#not the content (though that was bad also) the actual writing

[dp-marvel94]

Real -Chapter 1

Summary:

While hiding from his parents in Gotham, an ill-timed encounter with his neighbor, Jason, has Danny pretending to be his own twin. Fortunately for Danny, the more he pretends the easier it gets. Until he is not pretending at all. Or: Danny names a duplicate and via ghost logic, said duplicate ends up becoming real.

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Also on AO3

Notes:

This story was written thanks to @jackdaw-sprite who commented on a Tumblr post a wrote asking what I should write next with "I haven't read nearly as many of your works as I'd like to before saying which ones I'd like to see continued, but there's one where Danny names a duplicate, and because of ghost logic, the duplicate becomes real. It feels like such a neat idea to play with!" So here I am writing a whole fic about it! Structurally, this is still very much half-fic outline with some important scenes written out. I'm not planning on expanding it beyond what it is. Still, I hope you enjoy the story. :) A note for readers, those here for the DC content especially: this is very much a Danny heavy fic. The focus will be on Danny and Jamie's relationship as the clone goes from just a duplicate without its own life, to a real person with his own identity. The Bats, Jason especially, will be present, and important for Jamie becoming his own person. But those relationships are definitely secondary to Danny and Jamie's.

After a reveal gone wrong, Danny runs from his parents and the GIW. Soon, he finds himself living in a crummy apartment and trying to keep a low profile. He doesn't have very much, so he is very excited to find an actually in decent shape couch that someone was throwing out. It's late so, figuring no one will see him, Danny duplicates to have two pairs of hands to get the furniture up the stairs and into his apartment. 

Of course, Danny does get spotted by his neighbor, Jason, who offers to hold doors open and help with the unwieldy couch. Names are exchanged: Danny and, after a pause as Danny realizes he has to come up with something for his duplicate, Jamie. The "three" manage to get the couch inside. But now Jason is worried about what appears to be a pair of twins, 16 years old at the most, living alone in the apartment with one ratty couch and a bookbag between them. Jason isn't pushy or overly concerned, but he does make a point to check on his new neighbors regularly. 

After the second time running into Jason and being asked about "Jaime," Danny realizes he's going to have to pretend to be his own twin. Duplication is very helpful for that, though he tries not to do it too often and for too long; it does use a lot of energy. He'll just have the "twins" make regular, short appearances together. It's not like he's trying to get close to anyone in Gotham 

But inevitably, short appearances escalate into having dinner with Jason. The first is a one off; man claimed he made too much and Danny didn't really have money for food. Plus it was really good. Accepting the hospitality just this once wouldn't be that bad. Of course, "Jamie" has come to dinner too.

One dinner leads to more meals with his neighbor, to Jason trying to teach "the twins" to cook more than easy mac. 

Jason's youngest brother meets the "twins" when he pounds on the door during dinner and barges in, complaining that "Father is being unreasonable" and had ground him.

Damian and "the twins" end up huddling in Jason's apartment during Danny's first rogue attack since he arrived in Gotham. Jason ran off as soon as the alert went off, claiming that he was needed at the fire station where he worked. He pointedly says that Damian can stay and look after his non-Gothamite neighbors since he's grounded. The preteen is prickly but does stay put. Danny starts to get restless, unable to re-merge and starting to fear that his energy will waver and "Jamie" will pop out of existence. He nervously eyes the door and Damian threatens to stab him if he tries to leave, saying that "Todd is apparently fond of you both and will be quite peeved" with Damian if something happens to Danny and Jamie. 

Well.... Jamie will definitely disappear if Damian stabs him. So Danny manages to maintain his duplicate for five hours, more than twice as long as any time before. By the time the threat is over and Danny can go back to his apartment, he is straining, desperately trying to hide how exhausted and shaky he is from the excursion. He loses hold of the duplicate as soon as the door is closed.

Despite the hardship, maintaining a duplicate is somehow so much easier after that. He can stay duplicated for longer and gradually, he realizes controlling the secondary body is becoming easier. At the beginning, he needed a lot of effort and control to pilot the duplicate, having to mentally direct it to speak or move. He played "Jamie" as being shy and quiet, so there was less talking to dictate. But overtime, the need for mental prompting becomes less and less. Playing "Jamie" became more automatic, more instinctual. Almost like the duplicate runs on auto-pilot, mostly acting how Danny himself would, though more reserved. To an outside perspective, it looks like "Jamie" is finally getting comfortable and coming out of his shell. But to Danny, this was a relief, spending less energy running his duplicate and less time worrying about being found out.

Slowly, Danny meets more of Jason's family. One of Jay's brothers, Tim, runs into him at his coffee shop job and, blinking sleepily, asks which twin he is, before realizing that Danny is wearing a name tag. This leads to Danny's coworkers finding out about "Jamie" and his "twin" visiting him at work.

As the act grows and more people end up meeting "the twins," Danny spends more and more time pretending to be a pair of twins in more and more ridiculous situations. Playing both of them gets easier and easier, more and more comfortable until the twins can banter, share inside jokes, and tell stories from their childhood. Maybe it is intentional, maybe it's subconscious. But slowly, differences develop to differentiate the twins. "Jamie" is growing out his hair. He loves toast and watching documentaries about history. Danny, more and more convincingly, pretends to have a brother until at some points... it no longer feels like he is pretending.

Despite his new friends, Danny is still so lonely. The apartment is still almost bare, the money he gets from his job barely enough. It's never the job he wanted; he wants to be in school now, applying to colleges so he can get into NASA. But he can't do anything to draw attention to  himself, not with the government breathing down his neck or the danger of the vigilantes running him out for being a “meta”. And he misses his friends and sister so badly.

One particularly hard night, when he is heartbroken and hurting, Danny lies on his second-hand mattress in the dark, weeping. He mourns his parents turning on him, his heart aching for Sam, Tucker, and Jazz. He wishes more than anything that he was not alone right now.

Suddenly, there is a yanking on his core that leaves his gasping. A full body pulling sensation that almost feels like being peeled, except somehow it does not hurt. A second later, it is over and through his blurry eyes, Danny can barely make out a figure kneeling in front of him. Arms coax him into sitting up and pull him into a hug. Danny cries for a long while, not thinking about what just happened, not thinking about what... or who... is holding him. He just accepts the comfort, savors the feeling that he is not alone.

Finally, after the tears slow, Danny pulls back and looks. He lets himself realize what he is looking at. And as he takes in eyes like his, the feeling is something between awe and fear. There is a light in the blue eyes, a spark that he does not recognize. 

And as the brow wrinkles in confusion and the mouth slowly works, words spiral out. Words that Danny could never have predicted.

"If we... if you keep doing this..." Each word is slow and deliberate, as if each takes great effort. "This...." One hand motions slowly, vaguely, as if un-used to movement. "Jamie won't be a lie anymore."

Danny is stunned. He stares for a long while, unable to process. He does not understand what the words mean, why the spark in those eyes makes him just as elated as it makes him afraid.

So he takes the duplicate's hand and pulls the ecto-energy back inside himself. He reabsorbs it and "Jamie" disappears. And Danny thinks.

Slowly, he realizes how easy staying duplicated has become, how distant and foggy memories from his duplicate's perspective are. He replays the words in his head. 'If you keep doing this... Jamie won't be a lie anymore.' He wonders if they mean what they suggest, and most startlingly.... he wonders where they had come from, if not from himself.

For a few days, he avoids anyone who has met the twins or claims that his "twin" is busy whenever someone asks. But inevitably, his trusty neighbor Jason notices the avoidance and invites himself over to cook dinner. Reluctantly, Danny duplicates; there is clearly no avoiding this conversation.

The dinner is awkward. Danny has a hard time looking at Jason.... and an even harder time looking at his seeming twin. None of the three say much and by the end, their neighbor huffs a sigh and says his piece. 

“Look. I know that no one, especially two teens, live in a shitty apartment in Crime Alley if they can avoid it. I don't know if you got kicked out, ran away from home, are hiding from something. And I don’t care. I won't ask. But I was an alley kid. I lost my mom younger than both of you, ended up on the street. I know what it's like just scraping by, trying to survive all on my own.  That's why I look out for the kids here. I want to help you guys, no matter what your story is.”

Danny stammers out a disbelieving thanks. He is touched, really, despite the fear of discovery, of vulnerability quivering in his heart. Jason is a good guy and it feels good to have someone who cares. But... the maybe-not-a-lie sits on the couch beside him. A story he could never hope to explain...

Jason smiles, ruffling both of the twin's hairs. He stands to leave. "Take care," he says, almost afterthought. "You're lucky to have each other."

"Jamie" seems to lean, just the tiniest bit closer to Danny at the words. 

Jason leaves and it is just Danny and his duplicate. The half ghost releases a breath, letting some of the tension release. He reaches to reabsorb his double and-

A shaky hand grips his forearm. Danny looks, meeting the blue eyes. The spark is back, just the smallest hint in the posture that something is different. Slowly, the brow wrinkles, becoming something worried.

"What is it?" Danny finds himself saying, as if he expects a real response.

"Have... each other." Again, the words are slow as if just the act of thinking is hard. "Not a lie."

Now Danny's brow is wrinkled. "Not a lie? Are you saying that's true? Or asking if it is?"

"Not a lie." The words repeat. "Jamie not a lie."

Danny's stomach knots. He’s heard his duplicate speak dozens of times, even been surprised by some offered puns. But this…

“Not a lie.” One more repeat, this one faster, surer, almost desperate.

Danny looks up again. “Jamie.” He says the name. He’s spoken to his double before in front of other people, as part of the act. But this… it feels as bizarre as it feels right. “Jamie…. Are you… real?”

For just a second, there is something like hope in the other’s eyes. Then, the brow furrows in great effort. “Yes… No….” One more longer, unsure pause. “Becoming.”

“You’re… becoming real?” The words are breathy. Danny isn’t sure whether they make him feel that same hope, or if he feels sick.

The half ghost looks away, staring down at his lap. He doesn’t know what this is, how this is  happening. A moment of panic stabs. Is he sick or insane? Or… is it a trick? A trap?

Danny reaches with his mind, trying to feel. A parasite infecting him? Another ghost, trying to overshadow. There is a connection, a bundle of a dozen fine threads. It is a link to… something not quite separate. Danny feels the almost presence at the end, the not-quite himself he is speaking with. And… It is like cradling a baby bird. Small, fragile, and so young. No malice, just pure innocence.

The half ghost looks up again. His hand shifts, feeling the cold flesh. His fingers press, the almost flutter of a heart beneath the skin.

The awe from that late night rises, a question echoing in his head. What happens if he lets this  continue? 

He… won’t be alone. Danny remembers that night, crying on his mattress and desperately wanting comfort. And all those times hanging out with Jason. The jokes and banter started as an act to sell the lie. But… weren't they so much more now? Danny had pretended to have a brother and in pretending had imagined one… Now that brother, that twin sat beside him. 

But at the same time… fear spiked. What would happen if he didn’t stop this? Could he even stop this if he wanted to? It feels inevitable, unstoppable. Not if he stays living next to Jason. But… if he tells the truth? Or if he runs, starts again somewhere else. He could reabsorb his duplicate now and let this whole thing fade into memory. Jamie would disappear…

A wave of fear surges from outside himself. Danny meets terrified eyes. Something in him softens, crumples.

“Jamie?” Danny asks again and can almost feel the heart-flutter solidifying. “Do you want to be real?”

There is a pause, the fearful face becoming something narrowed eyes and sure. “Yes.” So much determination. Danny feels the one thread of dozens snap.

“Alright then.” Danny heaves a sigh, deciding. 

He will hold out as long as he can. He will stay duplicated, keep Jamie here until he’s not a duplicate at all. Jamie will be real.

[nenilein]

Firey, eway was actively and fully arguing in bad faith there. I've talked to eway about this exact topic before and they just 100% backslid on everything we talked about. By giving them an inch/benefit of the doubt, you are allowing your own reading of the text to become less coherent in the process.

A lot of this stems from the direction SEGA has taken Puyo Puyo these days. Obviously I'm not saying they're doing all bad, or that they're going strictly to child friendly, but these are some observations I've made. Whether they're true or not is up to interpret.

You're already so much better faith here than eway, tbh. Like, you're not arguing on the same level, you are actually trying to properly read the text as it exists and leave a margin for error.

SEGA has been going a bit more kid friendly with Puyo Puyo as of late, especially compared to the direction that Compile did. Let's comprae some; Compile's version of Puyo Puyo stems from their original dungeon crawler series, Madou Monogatari. This is not new news to most people, in fact it's very common knowledge. However, I'm bringing this up to display the tonal shift SEGA and Compile has. Madou Monogatari was an RPG dungeon crawler, it was gritty, it was gorey, it was less 'kid friendly' and more 'a kid could play this if they really wanted to'. In fact, the majority of Compile villains listed above where from Madou Monogatari games instead of ones released under the Puyo Puyo title.

That's not really true, though.

I've played all of the Madou games, most of them are extremely kid friendly (sometimes more so than the Sega games by a huge margin) and the only real "not child-friendly" stuff in them is in 90% of cases sexual jokes/content, not dark storytelling or gore.

The PC 98 ports of Madou 1-2-3 are extreme outliers that were so badly received by the games' fanbase in Japan that Compile immediately backtracked on them and went back to cutesy art and kid-friendly text pretty much permanently. There's an actual interview in a compile magazine about this that I should probably translate at some point. The idea that Sega Puyo is "more kid-friendly" is something of an urban legend that exists solely due to people seeing screenshots of the PC 98 Madou 1-2-3 ports and misreading them as the norm.

The Count was a villain in Madou Monogatari R. Runelord was a villain in Madou Monogatari S. Yoggus was a villain in Madou Monogatari (Saturn). I sure this doesn't need to be pointed out, but Compile kept a lot of their more irredeemable villains in their Madou Monogatari series. One exception to this is Doppelganger Arle. Doppelganger Arle, while she originally appears as a doppel through the Madou series, a trait not strictly bound to Arle as Schezo also encounters doppels, has her most prominent appearance in a Puyo Puyo title.

That is *PARTIALLY* true, but it's not because Madou Monogatari is "darker", it's because Madou Monogatari doesn't have a need for a large recurring cast, because most of the characters are just mook encounters. All the villains that aren't "redeemed" as Eway calls it (that verbage is so loaded, I dislike it immensely tbh) are characters who never appear again and aren't actual "characters" so much as obstacles for Arle, Rulue, Schezo and Ragnus to smack down. They're glorified natural disasters, basically.

Sega Puyo, on the other hand, wants to keep guys around, so they need to be more interesting and have more depth than "this thing that we cast Jugem on reaaaaaally hard that one time".

Like, think about it, do we care about Runelord in isolation? No, we care about what he MEANS to Schezo's ongoing character development and how his presence ties into the latest developments, such as the bunch of stuff that happened with Schezo in Puzzle Pop.

Does anybody ever draw/write anything about the Count or Yoggus? I drew a SINGLE Yoggus-related commission once for a person I'm not even in contact with anymore, and even that was more of an OC than the actual monster from Madou Saturn.

These 1-time obstacles just aren't characters. They're facilitators. That's a big distinction.

Doppelganger Arle appears as the overarching villain in Puyo Puyo~N (Puyo Puyo 4), and while the non canon light novels give her a more tragic backstory, she doesn't have a concrete one in Puyon. She's simply a scary villain, and she does a good job at it. Due to her ties with being a Puyo character, this means SEGA can use her as they please.

This is also a misunderstanding. Doppel's "backstory" isn't in any of the non canon lightnovels either. It's in a blog post made by a former Compile writer in the early 2010s, of which the original isn't even online anymore, because the social media said blog was on shut down. So in the Compile era, people didn't even KNOW that writer had that headcanon, because it wasn't out there. So this isn't even a Compile era thing, this is a "a single writer had an idea he never used" thing.

As SEGA has taken over, such things have been watered down to make it easier to digest for children.

Uhh, that's not really true either. What Sega did was make the characters more *consistent*

Compile had a HUGE issue where the franchise had no series bible, to the point every single writer would write every single character differently. Even some of the Puyo Puyo Tsuu manuals made FUN of that by pointing out how Arle's character and lore are insanely inconsistent and wondering if that means there's multiple of her running around. So a lot of "traits" people think the characters had in Compile are traits they only had for a single game, then never again, and that directly contradicted what came before/after. This extends across all of Madou and Puyo (and Nazo Puyo)

When Sega came around, the writers there immediately started "clean up" by solidifying what each character is and isn't in a series bible, as is standard in the entertainment industry for any sort of narrative media. So if any traits you have seen anywhere in Compile Madou/Puyo is absent, it's because that trait didn't make the cut for the series bible during the clean-up phase, which served to make everything consistent and coherent.

But, it's also rather frustrating when you want to see an evil villain. SEGA is, of course, capable of doing such a thing, but at the end of the day they do need to make money, and it's easy to make money off kids games.

This is really a bit of a misunderstanding of how Puyo is marketed. It's really not a kids game (in fact, Quest has a disclaimer that you should only play it under the age of 14 under the supervision of an adult, because, it's, well, a gacha game, and gacha games are not made for kids at all), but a "nostalgia bait" game, aimed at millenials primarily. Kids are actually just a SUB-SECTION of Puyo's market, which, yes, Sega is happy to get into the fold to, but are not the primary focus. The primary focus are millenials who grew up with Madou/Puyo in the 90s, which is heavily reflected in the merchandising and the character polls. There's a reason why Arle, Schezo, Witch and Draco dominate the polls and merch the way they do.

The reason we don't get Madou 95 type stuff anymore is, again, as I said above, there was a HUGE backlash against Madou 95 back in the 90s. This is NOT what the Japanese fans want. They want cute slice of life shit with these characters, and they want jokes. I actually had a discussion about that with a Japanese fan a week or so ago, where said fan outright said they don't WANT Puyo to go harder on the lore, because it would ruin so many fandom-wide headcanons, it would be more of a hindrance than a help.

Puyo/Madou was never perceived as a plot-heavy franchise by Japanese fans, and plot-heavy installments always tended to be far less popular than plot-light, which makes it a miracle modern Puyo goes as plot heavy as it does and is a testimony to how much the writers care about writing plots with these characters. Back in the compile days, the most plot heavy entries in the series, such as Saturn Madou, tended to be sales failures that contributed to Compile's bankruptcy. The primary reason why Madou Saturn is such a rare game these days is because it sold very poorly.

I'm not well versed in Aya and Klug's lore, though I know the basics. I'd be delighted to see Aya stay irredeemable, or at the very least difficult to sympathize with. We'll just have to hope I suppose.

And, as I said in my response to eway, this is just eway completely misreading the contents of all the games.

Aya was never portrayed as "evil".

Fever 2, from the very beginning, made it outright clear they are just a desperate victim of racism that stole their life away and that their ruthless actions are a result of wanting that life back, not of "evil".

Thanks for being such a level-headed person in discussing this, but I kinda feel you gave too much effort here... and so am I. >_>

Neni out.

I am getting sick of the redeemable/not really evil villains. Yes I do like them but there's just so many now! It was far more varied in Compile!

[Post this and I will reblog with my rant about this subject]

shit, sorry I didn't post earlier. Yap away. Or... yap eway...?

[teapot-of-tyrahn]

hello !!! i'm ...

➟ sugar !! i also go by charlie , echo , scott , timmy -- call me whatever's more comfortable for u !!

➟ i'm genderfluid, asexual and biromantic + greyromantic !!

➟ my CURRENT hyperfixations are on NINJAGO and the TRAFFIC LIFE SERIES !! if you're seeing THIS pinned introduction, TRAFFIC LIFE SERIES is currently the MAIN brainrot !

➟ i am a 🚸 MINOR ⚠️ !! please interact with this in mind !!!

➟ i have GAD [ generalized anxiety disorder ] , separation anxiety disorder , social anxiety disorder , selective mutism , depression , DPD [dependent personality disorder] , ARFID [ avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder ] , and involuntary age regression ! though these topics probably won't be discussed at length , please keep them in mind when interacting with me !! at times i may go NON-VERBAL or slip into LITTESPACE , and i ask you be patient with me at those times, thank you !

➟ this is a FANDOM SIDEBLOG - my main blog is @sugrx !! here is where i post FANFICTION, FANART, ANALYSISES , AUS, USERBOXES,,, etc !!

➟ basic ! queerphobes, xenophobes, misognists, sexists, ableists, racists, terfs, maps, pedos, fatphobes, etc - any and all bigots of ANY shape or form !! ➟ nsfw / fetish / kink blogs !! again , i am a MINOR , and though i'm fine with having mutuals who ARE 18+ , i'd rather avoid 18+ content , thank you !!

[themyscirah]

Started thinking about the Amanda Waller + Ben Turner relationship again.... fuck, I'm gonna need a minute

[theatomicpsychotic]

Tbh I feel the biggest takeaway from the hbomb vid isn't exactly "get their ass" about these specific people and more the "you are not immune to uncritically accepting the media you consume"

Like he literally gives you a bunch of keys over and over and over again to seeing through the lies and fact checking people you enjoy/idolise and I feel I'm seeing a lot less of that takeaway then just purely the mentality of ganging up on specific people you can morally dislike now bc they did a bad thing.

[friendlyneighbourhoodfreak]

Samdeanjack is one of my favourite things and there is a lack of content about them.

I absolutely adore the idea of Jack either lying about having bad dreams, or actually having bad dreams and coming into Sam and Dean's room (because they share a room) looking like a toddler that's in a similar situation and asking if he can come and cuddle. At first, Dean would be a little apprehensive (Sam would not and so Jack always slept on Sam's side of the bed) but pretty soon, he warmed up to the idea and Jack started to sleep in the middle of the two brothers being swaddled in cuddles.

It wouldn't take long for Jack to no longer need a room of his own because he spent so much time in Sam and Dean's. The older hunters would always kiss him goodnight before kissing eachother goodnight and they'd all fall asleep in a winkline sandwich.

My ideas aren't only fluffy though, I love whumping the fuck out of characters but I'm in a fluffy mood so that's what you're getting.

Also, I may or may not be writing a fic similar to this

does anyone wanna talk about samjack or deanjack or samdeanjack with me 🥺🫶

[gachaparadise]

I've been doing interludes lately (as you do during an interlude campaign) and the gap in quality and character analysis is insane sometimes. I did Qsh and Nezha's back to back and... Night and day over here. Qsh's was so charming and showed me a new side of my beloved moth, as well as some really cute gap moe moments. Nezha's was boring, hardly focussed on them at all, and made the same tired jokes about their gender over and over... Even the blurb on their profile you get after it's complete does it orz

[porcupine-girl]

An important message to college students: Why you shouldn't use ChatGPT or other "AI" to write papers.

Here's the thing: Unlike plagiarism, where I can always find the exact source a student used, it's difficult to impossible to prove that a student used ChatGPT to write their paper. Which means I have to grade it as though the student wrote it.

So if your professor can't prove it, why shouldn't you use it?

Well, first off, it doesn't write good papers. Grading them as if the student did write it themself, so far I've given GPT-enhanced papers two Ds and an F.

If you're unlucky enough to get a professor like me, they've designed their assignments to be hard to plagiarize, which means they'll also be hard to get "AI" to write well. To get a good paper out of ChatGPT for my class, you'd have to write a prompt that's so long, with so many specifics, that you might as well just write the paper yourself.

ChatGPT absolutely loves to make broad, vague statements about, for example, what topics a book covers. Sadly for my students, I ask for specific examples from the book, and it's not so good at that. Nor is it good at explaining exactly why that example is connected to a concept from class. To get a good paper out of it, you'd have to have already identified the concepts you want to discuss and the relevant examples, and quite honestly if you can do that it'll be easier to write your own paper than to coax ChatGPT to write a decent paper.

The second reason you shouldn't do it?

IT WILL PUT YOUR PROFESSOR IN A REALLY FUCKING BAD MOOD. WHEN I'M IN A BAD MOOD I AM NOT GOING TO BE GENEROUS WITH MY GRADING.

I can't prove it's written by ChatGPT, but I can tell. It does not write like a college freshman. It writes like a professional copywriter churning out articles for a content farm. And much like a large language model, the more papers written by it I see, the better I get at identifying it, because it turns out there are certain phrases it really, really likes using.

Once I think you're using ChatGPT I will be extremely annoyed while I grade your paper. I will grade it as if you wrote it, but I will not grade it generously. I will not give you the benefit of the doubt if I'm not sure whether you understood a concept or not. I will not squint and try to understand how you thought two things are connected that I do not think are connected.

Moreover, I will continue to not feel generous when calculating your final grade for the class. Usually, if someone has been coming to class regularly all semester, turned things in on time, etc, then I might be willing to give them a tiny bit of help - round a 79.3% up to a B-, say. If you get a 79.3%, you will get your C+ and you'd better be thankful for it, because if you try to complain or claim you weren't using AI, I'll be letting the college's academic disciplinary committee decide what grade you should get.

Eventually my school will probably write actual guidelines for me to follow when I suspect use of AI, but for now, it's the wild west and it is in your best interest to avoid a showdown with me.

[caramelkoo]

before we shatter — jjk [one]

genre : established relationship, idol!jungkook

word count : 6k

summary : dating an idol is fun, they said. having a family with one is fun, they said. Until you're falling face forward because of your reality. A reality where Jungkook dreams of a future and a reality where your own future is collapsed.

chapter warnings : nsfw, strong language, mature content, fluff, so much angst, smut, talks of infertility, clit sucking, fingering, Jungkook worships her, dirty talk, doggy style, reader is in so much pain i love her sm, fall vibes <33, gift giving as a love language, pussy slapping with his d, big dick energy, jungkook is desperate. that's about it please mention if i missed anything.

read part two here

a/n : based on this ask so thank you anon for coming forward and giving me a chance to write this. i also wanna mention that im no doctor so please forgive me if i didn't do the topic of infertility justice. the second part gives more clarity in their case so please be kind to wait. enjoy and im v v grateful for you. you're so loved.

When you were a child, barely five, an orange butterfly came flying outside your front door. Your mom told you about it since she saw it first causing your entire face to instantly light up like the fourth of july.

An inexplicable joy filled your whole body making your day ten times better, not that you were having a bad one. A five year old can’t have a bad day whatsoever.

After you were done chasing it around, secretly hoping that it would land on your nose just the way they show on television, you had to let it go and head back inside. 

Oddly enough the next morning you saw it again, this time it was not flapping its wings like it had last night, instead it was sitting on the window beside the door. Quiet and still. 

You, ever so curious, had to ask your mom about it. “It might find comfort there,” she said. 

Up until you met your boyfriend you had spent the majority of your time wondering where your comfort place is, what is that one place where you can just be yourself and not pretend to be some stoic woman. A place which lets you cry whenever you want but also replaces those tears with wide smiles and loud giggles. 

Turns out, it’s your boyfriend’s arms. 

It’s true. Jungkook with his kind, sparkly bambi eyes and bunny smile stole your damn heart a few years ago and is not willing to give it back. Although you can’t complain, in a world where people can’t seem to find the one for themselves, the angels up there granted you a guy every inch a gentleman. Safe to say it’s not one like one of those titular relationships you've come across. 

He’s your solace, a roof where you can safely just about exist. 

He heals you.

Dating an Idol comes with several perks, the biggest one of those being dealing with the huge amount of selective criticism. You feel hurt, of course, but when you’re with Jungkook, they are nothing but words behind a pixel. A pain that only lasts momentarily. 

This pain though, is not as mundane. This one is making your stomach twist in apprehension. You’ve lost the count of how many deep breaths you’ve taken.

“I’m afraid this is a case of infertility miss _____” the doctor says, earning your attention.

You’re not able to form a word, however that does nothing to stop your subconscious mind from screaming, I knew it.

Being stupid enough to think you were well prepared to hear her say this, you mustered up the courage to enter the four walled white space which, at that time, didn’t feel as narrow as it does now. It’s almost as if it’s closing up on you.

Only after you sat before the woman in white coat and bad news, did you realize how gut wrenching this actually feels.

You face her with a weak smile, one that doesn’t actually reach your eyes, “Are- are you sure you’re not mistaken?” 

Dr. Ana leans forward, resting her forearms on the table. The move itself tells you more than you need to. “Miss _____, I know it’ll be hard for you to come to terms with this but I suggest you try. I would also like to tell you, and I hope I’m not overstepping, but you can always go with adoption. The options are endless.” 

Your throat feels awfully dry and you gulp. “Thank you uh, can I ask you for a favor?” 

“Anything”

“If you happen to cross paths with Jungkook, please don’t mention anything about this to him.” 

Dr. Ana flashes you a kind smile, “Of course not ____. It’s your personal matter. I wouldn’t dare.” 

“Thanks a lot.” 

With one last nod you excuse yourself from her office. Your phone buzzes inside your pocket and you take it out, seeing Jungkook’s number stare up at you. 

“Hey” 

“Hey, my love. Are you busy?” His voice nearly brings tears to your eyes. It also brings up a question. Will he act the same towards you after you tell him where you are and what you just heard? Will his voice be filled with the same amount of excitement and affection for you? 

“No, honey. I’m actually at my sister’s place. She was craving some alone time with her husband and asked me to babysit Coco”

You can visualise him awing already. Jungkook has grown attached to your sister’s daughter a little too much. His bond with Coco is just so bright it makes you wonder if they happened to be an actual father and daughter duo in the past life. They’re both full of beans and it’s a delight to see them both together. 

He chimes, “Ah my little Coco bean. Is she near? Let me hear my angel.” 

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you try to come up with any transitory excuse that doesn’t make you run for the hills. “She’s sleeping right now. Made me work for it but I managed to settle her down” 

Jungkook moans from the other side of the line and you mentally curse yourself. Not only are you lying through your teeth but also using your innocent niece as a pawn. From the day you began dating Jungkook, you’ve not looked at any other man. For the first time now, you have this nagging feeling as though you’re cheating on him. 

“Well, alright next time then. When are you coming back home?” 

“As soon as they do. Do you miss me already?” I tease.

“Pfft me and miss you? Impossible” 

You gasp, the audacity of this boy. “How rude!!”

Your goofy boyfriend dares to chuckle, “I carry you with me everywhere I go, love. It’s hard to miss someone who’s this close to you every time of the day.” 

It doesn’t take you long to grasp what he is referring to. The heart shaped bracelet rests proudly on his wrists and the man had refused to take it off ever since you gifted it to him. A sense of longing already creeps up in your heart, twisting it until you run out of breath. 

Your chest expands as you fill it with much needed air, “Listen, honey I’ll give you a call soon yeah? I think Coco has woken up and I must go check if she needs something,” you fake a chuckle, “You know how she gets when she’s irritated” 

“Oh yes of course. Promise to give me a call soon?” 

This time the smile on your face is genuine, “I promise” 

“Give Coco a kiss for me. I love you.” 

“I love you.” 

There’s a heavy weight on your chest as soon as you hang up the call. Maybe it has always been there. So, for a couple of minutes you just stand there in the hallway of the hospital taking in the sterile smell and worrisome patients, praying that the highest power up there gives you one last chance so you could try and fix what’s been ruined.

The commotion around you does nothing to overtake the voices in your head and sadness fires through you as you feel like you’re burning your boats. Despite all of that, you pray for one last time, this time for again being strong enough to let go. 

Let go of your happiness.

Let go of your salvation.

Let go of your comfort.

Let go of Jungkook.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

You click the door shut behind you, hanging the coat on the rack. You’re not even done turning around when a muscular arm wraps around your abdomen and you’re pulled back against a taut chest. 

“I missed you” his voice is muffled against your jumper.

You run your palms over Jungkook’s forearm, stopping to interlace your fingers with his.The way his hands fit with yours is adorable to you as if they were made to do so. The bracelet on his wrist is cool against your skin and you smile. “You know what’s funny? This guy I talked to earlier said it’s impossible for him to miss me” 

He rests his chin on top of your shoulders, cheeks warm against yours. He has grown out a stubble which makes him look manlier for some reason and you can’t stop caressing it with your fingers whenever you cup his face.

“You’re talking to other guys?” If you hadn’t known Jungkook better than himself, you would have missed the pout of his lips when he said that. 

You turn your face and place a sloppy kiss on his cheekbones, “Only my favourite guy in the whole world.” 

He breaks out in a toothy grin and holds your gaze. “You’re my favourite girl too but I think you already know that.” 

You nod but the pang of guilt is still lingering in your heart. “Still love hearing it.” 

Jungkook releases you from his embrace and walks back, rounding the kitchen counter until he’s holding up a large bowl. “Ready for our fall ritual?” 

Jungkook and you have been using your mum’s recipe to bake chocolate chip cookies every fall and while you enjoy baking with him, the thing that you take the most pleasure from is his face when he munches on the first cookie.

It’s one of your favorite sights ever. It takes quite a bit of effort to bake them but hell if you wouldn’t do it all over again just to see him close his eyes and moan like it is the best thing since sliced bread. 

You join him behind the counter and look around. From the way the batter has already been prepared you suppose he’s been at it for a while. There are some chocochips in a small bowl across from you with some cranberries next to them because he knows you like them in your cookies. 

“You don’t ever forget about the cranberries, do you?” 

“Nope. They’re your favourite plus if you eat well, I can eat you well– ouch,” he jumps, “What was that for?” 

You offer him a glare which does nothing to stop the smile threatening to break out of your lips, “Behave” 

His face inches closer to yours, “Now honey don’t be acting like I didn’t give you the best orgasm this morning” 

Oh well, how can you forget about that? Ninety nine percent of the time you love waking up in his arms while he’s the big spoon but there’s that one percent where he wakes you up with his head between your legs, sometimes with his face under your shirt sucking on your nipples. Indissoluble passion within him. His ability to satisfy you with his mouth alone needs to be studied because god if you don’t crave more and more. 

You blink, once twice thrice, “You’re incorrigible” 

He lets out a cackle at your flustered face as you wonder when you will stop blushing like a fool around him. It’s been years and he still makes you feel like you’re wrapped up in a ball of jitters. Jungkook leans back and straightens up. He plucks the apron from the counter before coming up behind you. “Hold your hair up for me” He demands. 

You grab a fistful of your hair and lift them up as he settles it on your neck before tying the knot at your back. With one last kiss on the back of your neck he joins you. 

“How long has it been since you began making this?” 

“Not long ago. Thought I’d wait for you to come back home and then continue”

You watch him add the chocochips into the dough. His tattoos are barely visible behind the cozy sweater he’s wearing. At the risk of sounding like a hypocrite, Jungkook with his perfect physique and gorgeous face looks good in everything, more so naked, but nothing triggers your cuteness aggression more than him wearing a fluffy knitted sweater, believe it or not. One which you knitted at that.

He pulls your attention away pausing your little drooling session, “How’s Coco bean doing?” 

A sudden urge of getting close to him creeps up and you sneak between the counter and him, hugging him as you nuzzle your face in his chest. He smells like cinnamon. He places a gentle kiss on the crown of your head before resting his chin there. 

“You smell so good” 

“Thanks and she’s as chaotic as ever. Nailea bought the cutest pair of pyjamas for her,” you look up at him,  “She looked like a loaf of bread when they made her wear it.” 

“No way. Should we buy her another one of those?” he pulls back, barely able to hide the excitement on his face.

“You’re gonna spoil her” 

“Damn right I will and if you call this spoiling, wait till I get one of those made by me.” 

There it is. 

If Jungkook wasn’t so fond of children, would it have been easier for you to cope? You do realize that you’re a stone’s throw away from losing him for once and for all. In the old days you heard somewhere that it takes a strong man to save to save himself and a great man to save another.

You want to be that brave person who saves him from lifelong loathing and regret towards you.

This turning point in your life gives you two options, one where you can hang by a thread and bite your tongue while you continue your life with him, another where you set him free. The latter one wins and you, however, lose. 

“Hey you went silent there. You okay?” He cups your cheek with one hand, his thumb grazing your cheekbones so gently you try not to cry. 

You nod and flash him a smile. Or at least you try to smile and detach yourself from him. “Perfect. Let’s get those cookies baking shall we?” 

Jungkook keeps looking at you with an expression which tells you he’s trying to search for something, but you try not to give anything away. Yet.

He gives you a look, his eyes sparkling under the low light in the room,

“Wait here for a second i’ll be right back” 

“Where are you goi-”

“Just a second. Don’t move” His voice trails off as he goes further into the bedroom. A minute later when he comes back, there’s nothing different about him except the sneaky smile on his face. He walks towards you and grabs you by the waist as he sits you on the counter. Your hands instantly clutch his shoulders for support. 

“What is happening, baby?” You mumble, clearly in a fog. 

He says nothing as he gets down on his knees. Taking a hold of your right leg, he places it on his thigh. You swallow.

He looks up, clashing his eyes with yours, “You ask too many questions, do you know that?” 

Seconds later he’s taking something out of his jogger pocket and a cool sensation brushes your skin. You peek down, curiosity finally killing the cat as you see a silver anklet adorned by a pink stone in the middle of it embraced around your ankles. 

His name is a whisper on your lips, “Jungkook”  

He gets up, facing you as he stands. But not before pecking the anklet as well as your skin. His face which earlier was eerie, now entirely soft. 

“Mom sent this for you.” 

You don’t hold back tears this time, letting them run free. You glance at the jewellery again as it shines under the light of the kitchen lamp. The pink stone glares at you as if it knows you’re not worthy of such a valuable item. 

“It’s beautiful”

He gently wipes the tears away,

“It’s just the beginning, love. I’m not gonna stop until I see a band wrapped around your finger. I feel too lonely being the only one there.” 

You playfully smack him on the chest, a giggle slipping free. With a tired shake of your head you admit, “This is overwhelming” 

“What is?” he asks,

“All of this,” you keep your gaze on him, sniffing as you continue,“Your little acts of service, your love, your presence and now this gift. I feel like I’m taking too much not giving enough” 

Your throat feels too tight, as if someone is just cutting off your air supply when you should be feeling free in his arms. 

Jungkook’s eyebrows tense as he reaches for you. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear he tries to reassure you, “Don’t say that. I hate when you question your worth,” he pecks the back of your hands, “These hands feed me, hold me when I need them to, give me warmth, gentle touches”,

His lips find both of your eyes next as you close them, feeling his soft lips on them,

“These eyes tear up with happiness every time you listen to me in the studio”,

Your ears follow next, “These ears tolerate my snoring”,

Then your lips, “And this mouth, my favourite, whispers ‘i love you’ to me every morning, leaves kisses on my skin, screams my name and most importantly, forms the loveliest smile when I make you happy.” His eyes are oh so gentle as he says this. 

You’re about to respond when his phone buzzes on the counter next to you. Your heart stops. Fuck is it Dr. Ana?

To your surprise, it’s Jimin’s number on the screen.

“Pick it up, honey. It might be important.” 

His thumb presses on the red button as he declines the call, “I’ll talk to him later. My girlfriend comes first.” 

Neither of you say a word as the room gets filled with a comfortable silence. The cookies are long forgotten, your eyes doing all the talking. Even if you try your hardest you’re not sure you can say anything which is remotely justifiable of what he just said to you.

Jungkook is so much more than meets the eye, he’s vulnerable, he’s empathetic, he’s loving. His eyes shine the brightest when he’s happy about something and you’re so full of contempt about the fact that eventually you will be the one to snatch away that shine. This hornet’s nest is going to ruin me, ruin him. 

“I wanna kiss you so bad” He whispers, leaning closer but you stop him with your palms on his chest.

“Wait, I-I want to talk about something” 

His voice is downright pleading when he says, “Later baby. I’m fucking gonna die if I don’t take that mouth right now. Please?” his breath touches your bare lips. 

Feeling a flutter in your chest you nod and he leans towards you, hand cupping your lower jaw as he touches his lips to yours. Softly at first, then his pace quickens. Your hands grab his sweater as you pull him even closer, deepening the kiss. His moan echoes followed by your own as you both lose yourselves in each other. You let go of every menacing thought and just focus on the taste of his lips. 

He pulls back slightly, taking a deep breath as he fills his chest with air. Those beautiful lips are pink and swollen from the heated kiss you just shared with him. Getting rid of the sweater, he tosses it aside as his eyes sparkle with amusement.

Without wasting any time he begins nibbling at your neck, slightly biting onto it as your hands run over his back. He’s so beautiful it takes your breath away. Not to toot your own horn but you have the most gorgeous boyfriend and you’re not ashamed to show him off. 

His lips ghost over your nipples from over your high neck top and you groan.

“Jungkook, please” 

He pulls back with a smug look on his face, “Please what ____?” 

“Please fuck me. I need your cock so bad.” 

“Yeah? Is that what my girl wants?” 

At this point your body is thrumming with anticipation and desire as you watch him move his hands closer to the waistband of your pants. His hands pause when they meet the lace material, his pupils dilate. 

He smiles, “It’s the one I gifted you. Were you hoping for this huh?” 

Your lips stretch into a smile. You hadn’t particularly hoped for this, no, because your relationship with him is not just based on physical pleasures. You guys have sex of course, but it’s not the prominent part of the bond you share. It’s more than that. The lace lingerie set was gifted to you by Jungkook on a random day. It was one of those quote unquote just because gifts. 

“What do you think?” you ask, giving him a quick kiss. 

He grabs you by the back of your neck and holds you there for a moment before leaning back and looking straight into your eyes. “I think you should lose it or else I’ll ruin it” 

You gasp, swatting him on the bicep. “Don’t you dare. It’s my favourite pair”  

Without preamble he picks you off the counter making you wrap your legs around his waist. You both are so close it takes your breath away. Chest to chest, groin to groin, face to face with lips inches away from each other’s as you share a breath. 

He walks into your shared bedroom as you clash your lips against his, pulling his lower one between yours, earning a groan out of him. You both are downright feral, letting your hands run over every area of each other’s body. Jungkook’s hands grabbing your ass, yours pulling on his hair lightly before trailing down his chest, pausing on his pecs. 

When you reach your bedroom, he sits himself down with you on top of his lap. Your hips move forward and you hiss as your still jean clad pussy brushes his cock. He’s so hard you wonder if he’s close to coming already. 

Rough hands scrape over your back, hips, down your thigh before they finally settle on either side of your waist, gipping them tightly but also with a hint of gentleness. One thing you admire about your man is that he doesn’t treat you like a fragile woman, he knows you’re strong and you’ll not break if he’s rough with you. 

Jungkook pulls back from your lips.“Fuck honey, you’re such a goddess. Look at this body. I still can’t believe I get to call you mine” 

You shake your head, totally under his spell. “I’m the lucky one here, baby. You have no idea how lucky I am.” 

His hand brushes over your ass before he dips it inside your pants, reaching your already soaked pussy as he pushes a finger inside you. This earns a whimper from you as you tip your head back. 

“That’s where you’re wrong, ____. Want me to show you how lucky I am?” He takes the finger out before pumping it back again. You moan as his other hand gips the nape of your neck and he brings his mouth to your neck, biting on it. 

“Oh my god” you cry, seeing him suck the finger clean and face forming an expression filled with the deepest level of satisfaction as he closes his eyes. 

Setting his eyes back on you, he sighs, “This isn’t my first time tasting you, honey. But it gets better every fucking time and I find myself craving you an unhealthy amount, you know that? Do you know how crazy I am for you? Could eat you out everyday and wouldn’t need anything else to feel full.” His words send a shiver down your spine. “You’re my favorite meal.” 

He pushes three fingers back inside with a slight force and you let out a scream, arching your back. He takes one nipple into his mouth and gives it a long suck, letting it go with a loud pop. 

“Oh yes, just like that. Suck it again, baby” You beg and he does exactly that as he takes the other sensitive bud into his mouth. 

You’re not sure if you have been this vocal about your needs with anyone before him. Not that you dated a lot, for a person who’s a hopeless romantic to the core you’ve always found yourself waiting for the right one. Additionally, you believed your body to be as sacred as a temple. Surely there had to be a guy somewhere who would treat it as such.

Then, enters Jungkook who not only was out of your league metaphorically but literally. He lived miles away from your place so there was not a chance you could have let anything take place between the both of you. But as they always say, the heart wants what it wants. To put it briefly, there was chemistry, a connection you didn’t want to lose.

Strong fingers pump into you. In and out, in and out. “You’re so wet. What do you say? Should I lick you clean?” 

“Yes, ah oh my goodness that’s sooo good” you toss your head back, slowly grinding against his hands. 

He wraps an arm around your waist, lifts you off his lap and tosses you back on the bed. Keeping his eyes still locked with yours he gets rid of his jogger, letting his cock spring free.

It bobs and you lick your lips, already wanting to take it into your mouth but you know for a fact that he wouldn’t let you do that, not because he doesn’t want you to but because he wants to give you the highest amount of pleasure first. As he always does. 

Jungkook lets out a shaky sigh as gives his cock a pull, his eyes running over your whole body. Up and down then back at your face again. You’re still not fully bare in front of him while he’s standing there, all in his glory. 

“Lose the pants” he commands. 

You immediately slide out of them and toss them on the floor somewhere. He grabs you by the hips, jerking you to the edge of the bed as he sinks down on his knees. Spreading your legs wider he releases a breath. Warmth touches your wet pussy and you prop yourself up by the elbows to look at him. 

You need to look at him if you want to stay sane, have to feel him with you here. Shivers run through you even by the thought of not being able to feel him and this ever again. This might as well be your last day on this god awful planet from the way the ache in your chest keeps on increasing. It makes a home there, not letting you entirely forget about the eventualities. 

“God you’re dripping, honey” 

“For you” you admit.

Hot and wet kisses are left to the inside of your thigh and your hands find the back of his head as you grip it lightly. 

His head lifts up, his eyes finding yours, “Don’t hold back,____. Grip it as tightly as you want to. I don’t want any hesitations because when I fuck you, I’m not going to be holding back. You hear me?” 

A desperate moan leaves you, and he rewards you by kissing your pussy. Keeping his eyes on you, he doesn’t give you a chance to whine out your needs before his tongue is licking a single line up your clit.

He moans and gently tugs on your clit. “Such a perfect cunt” 

You push his head against your pussy and rock forward, chasing your orgasm. 

“Feels so good, feels so perfect, baby” you murmur.

Just when you’re starting to feel the climax incoming, when Jungkook suddenly grabs you by the waist and flips you, so he’s lying down and you’re on top. Then, he grabs you by the back of your neck, pulling you for a heated kiss. 

He pulls back, “Sit on my face, my queen” 

Your eyes widen and you hesitate, but you don’t want to. You wanna let go, knowing you’re lucky enough to get something like this in this lifetime, so you give in. He hoists you up by the hips, positions you over his face and pulls you down. His warm breath feels like a soft whisper against your pussy. 

You cry out in pleasure as soon as his tongue dives deep inside you, squeezing your tits in your hands. Grinding against his face, you close your eyes and just… feel. Feel the heat, feel the emotions, feel the intimacy, feel the ache in your chest.

A thought crosses your head and you wonder if you’re doing something wrong, something selfish. Touching him like this and getting consumed by him feels like you’re doing nothing but ruining him. 

He sucks on your clit with sheer eagerness and desire, pulling you further down so you’re putting your weight on his face. Concern perks up and you look down, trying not to crush him but it seems like he couldn’t care less. 

“Let go, honey. Just focus on my mouth.” 

Let go. God, how bad you hate those words. They feel like acid in your ears. 

“Keep going, Jungkook. Don’t you dare stop” you cry out. 

Soon enough you’re aching your back, cunt pulsing against his lips as you come. He swallows every single drop as if he’d die if he doesn’t and leaves you in awe. You slump, letting your body relax.

Much to your amusement, he doesn’t give you enough time to relax before he’s turning you over until you’re on your knees. Hot passionate kisses are placed on your sweaty back, pulling a gasp from you. 

“What a fucking sight. I wish you could see how stunning you look right now and it’s all because of me, isn’t it? This glistening back, this wet cunt,” he strokes a finger down your pussy, “It’s all because of me and you dare to call yourself lucky?” 

You catch a sight of him stroking himself over your shoulders and your breath quickens. 

His abs are glistening with sweat and his chin still has your cum on it. 

He smirks, “Like what you see, honey” 

“You’re beautiful” 

His eyes soften, letting his hands drop from his angry and already leaking with precum cock, he grabs either side of your hips and lines himself against your needy pussy. You let your head drop on the mattress and clench your fist, preparing yourself for him. He gives your cunt a slight slap with his cock before filling you in, groaning as he goes deeper.

You moan, “Fuck baby. That’s so deep.” 

“You’re so warm, honey. You feel like home” he thrusts again. 

His hands grip yours, and he covers your body with his own, still thrusting inside with rough movements. His chest feels warm and safe against your back as it fills you with a deep sense of safety, protection and love.

You match every thrust of his with your own, moving your hips backwards. Your tits are getting equal attention from him as he pinches the two sensitive buds between his fingers. 

You both chase your high with you screaming out his name and him whispering yours like a prayer. He gives in one last thrust before he’s coming inside you, his teeth biting on your shoulder. You’re following him soon as you grip the bed sheet tighter in your fist, moaning as you come. 

Before you collapse, he pulls you upright and lets his cock slide out of you. His fingers push his cum inside your throbbing cunt, making your stomach twist in pain.

You murmur. “I love you” 

His lips stretch into one of those lazy smiles you love so much. “I love you too, my precious girl. Now, do you wanna sleep or go make those cookies?” a sloppy kiss is pressed on your forehead. 

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you pull him on top of you, “Should we save those for later? I really wanna cuddle” 

He presses a soft kiss on the tip of your button nose, “Sure. Let me clean you up first. You don’t have to move an inch, just relax.” 

Minutes later he’s coming back with a bottle of water and a bowl of marshmallows. You bite back a chuckle when you look at his face. There’s such a deep crease between his eyebrows you’d think he’s trying to win a game of uno or something. 

But it’s short lived when he places the items on the nightstand and gazes at you, his eyes having the same funny look they had earlier in the kitchen.You try to summon your most unbothered and good natured grin but it doesn’t do shit to stop the electricity from running through your blood. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, biting your lip.

An uncertain laugh slips out of him, “I don’t know. I’m- God, I really don’t know but I have this weird feeling that something is not right.” He begins cleaning you up but you can’t shake the feeling of nervousness and anxiety away. 

You know for a fact that he’s right. Something is not right, in fact nothing is right. 

He peeks at you from between your legs, “Hey, what is it that you wanted to talk about?” 

The air whooshes out of your lungs. Should you come clean? Is it the right time? 

You huff a tight laugh. “It’s nothing actually. Can we talk about it later?” 

When he’s done cleaning you up he places a small kiss on both your knees and stands up. Offering you a nod, he says, “Whenever you feel like it. I’m not going anywhere” 

Yet. He’s not going anywhere yet. 

You grin, “I wouldn’t let you” 

He lets a laugh slip out as he walks inside the bathroom. Then, he comes back, settles himself beside you and brings you closer by wrapping his arm around your waist. His feet find yours as he touches the anklet with them. 

“Let’s sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up” he promises. 

Morning comes quickly as the sun casts its glow on your sleepy yet excited eyes. Holding out a hand, you try searching for your boyfriend next to you, but a slight sting arises in your heart when he’s not there. You open your eyes, adjusting to the sunlight. 

Although, you hoped you did not wake up, you hoped death consumed you in your sleep because the person across from you is a total stranger. A stranger whose eyes are misty and mouth is pulled down in deep frown, a sunflower bouquet in one hand and the other one holding a blue file so tightly you can see his knuckles turning white.

Jungkook holds out the file to you, “How long were you planning to hide this from me,____?” 

For the first time in your life, you hate your name. You hate how bitter it sounds coming from his mouth like this.It has always been “____, you’re my everything,” “I love you,____”, “_____, you mean the world to me”.

Acid bubbles in your stomach at his words, and you can’t help but sob. You wonder if the butterfly was preparing you for this day. If she could talk, what would she have said to you? 

The words that leave him next might as well be daggers in your chest, "Tell me, honey. Is it the important thing you wanted to talk about but held back just to get a good fuck out of me?"

@fluttershy-vanilla @theyysam37 love you pookies. enjoy <3

[that-sarcastic-writer]

A Ballad of Lost Souls

Eric Draven (2024) X f!reader

Summary: what happens when two lost souls find each other? Cling to each other? Love could be a very dangerous drug indeed. You and Eric meet during rehab.

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, brief handjob, hair pulling, choking, size difference, size kink if you squint, bit of inexperienced!reader, Eric is actually a sweetheart, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of substance abuse, addiction, mentions of suicidal thoughts, this movie is dark what do you want me to say

Reader has tattoos, but has no further specifications, y’all get to be tattooed girlies today, you’re welcome

WC: 5.7K I’m sorry

Inspo creds @kingkat12, she also posted an Eric fic with the same concept and some of the elements of this story like some of the dialogue bits were inspired after reading hers. Please give her some love! She’s a great writer

A/N: NOBODY LOOK AT ME. idc, I love Eric okay, stfu. I just had to write him. He just needs love man. That’s all. I want to give him love. So here you go. I might make a part two if there’s enough interest. When I tell you the Eric fic supply is LOW, I’ve never seen one so LACKING. So I just had to yk? Enjoy and don’t cancel me alright.

You didn’t often dwell on the past. You had a live in the moment kind of mindset. You didn’t know where you’d be tomorrow so you made the best of the moment. But sometimes, you wondered just where your bad decisions were taking you. You didn’t mean to end up here, in this awful bubblegum pink sweater and sweatpants, surrounded by people who didn’t care why you were here, or if you got better or not. The disappointed words of your mother played in your head, and the angry words of your father hammered in the back of your head. You were a fucking disappointment, and that’s why you were here. 

You thought about ending it. This mess your life had become. It wouldn’t be too hard to find a razor around here if you truly tried. Who would miss you anyway? What even was the point of it all? By day two you couldn’t take this shit anymore. And then you saw him in the yard. You were almost entranced by him. He was so tall, he towered over everyone he walked past, you couldn’t imagine how ridiculous you would look standing next to him. You could see his ink cover his hands and fingers, and you wondered just how far the ink traveled. You were intrigued by him, he was quiet, morbidly so, he didn’t say a word to anyone, no matter how much they pressed or tossed him around, he just stared. Whether it was the doctors, the counselors, the guards. He always chose silence. And he always had this look of defiance, of apathy, he took everything with a locked jaw and deadpan eyes. And that intrigued you.

Should you try to entertain anyone in this facility, let alone the loner covered in tattoos? No, absolutely not. But lord, something about him drew you in. 

You caught glimpses of him for a few days, in the cafeteria when you walked past him to your table, maybe he thought you didn’t notice, but you caught him turning his head to watch you walk by. One time, your eyes met, they were a pretty shade of green. It was brief though, as soon as he realized you caught him, his eyes were in front of his plate, but not before you managed to flash him a tiny smile. Welcoming, playful. 

Eric remembered that. 

The next time you saw him was out in the yard. They encouraged exercise in this place, for some dumb reason. The most people did around here was stand in a corner, feeling completely miserable under the scorching sun. But much to your surprise, after some time walking around the yard you found Eric, lingering by the gym equipment. It wasn’t much, just a pull up bar and that was barely tall enough to accommodate him. No weights, of course, because someone could hurt themselves, or someone else with them. It wasn’t much, but you couldn’t help but watch as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head, revealing even more tattoos going up both of his arms. You stood in a corner like a fucking weirdo, watching as he did pull up’s, as best as he could having to bend his long legs to accommodate the short bar. Why were you just staring at this man you’ve never even spoken to? Of that you had no clue. But you couldn’t take your eyes away. He had his back to you, but even under the material of his white t-shirt you could see the muscles in his shoulders tense, his arms flexing with each pull. And you could only I magine the true sight of him. Sweat dripping down his forehead, lips pulled between his teeth as he did each pull. God, you felt like such a pervert. You shouldn’t be eye fucking him like this, but you couldn’t help it, something about him twisted the most secluded corners of your mind.

Ultimately your trance was cut short, since it didn’t take long for a group of guys to take interest in whatever Eric was doing and went straight to push him around some more. You frowned, almost upset by the sight of him getting tossed around and hazed like this. You couldn’t hear what was happening, but Eric had his head down, chest heavy as he clenched his fists at his sides, but he otherwise did nothing. You didn’t care, any fucks you still had to give were gone the moment your parents and your ex-boyfriend conspired to send you here. You were about to walk over there, not caring about what weird opposite sex rules this place had. But when you started walking, Eric did too, getting shoulder checked as he pushed his way past the group of guys. You felt awful, you wanted to say something to him, but you were frozen when he walked past you, his green eyes shooting a quick glance at you, a bit of curiosity laced in them. But you were more focused on how his shirt was clinging to his sweaty chest. And just like that he was gone.

The next time you saw him was during a group meeting that afternoon. You were almost disappointed at first when he didn’t show. You sulked into your seat for the first minute or two, upset you wouldn’t get to see him today again. And then you saw him. His expression as apathetic as ever, like he would rather get beat up than sit through this bullshit. His hair was soaking wet, small droplets of water still falling from the tips of his raven hair. Great, now the image of him in the shower was ingrained into your brain. As if you didn’t feel filthy enough.

You bit your lip softly, sitting up as he sat across from you, his expression blank with disinterest as his tattooed fingers played with the hem of his pink sweater. You weren’t paying attention either, you were more entertained by the way his long legs spread open as he slouched on his chair, taking as much space as possible. You thought about how nice it would be to sit on his lap. You glanced at his hands, they were huge. How easily he could grab a hold of your ass, or hold you still by your neck. How his long fingers would feel so deep inside you. You thought about how easily he was doing those pull ups, and you thought just how easily he could hold you down, throw you around to as he pleased with you. Truly, you would happily let him use you. You could feel heat rush to your face as you crossed your legs, trying your best to ignore the heat pooling between your legs. Why were you lusting so hard over him? You didn’t even know his name. 

Almost as if he could hear your pounding heart, Eric looked up to find your eyes lingering on him, one leg crossed over the other tightly. He tilted his head with curiosity, and his fingers twitched around his sweatshirt as your eyes met. He didn’t feel like looking away this time. The longer his hooded eyes were on you, the more nervous you became. You could feel your breath hitch in your chest as his eyes burned you. You only looked away when the counselor said your name, followed by stares. 

Shit, were you supposed to say something? 

You opened your mouth, immediately closing it as you had nothing to say. You didn’t even hear the question. You pursed your lips and shook your head lightly. The counselor sighed softly and looked to the girl beside you instead. It was common for most people here to refrain from speaking so he didn’t think too much about it. But when your eyes found Eric again, there was a small hint of amusement in his eyes, a ghost of a grin tugging at his plush lips. For the first time since you’ve been here, you saw something other than disinterest on his face. 

Perhaps he was just as drawn to you as you were to him. 

~~~

You pulled your lips into a disappointed pout as you searched around the cafeteria for his black mullet, not being able to find him. And here you thought today would be the day you finally spoke to him. You were about to sit at the nearest empty table when you found him. Even sitting down he stood out. You smiled to yourself, your heart pounding in your chest with anticipation. You looked around for guards, none were paying particular attention to you so you did it. 

He lifted his head slightly to glance at you, a quick second before his eyes were back on his plate. You saw the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. You smiled to yourself.

“I like your ink.” Were the first words out of your mouth. You said them in one breath, afraid he would get up and leave. His eyes lifted from his hands to meet yours, his eyes then fell to your own hands, one of them covered in distinct patterns and colors from your wrist up to your fingers. He wondered what else you were hiding under your sweater, like him.

“Hm.” He gave you a small nod, his plush lips pulled between his teeth in a way that had you clenching your thighs. “I like yours.” 

You smiled, the first genuine one since you’ve gotten here.

“I have more.” You whispered, leaning close to him, like it was some secret only for his ears to hear. His eyes flickered with amusement and he gave you another hum, his eyes now looking everywhere they could in hope of finding said secrets. 

“Me too.” His lips curved up the slightest bit as he lifted one of his sleeves up enough to reveal more tattoos going up his arm. Your eyes lit up as you excitedly leaned down closer with the excuse of getting a closer look. Your proximity was certainly way too close for this facility.

Leaning impossibly close to him without actually touching him, you looked up at him and with a playful smile you pulled down the collar of your sweatshirt to reveal more designs along your collarbone, the rest of the design hidden by your sweater as the colors continued down your shoulder. 

“But don’t tell anyone.” You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to hide your smile. He gave you what sounded like a chuckle and he shrugged.

“Who would I tell?” Though his face remained expressionless, his eyes had a glint that mimicked your eagerness, he welcomed your proximity. “Here he comes.”

You were confused by his words and you opened your mouth to question him as he sat back, his head lifting in the direction behind your head. 

“Males and females can’t sit together!” One of the guards, one you had noticed had a particular thing with Eric shouted, roughly grabbing the back of his chair to force him up on his feet.

“Huh? Wait, why are you taking him?” You talked back to the guard. “Hey, he didn’t do anything! I was the one that sat here. I—I’ll move. Don’t be such an asshole! Leave him alone!” You tried to help, even going as far as standing up but the guard was already taking the new owner of all of your attention away. Your heart sank as you watched the guard shout at him as he dragged him away.

He had managed to turn his head back for a second, and when your eyes met, he half smiled at you. He was almost proud of the fact that you tried to stand up for him. “I’m Eric!”

You smiled. 

~~~~~~

“Found you.” You skipped into Eric’s room, finally seeing his door open.

You hadn’t seen him since you got him in trouble at their cafeteria the day before. You got in some trouble too. You had a one on one meeting with a counselor about your choice of words and your “temper” but it was nothing more than just a slap on the wrist. Truly, you felt worse about getting Eric in trouble more than anything. You didn’t mean to, you just wanted to talk to him. He must have gotten punished because you didn’t see him during gym hour. You leaned against the doorframe as he turned around to find you. Curiosity filled his otherwise empty eyes, and a glint of amusement replaced the usual apathy in his gaze.

“I never left.” He answered with a shrug as he shuffled through the mess that was made of his artwork. Sketch papers were scattered all over his room, torn off the walls. Perhaps after getting in trouble during lunch they used that as an excuse to go through his room. 

“I’m sorry for getting you in trouble.” You expressed with genuine regret, shooting back a glance to the hallway before inviting yourself into his room. Much to the protest of the rational voice in your mind. You looked at the floor as you almost stepped on a piece of paper, you happily picked it up, admiring the black charcoal coating the page before you set it on his bed.

“Is that why you’re here? To apologize?” Eric asked almost cynically as he glanced over at you, not moving from where he stood.

“Well yeah. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” You said sheepishly, a bit intimidated under his intense gaze. There was always a look of defiance in his green eyes, determination even. He gave you a sarcastic hum, which made you roll your eyes.

“Why did you yell at the guard? You got in trouble too, didn’t you?” He asked lowly, his head slightly tilted as he searched for that little thing you did around him, when you clenched your hands at your sides, or your thighs on your seat. His eyes irked with amusement when your fingers twitched at your sides and your lips parted open.

“‘Cause… You didn’t do anything wrong. You never do anything, or say anything. And everyone around here always pushes you around. It’s fucked up.” You answered quietly, daring to meet his eyes. He pulled his lips into a small pout and nodded slowly. His silence was always so nerve wracking to you.

“Yeah, so?”

You scrunched up your face, sighing heavily at his questioning. What did he what you to say? You didn’t know why you cared. You shrugged, picking up another piece of paper by your feet. You half glanced at it as you spoke.

“I dunno.. I just.. Oh my—” You cut yourself off as you gave the drawing in your hand a proper look. You narrowed your eyes, giving the drawing a closer look, and your jaw fell open. It looked like you, your hair falling over your face, dark scribbles covering your body symbolizing the unknown designs on your body, the only intelligible one being the patterns on your collarbone, the same one you had shown Eric. But what truly caught your eye was that you were in fact, completely nude. Truly, his imagination surprised you, he had imagined every curve of your body well, despite not having seen any part of it.

Based on your flustered expression, Eric could only assume which drawing you had picked up. He swallowed, his cheeks flushing pink being caught red handed. But he didn’t look apologetic, at all.

“This what you do in your spare time? Draw naked girls?” You asked with big eyes, the still working rational part of your mind screaming alarms, but a part of you also filled with excitement at his perverted mind. Almost as if you were on his mind as much as he was on yours.

He shook his head. “Just one.” He answered with a shrug, a challenging look in his eyes. 

Either you walked out right then and there, and that would be that, or you would go all in. He was trying to figure out which one it would be.

“You are very talented, this is—” You dragged your tongue over your lip as you walked closer to him, catching glances at his other artwork. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached him, his gaze making you shudder. He said nothing as you stooped in front of him, now having to tilt his head down to meet your gaze. God this man was so goddamn tall. “You could totally sell this for some money.”

“But,” you continued, swallowing hard as you looked up at him, and the way his green eyes looked at you made your mind all fuzzy. God, you haven't felt this euphoric since you got here. This rush of adrenaline made you dizzy, but you pushed through it. “I see one flaw in your creativity.”

“Oh?” He bit down on his plush lip, head tilted with curiosity. You hummed and nodded, daring to bring your fingers up his chest. His breath hitched in his chest, but he said nothing.

“I fear you don’t have the full picture. My tattoos are more than just a scribble of ink.” You stated matter of factly, making him breathe out a small laugh.

“Sorry. I work with what I have.” He shrugged his shoulders, trying to ignore the feeling of your hands itching up his chest.

“Maybe I should give you more to work with?” Your hands found the back of his neck and you instinctively stood on the ends of your toes, itching to get closer to him.

Eric glanced down at you, his eyes lingering on your own for a split second before glancing at your parted lips, soft breaths escaping you as you anxiously waited. He didn’t have to think about it, he didn’t want to. His mouth was on yours so hard you whined. His large hand found your hair, tilting your head back to meet your lips better. 

You weren’t sure when you ended up against the nearest wall, your legs wrapped around Eric’s slim waist as he held you up. You were right, he could hold you up like you were nothing. Truly, the oversized clothes you were forced to wear didn’t do him any justice. You wondered what he was hiding under his sweatshirt.

His lips were messy on yours, his heavy breaths joining your soft whimpers. You were so caught up in the delicious feeling of his mouth claiming yours and his hands touching everywhere he could, you didn’t hear the loud voices of guards calling your name and patient number. Reality dawned on you when you heard shouting down the hall for everyone to get out of their rooms. You patted Eric’s shoulder, forcing your lips away from his. 

“Eric—Eric.” You said his name with urgency, making him look at you, eyes filled with greed as he chased your lips. “I have to go. I don’t want to get you in trouble again.” 

He nodded after a second, setting you down on your feet after pressing one last kiss to your lips. You had a stupid smile on your face as you successfully sneaked out his room, the guards being distracted as they probably ransacked some poor bastard's room like they had done Eric’s. You glanced behind you as you hurried down the hall, catching a glimpse of Eric peeking his head through his door. He smiled. And it made your heart race.

You could not wait to see him again.

~~~~~~

“Eric!—” You slapped your hand over your mouth, attempting to quiet the desperate sounds leaving your mouth. But the way his tongue lapped at your sensitive clit and his long fingers rubbed against that one spot within your walls that had you squirming.

You didn’t mean to end up in this position, ass naked on top of one of the washing machines in the laundry room, with Eric on his knees and his face between your thighs. Truly you didn’t, you knew you would be in a lot of fucking trouble if you got caught. But the way his lips claimed yours, his tongue lacing with yours, his large hands grabbing at every part of your body like he didn’t know which one he craved to touch more. He just wanted you so fucking bad, your kisses and little rubbing here and there for the past few days wasn’t enough for him, or for you.

“I wanted to taste you so fucking bad.” He muttered against your clit, a groan rumbling in his throat when you pulled at the hairs on the back of his head, inadvertently holding his face closer against you. Not that he minded, he would stay here, with his fingers scissoring you open until you dripped on the surface underneath you. 

“Please—fuck. That feels so good.” You didn’t remember the last time someone made you feel this good. Not that you had much experience in this area, but this sure felt right.

Eric wrapped his free hand under your thigh, pulling you to the edge, closer to his mouth. He lapped at your pussy like he needed it, like it was the air in his lungs. The sounds leaving his mouth as your juices seeped around his fingers were almost as filthy as yours. 

You felt like such a slut, chasing his mouth with your hips, heaving like a bitch in heat, and quietly begging him to grant you your release, as quiet as you could be with his fingers so deep and his tongue drawing delicious circles around your clit. 

“Just like that baby… Just like that.” Eric mumbled, his fingers slipping and crooking against that perfect spot. 

Your release was so sudden, and it hit you so hard you were shaking, sobbing violently into your hand. Your head was thrown back, eyes rolled into the back of your head. Eric dug his fingers into your thigh, his tongue slipping into your hole when his fingers left you. 

“Shit—Eric—” You gasped, your thighs shaking as you weakly reached to grab his face. 

With a grunt he peeled himself from the warmth of your thighs, he stood to his full height before leaning down to capture your lips. The taste of yourself lingering on his tongue made you moan. Disoriented, you reached down to rub where his cock was straining against his sweatpants. He groaned into your mouth, his large hand flew to catch your wrist.

“It’s okay.” He gave your lips a soft kiss as he pulled your hand away. You gave him an adorable frown, your mind still spinning from your orgasm. 

“But you—” He pressed another kiss to your lips, shutting you up. He moved his lips to your neck, latching on to that one spot that had you whining. Neither of you cared if everyone saw the mark he left. 

“We’ll have time for that.” He mumbled against your skin. The way he slurred the words made your breath hitch. “Right?”

He pulled back to meet your eyes, blinking slowly as he waited for your response. You licked your lips softly, breath soft as you thought, how could he still question it. You were past the lusting. This was something else. You needed more of him, and it wasn't just sex you were craving. You wanted every part of him, even the parts of himself he didn’t want.

“Of course.. This isn’t.. Can’t you tell? What you do to me. I’ve never..” You couldn’t even form the right words, your mind still fuzzy with all these feelings you had no name for. You didn’t need to explain. Whatever it was, Eric felt the same. And he smiled, he genuinely smiled. And what a pretty sight that was.

“We should go.” He pressed his lips to the side of your head, smoothing down your hair and fixing your sweater. “Can you stand?”

You half nodded, gasping when he set you down on your feet and you instantly leaned on him for support. The sly smile on his face made you want to slap him. But deep down, you wanted to smile too.

~~~~~

The next time you saw Eric, he was walking down the hallway, his tall frame towering over the majority of people he walked past. He wasn’t hard to find. You bit your lip, unable to contain your excitement as you hurried after him. Your fingers brushed his, and almost as if he knew your touch by heart, he wasn’t startled, he didn’t flinch either. When he turned his head, his eyes grew big at the sight of you, the corners of his lips curving into a tiny smile. You flashed him a whole smile, unapologetic about how happy it made you to see him. Your obsession with him over the past two weeks wasn’t something you could explain, you knew it probably wasn’t healthy. But when were you ever known for having healthy coping mechanisms? You found something that filled you and you clung to it.

“Where are you going?” You asked him quietly as you walked beside him. He walked slower, but didn’t look at you much, as not to bring unwanted attention to yourselves.

“Laundry room.” He said quietly, his eyes dropping to meet yours. And you shared that knowing and malicious look. You couldn’t hide the smile on your lips. This time of day usually meant you could sneak off for a little while since most patients were having their once a week visitor, or phone call, which meant less guards were in every corner.

“I’m supposed to be out in two weeks.” You told Eric in between kisses, his lips trailed your jaw as his hands grabbed at your ass. 

“I’m out in four.” He answered as he pressed you against the nearest wall. He grabbed your face between his large hands, pulling you to meet his eager mouth. You whined, fists clenched around the front of his sweatshirt. You couldn’t go two weeks without seeing him, you would go fucking mad.

“I don’t want to wait a month to be with you.” You breathed out, your chest heavy as the words left your mouth. “I’m supposed to go back to my parents when I get out. They agreed to take me in to follow my treatment, but I don’t want to go. They’re the ones that put me here.” 

“I don’t have anywhere to go.” You barely heard him as he spoke, almost as if the words pained him, broke something deep inside him. It broke something in you, too.

“You can come with me. I have a little place and some money saved. It’s not much but.. If you want.. We could.. We could try something for real?” You trailed off, afraid he would reject you. It was one thing to mess around in here, where neither of you had anything else, anyone else to cling to, but this being anything other than a desperate bond by two lost souls was a different story. Outside of these walls, he could find anyone else, he didn’t have to keep the broken girl he fingered in a shitty laundry room.

“I would like that. I would like something real, with you.” His words were soft, as were his hands holding your face as he pressed his forehead against yours. You breathed out a laugh of relief. “Fuck this place. We’ll do it tomorrow, during shift change. There’s a vent up here that leads to the yard.”

You pulled him down by his sweatshirt, your lips crashing against his. He laced his fingers in your hair as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You welcomed it, lips parting as you locked your arms around his neck. 

“Eric.” You said his name softly in a quiet plea. He opened his eyes to find your desperate gaze. He told himself he wanted to be better, he knew you deserved better, but when you said his name like that, when you looked at him like that. He was no better. “I don’t think I can wait anymore. Please, I… I need…”

“Need what?” His words were coated with arousal, he knew fucking well what you meant. But he wanted to hear you say it.

“Fuck—” You kissed his lips roughly, any sanity and restraint you might’ve once had, completely. You can’t trust an addict to have good self-control, now could you? “Take me. I’m yours, just take me.”

“Fuck.” Now it was his turn to lose his sanity. He gave your lips one last kiss as he squeezed your cheeks between his fingers, licking your lips before he spun you around to face the wall. “You’re a sweet girl, don’t forget that. I swear I will fuck you properly on a bed, with flowers and shit.” 

His words were rough in your ear as he pressed his lips to your jaw, his hands making quick work of pulling down your sweatpants and panties. They pooled around your ankles as he kicked your legs open as far as they went.

“I like carnations.” You gasped as the cool air hit your exposed cunt. You heard him chuckle beside your ear.

“Those are pretty. They’re pretty like you.” He hummed as he brought two fingers up to your lips. You happily took them in your mouth. Eric almost moaned at the sight. One of these days he needed to have you sucking his cock. One of these days. 

Eric pulled his fingers from your lips and with a kiss to the back of your head, he sunk his coated fingers into your hole. Your mouth fell open, your forehead falling against the wall. You were instantly chasing his fingers, soft whimpers leaving your lips as you happily rode them. You didn’t know how he did it, how he could have you dripping around his fingers in a matter of a minute or two. You were clawing at the wall, silent moans spilling from you when he pulled his fingers from you. He watched almost proudly as your slick coated your thighs. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked quietly, tugging at the hem of your sweater. You made a humming sound, as best as you could. As if he needed to ask. Eric was happy to rid you of your sweater, more happy to find more hidden tattoos going all over both of your arms. He craved to find every single one of your tattoos, and kiss every one. But he knew it would be best to be quick.

His own sweatshirt met the same fate, and with a kiss to your cheek, he grabbed one of your hips as he pulled down his sweats enough to free his cock. A groan left his lips as he dragged his cock between your folds, coating himself in your slick. You gasped, not being able to see him, but already knowing he was big. 

“Let me know if it hurts, hm? I’ll take it easy, I promise.” He pressed his lips to your jaw, inhaling your sweet scent as he slowly sank himself into you. Only his tip was in and you could already feel the sting of his cock stretching you wide open.

“Fuck. Fuck, oh my god—” You squeezed your eyes shut, fingers clenching around nothing as he slowly filled your further, inch by inch.

“It’s okay. You want me to stop?” He asked, shushing you softly as he sat still, allowing you to adjust to the burning feeling of his size. Fuck, you should have known someone as tall as him would be this big. Somehow, it didn’t occur to you.

“No. ‘m okay. Keep going.” You reached behind you to touch him, your fingers gracing over the side of his face. He nodded into your neck, one of his hands sneaking to the front of you to play with your clit to ease you as he sank into you until his hips rutted against your ass. He sat still, speaking filthy words into your ear until you were whimpering, needing to feel more. “Eric, please.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. His pace was slow at first, slow strokes that allowed you to revel in the feeling of his cock in and out of your walls. But as you both began to grow desperate, pathetic sounds leaving your lips and groans of pleasure leaving him, his pace picked up. It was grueling, how he fucked you against that wall. You braced yourself with one hand, the other holding his face behind you as he leaned his head to capture your parted lips into a messy kiss. He swallowed your sweet sounds as the sting of his cock had you squeezing the life out of him.

“Fuck, I have been dreaming about this since I saw you. You always looked so pretty when you looked at me.” He whispered in your ear, his hand wrapping around your hair as he forced your head back, exposing your neck. You cried out, his roughness making you clench around him. He cursed, covering your mouth with his large hand. “I need you to keep it down for me, baby. You don’t want us to get caught, do you?” 

You shook your head, doing your best to contain the sounds he was pulling from you. His hand slowly left your mouth, trusting you could keep your sounds to a minimum. You bit down on your lip, eyes squeezed shut as his cock split you open. You swore you had never been this utterly fucked out, so cock drunk before. You had never needed anyone so badly. You had never felt so strongly about anyone. You had always found something to cling to, pain, tattoos, in your more miserable and recent years—drugs, and now him. But him? This feeling he gave you, it was like nothing you had ever felt before. You wanted to hold on to him until your final breath of air left your lungs.

“I wanted this—you—so fucking bad. I needed to have you.” Eric grunted, lips latching on to that spot on your neck where the previous hickey he had left was starting to fade. “I’m so crazy about you, no amount of rehab could fix me.” 

You moaned at his words, letting them sink in. He was down so bad for you, probably as much as you were. Two addicts, seeking refuge in each other, craving this adrenaline, it was a kick you had never felt before. It was a kick only lust and passion could bring. And he ignited that deep within your soul. 

“Me too.” You panted, lips parting in ecstasy as one of his tattooed hands loosely wrapped around your throat. Fuck, the way his whole hand covered your entire neck made you gush all over his cock. “I’ve never wanted anyone this bad. You—ah!—I need you all the fucking time.”

“Then you can have me,” His fingers squeezed your throat tighter, his thick cock so deep you swore you could feel him in your fucking cervix. “All the fucking time. Forever.” 

Tears filled your ears as you could feel your release near, your thighs shuddering as you felt your legs start to give out. Eric was quick to press you further against the wall, his back flush against your chest, sweaty forehead pressed against your cheek as his cock rutted against you, over and over, until you were chanting a string of uh-uh-uh’s, your mind too overcome with the pleasure he was giving you to even speak. 

“I want you to come on my cock so fucking bad. I need it.” Groans fell freely from his chest as he once again slipped a hand to your swollen clit. The pressure of his rough fingers made you gasp, your throat closing under his grip. Your release hit you so hard you were sobbing, though mostly muffled by his tight grip. Tears fell down your cheek as your orgasm left you a shaking mess. You had never felt this way before—so overcome with pleasure you cried.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. Good girl.” The hand on your throat left to wipe at your tears, soothing you as you came crashing down. 

Eric fucked you through your release, frantically chasing his own. His name left your lips with praise, sobs of your remnant pleasure as he pushed you to the point of overstimulation. But it wasn’t until he felt his own release near that he pulled out of you. Without saying a word, he grabbed one of your hands and wrapped it around his thick cock, his own hand guiding yours up and down his slick length, sweet praises leaving his lips until he was spilling himself. 

Heavy breaths and pants of exhaustion filled the small laundry room, the air smelled like sex, and the remnants of your forbidden times were left as evidence. Eric eventually spun you around to face him, a soft smile on his lips. You had only ever seen it once, after he ate you out days ago. It was rare to see Eric smile, but you made it a vow to yourself that you would always make him smile like this.

“How fucked up are we? Finding comfort in each other like this. Did it ever cross your mind?” You said softly as Eric helped you dress. He was bending down to grab your sweater and he stood up to his full height, towering over you, and his eyes were laced with an indescribable feeling.

“When I first saw you, I didn’t know what it was, but I was so drawn to you, I looked for you everyday, and I thought I would go mad if I didn’t have you. And right now, I can tell you it’s not just lust. I’m entranced by you, I need you all the time. And if there’s one thing I learned from this fucking place is that you have to latch on to something, otherwise you’ll drown.” 

You were speechless, nothing but your soft breaths could be heard. A smile fell on your lips and you leaned into his chest. Eric sighed softly, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, he’d be damn if he ever let you go anywhere but here.

“Addicts will be addicts, no matter how much they try to fix us. But it’s not always to drugs we’re addicted to.” You sighed softly, closing your eyes as you sank into the feeling of his arms. “This feeling? I never want it to stop.”

“It doesn’t have to.” He mumbled into your hair, in his head reminding himself of your limited time, but he refused to let you go just yet. “Forever, right?”

“Yeah, forever.”

[changeling-droneco]

Hi I'm that person who made the original post about "no doesn mean no" when a small bit of the mr beast company document was leaked, well, now we have the full document (thanks rosanna) so I'm going to go over it. Please note I am not a lawyer or a business man, I'm in college for psychology, so I might misunderstand some things or make the wrong conclusion. However, if this is a document made for the average mr. beast employee, if I cannot understand it properly, then im sure some employees also struggled

First of all, the opening paragraph. Like I get it's supposed to be like, to put people at ease, but

This is so strange? Like, first of all, this is your EMPLOYEE MANUAL, you should have run it through like, a spell check? Or had someone edit it? This is already incredibly unprofessional. Also the promising of a thousand dollars if you pass a quiz on it? It's bizarre and I'd love to see if it's an actual quiz.

Jimmy, hun, please god get an editor for this you're already trying my patience.

YOU SHOULD, you genuinely should, while interconnected these are all COMPLETELY different jobs, if you think you could write a separate manual for each branch you SHOULD

I'm sure I'm about to get an answer but what the fuck is the best YOUTUBE video then? If it's not comedy, its not production, its not quality, its not look, then what the hell is left? (monetization, it's monetization)

First of all, Jimmy, why are you using internet lingo in this, it's not a text message, this is not a place for, idc, and lol, and not capitalizing your headers correctly??? Also like I said, he's chasing trends for monetization, and also he's just wrong, there are plenty of hollywood level shows and the like on youtube. You fully admit you do not care about trends and actively rush things?

This is just fucked??? Like of COURSE IT MATTERS??? Results based company is bullshit, your employees that worked for five weeks and failed aren't "lesser" then James, it's a structural failure! They still worked for HOURS to try and succeed?? That shows merit and loyalty??? What the fuck???

Rosanna covers this one in her video but it's worth restating that this is FUCKED??? It's clear overwork "your job is your family" culture. Especially the use of the word obsessive? If you do not OBSESS over your work, you are considered poisonous. NO WONDER we have so many reports of employees doing things they feel is dangerous or unsafe, if they don't they're considered POISON to the company.

The formatting in this doc continues to fucking kill me, what are you DOING man GET AN EDITOR

This feels like such an easy fix of just...make the thumbnail after the fact? Or only make a rough draft of one first? Like if production makes a red bouncy castle instead of a yellow one, that feels like an easy fix to the thumbnail OR a communication error, and again, that's on management

A lot of the next stuff is like analytics stuff that for the most part I can't really speak on as someone who does not do any of this stuff. There are a few things though

Which like???? what??? a lull??? what do you mean "watching a video without even realizing they are watching a video??" That doesn't scream good or even mediocre content to me. If I'm actively tuning out as I watch a video, that's bad. Especially because there have been plenty of times I've been like half way through a video i go "hey this sucks actually" and click off. They actively want their audience to not be paying attention to the video so it runs all the way through, that's kinda pathetic.

I don't actually know if this is common or not in this industry, but as an outsider this seems INCREDIBLY micromanaging to me, to an immense degree.

Jimmy why are you putting swears in your employee manual?? sir??? and also something about this whole thing icks me out, I don't quite have the words but the whole emphasis on "im different im special no one else can be me" just reeks of something kind of manipulative

Why is production changing so much Jimmy??? Infinite growth is the mindset of a cancer cell Jimmy! This is incredibly unstable working conditions! Also again with the word obsession, if you take time out of your own day on your own time to watch hulu, that's seen as not being obsessed enough for the company. This is nonsensical!

Again, this is INSANELY micromanaging, and also so fucking unhinged??? "God himself couldn't stop you from making this video on time" is NOT a healthy work mindset, things HAPPEN!!!

In this segment he's actually talking normal things but I did just want to highlight his use of "freaken" who the hell puts that in an EMPLOYEE MANUEL

Again with the micromanaging, and the immense pressure on employees for problems OTHER people do. While he's not fully wrong that you should be in more contact with the contractor then the example, this is too much in the other direction. How much time in the day does he think people have?!

My kingdom for a fucking paragraph break dude, my fucking eyes. Also this is a lot of "im so great and do everything and you should do more for me and if i dont know something that's your fault" for something titled "I am not always right"

I'm getting lazy with my highlighting, but again, the micromanaging? If you're SOOO busy, the first question should be the ideal? it's quick and makes a quick decision, while the second one meanders and meanders

Again, Jimmy is pushing blame for HIS mistakes on OTHER PEOPLE. For again, a section called "i am not always right" hes taking NO accountability for that and just making the SAME excuses he's berating in other places.

I can't even tell what he means here AN EDITOR JIMMY

Autism Hell tm, PLEASE email me so I can DOUBLE CHECK IT, things in writing are SO useful

Again the language towards "C-Players" which as mr beast has said, are the people who y'know, are NORMAL employees who DON'T live and breathe this company

Okay first of all, a Lamborghini is like 300k so that's already A REALLY hard task, and i sure hope don't usually put typos in the tasks. SECOND of all the fact he thinks its okay to go "hey if the studio is literally on fire around you and you stop working to get the Lamborghini, you're not doing good enough" even if he claims it as a joke is NOT OKAY what the FUCK

We've covered this before, but to reiterate this segment is named after a sexual assault reference when it could have been named ANYTHING ELSE and harasses employees and pressures them to break rules, don't do that.

I'm not an editor, so maybe this is normal, but as someone from the outside it seems strange to put this much emphasis on dividing focus between so many videos at once.

Jimmy, hun, are you paying extra for this? Because if I'm an editor and you want me FILMING stuff then i want to be paid more for doing TWO jobs and I probably still wont be as skilled a TRAINED CAMERA MAN

First of all now THAT'S a type, consteatants. Also the fact they are aware that leaving contestants out in the sun is bad, why are you not doing MORE TO STOP IT BEYOND "hey maybe giving them three hours of heatstroke is bad, try only two next time"

Don't we love favoritism, more shitty unprofessional writings, and a completely unstable work environment?

If your people have to pull all nighters period something is wrong, and if something happens to an employees car that could have seriously hurt someone, i sure hope you care more then just "LOL FUNNY" Who's picking up the broken glass? Who's reimbursing the car owner? That one meme of "your first care should be commitment to the bit" is a MEME jimmy, it's not ACTUAL ADVICE

Ah shit I hit image limit, well, you've seen enough screenshots to know these are screenshots, we're almost done I'll put them in as quotes

"Let’s say you are tasked with finding us a castle to live in for 50 hours and while doing research you find a castle and a number to call for the owner. So you do call, and he answers. Only problem is he says he quit the castle renting business to pursue his dream of building a 100 foot tall lego catapult. You can obviously tell where i’m going with this. Ideally you’d recognize that’s badass as fuck and try to convince him to let us use it when we do find a castle. This is a bad example because it’s so obvious but if you’re doing your job right you will be doing an absurd amounts of calls and data collecting. While trying to complete your prios and prepare for the video you should always be on the lookout for new things you can bring to your creative team to inspire them. Because just like me, they don’t know what they don’t know and you can’t just say “i’m in production and i’m not very creative” because that’s literally the equivalent of saying I suck at what I do. You also need to apply this same mindset when problem solving because many people lose sight of this stuff when in the weeds. If a problem appears, always always always ask yourself if your new plan is whats best for creative, not just the easiest bandaid."

First of all it's really funny seeing all the red lines pop up, second of all this insistent blurring of everyone's job seems so strange? Again maybe this is normal, but it really feels like Jimmy wants everyone working every job, instead on focusing on what they are actually hired to do.

"What is the goal of our content?

To excite me. The goal of our content is to excite me. That may sound weird to some of you, especially if you’re new but to me it’s what’s most important. If I'm not excited to get in front of that camera and film the video, it’s just simply not going to happen."

That's fucking weirddddd, like I get that he's trying to be like "im authentic" but it always feels like a bad sign when the goal of a company is literally just "What amuses the boss" like...bad sign

"this is youtube and there are constraints. You know the video can’t be a minute so you’re obviously going to need a story to hold the viewers and there are rules to storytelling. Our audience is massive and because of that you have to be simple, for 50 million people to understand something it must be simple. Content can be anything but there is structure and rules that we must mold it into that I want to teach you about, because virality doesn’t just happen. Every frame of our videos will be seen by 10s of millions of people"

Gross

"I'd say the average MrBeast viewer is a teenage memer that likes video games."

Mr Beast is completely aware of his demographic and puts screen shots of it, he is very aware his stuff is aimed at kids, even when its about gambling or hiring people not around near minors

"I feel silly for having to write this but all the time I talk to 32 new people that have at most seen like 5 or 6 of our videos and it’s mind blowing that they don’t see a problem with that lol."

It's almost like your audience is teenage memer and that people who working here are not in fact, teenage memers.

"What you consume on social media, when you watch youtube, tv, the games you play, etc. are what I like to call your information diet.

How do you stay up to date on the latest memes? How do you know what’s going on with celebrities? What’s trending on youtube? What other creators are doing? What’s popping on tik tok? Your information diet. Consume things on a daily basis that help you write better content."

If my job as a creative writer had my boss tell me to have to see whats "popping on tik tok" as part of my job i'd quit also again, the micromanaging of someone's life as well pops up again, it's weirddd

"It’s okay for the boys to be childish

If talent wants to draw a dick on the white board in the video or do something stupid, let them. (assuming they know all the risks and arn’t missing context on why it’s not safe) People like when we are in our natural element of stupidity. Really do everything you can to empower the boys when filming and help them make content. Help them be idiots"

More favoritism

"If you’ve made it this far you are probably at least semi interested in this being your career. So I wanted to chat about it. Because if you're ambitious and want to dedicate your life to work, you picked the best company in America to do it at. I really don’t care to hoard a bunch of money and I deeply believe in rewarding the people that help this business get where it needs to be. But before I get into that, let’s talk about the future. As I write this we have 2 teams, that will grow to 4 in the next year. (and possibly 8 in the next 2 years but I can’t talk about that cause james will kill me haha). We need more leaders in the company. Weneed hard working, obsessive, coachable, intelligent, grinders that can step up and take some of these leadership spots over the next 2 years. Every single department has an opportunity for you to grow in and you’re in luck because we don’t do yearly reviews. We do whenever the fuck you want reviewes"

Lack of communication from management, and more emphasis on grinding and crunch culture, goodie, all while riddled with typos! God.

"I see a world where this company is worth billions and one day 10s of billions. And those of you that help build this will be rewarded. I want nothing more then for you to go all in, obsessive all day everyday, and become so god dam valuable this company can’t operate without you. And in return for becoming so valuable I hope to give you incredible experiences, a fun place to work, and of course, more money then you could ever dream of making at any other company."

I feel like I'm reading a fucking pyramid scheme document here, "youre so so valuable spend literally every minute of every day on this company haha" good GOD man

[seventeenpins]

new rules

pairing: ex!Worst!Logan Howlett x f!reader word count: 2.7k summary: You've been broken up for long enough. It shouldn't be this hard to stay away. content/warnings: smut, angst, Logan's a disaster alcoholic, suicidal ideation, unhealthy relationships, big dick a/n: I didn't expect the Logan bug to bite me, but here I am, horny for this old man, writing a songfic in the year of our lord two thousand twenty four. Dua Lipa's "New Rules" came on shuffle and I needed to make it about our big boy. Thank you to the loml @ozarkthedog for being the best human alive and also for hyping me up, reading it thru, and telling me "it made me actually want to try to fix him" 😅

You’re in your pajamas, toothbrush in hand and moisturizer shining on your face, when the screen of your phone lights up. You wince when you see the contact name.

DO NOT PICK UP

You watch as it rings out, and you exhale when the comfort of the black screen returns.

And then it lights up again.

Just ignore it. Just ignore it.

As you’re spitting your toothpaste into the sink, the screen lights up again, DO NOT PICK UP flashing across.

It’s a bad idea. It’s always a bad idea. 

But as it lights up a fourth time, you hit accept. As you bring the phone to your ear, you already know what you’re going to say; you need to stop calling like this; have you been drinking?; this isn’t going to happen again–

And then you hear his voice. It’s just a single word, and comes out more as a croak than anything else.

“Hi, baby-”

Just like the first time. The third. The five hundredth. It makes you fucking melt, makes your body heat and your stomach flip.

“Hi Logan.”

—

“It’s been too long, sweetheart-” 

“Yeah, well-” you sigh. You know how this always goes. “I told you not to call.”

“But you answered.” 

Even over the line he sounds smug. You wish you could punch him, god, if only. But you knew from past experience that his adamantium bones and entirely unfair regenerative powers would leave him perfectly unblemished, while you nursed a broken hand.

“Sooo-,” you venture, “Is there something you need?”

It was better to play clueless, you reasoned; You weren’t gonna jump the gun. You would make him spell it out.

"Just you, hon,” his voice is low and dangerous and you think you might really hate him this time.

“You know it’s nearly midnight, don’t you? Are you ever gonna call me when you’re sober?”

You hear a noncommittal grunt on the other end.

“What do you want, Logan?”

He takes a deep breath.

“Can I come over? I’ve just been missing you. Been a rough day.”

“No.”

“Please, baby? I need you. Please?”

You close your eyes and exhale. Ten calls ago, you might have tried to hide the frustration, but you’re well beyond that now.

It’s always a bad idea. Always makes you remember the bits of him you miss desperately. Your nights together. How you still fucking love him.

“Can take care of you, princess-“ he pleads.

“I hate when you call me that. And no, you can’t. You can’t even take care of yourself, Howlett.”

He huffs a laugh. “Been doin’ alright a couple hundred years. Keepin’ myself alive.”

You don’t want to say the question neither of you will acknowledge.

Is this really living?

“Fine. You can come over.”

“I’ll be there in five.”

“Motherfucker-! Have you been on your way this whole time, Lo?”

With a snort, he ends the call.

He’s on you before you can even get the door closed behind you. His hands are cradling your head as he kisses you deeply. You were right; he tastes like cheap whiskey. And cigarettes, you realize. Fucking cigarettes. And then you remember– he’s all but abandoned his cigars, as though the pain of losing a vice was part of his penance. 

With an awkward foot you try to hook the bridge of your foot along the edge of the door, pull at it, but instead of closing it you just overbalance, tumbling further into him.

He catches you as if it was nothing, as if he were so innately steady he’d always be there to break your fall.

When he has you back on your feet, he gets right back to it, tearing at your clothing and his, pulling your top over your head, fumbling with the drawstring of your bottoms. He cups your breasts, pinching and teasing, and walks you backwards till the backs of your knees hit the foot of your bed and you tumble. 

Logan tumbles with you, his hold on you never ceasing, and now you can feel how hard he is against you.

It sends a shiver down your spine.

You’ve missed this. Fuck you’ve missed this. What kind of self-destructive dumbass judgment were you letting rule you? 

You need to gain some control back.

“Condom,” you tell him. 

He rolls his eyes.

“I’m not joking, Logan. Should still be in the top drawer.”

He exhales with a chuckle, but pulls his beater over his head and lets you get an eyeful of his toned chest before leaning over and sliding the drawer open.

Then, he rummages around, pulling back with a shit-eating grin. 

In his hand is a roll of condoms, classic fit.

“You got a little boyfriend?” he asks, and you feel your face heat.

“Shut the fuck up, Logan.”

“Now I’m not seeing the Magnum’s in here. You sure you still have them? Or are you so busy fucking dumbass boys with little pricks that you can’t even bother to pick up the phone?”

“The condoms are just in case– better to be prepared– and besides it’s none of your fucking business if I’m sleeping with anyone else!”

“You know I can’t get STIs, right?”

You do know. You remember that first conversation years ago. You grit your teeth.

“And if you’re so worried,” he continues, “I’ll buy you Plan B.”

“Move,” you tell him, and he scoots back so you can look in the drawer yourself. Much to your chagrin, he’s right. Not a single gold packet in sight.

You groan, and he laughs.

You should tell him no. Should tell him that if he wants to fuck you, he needs to go out and get some. Because it’s not even the risk of any sort of transmission, or even the risk of pregnancy that gives you pause. It’s the intimacy. The way you can hardly bear it when you can feel him dripping out of you. The love you still have for him, even after everything. 

The way you know he still needs you, too. More than you need him. But after everything he’s done, everything he’s been through, everything he’s lost– you can’t bear to be another thing he loses, not fully.

But now he’s straddling you, scooting you backwards towards the head of the bed. His cock presses heavy against your thigh, and you’re so overwhelmed by the way he’s pressing kisses along your jaw and nibbling behind your ear, you barely notice as he lifts your hips to pull your panties down. His nails scrape down your back and the angry scratches start to bloom with heat. 

You don’t realize you’re both fully naked until you feel the heat from him press against you, the slick of his weeping cockhead dragging a trail just below your navel, down down down-

He strokes himself twice and lines himself up, pressing against your opening. You wait for the feeling, for the way he always slams inside you, but he surprises you. Presses the tip in and rocks himself gently, easing you open.

After a moment (and hardly a single inch) he pulls out and sits up.

For a gut-wrenching second, you think he’s changed his mind, and how fucking dare him? He’s not the one who gets to back out of this. Fuck.

But then his cock is replaced with his hand, and he pumps himself with his left, while pressing inside of you with his right, scissoring his fingers open, pulling whine and moan and gasp out of you, coaxing you along with his filthy mouth the whole way.

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs, letting out a groan when you squirm against him, “You’re tight as the first time I fucked you. Clearly no one’s been takin’ care of this pussy, huh?”

Two fingers become three, and you’re overwhelmed with sensation, pleasure taking over any rational thought.

“That’s it, honey, open up for me. Such a shame no one’s been fuckin’ you right. Would make you feel good every damn day if you’d let me.”

He rubs against your clit in unyielding circles and pulls you right to the edge. You feel yourself dripping, thighs trembling, and tears rolling down your face, but just as you’re about to cum he stops. He guides your arms upwards and pins you down by the wrists with one rough hand and leans over, caging you against the bed. In a second beat, he knocks your legs wide, baring you fully, and he presses himself in. You’re beyond slick and the glide is exquisite. The feeling of his bare cock pressing into you makes you shudder with arousal. The wiry hairs at the base of his cock grind against you, making you shake. 

He fucks you deep and slow. The drag is exquisite. He pulls almost the whole way out, before rocking back in again, his foreskin adding to the delicious glide. With every thrust he’s burying himself so deeply you’d swear you could feel him in your belly.

“You’re openin’ up so nice, takin’ it so good,” he growls, and you feel a thrill of pleasure bloom through your body at the praise. “Been missin’ this. Miss how soft you feel around me. Have you been missin’ your old man, too?”

You don’t even register he’s asked a question till his palm is swatting your jaw. It’s not painful, it doesn’t even sting. And it does exactly what he’d hoped; it refocuses you on him.

“Wha- What?” you ask, coming back to him, whilst feeling your peak build and build and build-

“Have you been missin’ your old man, princess? 

“Fuck you, Logan.”

“Use your words.”

“Yes-”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes I’ve been missing you. Stop looking at me like that, Lo. C’mon now, fuck me like you mean it.”

You can’t deal with him being sincere right now. You need it rough and you need it mean.

It takes him a moment to pull himself away but then he does, obliging as if he can read your thoughts. He pulls out, leans back, hooks your legs over his shoulders, and makes you moan as he folds you in half. He’s pressing so much deeper now than he had only a moment ago. Any gentleness that had been there disappears immediately.

He’s panting, letting out heavy grunts as he slams into you and sweat drips down his temple. 

As he fucks you, he drives into you cruelly but you match each thrust. Every time he knocks you back, you press against him harder and heavier. Make sure it hurts, for both of you.

He’s never been a selfish lover and makes you scream on his cock, cumming three times in rapid succession, each peak that little bit higher. Each peak is a little bit harder. 

You’re boneless and spent. When he cums inside you, his claws shoot out, angrily splintering existing notches on your headboard. Blood trickles down between his knuckles. One drop lands on your lips, the perfect kiss from this mess of a man. Another drop lands on your new linen pillowcase.

At least you got those tide pens. 

You want to tell him off about the headboard–the splintered edges are ugly and ragged. But the fact you hadn’t gotten a new headboard is kind of on you. It may as well be an invitation.

You add a note to your shopping list. Plan B.

—-

You wake up alone in a dark room. The first thing you see is your bedside alarm clock, red blinking numbers telling you it’s 3:12 AM. Then, you hear a rustling in your living room.

You step out to investigate, bleary-eyed, to find Logan silhouetted in front of your liquor cabinet, bottle of amber liquid in hand. He raises the bottle and takes a swig.

Back to this-

"Go home, Logan.” You tell him, and he startles at your voice.

"Baby- I been havin’ bad dreams-” 

You cut him off. "I’ll call you a cab. You’re not staying here, trying to drink yourself to death on my sofa-”

"Sweetheart,” he cuts in, “You know it never sticks-“ 

He says it with a grin like it means nothing, and it’s mean. Makes your stomach flip.

This is the closest either of you had ever gotten to the depths of it all. You’d both been pretending for so long.

You leave the room.

A minute later, you’re back, and Logan has emptied the bottle.

"Get dressed.” You toss his shirt at him. It smacks him in the face and falls unceremoniously to the floor. “Cab’s on its way. You owe me for the whiskey.”

He nods. His movement is loose, and you can see the booze is finally affecting him. More than just making him gutsy, it’s making him sloppy. Every movement is sluggish as he redresses.

"You wanna know why?” He asks, and it comes out slurred.

You ignore him. “I’ll walk you down. Get home safe, okay?”

He nods again. Looks like he’s trying to put on a show to prove just how sincere he is.

You kick his shoes towards him, and help him with his jacket when he struggles.

A horn honks outside, and you both look to the window. When you turn your head back, though, he’s only inches away from you, whiskey-breath across your cheek, and a wearier frown than he’s ever let you see before.

"When I drink I don’t dream-,“ he tells you, “Claws don’t come out.”

Then he kisses you on the cheek, turns on his heel with an unsteady sway, and leaves your home.

You struggle for hours to fall back asleep, the bed suddenly much too big.

You ignore his calls for a week. They come through later and later. Nine PM, ten. Midnight. Two.

And then one night you get a text. 

He’s rarely one for texting, so to see the notification makes your heart speed up and your stomach flip.

DO NOT PICK UP - Attachment: 1 Video

With a single, hesitant tap, you open it.

You’re not sure what you expected. Something dramatic, maybe? Something miserable? You hope to god he’s not figured out some way to make himself an adamantium bullet. It’s a fear that’s bounced around in your head for a while now, but you’d never ask just in case he hasn’t thought of it yet himself.

Whatever it is, though, it has to be something that will make your heart ache and your head spin and–

It’s anticlimactic. Kind of.

It’s just a video of him, phone angled to show him in his steamed-up mirror.

There are dark shadows beneath his red-rimmed eyes, but besides that, he looks as perfect as ever. You can’t see below his hips, but you know Logan and you know he’s fully naked. His body hair is slick, his skin glowing from being freshly showered.

This fucking asshole knows exactly how to get you.

You hit play. 

At first, you can barely tell it’s a video. And then you see the way his arm is moving. He’s holding his phone with one hand, his other casually stroking himself just below the frame of the video.

“You gonna stop ignoring me?” he asks, his voice a throaty purr. “Quit playing games. Get your ass over here and let me take care of you.”

AND, you realize with a twinge, you text with him so rarely, you never turned off read receipts.

Three dots appear and you know that he knows you’ve seen it. 

A moment later, the text comes through.

“Ready for you, princess.”

God, if only it would take more than that.

As if overtaken by a horny ghost, you’re already slipping your panties off and putting on your favorite skirt. 

You’re at his house an hour later. 

You let him guide you. Taste you. Fuck you. Fight with you. 

You let him devour you, and let yourself fall in with him, in with the guilt and the anger and the hate and self-pity.

And fuck, it’s the love, too. It never went away.

[teapot-of-tyrahn]

hello !!! i'm ...

➟ sugar !! i also go by charlie , echo , scott , timmy -- call me whatever's more comfortable for u !!

➟ i'm genderfluid, asexual and biromantic + greyromantic !!1

➟ my CURRENT hyperfixations are on NINJAGO and the TRAFFIC LIFE SERIES !! if you're seeing THIS pinned introduction, NINJAGO is currently the MAIN brainrot !

➟ i am a 🚸 MINOR ⚠️ !! please interact with this in mind !!!

➟ i have GAD [ generalized anxiety disorder ] , separation anxiety disorder , social anxiety disorder , selective mutism , depression , DPD [dependent personality disorder] ARFID [ avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder ] , and involuntary age regression ! though these topics probably won't be discussed at length , please keep them in mind when interacting with me !! at times i may go NON-VERBAL or slip into LITTESPACE , and i ask you be patient with me at those times, thank you !

➟ this is a FANDOM SIDEBLOG - my main blog is @sugrx !! i make FANFICTION , FANART , ANALYSISES , AUS , USERBOXES ,,, etc !!

➟ basic ! queerphobes, xenophobes, misognists, ableists, racists, terfs, maps, pedos, fatphobes, etc - any and all bigots of ANY shape or form !!

➟ nsfw / fetish / kink blogs !! again , i am a MINOR , and though i'm fine with having mutuals who ARE 18+ , i'd rather avoid 18+ content , thank you !!

[mysicklove]

𝐅𝐈𝐗 𝐌𝐄

DAY 2: SUB SPACE + MOMMY KINK

With: Satoru Gojo

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Sub! Gojo, Fem? reader (no pronouns just use of names: mommy and mama), unreleastic portrayal of sub space, mentions of BDSM (rough treatment, degradation,whips, mistress/master use), safeword use (at the end), lots of cooing, Gojo unable to think properly, praise, comfort, clingy/needy Gojo

A/N: this was actually really fun to write! i did a little research on what subspace feels like, and it says it varies from person to person, but it is a sort of euphoric experience. sooo idk! lol. also, a lot of ppl r here for gojos personality, and I feel bad bc he is not like his usual self in this bc of his headspace...dont hate me gojo simps

Gojo Satoru is kinky. Plain and simple. He has tried many different things throughout his lifetime, and he is now confident enough in many different types of sexual play. He spends way too much time on the internet buying all sorts of toys, cuffs, ropes, whips, just to build his secret obsession. He has been with many people, and has always pulled them down to the dark side with him. 

But through it all, he has never found a partner to really push him to his limits. They all get too scared to hurt him, and call their safeword too early. They get uncomfortable when he sobs for mercy, or in other situations, begs for more pain. Gojo doesn't want to be just treated harshly, he wants to be broken. His standards are higher than most.

And finally his dreams came true when he met you. You've been into BDSM for years now, and even if the two of you are dating, you have a strict contract of rules you must obey for eachothers safety. It was cute, he was practically trembling in excitement when he saw the agreement, signing his hame sloppily, and waiting for your next move.

It was strange seeing someone so cheery and upbeat turn into a different breed during a scene. He was long passed the brat now, every defining thought fucked out of him. He's been slapped around, beaten, scolded, forced to orgasm, and humiliated in the past two hours. He has never had anyone treat him this rough. 

A huge part of him loved it, and a small part of him twinged in fear whenever he heard you begin to move again. It sent a multitude of thoughts to his brain, What now? Are you going to hurt him? Was he being good now? Another punishment? 

His blue eyes follow your every movement, and he flinches when you bring your hand up to his face, expecting another slap. You chuckle at the movement, gently petting his face. It takes him a second to realize what is happening, but from there, he melts into your hold. He presses himself deeper into your hand, eyes heavy from exhaustion.

Satoru accomplished his goal though. He was, for the first time ever, wrecked. His hair is matted against his head, damp from sweat. His body is covered in hickeys, bitemarks, bruises, scratches, and marks from the flogger. He was trembling, muscles contracting every couple of seconds without permission. Drools coats his lips, and it starts to drip down his mouth and onto his chin. His eyes seem to be in a different world, cloudy, and half lidded. His cock lays spent against his thigh, flushed red, and leaking just the last of his cum.

But even through it all, he's smiling at you. It’s a fucked out sort of grin, lazy, but content. His cheek is pressed against your palm, and he's nuzzling into it, basking in the softness of your touch, contrasting your earlier actions. “There ya go. You doing all right, Satoru?”

He blinks at you, slow, and thoughtless. “Yeah.”

You climb onto the bed next to him, brushing his hair back affectionately, and a little worriedly. He looked rather beat, and his exhausted eyes made you want to end the session now. “Alright, lets clean you up, and get you to bed,” You soothe, hands rubbing at his thighs, hoping your touch brings him comfort.

Immediately he pulls away, a small pout on his face. “Noooooo,” He uncharacteristically whines, grabbing at your hand. “Wanna…Wanna go some more. I'm doing good, right Mommy? No more punishments,” He pleads, tears coating his eyes. “Reward. Wanna reward, pleaseeee.”

Mommy wasn't todays title. You were called mistress, and master today solely. His words made your eyes widen, and you instantaneously knew he was deep into the subspace. You've seen glimpses of it, the way he becomes uncharacteristically obedient and he gets slightly giggly, probably from the light headed feeling, but he looked deep into his now. His words dragged out, and his body was obviously spent, but still he craved your approval; he wanted nothing more than to please you now. 

Affection, love and care is what he needs right now and you were happy to provide him with it. So, you straddle his lap, and place kisses on every surface you can touch. His body is warm, and he goes slack against your hold, mouth falling open. “Do you want to cum again, ‘toru? Or just attention?”

He goes silent for awhile, his mind hazy, and not liking the idea of making his own choice. He wanted you to take care of him completely, to let his mind slip away, and for you to control his ever thought, movement. “Please,” He mumbles, face scrunching up with frustration.

You are quick to apologize, recognizing his situation almost instantly. “Alright, alright. I'll take care of you. Lets cum one more time, can you do that for me, pretty boy?”

Pretty boy. A nickname unlike the harsh ones he received earlier: brat, slut, dog, whore. In the moment it only increased to turn him on, but now, he wanted to be good. The thought of you calling him those names made him want to tear up, and sob into your arms. He didn't want you to be mean anymore, he wants you to love him. To praise him on anything and everything. 

He jumps when he feels your hand drift back to his cock. It aches from all the abuse from earlier, and he lets out a shaky whimper, not liking the pain as much as he once did. “H-Hurts,” He yelps, wishing for you to make it better. To fix it all, why did everything ache so badly? He wants comfort, and as quickly as possible.

You kiss at his tears and pull his face into your neck. “‘m sorry. Was Mommy too rough with you today? Shhh, it’ll feel better in a bit, just relax,” You encourage, beginning to slide your hand up and down his length. He twitches and mewls from beneath you, fighting the feeling of overstimulation and pleasure. He wants this, he wants this, he wants this so badly, but he wishes it wasn't so uncomfortable.

He shakes his head into your neck, “Wasn't too rough. I'm fine, Mama j-just make me feel better, please,” he whispers, voice hoarse, and soft. One of your hands pet his hair, while the other strokes him off, shushing his cries, and reassuring that he will feel better soon.

You were right of course, the pain of overstimulation died off, and Gojo felt like he was melting. Everything is so warm, so light, he feels like he was on cloud nine. He feels loved, and every loose thought was traced back to you. “Love you s-so much.”

You grin at him, pressing your lips to his. His lips are chapped from his excessive panting, but you don't mind, licking at the plush flesh. He whimpers and groans, his hands pawing at you to pull you impossibly closer. When you pull back, he follows you, letting out a small huff in complaint. You pepper his face with kisses in apology. “Love you too. Such a good boy, Satoru, I'm so lucky to have such a pretty boy.”

He withers under the praise, nodding his head dumbly. He wants to coax so more out of you, but he can't think of ways, so he just rest his head on your chest, and chants, “Mommy” on repeat. 

Your hand is slow in pace, careful to not overwhelm him. It slides up and down easily, his previous cum acting as lube. His cock is bright red, and you almost feel bad for it after pulling so many orgasms from it earlier. You are suprised he is still even awake, sure, he looks and acts exhausted, but by this long he is usually passed out. He must be awake only because he is searching for praise and comfort from earlier. To not find himself in a sub drop.

You catch his eye, and a wobbly smile pulls at his face. You chuckle at him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Whaddya want from me?” He asks, voice cracking in the middle of the sentence.

“Hmm?”

He taps his forehead against yours, hazy blue eyes staring into yours. “Wanna command. Wanna be useful for you.” 

You smile warmly at him and he shivers, leaning up to kiss you again. You hand rubs over his small slit, and he gasps, pausing just centimeteres before you face, and moaning out. 

“You are deep in this, aren't you sweet boy?” You murmur, mostly to your self, slightly astonished. It was one thing for him to ask for praise, and to make decisions for him, but actively seeking instructions from you was another. It was fascinating, and adorable to say the least, how desperately he craved approval, or wanted to feel needed, useful. Nothing how Gojo usually was like.

You thumb at his tip, and he heaves, trying to keep up with your words. But everything you say other than “sweet boy,” seems to tuned out. Everything feels blurry, expect for you face, and your sickenly sweet tone. “D-Don't understand. Please!”

“Okay, shhh, it's alright. I want you to cum for me. Can you cum for Mommy, Satoru? That's all I want you to do.” An easy command, one he can definitely fulfill. He can do that – he can definitely cum for you. Gojo feels his chest bloom with butterflies at the idea of what you'll say to him once he follows your wishes. How much praise he will receive. How good and useful he is being. It makes him shiver with excitement.

Your hand picks up speed when he nods, and he gasps, gripping onto your arms from the suddenness. His hips buck upward into the makeshift hole, and you coo at him, telling him to relax his hips. He abides without question, melting into the sheets, and you give him a kiss for a reward. 

He feels himself begin to teeter along his high, and he glances up at you, eyes wide and slightly panicked. He needs to ask for approval, he has to ask to cum, the rules were basically engrained in him, but everything is spinning, and he's beginning to feel overwhelmed by the intensity of the pressure. He feels his voice go dry, and tears begin to pool in his eyes at the prospect of disappointing you.

You take notice of his fearful face immediately, quickly leaning over to cup his face. “You can cum. Relax, hey, its alright, I want you to cum.”

He breathes a shaky sign of relief, and you wipe his tears away, thinking back to earlier of how you wiped his tears away from the ruthless pleasure/pain mix, and now simply because he was afraid that he wasn't able to ask permission before cumming. You would be lying if the power didnt get to your head.

You thoughts are cut off when Gojos entire body jerks, and a muffled, “Fuck!” is let out. His orgasm hits him like a truck, and he trembles, riding the waves. His voice is too scratchy to let out any real noise, so he just silently cries into your chest. Cum dribbles down his cock pathetically, obviously spent, and not having much left to give. You don't seem to notice it though, instead focusing on your lover, and trying to make his orgasm as pleasurable as possible.

When he comes down from it, his legs are shaking, and his eyes are hooded with exhaustion. “P-Plea–Coconut,” He weakly gets out, and you hands fly off his body in seconds from hearing the safety word. You pull away, hoping to not overwhelm him, but instead he clings to you. “Don’t go. Don’t go. Mommy, I can't. J-Just–I…Praise!” He splutters, coherent thoughts flying out of his head, as he slumps into the bed.

You nod, staying away from his cock, and instead placing his head into your lap. His body curls around you in seconds, still slightly trembling. “Did so well. Good boy Satoru. My good boy, I am so spoiled. So lucky to have you." You coo, reaching your hand up to run it through his matted hair. "Took everything so well. I'm so proud of you." A small smile pulls at his face, and everything feels so warm "I love you so much, you know that?”

“Hm,” He hums, nodding his head slightly.

You smile at him. “My perfect boy. It's time to go to sleep, I'll take care of everything. Just rest for me, that's all I need you to do.”

But he didn't even hear the last of your statements, already passed out onto you, his chest rising and falling from his heavy breathes.

You sigh, and stare affectionately at the man. His naked body littered in marks, and he still managed to sleep contently with them. His body was drained of everything. Just like he asked you to do so hours prior.

Your hands roam the nightstand, grabbing healing cream, bandages, and a wash cloth. And with one last sigh, you place Gojo's head onto the pillow, and begin the long process of cleaning him up.

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[liquidstar]

look this site really is awful for ppl with OCD so i just wanna reassure anyone that you are not Tainted Forever for consuming a piece of media with questionable content. the fact that youre able to recognize it speaks to your critical thinking skills, which is good, certain depictions should be critiqued. but you dont need to ruminate on it to the point where you begin to feel guilty for simply witnessing gross or creepy writing choices. you dont have to vindicate yourself to the fictional tumblr discourser inside your head, saying that youre now a bad person bc you watched the wrong anime. your actual response to it still matters of course, but thats that and this is this. just seeing it is neutral, you didnt commit a thought crime. its literally fine.

IF YOU ARE USING THIS POST TO ONLY FURTHER YOUR STUPID PEDANTIC BLACK-AND-WHITE DISCOURSE TO GET A "GOCHA" OVER THE OTHER SIDE YOU ARE THE PROBLEM. DON'T USE OUR DISORDER TO VINDICATE YOUR BEHAVIOR. THOUGHT CRIMES ARENT REAL BUT ACTIONS STILL MATTER. PEOPLE WITH OCD ARE CAPABLE OF THINKING CRITICALLY ABOUT OUR ACTIONS AND RESPONSES, EVEN WITH INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS AND RUMINATIONS. TREATING US AS IF WE CANNOT, ONLY TO FORCE US TO USE YOUR STRINGENT UNNUANCED DISCOURSE OPINIONS ABOUT "PURITY CULTURE" (TRIGGERING TO THOSE WITH OCD) AS THE ONLY REASONABLE GUIDE DOES MORE TO EXACERBATE OUR OBSESSIONS THAN HELP US. YOU ARE THE ISSUE AS WELL. YOU ARE ALSO THE TUMBLR DISCOURSER INSIDE OUR HEADS. DO NOT USE US FOR YOUR DISCOURSE. WE ARE PEOPLE, NOT HYPOTHETICALS TO USE TO EXPLAIN IF YOUR FROZEN INCEST FANFICTION IS OKAY OR NOT. TREATING US AS IF WE CANNOT AUTONOMOUSLY HAVE OUR OWN OPINIONS ON WHEN MEDIA IS TANGIBLY HARMFUL IS ABLEIST. FORCING US TO ABIDE BY YOUR IN-GROUP'S SET OF UNEQUIVOCAL MORALS IS ABLEIST. ACTING AS THOUGH THE ONLY SOLUTION FOR US IS MINDLESS MEDIA CONSUMPTION IN WHICH "EVERY DEPICTION OF XYZ, NO MATTER HOW POORLY DONE OR EXPLOITATIVE, IS ALWAYS OKAY AND IF YOU DISAGREE YOURE ACTUALLY AN EVIL 'ANTI'" IS ABLEIST. THOSE ARE THE SAME BLACK-AND-WHITE MORALS THAT SEND US INTO OBSESSIVE SPIKES, BUT FLIPPED. A SET OF MORALS IN WHICH QUESTIONING THE IMPACT OF A PIECE OF WORK MAKES YOU AN "EVIL CONSERVATIVE PURITAN "ANTI"" DOES NOT HELP MORAL OCD.

YOU ARE THE DAMN TUMBLR DISCOUERSERS MAKING THIS SHIT WORSE FOR US! YOURE THE EXACT SAME BUT WITH FLIPPED BUZZWORDS! YOU'RE MISSING THE WHOLE DAMN POINT!

[gabseyoo]

DON'T WASTE THE NIGHT — SAKUSA KIYOOMI

content: college/university!au, halloween setting, female reader, virgin!kiyoomi, popular!reader, virginity loss, mutual pining, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, pretty vanilla but cute, mean girls references, kiyoomi might be a little occ, he’s shy :(, atsumu being atsumu. word count: 8,0k.

notes: yes i’m late to halloween but i don’t care :) it’s being so long since i posted a one shot and i had this idea for maybe a year, two (?), and i finally had the inspiration to write everythiiing. i’m happy with the result, i hope you like it too <3

Halloween parties were not Kiyoomi's thing. Rather, no party at all. He didn't like the crowds, the drunks, or the excessive noise. But thanks to his group of friends (which he doesn't even remember how he ended up being a part of), staying away from parties was almost impossible, so it was already a common thing for him to be dragged to one every weekend where he would be counting the minutes to leave and drive all his drunk friends home. 

But, that was not the case tonight. 

Surprisingly, it was the first time Kiyoomi didn't want to leave a party, and that was thanks to a certain someone who had shown up at the Miya's Halloween party. 

"Just go talk to her." 

Kiyoomi almost jumped in surprise at the sudden appearance of his personal headache, also known as Atsumu. 

"Who?" He asked, playing dumb because he knew perfectly well who the blond was referring to, and mentally slapped himself for not being more discreet.

Atsumu snorted, "Y/n. You're staring at her like a creep." He said, pointing his head in your direction across the room, where you were talking enthusiastically with your friend, dressed in a pink tracksuit. "I don't blame you. She's pretty."

Sakusa kept silent, trying to suppress his need to agree out loud, because of course you were pretty. More than pretty. 

"You like her, don't you?" 

Kiyoomi sighed heavily, obviously uncomfortable with the question. It was obvious he liked you. Very much. But he didn't trust Atsumu to be able to not make a big deal out of the fact that Sakusa liked someone, so he decided to answer his question with a dry: "No."

"Liar." The blond replied. "It's pretty obvious that you like her."

"I don't like her." He insisted, though he already knew it would be in vain, it wasn't for nothing he called Atsumu his headache.

"So you hate her and you're staring at her 'cause you're planning her murder?"

Jesuschrist.

"I'll be planning your murder if you don't shut up." 

Atsumu pursed his lips and Kiyoomi thanked god in his head. But the fake threat seemed to work only for a limited time, because the twin spoke again seconds later, making him roll his eyes.

"Don't you even think she's pretty?"

He let out a sigh in frustration, but agreed with the question because, c’mon, it will be a very blatant lie to deny the obvious, "She is." He admitted, "But I don't like her." 

"You do like her, there can't be any other reason why you were looking at her like that."

Kiyoomi rolled his eyes, is there a way to shut this guy down?

"Like what?" 

"Like you like her." 

"If I say so, will you shut the fuck up?" He blurted, resigned. 

"I knew it!" Atsumu exclaimed victoriously, and Kiyoomi just let out a sigh, cringing when the twin tapped him a little too hard on the shoulder as if he was congratulating him. "Wow. So Omi likes someone, huh, who knew." 

"Don't make a big deal out of it." 

"Omi, liking someone isn't a bad thing." He said in a more earnest manner, perhaps trying to show that he was actually serious and not joking about his friend’s situation. 

Kiyoomi closed his eyes for a moment and sighed before replying, "I know it's not."

"Then why don't you go and talk to her? She's in your class, isn't she? It wouldn't be weird. Maybe she likes you back."

The twin had a point. Sakusa sat behind you for two hours straight five days a week during a very boring class. While you might not call yourselves the best of friends, you could say you got along well— you would usually turn around to ask him if he understood the subject so he could explain it to you, borrow a pen or offer him a gum. Occasionally you would randomly show him your phone with something you thought was funny and there were even times when you would ask his opinion on which item to buy or which selfie to post, you would often have small conversations and even followed each other on Instagram. And, as a bonus, lately you had started walking together to the classroom exit at the end of class where you would say goodbye with a 'see you tomorrow'. 

But you liking him back? He didn't think he was that lucky.

Because, yes, maybe you weren't a stranger to Kiyoomi and he wasn't a stranger to you either, but contrary to what many believed, Sakusa Kiyoomi didn't have much experience with women, not even with having a crush on someone. The idea of talking to you outside the classroom made him nervous. You were too pretty and too charming and too popular and too hot and... out of his league.

There were times when he wondered if it was possible for you to like him? Okay, call him arrogant, but he knew he was nowhere near ugly, that was a point in his favor. But one point that was not in his favor was the fact that, yes, maybe he was good-looking, but the university was full of good-looking guys, who unlike him, were more... outgoing. Guys who smiled more and didn't have a grumpy attitude like he did, who weren't known for being rude, and who probably wouldn't think twice about asking for your number or inviting you on a date. And, honestly, he felt like one more in the very long list of men who have a crush on you. 

"It's just..." He started, but the words were lost in his throat.

"Just what?"

"She doesn't see me that way. Just leave it at that, okay?" He finished his sentence, taking a sip from the bottle of water he'd been carrying since he arrived. 

Atsumu folded his arms, glancing in your direction for a moment before making that smile that never meant anything good, "You know what? I have an idea." 

Kiyoomi panicked. "Miya, what are you gonna do?" 

"You'll thank me later." 

And just like that, Atsumu pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against and before Sakusa could stop him, he started walking in your direction.

No. No. No. No. Kiyoomi's heart was going to escape from his chest. Fuck. He knew it was a bad idea to be honest with Atsumu. A. Fucking. Bad. Idea.

He watched frozen from his spot in the corner of the room the moment the blond approached you, greeting you and your friend casually before saying who knows what that made you look at him with confusion for a moment as you exchanged more words, but after something that left the blond's mouth, your face lit up with a smile. The interaction seemed to be going well, until the twin pointed— really fucking pointed—over his shoulder, and then, you connected your eyes with Kiyoomi’s for a moment. 

His feet began to move automatically. 

Towards the exit. 

He was so embarrassed. What did Atsumu say to you? What did you think? Fuck. He didn't even want to know. He was out of here, he'd move his seat to the other end of the classroom, or better yet, he'd never set foot in that class again, who cares if he had to repeat it next semester, that was better than looking you in the face after this.

"Where do you think you're goin'?" 

Sakusa was halfway to his car when he heard the twin's voice call out to him. 

"Home." 

Atsumu trotted up in front of him. "Come on. Don't be like that, listen-" 

"You fucking embarrassed me." He spat, pulling his keys out of his jacket roughly. 

"I didn't. I just did you a favor." Atsumu replied, crossing his arms proudly, which only raised Kiyoomi's anger levels.

Don't punch him. Don't punch him. Don't punch him.

"Fuck you, don't talk to me ever again."

"C'mon Kiyoomi, trust me. You think I'm capable of making a fool of you?" The twin asked with confidence in his voice. Kiyoomi simply looked at him, his silence explaining his answer, which caused Atsumu's smile to disappear. "Ouch." The twin brought a hand to his chest dramatically and Kiyoomi rolled his eyes before pressing a button on the control, removing the lock and alarm. 

He was barely about to open the car door when Atsumu spoke again. This time in a more serious tone, "Omi, I'm your friend. Just trust me. I would never do anything to hurt you."

Kiyoomi would never admit that those words made him feel a little bad about his attitude. 

Without removing his hand from the door handle, he blurted out the question that was consuming him and that he needed an answer to.

"What did you tell her?" 

For some reason, he expected Atsumu to answer with honesty, but he wasn't surprised when instead, the twin simply replied, "A wingman never reveals his secrets."

"Oh, fuck off." He mused, opening his car door just a few centimeters before the other man's hand closed it.

"Look, just go inside and talk to her. I swear I saw it in her face that she’s interested, of course, until you ran away like a chicken. I hope she's not offended and you've lost the opportunity of a lifetime." 

Only a sentence of Atsumu's words caught his attention.  

"What do you mean with 'she looked interested'?" He asked, his voice betraying him by not sounding as disinterested as he wanted it to.

Atsumu smirked. "It seems like she does see you that way."

You do?

The mere possibility of that being true, of you seeing him that way, was what prompted him to let out a last sigh and set the car alarm again before locking his keys in his hoodie. Although he wouldn't say this out loud and was still unhappy with Atsumu's actions, the twin was right in saying that this could be his chance. Maybe he should stop feeling self-conscious and just go for it. 

"If you're lying, you forget I exist." 

"Deal." Atsumu said, stretching out his hand, waiting for him to take it, but the black-haired simply brushed past him, to which the twin simply huffed in resignation before following his friend.  

Kiyoomi's feet felt heavier with every step he took back to the twins' house, he was going to do it. He was actually going to do it. He was going to talk to you outside the classroom, after whatever Atsumu had told you, which opened the door to many possibilities. One, was that you liked him; the other, was that you didn't and that you only saw him as a friend, he longed too much for the first option but he wouldn't be dissatisfied with the second, it all depended on how things turned out when he walked through the door in front of him.

Kiyoomi inhaled and exhaled, filling himself with courage before placing his hand on the doorknob. 

But that burst of bravery he was able to fill himself with was interrupted by the twin, who stopped him with a grip on the wrist.

"Don't touch m-" He didn't finish his sentence since Atsumu put something cold in the palm of his hand. 

"Here." Atsumu whispered and Kiyoomi looked at the object, frowned in confusion when he realized it was a key. "It's the key to the guest room. Use it wisely."

Use it wisely? What did that mean?

"Why would I want to-" Kiyoomi started, but the twin interrupted him, raising a finger to silence him. 

"Shh. Thank me when you're at the altar and I'm your best man. Let's go inside." 

And just like that, Atsumu grabbed his arm to pull him inside the house.

Bruno Mars' voice was blaring from the speakers in the living room, people were singing at the top of their lungs, drinking and dancing, evidently having a good time. Sometimes Kiyoomi wondered how the twins knew so many people, there were so many guests that they had to push their way through the crowd to get to where you were still standing by the kitchen area, looking spectacular as ever as you talked to your friend.

As if you sensed his presence, you turned your face and your eyes met, causing Kiyoomi's heart to skip a beat. Damn, was this a good idea?

"Here he is." Atsumu announced their arrival excitedly. "The Kiyoomi I was telling you about. Does he look familiar?"

Sakusa almost rolled his eyes, but the chuckle you let out at Atsumu's humor stopped him, "Yes, I think I know him." You replied, your eyes still fixed on the tall black-haired man in front of you. 

"Perfect!" He exclaimed, clasping his hands together enthusiastically. "Then, since there's no need for introductions, I'll leave you two alone." The twin said, patting him on the back before turning and leaving. 

"Yeah, me too." Your friend said, throwing you a mischievous look and copying Atsumu's action, losing herself in the crowd. 

Now that you were alone (if it could be considered "alone" in a room full of people), he wondered where the direct Kiyoomi was when he needed him. Say something, say something, say something, say something. He mentally shouted to himself, but he was so intimidated by your presence and the cute way you were looking at him that no words could formulate in his mouth. 

"Uh—, hi." He said after a few awkward seconds of silence, trying to play it cool by leaning against the kitchen island. 

"Hi." You replied with a smile and looked up at him, as if waiting for him to say something else, but at Kiyoomi's lack of response, you continued, "How are you?"

So fucking nervous, he wanted to say, but instead, a 'fine and you?' left his mouth. 

"Me too." You said, and he noticed how you bit your lip lightly, as if you were thinking of what to say before speaking again: "Um… did you do the homework for Monday?"

"Yes, and you?"

"Yup."

Fuck. This was pathetic. He was pathetic. If he were someone else, someone like Atsumu perhaps, he might have already charmed you with words, made you laugh and you would be having a more enjoyable conversation. 

After a sigh, you spoke again. "Are you drinking?"

"Yes." He said, raising his water bottle and feeling stupid a second later, obviously by that question you meant was he consuming alcohol. "Something like that. And you?"

"Something like that" You repeated his words, raising a glass goblet showing what appeared to be a cocktail. "It’s strawberry juice, goes with my costume, and I'm also driving tonight, so I can't drink too much."

"That's very responsible of you."

That's very responsible of you?!

Couldn't he think of something more stupid to say? Probably not. 

But if you thought his answer was stupid, you didn't give it away, since you giggled before saying, "I think it is."

In an attempt to divert attention from his very stupid comment, he took advantage of the information you gave him about the drink to salvage this interaction. "So— why the drink goes with the costume?" 

"You don't know who I am?" You asked, raising your arms to better show off your costume. It was very 2000s style. A pink tracksuit, a white blouse under it, also a necklace. 

"Uh— Paris Hilton?" He guessed, inwardly hoping he was right. 

You giggled again. "Almost. I'm Regina George's mom." You said, giving him a bump with your shoulder against his arm. And, amazingly, Kiyoomi for the first time did not find an unexpected physical contact upsetting. "What do you think? I didn't know who to dress up as and this was last minute."

"You look…" Divine. "Good."

"Thank you." As soon as your words were out of your mouth, he noticed how you stared at his outfit, squinting your eyes and making a tender gesture with your mouth that he had learned you did when you thought of something. "Come to think of it, you pretty much look like Damien in that hoodie. You should just add some sunglasses." You added after a few seconds, pointing to the blue fabric covering his body. 

Kiyoomi frowned. Damien? Who the fuck was Damien and why he looked like him? 

“Who?” He asked. 

“Damien? The guy who shows up in the middle of the gym scene? With the blue hoodie and glasses? You haven't seen Mean Girls?”

The tone in which you said it made him regret having refused his cousin’s offer to see that damn movie a few months ago. 

"No, I've only heard of it." He admitted with a shrug.

Surprisingly, you smiled at his response, "It's a classic. We should see it sometime."

We should. A half smile appeared on his face at the word we. "Yes, we should."

"Um, do you wanna go watch the beer pong game?"

—

Two hours later, Kiyoomi found himself having what was perhaps the longest conversation with a girl of his life, and the one he had enjoyed the most. 

After awkwardly breaking the ice and watching Atsumu lose (two times in a row) in beer pong, you moved to the living room, where you luckily found space on the couch where you had been sitting since then. 

Kiyoomi leaned back against the couch, his elbow resting on the armrest as he listened intently to you recount an embarrassing childhood memory that had him chuckling softly. The sight was rare, and his friends’ curious stares only made it rarer, he knew they were probably losing their minds right now, but he tried to ignore them, though, focusing instead on the way your eyes lit up when you spoke. You were magnetic in a way he hadn’t expected, and the realization only deepened the smile tugging at his lips. God, how much he regretted not having the self-confidence to talk to you in this way much earlier. 

“Okay, your turn.” You said, nudging his knee lightly with yours.

“My turn?”

“To tell me something embarrassing. Come on, don’t hold out on me now.” You teased, leaning just a fraction closer.

Kiyoomi let out a low groan, feigning reluctance. “Fine. But you owe me for this.”

As he started to recount a story about an unfortunate middle school haircut incident, his voice grew more animated, his laughter trying to break through every now and then, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the room melted away.

The conversation flowed naturally, but there was an underlying tension, an awareness that neither of you could ignore. When he finished his story, you both fell into a comfortable silence, your knees still brushing against each other.

“Is it me or the twins keep staring at us?” You asked out of the blue, pointing with your head to a spot behind Kiyoomi, who didn't even want to bother turning around—because most likely no, it wasn't you—but still did, finding both twins pretending to look away before going their separate ways, Atsumu bumping into someone in the attempt. 

He sighed deeply, his lips pressing into a line. “Ignore them. They’re just… nosy.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Nosy about what?”

His face turned a faint shade of red, and he leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Kiyoomi didn't want to, but he would tell you the truth. “Probably that I'm talking to a girl.”

You chuckled, maybe finding his bashfulness endearing. “Do you not talk to girls often or something?”

“No.” He said, pretending that the admission didn't make him feel a little embarrassed.

“And is there any special reason why I'm the lucky one?” 

Kiyoomi hesitated, his gaze flickering to yours before dropping to where your knees touched. His mind raced for an answer, but nothing felt sufficient—not for what he was feeling, not for why you had captivated him so completely.

“You're… different.” He finally said, his voice quieter than before.

“Different how?” You asked, your tone teasing but your eyes soft with curiosity.

He let out a breath, his hand brushing against his neck again, “You're easy to talk to. Genuine. And you're…” He stopped himself, shaking his head with a self-conscious laugh.

“I'm what?” You prompted, leaning in slightly, your voice coaxing.

“You're just… you. And I like that.”

Your playful expression softened into something warmer, and the space between you felt even smaller. “That's probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me, Kiyoomi.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The silence that followed wasn't awkward—it was charged, alive with a tension neither of you could deny anymore. His hand, resting between you on the couch, shifted slightly, his fingers brushing yours. The touch was brief, almost hesitant, but it was enough to make you glance up at him.

In that moment, something unspoken passed between you—an understanding, a shared want that neither of you could ignore any longer.

Kiyoomi leaned in slowly, his movements deliberate, as if savoring every second leading up to the moment his lips met yours. When they did, the kiss was soft, tentative at first, but it quickly deepened as the world around you faded into the background. He wasn't an experienced kisser, he hadn't done it enough times in his life to consider himself one, but he let instinct guide him, following your rhythm. It was slow and even sweet, he could taste the flavor of your gloss. Strawberry. Maybe the same one he always saw you applying in the middle of class and now decided it was his new favorite flavor. 

Kiyoomi doesn't know at what point the kiss became a little more intense. He could feel you pressing into him as you pulled one of your legs up onto his lap. He was so immersed in the kiss that he even forgot where he was, in the middle of a party, on an old couch surrounded by strangers and friends. 

This same realization also seems to have reached you, because at that very moment you broke the kiss. And even though only seconds had passed, he already missed the feeling of your lips against his. 

“Well—” You said, your voice light but still a little shaky. “I think your friends will definitely have something to talk about now.”

Kiyoomi chuckled softly, his thumb grazing over your knuckles. “Let them.”

You looked into his eyes and smiled at him, you looked very pretty with your slightly swollen lips and bright eyes. At that moment, Kiyoomi wondered if this was real or some dream, he was almost certain that his eyes betrayed how madly smitten he was by you. 

“Kiyoomi,” You said, your voice breaking him out of his thoughts.

He tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching in curiosity. “Yeah?”

Your next words, simple yet charged, left him momentarily stunned.

“Can we go somewhere else?”

—

When Atsumu gave him the key to the guest room, he never thought he would actually use it. But here he was, with a very excited you at his side waiting for him to open the door. He really hoped you wouldn't ask why he had that key, because he knew he didn't want to lie to you as he also knew he didn't want to give you the explanation.  

After he opened the door, he stepped aside to let you in first before passing behind you. And something that caught him off guard was, when he barely closed the door behind him, you were quick to lock it before you put your hands on his cheeks to kiss him again. This time hungrier, more passionate. 

You were a good kisser, too good. And that only made Sakusa more nervous than he already was, he knew what you wanted, he knew where this was headed. And even though he wanted it too, the reality is that he had no idea what the fuck to do. 

His body was tensing up, overthinking the situation. He was not experienced in this area, not at all.

Still, he tried to keep up with you, walking backwards as you kissed him until he fell into a sitting position on the bed. 

In a matter of seconds, Kiyoomi watched as you took off your pink sweater, staying only in your tank top which didn't cover you for long, since you took it off immediately, leaving a very nice white bra in sight. 

It would be a lie to say that Kiyoomi was not hard. Because he was. Perhaps much harder than he had ever been in his life. 

“I really wanted to do this.” You said, and without even giving Kiyoomi time to process what you just confessed, you kissed him again, took both of his hands and brought them to your breasts as you straddled his lap. 

Kiyoomi almost choked when he felt your soft breasts under his palms, but instead of doing something with his hands, he stayed still, afraid to make a move you might not like. 

He was frustrated with himself. He literally had the girl of his dreams all over him, kissing him, letting him touch her after admitting that she wanted to do this and he just did nothing. 

Just relax, he told himself. Let yourself go. 

But his body seemed to betray him again the moment your hands went to his pants with the intention of unbuttoning them, because the first reaction he had was to stop you while from his mouth escaped a “Wait.”

“What happened?” You asked, your brow furrowed, obviously confused by his sudden reaction. 

C'mon, Kiyoomi, just tell her. She's an angel, she will understand. 

“I don't know how to say this.” He mumbled, almost to himself. Still, he took a deep breath, encouraging himself to speak. “I, uh- I don't-” He tried to explain himself, but before he could complete the sentence, you interrupted him.

“You don't want to do this, do you?” You spoke softly, Kiyoomi looked up, meeting your face which had an expression full of disappointment. 

His stomach turned over, no, no, no, no. You had misunderstood. “Y/n, that wasn't what—”

You quickly got up from his lap and bent down to pick up your shirt, “It's okay, I just-” Your voice broke as tears escaped your eyes and Kiyoomi felt like he wanted to kill himself at that moment, “I just want you to know that I'm not usually like this, but, when Atsumu told me that you liked me I thought that— I'm sorry, this is embarrassing.” The words rushed out of your mouth as you put your clothes back on. 

Kiyoomi would ignore (for now) that Atsumu really told you that he liked you literally only minutes after he admitted it, he would kill him later, now his main priority was you and clearing up this mess as soon as possible. 

“Hey, wait.” He said, holding you by the wrist to keep you from turning around and leaving. “I'm sorry. This is a misunderstanding, just, listen to me for a minute.” 

You looked at him silently before turning to face him again. 

He took a deep breath before continuing, “I like you, too much. I've been for a long time. And believe me when I tell you I really want to do it.” He admitted, and before you could say anything, he continued, “It's just that, I’m really fucking nervous. I— I've never done this.” His last words came out in a lower tone due to nerves and perhaps some embarrassment. But there was no turning back now. 

You looked at him for a few seconds, blinking at him before asking, “Done... what?”

“This.”

“Oh. Are you a…” You said, leaving the last word up in the air, but he mentally finished it for you, knowing full well what you were going to say.

A virgin.

“Yes.” He confirmed it. 

You were silent, and although it was somewhat dark, Kiyoomi could tell the shock on your face. He understood. If he were you, he might have been surprised too, since it's a fact that not many people expect. 

Kiyoomi was silent as well, silently mourning for himself. Thinking that maybe he ruined everything and a part of him was afraid that you would make fun of him. But the truth is that he was more worried if you left, how would he look at your face after that? He wouldn't be able to. It looked like he would have to take back the plan to leave that class and move to another country, which was a shame, because everything was going so well. 

His thoughts were interrupted when out of nowhere you let out a chuckle. 

“I'm kind of dramatic, don't you think?”

What? 

“I rushed to think that the reason you were a little tense and decided to stop was because you didn't like me, I never imagined that it was because you were… nervous. I'm really sorry, Kiyoomi.”

“Hey, It's okay, don't apologize. ” He said before taking both of your hands in his, “I should do it for not saying it from the beginning.”

“I didn't even give you the time to do it, I rushed too much, I should have taken it slower. But, I was excited, I mean, I just found out that the guy I like, likes me too.”

Okay, this is the second time you've admitted that you liked Kiyoomi. And wow, it felt fantastic to hear it, it felt so good and surreal at the same time that after all, it seemed that his feelings were indeed reciprocal. 

“I think I ruined the mood.” You said in a chuckle, making Kiyoomi frown. “It's okay if you want to stop.”

He didn't want to stop, in fact, he felt quite the opposite. He wanted to do it, with you and only you. So he didn't think much of it when he asked, “Do you?” 

“Huh?”

“Do you want to stop?”

He watched you bite your lip lightly before responding in the most adorable voice ever, “No.”

“Me neither.”

You looked at each other for a few more seconds before you wrapped your arms around his neck to bring your lips together again. The kiss was slower, and for some reason it felt much more intimate. 

Kiyoomi returned his hands to your waist, now feeling more comfortable enough to caress you with his thumbs before slowly moving down your hips to your thighs, you seemed to understand what he wanted, because you automatically straddled his lap again. 

After the awkward moment you just spent, his erection had softened, but when he felt your center against his crotch, combined with the kiss becoming more passionate, his dick soon got hard again. You felt it, of course you felt it. That must have been why you began to move slowly over him, brushing your sex against his, which caused Kiyoomi to moan against your mouth.  

Kiyoomi by this point felt more comfortable, perhaps more confident, so he dared to run his hands up your sides until he reached the hem of your blouse. 

“Can I take it off?” He asked after breaking the kiss, and you looked so cute when you let out a giggle and nodded before raising your arms as Kiyoomi pulled up the fabric. 

Your bra came back into view, but not for long, as you brought your hands behind your back to unfasten it to let it fall to the side—Kiyoomi thanked mentally for this because he was sure it would have taken him quite a while to remove it by himself—.

The light coming through the window was enough to appreciate you well, which he was grateful for, because he really didn't want to miss any detail of seeing you this way. His thumbs went up to caress your nipples, which were erect and looked too cute. It was a gentle touch first before cradling both breasts in his hands and squeezing them gently. 

“Can I...?” The question was lost in his throat, somewhat shy even to speak during this moment. 

“Kiyoomi,” You said his name, grabbing him by the cheeks to make him look at your face, perhaps so he would be a hundred percent sure you meant what you were about to say, “You can do anything you want to me. If I don't like something, I promise I'll tell you, okay?”

He looked at you for a few seconds before answering, appreciating your face completely, from your eyes to your lips. God, you were so beautiful. “Okay.”

Kiyoomi kissed your neck and left a small peck on your collarbone before taking one of your nipples into his mouth. He took it slowly, running his tongue softly over it before sucking gently, and somehow he felt proud of himself when you let out a little moan and brought your hand to his black curls. 

He took his time, enjoying the taste of your skin in his mouth as he switched from one nipple to the other and finding delight in the little sounds you made until he felt eager for more. When he parted his lips from you, it was to remove his hoodie and t-shirt in one motion, letting them fall to the floor. 

“Wow,” The expression came out of you almost automatically at the sight of his body. Your delicate hands went to his biceps, making a path along his skin, past his shoulders to his chest. “How can you be so hot?”

Your words caught him off guard, so he couldn't help the laughter that came out of him. “You think?”

“Of course, just look at you.” Your hands followed their trail, down his abs to his v-line, at that moment he knew what you would do next. You settled on his thighs, leaving more space between his crotch and yours, then lowered your hand to the noticeable bulge in his pants. 

Kiyoomi almost moaned when you stroked him and almost choked on his own saliva when your thumb circled the tip, god, he knew he was leaking and hoped it didn't feel in his pants. 

It was the moment you squeezed him, that something changed inside him, he felt eager for more, and although he didn't want to rush this, he dared to bring your lips together again and, placing a hand on your lower back to keep you from falling, he turned around to lay you down on the bed. 

When he felt your hands on the edge of your pants, he decided to break the kiss and positioned himself in the middle of your legs to help you complete the action, pulling the fabric gently down your legs to drop them on the floor. Fuck. He gave himself the pleasure of admiring for a moment your beautiful form in front of him, in nothing but underwear, and practically giving yourself to him. If he was dreaming, he will kill whoever wakes him up.

His hands went up your thighs until they reached the edge of your underwear to start pulling it down, you raised your hips to help him and that was the moment where Kiyoomi saw for the first time your pussy. He gulped when in top of that, you spread your legs just as he finished removing the garment, exposing you completely to him, letting him see all of you. 

Now, what was he supposed to do? Sakusa was not completely uneducated on the subject, he knew where he was supposed to touch or even kiss. But he also knew that knowing it wasn't the same as doing it. So he preferred to be honest and let you guide him rather than try to do something he wasn't entirely sure you would like. 

“I really want to make you feel good, but, can you just…” For some reason (embarrassment) the words were lost in his throat. 

“Guide you?” You finished the sentence for him. 

“Something like that.” He mumbled. 

You smiled with what Kiyoomi guessed would be tenderness before taking his hand and guiding it to the middle of your legs. 

The first touch almost knocked the wind out of him and made his erection press harder against his pants, fuck, you were so wet and he could hardly believe it was because of him. 

Sakusa leaned forward with one arm by the side of your head, meeting your face a few inches from his as you whispered to him how to please you. He circled your clit at the speed you liked, thrusting his fingers in and out, hitting that sensitive spot inside you that you helped him find, enjoying the moans that came from your beautiful lips and the way one of your hands squeezed his shoulder with pleasure. 

You kissed him the moment you started to cum on his fingers, your legs even trembled and Kiyoomi had never felt so proud of himself. He kissed you with the same desire, not ceasing to give you pleasure until you asked him to stop because of over stimulation. 

“God… you're so beautiful.” The words came out of their own accord as he looked down at you. 

“You think?” You smirked. 

“Every day.” 

“I never thought you'd see me that way, you know?” Those words were kind of funny coming from you. The girl who was the dream of many. Including his own. 

“Why?” 

You shrugged, a playful glint in your eyes as you leaned slightly closer. “Because you’re you, Kiyoomi. Cold, composed, and…” You paused, pretending to think. “Kind of scary sometimes.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, but the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement. “Scary?”

“You know what I mean.” You teased. “You’re just… untouchable. Like, you don’t even notice anyone half the time.”

Kiyoomi chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “I notice you.”

Your smile faltered for a second, replaced by something softer, something real. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He said. “You’ve always stood out to me. Even when I tried to act like you didn’t.”

You tilted your head, your expression thoughtful. “Why did you try to hide it?”

He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck as he glanced away for a moment. “Because… I didn't think I'd ever have a chance. I thought you were way out of my league.”

Your laugh was soft, light, and you reached out to gently take his hand. “Kiyoomi, you're ridiculous.”

“Am I?”

“Absolutely.” You said, patting his bicep lightly. “Because if you had just talked to me sooner, you'd know I've been trying to get your attention for ages.”

His eyes widened slightly, his lips parting as he tried to process your words. “You… what?”

You grinned, leaning in just enough that your noses almost touched. “I've always liked you, Kiyoomi. I just didn't think you'd ever notice.”

Kiyoomi stared at you, his heart pounding in his chest, before his lips quirked into a lopsided smile. “Guess we're both ridiculous, then.”

“Guess we are.” You murmured, and this time, it was you who closed the distance, your lips brushing his in a kiss so soft and sweet, the total opposite of the words that came out of your mouth next, “Now, please fuck me before I lose my mind.” 

Of course he would, his mind and his cock couldn't hold back any longer. 

“Just. Let. Me. Take– Take these off.” He said between kisses as you wouldn't let go, insisting on keeping his lips on yours with your palms on his cheeks. 

Kiyoomi did his best to remove his jeans and underwear in one go without breaking the kiss, but in the end, he had to do so (albeit unwillingly), when the last of his clothes were on the floor and the two of you were completely naked, to say something he remembered at the last minute. 

“I don't have a condom.”

This was bad, unfortunately Kiyoomi didn't carry any with him right now. The only one he used to carry in his wallet (just in case), he ended up giving it to Atsumu two weeks ago at a party, since at the time, the twin needed more than he did. Now he regretted it. 

You looked at him for a moment, processing his words before saying, “I don't care if you don't care.” 

“Are you sure?” He asked, astonishment radiating from his face.

“Very sure.”

Kiyoomi gulped before nodding, nervous about what was coming next. 

He took his cock in his palm, giving himself a few gentle strokes before lining himself up with your entrance. Your hand went to the middle of your bodies to replace his hand with yours and he heard you gasp at the feel of his shaft. 

“God, how— Kiyoomi, are you telling me you're a virgin with a dick like this?”

Kiyoomi couldn't help but let out a laugh, this was one of the things he liked most about you, how you spoke your mind bluntly. 

“I guess so.”

“Well, I wanted you to put it in in one go. But I guess we'll have to go slow.” You teased, adjusting your hips as you continued to slowly stroke his dick. 

Kiyoomi moaned as he felt your wet entrance meeting his leaking tip. He already felt in heaven and he wasn't even inside you yet. 

He placed both of his arms beside your head, looking down at you as he slowly thrust his hips forward, moving deeper into you. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This felt so good. You felt so wet, so hot, so tight that he had to mentally beg his cock not to cum soon, he couldn't embarrass himself like that. 

He pressed his lips against your forehead, kissing casually as he heard you moan as you took him in. “Does it hurt?” He asked, still with half of his dick out of you. 

“A little.” You admitted and that worried Kiyoomi, who was about to pull out, but you spoke first. “But it feels so good, just keep going, it'll fade away.” 

He nodded and continued to enter you until he was completely inside you. He had to press his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a moment at the new feeling he was experiencing. 

“How does it feel?” He heard you ask after a minute, your sweet voice filling the silence where only your breaths could be heard. 

“Too good. Fuck. I don't think I'll last long.” He admitted, somewhat embarrassed, but still eager for more. “Can I— fuck—can I move?”

“Yes, please.”

Slowly at first, he began to move his hips, enjoying the feel of your wet walls squeezing him. Kiyoomi couldn't believe he missed out on this pleasure for so long, but he was glad that the one he was experiencing it with for the first time was you. 

He looked down at you, paying attention to your face and appreciating your expressions with adoration radiating from his eyes. How you bit your lower lip, how you opened your lips slightly, how you closed your eyes, how you smiled when you made eye contact. 

You whispered in his ear to go faster, and without a second thought, he complied with your request. He slipped both of his arms under your armpits to hold on tighter and began to thrust so hard that even the bed began to hit the wall. Thank goodness there was a party going on downstairs and the sound of the bed along with the sound of your moans would not be heard by others. 

“Kiyoomi…” You moaned his name, sounding like an angel as you did. Your hands went behind his back, holding him tightly against you and he even felt your nails digging lightly into his skin. He couldn't resist bringing your lips together again, kissing you sloppily as he moved in and out of you. 

He felt you squeeze him as your moans increased before he brought one of his hands to the middle of your bodies, circling messily over your clit, bringing you to the edge. Your legs trembled and a cute moan left your mouth as you came. Kiyoomi also moaned against your lips, you squeezed him so deliciously that he was surprised he didn't explode at that moment, but he knew he wasn't far from it. 

“I'm going to…” The words were lost in his throat as he felt his own orgasm so close. He was panting like crazy, holding you tighter against him as he settled his head in the crook of your neck and his thrusts became more intense. 

“Don't pull out, please.” 

His common sense told him that was irresponsible, but his desire along with how sexy it was to hear you say those words were stronger, because when he least realized it, he was cumming inside you— and it felt good, too good. Nothing compared to the orgasms his hand had so far provided. God, he might get addicted to you after this. 

The room fell into a silence, where only your accelerated breathing and the music muffled by the door could be heard. You both refused to move for a few moments, enjoying the touch of your skin and the vital sounds of each other. 

The dim light slipping through the windows painted faint shadows on the walls, highlighting the way your bodies pressed together. Your skin against his was warm, electric, like a spark neither of you wanted to break. Time felt like it slowed, stretching out as you both stayed perfectly still, caught in the pull of the moment. He could feel your heartbeat under his touch, steady and grounding, blending into the quiet rhythm of your breaths.

“So, how was it?” You broke the silence, stroking his back with your fingertips. 

Kiyoomi couldn't help but let out a chuckle in the midst of his quickening breath, “Mind blowing.” 

“I agree.”

Kiyoomi propped himself up on his forearms, his eyes meeting your adorable face, and he couldn't help but smile softly. He leaned down to press a quick, gentle kiss to your lips before settling down beside you. With an easy, natural motion, he slid a hand to your waist, pulling you closer to him. Now, with your head resting on his chest, he held you with the kind of tenderness that made the moment feel too perfect to let go of.

As the quiet rhythm of his breathing filled the room, Kiyoomi looked down at you, nestled against his chest. He absentmindedly traced gentle circles on your back with his fingers, his mind lingering on the softness of the moment. The warmth of your presence and the steady rhythm of your breathing calmed him, but his mind refused to settle.

He couldn't stop replaying the events of the night—the way your presence had lit up the room, the way you spoke with such ease and authenticity, and how natural it felt to be by your side. For someone who usually kept people at a distance, you had somehow bypassed every barrier he'd carefully built.

The thought made his chest tighten, but not with unease. With something new. Something he wanted to hold onto.

He glanced down at you, his heart catching at the way your eyelashes fluttered as you blinked sleepily. He knew moments like this didn't come often—not for him. And he knew it— he wanted more. 

But would you want that, too?

The doubt lingered for only a second before he pushed it aside. Tonight had been proof enough that whatever this was, it was mutual. And if he didn't take a chance, he'd regret it.

Gathering his courage, he took a breath, his voice low and steady as he broke the silence.

“Hey.” He began, the faintest hint of shyness lacing his tone. “Do you have plans tomorrow?”

You smiled, your cheek still resting against his chest. “Not yet. Why?”

“I was thinking…” He hesitated for a beat, then pressed on. “Maybe we could go out. Just the two of us.”

Your eyebrows lifted slightly, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Are you asking me on a date, Sakusa Kiyoomi?”

“Yeah.” He said. “I want to take you somewhere nice. Anywhere you want.”

You reached up to brush a strand of hair from his face. “I'd love that.”

His lips curved into a small, genuine smile, relief flickering across his expression. “Good. I'll make it worth your while.”

“You already are.”

spoiler: sakusa didn’t know it yet, but atsumu will actually be the best man a few years later.