels reasonable: every day, every other day, once a week, twice a week, and use cues to help you remember to start. If you chose a set time to write, just make sure that it's a time that feels natural to you- i.e. don't force yourself to writing at 9am every morning if you're not a morning person

Find a friend or a writing buddy you can trust and talk it out or share a piece of work you're proud of. Sometimes we just get a bit bogged down by criticism- either internal or external- and need a few words of encouragement

The Problem's Not You, It's Your Story (or Outline (or Process))

What it looks like:

I have no problems writing other scenes, it's just this scene

I started writing, but now I have no idea where I'm going

I don't think I'm doing this right

What's an outline?

Drowning in documents

This. Doesn't. Make. Sense. How do I get from this plot point to this one?!?!?! (this ColeyDoesThings quote lives in my head rent free cause BOY have I been there)

Things That Can Help:

Go back to the drawing board. Really try to get at the root of why a scene or story isn't working

A part of growing as a writer is learning when to kill your darlings. Sometimes you're trying to force an idea or scene that just doesn't work and you need to let it go

If you don't have an outline, write one

If you have an outline and it isn't working, rewrite it, or look up different ways to structure it

You may be trying to write as a pantser when you're really a plotter or vice versa. Experiment with different writing processes and see what feels most natural

Study story structures, starting with the three act structure. Even if you don't use them, you should know them

Check out Ellen Brock on YouTube. She's a professional novel editor who has a lot of advice on writing strategies for different types of writers

Also check out Savage Books on YouTube (another professional story editor) for advice on story structure and dialogue. Seriously, I cannot recommend this guy enough

Executive Dysfunction, Usually From ADHD/Autism

What it looks like:

Everything in boredom/understimulation

Everything in intimidation/procrastination

You have been diagnosed with and/or have symptoms of ADHD/Autism

Things that can help:

If you haven't already, seek a diagnosis or professional treatment

Hire an ADHD coach or other specialist that can help you work with your brain (I use Shimmer; feel free to DM me for a referral)

Seek out neurodiverse communities for advice and support

Try body doubling! There's lot's of free online body doubling websites out there for you to try. If social anxiety is a barrier, start out with writing streams such as katecavanaughwrites on Twitch

Be aware of any sensory barriers that may be getting in the way of you writing (such as an uncomfortable desk chair, harsh lighting, bad sounds)

And Lastly, Burnout, Depression, or Other Mental Illness

What it looks like:

You have symptoms of burnout or depression

Struggling with all things, not just writing

It's more than a lack of inspiration- the spark is just dead

Things that can help:

Forget writing for now. Focus on healing first.

Seek professional help

If you feel like it, use writing as a way to explore your feelings. It can take the form of journaling, poetry, an abstract reflection of your thoughts, narrative essays, or exploring what you're feeling through your fictional characters. The last two helped me rediscover my love of writing after I thought years of depression had killed it for good. Just don't force yourself to do so, and stop if it takes you to a darker place instead of feeling cathartic

[monstersholygrail]

very classic but summoning a demon to fuck you and he gets a little obsessed 🙏

Imagine Himbo Demon was one day just casually going about his business, torturing a mortal with the agonizing act of small talk when suddenly a flash of white explodes across his vision. The next thing he knows he’s standing in a magical circle of your own design and he can’t get out.

You ask if he’s an incubus and that’s when he notices the book in your hand, ‘How to Summon Incubi With Your Friends: The Party Guide.’ He also looks you over and notices how painstakingly pretty you are and thinks… he could be an incubus.

That night he has what he claims as the best sex of his eternal life, no doubt about it. The way your body moved as you rode him within an inch of his life made him swear he was being taken back to heaven. The way you tasted sweeter than the finest nectar till it burned permanently into his senses. Every last bit of you was addicting.

When the summoning spell’s time was coming to a close, the demon actually felt an ache at the idea of leaving you and your sweet, sweet holes. He tried to reach for you once more but with a flash of white he was back in hell. His heart and his cock aching for you.

The minute he can he’s scouring hell’s library for the book he saw in your grasp. He reads it like a man possessed, ironically, looking for the spell you must’ve used.

As he’s reading the book, an Incubus just so happens to look over at him. Sensing eyes on him he looks up and their gazes meet. The Incubus reads the cover of the book he has and his eyes widen. He begins slowly inching away from Himbo Demon before turning and quickly rushing off.

Himbo Demon tilts his head, curious as to why the Incubus gave such a reaction. But after a moment of brief confusion, he goes back to reading the book. His eyes brightening as he finds the spell.

That night he clumsily performs the spell. His mind foggy with lust. His cock red, angry, and dripping with precum as he thinks about drowning in your holes, lapping up your essence like it’s the only food he’ll ever need and then fucking you until you’re raw and swollen, only to soothe any pain with his tongue.

Himbo demon growls, reaching down and lazily stroking his cock with one hand and performing the spell with the other. Somehow by a true miracle, it works. He appears back in the same fading circle he appeared in last time. His eyes ignite with feral need and his gaze flickers around the low-lit room before a door opens and you come waltzing in wearing nothing but a towel.

“Miss me, baby?” He snarls in excitement, knowing now he has a way to keep coming back to you.

You yelp, jerking back against the wall in surprise. Not expecting the demon to be here again but you’re not exactly upset about it either. Himbo Demon smiles wickedly, but in truth he’s just so happy to see you! He moves at the speed of lightning and he’s on you in an instant. His tall lithe body caging you in against the wall. You exhale shakily, your body tingling with need and your belly churning with arousal as you glance down at his fat cock bobbing and dribbling with his own arousal.

The scent of you floods Himbo Demon’s senses and he growls, fangs flashing in the moonlight that peaks in from the window. Feeling beyond thrilled that the spell worked. That he can go to you whenever he feels like it now. So long as you keep the summoning circle up, that is. But he’s too focused on your new easy access to even try and realize that.

“Don’t worry, sweet human. I’ve found my way back to you and your glorious body. From now on we shall never be parted and I can properly fuck your weak mortal shell ragged as much as I desire. And there is much… much desire,” Himbo Demon rasps heatedly, looking down at you with a fire in his eyes.

Before you can even think to respond, the demon is shredding your towel into two, revealing your body to him in all its glory. He barely takes the time to appreciate the view and suddenly he’s pressing into, rubbing his length along the height of your belly.

And you know this is the start of a wild adventure. One you’re sure is bound to last more than another night.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How lock-in hurts design

Berliners: Otherland has added a second date (Jan 28) for my book-talk after the first one sold out���- book now!

If you've ever read about design, you've probably encountered the idea of "paving the desire path." A "desire path" is an erosion path created by people departing from the official walkway and taking their own route. The story goes that smart campus planners don't fight the desire paths laid down by students; they pave them, formalizing the route that their constituents have voted for with their feet.

Desire paths aren't always great (Wikipedia notes that "desire paths sometimes cut through sensitive habitats and exclusion zones, threatening wildlife and park security"), but in the context of design, a desire path is a way that users communicate with designers, creating a feedback loop between those two groups. The designers make a product, the users use it in ways that surprise the designer, and the designer integrates all that into a new revision of the product.

This method is widely heralded as a means of "co-innovating" between users and companies. Designers who practice the method are lauded for their humility, their willingness to learn from their users. Tech history is strewn with examples of successful paved desire-paths.

Take John Deere. While today the company is notorious for its war on its customers (via its opposition to right to repair), Deere was once a leader in co-innovation, dispatching roving field engineers to visit farms and learn how farmers had modified their tractors. The best of these modifications would then be worked into the next round of tractor designs, in a virtuous cycle:

https://securityledger.com/2019/03/opinion-my-grandfathers-john-deere-would-support-our-right-to-repair/

But this pattern is even more pronounced in the digital world, because it's much easier to update a digital service than it is to update all the tractors in the field, especially if that service is cloud-based, meaning you can modify the back-end everyone is instantly updated. The most celebrated example of this co-creation is Twitter, whose users created a host of its core features.

Retweets, for example, were a user creation. Users who saw something they liked on the service would type "RT" and paste the text and the link into a new tweet composition window. Same for quote-tweets: users copied the URL for a tweet and pasted it in below their own commentary. Twitter designers observed this user innovation and formalized it, turning it into part of Twitter's core feature-set.

Companies are obsessed with discovering digital desire paths. They pay fortunes for analytics software to produce maps of how their users interact with their services, run focus groups, even embed sneaky screen-recording software into their web-pages:

https://www.wired.com/story/the-dark-side-of-replay-sessions-that-record-your-every-move-online/

This relentless surveillance of users is pursued in the name of making things better for them: let us spy on you and we'll figure out where your pain-points and friction are coming from, and remove those. We all win!

But this impulse is a world apart from the humility and respect implied by co-innovation. The constant, nonconsensual observation of users has more to do with controlling users than learning from them.

That is, after all, the ethos of modern technology: the more control a company can exert over its users ,the more value it can transfer from those users to its shareholders. That's the key to enshittification, the ubiquitous platform decay that has degraded virtually all the technology we use, making it worse every day:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/19/twiddler/

When you are seeking to control users, the desire paths they create are all too frequently a means to wrestling control back from you. Take advertising: every time a service makes its ads more obnoxious and invasive, it creates an incentive for its users to search for "how do I install an ad-blocker":

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/07/adblocking-how-about-nah

More than half of all web-users have installed ad-blockers. It's the largest consumer boycott in human history:

https://doc.searls.com/2023/11/11/how-is-the-worlds-biggest-boycott-doing/

But zero app users have installed ad-blockers, because reverse-engineering an app requires that you bypass its encryption, triggering liability under Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act. This law provides for a $500,000 fine and a 5-year prison sentence for "circumvention" of access controls:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/12/youre-holding-it-wrong/#if-dishwashers-were-iphones

Beyond that, modifying an app creates liability under copyright, trademark, patent, trade secrets, noncompete, nondisclosure and so on. It's what Jay Freeman calls "felony contempt of business model":

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

This is why services are so horny to drive you to install their app rather using their websites: they are trying to get you to do something that, given your druthers, you would prefer not to do. They want to force you to exit through the gift shop, you want to carve a desire path straight to the parking lot. Apps let them mobilize the law to literally criminalize those desire paths.

An app is just a web-page wrapped in enough IP to make it a felony to block ads in it (or do anything else that wrestles value back from a company). Apps are web-pages where everything not forbidden is mandatory.

Seen in this light, an app is a way to wage war on desire paths, to abandon the cooperative model for co-innovation in favor of the adversarial model of user control and extraction.

Corporate apologists like to claim that the proliferation of apps proves that users like them. Neoliberal economists love the idea that business as usual represents a "revealed preference." This is an intellectually unserious tautology: "you do this, so you must like it":

https://boingboing.net/2024/01/22/hp-ceo-says-customers-are-a-bad-investment-unless-they-can-be-made-to-buy-companys-drm-ink-cartridges.html

Calling an action where no alternatives are permissible a "preference" or a "choice" is a cheap trick – especially when considered against the "preferences" that reveal themselves when a real choice is possible. Take commercial surveillance: when Apple gave Ios users a choice about being spied on – a one-click opt of of app-based surveillance – 96% of users choice no spying:

https://arstechnica.com/gadgets/2021/05/96-of-us-users-opt-out-of-app-tracking-in-ios-14-5-analytics-find/

But then Apple started spying on those very same users that had opted out of spying by Facebook and other Apple competitors:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

Neoclassical economists aren't just obsessed with revealed preferences – they also love to bandy about the idea of "moral hazard": economic arrangements that tempt people to be dishonest. This is typically applied to the public ("consumers" in the contemptuous parlance of econospeak). But apps are pure moral hazard – for corporations. The ability to prohibit desire paths – and literally imprison rivals who help your users thwart those prohibitions – is too tempting for companies to resist.

The fact that the majority of web users block ads reveals a strong preference for not being spied on ("users just want relevant ads" is such an obvious lie that doesn't merit any serious discussion):

https://www.iccl.ie/news/82-of-the-irish-public-wants-big-techs-toxic-algorithms-switched-off/

Giant companies attained their scale by learning from their users, not by thwarting them. The person using technology always knows something about what they need to do and how they want to do it that the designers can never anticipate. This is especially true of people who are unlike those designers – people who live on the other side of the world, or the other side of the economic divide, or whose bodies don't work the way that the designers' bodies do:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/20/benevolent-dictators/#felony-contempt-of-business-model

Apps – and other technologies that are locked down so their users can be locked in – are the height of technological arrogance. They embody a belief that users are to be told, not heard. If a user wants to do something that the designer didn't anticipate, that's the user's fault:

https://www.wired.com/2010/06/iphone-4-holding-it-wrong/

Corporate enthusiasm for prohibiting you from reconfiguring the tools you use to suit your needs is a declaration of the end of history. "Sure," John Deere execs say, "we once learned from farmers by observing how they modified their tractors. But today's farmers are so much stupider and we are so much smarter that we have nothing to learn from them anymore."

Spying on your users to control them is a poor substitute asking your users their permission to learn from them. Without technological self-determination, preferences can't be revealed. Without the right to seize the means of computation, the desire paths never emerge, leaving designers in the dark about what users really want.

Our policymakers swear loyalty to "innovation" but when corporations ask for the right to decide who can innovate and how, they fall all over themselves to create laws that let companies punish users for the crime of contempt of business-model.

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/24/everything-not-mandatory/#is-prohibited

Image: Belem (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Desire_path_%2819811581366%29.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

[chrollogy]

EPISODE 2: CHOCOLATE GONE WRONG

neuvillette x f!reader

NNN ‘24 masterlist | Next Episode

DETAILS: Neuvillette finds himself itching to break the sacred rule of No Nut November after naïvely indulging in aphrodisiac-laced chocolates gifted by Sigewinne—a popular craze among young Fontanian adults.

DURATION: 5.3k

CONTENT ADVISORY: explicit smut, mdni, porn without plot, p in v, creampie, neuvi has two cocks + emphasis on his draconic features, use of aphrodisiacs (neuvillette), neuvi uses his cane as a makeshift leg spreader bar, pet names (ma/mon chérie, ma belle, (my) love), not beta read

DIRECTOR’S NOTES: divider: cafekitsune. round 2! also i’m not quite sure i will get the next two fics out in time (or if i’m getting them out at all) but i will try my best T_T. your lil moon is having a rough patch rn so yeah but nonetheless enjoy!

For Neuvillette, the month of November was nothing significant to say the least—his job continued, overseeing trials, sorting out documents, meeting with important people, and more workload now that Lady Furina had stepped down from archon hood; so, when you had come into his office one day, talking about how a certain trend spread like fire across Teyvat, Neuvillette was rather intrigued.

It had a weird name—No Nut November—and couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the idea based on the name alone. He remembered how you explained to him Fontanians, and people of other nations were to engage in No Nut November which was to participate in sexual abstinence.

Naturally, the idea was all bizarre to him—not because he thought he couldn’t do it but more so the fact that it was natural for humans to engage in intercourse, same goes for his kind as well. Neuvillette couldn’t see the significance of such a trend, and why humans were participating but who was he to deny your proposal of a challenge? After all, there was no harm involved, he figured it would help him understand human customs a little better despite the it’s strangeness in nature.

Situated behind his desk, Neuvillette let out a deep sigh, letting the papers in his hand fall onto the wooden desk beneath before rubbing his temples. 

“Stressed, Monsieur?” A familiar, teasing voice sliced through the suffocating silence of the Iudex’s office. Neuvillette looked up from his desk, greeted by a friendly figure. The former was too focused on the case materials before him that he hadn’t realised the presence of another, “Wriothesley. I’m rather surprised to see you.”

The raven-haired male was clad in his usual attire, heavy obsidian boots sounding with each step taken against the carpeted floors.

“Ah, you’re not the only one.” Wriothesley chuckled, recalling his encounter with Sedene just mere seconds ago, who looked like she had just seen a ghost. Before Neuvillette could inquire about the sudden visit, the former beat him to it,

“Don’t worry, I won’t take up much of your time. I’m here because Sigewinne had given me an errand to run. She got these for you.” Taking a couple steps closer to Neuvillette’s desk, Wriothesley placed a small box atop the case papers. Carefully wrapped in an ivory satin ribbon, the azure container was adorned with intricate designs in gold that shone beneath the afternoon sun, neatly decorated chocolates peeked from the plastic window of the lid.

The Chief Justice subtly raised his brows in amusement, he wasn’t one to indulge in chocolate nor was he a sweet tooth but nonetheless, he appreciated Sigewinne’s thoughtful gesture.

“That is very kind, please thank her for me.”

Watching the way Neuvillette’s expression morphed into a naïve smile, Wriothesley crossed his arms over his chest, “Say, Monsieur, have you heard of the craze among young Fontanian adults right now?” He most likely already knew the Iudex’s answer to the question but what was life without a little teasing?

With how the popular sweet has been making rounds across Fontaine, it would be near impossible for anyone to be clueless about it but at the end of the day, Neuvillette was Neuvillette, probably the busiest man in all of Fontaine which is why Sigewinne had to intervene with the chocolates. The head nurse didn’t have to physically see the Iudex to tell how much he’s been overworking himself nor was a simple order from her was going to stop him.

So, what better way to disguise a remedy with something simple? Basically akin to administering medication to a pet concealed as a tasty treat

Sexual intercourse was the fastest—and best—way to relieve him of his stress. Sigewinne hoped for the Iudex to pardon her complete brazenness but he was as stubborn as a rock, and took her orders about resting rather lightly.

Naturally, Neuvillette shook his head with a light chuckle, a tinge of interest seeping its way into his skin, “I believe I’ve heard her talk about it but the details must have slipped my mind.” A subtle blush blanketed the Chief Justice’s pale cheeks at the mention of his lover, you. Wriothesley’s lips stretched into a teasing smile—one which the former paid no attention to.

 “Well, would you ever try an aphrodisiac?” At Neuvillette’s baffled expression, the younger male bit the inside of his cheeks, biting back a hearty laugh. 

“An aphrodisiac, you say? Substances that—” “That increases one’s libido, yes.” Wriothesley cut him off, tease practically dripping from his tone. Neuvillette was a man capable of many things, an esteemed individual once he’s in court but when it came to much simpler matters, the Chief Justice was nothing but clueless, especially regarding human customs that are a bit harder to wrap one’s head around.

“I’m afraid I have no such time for trivial things.”

The Iudex shook his head once more, this time dismissively waving a gloved hand at his friend. He cleared his throat, the blush on his cheeks deepening into a crimson hue—Neuvillette wasn’t going to say it out loud, especially not in front of Wriothesley but he deemed himself more than capable of maintaining his sexual desires and performances, you were enough proof.

Wriothesley left it at that, his friend may just end up as red as a tomato if he prodded around the topic any further. Needless to say, amusement filled him to the brim, “Alright. It was nice chatting with you Monsieur. I believe Sigewinne also left a small note there—”

The latter looked down at the box. Indeed, there was a small piece of paper neatly folded and tucked beneath the ivory ribbon.

“—do heed her letter.” With that, Wriothesley dipped his chin, sauntering over to the double doors.

Reaching for the handle, the Duke stopped in his tracks, he looked over his shoulder, icy cerulean gaze full of mischief, “Oh, and I hope you two enjoy—the chocolates, I mean.” With that, he left the office, leaving Neuvillette to his thoughts.

The day went by rather quickly, the azure skies turning into golden hues of oranges and yellows as the sun bid farewell to its people, disappearing below the horizon. The chocolates from Sigewinne remained untouched on the corner of Neuvillette’s desk, it watched as stars decorated the night sky; though, as the Chief Justice retired for the evening, he grabbed the box of sweets before heading out.

Neuvillette figured he’d share them with you at home.

Greeted with silent darkness, he was suddenly reminded of your words this morning at breakfast: ‘Oh, I have work dinner later, my love; so, I won’t be eating here. We’re celebrating a company milestone.’ Conveniently enough, Neuvillette had already eaten at his office before leaving so he won’t have the pleasure of sitting across an empty seat at the dining table.

Getting ready for the chilly night ahead, Neuvillette changed into his evening attire after taking a warm bath, he donned silken azure pyjamas paired with a fluffy ivory robe. His silver strands cascaded down the length of his spine, the cerulean bow, and golden hair clips he usually wore were neatly tucked away inside his jewellery box.

Situated on the love seat, Neuvillette casually flipped through case documents inside a brown paper folder. The fireplace across him was ablazed with hues of oranges and reds, casting a citrine glow upon the dimly lit living room. As flames danced atop dry wood, the dulcet sound of classical music poured from the record player, filling the space with its tunes.

After minutes of skimming and scanning the documents, he reached for the box of sweets next to his lap, taking time to read Sigewinne’s carefully written note:

Monsieur Neuvillette, I’ve acquired these sweets for you, and her! I figured these would help you loosen up a little so please do not shy away from consuming as much as you want. Make sure to share them with her as well. Enjoy!

Love, Sigewinne

A warm smile spread across Neuvillette’s face, and despite his better judgement of waiting for you to come home and indulge in the taste of chocolate together, he figured one piece wouldn’t hurt to try alone, right?

With the moon high up in the obsidian night sky, you walked down the cobblestone footpath that led closer to yours and Neuvillette’s shared space, the evening breeze gently caressing the apple of your cheeks. Work dinner had just concluded at Hotel Debord which housed a lovely singer who put on a dazzling performance.

By now, the streets of the Court of Fontaine were more deserted as people retired to their homes for the night, shop owners here and there packed away their respective signage, their stores devoid of any customers.

With each step leading closer to home, you soon found yourself in front of your home, keys jingling between your fingers as you unlocked the front door. From the entrance hallway, warm hues greeted you like an embrace, hinting at the ablazed fireplace in the living room.

“My love? I’m home.” You called out to Neuvillette while skilfully removing your shoes, and neatly placed them beside his own.

Met with silence, you figured he either must be occupied with something or must have fallen asleep while waiting for your return. You sauntered over to the end of the entrance hallway, making your way to the living room, and as you got closer, melodic sounds engulfed your senses—you recognized it, Neuvillette’s favourite classical music.

Turning the corner, you were greeted with a rather interesting sight, a wave of concern washing over you,  “Neuvi—Are you okay?”

Seated on the love seat was Neuvillette, his left elbow propped on its arm rest, face hiding behind his hand. A deep crimson blush painted his handsome face, intensified by the reds and oranges that the fireplace emitted. He sat there looking flustered, chest heaving up and down as he took heavy breaths. Drinking in the view, you noticed documents sprawled across the empty space next to him but what really caught your eye was the intricately designed box resting on his right thigh.

The box had its lid intact yet the loose ivory ribbon draped over his thigh hinted he had previously opened it. Upon closer inspection, you realised it's familiar packaging, a co-worker had shown it to you the other day, telling you how her and her boyfriend have been dying to try the popular chocolates—chocolates laced with a potent aphrodisiac. 

Your gaze made its way back to Neuvillette—who was still breathing heavily on the love seat—now noticing the prominent tent beneath his silken pants, the azure fabric was flimsy and delicate which left little to your imagination. Pushing away the impure thoughts that snaked its way into your mind, you kneeled before your lover with a concerned expression,

“My love, who gave these to you?”

Knowing Neuvillette, he most likely consumed the chocolates without knowing its true contents simply because he wasn’t aware of the trivial things that humans indulged themselves in.

He let out a pained groan, shaky and vulnerable as he shifted in his seat, “Forgive me, ma chérie. This is improper of me.” With trembling hands, Neuvillette covered his throbbing groin, completely embarrassed that you had to see him in such a state. Truth be told, he didn’t know what came over him—a chocolate or two was all he had, and the next thing he knew, his skin burned like a thousand suns as blood rushed down, down, down to his cock.

The very core of Neuvillette’s body churned with desire—carnal desire—and as each second passed, each tick of the ivory wall clock, the uncomfortable yearn between his legs grew. A light sheen of sweat coated his feverish forehead, as though he was experiencing a fever, and whatever this was, it heightened all five of his senses.

From your voice sounding like it dripped with pure honey, all the way to the saccharine scent of your body, Neuvillette was driven mad with lust. It didn’t help how you kneeled before him, and gently caressed his thigh, a poor attempt of comfort because it brought nothing but waves of icy shudders down the length of his spine. Sensitive. His body was completely sensitive to any external stimuli, and if you rubbed his leg any further, he might just come undone.

An embarrassing thought.

Neuvillette was pathetically needy. How preposterous, the high esteemed Iudex of Fontaine reduced to nothing but a lust-driven man eager to shove his aching cock deep in your velvety walls. The subtle buck of his hips against the thick air; the way he swallowed breathless whimpers at your touch; the violent throbbing between his legs, he was beyond irredeemable.

With another grunt, Neuvillette panted out, “Sigewinne gifted them. Wriothesley had delivered it to my office this afternoon.”

Truth be told, you weren’t surprised. At all.

Standing up from your spot, you walked over to the wall phone. You tried your best to ignore the dainty whimper that fell from Neuvillette’s lips as your warm touch left his thigh, you also tried to ignore how his body involuntarily sought you out—trembling hands reaching to chase your gentle hold.

With glassy eyes, Neuvillette watched as you deftly dialled on the phone, he couldn’t help but trace your breathtaking figure, from the square of your shoulders all the way to the curves and dips of your legs. Oh, the things he’d do to spread them open, and inhale your sweet essence like a mad man. Neuvillette could practically taste your honey on his tongue, its velvety texture sliding down his throat.

Another groan escaped your lover at the thought of eating you out, his cock rubbed against the fabric of his underwear as it shamelessly twitched beneath his pants.

“Ah, I didn’t think you’d be calling given the . . . circumstances.” Of course Wriothesley knew. Pure tease dripped from his honeyed voice, most likely paired with a smug smile, and an icy, taunting gaze.

“Why would you give him that?!” 

A chuckle from the other end of the line, “First of all, I just delivered the present. Our head nurse here bought it. She’s helping Monsieur Neuvillette out.”

You huffed, trying to make sense of Sigewinne’s motives, “By what? Feeding him chocolates with a potent substance?” You’ve always adored how Sigewinne cared for her loved ones, especially Neuvillette—whatever one’s deal was, she was always willing to help out in her own unique way. But this . . giving him such a substance without any warning felt like foul play, and not only was Neuvillette receiving the short end of the stick, you were as well.

You weren’t naïve, aphrodisiacs only wore off after one has reached their satisfaction through sexual means, like quenching one’s thirst. 

“You’re making it sound like we gave him drugs.” “It is drugs, Wriothesley!”

Before you could say anything else, gentle, yearning arms wrapped around your front, caressing your stomach which ultimately caught you off guard. Neuvillette. Nuzzling into the junction of your neck just beneath the telephone against your ear, he placed hot, open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive spot, soft smacks of his lips loud enough for Wriothesley to pick up.

You bit back a moan, free hand coming up to rest on the wall to support your weight. Neuvillette’s kisses had your legs trembling, it left prominent goosebumps in its wake as he trailed further down to your shoulder blades.

“Hm. Looks like it's time for me to go. Pass on my best wishes to Monsieur Neuvillette.” And with that, he hung up the phone.

“My apologies, ma chérie. I just—I need you.” Neuvillette sighed, hot breath ghosting over your bare skin, akin to a gentle caress coaxing you into the borders of lust, like a lone finger protruding from the darkness, beckoning you to its endless, sinful void.

“Love—mhm!” You let out a yelp, his hands finding comfort on the curve of your hips, keeping them still as he slotted his clothed cock between your ass. Neuvillette grinded into you, unshameful and devoid of any decorum. Placing the telephone back on the wall, your nails dug into the hearts of your palms, just the feel of his hard cock had you embarrassingly wet already.

Neuvillette was different from this, despite his sexual urges, he was never forward with you, he took his time—sensual and sincere, treating you like the finest piece of gold to ever exist. But saying you weren’t enjoying his brazenness would be a complete lie. Seeing a different side to your lover put you in a rather sensitive state, almost like a virgin bedded for the first time.

Something primal had awoken deep inside his core, and the only way to handle it was to satiate his carnal thirst.

Nonetheless, you tried to get your point across, “Neuvi . . What you’re experiencing is the effect of an aphrodisiac from those chocolates Sigewinne gave you.”

Your words fell deaf on his pointed ears, instead, Neuvillette mumbled some of his own, “I’m sorry . . Ma belle, I promised you about that challenge but it seems I cannot fight my urges any longer.” Another shaky sigh left his rosy lips.

Challenge? Oh.

Oh.

Even in his lust-driven state, Neuvillette was still thinking about the No Nut November challenge you had proposed earlier this month.

“I’m a man of my word but I need you, my love. Let me break the rules just this once, please?” Pure desperation coated every word that came out of his mouth. It was thick like honey, and melted on your skin like snow. God, at this point the stupid challenge wasn’t even on your mind anymore, not when he desperately humped your ass like an animal in heat—quick, little ruts of his hips that soothed the ache a bit better.

Who were you to deny your lover?

The transition from the living room to the shared bedroom was a blur—everything was hasty; desperate hands exploring each other’s bodies; lips sealed together in a rough, passionate kiss; a trail of clothes messily discarded on the floor leading up to the room. Everything Neuvillette did had you on your toes, completely breathless while trying to mirror his hurried actions.

Normally, Neuvillette would bask in your serene glory, peeling clothes off from your body layer by layer, and decorating your exposed skin with butterfly kisses. He’d gently stroke your hair, slender fingers weaving through the strands as he takes in your bare beauty.

Now, his tongue swiftly explored your mouth—lengthy and thick—something he has never done before. It dizzied you.

You landed on the foot of the plush mattress with a soft gasp as Neuvillette pulled away. Breathless and flustered, you stared up at him through your lashes, soft pants escaping your kissed lips. The sight before him made his cock twitch. How your hair was splayed around your head, mimicking a soft halo, a divine being greater than he.

Neuvillette discarded the last two pieces of clothing—pants and underwear—in one fell swoop, and what came into view undoubtedly had you clenching around nothing. Standing proud and heavy at the base of his abdomen were his cocks, both painted in a deep vermillion hue, and generously leaking pre-cum. The sticky pearlescent substance coated his bulbous tips, it glistened beneath the moonlight, beckoning you to wrap your lips around them, and have a feast.

This wasn’t the first time you saw Neuvillette naked nor were you not aware of his kind but it always brought you shock every time, not to mention the faint cerulean scales the underside of his cocks boasted, it was also his sensitive spot.

Stepping out from the puddle of fabric around his ankles, Neuvillette did the same to your undergarments, mindlessly tossing them elsewhere in the room. A low growl sounded from his chest as he pried your legs apart, his deft hands guided them to bend at the knees while resting the soles of your feet on the edge of the mattress, putting your glistening cunt on full display.

In less than a heartbeat, Neuvillette was on his knees, his eager tongue lapping along the length of your slit, your arousal pooled at the tip of his tongue like sinful honey, the divine taste of your cunt prompting another shameless growl from your lover. He repeated the movement a couple of times, each lick reaching closer and closer to your sensitive clit, and when he finally reached it with his hardened tongue, you let out a surprised gasp.

“Neuvillette!”

Shocks of electrifying pleasure kissed its way up your spine as Neuvillette tongued at your swollen bud—tight, fast circles, up and down, side to side, he toyed with you like it was the only thing he knew how to do. Your hands immediately flew to his ivory tresses due to his ministrations, it was almost like playing a game of tug of war, indecisively pushing and pulling his, unsure if you wanted more or if you wanted him to stop and slow down.

Lewd, wet smacks of Neuvillette’s tongue mixed with his low growls filled the room, allowing you to bask in the sounds of pleasure your lover unabashedly made. Almost akin to a vicious beast swallowing down its prey.

As your back arched off the mattress, and the grip on Neuvillette’s hair tightening, he pulled away, earning a rather disappointed whine to fall from your lips. Sweet arousal abundantly coated his lips and chin, bringing warmth to your cheeks. No one in the room dared to say it but this was the first time your cunt got embarrassingly wet, not that Neuvillette was inadequate in bed per se but you were wetter than usual, and you were confident that he had also noticed.

The glow of his lilac eyes and cerulean feelers were proof enough.

Standing up to his feet, Neuvillette languidly stroked the cock that sat beneath the other one, an immodest gaze raking over your sopping cunt, and how it shamelessly dripped with sticky arousal enough to soil the ivory sheets beneath.

“Are you ready, ma chérie?” Neuvillette’s lilac stare captured you in a haze, absentmindedly nodding at his words as though you were rendered speechless.

He slowly rubbed the tip of his bottom cock before pushing it past your soaked folds, it eagerly swallowed him in—a loud, shameless squelch filling your ears as he stretched you open further. Your toes curled at the sensation, hips immediately bucking into him as you moaned his name. The stretch was a pleasurable burn, one that had you rolling your eyes back, and digging your nails onto the sheets a little harder. Neuvillette was able to easily slip into you, courtesy of the plentiful slick that coated your velvety walls.

Neuvillette stilled as he bottomed out, quick, short pants falling from his rosy lips. God, you always took him so, so well, he could never get enough of the feeling of warmth wrapped around his cock. You took this time to get used to the stretch, your muscles relaxing to lessen the resistance he felt. Neuvillette filled you up so well you could almost feel him in your stomach—a thought that had you clenching around him.

One, two, three seconds later, Neuvillette slowly pulled back, letting out a shaky breath at the pleasurable sensation. And with only his cock head inside you, he took no time to slam all the way inside. You moaned, hands flying to his bare shoulders, immediately marking his pale skin with crimson stripes. Neuvillette unabashedly keened at the clench of your cunt around him, knees buckling as you gripped his cock like a vice, making it harder for him to move in and out.

“Haah! Mhm! Neuvi—right there, my love!” Colourful moans and whimpers urged Neuvillette on, dragging him further and further to the state of insanity. “You feel divine, ma belle . .” The words came out as a choked sob—pathetic and dainty. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead paired with a deep crimson blush that painted his cheeks, if anything, Neuvillette looked absolutely ethereal in this state despite how out of it the aphrodisiacs made him.

Not only were his cocks extra sensitive to touch but he could also perfectly smell the scent of your sex that lingered in the air. That sweet, sinful aroma he knew oh so well.

It made his head spin.

He tried holding back, he really did but your dulcet moans stroked his growing ego, and the feel of your sopping cunt deliciously sliding against him, the last thread of sanity that held him snapped.

Violently.

As if he saw nothing but bright hues of ruby, Neuvillette picked up his pace, long thrusts quickly turning into short ones as he mercilessly pistoned his hips over and over again, allowing his cock head to reach your sweet spot. Your fingers raked down the length of his spine—leaving violent ribbons of red in its wake—stopping right at the dimples of his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks as you dug onto the pale skin there. Neuvillette wasn’t the only one on the brink of insanity with how the underside of his other cock furiously rubbed at your swollen clit with each thrust, it rested at the hood of your cunt, thick and heavy.

“S-so good! It feels so good—ngh!” The thrust of his hips felt amazing, too amazing to the point where your body started to reject them. Your body entered fight or flight mode, parted knees instinctively closing together which only allowed an inconvenient amount of room for Neuvillette to move with.

Upon noticing the change, he slowed down, sweaty palms resting on either knee, “My love—haah . . Open up for me, would you?” Winded and weak, Neuvillette attempted to pry your knees apart to no avail considering his mushy state.

“Too much, mon chérie . . I—I can’t.” Neuvillette shook his head at your words before pulling out, leaving you confused and empty. From the mattress, you watched as he sauntered over to his side of the bed, grabbing a lengthy, obsidian object that rested against his nightstand. Before a question could even formulate in your mind, he returned to his spot in the blink of an eye; though, this time, with something in his hand.

A cane—his cane. The same one he used during court proceedings, in that context, it was deemed a sacred symbolism of his authority as the Iudex of Fontaine.

To use it in such a setting would be borderline blasphemy.

Hovering over your trembling body, Neuvillette placed chaste kisses on each knee, “Do you trust me, my dear?” Was that even a question? Of course you did. He wouldn’t harm you and you believed that completely.

With a soft touch, Neuvillette was able to easily pry your knees apart, the scent of your cunt once again filling his senses. He wordlessly slotted the obsidian cane beneath your knees, its surface cool against your feverish skin, you shuddered at the contrast in temperature. Neuvillette pushed down on the shaft of the cane, bringing your knees closer to your chest—you also noticed how it kept your legs still, meaning you had no option to close them.

You whimpered at the slight burn the position invited, especially with the cane pressing down on your soft skin. And once again, Neuvillette sheathed his cock inside your cunt before setting the same merciless pace. Only this time, you wouldn’t be able to deny him.

“Neuvi! Neuvi! Neuvi—aah! Fuck—mhm!” You held on to the ivory sheets above your head for your dear life as Neuvillette roughly pistoned his hips. With each relentless thrust given, your body jolted further up the mattress, breasts bouncing in full display for your lover to drink in. Oh, how he adored the way your naked body moved and reacted to him, so plush and pliant.

Sharp hisses from the bed frame interlaced with the pornographic sounds of your moans, creating a lewd melody for the moon to witness, a sinful song only for the darkness of the night to hear—full of heat and passion.

“Does—ngh! Does it feel good, my love? Will you give in to the—haah! To the pleasure I’m giving you?” Neuvillette curled over himself, tresses of ivory cascading down to cage your face as he leaned closer to you. Despite the blur of your vision, you noticed the faint azure scales that decorated the side of his neck along with his pupils becoming more animalistic.

Neuvillette’s draconic features only ever made itself known during his heat; so, this came as a genuine surprise to you. Not that you were really complaining.

His hand remained on his cane while the other found comfort on your hip, subtly guiding your body onto him to meet each thrust. Neuvillette met your gaze through a glossy stare, you watched as beads of crystalline-like tears formed on the corners of his eyes, eventually rolling down his reddened cheeks. The sight before you was beyond divine, it wasn’t every day one would see the Chief Justice in such a poor state, his usual expressionless face painted with a colourful expression.

One that unmistakably screamed how lost he was in pleasure: rosy lips parted to let out soft whimpers, brows tightly knitted together, creating a deep crease between his brows.

“Are you close ma chérie? Mhm—aah! Come with me?” Neuvillette breathed out. It took all of his will power to hold himself up, and keep his hips moving due to immense pleasure weighing on his body like a great burden. The feeling had him trembling to his very bones, like a yellow autumn leaf braving the evening winds, and no matter how much his brain screamed at him to stop, he didn’t.

The pleasure would be too great of a loss if Neuvillette stopped now; so, he kept going—pounding, rutting, and grinding into you as he chased both your impending orgasms.

You nodded vigorously, throat too dry from all that panting to choke out any coherent words. The burn of the position you maintained mixed with Neuvillette’s cocks stimulating your cunt sent you into a painful yet pleasurable overdrive.

Without a second thought, you hastily placed your hands between your bodies, blindly seeking out Neuvillette’s other cock, and wrapping your fingers around it. To the best of your ability, you vigorously pumped his shaft, matching your strokes with his thrusts.

Neuvillette shuddered, releasing a loud moan into the damp air. After a few more quick thrusts, he stilled deep inside you, sealing his lips with yours as you both reached your climax, eagerly swallowing one another’s lewd moans. Your back arched off the mattress, toes curling, and fingers digging into Neuvillette’s skin as you violently came, the feel of his thick, hot cum painting your plush walls white had your hips bucking into him, begging for more.

Embarrassingly enough, Neuvillette came a lot. Not only inside you—to the point where it spilled out of your cunt and onto the sheets below—but also on you. The cock you’ve been stroking spurted thick ribbons of cum on your abdomen, abundantly covering your skin in his essence. He looked at the filthy art that decorated your skin, colourful curses enough to make Fontainians gasp in shock filled his mind.

How beautiful you were marked by him.

“Did I hurt you in any way?” He asked, slowly peeling himself away from you. Neuvillette made sure to quickly remove his cane from under your knees, placing it flat on the floor before tending to you. He kissed your sweaty forehead, and pulled your bodies up the mattress with your head atop the fluffy pillows.

“Not at all but I have to say, I was reaaally looking forward to completing the challenge, mon chérie.” You joked, letting out a breathless laugh.

Neuvillette blushed, suddenly remembering how he readily accepted the proposal of your challenge . . What was it again? No Nut November?

“Another year is to be expected, I am determined we will overcome the challenge.” And you were looking forward to that. Very much so. You just hoped he wouldn’t consume another aphrodisiac-laced sweet in the coming year so the both of you could actually complete the challenge.

Well, at least you concluded that Neuvillette and aphrodisiacs weren’t such a bad match, right?

Looks like you had a certain head nurse to thank. —

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Golden Cufflinks | JJK

▻ Golden Cufflinks ↳ Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!f.Reader ⤜ Best Friend's Fiance, Strangers to True Mates ⤜ A/B/O AU | angst, smut, fluff ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 11,742 ⤜ Summary: You’ve never given much thought to finding your true mate, firmly believing it’s something that will happen when it happens. But, when you do find him—thanks to a pair of golden cufflinks—it very well could ruin everything. They say not all’s fair in love and war; you just hadn’t expected your best friend’s wedding to be the battleground. ⚠️ Crass language, talk of designation hierarchy, mild talk of misogynistic practices of the past, confessions of cheating(not by main pairing), anger/arguments, kissing, dick sucking, mild cum intrigue, maybe mild breeding kink if you squint, unprotected v. sex, knotting, lots of slick and cum

Written for @hisunshiine as part of the 2nd Quarter 2023 @bangtanwritershq Awards Season! A/N: Congratualtions, Vanessa. You deserve all the kudos for a job well done during the 2nd Quarter 2023, I hope you enjoy the story!

A special thank you to @downbad4yoongi, @lo1k-diamonds, @moonleeai for the amazing beta services!

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

Nerves flutter in your belly as you gather your belongings from the plastic bin at the end of the rolling conveyor belt on the other side of security. As you walk away, your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you have to juggle your purse and jacket to retrieve it.

You feel bad for making Hayun, your best friend for as long as you can remember, wait for a response, but you desperately just want to find your gate and have a seat first. Once you find it and settle in at a chair by the big windows looking out on the tarmac, you thumb to her contact.

“If I didn’t love you so much, I’d probably hate you right now for making me wait so long for a response,” Hayun sasses before her voice softens, “Hello, I love you.”

“Love you, too, girl,” you say, unable to help the smile that tilts your lips up. “Sorry, I’ve been MIA for the last few hours. Things have been hectic. I misplaced my passport this morning, but I finally found it under the bed and then missed the hotel shuttle. I had to call a rideshare, but of course, it took them forever to get through airport traffic, and ugh…” you trail off with a sigh. “I’m sitting down for the first time since I woke up this morning.”

Which was approximately four hours ago at this point. Your flight is set to take off less than an hour from now, so you imagine boarding might start soon. You’re not exaggerating when you say it’s been hectic. It was bad enough waking up at 3 AM, but you’re a chronic planner and stickler for time, so missing your flight was the absolute last thing you wanted to happen.

“Oh, babe, that sucks. I’m glad it’s all worked out, though. I really can’t wait to see you!”

The conversation passes quickly, easing your heart and mind as you catch up on the last twenty-four hours. You haven’t seen Hayun in a handful of years. Her career took her to the other side of the world, and yours kept you where you both grew up. The last time you saw her was through a haze of tears at this very airport when she boarded a plane destined for Seoul, South Korea, where she was adopted from at just two years old.

Visiting each other was always something you both talked about. But, as with most things, life just happens, and eventually, you find yourself making that visit you always talked about for reasons you never considered before—like your best friend tying the knot with a guy you’ve never met.

Sure, you’ve seen pictures of him and have heard him talk in the background of most of the phone calls you’ve exchanged with Hayun over the last few years. But, it was never on your friendship bingo card that the next time you’d find yourself seeing your best friend, it would be her at her wedding.

“I gotta go. They’re about to start boarding.”

“I’ll see you when you land. Can’t wait!”

Hayun disconnects the call, and you gather your belongings to prepare to line up in the boarding queue. It will be a long flight, but seeing Hayun again after so long apart will be worth it.

You fiddle with the bracelet on your left wrist, twisting and pinching at the silver moon charm dangling from the thin chain. Hayun has a matching one. They were presents from your parents on the day you were both recognized with your designations; she was thirteen, and you were fifteen.

The dynamics of Alphas and Omegas have long since changed from what it once was. Legend has it that once upon a time, an Alpha and an Omega were closer to their wolf-kin than how the world is now. Thanks to evolution and science, the only things remaining from that time are the more basic bodily functions—scents, knots, and slick, to sum it up.

The crescent charm on your wrist symbolizes your designation—Omega. But being an Omega doesn’t hold much meaning for you. You don’t feel all that special, and it’s not like you’re rare or any more or less capable than the next person. As it stands, you can see at least a dozen other moons jangling from bracelets, waiting to board the same plane you are.

There are also necklaces, tattoos, and other ways to display a designation scattered around the waiting area. The how of it is mostly regional, sometimes generational. The Beta standing behind you in the queue has a teardrop earring dangling from their left ear, and if it weren’t for the pheromone blockers you took this morning, you might be able to smell their unique scent.

You also have your own smell, a scent that is just you. You’ve been told it’s a sweet, citrusy bouquet like lemonade on a hot summer afternoon. However, also thanks to the blockers, it remains suppressed to the point someone would have to make you bleed or press their nose so firmly against your throat it hurts to smell it.

There really is only one thing that a lot of people are envious of when it comes to an Omega’s designation, and that is that they supposedly have an Alpha true mate out there somewhere that will call to their baser nature. It’s such a rare phenomenon these days that it might as well be part of the legends of old, too.

The bottom line is that no one cares about subgenders anymore; it doesn't matter whether your charm is the Omega crescent, the teardrop of a Beta, or the triskelion denoting an Alpha. In fact, you’re pretty sure you could ask the Beta for their earring and offer them your charm bracelet and no one would bat an eye over it.

Though you’d never do that, considering the chain around your wrist isn’t technically yours. The night after you presented as Omega, when you snuck away with Hayun to lay on a blanket under the stars and moon that was so like the charm hanging from your twin bracelets, you giggled as you exchanged them. Her tiny fingers trembled against your wrist as she secured her silver chain around it. You did the same with your own around hers a second later.

It was that night that you both swore always to be friends. No matter what happened in life or where either of you ended up, you would always remain true to one another. So far, your friendship has been unfailing, a constant thread of comfort and light for you both. No matter how long it’s been, the charm still smells faintly of your best friend—a perk of the charms themselves, holding a token essence of their owners. Hers holds a soft lilac and jasmine scent that you’ve always thought complimented your own citrus notes.

The flight attendant scanning boarding passes beckoning you forward breaks you out of your internal reflections. With a full heart and giddy anticipation curling in your belly, you find your seat and settle in.

It’s a long flight, longer than most flights you’ve taken. But when you finally walk off the plane, make it through customs and immigration, and finally empty into the arrivals terminal of the Incheon Airport, you feel immediate relief, and the hours spent in the air don’t seem so bad.

“Hey, over here!” a familiar voice calls out, catching your attention.

You spin on your heel, confusion setting in for just a moment before it’s replaced by another wave of relief and a little of something warmer. Taehyung, Hayun’s adopted brother, swamps you in a giant bear hug that quite literally sweeps you off of your feet.

“Wow, hey. This is a surprise. What are you doing here? Where’s Hayun?”

Taehyung scrunches up his face, letting out a small scoff. “It’s a good surprise, I hope. Something came up, and she had to meet with the wedding planner and caterer at the last minute. She called me and asked if I could pick you up.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah,” you confirm with a smile. “Good surprise.”

It’s no secret that you’ve always been fond of Taehyung. As a baby, you were toddling around with him long before his family adopted Hayun. She ended up being the sister you never knew you needed, even if you were a few years older.

When she moved to Seoul for work, Taehyung ended up being the physical representation that took her place. He flew out a week before you to help her with planning and will stay for a few weeks after you’ve already headed back home. They may have had their differences over the years, but their sibling bond is stronger than petty arguments and rivalries.

“Ready to get on the road? It’s a long drive.”

Hours later, with the rolling countryside and farms dotting the horizon, you discover the fiasco inside your backpack. The bottle of pheromone blockers you packed this morning somehow got shuffled to the bottom of your bag and popped open. The once-powder-filled capsules litter the bottom of your bag, broken open. Pale blue powder coats your things, the mild flower smell of the medicine lingering in the air.

“Fucking hell,” you groan. “Any chance there’s a clinic somewhere between here and where we’re going?”

“Unfortunately, no.” He frowns, drumming his fingers lightly on the steering wheel, making the triskelion signet ring on his index finger glitter in the mid-day sun. “We’d probably have to turn around and head nearly three hours back to get anywhere near a clinic with blockers. I'm told most people don’t use them anymore these days here. Maybe another one of the wedding party might have some you could borrow if you really need them. But, honestly, I don’t see anyone minding if you don’t use them.”

“Most people here don’t use them anymore?”

“Well, yeah, with the progression of equality and things like that. They’re so great here, way more progressive than back home. It’s very common for Omegas to go off of blockers or never even begin them. Laws have been implemented to punish Alphas who can’t control themselves. The responsibility of remaining safe shouldn’t be solely set on the shoulders of the Omega population.”

Talk like that has only recently become popular back home. You’ve heard the speeches and followed the media and the sources, but you suppose after nearly half of your life taking blockers, it just comes naturally to continue to do so.

“Hm, yeah, okay. I guess it’s no big deal, really. As long as you’re sure people won’t mind?”

Taehyung sniffs the air, his nose twitching. “I think you smell great, but just in case not everyone does, if someone says something, then I’ll personally drive all the way back to the city and pick you up some,” Taehyung promises, giving you one of his swoon-worthy smiles.

The crush you once upon a time had on Taehyung threatens to spark anew at the sight of his charming, boxy grin—a grin you would have once done anything to pull from him. But now, it just fills you with warmth and a homey comfort.

You give him a smile of your own. “Deal.”

“Hayun!”

Her squeal of delight when she turns around and catches sight of you echoes through the open space of the dimly lit bar of the bed and breakfast where the wedding is taking place.

It’s a cozy space with rich dark wood accents and royal blue velvet upholstery. Brass gas lamps and light fixtures give the entire lounge an upscale and chic atmosphere that you know is right up Hayun’s alley.

The few hours you had between checking in at the bed and breakfast and meeting Hayun for her very small—just you and one other person—bachelorette party were spent familiarizing yourself with the grounds.

The ceremony will take place in one of the lavish gardens, and the reception will follow in one of the grand dining halls. For a bed and breakfast, it’s far fancier than any you’ve ever been to. It definitely does not have the mom-and-pop feel that you typically associate with the term ‘B&B’.

“You’re here!” she shrills, throwing her arms around your neck.

Her petite form fits just like it always has against yours. Thick black hair, shorter than the last time you saw it, curls around the rounded lines of her cheeks, and her brown eyes are bright and glisten with happy tears. With her bubbly personality and small, wispy frame, she's always reminded you of a fairy.

You sigh, taking a deep breath and savoring your best friend's soft, floral scent. Thanks to the bracelet tinkling around her wrist, it holds the smallest undercurrent of your sweet citrus. Clearly, she’s not taking blockers; the scents are heavy and delightful. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Hayun sucks in a deep breath that mirrors yours. “Wow, babe, you smell good! Finally gone off the blockers, huh?”

“Uh, kind of,” you chuckle, untangling yourself from her arms. “I brought some, but they broke open in my bag at some point.” You shrug. “Tae said it shouldn’t be that big of a deal.”

“Oh, it’s not. Absolutely not,” Hayun agrees, grinning broadly. “I’ve been off them for years and haven’t had a single issue. Come on, let’s have a drink and catch up!”

You settle in at a table, and it’s not long before Eunseo, Hayun’s other guest, joins you. You’ve heard a lot about Eunseo. Much the same way Taehyung took the place of Hayun for you, Eunseo took your place for Hayun. You half expect to feel some sort of friendship jealousy upon meeting Eunseo for the first time, but it doesn’t come. If anything, you’re immediately fond of the young woman.

The evening carries on, Hayun and Eunseo regaling you with tales from working together and their various adventures around Seoul. Eunseo shows genuine interest in your life back home, seeming eager to hear stories of Hayun’s childhood. She shows a particular interest in Taehyung, asking you in no certain terms more than you think is appropriate to share.

“But you’ve seen it, right?” Eunseo asks. Her elbows rest on the table, and her chin is nestled on her clasped hands, her eyes wide and glassy from the countless glasses of wine she’s had. “I bet it’s huge. Am I right?”

“Ugh,” Hayun groans. “Can we not talk about my brother’s dick. Please.” She makes a gagging sound before slurping down the rest of her cocktail and flagging down a passing waiter for another.

You try to wave off the waiter, but he’s turned toward the bar before you can get his attention. If Hayun has much more to drink, you’re not sure she’ll be able to walk down the aisle tomorrow unassisted.

“I’m just curious. It’s a harmless question,” Eunseo pouts. “Ignore her. Tell me. I just have to know.”

You swirl the straw around in your glass of water before giving Eunseo what you hope is a conspiratorial look. “Well—”

“What?! Ew. Are you really about to answer her? Please, dear god, do not tell me you have seen my brother’s penis. If you’ve seen it—fuck, I might actually puke.”

As much as you probably shouldn’t, you laugh, which earns further protests and obscene noises from Hayun.

“Before you interrupted me, I was going to say that maybe Eunseo should ask him herself.”

Hayun howls a protest, sloshing her new cocktail onto the table as she gesticulates a crude hand gesture in your direction. “Do not. I repeat, do not do that, Eunseo!”

The conversation peters off, Hayun losing herself in another cocktail while Eunseo stares dreamily up at the ceiling.

“I think—hiccup—it's bedtime,” Eunseo slurs.

As if right on cue, a familiar face peeks through the entrance to the lounge. You wave Taehyung down, and he comes jogging across the space to your table. His shirt is rumpled with the top few buttons undone, but his eyes are clear, and you know he’ll be a perfect gentleman.

“Are you sure?” you ask him, pitching your voice low.

“I got this, don’t worry. We finished up a few hours ago anyway.”

Taehyung gives you a warm, private smile before turning to Eunseo. “Hey there, beautiful. Let’s get you on to bed, okay?”

“Where’s my savior?” Hayun asks, frowning after her brother escorting Eunseo from the lounge and back through the front lobby.

“Right here,” you tell her, sliding out of your chair and coming around to her side of the table. “Come on, let’s go.”

It takes you more than twice as long as it usually would to get to Hayun’s room. She leans against the wall in the hall as you dig through her pockets in search of her room key. Once you find it tucked between a few stray bills and her ID, you usher her into the room and deposit her onto the bed.

Her fiance has a room on the other side of the grounds, but after the ceremony, they will both be moving into one of the couple’s suites for the night before jet-setting off to Jeju Island for their week-long honeymoon.

“Am I doing the right thing?”

Hayun’s question catches you off guard. You throw a confused look at her over your shoulder as you rummage through her suitcase in search of something for her to sleep in.

“What?”

She sighs as she rolls over, letting her head hang off the edge of the bed so she can look at you upside down. “Marrying Jungkook. It’s a mistake…so why am I doing it?”

“Hayun…what are you talking about? Jungkook is perfect for you. You guys have been dating for five years, and you told me you’ve never been happier. Where’s the mistake in that?”

The sound Hayun makes is akin to something a wounded animal might make. She flops, flailing her arms and legs like a child throwing a fit.

“That’s the thing, though! I’m happy, but I don’t love him. Oh god,” she cries. “I don’t love him.”

“Hey, hey now.” You abandon the search for sleeping clothes and crawl across the floor until you’re kneeling beside the bed. Smoothing your hand across her forehead, you ask, “Where is all this coming from?”

“He thinks I’m his true mate,” she whispers. The tears leaking from her eyes slide up her face, wetting the edges of her eyebrows before sliding over her forehead and disappearing into her hair. “But I know he’s not mine.”

“Wh—wait, what?” You push up from the floor and move onto the bed, gathering your best friend’s head into your lap so she’s no longer hanging upside down off the side of the bed.

She hiccups a sob, lips trembling as she explains, “He says I’m his true mate, that he knows because of my scent. But he doesn’t smell special to me…how is that possible?”

“Hayun, I don’t—”

“I cheated on him,” she whimpers in confession, cutting off what were going to be your soothing words of affirmation. They sour on your tongue, refusing to be released now.

Your stomach churns at her admittance. “You what?”

“You have every right to judge me. I’m a terrible person. But, when he told me I was his true mate…I panicked. I had to be sure I wasn’t broken, that me not finding his scent special wasn’t just something wrong with me.” Hayun blinks rapidly, trying to clear the tears as they begin to come in earnest. She clutches at the front of her shirt, hand fisting over her heart. “So, I slept with two Alphas that I work with to see if it was any different. I had to be sure. I had to know.”

“Hayun, I-I-I don’t…I’m not—”

“I’m such a fucking mess,” she sobs, curling in on you and pressing her face against your stomach. “I don’t deserve him. I only said yes to marrying him because I don’t want to be alone forever. I can’t be like you. I need someone.”

Her words sting, causing you to flinch involuntarily. You watch as she falls apart in your lap, ultimately giving in to her grief. It’s on the tip of your tongue to call her out on her childish behavior, to set the record straight about your own love life, and to leave her to her wallowing. But…the shaking of her shoulders and soft whines from her remind you so much of a younger and more fragile Hayun—the Hayun of your shared childhoods.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” No matter how you might feel about her actions and the hurtful words she’s spilled, you hate to see your best friend so distraught and broken. “Hey, look at me.”

You wait until her watery eyes peel away from your shirt and meet yours. “Tell me you hate me; it’s okay.”

“Hayun, I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. You made…a mistake, that’s all. You were trying to figure things out. But…Hayun, you…you have to tell him.”

She frowns up at you, her expression sobering. “Tell him?”

“He’s about to marry you, Hayun. That’s a big freaking deal…you have to tell him tomorrow morning before anything else happens.”

The laugh that bubbles from her lips is anything but humorous. “I-I can’t do that! He’ll hate me. He’ll call the wedding off!” She shoves out of your lap and stares at you like you’ve lost your mind.

“If Jungkook truly loves you and says you’re his true mate, I don’t see that happening. But, he deserves to know. You have to know that. Either you tell him now, or he finds out years from now, and then it’ll be so much worse,” you try to reason with her.

“He doesn’t have to know!” she whisper-yells, her tears turning from sad to angry in an instant.

You shake your head, unable to believe what you’re hearing from her. “This isn’t right, Hayun. You can’t go into a marriage with someone with secrets like that!”

“It’s not like it’ll happen again. I’m not going to cheat on him while we’re married. Please,” she begs, her face once more softening into saddened anguish. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“He deserves to know, Hayun,” you whisper, remembering your own keen sting of betrayal from many years ago. There is a reason you don’t date much. “You say it won’t happen again?” you ask, trying to buy yourself some time to process everything Hayun just told you.

Her silence is deafening, and you think she’s about to not answer you the way you hope, but, finally, she murmurs, “No. Never. I swear it.”

“Okay. Okay, good. But, he still needs to know.”

Just because you’ve never actually met Jungkook, it doesn’t mean you don’t care for him. He’s the one who puts a smile on Hayun’s face when you can’t. He’s the reason she’s as happy as she is…or has been? Now, you’re not so sure. But, what you are certain about is that Hayun is far too drunk right now to know up from down and is just having a moment of raw vulnerability.

“Are you going to tell him?” she asks, voice a hoarse whisper.

You chew your bottom lip for a moment before slowly shaking your head. Thinking about it, even if you didn’t care for Jungkook, he still deserves to know on pure principle. “No. I won’t tell him.” She lets out a soft sigh of relief, which has you tacking on, “Because it’s not my place to tell him, it’s yours.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles. “Okay.” She doesn’t say anything more beyond that, falling into a listless stupor, all of her energy sapped from the quick argument and endless cocktails from the bar.

After you wrestle her out of her clothes and put on a long nightgown, she tucks easily into bed. You leave a glass of water on the bedside table for her, then exit the room and head to your own.

A pang of uncertainty refuses to quell in the pit of your stomach. You toss and turn most of the night, falling into a fitful sleep just before the sun begins to kiss the horizon. It’s going to be a long day…a battle of wills you never saw coming.

🥀🥀🥀

Jungkook

Today is the big day, and Jungkook couldn’t be happier. Nothing could possibly bring him down from the high he’s feeling. Not even the fact that he is unable to find the cufflinks that were passed down to him by his father.

“Did you check the pockets of all your pants?” Jimin, Jungkook’s best friend, asks from where he’s lounging in one of the chairs on the other side of Jungkook’s hotel room.

“Yes,” he mutters, dumping his entire suitcase onto the bed to rifle through it once again. “I remember putting them with the pile of Hayun’s—oh fuck.”

“That’s great,” Taehyung sighs. “So my sister probably has them.” He checks his watch. “We don’t really have time to go on a scavenger hunt through her room. Jimin and I are supposed to meet the photographer to get started on some of the bride and groomsmen shots.”

Jungkook purses his lips and rakes his hands through his hair as he thinks of a solution. “I’d go look myself, but what if I run into Hayun between here and there? She specifically requested that we not see each other until the ceremony.”

Taehyung hums lightly. “I think I have an idea. The other girls don’t meet for pictures until after we’re done. So…yeah…okay…done,” he murmurs, tapping away at his phone screen. “If they’re in Hayun’s things, they’ll be delivered to you soon.”

“Thanks, Taehyung, you’re a lifesaver.”

Minutes later, Jungkook finds himself alone, Taehyung and Jimin having gone to meet with the photographer. Somewhere out there, beyond the confines of his room, his fiancee is probably smiling and laughing as she poses in front of the camera. If only Jungkook could see through walls. He’d give anything for even just a little glimpse of his bride-to-be.

When Jungkook first met Hayun almost six years ago, he nearly tripped over his own feet trying to track her scent. The meeting he was heading for was instantly forgotten, replaced by a visceral need to discover the source of that titillating aroma that had his hindbrain firing on all cylinders.

Never before had Jungkook experienced something so…primal. It was both alarming and utterly fascinating. Amongst the harsh scents of car exhaust and the warm notes of roasted coffee, Jungkook wove his way through the crowd on the sidewalk to the doors of a little cafe; Hayun was inside, ordering a matcha tea to-go, and the rest was history.

Jungkook sighs, forcing himself to stop daydreaming and fiddling with his shirt's empty cuffs and focus on putting together the rest of his suit.

The scent hits Jungkook a moment before the sound of a soft knock reaches his ears. He’s standing in the ensuite bathroom, mid-skin care routine. Wiping his wet fingers off onto a towel, he draws in a deep breath to confirm the aroma wafting to him from beyond the door of his room.

A roguish smirk quirks up one side of his mouth as he exits the bathroom and moves across the room. Unable to help himself, he opens the door. “Hayun,” he chuckles, fingers wrapping around the doorknob, “I thought we agreed that you…you are not Hayun.” The words tumble from his suddenly numb lips, rasping past his too-dry tongue.

“Umm, no. Not Hayun, sorry. You’re Jungkook?”

The woman standing before him is clearly not his fiancee. The woman’s purple gown is familiar, Jungkook knowing it’s what Hayun chose for her attending party. You’re a friend of Hayun, clearly, yet you smell exactly like Hayun…if Hayun smelled like Hayun times a thousand. The fragrance slams into his olfactory system, and the edges of his vision grow blurry a moment before he shakes his head and steadies himself with a hand on the doorjamb.

“Yeah,” he whispers, voice raspy with his suddenly dry throat. Revelations pounding him right between the eyes, washing through his body and keying right into his most basic of instincts.

Jungkook watches as your nostrils flare, and he knows it’s in that moment that you register his cedar and lavadin scent; the scent that marks him for what—who—he is.

“Jungkook,” you repeat his name, and he wants to howl with delight at how it sounds coming from your lips. “No. You can’t…it’s not—” your voice cuts off a second before you drop the small, black leather box you were holding and turn, disappearing in a flash of violet tulle and silk.

🥀🥀🥀

“Stop! Wait, please!” The shout of your name follows you down the hall, but you’re too focused on getting as far away from him and the feelings threatening to overwhelm you as you can.

“No, no, no,” you chant under your breath as you move as swiftly as the slippered feet will allow you to go without tripping yourself up.

It’s clearly not fast enough. It only takes a few frantic beats of your heart before a firm grip on your elbow draws you to a stumbling halt. The touch is electric, and your skin flushes with goosebumps at the heated contact.

“Don’t run,” Jungkook pants. “Please.”

You wretch your arm from his grip and whirl on him, a sharp remark ready on the tip of your tongue. Only, it dies there, never to be uttered, as your heart thumps violently in response to the look on his face—pure anguish.

Your voice is thread-thin as you finally manage to get words out, “This can’t be happening.”

Jungkook’s brow twitches, his lips tucked between his teeth. His emotions are stark on his face, and the conflict is raw and bare to you. Clearly, he’s warring the same as you, maybe even more so.

“Why do you smell like Hayun?” he asks, his voice soft in contrast to the raging storm you see in his eyes. “Why do you smell more like my true mate than she even does? Is this some wicked, cruel prank?”

You shake your head, intentionally drawing a breath through your mouth in hopes of saving your nose from another assault of his perfect scent. But, instead, his flavor laces over your tongue and slides down your throat to sit like a knot in your belly. You might as well have licked a stripe up his neck for all the good that did.

“I-I don’t know,” you choke out, trying to keep the pool of saliva under your tongue from dripping down your chin.

Jungkook steps closer to you, leading with his nose. He sniffs the air around you and something must not sit well with what he discovers because he rears back and bares his teeth. “Of course,” he mutters as his eyes drop to your left wrist.

Your eyes track his movement as he scoops up your wrist in a loose grip, and you realize it’s the bracelet there that has his attention. Everything clicks into place, and you feel like the faintest breeze could sweep you away with how lightheaded you’re feeling at this moment.

“We traded,” you whisper as if speaking low enough means the admission won’t utterly destroy the world as you know it.

“She’s not my true mate,” he states, voice as low as yours, fevered and quiet. “You are.”

Those words punch you in the chest, nearly taking you to your knees. If it weren’t for the hold Jungkook has on your wrist, you’re sure you’d be in a heap on the floor. As it is, he catches his other arm around your waist as you sway on the spot.

“Y-you shouldn’t.” Your protest is stilted, the words feeling robotic and unnatural as you gingerly press a hand against the arm that’s angled around your ribs. It was your intention to push his touch away, but the most you accomplish is flexing your fingers against the smooth cotton covering his thick bicep.

Somehow, you find yourself back in the room you had fled from just a few minutes ago. Jungkook settled you on the bed and is now pressing a chilled water bottle into your hands.

He kneels before you, headless of putting wrinkles in his black dress slacks. He’s wearing a thin white undershirt, his starched white button-up undone over it. The cuffs of the sleeves flop as he brings his hands into his lap and picks at the edges of his thumbnails.

Your eyes rove the room, catching on the black leather box still sitting on the floor by the door where you dropped it. Inside the box is nestled a pair of golden cufflinks—a pair you now understand have been passed down through the generations of Jeon men.

Absently, you press your thumb to your phone, unlocking it to reveal the text message that has irrevocably changed your life forever.

If you had known Taehyung’s text message requesting help would have led you to where you are right now, you’d probably have ignored it.

Yet, at the same time, if you had, you’d probably have had this revelation with Jungkook in the middle of the ceremony, and it would have caused all sorts of untoward chaos. No, it’s far better that it’s happening now instead of later. Maybe you can get ahead of this and fix it somehow. Though…

“Hey? You okay?” Jungkook interrupts your thoughts. “Fuck, that’s a stupid question. Sorry.”

“Huh? Oh. Umm…yeah. I don’t—what do we do now?” You turn your phone over, finger ghosting over the power button to lock the screen once more.

Jungkook sighs, and you can’t help watching the rise and fall of his shoulders, framing the swell of his defined chest with the action. He’s an exquisite specimen of masculinity, and even if it weren’t for the musky notes of his scent that mark him as your true mate, you’d find him devastatingly attractive.

“We need to tell Hayun. I c-can’t…I can’t marry her. Not when I’ve found—” he cuts off, wincing as his voice breaks. “I should go and find her. Now, before this can go any further. I’m sorry. I’ll, uh, I’ll find you later, okay?”

“Wait,” you call after him. He stops halfway to the door and glances back at you over his shoulder. “Shouldn’t we tell her together?”

Jungkook chews the inside of his cheek a moment, his eyes flicking over your face as he thinks through your suggestion. Slowly, he nods. “Yeah, maybe that’s for the best.”

There is palpable tension between you and Jungkook as you follow behind him out of the main building. He texted Jimin, knowing he’d be the most reliable with his phone on him, asking where the photos were currently taking place.

It only took a few minutes for Jimin to respond that they were almost finished but were currently capturing some group shots on the walking path by the lake on the backside of the property.

You’re vaguely aware of where the lake is located, having given the map of the grounds that was posted on the backside of your room’s door a cursory look the day you arrived. It’s a relatively short distance, yet it feels like miles with the weight of pure dread sitting firmly on your shoulders.

At least it’s not a feeling you’re experiencing alone. Jungkook is right there with you, and you can clearly see the unease in the stiff way his body moves. The tips of his fingers twitch back in your direction every few steps like he’s fighting off the urge to slip them between your own.

The first person you catch sight of is Yoona, the photographer. She’s squatting in the grass, her large DSLR camera held up to her face, as she captures candid moments of Hayun, Taehyung, and Jimin repositioning themselves along the lake's edge.

Your heart squeezes hard at how beautiful Hayun is in her form-fitting silk ivory, off-the-shoulder wedding gown, the lacy bell sleeves fluttering around her hands. Her head is thrown back, the peel of her carefree laughter carrying to you and further crumbling your soul into a million pieces. You ache, not just for the desire to draw closer to your true mate, but for the inevitable aftermath of what is about to happen.

Taehyung is the first to notice you and Jungkook. The smile on his face slowly disappears, replaced by a concerned frown. Hayun catches his expression and follows his line of sight. Her gaze sears into you, and you feel like you might combust into a cloud of ash at any second with the irritation contained in her pretty brown eyes.

“What’s going on?” Hayun exclaims, throwing her hands up in a frustrated manner as she stalks towards you and Jungkook. “It’s not time for your photos yet,” she tells you before her eyes swing to Jungkook. “What happened to not seeing me before the wedding? That was your rule!”

“Hayun, we need to talk.”

“Talk about wh—” she cuts off, her question turning into a gasp. Your wide eyes flick to you. “You told him?”

“What? No!”

Your protest rings out at the same time that Jungkook says, “She’s my true mate.”

A breeze kicks up, sweeping from behind you and tossing errant strands of hair across Hayun’s forehead. You’d give anything for the power to pluck the wind from the air, shove it back…keep it from showering her with yours and Jungkook’s combined scents—a blatant confirmation echoing the words Jungkook just let loose.

Hayun stiffens. Her jaw goes rigid, and her face pales as her nostrils flare. It’s a moment that will be forever written across the band of your friendship. Betrayal flashes through her eyes before morphing into something akin to somber resignation.

“Hayun,” Jungkook begins. “I don’t—we didn’t…I’m sorry. What do we do?” He spreads his hands out in front of himself in a helpless manner.

By this time, Jimin and Taehyung have come up from behind Hayun, faces wary as they take in the scene with growing clarity. You look to Taehyung, hoping he can see the silent plea in your eyes.

“Explain,” Hayun says simply. Despite how collected she seems, you can see the subtle tremble in her hands and the way the muscles in her neck continue to flex and strain as she clenches and grinds her teeth.

Jungkook launches into recounting the events that brought you to his room and broke the proverbial dam. “We—we had no idea. I swear this is the first time we’ve ever met, and gods, the bracelets…” Jungkook trails off, a pained sound rumbling from his chest.

“Is this a joke?” Taehyung asks accusingly, and it’s like a barb to your heart.

“We wouldn’t do that.” Your croaked statement draws Hayun’s attention.

Hayun sniffles, her chin jerking a little higher into the air. “My nose tells me one thing, but my heart tells me another. Did you know about this last night? Is that why you pushed so hard for me to tell him?” The last part is whispered, meant only for you, which hurts even more.

“Hayun, no! You know that’s impossible. I couldn’t have known.”

“Tell me what?” Jungkook asks, having heard despite her whisper, his eyes swiveling between you and Hayun.

You shake your head at him, not wanting to throw further fuel on the fire. “Hayun, please, believe me.”

A pregnant moment full of thick tension passes before it fizzles, and Hayun shakes her head, not in a dismissive fashion but in gentle acceptance. “I believe you,” she tells you. “I guess…I guess there won’t be a wedding in four hours unless you two want…” She trails off, a bittersweet smile tugging at her cherry red painted lips.

Jungkook blanches, wide eyes landing on you. “What? Us? No. I mean, sorry…but—”

Hayun holds up her hand, quelling Jungkook’s flustered response. “I was teasing, Koo, trying to lighten the mood. Um,” she pauses, absently twisting the diamond engagement ring around her finger before slowly slipping it off and closing a fist around it. “Can we talk, though? There’s something I needed to tell you today anyway.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says wearily.

“Tae, do you mind…?” Hayun asks, not even having to fill in the blanks. Her brother instantly steps into his role as protector and savior.

“Don’t worry about anything. I’ll make some phone calls,” Taehyung assures her before grabbing Jimin’s arm and starting back down the walking path.

“I’ll just—” you thumb over your shoulder in the direction Tae and Jimin just disappeared in “—be in my room.”

“Wait,” Hayun calls, pulling your retreat up short. “Come here.” She opens her arms, her hands opening and closing in grabby motions. “Please.”

A sob cracks from your throat as you throw yourself at her, wrapping your arms around her neck. “I’m so sorry, Hayun. I’m so sorry.”

“Hush. None of that. This isn’t anything we could have predicted or stopped from happening. If anything, maybe this is life’s way of getting back at me for what I did to him,” she whispers in your ear. “This is how it’s meant to be.”

Hayun smoothes a hand over your back and releases you. She steps back, using the back of a finger to lift the tears from your cheeks, and gives you a watery smile.

You’re not sure you can speak without completely losing yourself, so you just give her a tight nod and continue back on your way down the path. A part of you wants to hear what she has to say to Jungkook, to be there to soothe any hurts or aches…which is a startling realization that you’d not just tend to Hayun but to Jungkook, too. That internal, visceral part of you yearns to turn on your heel and…protect what’s yours.

It’s an odd revelation to think of Jungkook as yours. Well, yours unless either of you reject the bond. Though, that thought makes your stomach pitch and roil. You have to trail a hand along the wall in the hall leading to your room to keep yourself from curling over your abdomen at just the idea.

Once back in your room, you’re unsure what to do with yourself, so you absently start to gather your belongings and pack them up. Every few minutes, you find yourself pausing to stare at the door, ears pricking at the slightest sound from beyond it.

You’re not sure what you’re expecting. Whether it’s Hayun coming to your room so the two of you can cry together or Jungkook coming to claim y—uh, you shove that thought aside quickly because now is not the time. At. All.

The time for the wedding comes and passes without a single knock on your door nor a text or call on your phone. You’re tempted to go looking. For what, you’re not entirely sure—an answer, maybe, some sort of direction on what you should do now.

Finally, after hours of sitting in silence with just your thoughts for company, a soft knock sounds at your door. The long hem of your dress nearly trips you up in your haste to make it to the door. It swings open, and for some reason, your stomach drops, the flutter of disappointment heavy and unexpected.

“Hey, beautiful,” Taehyung says, his voice soft and full of emotion. “Mind if I come in?” 

His necktie is loose, and the top button of his dress shirt is undone. There is a tension in his eyes that wasn’t there earlier. It makes your chest ache.

“Sure,” you say, stepping back and letting him into your room.

Taehyung sighs, perches on the end of your bed, and props his elbows on his knees. His chin rests on an upturned fist, his other hand dangling between his legs, clutching his phone.

He opens his mouth, a single word the only thing coming out, “So.”

“So,” you parrot.

“Hayun wants me to take her home…alone. I’m not sure what all she and Jungkook talked about, but I think they’re at least amicable in agreeing that it would be best if he gave her a few days at home alone before they start the process of separating their lives.” You’re not sure if the bitter tinge in your chest is hurt because Hayun isn’t the one telling you this or because now you have to find your own way to the airport. As if reading your thoughts, Taehyung continues, “I can be back in two days, maybe sooner, depending on traffic. Perhaps they’ll let you extend your stay. If not, I can talk to Jimin—”

“No, Tae, it’s okay. I’ll figure something out. Don’t worry about me. Just take care of Hayun, make sure she’s okay...as okay as she can be, at least. Fuck.” The last word comes out choked, and you gnash your teeth on the inside of your cheek to keep from letting the angry tears out. You have no right to be angry. Hell, you’re not even sure why you’re angry. It just seems like the easiest emotion to feel right now, the only one that doesn’t leave you feeling like your world is slowly imploding.

“Hey,” Taehyung says, bringing one of his big hands up to cup the side of your face. His thumb prods at the swell of your cheek, causing you to release the tension in your jaw. “Hayun isn’t the only one I’m worried about here.”

“I’m fine—I will be fine,” you amend. “I promise. I think I’m just feeling overwhelmed. I’m mad at myself for ruining Hayun’s big day. I can’t believe this is happening at all. This…this just doesn’t happen. This is the kind of shit you read about in books, it’s not supposed to be real life.”

And there it is, you surmise—the truth of the matter. None of what’s happened makes sense. It honestly belongs on the pages of a book or in a movie script, not in your real life. It still feels surreal. If it weren’t for the subtle, lingering ache you instinctively know is associated with finding your true mate but not allowing yourself to fully accept it, you’d think this was all some elaborate party trick or impractical joke.

Taehyung smiles at you, but the unease in his eyes can’t be masked that easily. “I’m not sure what to say or what to do. You’re right. This isn’t a situation I think anyone was prepared for or ever thought possible, actually. But, here we are…and we have to face it the best way we can.” He pauses for a moment, looking thoughtful. “I'll tell you what: I’ll text Jimin—he’s a good guy, I think you’ll enjoy his company—and ask him to meet you in the lounge. Have a few drinks, wind down, and try to relax as best you can.”

“Sure,” you say lamely, trying to muster up at least a little bit of enthusiasm.

“That’s my girl.” Taehyung offers you another smile, this one not so tense. “Here, I have something for you.” He fishes into his pant pocket and produces a familiar thin silver chain, a tiny crescent moon dangling near one end.

The sight has your spine straightening. “Right, of course.” You quickly thumb open the clasp on the bracelet around your wrist, letting it fall from your skin for the first time since you put it on when Hayun gave it to you all those years ago. It never felt right to take it off…not until now.

Taehyung helps you swap the bracelet with the one in his hand. The metal feels cold against your skin and you immediately miss the subtle fragrance of Hayun’s scent clinging to your wrist. Though, you suppose that’s what has gotten you both into this mess to begin with. Taehyung explains in soft words how Jungkook explained to Hayun about the scent mix-up with the bracelets—such a silly, seemingly insignificant thing…the catalyst to spark such a colossal moment.

“I’m going to get on the road with Hayun, but I’ll call you as soon as we get to her place and check in on you, okay?”

Sitting at the bar with Jungkook’s best friend seemed like a good idea when Taehyung first presented it to you. But, at the time, you weren’t connecting the dots that Jimin was Jungkook’s best friend. He was just Jimin, the guy that just so happened also to be part of the wedding party that you had met in passing briefly, but he seemed like a good enough person. Now, however, you feel all the awkward tension radiating right between your shoulder blades, emphasized by the silence lingering between the two of you.

You traded in your lilac dress for jeans and a light silk blouse, canvas slip-ons in place of your slippers, yet no matter how comfortable you know your clothing is, you can’t shake the prickling discomfort eating away at the back of your neck.

“Want another?” Jimin asks, nodding to your mostly watered-down rum and coke. It’s barely late afternoon, and as much as Taehyung’s suggestion of a drink sounded like just what you needed, you’ve found yourself not in the mood to drink after all.

“Um, nah. I’m okay, thanks.”

“Cool. Okay. I’ll be right back.” Jimin drums his fingers on the tabletop and pops his lips before giving you a slight head nod and pushing up from his chair.

You watch as he saunters to the long bar, his crescent moon tattoo on the nape of his neck peeking out from the top of his collar, and props his elbows onto the shiny top. His smile is flirty and casual as the bartender, a beautiful woman with long, inky tresses and fiery red lipstick, sidles up in front of him.

They’re too far away for you to hear their conversation, but her tinkling laughter carries across the space, and you know it might be a while before Jimin returns to your table.

Which you’re okay with. Considering you know you’re not exactly pleasant company right now, you don’t blame him one bit. You glance down at your phone, once again reading the last text message Hayun sent you not too long ago.

Eunseo stopped by the lounge around the same time Jimin showed up. If her smile and lingering hug were any indicator, she clearly had a thing for him. She gave you a small wave goodbye before giving Jimin another hug and heading out. Apparently, she was going to follow Taehyung and Hayun back to Hayun and Jungkook’s place to help Hayun with whatever she needed over the next few days.

Does it hurt that your best friend is relying on someone else, her new best friend? Yes. Do you also understand why? Also, yes, but that doesn’t make the sting hurt any less.

You’re just about to give up and retreat back to your room, which the front desk still hasn’t given you a definitive answer about whether or not your stay can be extended while you wait for Tae, when a shadow falls across your table a second before.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Jungkook asks in a low voice.

He fidgets, threading and unthreading his fingers together while he waits for your answer. The suit he had half on earlier is gone, and in its place is a dark pair of jeans, the knees worn fashionably, and an oversized white graphic t-shirt. Black sneakers peek out from the rounded bottoms of his pant legs.

You clear your throat, forcing your eyes away from his and instead on the glass sitting in a puddle of condensation on the table before you. “Oh, I—uh, I was actually about to go. You’re welcome to the table, though. Jimin was—” You cut off, realizing Jimin is no longer in the lounge at all. “Well, he was here,” you add with a frown.

Jungkook scratches a hand across the back of his neck and gives you a hesitant smile. “Yeah, he texted me. He went…well, that doesn’t matter. Could we, um…can we talk?”

“Yes.” The response is out of your mouth before he even finishes asking. “Please, I think I’d like that,” you say, nodding toward the open seat across from you.

A shaky breath rattles from Jungkook as he eases into the empty seat. “Have you talked to Hayun at all?” he asks after a moment’s hesitation.

“A text message, but that’s all. I’m not sure she wants to talk to me right now.” Needing something to do with your hands, you trace a finger along the edge of the water pooled around the bottom of your glass and use your other to poke more drops on the side of your cup, making them race down to join the growing puddle.

Jungkook nods, his lips pursing thoughtfully. “She told me what happened last night. Her confession.” That draws your attention back to him, and you wait, fingers still on the glass, intent on hearing what he says next. “I thought I’d be angrier finding out the woman I’ve been with for years—the woman I was hours away from marrying—had cheated on me…but I’m not. For the life of me, I’m not mad at her…even though I know I should be.”

“How do you feel?”

Maybe it’s none of your business, but you have to ask.

Blowing out a breath, Jungkook slides one of his hands across the table and, giving you plenty of time to protest or pull away, slowly slides his fingers between yours, effectively joining his hand with yours. It’s the first time hand-holding has felt so intimate yet wholly innocent.

“Relieved, I think,” he finally says. “Grateful, maybe? Hayun was hurt. As she has every right to be, but she said she also felt relief, too. I think, as much as she said she loved me, she was still holding back even in the end.” With a rueful shake of his head, he tacks on, “We were just a disaster waiting to happen, held together only by the thin chain of a bracelet. We would have shattered eventually.”

Jungkook’s eyes drop to where your fingers are entwined with his, trailing up to your wrist to land on the object he just spoke of.

“I’m relieved, too,” you whisper. Your eyes meet his as he glances up, and you’re instantly captivated.

This is the first time you’ve allowed yourself to really study Jungkook. His hair is tousled like he’d been running his hands through it for hours. You suppose he probably had been and wonder if that’s one of his nervous ticks.

The bow of his lips is prominent and draws your eyes. Your gaze lingers on his lips, making small mental notes at everything you see, like the tiny beauty mark under his bottom lip. His straight nose leads you to his expressive eyes, so dark and full of secrets you want to be privy to.

To say Jungkook is handsome would be a gross understatement. You’re not sure if it’s the fact he’s your true mate or just simply a gorgeous being, but he is pleasing to the eyes, that’s for sure.

You mentally kick yourself for thinking such thoughts about your best friend’s almost-husband after everything that has just happened. It’s not in good taste to entertain these thoughts so soon, right? True mate or not.

Yet, you can’t shove those thoughts away completely.

“Where did you go just now?” Jungkook asks, tilting his head and studying you intently.

Not wanting to explain yourself and the thoughts you were just having, you choose to ask him a question instead. “So, what now?”

You’re thankful Jungkook doesn’t push you to answer. He shifts in his seat and withdraws his fingers from between yours.

“I think we start with…” he trails off, a playful smile tugging up the side of his mouth as he holds the hand he pulled back in the air in front of you in offering. “Hi, I’m Jungkook.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, you smile. A laugh escapes you, and you instantly feel a thousand times lighter with that simple action.

As you take his hand back into yours, allowing yourself to truly savor the feel of his skin against yours, you realize that no matter what happens with Hayun or the fact that you live thousands of miles apart from Jungkook…everything is going to be okay and maybe you wouldn’t have ignored Taehyung’s text after all.

🥀🥀🥀

Jungkook, 3 months later

The flight was long but worth it. Jungkook stretches as he climbs out of the Uber he took from the airport. You would have picked him up. In fact, you are supposed to pick him up…just, not until next week. He decided to surprise you by coming early. He hopes you don’t mind.

Time seemed to drag to a near stand-still following that fateful day at the bed and breakfast where he was so sure he’d be joining his life with Hayun’s officially. No one could have anticipated what actually went down that day. But, in the end, he and Hayun parted ways on pleasant terms, and it’s actually thanks to her that he’s here right now, a week early.

Jungkook was worried that with everything that happened, yours and Hayun’s friendship might suffer. But, surprisingly—and thankfully—you guys have been getting on great. Hayun has been looking at work prospects in Thailand but, from what you’ve told Jungkook, is planning to visit you and Taehyung for Christmas.

It’s been three months, and not a day has gone by that Jungkook hasn’t talked to you in some capacity. From the moment he offered to be your ride to the airport, and you agreed, he’s thought about nothing other than getting on a plane and following you. The draw to you is just that strong.

You’ve expressed similar feelings, already having planned a return trip to Seoul next month. Neither Jungkook nor you have really talked about what the future holds or how to even begin to navigate it. But Jungkook hopes that during the week he is here, you can both begin to figure that out.

Giddiness makes his tattooed fingers shake as he reaches out and grasps the brass knocker on your door. He gives it a rap against the thick wood and waits. Jungkook counts the breaths as his anticipation rises. It’s only three and a half exhales before he hears the soft pad of your feet on the other side of the door.

Jungkook can imagine you pressing up onto your tip toes in order to peer through the peephole. He’d pay money to be able to see the look on your face when you see it’s him. Not being able to see your face doesn’t take away from the dopamine rush he gets when the sound of your surprised squeal sounds through the door.

“Jungkook!” Your shout is followed by the frantic sound of you disengaging the locks on your door before you swing it open and launch yourself at him. “What the fuck are you doing here? Oh, my gods! Why didn’t you tell me? You’re here!”

It feels good to laugh, but it feels even better to have you in his arms finally. The brief embrace he shared with you at the airport when he dropped you off was not enough and is what drove him to try and come sooner than planned.

Jungkook savors the warmth of your soft body pressed against his, your arms tight around his neck. Running one of his hands up your spine, he clasps the back of your neck and uses his hold there to angle your head away from his neck so he can look you in the face.

“Surprise,” he whispers. “I couldn’t wait any longer.”

You sigh dreamily, your eyes fluttering closed for a second like you’re savoring the feeling of being in his arms. “Pleasant surprise,” you murmur with a smile on your face.

Jungkook can’t help himself. He wants so badly to know if your smile tastes as good as he thinks it will. The press of his lips against yours causes you to melt against him, a throaty sound escaping around the intrusion of his tongue as he works it between your lips.

“Your taste,” he groans, forcing his mouth away from yours before the allure of you can drive him completely mad. Who is he kidding? He’s already there. “I need more.”

🥀🥀🥀

Those words do something to you.

I need more.

They echo the thoughts you’ve been harboring for the last three months. You’ve ached with those words, desperately willing yourself to be patient and let it happen when it’s meant to happen.

But, fuck, it feels so good to have him in your arms, to have his mouth brushing against yours. He tastes divine, a warm sweetness that compliments the musk of his scent that is slowly wrapping itself around you.

“Take me. Take it all,” you urge, completely baring yourself to him, body, mind, and soul. “I’m yours.”

It’s a frenzy, the frantic discarding of clothing. Your fingers work to free him of his jeans while also helping him with the criss-cross straps of your lounging romper. You don’t care that you’re still standing by your front door, bared down to your underwear. The only thing you’re focusing on now is how Jungkook holds you at arm's length and drinks you in from head to toe.

“You…are…everything.” The way he whispers those words crawls under your skin, rooting itself deep in your being. You feel sexy…desired, and unbelievably empty—your body clenches, the ache deep between your thighs. You’ve never been so turned on from just taking your clothes off before, from whispered words and a heated look.

Jungkook allows you to undress him as slow or as fast as you want. You try to take your time and savor every inch of skin you expose. But, you can barely contain yourself when you get to his jeans, shoving them unceremoniously down his thighs with your eyes locked on the many planes and angles of his toned chest and stomach.

Your fingers ghost over his skin, eliciting goosebumps in their wake as you explore the smooth and lush expanse of his shoulders and down his arms. Without needing to say anything more, he gathers you into his arms and covers your mouth with his once more.

It’s a miracle you make it to your bedroom. But, seeing Jungkook sprawled out on your bed is a sight you’ll never forget, with his lowered lids and bottom lip caught between his teeth. You want to taste every inch of him, from the tips of his ears down to the defined muscles of his calves.

Now, though, your gaze focuses on the front of his tented boxer briefs. The dark grey material has darkened even further, where you can see the distinct outline of the head of his cock. Saliva pools in your mouth.

You crawl on the bed, knees slotting between his, your hands on either side of his hips. With your eyes locked on his, you lean down and mouth gently at the wetness. You moan at the flavor of him, your tongue peeking out to seek more.

“Fuck,” you curse. “You taste so good.”

Jungkook lets out a quick breath. “You can’t say shit like that, baby girl. You’re going to make me lose it.” He flicks his eyes up to the ceiling, his lips moving like he’s sending up a silent prayer, before looking back down at you. “You have maybe three seconds before I can’t hold back any longer and tear that ass up.”

You chuckle softly, pouting out your lips in a faux sullen manner. “Yes, sir.”

That earns a growl from Jungkook that has heat racing down your spine as you hook your fingers into the band of his Calvin Klein’s and pull them down. He lifts his hips, helping you free him from their confines.

His cock stands so pretty before you, the full heft bobbing against his belly, smearing a pearl of precum against his golden skin. You dive in, licking at the sticky mess before taking the tip between your lips and lavishing your tongue over his slit.

Jungkook fists the sheets, a litany of curses falling from his lips. “Please,” he chokes.

You keep your eyes locked on his as you inch your way down his length, your jaw forcing itself wider to accommodate as much of him as you can. The blunt head of his cock presses against the back of your throat. You take a steadying breath in through your nose before forcing yourself a little further until your throat constricts around him and you have to pull back.

The second your mouth leaves his cock, saliva stringing from your lips to his tip, Jungkook grabs you and hauls you up over him. You laugh, loving the heat emanating from his body as yours covers his.

“What are you doing?” you gasp.

His strong hands land on your hips and tangle in the band of your panties. “I need these off. Please. I need you. I want to feel you…be inside you.”

You want that, too, you realize, your body already primed and begging for it. The sweet, fragrant notes of your arousal saturate the air, mixing with Jungkook’s to paint a picture of hedonism and wanton desires.

The rest of your clothes come off, your bra and panties are tossed to the side, leaving you utterly bare to him. Your inner thighs slide like velvet over his hips as you move your body against his until you can feel the press of the head of his cock against your entrance.

You wrap a hand around his base, angling him perfectly. It’s a slow descent into madness, the lowering of your body onto his. His eyes bore into yours, pouring out everything that has been building to this moment, this pinnacle that will forever throttle you onto a different path for your future—with him. You can feel every perfect inch slide along your walls as they adjust and welcome him. It’s like sliding home; he is the perfect fit for your body, filling you completely.

The pace you set, at first, is languid. An easy rise and fall of your hips as you both learn the body of the other. Jungkook’s hands mold around your breasts, his thumbs caressing over the pert points of your nipples.

“You feel so good,” you tell him, emphasizing your words with a generous roll of your hips. “So much better than I imagined.”

“You imagined it often?” he asks, a teasing tone to his words.

With the amount of teasing photos and videos you’ve shared with each other over the last few weeks, he knows you have. You can tell he’s just giving you a hard time. That’s fine, because you can…

Jungkook throws his head back as you arch yours, letting his cock hit that special place inside that has you both seeing stars. “Fuck!” His hands drop to your hips, landing with a satisfying smack. His grip tightens, dimpling the supple flesh around his fingers. “Can I knot you?” he asks with a breathless moan. You’ve never taken an alpha’s knot. The idea has your body pulsing around his, flooding slick onto his pelvis as you continue to roll your hips. “Fuck, baby girl, do you like that idea? You want to take my knot like a good girl?”

You can’t even form a coherent thought, much less answer him. The only thing that comes out of your mouth is a panting keen, your chin jerking up and down as you frantically nod your want.

Jungkook braces his feet against the mattress and uses his grip on your hips as leverage to thrust upward, sending you forward onto your hands. He’s relentless, pounding into you from below to the point your eyes roll back, and you have to squeeze them shut. Tiny pinpricks of light burst behind your lids as your body coils tighter than ever before.

You cry out as he sends you over the edge, your body careening into an unfathomable abyss of pleasure. The sounds coming from around his cock as it pounds into you are slick and obscene, debauched yet wholly satisfying. 

“Alpha, need your knot,” you mewl, your lips finding the triskelion tattoo over Jungkook’s left pec muscle. You nibble at it, your teeth sinking softly into the skin.

“Oh, baby, fuck…fuck…Fuuuckkk!” Jungkook shouts, the sound turning into a guttural snarl as his body goes primal.

He seats himself completely inside of you with one final, deliberate thrust, and then you can feel the swell of his knot capture within you. It hurts, your pleasure turning into a moment of pain and panic. You squirm, trying to lift your hips from his, but the clasp of his hands on your body won’t let you go far. You whine, “J-Jungkook.”

“I know, baby girl, I know. Relax. Let your body do what it needs to do.”

It’s like those words unlock some inner Omega part of your brain, and suddenly you feel your body rush with endorphins and dopamine as it accepts the thick jets of his cum now flooding in. Like administering a drug, it’s such a fast transition that you feel lightheaded and giddy, sheepish and almost silly over your moment of panic.

“Gods, that feels so…good.” You wiggle in his arms, gasping as his knot pulls tight. You want more, need more of that feeling…need more of his cum. “More, Alpha, please.”

Jungkook pants, a tired smile on his face. You can feel it when his cock pulses inside you, dribbling even more liquid heat into your body in answer to your plea. “That’s my pretty girl,” Jungkook coos, brushing a hand across your forehead. “You’re so beautiful taking my knot, full of my cum.” He curses softly, reverently, and another gush of heat fills your body. “I’m going to take such good care of you. I swear it.”

You fall into a half-sleep, content and sated as you are. There are no worries about the future, nor the past. You are happy…all thanks to a pair of golden cufflinks.

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️   2024-11-05 ColorMePurplex2

[thecoochiefairy]

𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖔𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖊𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖞

━━ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑛𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑒𝑟 .ᐟ toji.

warnings 𑄽𑄺 18.9K word count. moving man! snake catcher! toji, third person omniscient pov, black woman, vaginal penetration, shower sex, rough sex, sweet sex, sweet talkin’, squirting, oral [f] ,choking, praising, fingering, LOTS of dirty talk, a lil degrading?, condomless sex, kissing, spanking, aggressive toji, sweetie toji, minors aren’t welcome!

song to play while listening; 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡’𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ; 𝑙𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑦 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑒

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ hey guys, it’s been a while, life has been a pain. but i wanted to give you something sweet, cute, hot. so here you go. i love you. 🫶🏽

SHE SHOULD’VE BOUGHT CURTAINS. That’s a thought that crossed her mind, scanning through the front window that looked out into the yard. The sun was creating a warmth into the kitchen—these were things she definitely wouldn’t miss living in this house. 

There weren’t many things she would miss, but if she could think of anything she’d probably think of the happier moments. She could remember the smiles they shared between each other, the giggles that released from her lips as he made her laugh, the joy of showing her child what a family oriented household could be. All that was about to change. 

Her attention was pulled away from the window, a voice coming behind her. A hum of approval released from the person’s lips as they held a wine glass within their hand, allowing the sweetness of the liquid to ignite their taste buds. 

“You may have a horrible taste in men, but you damn sure have a good tongue for wine.” 

She turns her head at her older sister, Serena, then continuing to lean against the window with a soft shake to her head. Her sister was never the type to hold her mouth to anything or anyone—she always reminded her of just how bad she was at identifying a toxic relationship. 

“Do you really think right now is the time to be shitting on me?” 

“When will it be a good time for you to hear the truth?” 

That makes her go silent. It’s not that she wasn’t grown up enough to face reality, but she’d done enough crying about the matter of it all—being divorced at twenty-seven wasn’t something she expected. She’d known her ex-husband since she was twenty-two, falling immensely in love with one another, talking up hopes and dreams of being together forever. He showed her things no other man hadn’t, sweeping her off her feet so well that she immediately agreed to marrying him. It could’ve also been the fact that she was pregnant at the time, but she pushed that thought to the side. 

Having someone to call home had its pro’s, but it also had its many—many cons. As the years had gone by, she learned him. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, for sickness. But only being able to part ways by death wasn’t something she wanted with him, realizing he had a life made for her that she didn’t want for herself, always wanting to make choices for her. Fuck that. 

As she stared down at the princess cut on her ring finger, she thought to herself—she didn’t even like princess cut designed jewelry. He did. 

Her sister then speaks again, “Say, when is that moving company supposed to get here? Did you catch the name of any of the guys?” 

She shook her head in response, “Uh—“ checking the email as she reads, “Fushiguro, that’s the last name of the owner.”

“Is he hot?” her sister questions, smirk along her lips.

She blinks, turning towards her as she asks, “And why would that matter?”

“Well—“ Serena takes another sip of her drink, “You’re a divorcè before the age of thirty, you’re still attractive, and you’re basically a widow! I think you should hop on the next dick the second you get the chance.”

Shaking her head at her opinionated sibling, she disagrees, “Nope, no. I’m just gonna work on bringing my regular customers back in, and focus on Sai—your niece, by the way, did you forget that my child is more important than some dick, Serena?” 

“What about you though? When are you going out to have some fun? Look, I’m not saying you should hook-up the first nigga you see, but I’m just saying your life shouldn’t be entirely fufilled between your business and daughter.”

She sighs, “I wanna have fun, I’m not a grandma. But we haven’t even gotten out of this miserable ass house yet. Let me just—decompress for a bit. You know Nathan would die before I had another man around Sai so soon,” she recalls, sighing as she reaches onto the kitchen counter to grab a glass, beginning to pour some wine for herself. 

Thankfully getting off of her case, Serena then pulls back with a sigh, “Okay—Okay, I’ll get off your ass about it,” She holds up her hands in defense, “Just giving you some advice! Don’t want you to be an old spinster-ass-bitch!” 

“Girl, fuck you.” 

The both of them laugh together, humor becoming their common ground as the tension within the room falters. As they continue to talk, they notice as a steel black semi-truck pulls to the front of the driveway from the window. It’s not what either of them expected, a bright and bold serpent painted against the vehicle, yellow eyes almost three dimensional. 

“I think the moving people are here…” Serena mutters, her eyes peeking over to the window. 

At the same time, the sound of tiny feet smacking along the floor catches their attention. A pink tutu romper appears within both women’s eyes, Sai holding a doll within her hand as she raises her arms to be carried upwards. 

Serena watches as her younger sister playfully groans, pulling her up onto her hip as she smiles, “And what are you so excited for?”

“Look, mommy, we have visitors!” Sai calls, pointing out the window. 

They all looked back to the moving truck that parked just in-front of the house. When the door opens from the semi, Serena’s eyes could’ve popped out of her head. 

She notices her face as she questions, “What?” 

“Oh bitch, yo’ moving man is fine as hell!” 

Serena nearly trips as she gets closer to the window, almost pressing her face against the glass as she watches. It causes her younger sister to frown, placing her daughter back along the ground to figure out what she was going on about. 

“Girl, what the hell are you talking about—“

She halts. Her eyes follow through the window as she watches a man, no—a man step out of the large truck. She wasn’t sure if he was as pretty as an angel, or devilishly attractive. The black muscle tee and overalls he wears compliment his olive skin, the dark ink of his tattoos spread all across his large arms and what looks to be his chest, traveling beneath the fabric of his shirt. He’s tall and broad, nearly stretching everything he wears. She takes notice of a serpent tattoo that swirls around his left arm—similar to the symbol on the truck—starting from his shoulder and slithering down to his palm. She follows up to a strident face, strong jaw, full pink lips—not to mention the immense amount of ink along his neck— coming all the way up to onyx hair, a cigarette poking from his scarred lip. His dark eyebrows make a natural frown, trying desperately to hide him from the sun. 

Serena squints deeply beneath the sun hitting them as she whispers, “Who the fuck… is that? Oh—oh my god… who the hell did you hire, a moving man or an assassin?”  

She frowns, “Why an assassin?”

“Cause he can kill this—“

“Aye!” She smacks her arm, “Sai is literally right here, dumbass!” 

Serena rubs her arm as she pouts, “My bad. Damn.”

The two women in the window continue eyeing him, up until they don’t realize how hard they’re staring. The demon that essentially walks along their property takes notice of them from a distance, and he unexpectedly raises his arm with a smirk, giving a short but almost shy wave.

She turns back towards Serena and asks, “Uh…where’s Nathaniel? Did he leave?”

“Hm?” Her sister looks back at her, and her face drops into a disgusted look, “Oh—ugh—Right. Almost forgot about that prick…” 

 As she mutters to herself, the moving man begins unloading a few boxes from the truck, glancing back over towards the front window, and he notices both women looking out at him again.

He raises a dark brow to himself, setting the boxes down at the doorstep before he heads up to the front door. From the window, both the sisters could see his muscles flexing through his tight attire and the sweat that gleamed along them—and all that ink.

She makes a noise as she feels herself being pushed by Serena who exclaims, “Go open the door, stupid!” 

Rolling her eyes, she calls to her daughter as she says, “Baby girl, go up to your room, please?” 

It happened all in a matter of seconds. Before she can process her daughter’s reaction to her question, Sai’s already running towards the front door, swinging it open which causes both women to call out her name. 

“Sai!”

Once the door was open, the man almost immediately looked down at her, as if he’d seen her running through the house to be defiant. A smirk grew on his face as he squatted down, pulling the cigarette from his mouth to greet the child. 

He gives a little wave, “Hey, cutie. And who might you be?” 

From what both women could hear, his voice was deep and very…hot. 

Sai stared up at the tall man, holding her doll close to her chest as she held the door with her small fingers. Her small voice then greeted, “I’m Sai. I live here with my mommy.”

The man hums, still smiling as he crouches down to her level. He had a very muscular build but he looked surprisingly friendly, especially as scary as his stature was. 

 “Sai… that’s a very pretty name for a pretty girl…” he chuckles, “Your mother around?”

Taking a deep breath, she appears around the corner as she gently grabs for her daughter’s hand, turning her eyes back towards the man that looked even better up close. She gets a good look at him as he stands up fully, towering over her in a way she hadn’t expected. But just like her shock, he seemed to be in a state of awe—she just couldn’t see that. 

Her brown skin was a russet tone from the sun, freckles blown all around her face as her slender toffee eyes stared at him in curiosity. Dark eyebrows that arched as if she was mad or in deep thought, middle parted onyx hair that flowed in crimped waves down her back. She was different from most women he’d seen. Her pierced nose that sparkled in the light, the face tattoo on the left side of her dark and fluffy lashes. Jewelry roamed all around both of her ears, fingers, wrists. She was like a fairy. She was ethereal. 

What really stood out to him was the flower cascaded tattoo that started from her neck, traveling all the way down to her right arm, almost similar to his. He could see it from under the blue and sea green dress she wore, the material backless and having a low dip between her breasts. She was sensual, even if she just stood there.

“You can’t just be opening the door, baby,” she lightly scolds her daughter, bringing her eyes up to him as she exhales, “I’m sorry. You um—must be the movers. Fushiguro, right?”

The man still halts to take in her beauty as she stands before him. She was… stunning. His eyes glance over her body, focusing on the tattoo that traveled down her arm, his mind trying to get a glimpse of what was on her hidden skin. He almost forgets what he had to say as he just… stared at her. 

He finally speaks after he comes back to his senses, “Yeah, that’s right. But you can just call me Toji,” he answers.

“Stoney,” she introduces, placing her hand out to him. 

The man behind Toji then asks, “That’ your real name?”

She blinks, not answering for a moment. She then replies, “Got charged back in high school for throwing a rock at a girl. She lived.”

Toji chuckles at her words as he takes her hand with his own, large and rough to the touch. He takes notice of her jewelry and small hands. 

“Stoney… that’s a real unique name too,” his co-worker  comments again, watching as Toji’s hand lingers against hers for a few seconds longer. 

He glances behind him when the other guy speaks up and Toji rolls his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Shut up already,” he mutters before looking back at her, “Anyway, where should we take your things?”

“Sorry, um—do you mind just holding on? My ex-husband should be here soon. He’s the one paying so…I just don’t want you working for free.”

“We have to get a move along,” the man behind Toji says, Stoney looking behind him. 

She puts her hair behind her ear as she nods, “Right. I’m sorry.”

Toji gives her a quick glance as she mentions her ex-husband. She’s divorced. 

“It’s alright,” Toji takes back, trying to sound at least a little bit polite, turning back towards his co-worker with a deathly stare, “He’s a dick. Don’t worry about it, we can wait.”

She takes a breath as she looks back to Toji, ignoring the other man as she says, “Thank you. Do you guys wanna …come inside? You can get some water and stuff before you get to moving shit. My daughter has already seemed to invite you into the home before I could introduce myself,” she gives a smile, Sai giggling beneath her.

Toji chuckles again, “Nah. You don’t gotta’ go through that trouble.” 

His co-worker then butts in, “Actually… some water would do us good, it’s been a damn hot day today.” 

Toji nearly glares back at him before he states, “Uh—yeah. Sure. Thank you.”

Stoney turns, beginning to pull Sai towards the kitchen with her, large hips round within the dress she wears, nearly wanting to rip through the fabric. She doesn’t notice Toji’s eyes against her. Not that it was her concern, but she was hoping he seemed the least bit physically attracted to her. Guess he didn’t. 

Her sister then greets the men as well, reaching her hand out and grabbing Toji’s as she says, “Oh wow, look at that, Stoney. Nice hands. Strong. Good for moving boxes.” 

Stoney rolls her eyes, “Please ignore my sister.”

He chuckles, “I’m good with my hands,” he replies back, shaking her hand with his own strong one before letting go. “Don’t worry.”

“So, how long have you had this company?” Serena asks, “Is it a family business, or just you?” 

Stoney passes water to both men, taking her daughter as she sits against a chair to half listen to their conversation. It’s not that she wasn’t interested, she was just more focused on texting her ex-husband for a third time. 

“I’ve had it for about four years or so.” he answers, “Nah, it’s not a family business. It’s all me.” 

“Ooh, a working man by himself. Hear that, Stoney?” Her sister pulls her attention again, giving her a smirk. 

Stoney rolls her eyes, “I hear,” she brings her eyes back up, “Having your own business is a pain in the ass.” 

“Stoney owns her own business as well,” her sister adds on, crossing her arms with a smirk as she sees Toji’s eyebrows raise.

“Really?” he questions, glancing over at Stoney sitting in the chair, “What kind of business do you have?” 

Stoney shakes her head, “It’s nothing as big as a whole moving company…I’m a ceramicists. I make stuff out of pottery—“ she then pauses to cover her daughter’s ears, “…Astray’s, bongs, plates. Shit like that. It’s not a big deal.”

Toji can’t help but smirk when she covers her daughter’s ears so she won’t hear her mother curse. He found it cute. 

“Not a big deal?” he repeats, “Shit, sounds like you make good ass money. I’ve seen some ceramicists’ work, especially glass. They make a pretty dime doing that type of work.”

“Tell that to her bastard of an ex-husband,” Serena scoffs, Stoney quickly cutting her off, “Hey. Chill.” 

Stoney then turns back to him, “Thank you. I just got back into my business. Had to put it on hold when I had Sai. So it’ll be an exciting little journey for me.”

“Well, all the power to you.” he says simply, ignoring the sisters' comments to each other beforehand,  “How old is your daughter?” 

“How old are you, baby?” Stoney looks down to the little girl, “You remember?”

“I’m four!” the little girl replies, lifting her small fingers to show her age. 

Toji lets out another chuckle at the innocence in her

 tone, “Just four years old… she’s adorable.“

“She’s actually five,” Stoney chuckles, “We’re still working on numbers. She’s moving into public school instead of the daycare she’s been in, so she’s really excited…” 

She then pauses, realizing as she’s over explaining. She only ever did that with people she was comfortable with. Or liked. 

She then pulls her hair behind her shoulder with an awkward chuckle, “Sorry. You didn’t ask all that.”

“You’re good. Keep talking to me.”

Stoney’s eyes flick up at him, seeing as he crossed his arms over his chest, awaiting for her to continue. She couldn’t help but notice the depth of his eyes, a steel grey that knocked into all of her senses. Serena raises her eyebrows, shrugging as she takes a sip of her wine. 

“I—I—um—anyways, I hope it isn’t too hot for you guys today. I can try to help as much as I can.”

Toji noticed the way she shifts within her seat. She was easily reactive. He then shakes his head, “You’re not paying me for shits and giggles. We’ve got this, no worries.” 

Sai then says, “Can I go back up to my room?” 

“Sure, baby. I’ll call you back down when it’s time to go.” 

Stoney gives her a kiss on the cheek, Sai turning back towards Toji as she says, “Are you coming with us to our new house?”

Toji smiles at Sai, “Yeah. I’ll be there,” he answers, watching as she giggles, “Yay!” before running up the stairs disappearing into her bedroom. 

He’s silent for a few seconds until he looks back over at Stoney before stating, “Your kid’s a sweet one.”

“Don’t give her too much credit, she’s a kiss-ass in front of new people.”

Her sister then disagrees, “Now you know damn well that girl don’t be all sweet on new people. She’s like a dog or a newborn, can always sniff out the good ones. You’ married, Toji?” 

“Jesus, Serena. Can the man breathe without you asking invasive ass questions?” Stoney glares. 

Her sister shrugs, “Just curious.”

“No, I’m not married.” he answers, finally taking another sip of the cold water they gave him, his dark eyes never leaving Stoney’s.

When Stoney sees that he looks directly at her while answering the question, she focuses her attention on her wine, her face becoming warm—she’s unsure if it’s the drink, or her nervousness. 

Serena then nods, “You’re extremely handsome. Any reason why you’re not married? Crazy? Commitment issues? Dead wife?”

“Girl!” Stoney gripes, “Don’t be a bitch.”

“No dead wife.” he answers back, a smirk appearing on his face, “Just haven’t found the right woman to marry.”

“Hm,” Her sister’s eyes flick him up and down as she then nods to Stoney, “Commitment issues.” 

“Alright, my sister will be leaving now!” 

Stoney stands from the chair, placing her hands on her sisters shoulders, pushing her towards the door, “The moving guys are here, so you can kick fuckin’ rocks. Goodbye!”

Toji watches as her sister leaves, not trying to hide his amused expression as Serena complains on her way out the door. She gives him a wink as she mouths, ‘Call me’, exiting the house with a loud slam to the door.  

“…I can see why you need a break from her.” Toji says with a dry chuckle, placing the now empty glass down on the nearby counter.

“Imagine coming from the same womb as her,” she sighs, turning her attention back towards her phone, rolling her eyes as she says, “I’m sorry. He should be here soon. Um…let me put a couple more boxes outside the door so it’s easier for you guys.”

Toji nods at her words, watching her as she walks off to one of the areas and brings down at least two boxes. His eyes couldn’t help but linger on her for just a few moments as she walked, his eyes boring at her ass. 

He shakes away his thoughts as she comes back into the kitchen as he asks, “You got a lot more stuff to move?”

“It’s just boxes, a lazy boy and my sofa. I hope it isn’t too heavy for you guys, I seriously don’t mind helping,” she offers, staring in between the both of them, “It’s gonna be hot, and my daughter is gonna talk your ears off while this happens, so I want to extend an olive branch.”

He shakes his head, “You don’t gotta’ worry about it, momma. We move heavy shit all the time,” he answers, his eyes locked onto hers. 

She nods, “Okay, well—how about I buy you some cigarettes? Some top dollar shit. I saw you smoking before you knocked on the door. Whatever you smoke—on me. Or I can make the both of you a little astray—Yeah?”

Toji raises his eyebrows, a little bit surprised at her offer as he asks, “You’ trying to bribe me?” giving her a smirk again as he spoke.

She giggles awkwardly, “No! No. I just—feel bad for making you guys wait. Seriously, let me do that for you. Otherwise I might cry.”

“You gonna cry if you don’t buy any cigarettes for us?” 

She was adorable. Actually adorable to him. 

She rolls her eyes, “I’m tryna’ be nice here. I could be like my hoe-ass sister.”

His chuckle is attractive to her. She didn’t mind hearing it as he then says, “That’s cool too. I’d rather you not feel like you have to do something for us, we can wait on your ex-husband.”

She then sighs, crossing her arms almost like a child. She finishes off with,  “I’m getting the cigarettes—Actually, if you don’t mind, I think you guys should at least move the sofa first. That’s the biggest thing— and the heaviest, so you can do that now. I’ll grab some more water, and the rest can wait until he gets here.”

Once he nods to his partner, she makes her way back to the kitchen, glancing at her phone and trying to call Nathaniel.  No answer. Again. As she puts her phone up to her cheek, she watches from afar as both men grunt, effortlessly picking up the large furniture. Her eyes glance over Toji’s large arms, flexing as he holds the sofa up on his shoulder. She wonders what else he can hold up in the air like that.

So much for a phone call back. As they make their way outside towards the truck, a car comes speeding into the driveway, Stoney nearly rolling her eyes as she jumps at the abrupt vehicle. Both men halted their movement, placing the sofa down as they were at alert from now fast the car was moving. 

She calls to both Toji and his partner, “You guys okay?” 

“We’re fine.” Toji answers, his eyes then falling on the now parked car, watching as the driver's seat opens. Stoney hid her irritation as her ex-husband had finally arrived back to his own house. 

“You’re late, Nathaniel.”

He steps out of the car, not at all acknowledging the truck or the two men that stand across from it. He lets out a scoff as he slams the door, “I said I’d be here at 12. I’m here now, aren’t I?” 

He then looks over at Toji and his partner, an unreadable expression on his face. “You brought movers? You don’t even have that much shit.”

“You hired them, did you forget?” She frowns, ignoring his light jab, “You’re supposed to pay them. This is your house, Nathan.”

Nathaniel smacks his lips, “I’m here, why are you still talking? You’ just wanna hear yourself complain.” 

Toji raises an eyebrow, his partner glancing at him as he fully takes his weight off of the sofa he leaned into. He asks, “You’ good?” 

Stoney blinks at the question, shaking her head as she says, “I’m okay—“

“I’m asking him.” 

When she realizes that he was asking Nathaniel, her eyebrows raise. The sweet nature he’d given off faded quickly, seeing as he looked between her and her ex-husband, his face entirely serious. She wasn’t sure why her heart was beating so fast. 

“Can you just pay them, please?” She tries to change the subject, hoping that this man stops looking at Nathaniel. His stare was deadly. 

Nathaniel frowns towards Toji before muttering, “Whatever,” shoving his hand into his pocket as he then takes out a wad of money, reaching it out to him. 

Toji doesn’t budge, flicking his eyes down to the money before looking back up at him. His partner then reaches out as he presses his lips into a thin line, taking the money himself as he politely thanks him.

Nathaniel then turns his attention back towards Stoney. He eyes her in a way that she didn’t appreciate, almost as if he was disgusted with her. 

“Don’t you think you wanna put some clothes on?” He glares at the dress she wears. 

Another thing Stoney was aware of, now that they weren’t together, he couldn’t call her insulting terms as a result of the way she dressed. But that didn’t mean his reactions didn’t hurt. She crossed her arms, biting her cheek as she turned away, making her way back into the house to keep herself from becoming upset.

His employee immediately counts it to see how much they were given, while Toji’s eyes linger on the ex-husband as he continues to speak. 

“Did she plan to get dolled up for some movers?” Nathaniel asks, scoffing once more.

Toji then interrupts, “You’ only gave us half of what you owe.”

Nathaniel’s head snaps over to Toji as if he’s shocked by the sound of his voice, as if he was surprised that he’d even spoken to him again. He snarls, “I gave you exactly what was agreed on.” 

Toji’s eye twitches at the guy’s words. He counters, “You gave us fifty percent.  We agreed that you’d pay a hundred percent upfront.”

“What are you tryna’ say? That I can’t give you the money you seem to need so badly?” Nathaniel twists his face up. 

Toji’s partner then tries to keep the peace as he calmly responds, “Sir, that’s not what we’re saying—“

“‘Fuck are you getting pissy for? You agreed to pay us a hundred percent upfront before we even showed up here,” his jaw clenching, “I was nice enough to be here longer than I was supposed to be on account of your ex-wife who apologized for your fuck up’s. I could add charges onto my shit if I wanted to.”

“Everything okay?” 

Stoney appears back outside, holding a box that she seems to struggle with a bit, her eyes falling against Toji who seems to be upset.

Toji’s eyes fall onto Stoney when she appears back outside, and for a moment he had almost forgotten about her from how pissed he was. His irritation and anger towards Nathaniel quickly melted away just at her presence.

“Everything’s fine,” Toji flatly answers, when in reality he wanted to choke-slam this man through his own vehicle. 

Nathaniel laughs mockingly to himself, shaking his head with disbelief, “Of course, it’s fine. This mover is just giving me a hard time for some extra cash.” 

Toji’s jaw clenches again. Yeah, he was definitely creating a hole in the front of his raggedy ass car—with him in it. But before he can retaliate, he remembers Stoney struggling with the box in her hands. He comes up to her as he takes the item from her arms, essentially trying to calm himself. 

“Nathaniel, please stop being rude. Whatever else needs to be covered, I got it,” she brushed off, not wanting a scene to happen in the drive through. 

She watches as Toji then comes forward to take the box from her hand, a breath releasing from her as she exhales with a weak smile, “Thank you, you’re sweet. Um—is everything really okay?” She asks more softly.

Her ex-husband mutters something under his breath as he makes his way past them to go into the house, Toji paying him no mind. His eyes stay focused on Stoney, seeing as she follows behind him towards the truck. 

“I’m good,” he reassures, “Your ex-husband’s a fuckin’ idiot.”

That makes her quietly laugh, “World renowned news. How about I go get those cigarettes, and then we meet back up to head to my place, yeah?”

The corner of Toji’s lips twitches into a smirk once more at her words. He felt comforted by her, it felt strange. 

“Yeah, that’s fine with me,” he answers back, letting out another subtle chuckle, “We’re almost done loading the heavy furniture anyways…just the smaller stuff left.”

She nods, “Good. Don’t worry about him. He’s…a stupid-head,” she rolls her eyes.

“A stupid-head, huh?” 

“Dare I say— an idiot-box. Anyways, let me go. I’ll see you guys in a bit.”

 She waves him off with another smile, hips twisting naturally as she makes her way towards her car. Toji watches her walk to her car, his eyes catching glimpses of her ass once again as she walks, a sight that he definitely wasn’t complaining about. 

“See you…” he says back, his eyes lingering on her until she disappears into the car.

About an hour passes, by the time she arrives back to a place she used to call home, she holds a plastic bag with a couple of cigarette cartons, new paint bottles, and gloves for her future projects. 

The moment she pulls into the driveway, her daughter comes running outside. She halts the car, stepping out as she gripes, “Jesus, Sai! Please don’t run in front of Mommy’s car.”

“I’m sorry, mommy!” Sai pouts, running towards her anyways, coming up to her mother and hugging her leg. 

Stoney reaches down and scoops up the girl into her arms, picking her up quickly, “You gotta be careful, baby. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Okay, mommy,” Sai replies, her voice still young and high. 

Toji and his partner watch as Stoney scoops the girl up into her arms, his eyes flickering between her and her daughter as she walks closer to them. 

She presses a kiss to Sai’s cheek, which makes her giggle. She then turns to Toji, seeing as the sun now has him drenched in sweat, dripping down his arms and into his shirt—his overalls now pulled down past his hips— the sight making him look even more attractive. 

She brings her focus back to his face as she asks, “Uh…you guys ready to go?”

He lifts the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead, the fabric getting stuck to his skin for a moment. He then looks over to her again when she speaks, his eyes flickering down to the plastic bag in her hand. 

“Yeah, we’re ready,” he answers back, nodding.

Once she puts all of the rest of her things into her car, it takes them about thirty minutes to get to her house. It looked almost similar to a condo, the divorce settlement paying off the debt of this house—a place her and her daughter could grow up together. Maybe start a family of their own—without her ex-husband. But unfortunately, he was always going to be Sai’s father. 

As she opens the door, she watches as Sai gasps excitedly at the home. She giggles as she runs around the halfly furnished home, spinning in circles with all the room she has. 

 Stoney smiles, “You like it, baby?”

“I love it, mommy!” 

 Toji and his partner trailing behind them, the both of them taking a glance around, silently observing the place before Toji comments,  “Nice house.”

Stoney sighs, “The bastard paid for it. Not by choice. Word of advice, don’t not sign a pre-up to someone you won’t end up with. Otherwise, they’ll strip you for all you have,” she winks, scanning her eyes around the black and white modern home.

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience,” he mentions, a small grin forming across his lips. 

His partner lets out another subtle chuckle from his side.  The two of them follow behind her and the little girl as she shrugs, “Heard that from a friend or something.”

A marble white kitchen island stretched for days on end. It was a beautiful sight, and she felt blessed to have this with her baby girl. Sai’s bedroom was upstairs, Stoney’s bedroom large and on the first floor, tilting right across from the front door to where she could see onto her porch. It was perfect.  She watches as they begin bringing more boxes inside, having a thought resurface that had her curiosity peak. 

“So, what’s with the snake on the side of your truck?”

At her question, both of the men looked over at where she was looking. Toji sees the logo on the side of the truck and then looks back at her. 

“Thought’ it was cool, it also symbolizes the power of healing,” he briefly explains.

“He’s full of shit. The crazy bastard catches snakes in his downtime,” his partner concludes.

Stoney’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. There was no way in hell she'd actually heard him say that.  She exclaims, “Oh hell no! I’d rather die than be inches close—feet close—FOOTBALL field feet close to a snake!”

His partner laughs, Toji rolling his eyes at her words, “It’s not that bad, I promise you,” he answers back. 

His partner lets out another laugh, “He’s lying. It’s terrible.” 

As Toji shoots a glare at his friend, Stoney then interrupts, “Sounds terrible. Do you like catching them? What happens after you catch them?” 

Toji looks at her as he’s asked the questions, watching the confused yet concerned expression on her face. Her brown eyes sparkle in curiosity. 

“You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?” he teases, a smirk forming across a smug smile. He chuckles, “It’s not terrible, seriously. If it’s a business call, it’s to remove them from jobs, apartments or houses. Recreationaly? I just like to catch them, take some pictures with them and then let them go.”

“Yeah—no. You could give me a billion dollars, and a unicorn that shits a hundred dollar bills. I still wouldn’t touch a snake. That was made by the devil!” She shivers.

Toji lets out another laugh as she speaks, finding her words to be amusing despite how over the top they may have been. He’ll admit that snakes aren’t the most appealing creatures, but they’re not the worst. 

“I promise you, they’re not as bad as you think they are,” he answers back, lifting up one of the furniture pieces with his partner, “And they’re more scared of you then you are of them.”

“Bullshit! If it was more scared of me, it wouldn’t bite me! Or be poisonous!” She follows behind them, going around to open the door wider for them to pull the sofa in.

“You don’t have to worry about them biting you if you leave them alone, momma,” he counters. 

His partner laughs as he walks backward through the door, helping Toji carry the furniture as he instigates,  “You’d be surprised at how many times he gets bitten.”

“And you lived?! Is a premonition moving my boxes right now?” 

“You mean apparition?” His friend asks.

“Whatever the fuck!” She exclaims back.

“Y’all are dramatic as fuck,” Toji finalizes. His partner lets out another laugh from his words, rolling his eyes as they finally get the furniture into the home.

She then says, “My sister might’ve been right. Maybe you are crazy.” 

The moment she hears both men chuckle, Sai then comes back into the living room as she calls, “Mommy! Did you ask Daddy about my orchids?”

Stoney sighs, remembering the promise she’d made to her daughter earlier that morning. She nods, “Yes, baby. Let me ask again, okay?”

When she sees a look of confusion along Toji’s face, she shakes her head as she explains, “Sai wanted to start a garden since the front door kinda has a porch area. She always loved plants, I guess she essentially found an art for herself. She wants orchids as her first flowers.”

“Orchids, huh?” he comments, his attention returning to her, “She’s got an expensive ass taste.”

Stoney rolls her eyes, “Very. But—gimme’ a second? Let me make a call, and I’ll be back.” 

She gives a soft smile, turning away from them as she makes her way back outside, going to grab for the bag of groceries she’d bought earlier that included their cigarettes. She calls Nathaniel, sighing as he doesn’t pick up until the last ring. 

“Hey—uh, did you end up buying those orchids for Sai today? I sent you those pink ones I saw, they were at a florist not too far from your place. I checked already.”

Nathaniel lets out a scoff as he answers the phone, “That’s what you’re calling me about? No, I haven’t.” 

He sounds irritated, like he’s got more important things to do then to buy some flowers. Stoney could feel herself becoming more irritated than he seemed. 

“I’ll get them when I get the chance,” he finalizes bluntly.

“…But she asked for them today, Nathan. You told me you were gonna get them for her, otherwise I would’ve gotten them myself?” 

She brings her eyes towards the front door as she sees Toji and his partner adjusting the sofa within the living room, trying to keep her composure. She also didn’t realize that Toji could practically hear her conversation.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…I know I said I would,”

Nathaniel responds, not really sounding all too interested in talking to her.

There’s a moment of silence before he speaks again, “What’s the big deal? They’re just flowers.”

“That’s not the point. I just wish you would’ve done it today. It might be flowers to you, but it’s more than that for her.”

“Why are you making such a big deal out of some flowers? I just said I’ll buy her the damn flowers, it doesn’t have to be today,” He answers back, annoyance clear in his tone.

She usually was very patient with this man. But from making a comment about her outfit, to snapping at the movers, to even now. She’d had enough of him for today. 

“Fuck off, don’t worry about it.”

She hangs up the phone, muttering, “Stupid ass nigga,” turning away from the front door as she feels her frown turning into frustrated tears, but she takes a deep breath to drop herself from doing that. She can feel her phone vibrating in her hands, Nathan seemingly trying to call her back after being cussed out. 

Nonetheless, she puts on a little smile as she makes her way back into the house, “Hey. I just—wanted to bring you guys your cigarettes.”

When she returns back into the home, he and his partner are in the midst arranging her furniture, both of them pausing for a moment. Toji notices her facial expressions and her hands clenching, clearly frustrated, which isn’t too surprising given that he can only assume who was the cause of that. 

“You’ good?” He questions, his eyes watching her carefully.

She scans his face, blinking. She then lies, “I’m perfect,” the question bringing tears to gloss in her sockets, but she quickly blinks them back. She didn’t mean for him to see that, but she just hopes he gets the message to not ask. 

“Um, well—you guys have really been amazing. I think I can take it from here. I just want me and Sai to enjoy the peace within our new home, yeah?”

Toji can see the way that her eyes glossed a little at the question, but he doesn’t bring it up in order to not further anger her. He doesn’t know if it’s his place to ask, so he leaves it be. 

“No worries,” he answers back, an attractive but kind smile forming across his lips, “It’s our job, after all. We’ll leave you to the rest of it, then.”

She watches as the other friend washes his hands within the kitchen sink, nodding his head as he begins to make his way out the door. She comfortingly plays with her hair again, lifting the plastic bag to Toji with a weak smile, “You’re really sweet, Toji. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Stop thanking me, I’m just doing my job, momma. Thank you for giving me some shit to do today,” her counters, taking the bag from her hands, his fingers brushing against her own that creates a jolt against her palm. 

With him being so respectful, she couldn’t tell if there was any spark between them—or he was just truly professional. When he said that, it made her realize that her feelings might’ve just been a spur of the moment—a distraction— a need to feel something that wasn’t the loathing of her ex-husband.

She pulls her hair behind her ear, multicolored studs climbing up her lobes as she finalizes, “Of course, yeah.”

Toji can see the way that she pulls back her hair, showing off the collection of piercings in her ear and on the sides of her face. He can see how they sparkle every time they’re met with the light, causing his eyes to stare at them for a little bit, almost admiring them. 

“I hope the move goes well,” he says, returning his gaze back to her, that same smirk returning back to his lips, “It was nice meeting you, Stoney.”

“Nice meeting you too.”

She feels almost as if she’s dissociating. She doesn’t even have time to react as Sai comes up behind her, politely waving, “Bye-bye! I’m gonna play with my dolls in my new room!”

Toji watches as her daughter comes up from behind her. He waves back with a small chuckle. “Bye, pretty girl,” he says to Sai. 

However, his eyes linger on Stoney for a moment, still unable to tell exactly what it is that she’s thinking or feeling.

She’s then pulled back into focus as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out what seems to be a business card. He takes her hand as he puts it within her palm, Stoney’s head leaning up as he’s closer than he’d been to her before.

Her head lifts up as her eyes widen slightly at the sudden closeness to him, watching as he leans just a little bit closer to her. 

“If you ever need anything, I’m an instant call away,” he says in a low tone, his eyes looking down at her.

She pressed her lips together at that. Hearing his tone of voice, it’s still quite vague. But maybe it’s…something. 

She nods her head, “Yeah, sure. Thank you.” 

“Yo, Fushiguro! Let’s be out!” His partner calls from the truck, arm out the window as he pats the side of the vehicle, pressing the horn lightly for his attention.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!” he calls back at his partner, but not before returning his attention back to Stoney, “Imma’ go. See you around.”

“Enjoy your um…cigarettes?” 

She tries to be polite, but she suddenly has the urge to cry. Why was she so sensitive? She’s not sure what about, but she really wants him to leave before she does so.

Toji can sense the way that her voice changes slightly, her tone and her words almost seeming like a subtle cue to tell him to leave and go now. He knows that there’s a change in the air, and something is…off. Either way, he doesn’t mention it. 

“Of course. I always do,” he chuckles, looking down at the cigarettes for a moment before looking back up at her, “Bye.”

She felt dramatic. Like a piece in that puzzle was missing. Like the ocean was filled with no water. To watch him walking away, catching sight of the broadness within his back was the last time she’d ever see it. She wasn’t sure if that’s what she wanted, but as she closed the door, she had to let it be. 

She then turned towards Sai, “Hungry, baby girl?”

                            °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧚

The next couple of days were better than she expected. She had used them as her own personal manic episode, getting no sleep as she made her new home an actual home. Green-leafed plants and flowers tracked all around the condo, dark rugs, paintings along the walls and art sculptures seated in different corners. 

She’d even created her space to work, an emerald rug along the floor with a couple of used t-shirts atop of it, above sitting the pottery wheel that was already dirty from a previous client's order. It was an apricot and pale blue mixture that created a Lillie flower, formed into an astray. Blank canvases also sat on easels in her station. She painted every once in a while if she really needed to express herself. 

She didn’t know how she ended up with a drawing that was a pair of gray eyes, staring over the picture until it meant something to her. Or maybe she was in denial—she knew exactly who they belonged to and what they represented. 

As the rest of the day passed by, she spoke to her sister about the smooth move she had, saying nothing as Serena complained to her about Nathaniel. She hung up the phone, wanting to cut that conversion short. 

It was now the evening, the sun still out but beginning to set soon. It was beaming outside. She helped her daughter water all the plants they’d begun to collect, making sure they got their nutrients for the day as they sat outside. When they finished with their project, she took Sai into the house as it was time for her bath, wanting to get her on a good sleeping schedule as she would begin school soon. She sat next to her against the tub as she played in the water, staring down at the picture she took of the canvas with the gray eyes. 

“Mommy? Did daddy say he was gonna bring me my pink orchids today?”

Stoney looks up at her, sighing at the question. She then says, “Of course, baby. Yeah. Um—He’ll bring them to you on your first day of school.”

Sai then cheers, “Yay!” clapping her hands, which causes Stoney to playfully clap with her, giggling to see her daughter so excited. Be damned if Nathaniel’s disappointments, she refused for her daughter to know of them. She was gonna make her happy whether he did his part or not— she’d get her a thousand pink orchids if she had to.

That happy moment quickly subsided. As she continued to sit with her daughter and stare at her phone, she could suddenly hear a noise that sounded unfamiliar to her. She frowns, sitting upward as she looks around, her body on high alert as it sounded like…hissing? 

When she turned her eyes towards where the sound was coming from—which belonged to the toilet— her eyes stretched in horror. 

The creature slithered its way out of the bowl, tracking its way out of the toilet as it had its eyes set on both Stoney and her daughter. 

She screamed as if it was a ten-pound rat, taking a towel as she snatched Sai from the tub, scurrying into her daughters bedroom as if that would protect them from the venomous beast.

Sai’s face instantly turns white as she sees the creature slither out of the bowl in the toilet, letting out an equally loud scream. Stoney’s eyes were wide with terror as she slammed the door behind her, now ducking in the corner of the pink room. 

Sai’s eyes widen as she looks up at her mother, tears forming in her eyes,  “M—Mommy,” she whimpers.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s fine—it’s just—fucking hell!” She curses, quickly drying her child as she tries to find her some clothes, “Let’s call daddy, okay? Wanna go look at our garden on the porch while we wait for him?”

Stoney’s body still shook with fear as she quickly dried her daughter off, trying not to let her see just how scared she herself really was. She tries to find some clothes for her, quickly dressing her as her heart rate skyrocketed. 

“Y-Yeah, let’s go to the porch and wait for daddy, alright?” she repeats again, trying to hide the terror in her voice. Sai nods her head, too scared to do or say anything else.

She was petrified of snakes. She’d always been, but she never had a reason to be this scared as she’d never seen one in person—at least not this close in vicinity. And now one was slithering around in her bathroom—in her home. Thinking on her feet, she placed the towel she’d dried Sai off with under the door, making sure it couldn’t escape anywhere else in the house.

 When she got her daughter dressed, she picked her up and took her outside, nearly wanting to vomit if she stayed in the house any second longer. Chills ran up her spine at a constant, just hearing the sound of it hissing in her ears. She paced back and forth as Sai sat in a chair on the porch, watering another plant of theirs with a doll in her hand, Stoney sighing as she waited for Nathaniel to answer the phone after her fourth time calling.

Stoney’s heart couldn’t stop racing, trying to hide her panic and her fear from her daughter. She felt sick to her stomach. 

“Please pick up…please pick up…” she whispered under her breath as the phone rang.

“Jesus, what is it?” Nathaniel finally picks up, answering in a sharp tone.

It’s almost as if her fear had ran away for a moment, being replaced with pure dread of this man’s tone. She ignores it as she tells him, “Nathan, I need you to come over. Like right now.”

“What, now? I’m right in the middle of a client, why do you need me so badly?” 

“I—there’s a fucking snake in Sai’s bathroom! And you know I am literally about to shit myself at the thought. Can you come get it, please?” She practically begs him.

When he hears her mention a snake being in their bathroom, he can’t help but scoff into the phone. This only worsens her frustrated and panicked state. 

“Seriously? It’s just a snake. Why do you always have to overreact to everything?” he says dismissively, clearly not taking her fears seriously.

“…I have literally been afraid of snakes since you met me, Nathan. Please don’t do this. Your daughter is also extremely afraid of them.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m aware. But is it really something I need to come over and take care of right this minute? I’m in the middle of a meeting,” he says, clearly more worried about his client than his child’s fears.

“Um, yes? Don’t you think your daughter’s safety is more important? We’re sitting outside and it’s hot as fuck, Nathan! Sai has school tomorrow and I want to get her to bed. Trust me when I say, you’re the last nigga I want to be calling right now.”

“Can’t you just capture it and let it loose outside?” 

“Capture it—you’ tryna’ be funny? Have you lost your mind? I’d rather the motherfucker pay rent and utilities before I go head to head with it!” She exclaims.

 She realizes that he’s no help. Taking a deep breath,  another resolution comes to her mind. It’s like a flash of her memories reflects the idea, the grey eyes within her picture blaring her thoughts. 

She then says, “You know what? I’ll figure it out. Bye.” 

He smacks his lips, “Bye.” 

As she hangs up the phone, she quickly runs into the house as she goes for her room, scattering around as she searches her dresser for something. When she finds it, she pulls the business card in front of her face, rolling her lips into her mouth as she quickly makes her way back outside, leaning against her front door with a sigh. 

She’s extremely hesitant as she dials the number. She knows it’s way past the business hours it says along the card. She feels terrible—but she also hopes he picks up. 

“Fuck,” she mutters, listening to the phone ring, “C’mon…”

The phone rang several times, each ring making her anxiety and panic grow more and more with each passing second. Her heart was racing, her hands were shaking, and she was feeling like she might actually go through with vomiting. 

“Hello?”

The familiar voice of Toji fills the other line, her whole body nearly about to go into shock as he picks up groggily. Oh god, had he been asleep? 

She wanted to jump for joy. She lets out the breath she’d been holding. Realizing that she probably sounds like a maniac breathing through the phone, she stutters, “T—Toji? Hi. Sorry. Shit. Fuck. Um—this is Stoney, do you…remember me?”

“Yeah. I remember you.” 

He can hear the panic and urgency in her tone, causing him to sit up straight, fully awake now, deep voice still lightly tired as he asks,  “What’s going on?” 

“I’m sorry. Oh my god, you were sleep. I’m so sorry. I mean it’s a little pass the sun setting, but—you probably been moving shit all day. Fuck. I’m so so sorry,” she sighs, “I’m a bad person. Fuck.”

Toji sighs into the phone, “Stop apologizing. I was just dozing off, don't worry about it,” he says, his voice still sluggish. He rubs his eyes, trying to wake himself up further, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I know it’s pass your business hours, but—t—there’s a snake in my daughters bathroom. My baby’s bathroom. And I have a really bad fear of snakes, and I literally am holding back my gagging as I’m talking about it. I—“ she presses her hand to her forehead, trying to fan herself with her free hand, “I tried to call my ex-husband and this bitch-ass-nig—ooh, lemme’ not get myself mad. He said he was too busy with a client. I’ll pay whatever you need, I just—please come catch this fucking snake before I actually have a mental breakdown.”

Toji can sense the sheer terror and panic in her voice as she explains the situation to him, and he can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her. She was right, he was tired from moving another house today. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to help. 

He sighs into the phone once again, rubbing his eyes, “I’m coming. Stay outside and don't go back in the house, okay?” he instructs her.

“Okay. Yeah. Of course, w—was gonna do that anyway. Please hurry, my baby has school tomorrow and she’s already sleepy, I can’t have her outside like this.”

“I’ll be there, Stoney.”

A grueling hour and a half passes, the sun setting yet it was still hot outside. Her attention peaks as she comes to see a sleek black Chevrolet Silverado 1500 pull in front of her yard. Heavy boots from days ago boomed along the ground as Toji steps out. 

He seems to be more comfortable today, the white compression shirt he wears clinging to his muscular frame, making the ink that hides within his chest and neck pop more against his olive skin and onyx hair. The black Nike cargos her wears don’t really match the shoes he wore, but she knew in the way she called, his attire didn’t seem to be his biggest concern.

 She couldn’t help but be reminded of how damn fine he was. She even felt slightly embarrassed as she stood in a hello-kitty oversized t shirt—her daughters favorite character—her hair claw clipped out of her face, square glasses along her face. 

As Toji makes his way to the porch, he can't help but notice how naturally pretty she looks, even in her oversized t-shirt and hair claw. He smirks to himself, feeling almost a little guilty for thinking of how attractive she is in this situation.

He stops a few steps away from her, seeing the fear and anxiety still etched on her face. He asks, "You holding up alright?" his voice a bit softer now.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Uh—sorry that I’m literally half naked right now. Should’ve grabbed some pants or something,” she apologizes, pulling her hair behind her ear reflexively before she pulls her hair out of the entire clip, letting it fall and trying to tame it down with her long acrylic nails. The shirt was big enough to cover her lower body, but he could still see the shape of her hips, her ass wanting to poke beneath the fabric. 

Sai sits up along her chair, leaning on the bar of the porch as she sees the familiar man. She greets with a gasp, “It’s you!”

“Wassup’, little one. You remember me, huh?” he asks, his voice still gentle.

Sai nods, “Are you coming to kill the bad evil snake in our house?” She tilts her head, “I don’t want him to eat my teddy bears. Or my hello-kitty. I’ll be really sad.”

Toji chuckles at her answer, finding her worry over her stuffed animals endearing. "Don't worry. I won't let the snake eat your stuffed animals," he reassured her.

He looks back at Stoney, raising an eyebrow at her. "How big is this snake anyway?" 

“Big as fuck. Literally big as the fucking-fuck,” her voice goes back into panic, “I know I’m dramatic, but that hoe was large. Not even normal enough to be in someone’s fucking drain. Probably was poisonous. What if I was on the toilet? I would’ve literally died from a snake bite in my ass,” she pressed her hands to her chest, leaning against the porch frame at the thought, “I’m about to rip my fuckin’ sew-in out.”

He squints, “I don’t think you can rip that out, don’t you have to cut it?”

She narrows her eyes at him. She then squints, “How you’ know that? Why do you know that?” 

He shrugs as she then shakes her head, “Nevermind. We’re wasting time when that snake is having a fuckin’ kickback in my bathroom.”

"Don't worry, I won't let the snake bite your ass,” he says, his tone a bit more playful now.

She turns to him, “Are you laughing? This shit funny? If I wanted someone to make fun of me I would’ve called my ex-husband! I’m literally about to cry,” she shakes her head, feeling tears forming at his amusement. She knows she’s dramatic, but she’s scared.

Toji sighs, realizing that she's not appreciating his attempts to lighten the mood. He takes a deep breath and steps closer to her, taking her hands into his.

"Cut that shit out, I'm not trying to make fun of you. I'm sorry," he says sincerely, looking into her eyes. "I understand you're scared, and I'm not here to laugh at you. I'm here to help."

She nods her head, sniffling, “Okay. Okay,” squeezing her palms together within his hands as she takes a deep breath.

"Good. Just keep taking deep breaths, alright? I'm gonna go in there and get rid of the snake, and then everything will be fine. Just stay right here with Sai, okay?"

She nods her head, watching as he enters the house. She then calls, “Please don’t die! I don’t have insurance on this place yet!”

"I'll make sure to tell the snake about your insurance policy!" 

A weak laugh pulls from her at that, and she somewhat felt relieved. It feels like time drags by as she waits for him. Once almost thirty minutes passes, she takes a sleepy Sai back into the house as she allows her to lay on the sofa. 

She hesitantly makes her way towards the bathroom as she calls, “Toji?” Slowly peeping her head into the door.

As Stoney peeks her head into the bathroom, she finds Toji standing there, looking completely unfazed by the snake that was coiled up in the bathtub. He's leaning against the counter, examining the snake with a mix of curiosity and nonchalance.

He looks over at her as she calls his name, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah?" he responds, his voice relaxed.

She stares in between the snake and him, “Oh hell, not the bitch taking a bath!” She exasperates, “Uh—y’all having a conversation or something ? You’re not gonna kill it?”

"Nah, just getting to know each other," he says, an amusement in his tone. 

He pushes himself off the counter, walking towards the snake and going to pick it up as he says, “It’s a garter snake—practically harmless. Can’t do shit to me or you.”

Just when he says that, the snake pounces forward, wrapping it’s mouth along his arm where his tattoo sat. Stoney squeaked, throwing her hands over her mouth as she backed up again. 

“Oh my god!” She panicked, “Are you okay? Are you gonna die?!” 

Toji shakes his head. He’s completely unfazed as he picks it up with ease, holding it in his hands as if it were a piece of rope before he replies, “He’s just a little pissed off. It’s not venomous.” 

The snake wraps itself around his bicep, almost becoming comfortable against his forearm. He brings himself closer to Stoney as he shows her, “See? He’s good now.”

She covers her eyes, “That’s not the thing I saw earlier! He turned into a baby snake so he could make me feel stupid!” She shrieks through her hands, covering her now red face.

"This is the only snake I see here. You sure you're not just seeing things?" 

She pulls her hands down slowly, looking at the small creature. Instead of it being the rattle snake she saw within her mind, it had beady eyes, no thoughts within its brain. It might not have even had full on teeth. 

She looks at it again, “A garter snake?”

"Nothing dangerous, I promise," he reassures her, gently stroking the snake's head with his finger.

“It wouldn’t have bit me in my butt?” She questions.

"No, it wouldn't have bitten you in your ass,” he chuckles, “Garter snakes don't bite unless they feel threatened, he tried to escape earlier when he saw me, so he was a little irritated. Wanna see—“

“Aht—okay, that’s too much. Harmless, I can believe. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” she shakes her head, backing up against the wall within the hallway. 

“You were acting like his ass was a damn python.”

“Fushiguro, take you and your cousin outside before I become the scariest thing in this bathroom.” 

“Who knew me and your ex-husband were related?”

She gives him a blank stare, “You’ think you’re funny?”

“A little,” he mutters, going past her out of the bathroom as he coos, “C’mon, Nathaniel. Outside where you belong…”

She rolls her eyes as she mutters, “My hero.” 

Sai was on the sofa dozing off, eyes becoming wide as she watched Toji walk past her.  She sits halfway up from the seat, as she expresses shockingly, “Woahhh! Mommy—a snake!” 

“A demon!” Stoney corrects, coming around the corner, “He’s going back outside with his family. Say bye to Toji’s friend.”

“Bye Toji’s friend!” Sai waves.

“Thought Sai was afraid of snakes? Or were you just using that as a coverup for your fear?” He teases, waving at her as he walks outside towards the trees. 

She warns, “Hey, not too much on me and my fears.”

When he released it outside, she leaned against the porch door, her eyes watching his muscular figure and broad back flex as he stood back up. 

She then sighs, “Thank you, Toji. Seriously. I thought I was gonna die. How much do I owe you?”

"Don't worry about that," he says, waving his hand dismissively, "I’m good on the money. Got more than enough.”

She crosses her arms, “Well my bad, pimp, since you got it like that. You’ sure though?  Maybe I can get you another pack of cigarettes or something? Although in these last couple of days, I hoped you’d kicked your bad habit.”

"Unfortunately I’m still an addict, maybe I’ll sleep it off.”

She rubs her arms, laughing awkwardly at his response. She then apologizes, “Um…well thank you again, you’re a sweetheart. I’m really sorry I woke you up.”

“What did I tell you about that constant apologizing shit? You’re fine, Stoney.” 

She blinks for a moment, watching as he pulls a cigarette from his pocket, searching for his lighter in the other. His voice could be rough, but he was the complete opposite. 

“Boy, hush. Anyways—was traffic bad or something? I was worried something happened to you, it almost took you two hours to get here.”

If only she knew that Toji nearly lived an hour and a half outside of town, she wouldn’t have called him. 

Toji hesitates for a moment, not wanting to reveal how far it actually took him to get there. But he figures there's no point in lying to her now.

"Nah, traffic was fine," he says, scratching the back of his neck. "I just live kinda far, that's all. Almost an hour and a half from here."

“What?!” She panics, “Toji, what the hell? I wouldn’t have asked you to come? I would’ve called the fire department—or Jesus himself, they would’ve been easier to get than you! Fuckin’ hell, I’m so sorry.”

“Stoney.” 

“It’s literally late as hell for you to be driving…”

She thinks on what she’s about to say, wondering if this was crazy for her to ask. She figured, fuck it. 

“How about you’ stay here tonight? I can order whatever you like, you can rest up for tomorrow, I have no projects for tonight so—you can sleep peacefully, I promise me and Sai are quiet.”

Toji raises an eyebrow at her suggestion, surprised by her offer. "Stay here for the night, huh?" he says, mulling it over in his mind.

He couldn't deny that the thought of a comfortable bed and a quiet night to sleep sounded appealing. 

"I mean, if it's really no trouble," he says, a smirk on his face. "I won't say no to a free meal and a comfy bed."

“Thank god, I thought I was gonna have to kidnap you. Well, c’mon then, snake whisperer.” 

She turns away from him, the natural sway in her hips returning as her slender eyes blink back at him in a way that looked more sensual than he expected. 

Her voice goes soft as she then asks, “You’ coming?”

As Toji watches her walk away, his eyes drift down, taking in the alluring sway of her body. He shakes off the thoughts as he forces his eyes back up to her face.

"Yeah, I'm coming," he replies, his voice slightly huskier than usual.

She ends up putting Sai to bed as she notices her dozing off along the sofa. As she walks up the stairs, Sai gives a soft, “Bye snake-man,” to Toji, a tired wave coming from her tiny hand.

Toji can't help but smile at the sound of Sai's sleepy voice. "Bye," he says, waving back at her.

She clasped her hands together as she came back down the stairs, noticing as Toji was now looking around her living room, an eye now on the painting she’d created. The gray eyes. Shit. 

She tries to distract him as she asks, “Uh—anything you feel like eating in particular?”

Toji nods as he looks at the painting on the easel, his gaze lingering on the gray eyes painted along the canvas. He can't help but feel a strange sense of familiarity, but he shakes the feeling off as he looks away.

"I'm not picky, I'll eat whatever.”

She sighs, “You’re such a simple man. You must get that from your father,” she tells him, going into the kitchen as she exhales, “How about pizza? It’s simple, I know. But I’ve been doing projects for the past couple of days with moving so— I’m all out of energy to cook, otherwise you would’ve gotten a four course meal.”

"Pizza sounds good," he says, a small smile on his face. "And trust me, I'm not complaining, I think I’ll survive without the four course meal."

“Great,” she agrees, going into her phone as she begins ordering online. She then brings her eyes back to him as she then asks, “Hm…how about, some wine? My sister was in love with this bottle, maybe you’ll like it too?”

“I trust your sisters opinions, shit is probably good.”

“Oh? I thought you said she was too much at one point?” She raises an eyebrow, pulling out a wine glass and a regular glass cup.

"She is. That doesn’t make her less intelligent," he adds, a hint of a challenge in his voice, "I trust you too, you know. I trust that you wouldn’t give me a shitty glass of wine."

“You trust me? How do you know I’m not a succubus trying to suck your lifeline?” She questions, not directly looking at him. For the time they’d known each other, he hadn’t directly flirted with her. She was trying to test the waters, seeing if he’d take the bait.

At her comment about being a succubus, Toji lets out a hearty laugh. He smirks at her question, his eyes watching her intently. He leans forward a bit, his muscles flexing under his t-shirt.

"I think I’ll be fine,” he replies, voice smooth.

Hearing that almost was like a slap in the face. Maybe she was just bad at flirting. This man didn’t seem the least bit interested in her, why did she keep trying?

She pours his glass within the cup as she hands it to him politely, sighing at her failed attempts at flirting as she says, “Tell me how it tastes.”

As he takes the cup of wine from her, he can’t help but notice the shift in her demeanor. She suddenly seemed deflated, her shoulders slumping slightly. He then takes a small sip of the wine, swishing it around in his mouth for a moment before swallowing.

"Hm. It’s not bad," he says, his voice nonchalant. "It’s smooth and fruity, with a bit of a kick. I’d give it a seven out of ten.”

“Seven? I spent thirty dollars on that bottle! Better make that shit an eight!” She exclaims. She shakes her head, “I can’t take your opinion anyways, you like snakes!”

Toji laughs at her excalamarion,  "What, a seven isn’t good enough for your ass? I thought I was being generous," he teases. "Just cause I like snakes doesn’t mean I have a bad taste in wine. I’ll lie and give it a nine out of ten. Just for you.”

“Thank you,” she flips her hair, “I use to do wine tasting with my ex-husband all the time. Well— I’d be there and he’d just kinda sulk the entire time. A bit depressing now that I’m explaining,” she laughs awkwardly, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get all…sad.”

“You’re good, he seems like a pain in the ass.”

She nods her head, jewelry blaring under the light as she moves her hair from her face, “Pain in the ass is an understatement for sure.” 

As she takes a sip of her wine, she begins to notice the eyes that fall upon her. Her skin feels warm, turning towards him as she akwardly laughs, “What?”

He smirks at her question, his gaze unwavering. "What?" he echoes, his voice deep. "I'm just looking at you."

She nods, a small roll to her eyes as a knock comes to the door. She then says, “Probably the pizza,” stepping off of the table as she goes to pay the delivery person.

Just as she attempts to do so, she feels a body come behind her, the warmth of him nearly sending her body into a shock, a large arm reaching out as he hands the man whatever the amount was owed. 

She can’t protest before the door closes in her face, “Hey! I was supposed to pay,” her back against the door as he shuts it behind her, arm next to her head as the other holds the pizza box in his hands.

Toji chuckles at her protest, enjoying the way she pouts a bit like a child being told she can’t have a cookie before dinner. He stands close enough to her that she can feel the heat radiating off his body, his arm resting against the door just above her head. He looks down at her, a sly smirk on his face. 

"I’m the man, momma. I was supposed to pay regardless.” 

Her head is forced to tilt up at him a bit, the heat of his body catching her off guard. She could admit to herself it had been a while that she had been this close to a man—or even interested in one. It made her feel…virginal. 

She stepped away from the door as she says, “Well— thank you. I’m grabbing ranch! That’s the only way you eat pizza!”

She turns something on the tv for background noise as they become comfortable on the sofa, Stoney silently eating a slice of pizza as she notices how small he makes her couch look from him sitting on it. As she does that, a call goes off on her phone, seeing as it’s her ex-husbands contact. She ignores it, placing her phone back on her coffee table, sighing as she looks back to the tv.

He sees her face, raising his eyebrow as if he already knows who called. She rolls her eyes, “Guess he must’ve felt shitty after telling me I was being dramatic—granted, I was— but I’d rather you call me dramatic than your daughter.”

"Dramatic or not, you shouldn't have to deal with his bullshit," he says, his tone serious.

“It’s nothing new,” she shrugs, “It’s one of the more important reasons why we aren’t together. He told me I was dramatic about everything. Including when he told me to drop my business in order to focus on my pregnancy.” 

She doesn’t know why she goes as far as to say that, shaking her head as she apologizes again, “Sorry.”

He frowns, “He didn’t want you to have your business ‘cause you were pregnant? That’s stupid as fuck.”

She exhales, nodding her head as she continues, “Yeah, um—we got together when I was about twenty. I got pregnant with Sai when I was twenty-two, and we decided it’d just be easier to get married. But marriage…it makes you truly learn a person for who they really are. He wanted me to be this—traditional house wife. Cook, clean, shut up, give pussy on command—have all his babies and take care of them while he worked. I didn’t want that, I wanted to make something of myself, I had a life before him…or Sai. She’s my world, but that wasn’t gonna stop me from accomplishing my goals. I love my art. My little dumb ceramics, they make people happy. I just wanted to do that and have someone’s support…especially from the man that was supposed to be my protector.”

"That's bullshit," he says eventually, his voice low. "You shouldn’t have had to give up your art and passion to fit into some dumbass idea of what a wife should be."

She shrugs, “That’s what he wanted. Five years and I truly feel like that man knew nothing about me. It feels like I’ve wasted so much time. The only thing I don’t regret is Sai. She’s my everything,” she honestly admits, “And here I am now, I’ll be thirty in a couple of years, already a divorcè, and not as attractive as I use to be,” she chuckles, “I feel stupid.”

He frowns, “‘The fuck are you talking about? You don’t think you’re attractive?” 

She goes quiet. Her eyes come up to his, “I don’t mean to get all self-deprecating, I’m just…being honest.”

Toji shakes his head, his eyes still fixed on hers. "Being honest is fine, but saying some shit like that was stupid. You’re sexy as fuck, Stoney.“

His tone is firm, but there's a hint of something else there too—a note of sincerity that surprises her.

She places her legs under herself, a warmth coming to her face as she laughs weakly, “You’re just being nice cause I’m giving you my sob story.”

Toji scoffs, shaking his head as he looks at her. "I’m not the type of guy to say shit just to be nice."

He meets her gaze, unflinching and unashamed, as if daring her to question his words.

She presses her lips in a thin line, taking in his words. All of the insecurities she felt was caused by a man that didn’t love her the way she deserved to be loved—maybe she was just now realizing that. 

She gives him another weak smile as she softly says, “…Thank you.” 

In that moment, Toji stood up, remembering something. In the midst of chaos with the snake, he’d forgotten why it had also taken him so long to get here.

 Stoney asks, “You okay?” As he raises himself from the sofa. 

She watches as he nods before he says, “I forgot to grab some shit from my car,” before making his way outside hastily. 

Stoney sits up, a look of concern on her face. Did she say the wrong thing ? Was he leaving? Did she scare him off? 

“…Toji?” 

Another couple of minutes had gone by. Why was her heart beating so fast? 

But when he entered back into the house, her face and heart dropped. In his hand was what looked to be a vase full of salmon pink orchids, her ears ringing at the sight. She didn’t know that he’d heard the conversation between her and her ex-husband, practically begging him to get the one thing her daughter asked him for.

He approaches her, stopping in front of the couch and places the vase on the coffee table. The flowers look vibrant and beautiful, standing out against the dark counter.

He scratched the back of his neck as he awkwardly chuckled, "I uh…just thought you could use these."

The look on her face is unreadable. She wasn’t sure how to feel, her trust issues in fear of being hurt by anyone ever again. She didn’t know his intentions, but this didn’t feel bad at all. She takes the flowers, an almost sad smile coming to her face, her sensitivity giving her the urge to cry once more. 

She says softly, “…Thank you.”

Toji can see the vulnerability in her expression, the way her trust issues make her hesitate to accept his gift. He understands it—he has his own set of trust issues after all.

He doesn’t try to decipher what she’s feeling, instead, he just watches her take the flowers from him. He sees the sadness in her smile, and he feels a strange urge to wrap her in his arms and protect her.

"It’s no big deal," he says quietly. "Thought you could use some pretty flowers."

There it is, the urge to actually cry. All of her feelings and emotions, she’d been holding in, allowing people to step all over her, keeping quiet. They wanted to break in that second. She also had the urge to kiss him. To do more with him, but she didn’t know if he wanted to same. 

She quickly stands from the sofa as she rubs her eyes, laughing softly and turning her face away from him as she asks, “Um—I’m assuming you need to shower?” 

She could feel his eyes on her. It was worry, concern, but it was also…something else. She hadn’t had a man look at her like this in years, the urge to grab her and have his way with her. It intimidated her.

Toji watches as she stands up abruptly, her laughter coming out slightly forced. He can see the emotions in her eyes, the way her body language betrays her, and he can't help but feel a pang of empathy for her.

He watches her turn away from him, her question lingering in the air. He knows what she's asking, what she's hinting at. He can feel her tension, her hesitance. 

"Yeah," he responds, his voice low. "I could use a shower."

“You can use my bathroom, it has a standup shower. I made it all pretty with plants around the shelves within it, the water comes down from the ceiling, but no to a point where you drown—shit, am I rambling? Uh—okay. Let me just get you some towels.” 

She makes her way down the hallway to her room, feeling him following behind her. It was like a tug of her body,  a sudden pull she had for him. She wasn’t sure where it’d come from—her body felt hot. Maybe it was the wine. 

She sees him sit along the bed as she grabs a towel for him within the closet, calling to him, “Uh—any specific color of towel? I don’t know why I have so many…”

She knows she’s asking questions to distract herself from the moment, but why does she feel so shy?

Toji sits on the bed, watching as she rummages through her closet for a towel. He can sense her nervousness, the way she keeps talking to fill the silence. He suppresses a grin, finding it oddly adorable that she’s asking something so trivial. 

He responds casually, “No preference, any color is fine.”

“I feel like you’re a gray kinda guy,” she says, and she halts herself, hoping that it wasn’t any indication of that damn painting she made. 

She brushes it off, coming back out of the closet as she says, “Well, I got you a body towel and then a bathing towel. Hope you don’t mind smelling like vanilla and coffee, that’s the soaps I have. You’ll smell good though,” she rambles, placing the towels in front of his hands.

As she brings out the towels, he takes them from her, feeling the soft fabric against his fingers. He can smell the scent of vanilla and coffee wafting from her body suddenly, like a drug had induced his system out of nowhere. 

"Thanks.”

She stands with her hands pressed together, his eyes now boring into hers. Those damn gray eyes seep into her soul, scanning her every move. 

 She then pulls back from him, “Well—there you go. If you need help with the shower handles just—let me know.” 

It’s as if time was passing by slowly. His eyes were melting into her brain, disintegrating her body with just one look. 

He extends up to his full height, her head tilting once again to look at him, so much that it makes her step back. He walked around her, pulling his eyes forward as he stalked towards the bathroom. 

In one swift sound against her ear, he asks, “You’ coming?” 

She blinks. Maybe she hadn’t heard him correctly. She turns around as he continues walking with no look behind him, as if he wasn’t necessarily asking—He was telling her. 

“Huh?” 

"I said, are you coming?" he repeats, his voice low and sultry. Again, it’s not a question. It’s more like a command, a demand. His eyes lock into hers, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

The shock is evident on her face, her mind racing to catch up to what he’s just asked. Toji stands at the threshold of the bathroom, watching her processing his question. His eyes roam over her figure, taking in the way her body responds to his words. He can sense her hesitation, but he can also see the desire in her eyes.

"You heard me the first time.”

“You want me to… shower…with you?” She questions, almost confused, as if she needed to hear it again. 

Toji doesn’t say anything for a moment, just looks at her with a neutral expression. It’s like he’s studying her, trying to deduce her thoughts and reactions. 

When he speaks, his voice is low and almost mocking. “To shower with me,” he repeats, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

It was like a shift in his entire demeanor. Her eyes follow him as he fully walks into the bathroom, at the same time commanding, “Hurry up,” back muscles flexing as he removes his shirt, her eyes scanning the amount of ink plastered along his back before he disappears behind the door. 

Her feet wouldn’t push herself into walking. But as her mouth fell agape at the thought of showering with him, it pushed her to follow in after him. The lights were dim within her bathroom, plants all around her sink and side of the shower wall. It was big enough to fit her, but she wasn’t sure if it’d fit the both of them. Maybe that was the point. 

His body is turned the opposite way of her as he undresses, Stoney watching in almost awe, his body sculpted in a way that was terrifying. He doesn’t bother to turn around as he continues to undress, but he can hear the slight hitch in her breath as he reveals more and more of his bare skin.

Without thinking too much, she begins removing the shirt she wears and the underwear beneath them, throwing it to the side, hair now falling around her face and body. 

She watches as he steps into the shower, a broad frame going under the hot water that scorches his skin. He glares over to her, turning slightly to the side so that she catches a glimpse between his legs. It’s veiny, sinking down as it can’t hold its own weight, a dark pink flushed along the tip. His tatted arm takes the hand towel as he rubs it along himself, cleaning the dirt from earlier within the day. The sight nearly makes her faint. 

She feels like she does all of this with her eyes closed. She opens the door, Toji taking a step back as he wants her in front of him. The water drenches her hair, making the midnight black even darker as it flows down her waist. 

She pushes it out of her face, closing her eyes as she takes a deep breath, feeling him behind her. As she inhales, his hand lightly comes along the side of her hip, pulling her back towards him as his neck hangs down to reach her, brushing his mouth along her neck. 

"What are you doing?" Stoney whispers, her voice barely audible above the sound of the running water. Despite her words, she makes no move to pull away from him, instead leaning back into his touch.

Toji's lips curve into a smirk against her neck. "Isn't it obvious?" he murmurs, his hand sliding from her hip to rest possessively on her stomach. "I'm enjoying the view."

Stoney shivers as his lips trail along her neck, her pulse jumping beneath his touch. She can feel every hard inch of him pressing against her back, igniting a fire low in her belly. "But... we shouldn't..." she protests weakly, even as her body betrays her, arching into him.

"Why not?" Toji chuckles, nipping at her earlobe.

“It’s just…been a while …” she admits softly, jumping lightly again as his fingers slowly trickle down to her thigh. Her head falls up as she leans against him, beginning to breathe in a more shallow manner.

"A while since what? Since someone touched you like this?" 

Toji's voice is a low rumble in her ear, his breath hot against her skin. His hand slides further down her thigh, teasingly close to where she needs him most.

Stoney bites her lip, nodding jerkily. It has been a long time since she's felt desired, wanted. And the way Toji is touching her, like he wants to devour her whole... It's intoxicating.

“I…haven’t even touched myself,” she embarrassingly reveals.

If only she were lying. She hadn’t relieved her own stress nor had someone do it for her in months, she felt entirely backed up. She could all tell in the way his fingers trailed closer within her inner thigh, his free hand locking around her throat, causing her chest to heave up and down—he’s barely done anything to her.

Toji's grip on her throat tightens ever so slightly, a silent reminder of his dominance. His other hand inches higher on her thigh until his fingertips brush against the damp heat of her core.

Stoney gasps, her knees buckling as a jolt of pleasure shoots through her. "Oh god," she whimpers, her hips instinctively rolling back against him. She can feel his hardness pressing insistently against her ass, making her ache to be filled.

Toji's lips find the shell of her ear once more, his voice a husky whisper. "Tell me how bad you need it, Stoney."

“I need it—so bad,” she tells him softly, bringing her own fingers to where his hand was between her legs. The moment she does this, he catches her hand within his, pressing it under his own as he guides her fingers to the sensitive bud of her clit, gently brushing over it teasingly. Her hips arch towards him as she digs her teeth into her lip, desperately hiding another whimper.

With her hand trapped under his, Toji applies gentle pressure, circling her clit with deliberate slowness. "That's it, touch yourself for me," he encourages, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine.

Stoney's breathing grows ragged as she starts rubbing herself in earnest, her hips grinding against his palm. "Please, Toji," she begs, her voice trembling with need. 

“‘Fuck are you saying please for? Don’t beg me, show me what you want.”

His voice makes a deep whimper release from her as he guides her fingers to rub her clit with more pressure, her hips beginning to tremble as both her fingers and his rub in circles, making her arousal grow within her core.

"There's my good girl…" Toji praises, his hot breath fanning over her neck as he watches her work herself closer to the edge. 

Her body twitches each time she hits a certain pressure point on her clit, stopping herself from that release when it feels too much. His other hand is still along her throat as he tells against her ear, “Stop all that moving and shit. Let it feel good.”

Stoney's moans fill the steamy bathroom, echoing off the tiles. She's lost in a haze of pleasure, completely under Toji's control.

Her eyes roll to the back of her head when she feels his fingers drop lower, two finger sliding against her core before slowly sinking into her as he talks to her, “Need your pussy gripping my fingers,” her shallow breath making a soft cry at that, hips trembling wildly in reaction as he tsks against her ear, shaking his head as he demands, “Keep your fingers on your clit. I didn’t tell you to stop.” 

“T—Toji…”

 She whines, trying to rub her clit, unable to focus as his fingers sink in and out of her, his lips along her throat all too much. His voice against her ear as she shakes her head, teeth digging back into her lip.

"Shh, relax," Toji coos, his fingers curling inside her as he strokes her inner walls. "Let me take care of you."

She’d never felt this pleasurable in a while, only able to react in spasms. He nips at her earlobe, soothing the sting with his tongue before whispering, "You're so tight, baby. I love feeling you clench around my fingers." His thumb presses against her clit, applying firm pressure in sync with the thrusts of his digits.

Toji brings his face around, capturing her mouth in a deep, claiming kiss. His tongue delves past her lips, tangling with hers as he explores the wet heat of her mouth. He breaks the kiss only to trail open-mouthed kisses down her jaw and neck, leaving a path of fire in his wake.

"You look so fuckin’ good.”

Her four fingers now desperately rub her clit, Toji slowing his own movements as he just…watches her. Her chest heaves up and down as she pants, a pout nearly along her face as she cries softly to herself, “I—I’m so close…”

Toji smirks, his gaze fixed on her desperate fingers working her clit. "That's it, baby. Get yourself there."

He resumes his slow, deliberate thrusts, curling his fingers to hit that sensitive spot inside her. His thumb applies steady pressure to her clit, rubbing in small circles.

"Come on, let go," he urges, his voice a low rumble. "I want to feel you fall apart."

Stoney’s walls start to flutter around his fingers, signaling her impending climax. The hand against her throat comes up lightly as he grips her face, giving her a light tap to catch her attention. 

Toji leans in, his breath washing over her ear as he whispers, "Quit all that fuckin’ whining, make yourself cum.”

Stoney’s eyes squeeze together as she leans her head back against him, his free fingers finding a way into her mouth as he shoves them against her tongue. She can feel her abdomen tightening as she helplessly whines in response.

She tries to hide the soft drag of, “Fuckk,” beneath her mouth, her exhale causing her release. Her body goes into shock as she pushes out her arousal in a way she didn’t expect, squirting along his fingers.

Toji groans as he feels her squirt around his fingers, her warm essence coating his hand. "Fuck— yeah, that's it," he growls, continuing to pump his fingers through her pulsing walls.

He grabs her throat once again to hold her in place. Taking her hand that was along her clit, he slides it against her drenched core before he brings them up to his own mouth, sucking her arousal off of her fingers. 

Stoney slumps against him, boneless and spent as he praises, "You did so fuckin’ good, baby. Pussy tastes like I need to eat it.”

Trying to regain her composure from her orgasm, she shakes her head with her eyes closed as she whimpers, “I can’t wait…I—want you to fuck me, please.”

Asking nicely didn’t always get you what you wanted.  He turns her around to face him, pressing her against the wall as he lifts her legs to where her knees are along the shower's marble. He’s already kissing along her neck, attaching his lips down to her nipples as he wraps his mouth along them, roughly circling his head as he sucks the skin within his mouth.

He continues to suck on her nipples, biting and nipping at the sensitive buds until they're hard and throbbing. Releasing one from his mouth, he trails kisses down her stomach, dipping his tongue into her belly button before making his way lower.

"To beg for my dick... You must really want it," he murmurs against her skin, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. He spreads her thighs wider, exposing her glistening pussy to the cool air of the shower.

Leaning in, he drags his tongue up her slit, lapping at her juices before focusing on her clit. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive nub, flicking it rapidly as he hears her moan above him. 

"I don’t give a fuck about what you want. Gonna make you squirt on my face.”

She nearly rolls her eyes, gripping for his hair as she desperately moans, back arching against the wall as she feels almost helpless.

Toji growls lowly, his grip tightening on her hips as he devours her with renewed hunger. He buries his face between her thighs, his tongue plunging deep inside her as he fucks her with it. The lewd sounds of his eating fill the shower, mixing with her desperate moans.

"Mmmph... you taste like fuckin’ heaven, baby" he mumbles against her flesh, his breath causing her to tremble. He doubles his efforts, sucking her clit as he then dips his tongue back inside of her. 

He curls his tongue just right, rubbing that spot inside her that makes her see stars. "C’mon, c’mon,” he begs her, “C’mon, baby. Soak my fuckin’ face."

She grips his hair tightly as she brokenly moans, “Baby—oh fuck. Agh, fuck. I’m gonna—“ she gasps, unable to use her words as she feels tears nearly within her eyes, “Gonna squirt baby,” she gasps, “I—I’m gonna cum again.”

Toji's eyes flash up to meet hers, seeing the desperation and impending climax written all over her face. He smirks, knowing he's the cause of her unraveling.

 "That's it, baby. Cum on my tongue."

He doubles his efforts again, slurping and sucking at her clit as he thrusts his tongue deeper inside her. The vibrations from his groan against her sends her hurtling over the edge. Her body seizes, back arching as a torrent of liquid gushes from her core, drenching Toji's face and mouth.

He laps it all up greedily, drinking down her essence as he continues to eat through her orgasm. When she finally starts to come down, he pulls back, licking his lips with a satisfied grin. "Fuck—yeah, momma. That was good. So fuckin’ good.”

Her eyes are faltering closed as she’s still softly moaning as he comes up, putting her legs over his shoulders as she’s still slightly leaned against the wall. 

She puts her arm around the back of his neck as he lightly pressed his lips to hers, breathing along her mouth as he tells her, “I’m gonna put it in, that’s what you want, yeah? Tell me.” 

She states quietly against his mouth, “Put it in…slowly, please.”

Toji nods. He positions himself at her entrance, the thick head of his dick pressing against her slick folds. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pushes inside her, inch by delicious inch.

Her mouth lightly parts open, silence going between them now. She nearly pulls back from his lips as her eyes reflexively roll to the back of her head. 

She mouths so quietly, “Oh..my god,” unable to focus as he talks to her softly, “Slow like that, baby? Imma’ go deeper.” 

Stoney’s walls stretch to accommodate his size, a mix of pleasure and slight discomfort flashing across her features. Toji pauses when he's halfway in, giving her time to adjust. He leans in to capture her lips in a deep, sensual kiss, letting her taste herself on his tongue.

Breaking the kiss, he gazes into her eyes, searching for any sign of distress. She’s spent, head spinning as she deeply whimpers. He resumes his gentle thrust, pushing the rest of the way into her warmth until he's fully sheathed. He stays still for a moment, savoring the incredible feel of being buried inside her.

She tries to hold it in, but the long moan that comes from the depths of her soul releases against his mouth in a way that feels embarrassing. She grabs his hair, her eyes fully rolled to the back of her head as Toji grunts, “Damn.”

Toji lets out a low groan as he starts to rock his hips slowly, grinding deep into her tight heat. Each stroke sends waves of pleasure through his body, and he can tell from her reactions that she's feeling it too.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he growls against her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there. "Your pussy is gripping my dick like she needed this shit."

He picks up the pace gradually, sliding in and out of her with increasing intensity. The sounds of their flesh slapping together fill the steamy air, mingling with their heavy breaths and soft moans.

Toji grabs onto her thighs, spreading her wider as he pounds a little harder. He can feel her nails digging into his shoulders, urging him on. Yet at the same time, she’s almost pulling her hips back, nearly blacking out from how big he is. 

He shakes his head, “Don’t do that. Take this shit,” he grunts, Stoney whining in response, wrapping her arms around his neck as she sucks his lips into her mouth, attempting to relax.

She leans her head against his shoulder as she digs her teeth into it, being stretched in an almost delicious pain. Her moans drop out her mouth before she even gives them permission. 

Toji groans deeply as he feels her teeth sinking into his shoulder, the sharp sting only adding to the intense pleasure coursing through his veins. He loves the way she clings to him, desperate and needy.

"That's it, baby," he coaxes, his voice a low rumble. "Take every fucking inch." He punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust that makes her cry out, burying himself to the hilt inside her.

Toji captures her lips in a bruising kiss, swallowing her moans greedily. His tongue delves into her mouth, tangling with hers in a sensual dance. 

“He ever fuck you like this?”

She blinks, knowing he’s referring to her ex-husband. The thought almost makes her annoyed, an arrogant side to him that she hadn’t felt before. The question burned an arousal to her at the same time.

 She whispers, “Toji, stop it.” 

He then pulls her forward as he takes her weight off of the wall, making sure he has a good standing position against the tile floor before he properly fixes her legs over his shoulders, holding her by her lower back. 

He's suddenly lifting her up, dropping her down onto his dick in a way that makes Stoney gasp, the sound of her core clapping against his abdomen, she’s trembling out a deep moan, her eyes faltering down as she watches him do this.

Toji smirks at her reaction, pleased that she's clearly affected by his dominant display. He holds her steady as he pounds into her, each thrust sending her body jolting against his.

"Bet he can’t have you cumming all on his dick like mine, can he? Look at me.” 

He grips her tightly, using the leverage to drill deeper, faster. The sound of their flesh slapping together fills the steamy air, mingling with Stoney’s wanton moans.

Her eyes roll to the back of her head again as she tries to watch him, sheepishly whimpering out to him, “Ughhh, yeah. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckk.”

Toji leans in, his breath fanning across her neck as he nips and sucks at her sensitive skin as he talks, “See that? Thats how he should’ve been fuckin’ you. Making you take—Every. Fuckin’. Inch,” through each deep thrust he gives her, seeing the pleasurable tears that collect in her eyes, seeing as she throws her hand over her mouth to stop the embarrassing moans that plummet from her mouth.

"This pussy is mine now, huh?”

Her nails dig into his upper back, back of her thighs wet from her own arousal, latching onto his abdomen each time their skin harshly makes contact, bouncing her against him. 

Her eyes are dazed. She feels like she’s losing her mind as she talks back to him, “Yeahhh, baby. Fuckin’ yours,” she whimpers.

“Yeah?”

“Yeahhhh.”

“All mine?”

“Promise.”

“You sure?”

“Fuckin’ promise, baby. You’re fuckin’ me so goood,” she gasps deeply, his dark chuckle echoing in her mind as their skin claps together, Stoney squealing each time he bottoms out. 

Her nails dig into his shoulders as she tries to hold on, her body trembling violently, “Oh my god, oh god, I'm gonna...I'm gonna..." she sobs, her voice rising in pitch.

"Fuck, this pussy is mine now. Gripping me like this. Milk my shit dry," he commands, grinding against her as he chases his own release.

He slams into her hard, making her moan loudly. His balls slap against her ass with each thrust, the sound echoing through the room. He leans down to capture her lips in a rough kiss, his tongue invading her mouth as he fucks her senseless.

"You're so fuckin’ tight. Like you were made for me.”

Stoney breaks the kiss, panting heavily as she looks up at him with glazed eyes as she begs, “Cum in me. Cum in me, babyy.” 

Toji raises his eyebrows as he smirks, pleased by her desperation. He picks up the pace, fucking her with brutal intensity. "My dick has you talking crazy.”

She shakes her head, “Please,” she whimpers, “Don’t leave me, cum in me.”

“Not gonna’ fuckin leave you, pretty.”

Her orgasm feels close, her walls tightening at his words, almost feeling more meaningful than the moment. Pleasurable tears come to her eyes as her mouth drops open, the tears dropping as she cries softly, “Need you, I need you…”

He kisses away her tears, holding her chin gently as he stares into her eyes. He can feel her pussy fluttering around his cock, squeezing him tightly. 

"Not letting you go," he whispers, his voice low and intense. He pushes into her harder, faster, chasing their release. 

With a few more powerful thrusts, he buries himself deep inside her and stills, releasing directly inside her. He groans deeply, holding her close as he fills her up completely.

“Gonna cum, baby?” He asks, knowing the answer, just wanting to hear her whine, “Y—Yeah baby, I’m cumming…”

She gasps in a way she hadn’t before, as if she were breathing her last bit of air. She continues talking, “I’m…cumming. I’m cumming.”

Her moans become increasingly louder, causing Toji to grunt at the sounds, slowing his moments as they become more sloppy. He grunts as it turns into an equally low moan with her, both of them feeling their release soon.

Stoney’s climax hits, her inner walls clenching rhythmically around his thick shaft. The scream that comes from her mouth trembles along her lips, as if she didn’t expect it from herself. Toji lets out a guttural growl, his hips jerking erratically as he releases inside her. He holds her close, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he rides out the waves of pleasure.

After a long moment, he lifts his head, gazing down at her with a mix of satisfaction and something deeper. 

“You okay?"

His voice is husky, still affected by their intense coupling. He rocks into her gently, prolonging their shared pleasure until they're both spent and satisfied. Only then does he pull out carefully, admiring how his cum drips out of her well-fucked core. He strokes her hair gently, his other hand resting possessively on her hip. Despite the post-orgasmic haze, there's a new awareness between them, a connection forged in the heat of passion.

"Mhm." 

She pants softly as she tries to regain control over her breathing. Her body still tingles with aftershocks, her thighs quivering slightly from the intensity of their lovemaking. 

She looks up at him, her caramel skin glowing in the dim light of the bathroom. There's a vulnerability in her eyes, a trust that she hasn't shown anyone before. It's as if she's opened herself up to him completely, and the realization sends a thrill through her chest. With that, she pulled him back into a kiss. This man was either gonna be the best thing that happened to her, or the death of her. Either way—fuck it.

      🧚°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧚°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧚

THE SUN BLARING INTO THE HOUSE WAS WOKE HIM UP.  Toji slowly opens his eyes, the bright morning sunlight streaming through the room hitting his face. He turns his head to the side and sees her next to him, her body bare and exposed, her hair covering her face.

He watches her sleeping, feeling a mixture of emotions wash over him. He feels a strange sense of peace, a comfort in having her so close to him. He reaches out a hand, gently pushing her hair away from her face so he can get a better look at her.

She stirs, turning her head the opposite of the pillow. She lets out a soft breath, “Need to get Sai up…for school.”

He smiles slightly, amused by her half-asleep state as he says, “It's still early," his voice raspy with the remnants of sleep, "Sai can sleep a little longer."

“Mmmm, can’t. Nathan’s stupid ass is picking her up. So sleepy…” she pouts, digging herself deeper into the pillow.

“I fucked you good, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Toji lets out a low chuckle, amused by her sleepy grumbling. He moves a bit closer to her, his body still warm from the night before.

 "Why don't you go back to sleep then? I’ll handle Nathan."

She turns her head, peeking an eye open at that. She hesitates, “…You sure? You won’t punch him?” 

 "Can't promise I won't want to," he replies, his voice edged with annoyance, “But I'll try to play nice for your sake."

“‘Don’t have money to bail you out…” 

This makes him chuckle. Toji stands from the bed as he gives a kiss to her forehead, Stoney grunting as he gives a harsh smack to her ass. 

An hour passes, Toji now sat along the porch as he smoked a cigarette, manspread along the chair as he wore only his cargos, scarred lip twisting as he re-lit the end of the object. Sai slept quietly against the sofa, packed lunch and backpack along the side of her, still in her pajamas as Stoney told him she’d be getting dressed at Nathan’s place. The birds chirped in the early morning, a stoic look among Toji’s face as he continued to smoke with the front door open. He waited.

He glances occasionally inside to check on Sai, making sure she's still sleeping peacefully. He takes a drag of his cigarette, blowing out the smoke in a steady stream.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, a car pulls up in the driveway, and Toji recognizes it as Nathan's. He lets out a rough grunt, his muscles tensing as he waits for the other man to approach the house.

As Nathan steps from the car, Toji notices that he holds a bouquet of droopy and brown tipped flowers—pink orchids. Or at least, what would’ve been pink orchids.  When Nathan noticed Toji sitting along the porch, the most confused face came to his expression, only remembering him to be his ex-wife’s moving man.

Toji notices the mixture of confusion and annoyance on Nathan's face, and he can't help but snort in disdain. 

“Where’s Stoney?” Nathan glares, holding the death-written flowers, eyeing Toji’s half-dressed physique.

 Toji knew she was still sleeping peacefully, trying to be of help to her. His mind reflects to Stoney’s naked body passed out in the bed from their intensity within the shower. He wasn’t a dick, but maybe he wanted to be in the moment.

He lets out a sarcastic chuckle, his eyes looking Nathan up and down, "She's still sleeping," he replies, his tone casual and nonchalant. 

He leans back in his chair, the smoke from his cigarette filling the air as he takes a drag, his gaze never leaving him. He can see the irritation in the other man's eyes, and Toji revels in it.

“Well can you wake her up and tell her she should’ve been the one dropping her daughter off at the front door? I need to bring Sai back to my place before dropping her off to school,” he snarled.

"She’s good. She’s asleep for a reason," he replies gruffly. 

He takes another drag of his cigarette, blowing a stream of smoke in Nathan's direction which makes him cringe back. Toji then walks into the living room, taking Sai in his arms which causes her to stir awake. 

She kneels into him as she blinks, “Hi, Mr. Snake Man.”

Nathan watches with disbelief as Toji walks out with Sai in his arms, the girl blinking her doe eyes at the man as he responds, “Hey, kid," his voice gruff, a small smile forming at her sleepy greeting. 

He moves onto the porch, still holding Sai, as Nathan stands in the driveway with the dead flowers and a frustrated expression.

That’s when Nathan also notices the already blooming pink orchids on the porch. Toji leans towards him with a raised eyebrow as he passes Sai off to him, Sai then saying, “Bye Snake Man, take care of mommy!”

“Bye, little one. I will,” he chuckles, waving at her in the usual manner she did to him.

In all of that happening, Nathan's eyes widen as they catch a glimpse of the bedroom. His view was clear enough to see Stoney stirring in bed. Her naked body sprawls along the sheets, groaning as she pulls the comforter over her head to block the sunlight. 

He looks back at Toji, his expression of astonishment and anger. Toji just smirks back at him, enjoying the other man's reaction, leaving him with one last hanging sentence. 

"Yeah, she’s not getting up anytime soon.”

With that, the door slams in his face. 

[strwbwrrybunny]

doe eyed gal. kento nanami. 6k.

cw ᯓᡣ𐭩 nsfw link, oral, feet-fucking, squirting,creaming,hair pulling,handcuffs,anal plug,vibrator,spanking,unprotected sex, umm reader is on the thicker side (yummy), black bimbo,dirty talk.omfg I think that’s all . . . i lied, older!nanami has a crush on his young college neighbor! he luvvvvs watching you through his upstairs window. ironically, he’s also a police officer. woop woop!

a/n ᯓᡣ𐭩 i made a poll and daddy nanami won sooo, enjoy? i also based some of this on project x lollll. okay bye!

kento nanami never thought he’d be crushing on someone almost ten years younger than him. he thought it was nice when you’d moved in next door; the neighborhood didn’t get many new people in the area often. he would be lying if he said he hadn’t pulled back his blinds to watch as you moved your things in. hell, it was damn near impossible not to look at you.

with that tight mini skirt that your ass peeked from underneath and that cropped shirt that showed off your sparkling belly ring, the way your hair had swished in the wind, the way your smile was bright when you laughed—he found it all extremely enticing.

it’d become a part of his daily routine to peer at you through his blinds.on one hand, he was intrigued by your youthful energy and carefree spirit. you brought a certain vibrancy to the neighborhood that had been missing for a while. on the other hand, he was frustrated by the way you seemed to effortlessly capture his attention. it was as if you had some kind of magnetic pull that he couldn’t resist, and it irritated him to no end.

every time he caught a glimpse of you, his mind would wander. he often found himself thinking about what it would be like with you underneath him, how your moans would sound. were they whiny? deep? high?

he imagined what your voice sounded like, the sound of your laughter up close,the way your eyes might light up when you talked about something you were passionate about. but then, he’d shake his head, reminding himself that there was no point in entertaining such thoughts. after all, there was a significant age gap between you two, and he had no business getting involved with someone so much younger.

yet, despite his best efforts to ignore his hot younger neighbor, he couldn’t. he’d roll his eyes when you’d lead yet another guy by the hand into the house, a pang of jealousy rippling through his body. he put money on it that he could fuck you better than they ever could. he didn’t care if he was being irrational, he couldn’t push those thoughts of you from his mind, you plagued it.

currently, nanami kento is outside cutting his grass with a lush lawnmower. it’d been raining all week, and now that the sun was out, he was going to use this opportunity to get some work done on the outside of his home. the lawnmower hummed rhythmically as he pushed it across the yard, its blades slicing through the thick, wet grass. sweat glistened on his inked muscles, tracing rivulets down his arms and chest. the sun beamed off his tanned olive skin, highlighting the intricate designs of his tattoos. the air was filled with the fresh scent of cut grass, and the sound of birds chirping added a serene backdrop to his labor.

he figured you weren’t home today since he didn’t see your blue honda outside, he was kind of bummed. usually, he’d pay someone to cut his grass due to his busy schedule. but this time he’d decided to do it himself, a part of him hoping he’d finally get a chance to speak to you. just his luck you wouldn’t be home. why the fuck was he acting like some lovesick teenager? that was just the effect you had on him.

he’s startled as he feels a pair of cold hands against his shoulders. he quickly spins around, meeting those familiar brown eyes he’d seen from the window many times. fuck, you’re even sexier up close. your dark hair is pulled into two pigtails with pink bows holding them in place, big lips lined with brown with a glossy coat, your makeup is a dewy pristine canvas, wispy lashes framing your big brown doe eyes perfectly.

his dick twitches as you suck a lollipop, eyes staring into his vibrant brown ones as you pop it out of your mouth with an innocent smile. fuck. you have to be doing this on purpose, were you? the way your tongue slowly swirled around the candy before pulling it out was almost hypnotic. the sweet scent of the lollipop mixed with the faint aroma of your perfume, creating an intoxicating blend that made it hard for him to think straight.

“m’sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.i’m ʚ♡ɞ,” you giggle, extending your hand to the older man. your eyes unashamedly eye-fuck him; he’s cute . . . for an older man. a pair of black sweatpants hang dangerously low on his hips, his broad, strong frame slicked with sweat. and the tattoos? chef’s fucking kiss. his striking dirty blonde hair is slicked back with sweat, and god you’re a slut for a man with pretty eyes. whoever’s son this was, they had created a damn masterpiece.

nanami swallows thickly, eyes trailing your body. you’re wearing a tied crop top, juicy brown breasts spilling from the thin material. he’s pretty fucking sure you aren’t wearing a bra, seeing as he can see your hard nipples pressing against your shirt. you’re wearing a white, almost too small bikini bottom, pussy lips straining against the material. he didn’t have a foot fetish but, he wouldn’t mind sucking on your manicured toes . . . or letting them stroke his dick. he clears his throat, grasping your hand. it’s warm and soft in his larger, calloused one.

“kento nanami, but you can just call me nanami, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“strong grip mister kento,” you grin, lingering with your hand is his for a bit longer before you pull away. god . . . even your voice is so perfect, sweet and sultry. do you have any flaws?

“please, just call me nanami. you stay next door, right?” he asks, trying to restrain himself from pouncing on you like a wild animal. he already knows the answer, but he doesn’t want to let on that he’s been spying. the lawn mower still hums behind him, and he grips the handle tightly to keep himself grounded.

“yeah! haha, i do. gosh, i’m embarrassed we’ve been neighbors for half a year and i’m just now formally meeting you.” your neck grows hot; had you known this sexy ass man stayed here you would’ve been pulling the weeds from your garden more often.

he shakes his head, had it really been six months? it didn’t even feel that long. “nonsense, it’s my fault i should’ve welcomed you to the neighborhood,” he tucks his hands in his pockets looking down at you. the height difference is stark between you two, perfect height for your lips to wrap around his cock.

“you’re in uni, right?”

you nod, “that obvious?" you laugh, swiping a piece of rebellious hair behind your ear. "just don’t see a lot of young faces around," he adds. once again, he knows the answer but wants to ask to clear himself of suspicion. you nod, agreeing. "makes sense. this town is so damn boring."

"so, nanami," you raise your perfectly waxed brows playfully. "what do you do?”

"i’m an, uh, police officer." he tries to sound casual, but you can sense a bit of hesitation. that’s hot . . . your mind trails to him fucking you while your hands are cuffed behind your back. your stomach clenches and you find yourself crossing your legs.

“nice, that’s pretty cool,” you giggle,“oh yeah! totally forgot why i came over here. my friends and i are raising money, we’re washing cars around the neighborhood. would you be interested?” he tries to ignore his screaming cock as you look up through those wispy lashes and latch your lips around the sucker again.

he’d zoned out halfway through you talking, something about raising money and his car. fuck, he wished that lollipop was him. you’re so pretty, with your lips glistening and eyes sparkling, he’s not even sure what he’s agreed to as he nods his head in a trance. he’s surprised when you squeal and pull him into a hug, your juicy boobs pressing against his chest, the warmth of your body igniting a fire inside him.

“thank you!” you pull away after a few seconds, and he hopes you hadn’t felt his dick throbbing against you.

“uh, no problem. so, what’s the money for?” he asks, trying to keep his voice steady.

you lean in close, the scent of your strawberry-scented hair making his mouth water and his heart race. “school project, but between me and you, alcohol. having a party tonight, you should come mister officer.” a smile tugs on his lips, he’ll be sure to give you an extra tip . . . he wants to place a fifty right between your pretty tits, imagining how they’d feel against his skin.

“i see, i would but i’ve got work in the morning.do i need to move my car?” he questions, glancing at his truck parked underneath a tree. he notices the summer pollen and leaves stuck to his windshield, realizing it wasn’t a good look. maybe a wash would let him gawk at you more.

he swears he could bust a nut right there as you drag the soapy rag across his car, leaning over to wet the bottom of his truck. your friends are dressed skimpier than you, one girl wearing what looks like literal fucking floss. yet, his eyes stay on you. the way you’re bending down, showing off your perfect stretch-marked ass has him cutting his grass so slow he might as well have been doing it with a pair of scissors.

you’re giggling as your friends spray you with water, covering your face and running around his truck. your titties are fully visible now and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from groaning.

“ugh, i’m so wet.” he hears you whine. not as wet as you’ll be when he’s done with you. he can’t cut his grass forever, and he’s a bit sad when you begin finishing up cleaning his truck. he’s definitely gonna need to get rid of this erection; it’s unbearable.

it’s not long before you’re skipping over to him, that child-like smile on your face at having made his car look brand new. “so,” you stand beside him shoulder to shoulder, “watcha think?” you admire the car, you did pretty damn good if you had to say.

nanami nods, “looks amazing, thank you. let me get my wallet from inside.” he watches you nod before he heads inside to grab some cash. he snatches it up from the stand by the door and quickly goes back outside. you watch as he fishes out a fifty, your eyes widen. this man must be crazy, you were only charging five and here he is handing you a fifty.

“are you sure?” you question, hesitantly grabbing the crisp bill from him. mmm. . . you love a man who doesn’t mind splurging on you, maybe you’ll make him your sugar daddy.

“of course.”

you smile brightly, “wow, thanks. that’s awfully generous.” your eyes sparkle with excitement, and he can’t help but smile at your joy.

“well, you did an amazing job on my truck. i hardly even recognize it. i should be the one thanking you, get yourself a bottle. on me.” he says, his voice warm and genuine, making your heart flutter a little.

“coolest cop i know, guess i’ll see you around?” you question, folding the bill before tucking it between your breasts. he nods, and you give a small smile before walking away. his eyes are glued to your juicy ass, the way your body moves so effortlessly has him drooling. he stares all the way until you walk back into your home. damn, who knew a woman could have this effect on him?

he stood there for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. he tried to get you out of his head but every time he closed his eyes images of you flashed though his head.

he needed a cold shower.

when you said party he didn’t know you meant your own fucking personal project x. a little party was no big deal. he had been to his fair share of college parties back in the day. but this? this was something else entirely. as the night wore on, more and more cars lined the street, and the volume of the music seemed to increase exponentially. the bass thumped through the walls, making his bed vibrate. he could hear the unmistakable sounds of people yelling, laughing, and . . . was that someone singing karaoke?

he should’ve known it’d be trouble the moment he saw you and a group of friends carrying large paper bags into the house later in the evening. he had assumed those bags were filled with alcohol and, judging by the raucous laughter and clinking bottles, he was right.

he groaned loudly, pulling his pillow over his face in a futile attempt to muffle the noise. it was no use. the sounds of cheering, shouting, and what he could only describe as chaos filled the night air. he couldn't help but think about how inconsiderate these people were, how inconsiderate you were.

he couldn't take it anymore.the pounding bass, the shouting, the laughter—it was all too much. throwing the covers off, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. as he slipped on his bedroom slippers and grabbed his jacket, he muttered to himself, "this is ridiculous it’s three fucking am.”

stepping outside, he was greeted by a scene straight out of a movie.the street was littered with red solo cups, and groups of drunken college kids staggered around, shouting and laughing. as he made his way down the block, he pushed through clusters of people. "excuse me," he muttered, though he doubted anyone could hear him over the noise.

"oo,who's dad?" one of the girls in a group giggled as he passed by. another chimed in, "he’s kinda hot for a dad." nanami rolled his eyes and kept moving, ignoring their comments. he wasn't here to make friends; he was here to get some peace and quiet.

finally, he reached the house. the music was deafening up close, and he could feel the vibrations under his feet. he took a deep breath, and raised his fist and knocked on the door. the door, already weakened by the night's festivities, splintered slightly under the weight of his knock.

as the door swings open, he's met with your face. you're obviously tipsy, the way you're hanging onto the door with a lazy smile.

“oh my god! nanami, i’m so glad you could make it.” you giggle, throwing your arms around his neck.he stiffens, arms instinctively wrapping around your frame. he admits it feels nice, and your hair smells so damn good and so do you. he shakes his head, he’s here to stand on business.

"i don't mean to be a dick. especially after you washed my car but this ridiculous," he stresses, running his hands over his face. you barely hear anything he says over the roar of the music, he showed up to your party and that’s all that really matters to you. he’s so sexy, you want to kiss him. he protest as you retract from him and grab his hand pulling him inside the house, shutting the door behind you.

“i—“ he starts, you cut him off.

"shh,i wanna show you something," you whisper, leading him upstairs. he follows, albeit hesitantly, feeling the warmth of your hand seeping into his. every step feels like it's taking him deeper into a dream he can't wake up from. the noise from the party fades into the background as you ascend, replaced by the sound of your soft giggles and his own racing heartbeat.

once at the top of the stairs, you lead him down a dimly lit hallway and into your room. the door clicks shut behind you.you turn to face him, still holding his hand, and he can see the playful glint in your eyes. his eyes drop to the corset you’re wearing, titties threatening to spill out. fuck, what’s with you and never wearing a full outfit.

"ʚ♡ɞ , what are we doing here?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.he’s trying to keep his composure, but the proximity, and the way your eyes are locked onto his, it's all too much. he pinches himself to make sure he’s not dreaming.

you don't answer immediately. instead , you step closer, your free hand reaching up to trace the line of his jaw. he tenses, your touch sends a shiver down his spine, and he finds himself leaning into it despite his better judgment. "i just wanted to be alone with you," you murmur, your breath warm against his skin.

before he can respond, you close the distance between you, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that’s both gentle and insistent. his mind races, a thousand thoughts colliding at once, but all he can focus on is the way you feel against him. the taste of you, the softness of your lips, the way your body molds to his—it’s intoxicating.

he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens. all the stress, the annoyance, it melts away, replaced by a warmth that spreads through his entire being.

“m’fuck me, officer, i’ve been a bad girl.” you moan softly against his lips, your core throbbing at his touch. his hands roam your body, sending shivers down your spine. the heat between you intensifies.

his hands hold you closely as he walks you backwards towards your bed, pushing you on it softly,electing a small gasp from your lips.

“you’re such a fuckin’ tease, y’know that?” he husks, leaning over you. “wearing tight ass shit all the time, drives me fuckin’ crazy seeing your body bust out of your clothes.” his fingers tug up your mini leather skirt, groaning as he sees your bare pussy. “tsk, tsk, tsk. not even wearing any underwear, you’re naughty. you need to be fucked.” you whine at his dirty words, legs spread as he soaks in the sight of you. his eyes darken with desire, and he licks his lips, savoring the moment.

“oh my god,” you whimper, feeling his tongue press firmly against your aching clit. the sensation makes you want to cry out as he moves slowly, savoring every drop of your essence.

your soft moans are like a symphony to his ears, each sound making his cock twitch with need. “s-so good,” you gasp, shuddering as his tongue flicks over your bud. his large grips your thighs and holds your legs open, kneading your soft brown skin between his hands.

“shaking already? i’ve barely touched you, doll.” he murmurs into your pussy, the taste driving him wild. he can't help but moan as he laps up your wetness.the sensation of his tongue exploring you sends shivers down your spine, making your body tremble even more.

"nanamiii!" you drawl his name out blissfully as he nips at your throbbing bud, sending waves of pleasure through your body. each gentle nip and flick of his tongue feels like a spark, igniting your senses and making your toes curl in delight. his hands firmly grip your hips, anchoring you in place as he continues his attentive ministrations, drawing you closer to the edge with every touch.

“you sound so sexy when you say my name,” he grunts and slides a finger inside you, the sensation adding a new layer of intensity to your pleasure. his tongue continues its dedicated work on your sensitive bud, while his finger moves with an expert rhythm, exploring and finding the spots that make you gasp.

“you’re so tight, gotta stretch you.” nanami hums,adding second finger, the fullness and the rhythmic pressure makes your back arch off the bed.his name becomes a chant on your lips, each syllable a testament to the ecstasy he's orchestrating within you.

“f-fingers a-a-re sooo long,” you drool out, your pussy making the most dehumanizing noises as he presses into you.

“mhm, gonna make you cum with em’ sweetheart.” his fingers curl inside you, brushing against your cervix. the combination of his tongue and fingers working in concert sends shockwaves of pleasure through your entire being. desperately, you grip the sheets tightly, your body responding to every thrust and flick with increasing intensity.

the sensation builds, a crescendo of bliss that has you teetering on the brink of release. the world narrows down to the feeling of his touch, the sound of your own ragged breaths, and the overwhelming pleasure that threatens to consume you entirely.

you’re a mess on nanami’s hands, he watches as his beefy digits glisten with your juice each time he pumps fingers into you.

“so f’kin wet,” he listens in admiration at the shlick shlick shlick sounds,”listen to how your pussy is talking to me.” he grins.

he didn’t even know it was possible for a pussy to be this wet . . . he can only imagine how you’ll feel wrapped around his cock.

“tell me what you want princess,” your stomach clenches at his raspy voice,you whimper, trying to find your voice.

“i wanna c-cum!” you sob, feeling his fingers pick up their speed, your body sliding forward from the force of his thrust.

“mm’ i know, you look so pretty all spread out for me.” he rasps, voice laced with lust. you want to scream as he wraps his lips firmly back against your clit, fingers now drilling against your cervix with precision.

nanami presses his free palm against the lower half of your stomach as you began moving, the pleasure is almost too unbearable and you wanna squirm and pull away. but he’s gripping you so tightly you can’t, you can only take the immense pleasure he’s giving you.

“unt unt, stay still.” nanami swirls his tongue around you. your clit seems to have doubled in size, the fat bud visibly throbbing under his tongue. he finds it mesmerizing as he nips at it, fingers pressing deeper into your thighs as they shake.

“o-oh, m so s-sensitive. p-please go easy on her,” you hiccup with closed eyes. you’re a sweaty mess, nanami is eating your pussy like a starved man, leaving no drops of juices from you. you wanna cum on his face so bad . . . if he keeps fucking you so deeply you’ll squirt, you moan at that thought.

“sorry beautiful, easy isn’t in my vocabulary.”

you feel that tight familiar feeling in your stomach as you dig your nails into his messy blonde hair,pulling the silky strands between your fingers. he snuffles through his nose at the sensation, cock pressing uncomfortably against his checkered pajama pants.

your brain seems to short circuit for a minute as your orgasm rushes over you, you’re so damn tender and yet nanami still sucks on your pussy. you’re crying tears as he over-stimulates you, back arching as your eyes roll into the back of your head.

blobs of colors dot your vision as nanami continues his attack on your vulnerable pussy. you have that sensation in your stomach, and he knows what’s coming as you tighten around his fingers. he groans at the sensation, pulling his fingers out of you and quickly spazzing his fingers against your clit.

“fuckkkk yesss,” nanami watches in awe as your pussy gushes clear liquid, coating his shirt and soaking him. he doesn’t care, he wants you to keep squirting. one hand is still pressed against your abdomen, other back inside your throbbing walls.

“finna’ squirt again!” you mewl in pleasure as he once again pulls his fingers out and goes berserk on your clit, moaning softly as you drench the bed. tears cascade down your cheeks as he finally lets up on your poor pussy, this man knows how to spoil a girl.

nanami is a little confused as you slide off the bed, legs shaking from your recent orgasm. you slide open your closet and pull out a pink book bag with an array of hello kitty patches sewn on. he watches as you pull out a bunch of your toys - a bright pink anal plug, cuffs, and a vibrator. his cock twitches in his pants.

"i think i just fell in love with you," he huffs,you giggle as he pulls you into his embrace, fingers desperately stripping you of your skimpy clothing. your head lulls to the side as he presses wet kisses on your neck, shivering as his teeth graze your skin. his touch is both tender and urgent, sending waves of excitement through you.

he admires your naked body, his eyes lingering on every curve and contour. he loves the way your stomach is pudgy, a soft and inviting cushion that he can't resist. the way your hips are wide, creating a beautiful silhouette that captivates him. he loves the way your love handles are soft in his hands.every inch of you is a testament to natural beauty, and he can't help but feel a deep sense of appreciation and affection.

“you’re a masterpiece,” he murmurs against your lips. a smile breaks across your face, he’s so sweet.you slowly undress him, fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt one by one. his stomach burns with anticipation as you plant slow, lingering kisses along his body, each touch igniting a fire within him. you take your time, savoring the moment, as you peel away his clothes, revealing more of his skin to your tender caresses. every kiss, every gentle touch, sends shivers down his spine, heightening his senses and drawing him deeper into the intoxicating experience.

he watches intently as you sit him onto the bed, grabbing something your vanity. baby oil? god, you’re such a freak. he loves it. “scoot back,” you order, he listens, eyes never leaving yours as you climb onto the bed. you smile, coating your feet in baby oil.he looks so sexy man spread out for you like this . . . you’re gonna make him feel good. beautiful men like him deserve it.

you giggle as his head lulls back as you glide him in between your feet. his thighs tremble as you stroke him with a smile, the soft sound of your skin against his filling the room. his eyes are snapped shut, his face contorting with pleasure.

“do you like this, nanami?” you ask softly, your voice dripping with seduction.

“yes,” he groans, his voice strained. “it feels g-good.”

you increase the pressure, moving your feet with more intensity. “i want to see you lose control,” you whisper, watching his reaction closely.

your pussy grows wet at his breathing becoming more ragged. “don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

you maintain the rhythm, your movements precise and deliberate. “i want to see you come undone,” you say, your own excitement building as you watch him shudder with pleasure.

he looks so damn fine, head lulled back, that blonde hair you desperately want to run your fingers through stringy across his face. his abs glisten with sweat, and you want to run your tongue along the sculpted surface.

“look at me,” you coo.his eyes flutter open and find your big brown doe ones, you can feel him twitch at the eye contact. fuck . . . you’re so damn hot, and to think he thought you were innocent at first. there isn’t an innocent bone in your body as you sit there and stroke his throbbing cock with your feet.

you’ve got him wrapped around your pretty little finger and you know it.

nanami feels an overwhelming mix of sensations as you continue to stroke him with your oiled-up feet. his body is on fire, every nerve ending tingling with pleasure. the soft, slick feel of your skin against his is almost too much to bear, and he can barely keep himself from losing control.

his thighs tremble uncontrollably, a clear sign of how close he is to the edge. the tension in his muscles is almost painful, and he can feel his heart pounding in his chest. each stroke sends a wave of pleasure coursing through him, making it harder and harder to hold back.

as he listens to your soft, encouraging words, a sense of desperation builds within him. he wants nothing more than to let go, to give in to the pleasure and let it consume him. but he also wants to savor the moment, to stretch out the feeling for as long as possible.

when he finally admits that he can’t hold on much longer, it’s a relief. your response, urging him to let go, is exactly what he needs to hear. the pace of your movements increases, and he feels himself teetering on the brink.

the moment of release is like an explosion. his body tenses, every muscle contracting as he finally gives in. the pleasure is intense, almost overwhelming, and he can feel it radiating out from his core, spreading through his entire body.

“shit!” he whines, roping cum across your feet as you continue stroking him, milking his needy cock dry. his chest heaves as he attempts to catch his breath, “you’re messy.” you grin, sliding off the bed to fetch a towel.

“where the hell did you learn that?” nanami suddenly finds his voice.you shrug you shoulders, cleaning your feet. “i’ll never tell,”

you're caught off guard when nanami grabs you and cuffs your hands behind your back. "am i under arrest?" you snicker, but your laugh is immediately replaced by a wince as he yanks your head back by your hair. his breath is hot against your ear as he whispers, "indeed. anything you say can and will be used against you in bed," he smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

he pushes you onto the bed stomach first, and you grunt as you struggle to balance with your hands restrained. “ughhhmm,” you bury your face into the sheets, a mix of pain and pleasure coursing through you as you feel the butt plug prod against your asshole. nanami grins in delight, watching as you whine, your asshole greedily eating up the plug, the sensation making you shiver with a twisted sense of satisfaction.

the faint humming of the vibrator fills your ears, and you expect him to put it against your clit, but he doesn’t. "what are you doing?" you gasp, straining against the cuffs. he smirks, not answering, and you feel him push the tiny vibrator inside your cunt.

"oh god," you moan, as his dick follows, pressing the vibrator deeper into you. "feel that?" he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. you cry out, the vibrations stirring your insides, and the stretch of him making your head feel light and dizzy with a mix of overwhelming pleasure.

"you're mine," he whispers, his breath hot against your neck.

nanami has to restrain himself in your tight cunt, the soft buzzing against his throbbing tip makes him groan. you’re so damn wet and compact around him . . . he could’ve thought you were a virgin.

"i-ugh’fuck!” you manage to gasp, feeling every inch of him and the vibrator inside you. nanami's hands grip your hips tightly, his movements slow and deliberate, trying to savor every moment.

"so tight," he admits, his voice rough with desire. the combination of the buzzing and his steady thrusts sends waves of pleasure through you, making your body tremble.

"please," you beg, not even sure what you're asking for, just needing more of him. he groans, his control slipping as he starts to move faster, driven by the overwhelming sensation and the sound of your desperate pleas.

each thrust driving the vibrator deeper, sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body. "been waitin’ for this," he growls, his voice raw with need.

"nanami," you moan, your voice trembling with pleasure. his dick is so damn thick . . . you’re going crazy, you want to scream. the way his dick gets lost in your big ass has him in a trance; he could stay like this forever.

“fuckkkk,” nanami grunts, one hand holding the cuffs that secure your hands, the other placed on his hip as he rolls his hips into you. each thrust sends shivers down your spine, making you arch your back in response. you can't help but think about how perfectly he fills you, stretching you in ways that drive you wild.

his grip tightens on the cuffs, and you feel the cool metal biting into your wrists, a stark contrast to the heat building between your bodies.

"i can't get enough of you," he mutters, his voice rough with desire. you can hear the raw need in his tone, matching the desperate ache inside you. his movements become more deliberate, each jolt of his hips pushing you closer to the edge, making you lose yourself in the overwhelming sensation of him.

the sick squelching of your pussy around him is vile, but he fucking loves it. your desperate pussy sucks at filthy cock each time he pulls out of you, you’re such a slut. . . mm, he wants to fill you to the brim.

you flinch as nanami’s hand cracks over your skin, earning a mewl from you. “you deserve to be spanked, for throwing this loud ass party, for wearing these skimpy ass clothes,” he growls, his voice low and commanding.

his hand repeatedly cracks across your stinging skin, each hit harder than the last. the sharp sound of each smack echoes in the room, mingling with your soft cries.

“i’m s-sorry n-nanami,” you whimper, trembling as you try to hold back the tears. his hand doesn’t relent, and the sting intensifies with every strike. “p-pllease, i didn’t mean to—”

“no excuses,” he interrupts, his tone brooking no argument. “you need to learn your lesson.” tears brim your eyes, threatening to spill over as you bite your lip to keep from screaming. you can feel the heat radiating from your skin, each slap a reminder of his dominance and your submission. the mix of pain and pleasure sends shivers down your spine, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.

he’s fucking you so fast now, girthy cock massaging your walls deliciously. his fingers are tangled in your hair, pulling your head back as he moves within you so deeply. you’re a sweating, creaming mess, eyes half lidded as he slides into you quickly. you’d just gotten your hair done, but nanami doesn’t care. he’s too focused on pounding into your sensitive cunt. “ i wanna cum on your d-dick,” you plead, a trail of drool adorning your mouth as he fucks up your senses.

you’re so close. .. but, it’s too soon. you ignore the way your stomach is turning. you hate that you’re coming undone so fast, but you can’t help it. this man is skilled. . . ugh, you’re so dizzy for his fat cock.

“mm, hold it. we have to finish together baby.”

“o-omm’ o-okay,” his movements become more urgent, his moans are so pretty. nanami’s head lulls back as you start meeting his thrust, you’ll be the death of him. his stomach is in knots, he’s so damn close. even you can tell the way his cock is twitching against your walls, and the way you’re grinding your hips on him? spectacular.

"come for me," he commands, his voice both a plea and an order. the intensity of his thrusts and the relentless buzzing push you over the edge, and you cry out, your body convulsing with pleasure. nanami groans as you squeeze him, he rolls his hips into you once more before he retracts. mouth agape as curses spill from it, he’s stroking his veiny cock, shooting hot spurts of sticky cum on your ass.

the vibrator still buzzes inside of you, you squirm, pushing it out of your contracting pussy. nanami swears he could nut again as it slips out, coated in your creamy substance. you shudder as you feels his lips on your back,cuffs falling from your wrist as he undoes them. they’re extremely raw and you know you’ll be icing them later,you sink into the bed, you’re so tired.

"please, stay with me until i fall asleep," you whisper,voice barely audible in the quiet room.

he hesitates for a moment, glancing at the clock. he knows he has work in a few hours, but the look in your eyes makes it impossible to say no. "of course," he replies softly, pulling the covers over your body and slipping into the bed beside you.

as you curl up into his side, he feels a warmth spread through him. his hand reaches down to stroke your face gently, his fingers tracing the delicate lines of your features. "you're so beautiful," he murmurs, almost to himself.

a smile pulls against your lips,tired eyes already beginning to close. "thank you, you make me feel special.” you murmur, your voice drowsy.he can't help but smile at your words. he watches as you drift off to sleep, your breathing becoming slow and steady. he knows he should be thinking about the long day ahead, but all he can focus on is the feeling of you in his arms.

as he lies there, holding you close, he can't help but wonder if this is the start of something new. something wonderful. and for the first time in a long while, he feels a sense of hope.

as always likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! i love interacting:) byeeeee.

[hoshifighting]

lee chan as your sugar baby!

— WARNINGS: sugar mommy x sugar baby relationship, smut, cock riding, overstimulation, oral (m. receiving). — (Seventeen as Sugar Baby's Series)

chan's fingers hovered over the keyboard, the couch under him squeaking as his friends shifted closer, eyes glued to his screen. the profile had been a joke, a dare born out of a boredom and too many beers. his bio was something ridiculous, like “lee chan, 25. likes dancing, long walks to the fridge, and avoiding adult responsibilities.” he doesn’t think much of it, just another one of those dumb things you do with friends that you forget about the next morning.

so when that notification popped up, he’d been fully ready to shrug it off.

“oh shit, someone actually bit,” seungkwan snorted, elbowing him in the ribs.

“no way,” vernon leaned in closer, practically draping himself over chan’s shoulder. “what, is it a granny looking for a toyboy?”

chan was already smirking, about to type back something half-assed, but then he clicked on the profile.

silence.

“bro…” was all soonyoung managed, voice dropping to something almost reverent.

you stared back at him from the screen, the photo set in dubai. expensive-ass bikini that screamed designer without being obnoxious about it, a pool so clear it could’ve been a goddamn mirror. every photo after that, some crazy tourist spot, one after the other. greece, italy, fucking bali. you were clearly someone who had their shit together, someone who probably had the same watch collection as his entire paycheck for the last year.

chan’s still staring at the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard. he’s never seen anything like this before. you look like money, smell like money, like that fancy, understated kind of wealth that doesn’t need to brag.

“are you gonna reply or just keep ogling?” seungkwan’s voice snapped him out of it.

he glanced at the message again. just a simple “hi” but now another one had popped up.

“she’s typing again,” someone whispers, and chan snaps out of it, eyes darting back to the chat window.

“you’re real cute in that profile pic,” it read, followed by a winking emoji.

“well, fuck me,” chan muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. “what the hell do i even say to that?”

“anything but something stupid,” vernon quipped, nudging him.

chan bites his lip, glancing at his friends who are all staring at him like this is the most important conversation of his life. and maybe it kinda is.

his fingers hovered again. you were out of his league in every way that mattered, but here you were, talking to him. and what was he? just some dude who loved dance and cheap beer. but fuck it. he wasn’t about to let that stop him.

“hii! you know, you look even better than all those tourist spots. might have to see for myself sometime...”

“oh my god, dude,” vernon whispered, trying not to laugh too loudly.

“he’s going in!” seungkwan half-yelled, covering his mouth in shock.

chan hit send and immediately regretted it, cheeks burning. “what? too much?”

“nah, man, that’s bold,” soonyoung said, barely containing his grin. “you might’ve just scored.”

seconds felt like hours, everyone staring at the screen, waiting. then, the notification pinged.

“lol, that’s cute,” you replied. “where you living rn?”

chan’s hands shook as he typed back. “seoul. just a humble dancer here. what about you? where you at?”

“imma bet she’s like, in some penthouse in new york or something,” soonyoung guessed.

chan rolled his eyes but waited, heart in his throat, until your next message popped up.

“france atm. here for work.”

“what the fuck?” chan whispered, blinking. “she’s in france? who just casually drops they’re in france?”

“she’s high-class, bro,” vernon chuckled, “better up your game.”

chan swallowed, typing back, “damn, france, huh? that’s far. what kind of work are you into?”

“bet she’s got some crazy job,” soonyoung mused, leaning in closer.

your reply came quicker this time. “i’m a director at a company. lots of traveling, lots of meetings, but it’s worth it.”

“right?” chan exhaled, trying to play it cool. “guess i better brush up on my french. so, when are you back in seoul?”

“soon,” you replied. “might need a tour guide when i get there. you up for the job?”

chan felt his heart skip a beat. “hell yeah, i’m up for it. i’ll make sure you see all the best spots.”

“even better if one of those spots is your place,” you teased.

his friends erupted into laughter, nearly falling off the couch as chan’s face turned beet red. “fuck… she’s smooth,” he mumbled, grinning despite himself.

“she’s gonna eat you alive, and you’re gonna love it,” vernon teased, leaning back into the couch, grinning ear to ear.

days passed, and his friends kept throwing out jokes, but none of them actually thought he’d go through with meeting you. it was supposed to be a dare, a laugh, nothing serious. but there chan was, pulling on the finest clothes he owned, trying to look like he belonged next to someone like you. black slacks, a crisp white shirt, the kind of fit that made him feel like maybe he could pass for someone with a little more class, some nice pants, and his best pair of shoes. it wasn’t designer, but it was the best he could do.

he paced in front of his apartment building, checking his phone every two seconds. his palms were already sweating, and his heart raced in his chest like it was trying to break free.

then, he saw it—a sleek black porsche 911 pulling up to the curb, the engine purring like a panther. “no fucking way,” he whispered to himself as the door opened and you stepped out, removing your sunglasses with a casual flick of your wrist. your gaze locking onto his. you were the picture of luxury, the kind of woman who had her shit together and didn’t let anyone forget it.

chan swallowed hard, his confidence from your messages feeling a little shaky now that you were right in front of him. “uh, hey,” he managed, running a hand through his hair.

you smiled, a slow, knowing curve of your lips as you approached him. “nice to finally meet you, chan,” you said, your voice smooth, like you were used to making people feel a little off-kilter.

“y-yeah, you too,” he stammered, trying to hold it together. “you look... wow.”

“thanks,” you replied, glancing at his outfit. “you clean up pretty well yourself.”

he chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “figured i should try to look the part.”

you gave him an appraising look before tilting your head towards the car. “so, you know how to drive?”

he blinked, caught off guard. “uh, yeah, of course.”

“good,” you said, tossing the keys his way. he barely caught them, fumbling a bit as he did. “why don’t you take us for a spin, then?”

“you want me to drive that?” chan asked, glancing back at the porsche, his nerves doubling.

you nodded, a glint in your eye. “you got it, pretty boy. show me what you can do.”

chan’s heart thudded in his chest as he walked over to the car, his hands still a little shaky as he slid into the driver’s seat. the leather was soft under his fingers, the kind of luxury he wasn’t used to, but damn if he didn’t feel like a king behind that wheel.

he started the engine, the car rumbling to life, and glanced over at you. you were watching him, your expression amused but with a hint of something else, something that made him feel like this was more than just a ride.

“so, where to first?” he asked, gripping the wheel a little tighter.

“how about we start with wherever you usually hang out?” you suggested, settling into the seat, your gaze flicking to him. “i want to see the city through your eyes.”

chan nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “okay, i can do that.”

chan had never felt so out of his element, yet so at ease. he’d taken you through his world, showing you his favorite spots around the city—the dance studio where he spent countless hours perfecting his moves, a little-known art exhibition that he’d insisted on paying for, despite your amused protests. now, the two of you strolled through a quiet park, the late afternoon sun casting a warm, golden glow over everything.

as you walked, chan led you to a secluded spot where an old statue stood, slightly weathered but still striking. it was a simple piece, a couple entwined in an embrace, their lips inches apart, forever captured in a moment of almost-kissing.

“so, this statue,” chan started, his voice a little softer now. “there’s this legend that if you kiss someone here, you’re supposed to stay together forever. something about how the artist sculpted it after he lost his wife. he wanted to capture their last moment together, just before they kissed, so they could be like that forever.”

you stopped, staring at the statue, then glanced at him with a knowing smile. “and here i thought you were just a dancer. didn’t know you were into old romantic tales, too.”

he shrugged, a bit bashful. “yeah, well, this place is special. it’s got a vibe, you know?”

“i know,” you replied, stepping closer to the statue, your hand brushing over its surface. “i’ve actually been here before. in fact, i’ve been to every place you showed me today.”

chan’s eyes widened in surprise, a mix of shock and curiosity flooding his expression. “wait, you did? why didn’t you say anything?”

you turned to face him, your gaze locking onto his. “i just wanted to spend time with you. i wanted to see how you experience these places, what they mean to you.”

“that’s… actually pretty sweet.”

you nodded, stepping closer until you were right in front of him, your body almost brushing against his. “you think so?”

for a moment, neither of you spoke, the world around you fading into the background. chan could feel the words hanging between you like a challenge and an invitation all at once.

“well,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper, “there’s still one thing we haven’t done yet.”

“what’s that?” you asked, your voice equally soft, a teasing edge to it.

chan didn’t answer with words. instead, he slowly closed the distance between you, his hands gently resting on your hips. you could feel the tension in his muscles, the way he was holding back, not wanting to rush, but there was no mistaking the want in his eyes.

and then he kissed you.

it started slow, like he was savoring the first taste. his lips were soft against yours, but there was a firmness in the way he held you. the kiss deepened, his hands sliding up your sides, feeling the smooth, expensive fabric of your dress under his fingertips. it was like touching pure luxury, and it made his heart race even faster.

you responded in kind, your hands sliding over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles beneath his shirt. he was strong, solid, and the contrast between his ruggedness and your refinement sent a thrill through you. you pressed closer, feeling the heat of his body, the way his breath mingled with yours.

he pulled you even closer, his hands now fully around your waist, one sliding up your back as if trying to memorize every inch of you. there was nothing between you and the world but this kiss, this moment, where time seemed to stretch and bend around the two of you.

the kiss was everything—soft and sweet, yet desperate and consuming, like neither of you wanted it to end. his scent surrounded you, a combination of something clean and musky, grounding you even as the kiss made you feel like you were floating.

you pulled back slightly, your lips lingering close to his. you could still feel the ghost of his kiss on your mouth.

chan’s apartment is exactly what you imagined—small, cozy, clean, and it smells like fresh laundry mixed with something musky that’s all him. it’s simple, a little too bare maybe, but there’s something comforting about it. like it’s a place where he can just be himself.

“it’s not much,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck as he leads you inside. “definitely not what you’re used to. not fancy or anything, but… it’s home.”

you smile at him, stepping further into the living room. “i like it,” you say, and you mean it. it’s a place that feels real, lived-in, and right now, it’s exactly where you want to be.

chan watches you carefully, like he’s trying to gauge your reaction, but when he sees the smile on your face, some of that tension leaves his shoulders. he looks at you, a little nervous, but you can see the desire underneath, the way he’s holding himself back.

“so,” you say, stepping closer to him, letting your body brush against his. he’s solid, all hard muscle and pent-up energy, and you can feel the heat radiating off him. “you gonna give me the full tour?”

his breath hitches when you press against him, your lips so close to his that he can practically taste you already. “uh, yeah,” he says, his voice low and a little rough. “i mean, it’s not a big place or anything, but…”

you don’t let him finish. instead, you lick his lips with the tip of your tongue, just a quick, teasing flick that has him groaning almost immediately. his hands twitch at his sides, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to touch you yet.

“chan,” you murmur, your lips ghosting over his. “why don’t you show me the whole place?”

his eyes darken, his hands finally coming up to grip your waist, pulling you flush against him. “you mean… like, now?”

“now,” you confirm, giving him a slow, sultry smile. “and maybe we can start with the bedroom.”

chan doesn’t need to be told twice. he practically drags you down the short hallway, your laughter echoing off the walls as he fumbles with the door. the second you’re inside, his hands are on you, pulling you close, kissing you like he’s been waiting forever to do it.

you push him back toward the bed, feeling the mattress hit the back of your legs as you fall onto it together. chan’s kisses are hungry, almost desperate, and you can feel him trembling slightly, the anticipation building between you.

“fuck, you’re so hot,” he mutters against your lips, his hands sliding under your shirt, feeling the soft skin beneath.

you smirk, running your hands down his chest, feeling the hard lines of his muscles. “you’re not so bad yourself,” you tease, slipping your hand lower, brushing over the bulge in his jeans.

chan’s breath catches in his throat, his hips bucking up into your touch. “shit,” he groans, his head falling back as you palm him through the fabric.

you undo his jeans, sliding them down just enough to free his cock, and you hear the sharp intake of breath he takes as the cool air hits him. he’s already rock hard, thick and pulsing in your hand, and when you lean down to take him into your mouth, the sound he makes is nothing short of pathetic.

“fuck, oh fuck,” he moans, his hands gripping the sheets so tight his knuckles turn white. “shit, your mouth… feels so good.”

you hum around him, swirling your tongue over the tip, tasting the salty bead of precum there. chan’s hips jerk involuntarily, and you can feel how desperate he is, how much he’s holding back. you start moving your mouth up and down his length, taking him deeper each time, and the way he’s losing his mind over it is almost enough to make you lose control.

“i… i can’t—” chan gasps, his voice shaking as he tries to hold on. “i’m gonna… fuck, i’m gonna cum.”

you don’t stop, sucking harder, taking him all the way to the back of your throat. chan’s moans are getting louder, more broken, and you can feel his cock throbbing, his whole body tensing up as he gets closer and closer.

“fuck, i’m cumming, i’m—” he chokes out, his hips bucking up as he spills into your mouth. his whole body shakes, his moans turning into desperate, breathless gasps as he rides out the high, his fingers digging into the sheets like he’s afraid he’ll float away.

you don’t let up, even as he starts to soften in your mouth, your tongue teasing him, milking every last drop out of him. chan’s breath comes in ragged pants, his body twitching uncontrollably as you keep going.

“s-stop,” he pleads, his voice hoarse, almost broken. “too much… can’t…”

you pull back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you crawl up his body. “too much?” you ask, your voice full of teasing. “we’re just getting started.”

chan barely has time to process that before you’re straddling him, your body pressing down onto his still sensitive cock. he gasps, his hands flying to your hips, but he’s too overwhelmed to do anything more than hold on as you start moving.

“fuck, fuck, i can’t,” he whimpers, his head falling back against the pillows, his eyes screwed shut. “i can’t, it’s too much.”

“you can take it,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss him, your hands sliding up his chest. “just relax, let me take care of you.”

chan groans, his hips bucking up into you even though every nerve in his body is screaming at him to stop. the overstimulation is driving him insane, every touch of your body, every movement making him tremble, his hands gripping the pillow like it’s his lifeline. he’s never felt anything like this before, never thought he could feel this good and this overwhelmed at the same time.

you can feel him trembling beneath you, his whole body tense with the effort of holding on. it’s almost too much for him, but you don’t stop, not yet. you want to push him just a little further, want to see how far you can take him.

chan brought out something in you that you hadn’t felt in years. it wasn’t just the excitement of being with someone young and full of life—it was how he made you feel, like every moment with him was a break from the weight of the world. he had this way of dragging you out of your high-stress life and dropping you into something simple, fun, and completely unpretentious.

like that time he took you to the amusement park. you hadn’t been to one in ages, but there you were, screaming your lungs out on roller coasters, laughing so hard you thought you’d cry, and holding his hand through it all. it wasn’t fancy, wasn’t anything like the high-end places you usually found yourself in, but it was exactly what you needed. chan made you feel alive in a way you’d forgotten was possible.

then there were the movie dates, sitting in those darkened theaters with him, your feet up on the seat in front of you like a couple of carefree kids. he’d always pick the cheesiest movies, and you’d groan, but somehow, they ended up being exactly what you needed. you loved watching his face light up during the action scenes or how he’d lean in close to whisper jokes in your ear, making you laugh so much you’d miss half the movie.

but it wasn’t just the dates. it was the little things. like when he’d have one of his fashion shows for you, parading around your massive living room in the new clothes you’d gotten him. the way he’d strike ridiculous poses, just to make you smile, or how his face would light up when you genuinely praised him, making him feel like he was on top of the world.

and you loved being by his side when his friends came over. they had this infectious energy, pulling you into their world effortlessly. you even found yourself spoiling them now and then, slipping one of them some cash or buying them a round of drinks, because they took care of chan so well, and you appreciated that more than you could say.

chan balanced you in a way that was almost scary. no matter how tired you were after a long day at work, he was your constant source of energy, always there, always ready to make you feel better. you’d stop by some luxury brand store on the way home, picking up a few things for him because you knew he’d love it, and because it made you happy to spoil him a little.

you knew that when you walked through the door, he’d be there, waiting for you. sometimes, he’d pull you into bed, his arms wrapped around you as he coaxed you to sleep, whispering sweet nothings in your ear until you drifted off. other times, he’d be more playful, those dancer’s hips of his working magic as he eased the stress out of your body in ways that made you forget all about the bullshit of the day.

“missed you,” he’d murmur, his voice husky and full of affection as he pressed a kiss to your neck.

“missed you too,” you’d reply, your hands finding their way to his hips, pulling him closer. “you always know how to make everything better.”

and it was true. chan wasn’t just a breath of fresh air—he was your escape, your balance, the thing that made everything else worth it.

[illusioninfnty]

dirty lovin' ↠ day 12 ; public sex

↠ billy hargrove x reader

fandom: stranger things word count: 1k warnings: nsfw 18+, mean!billy (pretty obvious), no prep, no aftercare (damn double homicide), dirty talk, degradation, spanking, slight hair pulling, unprotected sex, creampie

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

“I swear to fucking God, if she’s not out here in the next second, I’m leaving her ass.”

You roll your eyes. “Billy, it’s been two minutes since the bell rang.”

Neil had yelled at Billy to go and pick up Max, so you decided to accompany him, since the two of you were just hanging in his room and making out the whole day. Plus, it had been quite awhile since you’d seen the kid. You missed her spunk and funny quips at Billy.

He clicks his tongue. “Too fucking long me for me.” He flicks his cigarette out the window of his Camaro. He shifts the gear and backs out of the parking lot, driving away from the school.

“What—Billy? What are you doing?” You cry out, grabbing onto the sides. “We need to get Max!”

“She can walk.” He drives for a bit, eventually parking in an empty alleyway. He gets out of the car, slamming the door. He leans into the open window, looking at you expectantly. “Get out.”

You stare at him puzzled, but still comply.

When you walk around to the hood of the car where he now stands, Billy grabs your wrist, turns you around and pushes you down against it.

He grinds on you from behind, and you can feel the growing erection through his tight jeans. “Here? Seriously?”

Billy paws at your ass through your shorts. “C’mon princess, it’ll be fun. Lighten up for once.”

You roll your eyes and sigh. Billy always liked to experiment with you when it came to sex, but being in public had always been something you were hesitant about. It was already heavily frowned upon that you were in a relationship with him; you didn’t want to imagine the outcry your uppity father would have if word caught that the two of you were doing indecent acts out where everyone could see.

But thinking about it more, you didn’t really give a shit. You loved being with Billy, and if he wanted to fuck you in a dingy alleyway, you would happily allow yourself to be fucked in said alleyway.

You shimmy out of your new designer skirt, a birthday gift from your parents, balling it up and tossing them aside. Billy smirks from behind you and you bend over to push yourself against his erect cock.

“Get to it then,” you tell him. “I’m not giving you much time.” A dark chuckle leaves his lips and you can hear the zip of his jeans as he pulls his cock out.

Within seconds he’s slamming into you, and you let out a sharp cry of pain from the lack of prep. You begin to adjust slowly, as Billy starts to fuck his cock into you. Your walls suck him up all the way to the base, squeezing him as tight as you can.

“Such a fucking slut,” Billy hisses. He grabs your ass in a handful, rubbing and squeezing it.

You gasp and bite your lip. “You’re one to talk.”

He barks out a laugh from behind you and spanks you hard, causing you to go limp under his hold.

Your front rubs against the hood of his car, breasts bouncing with the force of his thrusts and hardened nipples pushing against your top cause you to shiver. You reach your hands out to ground yourself.

Just then you hear the sound of a car whizzing by, and you tighten up around Billy in fear. 

“Yeah, fuck, just like that babe,” he groans out, unaware of your fear. “So tight.”

“Billy!” You scold him, stretching a hand behind to smack him wherever you can reach, which ends up being his lower stomach. “There was a car!”

He doesn’t let up with his thrusts, instead flattening a hand on the small of your back to hold you in place. “What’d you fucking think was going to happen?” He scoffs. “You were the one that said we don’t have time.”

Suddenly you weren’t so confident in your initial response. “W-what if someone walks by?” you whisper out.

If it was possible, BIlly somehow seems to get more turned on, his cock pulsing more inside of you. His balls slap against your clit as he presses himself further inside you, burying his cock to the hilt.

“Then I’d cum inside you and then beat the shit out of them for seeing my girlfriend looking so cock hungry like this.”

Although it was probably in no way his intention, Billy’s words both calm you and arouse you more. You feel your pussy relax a bit, letting him slide in even further, before tightening once again like a vice.

Billy laughs mockingly. “Does that turn you on? Someone else watching you act like a slut for me?” He fingers his hand through your hair, grabbing it by the root to pull you up. “I don’t think you want me to leave this filthy pussy,” he whispers in your ear.

“No!” You moan out weakly, not exactly sure which part you were saying it about. Billy pushes your face back down on the hood, cheek pressing up against it. You make a strangled noise as your movement is restricted even further, but he pays no attention to it.

Your body spasms uncontrollably with the weight of his thrusts and cock filling you up to the brim. Your eyes roll in the back of your head as you bask in the pleasure of it all.

Billy starts to go piston even faster than before, and you can tell with the way his cock throbs furiously and the uneven rhythm of his hips that he's going to cum.

He empties himself inside of you with a low groan and a string of curses, pulling out completely after he’s done. You could feel his cum as it drips out of your pussy and down your leg.

Your legs shake from his brutal intrusion and the abrupt stopping of your own orgasm, unable to chase the high of it after the loss of Billy’s size inside of you.

“Fuck, that was good.” Billy slaps your ass one final time as he zips himself back into his pants, causing you to let out a yelp. “We need to do that again some time.”

[lostintransist]

Seamstress | Part 3

Check out part 1 here.

Simon noticed first. Some of his pants, he only had five pairs he rotated between, had gone missing from the laundry. Not terribly unusual, things get mixed up all the time. But when they reappeared worn spots had been patched, his pockets had been fixed, and all the little annoying seams that didn’t lay flat had been tacked down.

Kyle put a hole in the armpit of his favorite shirt, it went missing the next day and reappeared better than before. Roach lost many of his hats to the laundry, but within a week they all reappeared, cleaner and fixed. It wasn’t until Johnny couldn’t find his favorite pair of pants, his lucky pants that he couldn’t take on a mission because they were missing, that they started to talk to each other about the matter.

John called them a bunch of muppets, rolled his eyes, and walked away when the conversation started up about their laundry going missing. First, they examined the schedule for any overlap of their clothes being put into the laundry and their clothes going missing. Nothing stands out, most of the people serving in the laundry are there on assignment and rotate out before clothes are returned.

With this avenue exhausted the guys sit around thinking, pondering.

“What if they aren’t getting picked up by the laundry?” Roach slowly voices his question, as if putting it together only as the words leave his mouth.

Simon picks up the thread next.

“Who has access to our rooms? Laundry obviously, but we have ruled them out. Who else?”

“Base commanders, cleaning staff, Price. I can’t think of anyone else,” Soap shifts, stretching the toe of his boot to sit against Ghost’s.

“Has anyone looked into where Price has been going when he is in late some mornings?” Gaz squints as he thinks.

“Now there’s a thought,” Ghost tilts his head to one side. “Question becomes, do we access his bank account or follow him?”

They all looked at him, waiting for his decision.

“Price guards his phone harder than nuclear codes, I vote we follow him,” Roach chimes in.

“Good point. Anyone have a requisitioned tracker we could tag him or his car with?” Ghost looks over each of his men.

Soap, and Roach both shake their heads. Gaz scrunches his nose and then sighs.

“I want it back when this is over. It was a hard one to get my hands on.”

Ghost nods, accepting the responsibility to get it back to him. They tagged Price’s car that same day. Waiting for any of their clothes to go missing they watched the tracker. Johnny got a tad impatient and ended up ripping off a belt loop off when it got caught on a door handle instead of walking back and getting unstuck. He made a big deal of it too.

“Christ on a cracker,” he growled at the annoyance. Johnny, being a smooth operator, made sure John saw it before he turned in for the night.

Sure enough, tomorrow night the pants were missing from the laundry. Johnny checked the laundry room for them before confirming to the guys that John had taken the bait. The tracker placed John near the manufacturing district in a designated parking lot, but nothing specific.

Johnny’s pants reappeared, clean, the next day with the regular laundry delivery. But they had a starting point. Roach scoured the internet for any business that might fix clothes but found nothing within walking distance. Must be an unlisted or newer business they figured. The following morning, they all skived off morning training that, while encouraged, was not mandatory.

Parking in the same lot that John had the guys split up. Each man took one side of the street and started down a direction eyes scouring each storefront and entrance until Ghost sent out a shrill whistle. Barely checking for cars the men darted for their L.T. who stood in front of a small shop squished between a cobbler and a bakery. The front window simply read ‘Seamstress’.

🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡

You sang along to Disney music this morning. It seemed fitting, as you were stitching together a party dress for a small princess. Her birthday was coming, and she wanted a purple princess dress like Rapunzel but big like Cinderella. Gotta hand it to the kid, that made it easy to design with her dad. This would be the second version she stitched up. The first one fit, until kiddo woke up one morning an inch taller.

When the shop bell dinged you reached around your sewing machine to lower the volume of your music.

“One moment!” You called over the sound of the small engine working loudly. You remembered it was about time for a tune-up on the old thing.

The stitches completed you turn and stand. Four men of varying sizes and heights stand at your counter. Two of them are pretty, no other word for it, and the other two are covered up than some of your niqab-wearing customers.

“Hi, what can I help you with?”

One of the pretty ones, with a mohawk, spoke for the group.

“We were wondering if you could tell us what you do here.”

Leaning to one side you confirmed that your sign still clung to the window in paint. Standing straight again you cocked an eyebrow at the man.

“Pretty sure I’m a seamstress, window says so.”

The tall covered one snorts.

Mohawk sends a glare back at his companion.

“What does that mean? What do you do exactly?” The shorter covered one asks.

“Seamstresses typically create clothes, though I do a lot of repairs too. Why? Are any of you needing repairs done? I can work on suits however I would recommend you out to a local tailor for that, suits are something they specialize in.”

You weren’t nervous. They all had a deadly energy about them, but it wasn’t directed at you.

“How much for a kilt repair?” Mohawk asked, confirming the placement of the accent.

“That would depend on the damage and the cost of the cleaning. Any articles that stay with me overnight get sent to a dry cleaner, it’s built into the charge.”

Waking your tablet you pull up pricing.

“Restoration will run you more than run-of-the-mill repairs, but with the repairs, the kilt will be stored in acid-free paper to keep it from deteriorating.” Glancing up once again you find every pair of eyes on you.

You were starting to regret the lack of a panic button in your shop.

The other pretty one spoke up now.

“Can you tell us if a certain customer has been here? A John Price for example?”

“I am not in the habit of sharing my customer’s habits, no.”

Both pretty men lifted a brow.

“If I show you a picture, would you tell us if you’ve seen this man then, without confirming if he is a customer?” The tallest one asked.

“I think you should leave. Though feel free to call for a recommendation for a seamstress if you need any work done,” you give them your pretty, I’m a weak woman and don’t yell at me smile.

The breath between your words ending and their bodies moving drags into eternity. When their bodies edged through the door and down the sidewalk a way you flicked the lock shut on the front door.

🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡

“You have one new message.” The robotic voice droned at John. “First new message: Hi John, this is the owner of Your Local Seamstress calling. I have your repairs completed, feel free to come and pick them up during business hours, six am to one pm or four pm to seven pm Tuesday through Saturday.”

A lingering pause, John can tell the message hasn’t ended.

“I did want to mention I had a…weird interaction today with a group of men looking for you. Two pretty men and two men covered tip to toe, asked for you by name. Not sure if you might know who they are but I figured I would pass along the information. Please feel free to give me a call if you have any questions.” She gave the shop number as if he didn’t have it memorized at this point.

“To replay this message press one, to delete press seven, to save press nine, for more options press six.” The robot is speaking to him again.

Slamming his thumb into the end call button John missed corded phones and the satisfaction of slamming the phone into the cradle. His muppets had scared his girl.

Part 2 | Part 4

Masterlist

[evermoresqueiswriting]

the one where clarisse learns about her love language

"Late in the night, the city's asleep Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep Change my priorities The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury" - King Of My Heart, Taylor Swift

summary: after getting hurt during one game of capture de flag, clarisse gets taken care of by you and after this, clarisse went from never being at the infirmary to being there almost every day with a new injury. weird for an ares kid to get this easily injured, but you didn't mind

pairing: clarisse la rue x apollo!reader

word count: 6.2k i suddenly lost the ability to write shorter fics bruh

tags: fluff, clarisse fell first and harder

masterlist // ask box

No one at camp had a job at camp per say. Hephaestus kids were the ones forging the weapons campers used, and Demeter kids sometimes cooked dinner. And some Apollo kids – including yourself – were the designated healers at camp. So, it wasn’t your job, per say, to stay at the infirmary all day long, but you were. 

You enjoyed the calm and serenity of that place. The sun always shined through the windows, and you could sunbathe all day long, while listening to your favourite songs or painting. Most of the time it was quiet, except when Will followed you there. He was a rather loud kid, he loved to ask questions and learn about everything you did. 

“Shouldn’t you be playing with other kids your age instead of trying to work here?” 

“Shouldn’t you be socialising with kids your age instead of working for free?” Will replied in the same tone. 

“Rude!” 

“I learned from the best,” he gave you a pat on the shoulder. 

“I regret it. All the time,” you turned away. “If you’re gonna stay here, at least help me clean this place.”

The first time Will tried to help you clean this place, it was a disaster. Before you ran the infirmary, it wasn’t organised, everything was just laying around. Then you came in, and cleaned up the place, and organised it how you liked it. Will didn’t know that, so he just cleaned up like he thought was fine. It wasn’t. And you had lectured him about never – ever – touching anything again without you being there. 

“Tomorrow’s Capture the Flag,” Will started. “They put really far from the flag and the fight, again,” he frowned. 

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It always happens when the Ares cabin is teaming up with us. They’re always leading the fight.”

“Well they are good,” you shrugged. “But you know you can talk to Lee about this, he’s our head counsellor and he could talk to Clarisse.”

He shook his head. 

“Clarisse is kinda scary,” Will admitted. 

“Did I never tell you to never judge a book by its cover,” you put your hands on your hips, “but in that case you’re right. Clarisse does scare me a little bit too. And I’m kinda glad she decided to put me far away from her this time.”

Will rolled his eyes, clearly still upset. 

“Okay, I can see how this isn’t great,” you sighed. “If for the next one, we’re still teaming up with the Ares cabin, I’ll talk to Lee and Clarisse alright?”

He nodded. Hopefully, you weren’t going to team up with the Ares cabin anytime soon. You never talked to Clarisse, but you knew who she was. Everyone knew her. Ares daughter, head counsellor and incredibly scary. She was an amazing fighter, and no one wanted to be at the other end of her spear. 

“I’m just saying,” you ranted to Lee at dinner, “Will is a kid and it sucks that you decided to exclude him.”

“Who’s ‘you’,” he inquired. “Clarisse was the brain behind everything. She’s the strategist.”

“And what are you? A plant? You were there when the strategy was being made,” you argued.

“But Will never said anything to me. It’s always been this way.”

“Well he told me, and I’m telling you. Please pass along this information if we ever get teamed up with the Ares cabin again,” you smiled.

“Sure,” Lee nodded. “You’re the boss.”

“‘m not,” you mumbled and kept on eating. 

Lee was the Apollo cabin’s head counsellor. But really, you were his co-head counsellor. You have been at camp for a long time now, since the age of ten and you have always been a year-rounder at camp. But when the head counsellor spot freed up, you vouched for Lee. He wanted that position, he deserved it, and you agreed. But he always came for advice and your opinion. 

Capture the Flag day finally arrived, and you were getting ready, putting your armour on. You picked your bow and slid it on your shoulder, before leaving your cabin. You joined your team – the red one – and everyone was there already. Clarisse stood tall and proud at the front, planting her spear next to her. 

“Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged,” Chiron announced – like every single time. “Killing or maiming is not allowed.”

“Much to my regret,” Dionysus mumbled. “So yeah, let the game begin or whatever.”

Clarisse turned around, waved her hand around and people were running to their assigned position. You were on flag duty. On top of the hill that had a perfect view of your flag. If you saw anyone from the opposite side you'd shoot explosive arrows to blind and confuse them for a second, so your team had time to disarm them before they could reach your flag. 

You looked around, and spotted Michael and Lee. Chatting, and looking around. Moving on. Ares' kids were fighting some kids from the Hephaestus cabin. Logic. And then you spotted Clarisse. Walking alone through the forest. Probably to the other side where the blue flag was. 

But then you also spotted a group of three Athena kids – blue team – following her closely. Clarisse wasn’t stupid, she probably knew about them following her. 

“What are you watching?” someone asked, startling you. 

“Will! What are you doing here?”

“There wasn’t anyone around the borders, so I came to help you. So what are you staring at?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged, going back to monitor your flag. 

Will stared at you, huffed and went to look at what you were looking at. 

“y/n?,” Will called for you. 

“What?” you didn’t look at him.

“y/n!”

“What?” you gave him a quick glance. 

“Something’s wrong.”

That caught your attention. You looked back at where Clarisse was. She seemed fine. The three Athena kids were no longer there though. 

“What?”

“Don’t you see the trap?”

“What trap?” you frowned, looking more closely at where she stood. 

It was a particularly sunny day. If your dad wasn’t Apollo, you’d be blinded by the sun rays. But your dad was Apollo, so you were doing great. And there it was. The trap. It was so bright, it was hard to spot it. And the Athena kids knew that. So when Clarisse walked over it, it was too late and something came flying toward her. 

“What the hell?” you cursed before running down the hill. “Stay here,” you warned Will. 

Before you left, you gave a quick glance back, and Clarisse was down, surely unconscious. 

“Fuck.”

You sprinted towards where she was when you heard the emergency horn. The emergency horn that Chiron played at the start of every summer so campers would know what that sound meant. A warning for campers that the game stopped. When you reached Clarisse, Chiron and Mr D were already there. As well as most campers. 

“What happened?” campers talked among themselves.

“Move!” you pushed the kids blocking you from reaching Clarisse. 

Clarisse was bleeding from her forehead, and a metal stick was stuck in her left shoulder. It was overwhelming, people squeezing in to see what was going on, talking to each other. Even Chiron and Mr D couldn’t keep them in place. You kneeled beside Clarisse, trying to shield her from the campers, when you spotted one of the Athena kids that was following her earlier. 

You stood swiftly, without leaving Clarisse unattended and grabbed his armour with both hands to bring him closer.

“You take another step toward Clarisse again and I’ll make sure you won’t ever, ever, see another healthy day again. I’ll make sure you and your brothers will wake everyday in pain wishing you were dead instead,” you cursed him. 

You spoke in a low voice, but everyone heard. Just like that, everyone took a step back.

“y/n,” Chiron put his hand on your shoulder. “You’re needed in the infirmary, I’ll bring Clarisse there.”

You let him go, took your armour off and threw it on the ground before walking to the infirmary with your brothers close behind you. Michael had great healing skills too, so you’d need him. Will was learning so he stayed with you. Lee, as your head counsellor, also had to be here somehow. 

“Can you really do that?” Will asked timidly. “Make them sick forever.”

“Apollo kids can inherit dad’s plague powers,” Lee stated. “But it’s rare, and never that powerful.”

Will stared at you, but you only stared at the door. Waiting for Chiron to arrive. 

“Why are you so worried about Clarisse of all people,” Michael huffed. 

Lee slapped his arm. 

“What!” Michael rubbed his arm. 

“Great to know that’s what you’d think if we were ever on the battlefield,” you noted, “choosing who to help and who can die.”

“That’s not what I said!” he shouted.

“Then why shouldn’t I be worried about an injured camper, who just happened to be Clarisse?” you shouted back.

Someone cleared their throat. You both stopped bickering. Chiron. He put Clarisse on the bed next to the window and stepped back so you and Michael could start working. You didn’t need to talk to know what to do. You trained together, as a team, for years, so everything was done flawlessly and quickly. 

“She should be fine,” you announced, “I’ll stay and feed her ambrosia for the next few days and she should wake.”

“Great,” Chiron nodded, relieved. “Great work you two, as usual.”

They all left, except for Will and you both sat on the couch. You stared at Clarisse, with her head wrapped in a bandage, her shoulder too. 

“She doesn’t look so scary now huh,” you said. 

“No,” Will agreed. “So it really was the Athena cabin?”

“I don’t know, I mean I saw them. I don’t think Annabeth would’ve agreed to such a plan. As in a plan that’d almost kill their opponent in Capture the Flag. For a real quest, why not. But Capture the Flag?”

“What’s going to happen to those who pulled this stunt?”

“Well,” you sighed, “knowing Chiron, he’d probably just revoke their dessert privileges for two weeks instead of one. But I’m sure once she wakes up, she’ll know what to do.”

“Kill them?” Will ask, with a horrified expression.

“Maybe,” you shrugged. 

Will left first, leaving you alone with Clarisse. You told him you’d join him later when dinner would come. You went to see Clarisse. The bandages were already soaked, so you carefully removed them. You carefully cleaned her wounds again before bandaging them again. You fed her a tiny amount of ambrosia before joining the rest of your siblings for dinner. 

Before the feast could begin, Chiron gave a speech about how Capture the Flag wasn’t the place to settle personal accounts and that maiming and killing was forbidden. And how this time it went too far. 

“I’ve talked to the head counsellor in question, and it will be taken seriously. There will be consequences, and I don’t ever want to see this happening ever again.”

Campers nodded along, and went back to their table. You devoured your food in no time, not forgetting to leave some for the offering. Then you rushed to shower and clean your face before running to the infirmary where you’d spend the next few nights. 

“I really hope you’ll wake soon,” you told unconscious Clarisse. “I’m not used to having someone else in here.”

You walked around, putting things back where they’re supposed to, and walked back to where Clarisse was. Then you stood again, and sat.

“I’m crazy. A few hours with someone who doesn’t talk to me and I’m going insane,” you sighed. “Well, while we’re here, I have a few things to say, to get off my chest really,” you started your rant. “You know Will, my little brother. Well, Will is capable of holding his own, he can fight… maybe not your siblings, cause you’re all very, very, violent. But you don’t have to put him this far away each time you know, he notices.

“I’m saying,” you rested your back against the bed, “it could be different, you could come up with a different kind of strategy. It works for sure, you win a lot, but we could win in a different way also. 

“You know I saw you,” you continued after a moment. “Being followed by these idiots. I thought you knew, and–,” you paused. “Ugh I should’ve tried to protect you. Warn you. It was my job. Why didn’t I think of that earlier? And it was hot as hell, you could’ve felt a little dizzy and I should’ve–”

“Shut up,” Clarisse wheezed. 

You whipped around, standing up before backing away. 

“Ar– Clarisse?” you whispered. “Are you feeling alright?” you walked to her. 

Her eyes were still closed, she frowned and shook her head slightly. 

“Waw, Ares kids are tougher than I thought,” you mumbled to yourself. 

You went to grab some water and a straw, and sat next to Clarisse, on the bed. 

“You should drink a bit.”

She opened her eyes, and stared at you, with a blank expression. You blinked, and smiled, holding up the straw to her mouth. You frowned when she refused to drink. 

“Drinking water is good for you,” you added. “Please stop staring at me like you want to murder me.”

She rolled her eyes and drank everything before closing her eyes again, and turning her head on the other side. 

“Well, I’ll be sleeping on this bed,” you pointed to the bed next to hers, “if you need anything, shout.” 

Clarisse kept quiet, so you went to bed and fell asleep very quickly. Clarisse, on the other hand, could not fall asleep. She turned head around and looked at you. You clearly slept well, with your mouth slightly opened. After a few minutes of staring outside the window, her stomach growled. She needed to eat. 

There had to be food in here – she looked around and spotted a basket full of fruits and cake. That’ll do. She gathered all her strength and tried to push herself up using her left arm and yelped in pain. That woke you up.

“What’s wrong?” you worried.

“Nothing,” Clarisse panted, biting her lips. 

You rushed to her and saw her shoulder was bleeding again.

“What happened?” you worried, turning the lights on. 

You grabbed clean bandages, and a clean towel with some alcohol and rushed back to her. Clarisse somehow managed to sit up, her right arm holding onto where her left shoulder was stabbed.

“Don’t cover it,” you pushed her hand away.

You started to remove the blood soaked bandages when she grabbed your hand to stop you. You gave her a questioning look. Clarisse quickly let go of your hand and looked away, breathing slowly. You opened your mouth, but then closed it and resumed your work. 

“What were you trying to do anyway?” you asked when the wound was clean. 

“I was hungry.”

“I–, I mean I did say to shout if you needed me but I was not thinking a pained scream with you bleeding again. Just a ‘hey y/n bring me food’ would’ve suffice. I would’ve been up. And that’s done. Good as new.”

Clarisse was still looking away from you which hid her head wound. When she turned her head toward you, you raised your hand to touch her face, but she flinched away hard at your sudden movement. You froze, too afraid to move again. No one talked or dared to breathe – the silence became heavy. Clarisse opened her eyes, and stared at you. She took your hand in hers and put it down. 

“I–,” you breathed, “I was just going to check your head wound,” you murmured. 

“Go ahead then,” she sat straighter. 

You raised your hands slower this time, and tilted her head. You tore off her bandage and put it back in place. Clarisse could hear her heartbeat pacing up. Her mind and body stopped functioning. What was happening? She kept thinking about how your hands felt so warm in the night breeze, and how pretty you looked so close. Then when you dropped your hands, she came back to reality.

“Your face is still good. Like always,” and gave her a small smile. 

“I’ll go eat,” she blurted out before leaving bed.

“Oh– okay. I can go to the kitchen and bring other things if you want.”

“No it’s fine,” she brushed you off, focused on the fruits in front of her. 

Which was hard with you so close behind her. You watched Clarisse eat the strawberries and blueberries and grapes, and then you grabbed an orange and started to peel it. Once you were done you handed it to her. She grabbed it slowly and whispered a low thank you before eating it. Clarisse also ate half of the cake Katie brought to you earlier. 

“Demeter kids, am I right,” you ate with her, “I don't know what they put in their cakes but I could eat them everyday. You should rest now,” you put your hand on her right arm and squeezed it. “You can barely stand.”

This time when Clarisse closed her eyes, she fell asleep instantly. And so did you. The next morning, you were the first one up. As soon as the sun rose, you were ready to start your day. You went to your cabin and washed up before grabbing a new toothbrush for Clarisse. You changed your clothes, and then went to the Ares cabin. You opened the door, and no one was up yet. You spotted the only empty bunk bed – Clarisse had one for herself – and saw her drawer next to it. You grabbed a new pair of pants, and a new camp-half blood tee and left in a hurry. Clarisse was up by the time you came back.

“I brought some of your clothes so you could change,” you gave her the clothes and the toothbrush. “I did sneak into your cabin, but I didn’t look through your stuff, don't worry about that,” you smiled. “I mean, except for your clothes – sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“Well, I’ll let you change and I’ll be… not here for sure. I’ll go get breakfast!”

Clarisse watched you walk away, humming to some songs and when you were out of her sight, she got out of bed to change and clean herself. All she could think about was what happened yesterday. What even happened yesterday?

Before yesterday, you never spoke. She knew your name and vaguely knew what you looked like, but that was it. Since she arrived at camp, she didn’t once step into the infirmary – she didn’t need to. But now, for some reason, all she could think about was you. And how warm and soft your hands felt, how nice it felt to have you touch her face like that. 

By the time you came back, Clarisse went back to bed and laid down. You gave her what you brought and you ate together, picking off the same plate.

“How are you feeling this morning? Does it still hurt?” you pointed at her shoulder.

“I’m—,” she stopped. “It still hurts,” which was true. “A lot,” that wasn’t.. 

“Really?” you worried. “I thought you’d be doing fine, because you woke so early. I thought your body was healing faster than most campers. Well,” you picked a strawberry with your fork, “you’ll have to stay here longer then.”

“Can’t go against the doctor’s orders,” she shrugged. 

“True,” you smiled. “You finish this,” you pushed the plate toward her, “I’ll go get some supplies to change this,” you gently patted her shoulder. 

You rolled your chair away, and grabbed what you needed and rolled back to Clarisse. You hopped onto her bed, and started your routine. The wounds were healing perfectly fine, and very quickly, so it was odd that Clarisse was still in extreme pain. 

“I don’t think these wounds will scar,” you said. 

“A shame, they’d make me look tougher.”

“Look?” you huffed. “You don’t need those to look tougher, you already do. Scary even,” you joke, but not really. “I mean I’m not scared– anymore… but yeah, some people may say– think you do. Anyway, scar or not, you’ll always look and be the toughest.”

“Anymore?” she grinned. “Were you before?”

“I mean,” you dragged that last vowel, “I don’t think scared is the right word. More like– intimidated. I never went to these meetings for Capture the Flag because I knew if you disagreed or worse – dismissed my ideas – I would’ve cried.”

“I never would’ve done that,” she chuckled, “I don’t think you’re capable of having bad ideas. Lee’s constantly praising you and giving us your ideas that I always take into account.”

“Really?” you couldn’t stop your smile. 

She shrugged, and nodded. You playfully slapped her on the shoulder – the left one – and she yelped in pain.

“What the hell!”

‘Sorry!” you backed away, “it was a reflex.”

Clarisse ended up staying in the infirmary with you for three whole days, but she couldn’t fake it anymore when the wound completely healed and it was as if nothing had happened. The day she left, you cleaned up the room and sat alone on the couch, just like before. 

It was weird. Usually, you enjoyed the silence and solitude of the room, but now it was as if time had stopped. Every time you looked at the clock, it’d only been two minutes. And so were the next few days. Then on Friday, as usual, Lee came in to visit. You worked in silence – which was the first odd thing Lee noticed – then he saw how you always stared at the empty bed Clarisse used to stay in. 

“You’re being weird,” he said. 

“I’m not!”

“You’re never this quiet when I visit.”

“The past few days were a bit dry,” you explained casually.

“You can say you miss Clarisse, it’s fine,” he sat next to you on the couch. 

“I–,” you sighed. “It’s just… I was getting used to having someone with me.”

“Well maybe you should spend less time here and more time outside with, mmh I don’t know, Clarisse maybe.” 

“What if she doesn’t see me as a friend though? What if I’m imagining things? She hasn’t visited me once.”

“Then you come back here, and the end.”

“I hate you,” you groaned. “You’re no help to me at all!”

When the door suddenly flew open which startled both of you. You could recognise these hair anywhere. 

“Clarisse?” you called her name. 

She turned to face you, and a gasp came out of your mouth before rushing to her. 

“What happened to your face?” you held her arms.

Clarisse had a nasty cut going from her eyebrow to her hairline. She stared at you without saying anything before turning her gaze to Lee, and he spurted out some excuses and then left. But before he closed the door, he gave you a knowing look saying ‘see, she’s here’. 

“What happened?” you frowned. 

“I don’t know,” she whispered. She cleared her throat. “These few days of rest weren’t a good idea I think.”

“That’s–,” you paused, “not accurate.”

But before she could reply, you grabbed her arm and dragged her to the other side of the room, and let her sit on the chair. You grabbed clean cotton and some alcohol and started to clean her wound. You stood closely to her, between her legs with her hands holding onto your thighs to stay steady. 

“How did this happen anyway?” you asked.

“I was practising with my brothers.”

You frowned, and tried to step away but Clarisse was holding on tight to your thighs. 

“You got beat up by your brothers?” you repeated with a raised eyebrow. “I have a hard time believing this. You’re just better than them,” you said casually before patching up her wound. 

“Why do you know so much about my brothers’ skills?”

“I don’t! I know about yours. And from what I saw in the past, it’s always you leading the fight so I assumed that’s because you’re the best among them.”

“Mh,” she hummed, “well I guess you haven’t been doing your job very well if I’m not back to my old self yet,” she grinned. 

“Or,” you grinned back, “maybe it’s your skills. I think they need a little sharpening. Maybe I could spare some time and teach you if you need.”

She suppressed a smile. 

“Or, maybe you just want to spend time with me.”

You were close to each other, and Clarisse was still holding onto you. You crossed your arms, and stared at her. She was looking up at you, and you were looking down, which was a rare occurrence since she was much taller than you. 

“I’m doing a favour to you at best. But if you don’t want to,” you sighed, “it’s–.”

“I do,” she affirmed. 

That was the start of your friendship. Turns out Clarisse was really glad to hang out with someone that wasn’t her sibling. She was always the one seaking you out. At lunch, at dinner, during classes. All the time. Even when you were working, because somehow she always, always, ended up getting hurt. 

One of the first times she came in after your friendship hangouts was for a sprained ankle. She came in limping, and threw herself on her – not really – bed, groaning. 

“What happened?” you rushed to her side, worried. “You’re lucky I just came back in here!” 

Clarisse didn’t want to admit this, but that was exactly why she was here. She was on her way to her cabin when she spotted you walking around with your sisters and she was so focused on you that she tripped and fell. 

“I just fell,” she explained. 

“You just fell,” you repeated slowly. “Right. Well lucky you because this,” you patted her leg, “will heal in no time with this,” you brought her some ambrosia. 

“That’s it?” she asked.

“Yeah,” you smiled. 

“Oh.”

Then the next time she came, like the next few ones, were always injuries that required you to clean up the wound, and then patch her up. It went from tiny cuts to ‘I have a bruise here’ then showing you her perfectly unbruised skin to serious injuries that she got during Capture the Flag. 

“You know at this rate I feel like you’re doing this on purpose,” you joked when she came in for the umpteenth time. “What is it this time?”

She shrugged and sat on her designated bed, and laid down. You joined her and sat next to where her legs rested. She held up her hand and you took it before she dragged you to lay beside her. The beds in the infirmary weren’t big enough for two so you were half laying on Clarisse with her arm resting behind your head. 

“Did you paint that?” she asked.

The ceiling was painted by the Apollo cabin, all together you decided on a design and painted it over weeks worth of work.  

“Here,” you pointed at the top of the painting. “That was painted by me.”

“Two planets?” 

“The moon and Saturn,” you smiled.

“Linked by a thread?”

“Yea, the red string of fate. It’s from Chinese mythology. The old lunar matchmaker god, who is in charge of marriages, would tie together two people with this red string of fate and they are destined to be together, to be lovers regardless of time, place or circumstances. And no matter what, that thread will never break. It can stretch or get tangled up, but it never breaks.”

“And what about the moon and Saturn then?” she frowned, confused. 

“Because,” you paused. “Your braids like a pattern, love you to the moon and to Saturn,” you started to sing, “Passed down like folk songs, the love lasts so long.”

You turned your head to look at her only to see confusion on her face.

“Taylor Swift, seven,” you explained. “It’s great, we’ll have to listen to it someday.”

“Sure.”

“Really?” you looked at her excitedly.

“Yeah, you seem to like her so sure, I’ll listen with you,” she shrugged.

“Oh and that’s Will’s painting,” you showed her another corner. “That’s my dad and his lover, Hyacinthus. That’s where the name of the flower came from. Isn’t that kind of sweet how he named a flower after him.”

“I mean didn’t Apollo kill – by accident – Hyacinthus?” she grimaced. 

“Or Zephyrus was so jealous of my dad that he killed his lover, because he couldn’t get no man. My dad is an excellent archer. His aim never failed him. I don’t see how it’s possible for him to kill his lover. But gods being petty over these kinds of things, that I can believe.”

Clarisse hummed in agreement. 

“But enough about my father’s love life,” you shrugged, turning around to face Clarisse, “what about your dad? Still desperately trying to woo someone else’’s wife?”

“I don’t want to talk about my dad,” she yawned, then closed her eyes. 

“Okay.”

Just as you were about to continue talking, you noticed that Clarisse had fallen asleep. It was still early in the afternoon so it was still bright outside. You looked around and started to get up so you could pull the curtains but Clarisse grabbed your arm to pull you closer to her, locking you in her arms. 

“Don’t go,” she mumbled. 

“Okay,” you whispered and stayed still. 

The thing was, Clarisse was like a human radiator. Sleeping in her arms felt exactly like sleeping under tons of heavy blankets. This much warmth only resulted in falling asleep in Clarisse’s arms. When you woke, you were alone in bed.

“Slacking off during work hours,” Lee said standing next to you. 

“Fuck!” you jumped off bed. “Why were you staring at me sleeping!” you screamed.

“You weren’t there and it’s almost time for dinner. I’m being a nice brother!” he shouted back.

“Oh. Well, thanks!” you yelled, and gave him a smile. 

You both left  to join your siblings at the dining pavilion, and once you sat at your usual spot, you scanned the room in search of Clarisse. She was at her table like usual, and eating in silence, head hanging low. Your tactic of staring at her wasn’t working even though you knew she knew that you were staring at her. 

“What are you doing?” Lee kicked you with his elbow. “Did something happen with Clarisse?” he whispered. 

You shook your head. 

“I mean,” you leaned in whispering, “we did sleep together.”

Lee’s eyes widened, mouth wide open and he backed away in shock. 

“You– you slept together? In the infirmary?”

“Not slept together,” you rolled your eyes, “she fell asleep and did I.”

“Ah.”

“Anyways, she left without saying anything,” you explained. “And now, I feel like she’s avoiding me.”

“It’s only been a few hours.”

“She’s avoiding me, I’ve been staring at her for at least fifteen minutes and nothing. Not a glance from her.”

“Okay creep. But once again, just talk to her. It would solve all your problems here.”

“She’s the one who doesn’t talk. I talk. A lot!”

 “Trust me, I know. I just don’t think Ares kids are the best at talking, you know.”

“Fine.”

But as it turned out, Clarisse mastered the art of avoiding people – you – when she wanted to. Whenever you tried to talk to her, she would disappear. After a few days of trying, you gave up and told everything to Lee. 

“If she doesn’t want anything to do with me, then fine by me,” you frowned, holding back your tears. 

“I’m sure you’re overthinking this,” he tried to comfort you.

“Oh please,” you huffed. “You saw what happened this morning when I tried to talk to her. I’ll get over it,” you whispered. “I’ll get over her.”

Lee considered himself your best friend, and favourite brother. You never said these things, but he considered you his best friend and favourite sister. And as your best friend he had to do something, he had to talk to Clarisse and give her a piece of his mind. So that night, he was a man on a mission. He walked to the Ares cabin, and waited for Clarisse to either go or or go out. 

“Clarisse!” he called her name when she finally left her cabin.

“What do you want, Fletcher?” Clarisse sighed, clearly annoyed.

“Oh, so you do speak. And here I thought you lost that ability,” he snickered.

“I will punch you in the face.”

Lee rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

“I’m not scared, unlike you.”

“What–.”

“You’re scared to talk to y/n for whatever reason, and I need you to pluck up the courage to talk to her because you’re making her miserable by avoiding her.”

“I–,” she froze. 

Was she making you miserable? 

“You’re just doing your thing and going to her when you need, when you want but have you ever thought about what she was thinking? No. You would if you’d just listened to her, but no,” he made a big gesture, “avoiding her like the plague.”

“Why are you telling me this?” she mumbled, looking away.

“I’m telling you that you made a mistake, and if you continue down this path you’re going to lose her for good. I’m not saying this for you, because I couldn’t care less about you, but y/n is my sister and I want her to be happy and for some reason you are making her happy,” he rolled his eyes, “so do whatever you want with this information.”

Clarisse stood there, not saying anything, watching Lee walking away. But then he stopped and turned around to walk toward her again. 

“Before I forget,” Lee added before throwing his strongest punch in her face. “For making my sister cry.”

And he ran away, before Clarisse could punch him back. But Clarisse was too busy thinking about you to think about Lee and what he just did. If it weren’t for that afternoon in the infirmary, she probably would’ve ran to you so you could take care of her, but now, she couldn’t. So she went to sleep, wishing that tomorrow it’ll be better.

You were one of the first campers to arrive for breakfast. You ate slowly, and by the time the dining pavilion was filled with campers, you were done. But you stayed and listened to your siblings talk. Just as you were about to leave, Clarisse came in and you dropped your fork in shock. She had a black eye and her cheek was bruised, with her nose in a weird shape. She looked at you, as you stood urgently. But then you froze – should you go to her? You sat back down, still staring at Clarisse. 

“What happened to her?” Will whispered to you.

“I don’t know,” you whispered back. 

“You don’t? I thought you were friends.”

“Yea, me too,” you sighed. 

Clarisse was walking to her table, dragging her feet along and when she walked past the Apollo table, you stood and grabbed hand, forcing her to face you. When you noticed several heads staring at you, you dragged Clarisse away and brought her to the archery field. 

“What happened to your face?” you held her face in your hands.

“Nothing,” she leaned into your touch. 

“Clarisse,” you whispered. “Just talk to me please.”

“Lee came to have a little chat with me yesterday.”

“He did this?” you gasped. 

“Yeah.”

You held your hand to your mouth, in shock and to hide a tiny part of you that wanted to laugh.

“And?” you asked.

“He said I was making you miserable.”

“That’s not true!” you insisted.

“I ignored you. And I shouldn't have. I don’t–” she hesitated, “want to lose you,” she mumbled.

“Then just talk to me, we’re friends too.”

“I– I don’t know,” she stepped back and took a deep breath. “I was confused! I– I don’t know I like it when you take care of me,” she admitted in a low voice. “I’m being weird and–.”

“You’re not,” you held her arms. “It’s not weird to love physical touch. I mean, I just assumed that it was your love language you know.”

“What?” she asked, confused. 

“I think what you like is when I hold you or when I touch you because you love physical touch,” you began, “and you were doing everything to visit me, pretending to be a bad fighter and getting hurt on purpose.”

“No that’s no–,” she shook her head.

“It’s fine! My love language is quality time, and there’s nothing wrong—.”

“No it’s different–.”

“It’s not! It’s fi—.”

“It’s because I like you,” she blurted out. 

Oh. You couldn’t help but smile at her confession. 

“It’s not funny!” she huffed, crossing her arms. 

“I’m not laughing! I’m… happy about this outcome,” you rested your head against her arms and looked up. “Because I like you too Clarisse.”

“Really?” she stared at you.

You nodded. 

“I’m sorry about ignoring you,” she added.

“Mmh,” you smiled, “I accept your apology. But you’ll have to make it up to me.”

“Anything you want.”

“A kiss?” 

Clarisse uncrossed her arms and held your face instead and leaned in to kiss you eagerly. And you happily gave in, wrapping your arms around her waist. 

“Mmh, keep doing that and I’ll forgive you, no doubt.”

[whotfelsewantedtobelynnyx]

Chat, I regret to inform you that I have added a new hyperfixation…so…

Agatha All Along Incorrect Quotes!

Alice: Hold the fuck up.

Also Alice, crawling into Lilia’s lap: It’s me. I’m the fuck up. Hold me.

Rio: I have an idea!

Jen: No murder.

Rio, sighing petulantly: I no longer have an idea.

Lilia: I have a bad feeling about this…

Agatha: What do you mean?

Alice: Don’t you ever get that little voice in the back of your head that tells you if something is going to get you in trouble?

Agatha: No.

Jen: That actually explains so much.

Lilia: As far back as I can remember, I’ve always had this little voice in my head telling me to “live it up today, because there’s not gonna be a lot of tomorrows”.

Agatha: You do realize there’s medication designed to get rid of those kinds of voices, right?

Teen: A bird flew in through my window and I’m trying to befriend it.

*later*

Agatha: Why don’t you quit bothering me and go talk to your bird friend?

Teen: Matthew and I are not speaking at the moment.

*the coven, huddling together behind a makeshift shelter to shield themselves from repeated gunshots*

Alice, hastily shoving the others behind her so she can return fire: Agatha, do you have any idea who would want to shoot you?!

Agatha, squashed between Jen and Rio: Many people want to shoot me. I take great pride in that!

Jen, glaring at the group as she hands over bail money:

Alice, tapping her shoulder: What about Teen?

Jen, glaring more: I’ve got to bail him out too? Where’s Agatha?

Teen: No one called her. We used Lilia’s phone call to call Alice and Rio’s to call you. Then Rio used my phone call to vote for American Idol.

Rio: :)

Jen: Rio isn’t answering her phone.

Agatha: Here, I’ll try.

Jen: Alice and I have tried six times each, what makes you think that-

Rio, picking up on the first ring: Hey, sweetheart.

Agatha: The ends always justify the means!

Jen: Do you know who said that?

Agatha: Was it Oprah or someone nice and great like that?

Jen: It was Machiavelli. A decidedly non-Oprah like person.

Jen: I bet you didn’t even finish the thing I asked you to get done!

Agatha: For your information, I most certainly did! Got it done last night!

Teen, whispering to Agatha: You didn’t get it done, did you?

Agatha, whispering back: I don’t even know what she’s talking about.

Lilia: I am at a loss for words!

Teen, glancing at the camera like his mom like he’s on The Office: Despite being lost for words, Lilia yelled at us for the next 45 minutes.

Agatha, carrying Señor Scratchy out of the room:

Señor Scratchy: *snuggles under her chin*

Agatha, kissing his head: You are being punished. Please stop being adorable. I love you.

Teen: I got a trampoline tent for summer sleepovers!

Jen, whispering to the other adult witches: …think of all the sex.

Alice: There are two types of people.

Rio: If you wanted to eat someone, you could put a fire under it and slowly roast them :)

Lilia: …three. Three types of people.

Jen, cautiously: I can’t believe I didn’t notice this before, but…Teen, you are a little crazy.

Teen: Aren’t we all a little crazy here, Jen?

Jen: No, I mean you’re aging-ballerina, child-chess-prodigy, professional magician kind of crazy.

Teen: It’s my mom’s fault. You know, we come from a Jewish family, but she used to tell me the reason Santa didn’t come was because my room was too dirty.

Rio: I’ve come looking for trouble. And if I can’t find trouble, I WILL create some.

Alice: Do you trust me?

Lilia, smiling proudly at her: Yes.

Alice, who has been completely panicking: Wait, what? Why?!

Agatha, awkwardly glancing around for help: Er…Alice, I’m gonna be honest, I don’t know what to say to people who are crying. So I’m just gonna hope that the tone of my voice makes you think I do, okay, sweetie?

Alice, sniffling: …thanks, Agatha.

Agatha, patting her on the back with a bit too much enthusiasm: No problem, kid.

Lilia: I told Agatha about it weeks ago!

Teen: She WHAT?

Agatha: What??? Lilia says insane shit all the time, how was I supposed to know this one was true?!

Lilia: Bank accounts are a sham created by the shadow government!

Agatha: SEE?!

BONUS:

Wanda, watching from the afterlife: so…when exactly do kids grow out of that whole emo, rebellious stage?

Lorna, shrugging: I don’t know. Alice is still in it.

[improbable-outset]

📄 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐂𝐨𝐝𝐞:

𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐇𝐂…

Hey it’s 1am here in the UK and I don’t have a valentine themed fic. So have this set of HC of my AU series that I’ve been working on instead. There is a mix of wholesome and spicy HC. I’m too lazy to put it in an undercut so minors DNI 🔞

𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Scientist Husband!Miguel that will rant about his day in the lab to you. You love hearing him vent to you if he had a terrible day or ramble about an exciting discovery he had made.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that will come home to you from a hard works day in the lab. He likes to rest his head between your thighs while his wife massages his scalp. He melts completely under your tender touch. Your fingers are very soft and soothing.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that will receive small love notes or doodles that are packed with his lunch from his wife. Sometimes even spicy messages if you’re feeling risky. They tend to end with him coming back home and fucking you on the nearest surface. Most likely the couch or kitchen counter top.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that will receive a personalised lab coat with his name on it from you, either as a birthday gift or an anniversary present. He now wears it in the lab everyday since.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that will involve you when he’s designing gadgets and weapons to be used by the Spider Society. He values your input when brainstorming the prototypes.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that will have a personal gym right next to his lab where he would work out and train to maintain his strength and combat skills. This includes a high-tech simulation drill that replicate various combat scenarios to aid and enhance his quick thinking and problem solving abilities.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that will have his wife watch him work out from the sidelines. You would admire the determination etched on his face. Maybe even steal a quick kiss in between sets. Sometimes you would sit on the rooftops while Miguel would do his usual web slinging endurance, navigating the city skyline from building to building as part of his training.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that will fuck you good when he knows he won’t be home for a few days because of a mission in another dimension. He’ll make sure he reaches every crevice deep inside you. You’ll feel a dull ache from the way he stretched out your walls— a reminder of that passionate night and of your husband’s temporary absence. He doesn’t like using toys, he’d rather use his hands and dick do all the work.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that loves to kiss you all over and talk about the function of each part of your body while praising you and telling you how perfect your are. He loves teasing your erogenous areas to increase your serotonin levels and see how much you would fall apart under his touch.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that will receive a blow job from you as he tries to explain the make reproductive system OR while he talks about his day at work to you. He’s lucky to have you help him with his pent up stress.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that probably keeps a track of your period. For research, of course. After you got off your birth control pills, it’s his responsibility to track when your fertility window takes place so he can breed you at the right time.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that is over the moon when you both find out that you are finally pregnant. Of course he would admire the changes of your body while you’re growing his child. He will eagerly share insight about the embryonic development and the hormonal changes, deepening the intimate connection you both already share.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that will admire the changes of your body and will develop a serious lactation kink. He’ll feed from your breast from time to time…for science obviously. He’s just increasing your oxytocin levels so you can produce more milk for your baby daughter. Duh.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that will help his daughter with her schoolwork. I know he will probably put extra effort when it comes to her school science project and will probably be more committed to it than her. He just wants what’s best for her.

Mood board

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @thealleydog @ultravioletrayz @club-danger-zone @lazyjellyfish300 @miguelbaby @miguels-aranita (lmk if you want to be tagged for this au idea)

- Ayrus <3