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dreamersworldduh · 3 days ago

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HIS AWAKENING —PART 3

TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT

• NATE JACOBS x MALE!READER

SUMMARY — Though Nate has finally admitted his feelings for Y/N, expressing them is an entirely different battle. Used to guarding his emotions behind arrogance and control, he struggles with the vulnerability that comes with actually showing Y/N how much he cares. Every touch, every lingering glance, every unspoken word feels like unfamiliar territory—territory he’s not sure how to navigate.

Y/N, ever perceptive, notices the hesitation. While he appreciates Nate’s confession, he refuses to settle for half-measures. He wants something real, not just words spoken in the heat of the moment. And if Nate truly wants him, he needs to prove it—not just with declarations, but with actions.

Now, caught between his pride and his undeniable need for Y/N, Nate faces his biggest challenge yet: learning how to love without fear.

WARNING! 18+ MDNI. Suggestive Langauge. Swearing.

WORDS! 9.7k

AUTHOR’S NOTE! Of course the story of Nate Jacobs wasn’t over. I have a few more plans for our lovely toxic duo. Also working on get those requests done. Anywho, I hope you all enjoy!

The following weeks passed in a blur, and everything between Y/N and Nate had shifted in ways neither of them fully acknowledged—but both of them felt. The tension that once simmered between them had evolved into something more potent, more charged. It wasn't just about lingering glances or teasing remarks anymore. It was something unspoken, something that had settled into the very fabric of their everyday interactions.

Mornings were different.

Y/N used to wake up to the sound of Nate moving around the dorm, the rustling of fabric and the muffled sighs of someone half-asleep and grumpy about early practice. Now, he often woke up to the warmth of Nate's arm draped lazily over his waist, their bodies tangled in a way that no longer felt accidental. The first time it happened, Y/N had tried to slip out quietly, but Nate had pulled him back without opening his eyes, murmuring a sleep-heavy, "Stay."

And Y/N had.

Classes were different.

Before, they'd sit apart, pretending not to notice each other in lecture halls. Now, Nate made a habit of sitting beside Y/N, stretching out in his seat like he owned the space and shooting Y/N knowing smirks when their knees brushed under the desk. Occasionally, he'd pass him a note written in Nate's barely-legible handwriting—sometimes sarcastic, sometimes suggestive, always smug.

You looked good this morning.

Caught you staring. You're not subtle.

Meet me after practice. No excuses.

Afternoons were different.

The football field and track had once been separate worlds, their teams rarely crossing paths outside of shared locker room banter. But now, Nate's eyes found Y/N easily across the field. When Y/N stretched with his track team, his shorts riding high up his thighs, he could feel Nate's gaze on him. He would smirk, deliberately holding his poses a little longer than necessary, pretending not to notice the way Nate clenched his jaw.

And Nate? He was just as bad. During football drills, when he'd strip off his sweat-soaked jersey, he'd make sure Y/N was watching before wiping his face with the hem of his undershirt, letting Y/N catch a glimpse of hard-earned abs. And when he threw a perfect pass, he always turned to Y/N first—just to see if he was impressed.

Nights were the most different of all.

What started as shared, comfortable silence in their dorm had turned into something heavier. The space between their beds seemed smaller. Some nights, they barely spoke, the tension so thick it felt like an invisible string stretched between them, ready to snap. Other nights, Y/N would throw a teasing comment at Nate, just to see how much it would take before Nate's patience broke.

And sometimes, Nate wouldn't break at all. He'd just smirk, push off his bed, and walk toward Y/N with that look in his eyes—the one that made Y/N's breath hitch before Nate even touched him.

But they hadn't talked about it.

Not once.

Not about what they were. Not about how things had changed. Not about how, in public, Nate still acted like nothing had shifted, but behind closed doors, he touched Y/N like he belonged to him.

And maybe that was the most interesting part of all.

Because neither of them seemed ready to bring it up.

And neither of them seemed willing to stop.

For Y/N, this was nothing more than casual sex. A mutually beneficial arrangement between two roommates who happened to have undeniable chemistry. It wasn't the first time he'd found himself in this kind of situation—hooking up with someone for the thrill of it, for the fleeting heat of the moment, without the baggage that came with emotions.

He knew better than to let himself catch feelings.

Feelings were messy. Feelings led to expectations, and expectations led to disappointment. Y/N had learned that lesson the hard way before, and he had no intention of repeating it. He wasn't the type to sit around hoping for something that wasn't guaranteed.

And Nate?

Nate was just another notch in the bedpost, another mistake he refused to let turn into something more.

At least, that's what Y/N kept telling himself.

But despite every effort to keep things detached, Nate was growing on him.

It was the little things—the way Nate always seemed to find him in a crowded room, the way he'd smirk like he had a secret only Y/N knew, the way he lingered a little too long after they were done, his fingers ghosting over Y/N's skin like he didn't want to let go.

It was the way Nate said his name.

It was the way Nate looked at him.

Y/N wasn't oblivious. He saw the shifts in Nate's behavior, the way he acted differently with him than he did with anyone else. The way his cocky bravado softened ever so slightly when they were alone.

And Y/N had to admit—he had a soft spot for the guy.

It wasn't just about the sex anymore, not really. He liked the way Nate got competitive over stupid things, the way he'd steal Y/N's snacks and then buy him more without being asked. He liked the way Nate absentmindedly played with the hem of Y/N's sleeve when they sat close, the way his smirks turned into real smiles when Y/N got under his skin in just the right way.

But liking Nate didn't mean he was going to fall for him.

Not unless Nate gave him a reason to.

Not unless Nate said it first.

Because Y/N wasn't about to set himself up for heartbreak. He wasn't going to be the one holding onto something that wasn't reciprocated, waiting for Nate to figure himself out while Y/N suffered in silence.

No, if Nate wanted more, he was going to have to be the one to say it.

Until then, Y/N was single.

And if Nate thought otherwise?

Well, that was his problem

Whereas for Nate, everything about this was uncharted territory.

He wasn't the type to hesitate, wasn't the kind of guy who struggled with words or second-guessed himself. On the field, in the locker room, in every other aspect of his life, he was confident—in control.

But with Y/N?

With Y/N, Nate felt like he was stumbling through the dark, grasping at something just out of reach, something he barely knew how to define.

He hadn't even admitted to himself that he wanted Y/N—not just physically, but in a way that made his chest tighten whenever he saw him smile, in a way that made his stomach twist whenever he caught Y/N flirting with someone else at a party.

It had taken him weeks just to acknowledge that he had feelings for Y/N, and even now, he barely knew what to do with them.

Y/N wasn't making it easy, either.

The way Y/N carried himself—always so detached, so effortlessly casual about everything—was driving Nate insane. He acted like this was just another hookup, like there was nothing more to it, like what they were doing didn't mean anything.

And maybe it didn't—to him.

But to Nate?

Every time Y/N smirked at him from across the room, every time he ran his fingers through Nate's hair in the middle of the night like it wasn't a big deal, every time he laughed at one of Nate's dumb jokes like it was the easiest thing in the world—it meant something.

But how the hell was he supposed to say that out loud?

How was he supposed to admit that he wanted more, when Y/N acted like there wasn't even a "they" to begin with?

It pissed him off, honestly.

The way Y/N would tease him, get under his skin, rile him up, and then act like it was nothing. The way he would kiss Nate breathless one moment, then shrug him off like it was just another part of their routine.

Like Nate was just a roommate.

Like Nate was just a good fuck.

And maybe that's all this was for Y/N.

Maybe Nate was the only idiot who was making it into something more.

The thought made Nate clench his jaw, his fists tightening as he sat on the edge of his bed, watching Y/N from across the room. Y/N was scrolling through his phone, looking completely unbothered, like he hadn't spent the previous night gasping Nate's name, trembling under his hands.

Nate exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair.

He needed to get a grip.

He couldn't be the one to bring it up first. He wouldn't be.

Because if Y/N really didn't care—if this really was just casual for him—then Nate wasn't going to be the one making a fool of himself.

So he bit his tongue.

Swallowed every confession before it could leave his mouth.

Kept playing the game, even though he wasn't sure how much longer he could pretend that the only thing he wanted from Y/N was this.

Because the truth?

The truth was, Nate didn't just want Y/N in his bed.

He wanted him in his life.

And he had no fucking idea how to say it.

The lecture hall was filled with the monotone drone of the professor's voice, echoing off the walls as students either scribbled down notes diligently or stared off into space, barely paying attention. Y/N, ever the diligent student, sat upright, pen gliding smoothly over his notebook as he copied the key points from the lecture slides. His brows furrowed in concentration, his fingers tapping absently against the paper as he underlined an important concept.

To his left, Nate was struggling.

Slouched in his seat, arms crossed, his head bobbed slightly with each passing second, his eyelids growing heavier as the minutes dragged on. He barely even tried to hide it, his mouth parting slightly as he fought off sleep, only for his head to tilt dangerously forward before he caught himself at the last second.

Y/N side-eyed him before nudging him with his elbow. "You keep nodding off like that, and you're gonna wake up drooling all over your desk," he murmured under his breath.

Nate cracked one eye open, blinking sluggishly before stretching out his legs under the desk. "Mm," he grunted, voice thick with exhaustion. "This class is pointless."

Y/N scoffed, flipping to a fresh page. "It's not pointless if you actually pay attention."

Nate made a dismissive noise, letting his head tip back against his chair. "Why should I? You're already taking notes for me."

Y/N paused mid-sentence, turning his head to shoot Nate an incredulous look. "Excuse me?"

Nate cracked a smirk, tilting his head toward Y/N but keeping his posture lazy. "Come on," he said, voice low and smooth. "You know you're gonna let me copy them."

Y/N arched an eyebrow. "And what makes you so sure about that?"

Nate's smirk widened as he leaned in just a fraction, his voice dropping lower, enough that only Y/N could hear. "Because you like when I owe you favors." He let the words linger before adding, "And we both know I'm very good at paying them back."

Y/N's grip on his pen faltered for just a second, his cheeks flushing faintly as the meaning behind Nate's words settled in. He turned to glare at him, but the effect was ruined by the small, involuntary smirk twitching at the corner of his lips.

"You're annoying," Y/N muttered, shaking his head as he tried to focus back on his notes.

Nate just grinned, leaning back in his chair like he'd won.

Unfortunately, their whispered exchange hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Mr. Jacobs. Mr. Y/L/N," the professor's voice rang out from the front of the lecture hall, immediately silencing the murmurs of other students. "Since you both seem to be having such an engaging discussion, perhaps you'd like to share your thoughts with the class?"

Y/N's head snapped up, his eyes widening slightly as he realized every pair of eyes in the room was now trained on him and Nate.

Nate, on the other hand, remained completely unbothered. He didn't even sit up properly, just lazily turned his head toward the professor with an easy smirk. "Oh, I'd love to, but I'd hate to take up time from your lecture," he drawled, voice dripping with faux innocence.

A few students chuckled under their breath, clearly entertained by the interaction, while Y/N resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands.

The professor, unimpressed, sighed. "I'd suggest you both start paying attention before the midterm surprises you."

"Of course, professor," Y/N said quickly, elbowing Nate hard in the ribs as he dropped his gaze back to his notebook.

Nate let out a small grunt at the impact but merely smirked, glancing at Y/N from the corner of his eye. He leaned in one last time, whispering just low enough that no one else could hear.

"Admit it," Nate murmured, voice teasing. "You like having me around."

Y/N didn't look at him, didn't give him the satisfaction. But the small, amused shake of his head as he kept writing told Nate everything he needed to know.

The moment class ended, students moved like a tidal wave toward the exit, eager to escape the monotony of the lecture hall. Y/N gathered his notebook and slung his bag over his shoulder, slipping out of his seat just as Nate got held up near the front of the room, laughing at something one of his football teammates had said.

Y/N didn't wait for him. Why would he? He had his own schedule, his own life. Besides, it wasn't like Nate had asked him to wait.

He maneuvered through the mass of students, his mind already on his next class when—

Thud.

He collided into someone, his momentum halted as a firm chest absorbed the impact.

"Shit," Y/N muttered, stepping back quickly. "I really have to stop running into people."

The guy he'd bumped into let out a short chuckle, his hands raising in an easygoing gesture. "No harm done," he said, offering a friendly smile. "Happens in the stampede of post-class freedom."

Y/N exhaled through his nose, shaking his head at himself. "Yeah, apparently I have a talent for it. Sorry about that."

"No worries." The guy shifted his backpack higher on his shoulder before extending a hand. "I'm Aaron, by the way."

Y/N reached out instinctively, shaking his hand. "Y/N—"

"I know," Aaron interrupted, a grin playing at his lips.

Y/N blinked in surprise. "You do?"

Aaron chuckled, tilting his head as if the answer was obvious. "Yeah. You're the Y/N. Star of the track team, campus favorite for breaking records. Kinda hard not to know who you are."

Y/N huffed a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, now I feel like a minor celebrity."

Aaron smirked. "Oh, don't worry. I'm not about to ask for an autograph or anything."

"Good," Y/N teased, adjusting his bag. "My handwriting's terrible."

Aaron let out another laugh, an easy warmth to his demeanor. "Where you headed?"

"Next class," Y/N said, glancing at the clock on his phone. "Bio 201."

Aaron's eyebrows lifted slightly. "No way. I've got that too."

Y/N raised an amused brow. "You sure you don't just know that because you did some secret research on me?"

Aaron grinned, shaking his head. "I promise, total coincidence. But hey, now I have a walking buddy."

Y/N smirked, falling into step beside him as they started down the hall. "Well, let's see if you can keep up, Mr. Football."

Aaron let out a scoff, nudging Y/N's shoulder playfully. "Please. I may not be as fast as you, but I think I can manage walking."

The conversation flowed effortlessly as they walked together, the natural ease between them making Y/N forget the crowded hallways, the pressure of the upcoming class, and the lingering soreness from morning practice.

But what neither of them knew—what neither of them even thought to check—was the sharp, focused gaze watching them from a few feet away.

Nate stood near the door of the lecture hall, having just finished his conversation with his teammate. His easy smirk had disappeared the moment he caught sight of Y/N—his Y/N—talking and laughing with some other guy.

His arms crossed over his chest, jaw tightening slightly as he watched the interaction unfold.

Aaron.

He knew of him. A decent player, decent stats, never really had a reason to pay attention to him before. But now? Now Aaron had his full attention.

And Nate didn't like what he was seeing.

Not one bit.

The hum of conversation filled the hall as students spilled out of Bio 201, most eager to escape the droning lecture and stretch their legs. Y/N emerged alongside Aaron, his hands casually shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as they talked.

The past hour had passed easily, filled with quick banter and stolen glances. Aaron was charming, quick-witted, and confident in a way that made it effortless for Y/N to match his energy.

"So," Aaron said, nudging Y/N's arm playfully. "If you're such a track star, when am I getting VIP seats to one of your meets?"

Y/N arched an eyebrow, tilting his head with mock consideration. "Oh, I don't know," he mused, biting back a smirk. "VIP spots are reserved for special people. What makes you think you qualify?"

Aaron grinned, leaning in slightly. "I guess I'll have to work on that, then."

Y/N hummed, pretending to think. "Mmm. Maybe I'll save you a seat."

Aaron let out a soft laugh, his eyes glinting with something playful—something unmistakably flirtatious. "I'll take what I can get," he replied, his voice dropping just slightly.

The air between them shifted, the flirtation now laced with a subtle tension, a challenge silently hanging between them. Y/N wasn't opposed to letting it linger, to seeing where this could go—

But then the air really shifted.

Because suddenly, a new presence made itself known, stepping right into the space between them like it belonged there.

"Funny," a familiar voice drawled, cool and sharp like a blade sliding into place. "Didn't realize we were handing out VIP passes now."

Y/N didn't even have to turn around to know who it was.

Aaron, however, did—his easy expression shifting as he straightened slightly, clearly taken off guard by the interruption.

Nate stood there, casual as ever, but there was an undeniable weight in his presence. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, his eyes flicking between Y/N and Aaron, his smirk just a little too tight to be playful.

Y/N exhaled through his nose, tilting his head slightly as he looked at Nate, unimpressed. "Didn't realize you were invited to this conversation, QB."

Nate's smirk deepened, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Oh, I don't need an invite," he said smoothly. "I was just passing by and couldn't help but overhear." He turned his attention to Aaron, his expression unreadable but undeniably assessing. "Aaron, right?"

Aaron blinked before nodding. "Yeah. And you're Nate Jacobs."

"Guilty," Nate said, his tone light but laced with something harder beneath the surface. His eyes flicked back to Y/N. "Didn't know you made new friends so quickly, Y/N."

Y/N arched an eyebrow, his smirk not wavering. "I have a lot of talents, Nate."

Nate chuckled, shaking his head slightly before stepping in just a little closer—so subtly that to an outsider, it wouldn't seem like much. But Y/N felt it. He felt the shift, the unspoken territorial energy radiating from Nate like a silent warning.

Aaron glanced between the two of them, clearly picking up on the tension but not yet understanding the full weight of it. "Uh," he started, shifting his bag on his shoulder. "Well, I should probably—"

Y/N, ever the instigator, smirked up at Nate and decided to push.

"You should come to the meet this weekend," he told Aaron smoothly, his voice light and easy, but his eyes locked on Nate's. "It'll be fun."

Aaron hesitated for only a second before nodding. "Yeah. Sounds good."

And just like that, Nate's smirk vanished.

Y/N could feel the shift, the way Nate's entire body tensed beside him, his jaw tightening just slightly. But instead of lashing out, Nate did something even more dangerous—he relaxed.

His smirk returned, but this time, it was slow, lazy, dangerous.

"Oh, yeah," Nate said smoothly, his voice dropping low as he glanced at Y/N. "He should definitely come."

And Y/N had to fight the shiver that ran down his spine.

Because that? That wasn't a smirk of someone backing down.

That was the smirk of someone ready to play.

The door to their dorm slammed shut behind them, the tension from earlier still thick in the air. Y/N barely made it two steps inside before he spun around, arms crossed over his chest, his sharp eyes locked onto Nate.

"Alright," Y/N started, voice clipped, "what the hell was that all about?"

Nate, who had just shrugged off his backpack and tossed it onto his bed, arched an eyebrow like he had no idea what Y/N was talking about. "What was what all about?" he asked casually, stretching out his arms before leaning back against the wall, completely unbothered.

Y/N scoffed, his hands going to his hips as he glared at Nate. "Oh, don't even try that innocent act with me, QB. You know exactly what I'm talking about." He stepped closer, his chin lifting slightly. "You all but crashed my conversation with Aaron like some jealous boyfriend."

Nate smirked, tilting his head as he looked down at Y/N. "Jealous?" he echoed, his tone amused. "Now that's a reach."

Y/N rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "You—" He exhaled sharply, composing himself before leveling Nate with a pointed look. "You interrupted our conversation. You practically put yourself between us like you were staking some kind of claim."

Nate crossed his arms, that smug smirk never leaving his face. "Maybe I just didn't like what I was hearing."

Y/N huffed out a laugh, though there was no humor in it. "Oh, please. What, you didn't like that I was flirting with someone else?" He stepped even closer, pushing at Nate's chest lightly. "That bother you, Jacobs?"

Nate didn't budge—he was too solid, too rooted in place. Instead, his smirk deepened, and he leaned down slightly, getting right in Y/N's space. "You're really fishing for an answer, aren't you?" he murmured, his voice low and smooth, laced with something dangerous.

Y/N's breath hitched for just a second—just long enough for Nate to notice. And the moment he did, his smirk turned absolutely predatory.

"I don't fish," Y/N said finally, regaining his composure. "I just like calling out bullshit when I see it."

"Bullshit?" Nate repeated, his voice still maddeningly calm. He tilted his head, his eyes scanning Y/N's face like he was amused. "So, let me get this straight—you can flirt with whoever you want, but I can't say anything about it?"

Y/N blinked, thrown off for half a second before he scoffed. "You don't get to say anything about it, because as far as I'm concerned, we're just roommates who occasionally fuck."

Something in Nate's expression shifted then, so subtle that most people wouldn't have caught it—but Y/N did.

A flicker of something—irritation? Possession?—crossed Nate's face before it was quickly masked by that ever-present smirk.

"Right," Nate said smoothly, nodding as if the words didn't affect him at all. "Just roommates."

Y/N swallowed, suddenly feeling like he had no control over this conversation anymore. "Exactly," he said, standing his ground. "Which means I can do whatever I want."

Nate let out a slow breath through his nose, shaking his head slightly before taking a step closer—so close that Y/N had to tilt his head to maintain eye contact. "Then do whatever you want," Nate murmured, his voice low and taunting. "Flirt with Aaron. Let him take you out. See if he can make you moan like I do."

Y/N's entire body tensed, his breath catching as Nate's words sent a pulse of something down his spine.

Nate smirked, seeing the reaction. "Yeah," he murmured, voice thick with amusement. "That's what I thought."

Y/N hated how easily Nate could unravel him—how he could turn the entire argument around and make it about this, about them, when Y/N was trying to keep it casual.

But Y/N wasn't going to let Nate win that easily.

So he squared his shoulders, looked Nate dead in the eye, and said, "Maybe I will let him take me out."

Nate's smirk dropped.

It was quick—so quick—but Y/N saw it. Saw the way Nate's jaw clenched, how his fingers flexed slightly at his sides.

But then, just as fast, Nate recovered.

He took a step back, that cocky grin sliding right back into place. "Go ahead," he said, voice lazy, unaffected. "See how that works out for you."

And with that, Nate turned, grabbed a towel, and walked straight into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him like he hadn't just dropped a bomb in the middle of their dorm.

Y/N stood there, his heart pounding, his mind racing.

Because if there was one thing he knew about Nate Jacobs—

He never backed down from a challenge.

However, Y/N had never been the type to back down from a challenge. If Nate thought he could rattle him, if he thought he could get under his skin and win whatever game this was between them—well, he had another thing coming.

Because Y/N wasn't going to let him.

That's why, when the weekend of the track meet rolled around, Y/N didn't hesitate. He knew Nate had been watching him ever since their argument in the dorm, knew that Nate's presence had been looming in the background like a shadow. It was almost amusing, really—how Nate acted so indifferent, so unbothered—but Y/N wasn't stupid.

He felt the way Nate's eyes followed him across campus.

He noticed how Nate's jaw clenched when Y/N got a little too close to Aaron during lunch.

And he definitely caught the way Nate's hands curled into fists when he overheard Aaron casually asking, "So, you wanna grab something to eat after your meet?"

Y/N didn't even hesitate. He smirked, tilting his head slightly as he pretended to consider. "Yeah, sounds fun," he said easily, just loud enough for Nate to hear.

Aaron grinned, oblivious to the fire that had definitely ignited behind them. "Cool," he said, nudging Y/N's shoulder. "It's a date, then."

Y/N didn't correct him.

Because if Nate wanted to act like he didn't care?

Then Y/N would make sure he really didn't care.

The track meet was packed. Spectators lined the bleachers, teammates clustered near the starting lines, and the sharp scent of sweat and adrenaline filled the air. Y/N stood with his team, stretching, rolling out his shoulders, his muscles already buzzing with energy.

He lived for this. The rush of competition, the way everything faded the moment he stepped onto the track—nothing mattered except winning.

But today, something was different.

Because when he glanced toward the bleachers, his eyes immediately found Nate.

Sitting in the middle row, legs spread like he owned the damn place, arms slung lazily over the back of the bench. His face was impassive, unreadable, but his eyes—his eyes were locked onto Y/N with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine.

He shouldn't have cared.

But something about Nate being there—watching him—made his pulse race in a way that had nothing to do with the meet.

Y/N rolled his neck, shaking off the thought. Focus.

The announcer's voice rang out, calling for his event. Y/N stepped forward, adjusting his stance, feeling the familiar burn of anticipation settle in his chest.

He didn't look at Nate again.

But he knew, without a doubt, that Nate was watching every second.

The energy from the track meet hadn't died down, even after the final race was over. The team was buzzing, hyped from their victory, their adrenaline still running high as they spilled out of the stadium in groups, talking and laughing loudly.

Y/N was at the center of it all, sweat still clinging to his skin, his body thrumming with the residual thrill of competition. He loved this feeling—the high of winning, the rush of accomplishment. His teammates clapped him on the back, throwing playful jabs about his speed, about how he'd left the other runners in the dust.

And somewhere in the chaos of celebration, someone suggested food.

"Let's hit up that diner near campus," one of Y/N's teammates said, tossing an arm around his shoulder. "I need a burger and fries. I'm starving."

There was no argument.

And somehow, along the way, the football team got roped into the plans.

Y/N wasn't even sure how it happened—one second, it was just the track guys, and the next, a handful of football players had invited themselves along, their towering figures blending into the group like they belonged there.

Which, of course, meant Nate was there too.

Y/N wasn't surprised.

After all, Nate had been watching him all day. He hadn't spoken to Y/N, hadn't even approached him after the race—but Y/N felt his presence. Every time he glanced toward the bleachers, every time he turned his head slightly during cooldowns, Nate was there. Just sitting. Just watching.

So, of course, he was tagging along now.

Y/N didn't acknowledge him, though. He just kept walking with Aaron beside him, their conversation easy, their shoulders brushing every so often as they made their way to the diner.

If Y/N happened to glance over his shoulder and happened to catch the way Nate was looking at them—his jaw set, his hands shoved deep into his hoodie pockets—well.

That was just coincidence.

The diner was packed by the time they arrived, but somehow, they managed to push a few tables together, turning the place into their own private post-game celebration.

Y/N slid into an empty seat, laughing at something Aaron had said, barely even paying attention to where everyone else was sitting—until he heard a chair scrape across the floor.

And then Nate was dropping into the seat right beside him.

Y/N blinked, caught off guard for half a second. Because wait a minute—

He looked across the table and saw Aaron, now seated directly across from him, a bemused expression on his face.

Aaron frowned, shifting slightly in his seat. "Uh, wasn't I just—"

"Guess not," Nate cut in smoothly, grabbing a menu like nothing was wrong. "Seats are first-come, first served, right?"

Y/N's lips parted slightly as realization dawned. He stole his seat.

Nate had stolen Aaron's fucking seat.

Aaron stared for a second, clearly confused, but then he just shook his head with a light laugh, like he wasn't going to make a big deal out of it. "Right," he muttered, picking up his own menu. "Guess I'll sit here, then."

Y/N's gaze flicked to Nate, narrowing slightly.

Nate didn't look at him. Didn't acknowledge what he just did.

He just leaned back in his chair, one arm resting lazily along the back of Y/N's seat as he skimmed the menu like he hadn't just pulled some petty, possessive bullshit in front of everyone.

Y/N's jaw clenched.

Oh, this was a game now.

Fine.

Game on.

The track team and football players had settled in comfortably, their victory-fueled energy carrying over into dinner. Plates of food were being passed around, drinks refilled, and the chatter was endless.

Y/N, however, was thoroughly engaged in his conversation with Aaron.

Leaning slightly forward, his elbows resting on the table, Y/N smirked as he listened to Aaron talk about an embarrassing moment at one of his recent games. "Wait, you tripped over nothing on the field?" Y/N teased, raising an eyebrow.

Aaron groaned, rubbing his face. "I swear there was a divot in the grass, but of course, nobody believes me. My coach still won't let me live it down."

Y/N chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "I mean, I get it. Falling on your ass mid-play? That's rough."

Aaron pointed a finger at him. "Alright, track star, don't get too cocky. I'd like to see you try dodging three guys while catching a pass and watching your footing."

Y/N smirked, about to fire back—

Until he felt it.

A large, warm hand settling casually on his thigh.

The touch was so casual at first, so light, that Y/N almost didn't react. But then—it moved.

Slow. Deliberate.

Inching higher.

Y/N's breath hitched for a fraction of a second—so brief that nobody but him noticed. He didn't have to look to know exactly whose hand it was.

Fucking Nate.

The bastard didn't even acknowledge what he was doing. He just sat there, pretending to be invested in his food, twirling a fry between his fingers as if his hand wasn't currently sliding up Y/N's thigh under the table.

Y/N swallowed, refusing to react, refusing to give Nate the satisfaction. He turned his attention back to Aaron, keeping his voice perfectly steady. "I think I'd manage just fine," he said, smirking. "Track makes you quick on your feet. Unlike some people."

Aaron laughed, rolling his eyes, but Y/N barely processed it—because Nate's hand was still moving.

Up.

And up.

Y/N clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening around his fork.

And then—enough was enough.

With a quick, decisive movement, Y/N swatted Nate's hand away, shoving it back toward his own damn lap.

Nate finally reacted.

He let out a small, quiet chuckle—one only Y/N could hear. It was low, smug, vibrating in the small space between them.

Y/N shot him a look—sharp, unimpressed.

Nate just grinned, his blue eyes glinting with something dangerous.

The worst part? He didn't even look the slightest bit guilty.

Y/N turned back to Aaron, ignoring the way his skin still burned from Nate's touch. He wasn't going to give Nate the reaction he wanted.

This was a battle of control.

And Y/N was not going to lose.

If Nate wanted to play games, then Y/N was more than happy to remind him that he never lost.

So, while he continued his conversation with Aaron—laughing, teasing, acting as though nothing was out of the ordinary—he let his hand drop beneath the table. Slowly, deliberately, he rested it on Nate's thigh, mirroring the exact move that Nate had pulled just moments ago.

At first, Nate didn't react. He remained lounged in his seat, chewing idly on a fry, his posture exuding casual arrogance.

But then Y/N started to move.

His fingers traced slow, featherlight strokes over the fabric of Nate's jeans, his touch casual—innocent, even. The kind of touch that wouldn't seem out of place if someone glanced their way. But beneath the surface, it was a challenge. A warning.

Nate didn't tense.

Didn't flinch.

Instead—he smirked.

Y/N didn't have to look to know. He could feel the amusement rolling off of Nate in waves, that cocky bastard reveling in the fact that Y/N had engaged with him. That he had reacted.

And then—Nate adjusted himself.

Not in an overt way. No, that wasn't Nate's style.

It was subtle—the slow shift of his hips, the deliberate way he spread his legs just slightly, offering Y/N more access.

Y/N clenched his jaw, keeping his face neutral, not letting it show how that single movement sent a wave of heat coursing through him.

But two could play at that game.

Y/N let his fingers move higher, grazing along the zipper of Nate's jeans, trailing over the hard lines of his thighs. Nate remained still, his breathing unchanged, but Y/N knew he felt it.

And then, without breaking his conversation with Aaron, without faltering once, Y/N took it a step further.

With practiced ease, he slid his fingers to Nate's zipper and pulled it down.

The soft sound of the zipper unfastening was drowned out by the chatter around them, by the clinking of plates and the hum of the diner.

Nate still didn't react—not outwardly.

But Y/N felt the shift.

Felt the way Nate's breath hitched, just barely.

Felt the way his body tensed for the briefest moment before relaxing again, as if daring Y/N to continue.

And Y/N, never one to back down, did.

His hand slipped past the waistband of Nate's boxers, his fingers grazing warm, hardening flesh. The moment he wrapped his fingers around Nate's dick, he felt it twitch in his grasp—growing, stiffening beneath his touch.

A thrill shot through Y/N's spine.

But still—Nate remained calm.

His breathing never changed. His posture never faltered.

But when Y/N squeezed slightly, teasing the sensitive skin with the lightest of touches—that was when Nate finally reacted.

It was subtle—a slow exhale, controlled, measured.

But Y/N felt it.

Felt the way Nate's thigh muscles tensed beneath his palm.

Felt the way Nate's dick pulsed in his grip.

And when Y/N risked a glance, he was met with pure smugness.

Nate's lips were curled into a smirk, his blue eyes sharp and focused as he turned his head slightly toward Y/N.

That look alone sent heat flooding through Y/N's veins.

Because Nate wasn't annoyed.

Wasn't flustered.

He was enjoying this.

Enjoying the fact that Y/N was touching him—that Y/N wanted to touch him.

It pissed Y/N off.

And turned him on.

So, as Aaron continued talking, completely oblivious to the war happening beneath the table, Y/N did the only thing he could do.

He kept going.

Sliding his fingers up and down, slow, teasing, his movements careful but deliberate.

And Nate?

Nate just smirked wider.

Because Y/N had fallen into his trap.

And he knew it.

But just as quickly as Y/N had started—he stopped.

Without warning, Y/N pulled his hand away from Nate's dick, sliding it casually back to his own lap as if nothing had happened. The sudden loss of warmth sent a wave of irritation through Nate, but before he could react, Y/N turned away from him entirely, shifting his attention back to Aaron with an easy, deliberate smile.

"Hey," Y/N said smoothly, tilting his head, "feel like going for a walk?"

Aaron blinked, caught slightly off guard. "Oh—yeah, sure." He glanced around at their half-finished meals. "Right now?"

Y/N nodded, already pushing back his chair, stretching his arms as if he wasn't just fisting Nate's dick under the table a second ago. "Yeah, I could use some air." His tone was casual, effortless—like this wasn't a power move.

But it was.

And Nate knew it.

Because Y/N didn't just pull away—he was making a statement.

Aaron grinned, oblivious to the battle happening right beside him. "Alright, let's go."

Nate clenched his jaw.

His fingers curled tightly around his fork, his grip so strong he could probably snap it in half if he wanted to. His body was still thrumming with heat, still aching from the way Y/N had just been touching him. He could still feel the ghost of Y/N's fingers wrapped around his dick, still felt the way his body had been climbing toward something more.

Only to be denied.

And now Y/N was just going to get up and walk away with some other guy?

Not just any guy—Aaron?

Nate felt something dark coil in his chest. Something possessive.

He didn't move, didn't speak.

But the moment Y/N and Aaron walked past him, heading toward the diner's exit, Nate turned his head ever so slightly—just enough to watch them leave.

And just as Y/N stepped through the door, he cast a glance back at Nate, his smirk devilish.

Nate's jaw ticked.

Oh, so that's how Y/N wanted to play it?

Fine.

Two could play this game.

And Nate never lost.

The cool evening air wrapped around them as Y/N and Aaron strolled side by side, their footsteps falling in sync against the pavement. The city lights flickered in the distance, casting a warm glow over the quiet streets as they walked away from the crowded diner.

For the first few minutes, their conversation was light—casual teasing, easy banter, small laughs exchanged under the dim glow of the streetlights. But then Aaron's tone shifted, his curiosity evident in his next question.

"So... what's the deal with you and Jacobs?"

Y/N nearly stumbled but caught himself before it was noticeable. He glanced at Aaron, raising an eyebrow. "Nate? What do you mean?"

Aaron smirked knowingly, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "Come on, Y/N. You can't tell me you didn't notice the way he was looking at you back there. And don't even get me started on the seat-stealing stunt."

Y/N let out a scoff, rolling his eyes. "That was just Nate being an ass. He's like that with everyone."

Aaron chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah. That wasn't just him being an ass. That was territorial."

Y/N hesitated for a split second before quickly composing himself. "There's nothing going on between us," he said, shrugging. "We're just roommates."

Aaron gave him a sideways glance, as if trying to gauge whether he was telling the truth. "Just roommates?"

Y/N smirked. "Just roommates."

Aaron's eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, then he grinned. "Good," he said simply.

Y/N arched an eyebrow. "Good?"

Aaron nodded. "Yeah, because if there was something going on, I'd have to rethink what I was about to say next."

Y/N tilted his head slightly, curiosity piqued. "And what exactly were you about to say?"

Aaron turned toward him fully, slowing his steps as they neared the entrance to Y/N's dorm building. "I was going to say," he said, voice dropping slightly, "that I want to take you out."

Y/N blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He wasn't surprised necessarily—Aaron had been flirting with him all night—but hearing it spoken so directly still sent a jolt of unexpected warmth through him.

A date.

An actual date.

Not a game. Not a chase. Not the tangled mess of mixed signals that Nate constantly threw his way.

Something simple. Something normal.

Y/N hesitated for a brief second before offering a small, genuine smile. "That so?"

Aaron nodded. "Yeah. So what do you say?"

Y/N exhaled softly, glancing up at the dormitory doors before looking back at Aaron. "I say..." He paused, letting the tension build for a moment before smirking. "Ask me properly tomorrow."

Aaron laughed, shaking his head. "Alright, alright. I'll do that."

They stopped just outside the entrance, standing close enough that Y/N could feel the warmth radiating from Aaron's body despite the cool air.

Then, without much hesitation, Aaron leaned in.

Y/N knew it was coming, saw the way Aaron's gaze flickered to his lips before closing the distance, giving Y/N the perfect opportunity to pull away if he wanted

to.

But he didn't.

Instead, he let Aaron press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips, the touch light yet confident, like a promise for something more.

When Aaron finally pulled back, Y/N could still feel the ghost of the kiss tingling on his lips.

"Goodnight, Y/N," Aaron murmured with a grin.

Y/N huffed a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Night, Aaron."

With that, Aaron stepped back, giving him one last glance before turning and walking away, disappearing down the dimly lit street.

Y/N stood there for a moment longer, exhaling slowly before finally stepping inside the building.

And as he walked toward his dorm, one thought nagged at the back of his mind.

He should feel excited.

And yet, all he could think about... was what Nate would do when he found out.

As soon as Y/N stepped inside the dorm, he let out a slow breath, rolling his shoulders as he stripped off his jacket and tossed it onto his bed. The air inside was noticeably warmer than the cool evening outside, but something else made the space feel heavy—something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up before he even turned around.

Nate was there.

Sitting on his own bed, elbows resting on his knees, his jaw tight, his eyes dark and unreadable.

Y/N had barely taken two steps toward his dresser to grab some fresh clothes for his shower when Nate's voice cut through the air.

"Where did you and Aaron go?"

Y/N paused, turning slightly to glance over his shoulder. He arched an eyebrow, his lips quirking in amusement. "Excuse me?"

Nate's gaze was steady, sharp. "You heard me," he said, voice level but laced with something simmering beneath the surface. "Where'd you go?"

Y/N scoffed, shaking his head as he grabbed a towel from his dresser. "Not your business, QB."

That answer wasn't good enough for Nate.

In a blink, he was standing, his height and presence taking up way more space than should have been possible. He didn't move closer, but he didn't have to. The weight of his stare was enough.

"Y/N," he said, his voice lower now, more deliberate. "You are my business."

Y/N let out a short, sharp laugh, turning fully now to face Nate. "Oh, am I?" he mocked, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's funny. Because last I checked, we were just roommates who occasionally fuck."

Nate's expression didn't shift—at least, not in an obvious way. But something flickered in his eyes, something that told Y/N his words had landed exactly where he wanted them to.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence stretched between them, thick and charged, a standoff neither was willing to back down from.

Then, slowly, Nate took a step forward.

Y/N didn't move.

Another step.

Y/N stood his ground.

Nate stopped just a breath away from him, his voice quiet but firm as he said, "You know it's more than that."

Y/N swallowed.

He hated how those words made his heart stutter, how they sent a thrill down his spine even as he fought to keep his face impassive.

So, instead of acknowledging it, he pushed back.

"Do I?" Y/N tilted his head, his smirk sharp, challenging. "Because all I remember is you saying you were straight."

Nate's jaw clenched, and there it was again—that flicker of something, something he was fighting hard to keep buried.

But Y/N saw it.

And that was all the confirmation he needed.

With a smirk, he stepped around Nate, brushing past him deliberately as he walked toward the bathroom. "Now, if you'll excuse me," he threw over his shoulder, "I've got a shower to take."

And with that, he disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Nate standing in the middle of their dorm—seething, breathing hard, and definitely not as in control as he wanted to be.

The steady stream of hot water cascaded over Y/N's shoulders, soothing the lingering tension in his muscles as steam filled the small dorm bathroom. It was peaceful, the kind of solitude he needed after the long day—the adrenaline of the track meet, the mind games with Nate, and the unexpected kiss from Aaron.

Aaron.

Y/N exhaled through his nose, tilting his head back under the spray. He shouldn't be thinking about it. It wasn't a big deal. It was just a kiss—a normal kiss—from a guy who actually wanted him in a way that wasn't shrouded in ego and possessiveness.

But for some reason, he knew it wasn't really Aaron he was thinking about.

The door creaked open.

Y/N's eyes snapped open instantly, water running down his face as his body tensed. The only other person who had access to this bathroom was—

The shower curtain was yanked back slightly, and before Y/N could even process what was happening, Nate was stepping inside, completely unbothered by the invasion of personal space.

Y/N blinked, half in disbelief. "Are you serious right now?"

Nate didn't answer.

He just stood there—completely naked, broad frame towering over Y/N, his blue eyes dark and unreadable through the steam.

Y/N let out a sharp breath, immediately turning back to the water as if Nate wasn't standing there with him. "I don't have time for this, Nate," he muttered, grabbing the soap and lathering it over his chest. "I actually came in here to shower, not deal with whatever this is."

Nate ignored the dismissal completely. "We need to talk."

Y/N snorted, shaking his head as he scrubbed his arms. "No, you need to talk. I don't have anything to say."

The tension in the air thickened.

Y/N felt Nate shift closer, the heat from his body contrasting against the water. "Bullshit," Nate said, his voice low but firm. "There's plenty to say."

Y/N rolled his eyes, refusing to look at him. "Not unless you're finally dropping your damn pride and admitting what we both already know."

That made Nate pause.

Y/N could feel him staring, could sense the tightness in his posture.

But still, he didn't stop. He grabbed his shampoo, squeezing some into his palm as if Nate wasn't standing there, waiting for an answer to a question Y/N hadn't even asked yet.

Seconds stretched between them, thick and heavy with unspoken words.

Then—

Nate moved.

Before Y/N could react, he was being pinned against the cool tiles of the shower wall, a sharp gasp leaving his lips as Nate's wet hands gripped his waist, pressing their bodies flush against each other.

"Fuck you," Nate muttered, his voice dangerously low.

Y/N smirked, despite the way his breath hitched at the sudden closeness. "That's not an admission, QB."

Nate's fingers dug into his waist, his jaw clenched tight. "You really think I'm gonna stand by and let you act like none of this means anything?" His voice was rough, strained with something Y/N couldn't quite place.

Y/N narrowed his eyes. "You're the one who refuses to call it what it is."

Nate's breathing was heavy, his chest rising and falling against Y/N's own. He stared at him for a long moment, like he was trying to will the words out, but they stayed stuck—trapped beneath layers of ego and fear and denial.

Finally, Y/N scoffed, shaking his head. "That's what I thought."

He moved to push past him, but Nate didn't let go.

"You are my business," Nate said again, voice quieter this time.

Y/N exhaled through his nose, looking at him now—really looking at him. Nate's usual cocky smirk was gone, replaced by something raw, something vulnerable.

For the first time, Y/N thought—maybe—Nate actually meant it.

But words weren't enough.

Not yet.

Y/N tilted his head, studying him. "Then prove it."

The challenge hung between them, steam curling around their bodies as water continued to cascade down their skin.

And for once—Nate didn't have a comeback.

Y/N had had enough.

The heat of the shower wasn't the only thing suffocating him—the tension between him and Nate was just as thick, just as overwhelming. The water still ran down his body, but all he could focus on was the weight of Nate's stare, the way his strong grip still lingered against his waist, like he wasn't ready to let go.

Too bad.

Because Y/N was done playing this game.

He pushed against Nate's chest, forcing space between them as he turned toward the curtain, reaching for it. "I'm done with this conversation, Nate."

"No," Nate said firmly, reaching out as if he was going to stop him again. "We're not—"

Y/N cut him off before he could even try.

"You know what's funny?" he said, looking over his shoulder. "Aaron asked me on a date tonight."

That shut Nate up real quick.

Y/N saw the way his body tensed instantly, the way his grip on the tile beside him tightened.

But Nate didn't speak. Didn't react.

So Y/N kept going.

"And you know what?" Y/N continued, turning around fully now, ignoring the way water still streamed down both of them. "I might just go."

Nate's jaw clenched.

Y/N smirked, but it wasn't a real one. It was sharp, laced with irritation, with frustration, with something undeniably real.

"Because unlike you," Y/N pressed, stepping closer, "Aaron actually knows what he wants. He's sure of it. He can actually admit it without all this back-and-forth bullshit."

Nate's eyes were burning into his.

Y/N could see the way his muscles tensed, could feel the way the energy in the room shifted.

But still—Nate said nothing.

And that? That pissed Y/N off more than anything.

So he exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he turned back toward the curtain. "Exactly what I thought."

But just as he pulled it open—

"You haven't admitted anything either."

Nate's voice was low, rough, but the words hit.

Y/N froze.

He felt Nate step closer, could sense the heat of his body pressing against his back.

"You keep saying I'm the one avoiding it," Nate murmured, voice thick, "but you haven't admitted a damn thing either."

Y/N swallowed, his fingers tightening around the curtain.

Nate leaned in just slightly, his breath warm against the damp skin of Y/N's neck.

"You keep pushing me to say it," Nate continued, voice barely above a whisper. "But you haven't said what this is either."

Y/N's chest tightened.

Because... fuck.

Nate wasn't wrong.

He hadn't admitted it—not out loud, not in a way that made it real.

And suddenly, the air between them felt heavier than ever.

For the first time since this entire game started... Y/N wasn't sure what to say.

He stood frozen, his grip tightening around the shower curtain, water still dripping from his hair, his breath coming just a little too fast. The steam curled around them, making the space feel smaller, more charged.

Nate was still behind him, too close, his breath ghosting against the damp skin of Y/N's shoulder. He had thrown the challenge out there, forcing Y/N to face the one thing he'd been trying to avoid.

And Y/N hated him for it.

He exhaled sharply, turning around to face Nate, their bodies nearly touching in the confined space. His eyes met Nate's, and for once, there was no smirk, no teasing, no games. Just truth.

"You wanna hear it?" Y/N asked, his voice quieter than before, but firm. "Fine. I do like you."

Nate's lips parted slightly, like he hadn't actually expected Y/N to say it.

Y/N continued, stepping even closer, owning his words.

"I do have feelings for you, Nate," he said, eyes locked onto Nate's like a challenge. "And yeah, I love messing with you. I love the chase, I love pissing you off, I love the way you look at me when you think I don't notice." His voice dropped slightly, more vulnerable now. "And I won't lie—the sex is great. But..." He shook his head, his fingers curling slightly. "I'm not here for just that."

Nate swallowed, his blue eyes dark and unreadable, but Y/N saw something flicker behind them.

"I don't do half-assed feelings," Y/N went on, his voice steady but serious. "I'm not going to sit around while you figure out what you think you want, while you pretend this is just some game. Because I don't play unless I know there's a finish line."

Nate was silent.

Y/N let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "So unless you're done messing around—unless you're actually willing to be something—then don't stand here acting like you care who I go out with."

The words hung between them.

Nate's throat bobbed as he swallowed, his hands flexing at his sides.

For the first time, he wasn't smirking. He wasn't throwing some sarcastic retort back.

He just stared at Y/N.

And Y/N waited.

Because this was the moment.

Either Nate was in... or he wasn't.

And Y/N wasn't going to wait forever to find out.

#x male reader #gay #nate jacobs x male reader #jacob elordi x male reader #jacob elordi #nate jacobs

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lovezbrownies · 1 day ago

Text

The Science of Love.

General Masterlist - Julie's Masterlist

Synopsis: Julie McCanister never thought of marriage before, until her nosy coworker kept mocking her and telling her that her dalring should break up with her for waiting so long. And now she's filled with fear of that actually happening.

PAIRING: Yandere!Mad Scientist x GN!Reader

Warnings: My tamest work so far, very fluffy.

Your girlfriend, Julie, had been acting… strange. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it started, but you’d been noticing it for weeks now. The once calm and collected Julie McCanister—always the picture of professionalism—had spiraled into something unrecognizable. The house had become a reflection of her state: a chaos of unfinished projects, half-drawn equations, and scattered papers. It was like everything in her world had turned upside down.

Her usually voluminous hair, the kind that always looked effortlessly messy but somehow perfect, was now a frizzy, unkempt tangle. The dark bags under her eyes had deepened by several shades, and the vibrant spark in her gaze had dulled to a weary exhaustion. She barely seemed to sleep, let alone eat.

For the past month, she’d been consumed by something. You weren’t sure what. You’d caught her muttering to herself, her mind locked in a frantic loop. The lab, once her sanctuary, had been abandoned in favor of the living room whiteboard, where she scribbled in a feverish frenzy—random buildings, nonsensical equations, half-solved problems.

The strangest part? She hadn’t gone into work for two whole weeks. Julie, the meticulous scientist who lived by her schedule, had thrown it all out the window. She was clearly struggling, and yet, she refused to tell you what was going on. The stress radiated off her, but when you tried to ask, she just shut you out.

“No, no, no. I must finish this on my own. No help. If I don’t, it’ll ruin everything,” she snapped one evening, her voice sharp and tight.

You were taken aback, the sting of her words lingering longer than it should have. Julie had never been rude to you. Blunt, yes. But never rude. She’d always appreciated your small contributions, those little comments that lightened her mood or gave her a fresh perspective. A quick kiss, a grin, and she’d be off again, solving the puzzle in her mind. But this time… this time was different.

Her refusal to let you in, her coldness, felt like an impenetrable wall slowly rising between the two of you, and it hurt more than you were willing to admit. But still, you remained steadfast in your desire to help her through whatever this was. You found yourself rushing after her, tidying up the chaos she’d left behind: collecting scattered papers, clearing away empty coffee mugs that once overflowed with caffeine-fueled desperation, and lining up a fresh batch of markers next to the whiteboard. You organized everything neatly, anticipating the moment her current marker would run dry, hoping it would keep her mind from snapping back to frustration.

You did all of this for her, not knowing that the very thing causing her to unravel was, in fact, you.

It wasn’t an insult, not at all. But the source of her stress was wrapped up in a decision she hadn’t yet found the courage to make. Julie McCanister, the logical, no-nonsense scientist who trusted only facts and cold calculations, was planning to propose to you.

For over a month now, she’d been stewing over it—over how you might react, over whether you’d even want it. You always told her the same thing: that you didn’t need a ring, that your love for each other didn’t require some grand symbol. And yet, Julie had seen you. She had caught those fleeting glances, the way you’d unconsciously eye the rings of friends and even her colleagues, the way your fingers would linger on your own hand as if imagining something more.

It all started when one of her colleagues—never one to filter their thoughts—had dropped a bombshell in the middle of the break room one afternoon.

“You’re telling me you two have been friends for over twenty years, lovers for another eight–almost nine– and you still haven’t proposed?! Jesus, McCanister, no offense, but even I would’ve broken up with you by now!”

That comment, as casual and offhand as it had been, had hit Julie like a freight train. Her colleague’s words had taken root in her mind, burrowing into her thoughts until they grew into a full-blown obsession. Could you really be content without that symbol of commitment? Or had she, in her logical, methodical mind, missed something crucial—something that you longed for, even if you didn’t say it out loud?

The thought—the mere possibility—of you breaking up with her sent a jolt of panic coursing through her veins. The idea of you telling her you’d waited long enough, that you couldn’t bear to spend another moment in a relationship without the symbol of commitment, the ring, gnawed at her insides.

The image of you walking away, seeking someone who would offer you the engagement you deserved, was almost too much to bear. It was as if the very foundation of her world had cracked, leaving her scrambling for something solid to hold onto.

The panic had hit her like a tidal wave, crashing down without warning, sweeping her up in its relentless pull. It came just hours after her colleague’s offhand comment, that careless remark that had burrowed deep into her mind, festering in her thoughts as she tried to work in her lab. Her heart had pounded erratically, and her breath had come in sharp, shallow gasps. The thought of losing you, of not being able to give you what you wanted, what you might secretly need, had thrown her into a complete spiral.

You’d never directly said anything about wanting to get married, right? So it was okay if she waited, delayed it just a little longer, wasn’t it? After all, you hadn’t complained. You were patient with her, understanding of her eccentricities and her logical nature.

But then again, maybe you had been communicating something to her, something she hadn’t picked up on. Maybe you’d been dropping subtle hints that you wanted more, that you were aching for that next step, but Julie had failed to notice. She’d never been good at deciphering emotional cues, not like she should be.

Her lack of empathy had caused its fair share of arguments when you first started dating. Back then, she’d been almost robotic in her understanding of emotions—practical, yes, but cold, distant even. She could analyze problems, but she struggled with people, with their feelings. She had hurt you once, unintentionally, because she hadn’t understood that sometimes, what you needed wasn’t a solution or a quick fix, but simply to be seen and heard.

But losing you had never been an option.

That was the moment she decided. Valentine’s Day. One month. That was how long she had to plan the perfect proposal, one so flawlessly executed that you’d fall in love with her all over again.

It had been years since the two of you had truly celebrated Valentine’s Day—there was no need anymore. You knew each other too well, had been together for so long that the usual romantic clichés had lost their luster. But even still, there was one tradition you never abandoned. Every year, without fail, you and Julie made sure to pick up a box of those limited-time Valentine’s cupcakes from your favorite bakery. They only came around once a year, and without even discussing it, you both always made time to get them.

And so, Julie decided: that was how she’d start the proposal.

That was two months ago. And now, Valentine’s Day was after tomorrow.

Everything was ready—perfectly orchestrated, down to the very last detail. She had planned every step of the day, every meal, every location, even the outfits you’d wear. The calculations had been finalized days ago. Every possible outcome had been accounted for.

She had even hired photographers. Fourteen of them, stationed at every location on her itinerary.

Most of them had tried to talk her down, to reason with her. “You only need one, maybe two at most. Fourteen is excessive.” But Julie wouldn’t hear it. She needed options. She had no way of predicting when the moment would strike—when she’d finally gather the courage to get down on one knee. Maybe it would happen in a spontaneous burst of emotion, or maybe she’d panic and delay it until the very last possible second.

She didn’t know.

But what she did know was that this needed to be perfect.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she looked put together. The frizzy, untamed waves that had practically become a permanent fixture of her appearance had been smoothed back to their usual controlled state. The dark, sleep-deprived circles beneath her eyes remained, but they no longer seemed to weigh her down.

Her pants—those meticulously ironed slacks she refused to let you touch out of fear you’d ruin the perfect crease—looked freshly pressed, as though she had actually taken the time to care for herself this morning. The sight alone was enough to make you stare, but it was the look on her face that truly stunned you.

A smile. Not her usual smug, self-satisfied smirk. Not the subtle twitch of her lips she gave when she found something mildly amusing. This was giddy. Breathless. Eyes-bright-with-excitement kind of giddy. The kind of smile you could count on one hand the number of times you had seen before. It was beautiful—so achingly rare that for a moment, you found yourself simply staring, wanting to commit every detail to memory before it inevitably faded.

And then, before you could even think to ask what had her in such a good mood, she leaned in, pressing a quick kiss against your lips, her words brushing warmly against your skin.

“I’m going to get the perfect outfit for tomorrow. I will be back in approximately one hour and forty-eight minutes.”

Then, just like that, she was gone, still pulling her coat on as she rushed out the door, leaving you sitting there, stunned and thoroughly perplexed.

True to her word, exactly an hour and forty-eight minutes later, the front door swung open with purpose. Julie stepped inside with the same air of confidence she carried after solving an equation no one else could, only this time, instead of a clipboard full of notes, she was carrying two long suit bags draped over her back. They hung from her fingers with a sense of reverence, as if she were handling something of great importance, and if you hadn’t already been confused before, the sight of her now only made your curiosity grow tenfold.

“I am home,” she announced, matter-of-factly, as though she hadn’t just spent the past month acting like a woman possessed. “Follow me, darling, I need to show you what I got us for Valentine’s celebration tomorrow.”

Your confusion only deepened, but you found yourself rising to your feet regardless, trailing after her down the hall, unable to shake the feeling that whatever she had planned, it was big. The last time she had put this much effort into a surprise had been your birthday four years ago, when she had spent weeks secretly building you a fully automated coffee station that catered to your every preference. The thought made something warm settle in your chest, and though you still had no idea what was going on, you knew one thing for certain.

Whenever Julie remembered—I have a darling waiting for me at home, waiting to be spoiled—it became an immutable fact, an unshakable priority that overrode all else. It wasn’t an obligation, nor was it something she did out of guilt or routine; it was simply what had to be done. And Julie McCanister never did anything halfway.

She went out of her way to spoil you, to dote on you in ways both grand and imperceptibly small, from gestures that defied what any average person could accomplish to the simplest, quietest acts of devotion. If something as insignificant as your favorite mug so much as chipped, she would already have a replacement ordered before you even had the chance to sigh over the damage. If you made an offhand comment about a book you wanted to read, she would somehow, somehow, acquire an early edition before it even hit the shelves.

No matter how many decades passed, no matter how many lifetimes she spent by your side, Julie McCanister would never, ever get used to your presence enough to forget to bring you something on the way home. It was a habit ingrained into her, a quiet ritual of devotion—one that never wavered, never dulled, no matter how many times she indulged in it.

And tonight was no different.

As she unzipped the first bag, your breath hitched at the sight inside. The fabric was pristine, luxurious, the kind of material that practically screamed money. Even without touching it, you could tell it was expensive—too expensive. Your first instinct was to protest, to ask her what in the world she was thinking spending this much on a simple Valentine’s date, but before you could even get a full sentence out, Julie did what Julie always did when she decided she didn’t want to hear your objections.

She kissed you.

It was brief, chaste, but effective all the same, successfully rendering you speechless as she pulled back, an infuriatingly pleased look on her face. “This, my dear,” she murmured, fingers ghosting over the fabric with quiet satisfaction, “is for our Valentine’s date tomorrow. This one is yours.” She gestured to the outfit in front of you before moving to the second bag. “And this one—” she unzipped it, revealing an equally extravagant ensemble, “—is mine.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, simply standing in mutual appreciation of the matching set. The colors, the detailing, the careful selection of fabric—it was all so deliberate, so well thought out that you almost didn’t notice at first. But then your gaze drifted, taking in the shades Julie had chosen for herself, and realization struck.

Julie hadn’t tailored the suit to be her usual dark tones. No navy blues, no deep greys or blacks—nothing that so much as hinted at her signature cool, muted aesthetic. Instead, every inch of her chosen outfit was composed of your favorite colors. Your favorite shade, your favorite tone, colors that weren’t hers but were undeniably you. And yet, strangely enough, the outfit didn’t look out of place in comparison to her usual style, small vest, neat button-up, long coat, and her beloved suit pants.

Then your eyes flickered back to your outfit, and the realization settled deeper. It was a perfect reversal—the colors, the undertones, the subtle details. It was Julie. She had chosen shades that reflected her own preferences, yet they weren’t imposed on you; instead, they complemented you flawlessly, as if she had studied every nuance of your features, your complexion, your hair, ensuring each choice enhanced rather than overwhelmed.

It was… intimate in a way you hadn’t expected. A quiet, unspoken devotion woven into fabric and color.

You turned to her, the weight of understanding pressing against your ribs, words forming but failing before they could leave your lips.

Before she could utter a word, you moved, closing the space between you in an instant. Your arms wrapped tightly around her neck as you buried yourself in her warmth, the force of your embrace making her stagger slightly. A quiet gasp slipped past her lips, her hands instinctively finding your waist, steadying both of you. Then, slowly, the tension melted away. Her fingers curled against you, her hold firm but gentle. The corners of her lips lifted into the softest smile—small, but genuine. Content.

Julie let out a slow breath, allowing herself to sink into the embrace, her arms tightening around you as she pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. A silent promise. A quiet I love you.

And yet, you still hadn’t noticed the small, unmistakable bulge in the pocket of the pants hanging nearby—the subtle outline of a box no bigger than her palm. A box too small to contain anything other than a ring.

Julie’s gaze flickered toward it, fingers twitching slightly at her side. The weight of the moment pressed down on her, gnawing at the edges of her control, threatening to unravel everything she had so carefully built. The urge to reach for it was unbearable, pressing against her restraint like an unchecked variable in an equation she hadn’t accounted for. It would be easy—too easy—to pull it out now, to let it unfold naturally, to drop to one knee before either of you had time to process it.

But no. She had to contain it—hold herself together, despite the undeniable urge to drop to her knees and slip that ring onto your finger right there. The weight of the moment, of the feelings that swelled up inside her, was pressing so hard against her restraint. The yearning to act on it, to do something grand, something that would make you look at her with wide eyes and glowing affection—it was almost unbearable.

And yet, she forced herself to stop. She couldn’t rush it. The day ahead, the moments she had painstakingly planned, would be perfect. Her mind was made up: this was going to be the epitome of romance. A grand gesture, something so profound and sweeping, that after it, you’d be overwhelmed—deliriously in love with her, swarming her with kisses and praises, calling her the most romantic soul alive. She was confident. At least 86% confident. Maybe 85.5%.

But the half-percent that lingered at the back of her mind didn’t matter. She had a plan, and she was going to see it through. She just had to hold on a little longer.

Eventually the two of you pulled away from the embrace and spent the rest of the day as domestically as possible. With the past month Julie had been so obsessive over this entire proposal she had ended up accidentally neglecting you and left you there to collect dust as she planned the perfect proposal. So today, the day before her big plan, she decided to completely pamper you with home-cooked meals, cuddling, and as much as you can handle with her lust.

The morning dawned slower than usual, but there was an unfamiliar softness to the air. The world outside seemed still, almost as if it, too, was waiting for what the day would bring. You woke to the sound of birds outside the window and the soft rustling of fabric from beside you. You didn’t recognize it at first, still heavy with the weight of sleep, but as your eyes cracked open, there she was. Julie McCanister, the apple of your eyes.

She kneeled beside the bed, her hands moving so carefully, so deliberately as she adjusted the blankets around you, making sure you were tucked in just right. Her fingers hovered over your face for a second, so hesitant before she laid her fingers upon the curve of your jaw.

The look in her eyes was… different. It wasn’t the usual confident gaze she held, the one that felt like she already knew the next step in everything. No, today, there was something softer. Something almost… tender. And when her eyes flicked to yours, she smiled so lightly, so gently, that it almost made your heart skip a beat.

God, this was strange—Julie smiling so early in the morning, looking down at you with a softness that felt almost foreign. Vulnerability wasn’t something she wore often, and yet here it was, clear in the way her lips curled just slightly, in the way her gaze lingered on you like you were something fragile, something precious. Julie never liked expressing emotions, never let them settle before she dissected them, rationalized them, and locked them away before they could take root. To her, emotions were unpredictable, inefficient—a problem to be solved rather than indulged.

But you were the exception. You always had been. Because when you smiled, when your laughter filled the air, it made something flutter deep in her chest, made the logic and calculations in her mind blur at the edges. And against all odds, she didn’t mind.

“Good morning,” she whispered, as if the words themselves had to be savored. She took her hand back, now laying her head on her arms, which were crossed over one another on the edge of the bed. Through the dim lighting of the room, the sun peeking through the blinds, you can see her entrancing green eyes gaze deeply into your face, studying every small crevice of your face like it her only purpose in life, “Did you sleep well?”

You could’nt help but be incredibly flustered, this is so incredibly intimate, inin ways you’ve never experienced before with Julie, this had so much love fueled behind it you almost wanted to punch yourself and make sure you weren’t dreaming. Although delayed by your day dreaming you nodded, still trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, rubbing furiously at your eyes.

But something in her gaze kept you rooted to the spot. There was something almost… tender about the way she looked at you. Julie wasn’t one to be sentimental, and yet her eyes held an intensity that made your breath hitch, like she was seeing you for the first time all over again.

Before you could question it, she moved—slow, deliberate, closing the space between you with the kind of confidence that sent a shiver down your spine. Her fingers ghosted along your jaw, tilting your chin ever so slightly, and for a moment, all you could hear was the quiet, measured cadence of her breathing.

The desperate look on your face was undeniable, and you knew it. You felt utterly vulnerable, biting at your lower lip, your legs pressed together as if that simple friction could ease the ache inside. Your eyes darted between her gaze and her lips, pleading without words, but every inch of you screamed for her touch, for her kiss. You couldn’t help it. You felt so exposed, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from her.

Julie, of course, knew you far too well. She saw through you—your every subtle shift, every hesitant movement, every unspoken need. And, as always, she loved you more for it. The way you were so unguarded, so unashamed in your longing for her, only made her want to indulge you.

Julie chuckled, her laughs always an airy laugh, she leaned in as close as she could and whispered into your ear, “You don’t have to say a word.”

Her breath was hot against your skin, her hands sliding back to rest against your neck, pushing herself even closer until her chest was flush against yours. The space between you no longer existed; only the heat of her touch, the magnetic pull that seemed to draw you to her without effort. Her lips brushed yours, slow and teasing, as if savoring the moment before finally, finally, she closed the gap.

Her kiss was everything you'd been craving—intense and consuming. Julie didn’t just kiss you; she enveloped you, devoured you, in a way that left your head spinning. Her hands traced the outline of your jaw, the back of your neck, grounding you in the dizzying sensation of being wanted, needed, by her. And you—desperate and greedy for her touch—let yourself melt into it, feeling the weight of her affection, her control, pressing against you.

Her kiss deepened, her fingers tangling in your hair, holding you in place as if to remind you just how much she loved having you like this. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a claim, a promise of all the things she was willing to give you... and the things she wanted in return.

Every kiss felt like an indulgence, a slow burn that wrapped around your heart, leaving you breathless, craving more.

Julie never touched you like this—not without some teasing remark to accompany it, not without rushing off immediately for a long trip for work, but today? Today was different. She was drinking you in, her touch featherlight but unrelenting, lingering longer than necessary in a way that made your heart stutter. And this time, it wasn’t without a single string attached, no tease, no sex, no rushing. Julie was taking her time, and she didn’t want to take too long at the same time.

Finally, she pulled away, but the connection between you lingered—between your parted lips, a thin strand of saliva stretched, evidence of just how deep you had fallen into her. The sight alone sent heat rushing to your face, and in your flustered panic, you slapped a hand over your mouth, cutting off the string before it could betray you further.

Julie chuckled, low and amused, and that only made it worse. How was she so composed? So utterly unshaken, when you felt like your heart was about to beat out of your chest? It was almost unfair. This was the same Julie who was a sexless virgin before the two of you got together, who acted like she’d never touched another person before intimately.

Julie’s chuckle had barely faded when she suddenly stopped, her body going still against yours. The warmth of her breath, still uneven from the kiss, fanned across your lips, but something in her expression had shifted. Her usual self-assured confidence, the sharp wit always dancing in her eyes, wavered—just for a second.

Her hands, still cradling your face, tensed slightly, fingers pressing into your skin as if grounding herself in the reality of you. Her pupils dilated, flickering between your lips and the flush that still painted your cheeks, before settling—hard, determined—on your eyes.

You looked so at peace, so beautifully messy, so… Perfect. Julie couldn’t stop staring, and she felt so incredibly ashamed to be so forward, but of course, she couldn’t help it. You were always cute, her dear darling, making the cutest noises, lips always parted for her, plump and red always from her ministrations, from her need to constantly have her own on yours.

Yet you never rejected her, you never looked at her strangely, even though her current behavior was strange, that you’d never seen her act like this, you embraced her. You let her do as she pleased because you loved her enough to trust her. And that fact alone had poor Julie’s heart jumping from joy and fear. Joy of how in love she is with you, and fear from what she’s about to say.

"Marry me."

What the fuck am I doing! This is supposed to be done after the orchestra! Not now!

Julie had never been the type to lose control—not in her work, not in her life, not in anything. Every action, every decision was calculated, planned, set in motion with a logic so airtight that nothing could shake her. And yet, here she was, staring at you, heart pounding so violently that she thought she might be sick, and for the first time in forever, she had no plan.

The words had slipped out before she could stop them, raw and unfiltered, bypassing the careful walls she always kept so firmly in place. Marry me. God, what was she thinking? Was she thinking at all? Her mind scrambled to justify it, to piece together the frayed edges of her self-control, but there was nothing—just you. You, looking at her with wide, startled eyes, lips still swollen from her kiss, breath coming in these soft little gasps that made her want to drown in you all over again.

Your breath hitched, your lips parting—but no sound came. For a second, you wondered if you'd misheard, if your mind was playing tricks on you, distorting reality in the haze of Julie’s touch. But she was still staring at you, still gripping you, and there was nothing uncertain about the way she’d said it.

Still, your voice barely came out above a whisper. "What...?"

Your mind barely had time to process the words before the weight of them came crashing down, sending your thoughts into a frantic, uncontrollable spiral. Marry me. No hesitation. No warning. No carefully planned moment. Just Julie, staring at you with an intensity that made your heart feel like it was about to shatter apart from how much you loved her.

It didn’t feel real. None of this did. Your chest was so tight with happiness it almost hurt, but it was tangled up in something else—something so overwhelming that it almost sent you reeling. This was Julie. Julie, who planned every move with cold, calculating precision. Julie, who had never been impulsive, who measured everything with logic, who didn’t let herself get carried away. And yet, she had just blurted out a proposal like it was the most natural thing in the world. It didn’t add up. It couldn’t.

Your hands trembled slightly as you stared at her, your lips parting, but no words came out. You wanted to say yes—god, you wanted to—but your brain kept screaming at you that this wasn’t real, that any second now, she was going to pull back, shake her head, tell you she misspoke, that she wasn’t thinking straight. That this was just the heat of the moment, that she wasn’t actually asking.

Julie blinked, like she had just startled herself. For once in her life, her mouth moved before her mind, before she could run through a thousand calculations and arrive at the most logical course of action. And now, the words hung between you—heavy, irreversible, so completely and utterly hers.

Her jaw clenched, her fingers twitching where they rested against your skin, and you could practically see the internal war she was fighting. The ever-pragmatic, ever-meticulous Julie, who analyzed every possible outcome before making a move, had just proposed to you without a second thought. And that realization made something wild and untamed flicker in her eyes—something dangerously close to panic.

“I—” Her voice wavered, a rare crack in her perfect composure. Her grip on the bed tightened like she was trying to anchor herself. Just then did you realize, I’m laying on my side in my bed getting proposed to. You for certain did not look like you were meant to be proposed to right now, and that much made you so insecure. "I was supposed to do this differently. Today."

She swallowed, unaware of your own inner turmoil, her throat bobbing, frustration flashing across her face—not at you, but at herself, at her lack of control over this moment that had spiraled out of her hands. "I had a plan. A proper one. Everything was set up—the perfect setting, the perfect speech, the perfect ring, because of course I needed it to be perfect for you."

Her voice softened, a stark contrast to the intensity blazing in her gaze. "But then I kissed you, and—" She exhaled sharply, shaking her head, like she couldn’t even begin to put it into words. "And now I can’t wait. I don’t want to wait."

Something tightened in your chest.

Julie’s eyes never left yours, burning with a conviction that sent your pulse into a frenzy. This wasn’t some careless, heat-of-the-moment confession she'd regret later. No, this was deeper, heavier. Like she had carried the weight of these words for so long that they had begun to carve themselves into her bones.

She reached for your hand, her fingers slipping between yours, threading together like they belonged there. And when she spoke again, her voice was steadier, quieter—but no less intense.

“I love you.”

It wasn’t a declaration. It was a fact. A truth so absolute that it left no room for doubt.

You jolted upright so fast it nearly gave you whiplash, your blanket falling off your shoulders in a heap as you stared at her, wide-eyed. "Now?" you blurted, voice pitching up in disbelief. "You’re proposing to me right now? When I—" Your hands flew to your face, to your hair, to the rumpled clothes hanging off your frame. "Julie, I look like I just rolled out of bed! I—why would you propose to me when I look like—like this?!"

Your heart was hammering, pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears, a dizzying mix of happiness and absolute panic surging through your veins. This wasn’t how you’d pictured it. Not that you’d given much thought to your own proposal, but surely it wasn’t supposed to happen when your hair was a mess and sleep was still clinging to your body like an afterthought. You should be dressed up! There should be candles, or a fancy dinner, or at least some kind of preparation! Not this!

Julie’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before her expression softened into something warm, something endearingly amused. She let out a soft breath—a quiet laugh, really—and reached for you, her hands finding your arms as she pulled you closer. "Hey," she murmured, squeezing gently. "Slow down."

"Julie," you whined, still horrified, still flustered beyond belief, but her thumbs were already stroking soothing circles into your skin, grounding you. "I—this isn’t—"

"Yes sure this isn’t how I picture it, but it’s no less perfect to me!" she interrupted, her voice firm but unbearably tender. "You think I care about how you look right now?" She gave a short, incredulous laugh and shook her head. "You always look perfect to me. But more than that? This moment—you—this is real. This isn’t some perfectly rehearsed, artificial scene. This is me, looking at you, and knowing with absolute certainty that I want to spend my life with you.*"

You swallowed, your throat tight, your chest aching with the sheer force of the love in her words. Your lips parted, but no sound came out, because what could you possibly say to that?

Julie took your silence as permission to continue, her hands drifting up to cradle your face. "I love you," she whispered, her forehead brushing against yours. "Messy hair, sleepy face, half-asleep grumbles and all. I love you like this. I love you always. And I don’t need anything grand or perfect to know that I want to marry you. I just need you."

Your breath hitched, something overwhelming swelling in your chest. Because this—this wasn’t a dream, wasn’t some surreal, too-good-to-be-true moment. It was real. It was her. And it was perfect.

Her words were gentle, but there was this quiet certainty behind them that sent a shiver down your spine. How could someone so perfect in their own way love you so completely? Julie’s gaze was unwavering, as if she was pouring all of her feelings into you with just her eyes. The kind of love she held for you was pure and untouchable, and that, in itself, felt like both a comfort and a weight.

But despite her calm composure, there was a trace of nervousness in her eyes too, almost imperceptible to anyone else. The way she fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, the way her fingers twitched as if she was afraid to touch you too much. You could see that she was just as overwhelmed as you—more than she’d ever let on. Julie was human, too.

Your heart beat faster as everything started to shift, as your own uncertainty began to melt away, replaced by something warmer, something all-consuming. There was something so real about the way she looked at you—how deeply she cared—and that was what made this whole situation feel right, no matter how unusual the moment seemed. She was never the kind of person to make a big show of things, and this quiet, intimate proposal, despite your disarray, felt entirely her.

A deep breath escaped you, and suddenly, without even realizing it, you found yourself back in front of her, your hands grasping onto her arms for support. You stared into her eyes, her face so close, and everything inside you just clicked. This was real. She was real.

You felt a surge of emotions course through you—love, joy, relief, and maybe a little bit of disbelief—and before you could second guess yourself, you surged forward. Your lips found hers in a kiss that was more desperate than you expected, more needy than you could’ve planned. It wasn’t planned at all, honestly, it was just instinct—raw and pure. You kissed her with all the confusion, the tenderness, the overwhelming feelings you couldn’t put into words.

Julie was caught off guard for a second, her breath hitching, before she leaned into it, her hands sliding up to your back, pulling you closer like she needed to make sure you were there, right there in her arms. And you were. You were so completely and utterly in love with her, your hands tangled in her hair, drawing her closer as if to make sure this wasn’t some dream. You kissed her again, deeper this time, a slow, tender moment that felt like the world had gone silent except for the two of you. No more doubts, no more second-guessing—just the simple truth of the moment.

When you finally pulled away, your breath mingled with hers, your heart hammering in your chest. "Yes," you said, the word leaving your lips with a breathless fervor. "Yes, yes, I’ll marry you, Julie."

Julie froze for a moment, as if the world had just come to a halt, and then a smile broke across her face—soft, relieved, and full of joy. Her fingers touched your face with tenderness, a slow, reverent caress, as if she were trying to memorize every inch of you. "I love you," she whispered, her voice shaky but filled with so much emotion that it made your heart flutter in your chest. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too," you whispered back, your voice thick with all the emotions you couldn’t even begin to describe.

And in that moment, you both knew—this was real. All of it was real. The love, the proposal, the kiss—everything. The overwhelming feeling of rightness, of finally being where you belonged.

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andy-15-07 · 2 days ago

Note

Hiii! Would you write a hurt! Kraven x reader fic like... he comes home seriously injured after a hunt and she patches him up?

Injuries and Care

pairing: Sergei Kravinoff x female!reader

word count:2549 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Aaron Taylor Johnson Masterlist

The day had been long and treacherous—one of those days when every instinct screamed danger, yet Sergei could not resist the call of the hunt. You’d spent the morning preparing a quiet afternoon together, unaware that the man you loved would soon return battered and bruised, both in body and spirit. When the sharp rap of the door startled you, your heart pounded with anxious anticipation. As you opened it, there he stood: Sergei Kravinoff, his dark eyes shadowed by pain, his usually immaculate attire splattered with blood and sweat. He leaned heavily against the frame, struggling to smile through clenched teeth.

“Sergei… what happened?” you managed, rushing to his side as concern immediately overwhelmed you.

His voice was low and gravelly. “I… I encountered more than I bargained for out in the wild today. There was a beast—a wild, furious creature that caught me off guard. I fought it, but… it overpowered me.” He hesitated, wincing as he tried to shift his weight. “I needed to bring it down, to prove my worth… for the thrill of the hunt… for you.”

You gently guided him inside, supporting him as he sank onto the old sofa near the entryway. “You scared me, Sergei. Your life is far too precious for any hunt. Come on, let me take care of you.” With trembling hands and a voice full of compassion, you helped him remove his jacket to reveal deep gashes along his arms and torso. His skin, marred by cuts and bruises, told the story of a battle he’d fought with every ounce of strength. One particularly jagged wound on his side seeped steadily, the dark red contrasting with his pale, sweat-slicked skin.

“Stay with me,” you murmured, retrieving the first aid kit from the shelf. “I’m not letting you face this pain alone.”

Sergei managed a wry smile despite his agony. “I’ve always prided myself on being self-sufficient… But sometimes, even the strongest warrior needs a refuge. Thank you, my love.”

You set to work, carefully cleaning each wound. As you dabbed antiseptic on his skin, he winced and murmured, “It hurts… but your touch—it makes it bearable.”

“Shh,” you soothed, wrapping a soft bandage around his arm. “I need you to stay still, Sergei. Every mark tells a story, but I’d rather see you healed than hunted down.”

He sighed, his eyes meeting yours with vulnerability rarely seen in the fierce hunter you adored. “I always believed that strength was measured by the scars you earned. Yet here I am, scarred in more ways than one.”

You paused, looking deep into his eyes. “Strength isn’t only about bearing scars—it’s about knowing when to lean on someone. Let me be your strength, Sergei. Let me help mend not just these wounds, but the parts of you that bleed unseen.”

He squeezed your hand, the grip both desperate and tender. “You have no idea how much I need you right now. I’ve spent my life chasing danger… and in the process, I forgot what it meant to feel safe.”

As you continued your careful ministrations, the room filled with soft conversation. The hum of the old house settling provided a backdrop to the honesty that flowed between you both.

“Tell me,” you asked gently as you bandaged his shoulder, “what went through your mind during the fight?”

Sergei closed his eyes for a moment, his voice barely above a whisper. “I was so focused on the thrill—the raw, undeniable call of the chase—that I lost sight of everything else. And then, in a single moment, reality hit me: I wasn’t invincible. The pain… it reminded me of my mortality.”

You nodded, your eyes brimming with empathy. “I wish you’d never felt that fear, that pain. But maybe this is a chance—a moment to understand that no hunt is worth risking your life, or ours.”

He managed a soft chuckle despite the pain. “You always manage to ground me. Even now, as I lie here broken, I see that my fire doesn’t have to consume me. Perhaps it’s time to let someone else share the burden.”

The room grew quieter as you both settled into the gentle cadence of honesty. Outside, the light began to fade, and the only illumination came from the soft glow of a bedside lamp. You propped Sergei up with pillows and continued to check his wounds, your fingers light and deliberate. Every so often, his eyes would flutter open as if in a silent thank-you, his gaze lingering on yours with gratitude and something deeper—a silent promise of shared futures.

“Sergei, promise me something,” you said softly, brushing a stray hair from his forehead. “Promise me that from now on, you’ll let me worry for you. That you won’t face every danger alone. I love you too much to see you hurt.”

His eyes, usually so fierce and unyielding, softened as he replied, “I promise. I’ve always been a lone wolf, chasing shadows and thrills, but you… you’ve shown me that even a hunter can find solace in vulnerability. I’ll try to be more careful. For you. For us.”

The dialogue carried on into the night, as you recounted memories of earlier days—when the two of you first met, when you discovered each other’s hidden depths. “Do you remember our first adventure?” you asked one moment, a playful glint in your eye. “You were so determined to prove yourself, yet you ended up in a trap in the forest. I had to rescue you, didn’t I?”

Sergei chuckled, a sound that was both amused and self-deprecating. “How could I forget? I was stubborn enough to believe I could outsmart the wild, only to be humbled by it. And you… you saved me then, just as you’re saving me now.”

The memory made you both laugh—a genuine, hearty laugh that filled the small living room with warmth. “I still don’t understand how someone as fearless as you could be taken down by a trap,” you teased lightly. “Maybe you should have let me do the saving.”

He grinned, the faintest hint of mischief in his eyes. “I was saving my best charm for you, wasn’t I?”

Between laughter and quiet confessions, the night wore on. You meticulously applied salves and rewrapped bandages, interweaving care with conversation. “I want you to heal, Sergei—not just these wounds, but every part of you that aches from a life of constant danger,” you confided. “Your worth isn’t measured by the hunts you conquer, but by the love you share and the life we build together.”

He looked at you, his voice soft and sincere. “You’re right. I’ve spent so long trying to prove something to myself, to the world… but all I needed was you to show me that my true strength lies in the love we have. I’m tired of letting the thrill overshadow the quiet beauty of simply being alive.”

In the midst of that tender conversation, you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes shone with a mixture of pride and regret—a reminder of all the battles he’d fought, both with wild beasts and his inner demons. “There’s a beauty in vulnerability, Sergei,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his knotted hand. “The scars we bear are not just marks of pain—they’re reminders that we have lived, loved, and survived.”

He exhaled slowly. “Perhaps my scars will one day be seen not as symbols of failure, but as testaments to a life lived fully. And with you by my side, I know I can face anything—even the parts of myself I’ve long denied.”

The conversation shifted seamlessly into future dreams and quiet hopes. “Once you’re well,” you proposed one evening as you both sat by a small window overlooking the garden, “why don’t we take a little vacation? Somewhere safe, where the only hunt is for sunsets and quiet moments. A place where we can truly be ourselves without the constant threat of danger.”

Sergei’s eyes lit up with cautious optimism. “That sounds… perfect. A retreat where I can relearn what it means to live without always chasing the next thrill. To just be… alive.”

There was a long pause, filled only by the sound of your synchronized heartbeats. “I want us to dream together,” you added. “Not just about adventures and battles, but about a future where every day is a gentle reminder of our love.”

He reached across, his fingers intertwining with yours. “I used to believe that my legacy would be built on conquests and trophies. But now I see that my true triumph is in the quiet moments—when I’m with you, when I can let down my guard and simply exist in your light.”

The nights blended into mornings, each sunrise a gentle reminder of a second chance. One early morning, as soft light filtered through the curtains, you found Sergei already awake, sitting by the window with a contemplative look. “Every sunrise feels like a promise,” he murmured. “A promise that even after the darkest night, there’s hope.”

You joined him, cradling warm cups of tea in your hands. “It’s the promise of a new beginning,” you said. “A reminder that no matter how harsh the world may be, love will always light our way.”

He smiled, eyes distant yet focused. “I spent so many years hunting the thrill, trying to fill a void. But now I understand that the real chase is for love, for meaning, for the moments we share that make life worth living.”

Later that day, in the quiet sanctuary of your small garden, Sergei’s tone shifted as he broached a subject that had weighed on him for some time. “Do you ever think that all these scars, all this pain, is just a mask? A way to hide from the possibility of being truly seen?” His voice wavered with vulnerability.

You took his hand, squeezing it gently. “I’ve seen you, Sergei—the man behind the hunter. The fierce warrior is only part of who you are. I see your heart, your doubts, and your dreams. And I love every piece of it. It’s okay to let the mask slip now and then.”

He drew a slow breath, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’m learning that it’s not weakness to be vulnerable. It’s… it’s human. And with you, I feel safe enough to let that side of me show.”

The intimacy of that exchange created a cocoon around you both—a safe space where neither danger nor pride could intrude. “I’ll always be here,” you promised. “Not to fix you, but to walk beside you as you heal. Your journey is ours to share.”

Over the next few days, as Sergei continued to mend physically, you both began to explore deeper parts of yourselves. Mornings were spent in quiet reflection, with Sergei often gazing out at the horizon as if searching for something beyond the endless hunt. “I used to think the wild was all there was,” he confessed one morning, voice hushed. “But now, I wonder if there’s more—a life where the only chase is for dreams and shared moments.”

You smiled softly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Every day with you teaches me that love isn’t about perfection or conquest. It’s about acceptance, about the courage to face our own fears. And I promise, no matter how rough the path gets, I’ll be here to remind you of the beauty in healing.”

There were lighter moments too. One rainy afternoon found you both curled up on the sofa, a cozy blanket wrapped around you as you reminisced about past misadventures. “Remember that time you got lost in the woods during a sudden storm?” you teased, laughter dancing in your voice.

Sergei’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “How could I forget? I was so determined to prove I wasn’t afraid of nature’s wrath, only to end up drenched and shivering while you navigated us home using nothing but the stars.”

You laughed, the sound mingling with the soft patter of rain against the window. “I still say that night was one of the best adventures we’ve had. Not because of the danger, but because it brought us closer.”

He leaned in, his voice tender. “Every adventure, every challenge—good or bad—has led me to you. And that, above all else, is the greatest treasure I’ve ever found.”

As the weeks passed, the memory of that brutal hunt—and the wounds it left—became interwoven with a newfound understanding between you both. The scars were visible reminders of the dangers he’d faced, but they also symbolized the turning point in his life: the moment he realized that vulnerability and love were not weaknesses, but sources of true strength.

One cool evening, as twilight draped the room in gentle blue shadows, you sat beside Sergei on the worn couch, the soft glow of a bedside lamp illuminating his thoughtful expression. “Sergei,” you said softly, “I want you to know that your past doesn’t have to dictate your future. Every scar, every painful memory, is a reminder of how far you’ve come—and how much love has helped you through.”

He looked at you, his eyes reflecting a storm of emotions—regret, hope, and an unspoken promise. “You’ve given me more than you could ever imagine,” he whispered. “You’ve shown me that it’s okay to heal, to be vulnerable. I was once a man who measured worth in battles and scars, but now I see that my true legacy is the love we share.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Our love is our sanctuary,” you replied, voice thick with emotion. “No matter how fierce the storm outside, here we have a haven where both of us can be truly seen.��

In that moment, as the night deepened and the quiet hum of your home enveloped you both, you understood that every whispered conversation, every shared tear and laugh, had been a stepping stone toward a future built on trust, vulnerability, and undeniable love.

As sleep eventually claimed Sergei, you stayed awake a little longer, watching over him and reflecting on the promise of each new day. “Rest well, my love,” you murmured into the quiet dark. “Tomorrow, we’ll build on this healing, this connection, and together we’ll write a new chapter—a chapter not defined by the scars of the past, but by the strength we find in each other.”

And so, in the gentle silence of the early hours, as dawn tiptoed over the horizon, you made a silent vow: no matter what challenges awaited, you and Sergei would always find your way back to this sacred space of understanding and care. The wild may call to him, and danger may lurk in the shadows, but here—in this home, in this shared heartbeat—you had found the true prize of life: a love that healed, a love that endured.

Together, you faced the promise of a new beginning, where every scar was a story of survival, every tender word a step toward a future filled with hope. And as the first light of day embraced you both, you knew that this journey, as painful as it sometimes was, was the one worth living—side by side, heart to heart, forever intertwined in the gentle art of healing and love.

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accio-sriracha · 2 days ago

Text

Chasing Stars

A slightly long snippet of an unpublished Jegulus wip.

CW: Very brief mentions of sexual abuse and a singular homophobic slur

Context: Regulus is forced to make dark magic deals on behalf of the Black family. Things get messy as James unknowingly follows him into the dangerous exchange.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

"Does your friend here have a name, Black?" Dominic demanded as he moved closer.

He walked in lengthy strides, like a wild animal waiting to pounce.

"James O'Malley." Regulus lied immediately.

"Slytherin?" He asked, looking Potter up and down and making a slow, predatory circle around them.

Regulus swallowed hard, attempting to keep his poise as he responded,

"Yes. Half-blood."

"Ooh, a halfblood." Dominic snickered.

Regulus heard a few of Dominic's followers laugh as well.

"Why don't we hear your friend speak?" Dominic drawled, his voice as daunting as ever.

He took another step forward, coming right into Potter's space,

"You wanna talk for us, O'Malley? Or are you just gonna keep following little Black around like his bitch?"

Regulus glanced back at him, watching the challenge sparking behind Potter's eyes, the slight tip of his chin.

Potter's pride was something Regulus knew would be a wild card.

Please don't fall for it, Potter. He silently begged.

Regulus kept his face even, Potter's eyes met his own again, deep brown crashing into metallic silver.

By some miracle Regulus couldn't thank enough, Potter remained silent.

"Bitch, it is." Dominic taunted, "Got yourself a bodyguard then, Black?"

He leaned in and took Potter's jaw in his hand, tilting his face to look up at him.

Regulus could tell the force of his grip had to be painful, but Potter didn't so much as flinch, meeting his cold stare with an expression that could have been cut from stone.

Dominic laughed, "Yes, he's a keeper. Big and strong but... not too bright, eh?"

He patted Potter's cheek twice and let him go, moving back to stand with the others again.

He heard Potter let out a slow, angry breath when there was a good distance between them.

"I want your end of the deal done by next week, Black. If you don't follow through, you know what's gonna happen to you." Dominic spoke only to Regulus now, ignoring the boy behind him.

Regulus nodded once, "I'm aware. It will be done."

Dominic smiled that horrible, sadistic smile,

"Good. Make sure to tell your brother I said hello. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear from me."

Regulus held back the instinct to flinch at his words. He remembered the look in Sirius' eyes when he came back from his last meeting with Dominic.

That was the first time Regulus had ever seen Sirius cry, even after all the years of abuse they'd suffered, nobody had ever broken Sirius the way Dominic did that night.

"We're no longer speaking." Regulus answered automatically, pretending to be unaffected, "He was disowned from the family over a year ago."

Dominic knew that, Regulus was sure of it. Everyone had heard of Sirius' estrangement to the family. He was only testing Regulus, seeing how far he could push until he broke Regulus too.

It took nearly five years for Sirius to give in to Dominic's pressure.

Regulus had never met anyone as strong as his brother, he doubted he ever would.

Dominic laughed, bringing Regulus' thoughts back to the exchange at hand,

"That's right. Bit of a faggot, wasn't he? Hmm... it's such a shame good blood was waisted on someone so pathetic. I'm telling you, I'm pretty sure he enjoyed having my friends inside him when he was being punished for a late delivery."

Potter reacted then, his wand in his hand before Regulus could manage to stop him.

A spell was shot in their direction the very same moment.

Those were always the rules: if they saw a wand drawn they would curse first and ask questions later.

Regulus immediately shoved Potter to the ground, knowing these guys wouldn't stop at stunning the way Potter would.

Regulus' shoulders heaved, standing protectively in front of Potter with his own wand drawn,

"Fuck, Potter." He hissed under his breath.

He'd never wanted to be at the other end of their torturous spells.

"Potter?" Dominic's eyes went wide, "Have you lied to me about your guest, Black?"

"We aren't looking for any trouble." Regulus replied instead, though he couldn't bring himself to put his wand down, not with their hungry eyes locked onto the boy behind him, itching for a target.

"You say that, and yet here you stand, pointing your wand at your oldest friend."

Dominic pretended to be offended, but Regulus knew he didn't care. There would always be someone to deliver, it didn't matter how much he tortured them, someone would always take their place.

"Dominic, please, just let him go. I will answer for it. He doesn't know anything." Regulus found himself resorting to pleading.

Regulus never begged, not even when he was beat an inch from his life as a child, he was always the type to stand there and take it silently.

But this was Potter.

Regulus was responsible for whatever happened to him now, he couldn't be the reason Potter was hurt, not when he knew he could do something about it.

He wondered when his feelings had changed to this, merely an hour ago he wouldn't have noticed if Potter dropped off the face of the earth aside from the Gryffindor team lacking their quidditch captain.

Regulus couldn't remember exchanging a single word in the past six years they'd passed each other in the halls.

Yet here he was, putting his life on the line for the boy he barely knew.

Because if he did know anything, it was that Potter was far too good to deserve this.

Dominic's voice snapped Regulus' attention back to his face,

"Ahh, but he brought himself into this, didn't he, Black? I feel a man who makes his own choices should face his own consequences."

Before Regulus could react there was a surge of light and a scream from behind him.

Regulus dropped to the ground, hovering over Potter, making sure he was still breathing.

"Enough!" Regulus shouted, his voice sounded desperate to his own ears, "We'll go! I'll have it to you by next week. You have my word."

Regulus would do anything, anything to get Potter away from here.

Potter wasn't going to die today.

Regulus would save him if it was the last thing he ever did.

"Look who's the brave Black brother now." Dominic cooed, reaching out and tilting Regulus' chin up, the same way he'd done with Potter, the same way he'd probably done with Sirius, "That's a curse I made myself. It should end in a few hours. Let this be a reminder to never betray me again."

A blinding flash of pain against his jaw made him fall to the ground, collapsing next to Potter.

It occurred to him a moment later Dominic had actually punched him.

It was rare to see a pureblood wizard strike without a wand.

But Dominic was no ordinary wizard.

"Pitiful. What a waste of good blood." Dominic repeated, motioning for his friends to leave.

Regulus sat up when they were alone again, leaning over Potter,

"Potter, fuck, fuck I'm so sorry. Can you hear me?"

Potter was shaking violently, his eyes glazed over and his lips forming around silent words.

Tears fell from his eyes and sweat matted his hair to his forehead, the sight was one of the scariest things Regulus had ever seen.

"Okay. Come on, I'll get you safe." Regulus managed to get Potter onto his back, carrying him down the worn path to the castle. Potter clung to him the entire way.

Regulus caught the words 'Please' and 'No' a few times in between the heart-wrenching sobs.

He made it to the Gryffindor tower, facing the portrait he knew to be the door to the common room,

"I need to get inside." He told her.

The lady in the portrait yawned and stretched,

"Password?" She asked sleepily.

Regulus groaned, "I don't know the password, he's in trouble, we need to get through. It's an emergency!"

She shrugged, "No password, no entry."

Regulus cursed, setting Potter down on the ground and resting him against the wall.

He knelt down in front of him, pulling their faces close,

"Potter. Potter, look at me." He whispered, "I need the password to the Gryffindor common room."

Potter's eyes were still unfocused, the shaking had gotten worse. The silent words turned to quiet whimpering, he looked so terrified.

"Potter, please, try to focus okay? Try to focus for me. I need the password."

He didn't reply, his head thrashing from side to side as his reactions to whatever he was seeing got more violent.

"Fuck." Regulus pulled out his wand, cursing the world for making him need to use this spell again.

It was a spell he and Sirius had created when they were kids, in case something happened to one of them.

"Sirius." Regulus tried to keep his voice from shaking, his eyes never leaving Potter's, "Sirius, I need you, please."

He heard Remus Lupin's tired voice emitting from his wand and realised they were sleeping together.

He didn't have time to process it, holding Potter to his chest when his tears starting again,

"It's okay, I got you." Regulus murmured against his hair, stroking Potter's back in a way he hoped was soothing.

He wasn't even sure Potter knew where he was.

Lupin mumbled something again, something that ended in him using the word 'Darling'.

"Moons? What is it?" Sirius came through next.

Regulus felt his heart lurch at the sound of his voice. He missed his brother so much it hurt most days.

This was not how he was hoping to reunite with him.

"There's something happening with your wand, love, I don't know."

"What?" Sirius' groggy voice grew irritated, "What about my wand?"

"Sirius, it's me." Regulus spoke again, this time his voice really did shake.

Potter's arms were wrapped around him now, his head buried into his shoulder while he sobbed, shaking harder than ever.

"I- I need help." Regulus sounded like a child again, begging for his big brother to come and rescue him.

"Reggie?" Sirius immediatley sounded awake. There was shuffling, then his voice grew clearer, "Are you- Are you okay? What happened? Where are you?"

Regulus wanted to sigh in relief. He knew Sirius would come if he used the spell, no matter how much time had passed between them.

Regulus didn't have time to explain,

"I need you to open the door to the Gryffindor common room. It's Potter, he's-" He broke off, shaking his head even though he knew they couldn't see him.

"James?"

Regulus heard quick movements, curtains being thrown open.

"Shit, Remus. It's Prongs-"

Regulus didn't have time for them to hash it out over the call,

"Outside the common room. Please just hurry."

Regulus disconnected the link between them as Potter's shaking got worse again. He began to thrash in Regulus' arms,

"Don't leave, Regulus. Please, don't leave me."

Regulus nodded and held him tighter, "I won't Potter, I won't. I'm right here, I promise. I'm not going anywhere."

Something had snapped inside of Regulus, like a wire strung too tight.

And he knew it in that moment, he wouldn't- couldn't- leave him. Not ever.

The portrait swung open suddenly, Sirius rushing out of it with his wand raised, his eyes searching for danger.

He found Regulus holding Potter on the ground beside the door.

Lupin stepped out too, taking in the sight with shock.

"Prongs?" Sirius' voice was a mixture of terror and confusion.

Regulus looked up at them,

"Fuck, Sirius I'm so sorry. I tried to protect him, I-"

His sentence trailed off as Potter's thrashing started again, Regulus tried to hold him steady.

"Regulus!" Potter shouted, "No, please!"

"I got you. I'm here, I'm here." He whispered, trying to keep him from hitting his head on the wall, "It's okay. It's okay. I'm right here."

"What the fuck happened to him?" Sirius asked, watching in horror.

Regulus was crying now too, his voice coming out in a sob as he clutched onto Potter,

"He was hit with something. I- I don't know, some kind of curse. Dominic-"

"Dominic?" Sirius was furious instantly, his eyes never left James, like he was afraid to look directly at Regulus, "What the fuck was James doing near Dominic?"

"I don't know." Regulus repeated, trying to keep his voice low to not startle Potter, who was clinging to him like his world depended on it. Maybe in his eyes it did.

Regulus sniffed, "He followed me out while I was doing a run for father. I didn't know what to do. Dominic showed up before I could convince Potter to leave."

"Regulus-" James' broken sob was muffled into his chest.

Regulus turned his attention back to Potter, the protectivness he felt from the moment Regulus realised he was standing on that trail coursing through him.

Regulus was wrong to think he would never notice Potter's disappearance from the world.

He always noticed Potter. He knew it had been Potter following him on the trail by the sound of his footsteps alone.

He could recognise Potter's laugh out of a hundred others. He could tell exactly what Potter was thinking from just one look at his eyes.

Regulus had always noticed Potter, always gravitating towards him in one way or another.

It had just never meant anything until now.

Now? Now he meant everything.

Regulus held onto him, trying to get the shaking to stop,

"You'll be okay." He whispered.

He didn't know if it was for Potter's benefit or his own.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

( @bradleysass I'm so sorry, I swear the fic has a happy ending)

#marauders #marauders era #harry potter #regulus black #james potter #jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #jegulus angst #jegulus snippet #wip #sirius black #the black brothers angst #the black brothers

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bread-crum206 · 23 hours ago

Text

A Game of Hearts

Chapter thirty-four: Lines Crossed

Summary: Y/N’s father is a VIP for the games, he makes a deal with the Frontman that if he marries his only daughter that he will continue to sponsor the games. However, Y/N is not fond of this decision as she loathes the games and in turn, loathes the Frontman as well. Will she grow to love him? Will he let his walls down?

previous | 34 | next

Series Masterlist

The silence between you stretched, thick and suffocating.

In-ho didn’t move from the doorway. He stood there, his mask betraying nothing, but the weight of his gaze felt heavier than ever. His gloved hands flexed slightly at his sides, a barely perceptible movement, but you caught it.

He knew.

He knew you had seen.

You swallowed hard, willing yourself to keep your expression neutral, though your pulse was a frantic rhythm against your ribs. The drawer was closed now, the photos tucked away as if they had never been disturbed. But that didn’t matter.

He knew.

A long moment passed before he finally stepped forward, his movements slow, calculated. The door shut behind him with a soft click, locking you both inside.

Your fingers curled against the sides of your thighs as you forced yourself to hold his gaze. “You took too long.”

His head tilted slightly, as if weighing your words. “And you got impatient.”

You exhaled through your nose, trying to steady yourself. “I wanted to understand you.”

“Did you?” His voice was quiet, dangerously unreadable.

You hesitated. “I think so.”

Another beat of silence. Then, he stepped closer, until there was barely a foot of space between you. His presence was suffocating, demanding, but you refused to back down.

“Then tell me,” he murmured. “What exactly do you think you understand?”

Your throat went dry. He was challenging you, pushing you to say it out loud.

You clenched your jaw. “That you had a wife.” Your voice was steadier than you expected. “A child.”

Something in the air shifted.

He didn’t confirm it. Didn’t deny it. But he also didn’t look away.

Your chest tightened. “That you had a brother.”

This time, the silence was longer. His gloved fingers twitched at his sides.

Still, no confirmation.

But he didn’t have to say it.

You had seen the truth written in the way he kept those pictures—hidden yet untouched, as if moving them would make them feel less real.

“In-ho…” You hesitated before continuing, your voice softer. “What happened to them?”

His shoulders tensed.

For a long time, he said nothing. Then—

“They’re gone.”

His tone was flat. Final.

And yet, beneath those two words, you heard everything.

The pain. The loss. The guilt.

Gone.

You didn’t ask how. You weren’t sure if you were ready to hear the answer.

He exhaled slowly, tilting his head at you. “You crossed a line.”

Your pulse quickened. “Maybe.”

His fingers twitched again. “And what should I do about that?”

You held your ground. “Whatever you want.”

The words hung between you, charged with something unspoken. His mask tilted slightly, as if he were studying you, searching for something.

And then, he did something unexpected.

He turned away.

Without another word, he walked past you, toward his desk. The tension in the room remained, but he didn’t touch you, didn’t lash out. Instead, he picked up the glass of whiskey he had abandoned earlier and took a slow sip.

His voice was quieter when he spoke again. “You should go to bed.”

Your heart twisted. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t even lashing out.

He was retreating.

Shutting down.

Because talking about them—acknowledging them—made them real again.

You watched him for a moment before sighing. “You can’t avoid this forever.”

He didn’t look at you. “Go to bed, Y/N.”

You hesitated. Then, finally, you turned and walked toward the door.

Just before you stepped out, you glanced back.

He was still standing by the desk, staring down at his glass like it held all the answers.

But you knew the truth.

Nothing in this place could bring back what he lost.

And nothing could fix the parts of him that were still breaking.

———————

Chapter thirty four!! Let me know what you think! Thank you!

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#in ho x reader #squid game #squid game x y/n #squid games x reader #x reader #arranged marriage #frontman x reader #marriage au #the front man #squid game x reader

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arc-misadventures · 7 hours ago

Text

Warning: Smut ahead. You have been warned.

Under the Kotatsu

I froze on the spot. A shiver ran up the course of my spine. A silent gasp escaped my lips. But, I dare not voice it. I was surrounded by people, and the consequences of voice my emotions were too grave to risk.

But, I could barely contain myself. It had been years since someone touched me there, not since I lost my beloved husband. And yet, here we were, sitting underneath a kotatsu, my daughter sitting to my left and across from me sat her boyfriend. Chatting about mundane things, such as the weather, and what not as he slowly rubbed his foot against my groin.

I could feel myself grow wet at his touch. His slow, methodical motions of his foot as he rubbed his toe along my slit. I could barely keep a straight face as I squirmed underneath his touch.

I wanted to yell out, slap him for touching me so. But, I just couldn’t bring myself to. Years of bent up frustration seemed to slowly emerge from within the depths of my soul from his succulent touch.

I struggled to contain my moans, I desperately wanted to let loose, to cry out in unbridled passion at his tough. But I mustn’t, otherwise everything would be ruined if my daughter became aware of what was happening. But, oh gods that thought alone just made it all the more invigorating!

I could just imagine it: My daughter catching me getting off from her boyfriends touch. Her shocked expression displayed across her face as I screamed out in extasy, as I felt a long over due sense of relief as I came from an age of being untouched by anyone, even myself. Oh how intoxicating was that thought I dare say I nearly came from the thought alone.

But, I wasn’t there yet, I needed more, much more before I would reach my climax. I bucked my hips against his foot for the briefest of moments. A signal for him to go harder, to go faster; a signal telling him to make sure I came, soon!

He clearly got the message as I felt his foot press harder against me, rubbing me with much more speed, and passion. By the Brother Gods, I was drowning in the passion, and the love of his touch.

I could feel myself grow closer, and closer to my release. The pleasure from his touch only edging me further along.

I wanted to cry out, let loose a howling guttural moan of unbridled pleasure as I came from his touch. But I couldn’t, it would spoil all the fun if I did.

I was amazed that I managed to hold my moans in. It had been years since I felt such pleasure. It spoke volumes that I was able to hide it from my daughter, and her boyfriend. I was surprised he didn’t react to what he was doing to me.

A soft pant escaped my lips as he pushed on harder and faster than before. I bucked my hips harder against his foot as he edged me. I was close, dangerously close to cumming my brains out, and I couldn’t wait!

I squeezed my lips shut as I moaned deep within my throat, not doubt sounding like a purr of passion within my sealed lips. My body bucking for just a moment as I felt the juices flood my panties. Oh gods, I desperately needed that!

I coughed into my hands to hide my moans. I was basking in this liberating moment for but a second, and yet it felt like ages. My daughter asked me what was wrong, I simply stated I was a little parched. She offered to get us some tea, such a good girl. She soon got up, and left. Leaving me alone with her dear boyfriend.

Oh this was going to be fun!

My face, flushed red from euphoric pleasure turned to face my daughters boyfriend. His wide eyed blue eyes frantically darted between me, and my daughter as she left before his eyes settled upon me. A nervous gulp, and agasped mouth stared back at me.

Oh, that sneaky little devil!

He had been aiming for my daughter, not me! Evidently, he clearly missed the mark. He was stuttering an excuse before I in turn silenced him.

I stared deeply into those deep blue eyes of his, whispering softly to him that it was now my turn. As my stocking clad foot, rubbed against his hardening member.

It was big, shockingly big! I struggled to imagine how his pants held back such a monster.

I started to tease him, both with my foot and the words as I spoke. I told him how he was such a naughty boy; rubbing his girlfriend’s mother off till she came. All the while her daughter sat next to me. Such a naughty boy~!

He gasped softly as I rubbed his cock through his pants. He let loose a poor excuse that he thought he was rubbing off my daughter not me. I asked if they did this often, rubbing one another off, hidden from the sight of others. And, apparently they did, quite often at that.

Explained why the boy was so damn good at it.

He was about to apologize, but I cut him off by thanking him. He stared back at me in shock. I explained to him that it had been years since someone pleasured me like that. Even before I lost my darling husband at that. And, I told him that I had to. No, that I needed to return the favour.

It was only fair after all.

So I pressed my other foot against his groin. With a cock this big, one foot simply couldn’t give it the proper footjob it deserved.

He let out a low moan at my touched. i told him how I envied him, I wanted to scream when I felt his touch, but I couldn’t, not with my daughter next to me. But, hiding it from her was part of it all fun though.

I told him to undo his zipper to let that hard cock out, and he did just so. I marveled in amazement as I felt his long, thick, hard cock between my feet. I desperately wanted to peak under the table to see it in its raw glory, but I wouldn’t get that good of a look from where i was sitting.

I asked him how big he was. He gasped silently as I he told me. A foot?! I held a foot long cock between my feet?! Oh gods. I could only imagine how that would feel inside me.

I was about to ask another question, but was silenced by my daughter coming in. She placed three cups of tea before us, we inhaled the sweet aroma as the tea cooled before us.

The tea smelt nice, but I bet he smelt way, way better.

Our conversation resumed, chatting about how the reconstruction of Beacon was coming along, what they planned to do after it was completed, simple things like that. All the while I rubbed the head of his cock with my toes.

I could see the minute twitches across his face as he struggled to contain the desire to express the pleasure he felt from my touch. I couldn’t help, but wonder if this was what I had looked like when he rubbed me off.

Bet I looked damn good.

He started to buck his hips against my feet, his cock twitching about in my grasp. He was getting close. Good.

I wanted him to cum, to know that an old lady like me could still get a boy… No, a man off with just the simplest of touches. So far I was succeeding, but I need to feel the liquid proof upon my body. I needed it! Now!

But, that was proving to be a challenge. Evidently this boy had stamina for days. Boys with big auras, apparently the rumours about them had more truth to them than they said.

I could feel him twitch more as my feet rubbed him off. He was close dangerously close. Oh gods, I could almost taste it, and oh how I desperately wanted to!

A silent moan escaped his lips as he bucked forward, finally giving me what I wanted! His hot cum plastered all over my feet, and legs! His face giving off a pained, and relived expression as he reached his climax.

My daughter looked at her boyfriend, asking if he was alright, he simply played it off as just being a little tired. All the while I could feel rivers of hot cum run down my feet.

It was such a waste, such a godly load of cum would have felt far better coming out of my gaping pussy than upon my legs.

I shivered in arousal at the mere thought of it.

My daughter said it was late, they should probably get some sleep. She collected the cups and left to her bed. Her boyfriend, and I decided to stay, and chat for a bit.

As my daughter left my line of sight, I quietly whispered to him if he enjoyed himself. The thrill I got when he told me I was better than his daughter was invigorating!

I told him that this wasn’t over, this was merely the beginning of something wonderful.

Amber eyes stared into blue, as a pair of deep lustful smile splayed across our lips as he simple asked.

“Well then, what are we waiting for?”

Oh yeah, I still had it~!

///

Okay, I did change this a little from the original. Just tweaked the grammar, and added some bits to improve the flow.

Don't expect me to do more of these. This is just one I've been wanting to share for years now. And, I finally relented.

Do enjoy~1

#rwby #jaune arc #blake belladonna #kali belladonna #jaune x kali #kali x jaune #rwby cougar

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dioslesbianwife · 2 days ago

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hihihihii i love ur content and i hope ur doing amazing >~< I was wondering if you could do headcanons for like what would the jofoes do if they were lying, just resting when all of the sudden we attack (not litterly) their face with kisses? with PB dio and santana? pretty please with a cherry on top, and those chocolate sugary sprinkles?

hahaha absolutely!! thank you for requesting- here are the headcannons!

jofoes reactions to being attacked with kisses :3

Dio Brando (PB)

Absolutely caught off guard. Dio is not used to being treated with such genuine affection, so when you suddenly shower his face with kisses, he stiffens.

His first instinct is to assume you're trying to distract him- Dio is always on guard, always suspicious.

But once he realizes your attack is nothing more than an onslaught of affection, he lets out a dramatic sigh.

"You truly have no shame, do you?" He says this, but the smug smirk on his face betrays how much he enjoys it.

Eventually, he'll flip you onto your back, pinning you down with his weight. "If you wish to shower me with love, you should be prepared to receive it tenfold." And oh, does he mean it.

Santana

At first, Santana doesn’t react at all. He just blinks up at you, processing what’s happening.

He’s naturally a very still and quiet being, so he lets you pepper his face with kisses, but you can tell he’s confused.

When you pause for breath, he finally speaks. "What... was that?"

If you explain that you were just showing affection, he hums, tilting his head. "Strange human behavior."

But later, when you least expect it, he grabs you out of nowhere and returns the favor- pressing his lips all over your face with calculated intent, watching your reaction carefully.

The next time you try to surprise him he’s ready. He’s learned to anticipate your affectionate ambushes, and he’ll catch your wrists, smirking. "You are persistent." But he never stops you.

Kars

His first reaction is an annoyed sigh. "Must you be so excitable?" He pretends to be indifferent, but his body betrays him- he tilts his head slightly, allowing you better access.

He'd never outright admit it, but he enjoys the way you can't seem to stop yourself from showering him in kisses.

Once you've finished, he simply raises an eyebrow. "Are you done?" But if you look like you're about to pout, he smirks and very deliberately pulls you down to return a single, precise kiss on your forehead.

"Now, rest," he orders, as if he wasn’t secretly enjoying it.

Esidisi

He makes the most dramatic noise when you start kissing him- part exaggerated sigh, part amused chuckle.

"Oh? Oh, what’s this? An attack? You think you can defeat me with love?"

He fully plays into it, acting like you're overwhelming him with your sheer affection.

"I won’t surrender." he smiles, throwing his arms up and around you.

When you finally stop, he grins and grabs you, rolling you under him. "My turn." And then you’re the one being ambushed.

Wamuu

The moment your lips touch his face, Wamuu freezes. He’s caught completely off guard, not sure how to respond.

You can feel him tense beneath you, his mind racing to understand why you’d do this.

When he realizes it's an expression of love, his cheeks darken slightly. "...You are very affectionate."

He wouldn’t stop you, but once you’re done, he cups your face in his large hands and stares at you, trying to memorize the way you look in this moment.

He doesn’t return the kisses immediately, but later, when he thinks you’re sleeping, he presses a single, careful kiss to your forehead.

Dio (Part 3)

Unlike his younger self, this Dio is completely unfazed. You attack him with kisses? He simply leans back and lets it happen.

"My, my, so eager," he murmurs, closing his eyes with a pleased hum.

He enjoys being worshiped, and your affection is nothing short of that in his eyes.

After a moment, he turns the tables, grabbing your chin between two fingers and making you slow down. "If you wish to drown me in your love, do it properly."

Will absolutely return the favor, but in the most calculated, drawn out way possible to make you squirm.

Yoshikage Kira

The first kiss makes him tense. The second one makes him blink. By the third, he lets out a long sigh, tilting his head just slightly.

He doesn’t mind it, per se, but he is hyperaware of his personal space and isn't used to such playful attacks.

"You're being rather bold," he murmurs, though he makes no effort to stop you.

Once you're finished, he adjusts his shirt with an exasperated huff, pretending to brush it off. But his ears are red.

Later, he'll return the favor in his own subtle way- adjusting your hair, pressing a deliberate kiss to your wrist, things that seem small but mean everything with him.

Diavolo

He glares at you instantly the second you pounce on him. His fight-or-flight instincts are ridiculous.

"What the–?! Tsk!" He tries to keep glaring at you, but you’re giggling, and he hates how endearing you look.

Tries to roll away from you, but you follow.

Eventually, he lets out a groan, giving up. "Fine. Do what you will," he sighs, pretending to tolerate it.

But if you stop too soon? "…Why did you stop?" He refuses to admit he wants you to keep going.

Doppio

Poor boy yelps so loud. He wasn’t ready at all.

His face goes bright red, and he stammers, "What?!"

Doppio doesn’t stop you, but he’s definitely flustered, laughing nervously and covering his face.

Once the initial shock wears off, though, he giggles and gently cups your cheeks.

"You’re too much," he murmurs, but there’s nothing but warmth in his voice.

Enrico Pucci

He stiffens immediately. Pucci isn’t used to random acts of affection like this.

"What… are you doing?" His voice is composed, but his body is tense.

When you tell him it’s just love, he lets out a slow breath. "I see."

He doesn’t stop you, but when you're done, he gently takes your hand in his.

He doesn’t say it out loud, but the warmth in his touch tells you he appreciates it.

Funny Valentine

He immediately chuckles. He finds your impulsive nature charming.

"An ambush? How bold of you." He tilts his head so you can reach him better.

"I quite enjoy this method of attack," he murmurs, voice smooth as silk.

When you finally pull away, he grabs your wrist and pulls you back for one more kiss, lingering just a little longer than necessary.

Diego Brando

"What the hell are you–?!"

He flinches at first, instinctively defensive.

But when you don’t stop, and he realizes you’re just being affectionate, he groans in frustration. " You’re relentless."

He pretends to hate it, but the blush creeping up his neck says otherwise.

"Fine. Do what you want," he sighs, closing his eyes and smirking just slightly.

Tooru

"Whoa, getting a little bold?"

Smug as hell, loves every second of it and will let you continue as long as you like

He leans into it, grinning. "Don’t stop now, I was enjoying that."

Absolutely teases you about it for days.

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screamintoad · 8 hours ago

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Chocolate Kisses

A/n: They make me SICK (I love these losers to death)

Ah yes, February 14th. The elusive day that couples wait for and singles dread every year. Although Rory is in a relationship that doesn’t mean that he looked forward to Valentine’s Day, to him it was just a marketing tactic with overpriced chocolate and heart plushies. He didn’t expect anything to be different today since people in Twisted Wonderland didn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day, instead a different holiday. But, he made the grave mistake of telling Ace about the day all about love in his world.

His morning began like any other. To the loud knocks on his front door, Grim nagging at him to get up, and to get him a can of tuna. Rory gave Argos an appreciative pat on his side as Argos found Grim food so that he could answer the door. Did he expect to see Ace on his doorstep? Yes. Did he expect to see Ace holding a container of something in one arm and a small bouquet in the other? No.

“Mornin!” Ace chimed as if nothing was off. “What do you have?” Rory wondered. Ace held out the goodies, Rory awkwardly took them as Ace explained, “They’re for you. I remember you told me about…Valentine’s Day? Was that what it was called?- ANYWAYS I had Trey help me bake the cookies and I had to do some bargaining to convince Vil to let me pick some of the flowers from Pomefiore’s garden.” Rory looked between him and the things in his arms. He wanted to ask why but he knew that Ace would get embarrassed for having to voice his reason. Instead, a bashful smile found it’s way on Rory’s face.

His face felt a little warm as he examined the flowers and realized that they were peonies. His favorite type of flower. A small thing that he couldn’t even remember mentioning before. “You remembered.” He mumbled. “Of course I did. If you celebrate love like this in your world then why shouldn’t I do something for you?” “Even in my world no one has done something like this for me.”

Ace’s eyes widened a bit in surprise, “Well good thing you have me then!” Rory laughed with him as they went inside, with Ace telling him about a similar holiday that happens later in the spring. They spent the rest of their morning goofing off as they discussed what their afternoon classes could hold for them. They did eat some of the cookies and Rory failed to notice the smear of chocolate on the corner of his mouth. Ace on the other hand very much did notice it. The red head put his thumb and index finger under Rory’s chin and tilted his head in his direction. Rory quirked a brow but didn’t question the motion. Then Ace leaned forward and kissed the spot with chocolate. As he pulled back he gave him a quick wink, “That chocolate is as sweet as you are.” He chimed.

Rory held back a smile as he attempted to deadpan, “You are so embarrassing.” He shook his head. Ace’s face flushed a bright red as he scoffed, “You say that but you love my embarrassing moments.” They bumped shoulders, “You wouldn’t be dating me otherwise. You’re stuck with me, forever. Those are the rules.” In a blink and you’ll miss it motion, Rory shifted and returned the kiss on Ace’s cheek. “There. Happy now you big romantic?” It was Ace’s turn to be all bashful. “Yeah….”

“You are a huge sap.”

“No I’m not, you are.”

“Yeah I am.”

@blood-red-hummingbee @jadelover69 @babyghoul138 @twtysevapr @angelwishess

@beneathsakurashade @sunnysidesevenup @bunniehunn @chillygourami @cheerleaderman

@taruruchi @moonyasnow tell me if you want to be tagged or not!

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #rory queens #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #ace trappola #twst ace #aceyuu #ace x yuu #cherrycard

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wheelercurse · 6 days ago

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me when I don't know the concept of character development:

#now tell me what happened between those moments?#there's two beats in the story that makes his arc clearer #Mike was in the wrong so he ran to apologize (in the pouring rain mind you)#Then Mike and Will promised each other to keep playing d&d #he DID want to play with Will (for the rest of his life btw)#but he thought he SHOULDN'T because it was part of growing up #like I get if you don't see the queer subtext but not understanding a basic character arc...

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kamitv · 10 months ago

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▷ Impatience

Sypnosis . What happens when you come home late to them when they’re needy. / Pairings . (Separate) Gojo x f!reader, Geto x f!reader, Toji x f!reader, Choso x f!reader, Nanami x f!reader / Content . afab!reader, non-curse au, dirty talk, unprotected sex, established relationships, oral sex f!receiving, dry humping, spitting, etc. / wc . 7.8k

[ MDNI ]

★ Gojo Satoru

“Fuuuuck, I missed you so much today,” He’d groan directly into your mouth, aching cock slipping in between your dripping folds so perfectly, “Missed’ this pussy, fuck.” Gojo whispers against your lips.

You’d let off a whine and your brows would pinch together at your boyfriend’s words, “W-Was only gone f-for an-, ahh, a-an hour longer, ‘Toru,” Your cunt narrowed around his long cock as he continued pushing into you.

To come home to a needy Gojo always ended the same— you laid out on the nearest surface beneath him as he worked his dick inside you and forced you to tell him about your extended day.

“Mhmm, I know,” He’d frown, sharp cerulean eyes boring down into your own so carefully, “Felt like forever though,” Gojo explains, nudging himself in inch by inch and watching how your eyes flicker and your lips part to release a sigh.

“You’re s-so,” Gojo rolls his hips down into you and you moan at the way his cock presses into the depths of your pussy— filling you up so perfectly, “Dramatic,” You finish, words coming out as a breathy moan.

Gojo bit his lower lip to conceal a smile. Oh how he loved watching your face contort into pleasure, he could watch the stress fading out of your eyes and being replaced with lust forever.

“M’not dramatic,” He huffs. The two of you were on your shared living room couch as he couldn’t even make it to the bedroom, needing to be inside you as quickly as possible.

Gojo’s got one hand intertwined with yours, pressing your fingers down into the soft couch cushion as he starts working up that pace of his.

“I missed my girlfriend,” Gojo groans, hips drawing back ever so slowly before he listens closely to the loud squelch of your cunt as his cock pushes back in. Biting his lip yet again, he smirks a bit, “Seems’ like she missed me too.”

Your neck arches a bit and you moan, the sound like music to his ears. “Toru, hahh-, you’re so big,” You mumble out due to the sheer stretch of his cock.

He can’t help but crack a full smile, his mind spinning a bit as your plush walls pulse around his veiny shaft. “Yeahh, but you take me so well every time, pretty girl,” Gojo praises, “Needy lil’ pussy’s always huggin’ my cock juuust right.”

Those lewd words of his make your face twist up but you can’t help but moan yet again as he slams down into you all at once.

“Hah, now tell me what held you up at work again?” Gojo requested amid his thrusts, despite watching you lose your breath.

You whine, “M-My coworker, mmgh-, h-he-“

Gojo’s cock twitched inside you, shifting slightly and purposefully angling into your cervix, “He?”

“M-Mmh-, y-yes Satoru, he!” You cry out, your hand squirming beneath his as Gojo’s larger fingers squeeze yours, “H-He… aagnh, fuck-, he messed up on some-, nngh, paperwork,” You just barely manage out.

The man above you tilts his head, eyes narrowing, and thrusts growing heavier. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just peers down at you with this look in his eyes.

You’d swear those blue irises of his were glowing with how intently he looked at you. Not that you were allowed much time to dissect that though as Gojo began fucking his cock down into you a bit harsher.

The sloppy sounds of his thrusts echoed throughout the room, all of which were followed by your moans and pleas for him to slow down.

Gojo swiftly moves his free hand in between your body and his, finding your clit without batting an eye and quickly pinching it, “So another man kept you from me?” He eventually breathes out.

He sounded upset, which kinda explains why he’s growing so rough with you— angry cockhead pounding into your cunt so viciously, as if to remind you of who you belong to.

“Toruu,” You whimper, “P-Please-, h-he’s, aah! H-He’s just a c-coworker,” You try your best to explain it to your lover but all your whines go through one ear and out the other.

Gojo rolls his eyes at you, “Yeah, a coworker who took up my girl’s time,” He argues, “Y’know what, call in sick tomorrow.”

“W-What?” You exhale heavily. With eyes as wide as ever, you couldn’t believe your boyfriend right now.

“W-What?” Gojo mocks you before you feel his thick cock shove impossibly deeper inside you, “You fuckin’ heard me. I said call in sick,” He voices out lowly. It was more of a command rather than a request at this point.

An airy little noise of disapproval leaves your throat, “Hhgn… I c-can’t just-“ His thumb swirls over your clit as his dick continues to split you open, your cunt wetting up his cock more and more with each thrust. Then his pelvis clashes down into yours a bit harder and your eyes roll back, “Ohmygod-“

“You can,” Gojo protests, pulling his hips back until he nearly slips out of you. Then he’s drilling right back in such an animalistic way.

“Toru,” You moan sweetly, his pupils dilating even more at the sound.

Even so, he has no plans on changing his mind, “Nah, it seems you forgot how I feel about other guys gettin’ in the way of us,” Gojo grunts. The sound of his heavy balls smacking against your ass as he beat his lengthy cock deep into your pussy was so overwhelming.

Your legs began to quicker a little and your back was lifting off the couch, “But h-he’s not-“

“Shut up,” Gojo cuts off. And you do, shutting your mouth obediently and whining instead, “Good girlll,” Gojo praises in that low voice of his. Then he pants and you swear you feel him in your stomach at this point, “Now hurry up ‘nd cum f’me, we gotta make up for lost time.”

★ Geto Suguru

Who allows you to get into your shared home perfectly fine at first, helping you take off your shoes, speaking in such a soft tone to you as he requests the events of your longer day.

You’d answer him honestly and explain how there was an error you had to stay and fix— to which Geto would soothe you with his understanding nature and gentle words.

Yet, the very second you sigh a little too heavily for his liking, he’s dragging you off to the bedroom and offering himself as a stress reliever.

“Suguruuu,” You mewl out, thighs spread over his handsome face with his big hands latched to your legs, fingers pressing into your skin as he aided you.

Those pretty purple-hued eyes of his would gaze right up into yours as you faced him, his tongue delving into your cunt and lapping up your sweetness into his mouth. His deep groans were like heaven against your cunt.

"Use me, princess," Geto groaned just before flattening his tongue against your dripping pussy and lapping it upward so very tenderly that it had you twitching and squirming above him.

You pant heavily, hips grinding over the wet pink muscle below for more friction in such a needy manner. Geto's thick fingers slid up along your body, caressing your tensed skin beneath his touch before he grabbed ahold of your hips and forced you to ride his face faster.

Although you couldn't see it, constantly was your boyfriend lifting his hips into the air as he feasted on your cunt like a man staved, his cock pressing up into the fabric of his sweats and giving himself the slightest bit of friction needed.

A sticky bit of precum was wetting up his boxers where his tip was, his fat cock so very desperate for you. But, he'd force himself to wait, your pleasure was more important at the moment.

Which is why his jaw is dropping a bit and his lips are cupping your pussy as he slurps your juices into his mouth, some slipping out from the corner of his lips and dribbling down his face. Not that he cared of course, especially not when you were above him whining and moaning so beautifully.

"Fuck Sugu-, that f-feels so good-, hhggn... ah!" You whine desperately above him. He's been at it for a minute now but his tongue is so damn skillful and long that you've got no idea how much time has truly passed.

Geto retracts his head only a little bit before spitting a fat glob of saliva up onto your cunt, "What a messy girl you are," He comments, his breath tickling the insides of your thighs, "Drippin' all into my mouth even when I'm not even moving."

Then he's leaning up again, his lips pressing into your sensitive clit and making you jump at the contact. A jolt of pleasure shoots throughout your body as he plants a bunch of messy kisses to your clit before suckling it into his mouth.

The tip of his tongue dashes around the sensitive bud and you reach a hand down, fingers curling into his hair as you roll your hips forward against his face for more.

"Mmmgh," Geto hums against you, "Yeahh, ride my fuckin' face, baby," He encourages, his words making you impossibly wetter as you do just that.

His tongue sinks back down and slithers into your cunt, searing against your plush walls as he moans into you. Your legs begin to close around his head and his fingers dig into your skin, "F-Fuck, m'gonna cum Sugu."

He just nods below you, lidded eyes revealing his zero intent on slowing down or stopping anytime soon. Your taste was so addicting to him, he could eat you out for hours and hours and never get tired.

Geto would have his mouth latched to your pussy until his jaw locked, and even then he'd still keep going. You could squirt on his face, beg him to give you a break, or even try pulling away from him but he'd always drag you back to him, tell you to take it, and request that you wet up his face again and again until he's satisfied.

Even as you cum in his mouth, his dick is throbbing in his sweats, twitching all over the place as it aches to be inside you. When you finally come undone and begin to pant softly above him, that's when he slows down.

"You can give me one more, yeah?" Geto hums with a sly smirk on his face, having yet to move an inch away from your pussy.

You shake your head, "M'tired Sugu..."

He frowns, "C'mon, you can't be tired after one orgasm. I thought we worked on that stamina of yours?" Geto whispers so softly as he turns slightly to kiss the inside of your thighs.

Pouting, "I had a long day..." You explain.

"Uhuh, and I'm trying to relieve you s'more baby," He tells you with an innocent look on his face, "C'mon, gimme a few more 'nd then I'll leave you alone."

"Suguru... you never leave me alone afterward," You huff out as you recall all the past times this exact scenario has played out.

Geto snickers, "That's because I've got a needy ass girl who likes beggin' for my cock afterward."

"I-," Your frown deepens, "I do not..."

"Yeahh ya' do..." He argues, "But it's alright, I like it when you're all needy 'nd start beggin' f'me."

With a slight groan, you shift above him a little, "...Shut up."

He tips his head back against the bed below and smiles, "Shut me up, c'mon. Put that pretty pussy on my mouth again."

Heat rushes to your face as he says that and almost instinctively, you just listen to him and sit right back down on his welcoming mouth.

★ Toji Fushiguro

Oh he hates when you come home late, as if he doesn’t do so himself all the damn time.

But the problem is that he’d be texting you begging-, no, never begging but, telling-, or ordering you to come home. Plethoras of I need you’s & look at what you’re doin’ to me’s followed by roughly five pictures of his thick and aggravatingly hard cock would ping to your phone while you’re in the middle of a meeting you didn’t have to attend.

And yes, you’ve explained this to your impatient partner Toji but does he care? Of course not.

So that’s why when you finally come home, you could barely into the damn house before he’s got that large veiny hand of his wrapped around your throat, tugging you into your household and slamming your body back against the front door to close it.

“Toji-“ You barely even get a chance to speak before he’s shoving his hot tongue into your mouth and shutting you up.

Your fiancé doesn’t care to hear your excuses, you’ve already texted them to him so, he’s grunting into your mouth and his free hand is moving to lock the door you’re up against.

His lips are hot and heavy against you, cologne dizzying your senses, bigger and much bulkier body pressing against you, and his hand limiting your oxygen.

“Told’ you I fuckin’ needed you,” Toji groans into your mouth as he trails a hand down and around your frame, quickly moving to grab a possessive hold of your ass, “Y’know how long I’ve been waitin’?”

You whine as his fingers curl into your ass cheek, squeezing so harshly before moving his lips to your jawline. “T-Toji, please, that meeting was-“

“Don’t care,” He hums so casually as he dips further down and to the side of your neck, sucking eagerly on your skin, “Forty-five fuckin’ minutes I’ve been waitin’ for you.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re such a big-, baby,” You stammer out as his hand shifts to your hip and he tugs you so that his one larger leg can press in between yours.

Toji scoffs against you and his hand leaves your throat, “I’m a big baby? Says the one who starts cryin’ from jus’ the tip.”

You grit your teeth and your hands go to his broad shoulders, “I do not…” You gasp as his thigh presses up against your clit, “You’re exaggeratin’.”

“Oh am I?” Toji chuckles, pulling his head up so he can look at your face, “Look at’cha now, can’t even handle a couple of kisses without lookin’ all fucked out.”

You frown at the man, “You couldn’t even let me get past the damn door before your hands were all over m-“

He shuts you up by lifting a hand to shove two thick fingers into your mouth, “God, you talk too much.”

A pout pulls at your lower lip as his fingers sink into your throat and press down on the back of your tongue. Your eyes gloss over a little and you gag.

His scared lip pulls up into a smirk, “Look at that fuckin’ pout… Aww, you mad?” Toji taunts.

God, you cannot stand him. Well, you can, that’s why you’ve got an engagement ring on your finger now— but still, he never fails to piss you off. And you’re pretty sure he likes pissing you off. He definitely gets a kick out of seeing you upset.

You move to graze his fingers with your teeth and he raises a brow.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare.” Toji warns.

You groan against him before letting out a tired sigh and slithering your tongue in between the two fingers lodged in your mouth. He flashes a smile at you.

Then he nods approvingly, “Yeahhh, tha’s it.”

Oh his cock was in pain due to how hard he was. And it doesn’t get any better when you pull your head back a little before pushing forward, sucking on his fingers like the obedient little fiancée he knows you to be.

Toji licks his lips in almost slow motion, “So fuckin’ sexy, doll. Y’know that right?”

You smile against his fingers briefly before you nod, “Mhmm…”

He sighs heavily as he watches you suck on him, cock twitching in his sweatpants every time you throat his fingers and bat those pretty eyes of yours at him.

Then, he practically loses his mind when you pull off with a loud pop before taking his wrist into your hands, spitting on the tip of his fingers, and then taking them right back into your mouth.

Toji groans at the sight, “Nasty lil’ slut,” He huffs out, “Suckin’ on my fingers like it’s my cock… you’re enjoyin’ yourself, huh?”

You smile yet again and nod, “Mmh…”

“Fuck, keep lookin’ at me like that ‘nd I’m gonna cum without even seein’ your pussy.” He warns.

That makes you far more eager than he expects it to and you tilt your head to the side and really start sucking on his fingers like they’re his dick.

Then, you pull off for a moment just to speak, “Put three in my mouth,” You request, sticking your tongue out and watching how his lips part and he nearly moans at the request alone.

Toji tips his head back ever so slightly, eyes getting lower as he shifts to hold three fingers to your lips, “You’re so fuckin’ nasty,” He whispers before pushing his digits in and feeling you hum against him, “Gonna make me cum from this, pretty girl…”

You twist your head a bit as you suck on him, running your tongue all in between his fingers, drool escaping out the corner of your lips, and one of your hands suddenly dropping from his wrists. Toji’s eyes flicker when your free hand grabs ahold of his cock through his clothes.

“S-Shit,” He hisses, “God, I love you,” Toji hums as your hand strokes his aching cock through his clothing.

You were all too perfect for him, sucking on his fingers, rubbing your palm against the outline of his clothes— he swears he’s never found himself about to cum from something so simple before.

Your mouth furthers on his fingers and your hand moves to slip into his sweats, making his body jerk forward when you grab his thick cockhead and run your fingers over it so teasingly.

“Fuuuck,” He groans with his jaw going slack, “The hell would I do without you-, mgh,” He grunts deeply as you stroke his tip carefully.

Toji’s hips buck into your touch and he’s trying so hard not to moan— he was really aching for you more than he’d let on.

A messy slick of precum gets all over your hand but it makes it easier for you to start jerking him off, your mouth still latched to his fingers for a moment before you pull off.

Then you kiss him and smile, “C’mon big guy, go ahead ‘nd cum f’me so you can fuck me properly.”

Oh he practically loses his sanity at that, body folding over and toward you as he rests his forehead on your shoulder and finally lets out that sexy moan he’s been keeping in.

You snicker as you jerk him off and you can feel his cock throbbing in your hand, the messy sounds of your fingers sliding along his thick shaft filling the air.

Toji tilts his head and his lips press against your skin but he doesn’t kiss you, just opens his mouth and pants, “M’so close, doll. Don’t stop, d-don’t you fuckin’ stop,” He groans against your neck, breath hot and body tense because of you.

You smile, “You’re so needy Toji…”

His teeth graze your neck for a moment as he nearly sinks them into your skin, “Don’t call me fucking needy.”

“But you are,” You voice out so sensually that it makes his head spin

Toji grunts and you swear you hear a different noise almost escape the back of his throat as your hand squeezes his cock. “M’gonna fuck the shit outta’ you after this,” He huffs, “Gonna make sure you can’t even-, aagh…. walk tomorrow.” He stammers out.

You move to whisper in his ear, “Mhm, I’m sure you will.”

“I’ll show you fuckin’ needy,” Toji utters through gritted teeth, your hand just jerking and jerking— his legs were starting to stiffen because of how good it felt.

“Stop talkin’ ‘nd cum f’me so you can fill me up,” You whisper teasingly.

Toji’s eyes roll back, “I’ll put a baby in you if you keep talkin’ like that.”

“Maybe I want you to,” You giggle.

Then your hand focuses on his leaking tip and he just couldn’t take it anymore, groaning at both your skillful hand and your teasing words before hot and thick ropes of cum are spurting out.

His hands ball into tight fists as he does so and he pants heavily beside you. And his groans were so loud, he was really worked up.

In one quick motion, he lifts his head from your shoulder and presses his lips into yours, “Fuckin’ love you,” Toji grunts into you.

And you’re smiling against him, “Mhm, love’ you too, ya’ big baby.”

Toji scoffs before pulling away from your lips, “Alright, call me a big baby one more time ‘nd see what happens.”

You stare at the man, noticing the slight smirk he has, “…But Toji… you are a big baby— never satisfied ‘til you get what you want.”

“Seems like you’ve got the roles here reversed, doll,” He huffs before pecking your lips one more time, “S’fine tho’, I’ll fix that soon enough.”

★ Choso Kamo

Coming home late to your needy boyfriend Choso is never a bad thing. If anything, you think you stay longer at work on purpose to tease the man.

When you get home wee hours into the night, all the lights in the apartment would be off, there'd be practically no sound throughout the place and you'd wonder if Choso was sleeping.

Of no surprise to you, he isn't when you make your way to the living room and see his legs spread as wide as ever as he watches some show playing on the large TV on the wall across the room from him. You'd carefully make your way around the couch and notice he's got his eyes shut and his head is rested slightly back on the couch.

How cute, he'd fallen asleep waiting for you. So what do you do as his loving girlfriend? Well, you move to straddle him and take a very comfortable seat in his lap, his entire body jolting awake at your presence.

The smell of your perfume would seep into his nose, the feeling of your thighs spread over his would make his body tense, and the way you'd wrap your arms around his neck as he woke up would have him letting out a sigh of relief.

"Hi Cho," You'd greet so lovingly, voice caressing his ear just before you plant a cute lil' kiss near it.

Choso's hands move on instinct, two large pairs of fingers grabbing onto each side of your waist. Then, before he even gets a second to say anything, you're tipping your head down to kiss him on the side of his neck like you always do.

He groans immediately and you feel his cock jump at the sudden kiss. Then he's gripping onto your waist tighter, "Missed' you baby..." Choso tells you in that deep voice of his, the sound making you shift against him.

Your kisses trail up and you find yourself right below his jaw, "Missed you too, Cho."

He inhales sharply as you then lick him before sucking on his skin a little, "Yeah?" Choso teases, sleepily dragging his hands down a bit and grabbing ahold of your hips before squeezing, "You stayed at work longer than normal..."

"I know, I know, m'sorry," You coo as you try to make up for it with the constant kisses to his neck.

And he's so sensitive too, squirming all over the damn place as you do so. You could feel his dick growing beneath you and the feeling encouraged you to get more comfortable in his lap.

Then you lift your face from his neck and meet those low brown eyes of his, "Heard me? I said I'm sorry Cho."

He stares at you for a long moment before cocking his head to the side, "Are you?" Choso asks.

You blink, "Of course I am!"

"Prove it t'me, baby," Choso requests, voice as deep as ever.

You could feel yourself twitching every time he spoke, the look in his eyes and faint touch on your body driving you crazy. "How do you want me to prove it to you Cho, hm?" You ask softly.

Just as his voice made you ache, your voice made the tip of his cock leak. He's lifting his hips up into yours without a second thought and he doesn't miss the way you gasp softly at his clothed cock pressing up into your cunt.

"Ride me," Choso says calmly, "If you're sorry, make it up t'me by makin' me cum."

You smile at the man, "That's it? Choso you're acting like I haven't made you cum without even touching you before..."

He scoffs slightly and leans back into the couch so lazily— a sleepy, but sexy smile spreading across his face as he does so. “You tied me up, that was different, baby.”

Tilting your head, you smile back at him, “Was it?”

“Mhm, ‘nd when I say ride me,” Choso’s hands slither down along your legs before finding a place on your thighs, “I mean jus’ like this.”

You just stare with wide confused eyes, “…What do you mean just like this?”

“Dry hump me,” He explains with a slick smirk on his face.

A pout pulls at your lower lips, “Like a damn teenager Cho? Why can’t we just-“

“Knew you weren’t sorry for stayin’ out later,” Choso huffs out as he turns his head to the side.

Again, you stare at him— trying to figure out if he’s being for real right now or if he’s just teasing. But, based on the aching cock you’re sitting on top of and the way Choso’s fingers are holding your thighs, you get the idea that he’s dead serious.

So, with a sigh, “Fine,” You tell him, earning a quick turn of his head to you.

Choso comforts himself a bit more, slouching back into the couch further and rolling his hips upward to get comfortable. Though, his little movement only causes his dick to press up into your cunt.

The layers in between you and him weren’t really helping how stupidly aroused you both were. With a soft sigh escaping from your lips, you start off slow— gently rocking your hips forward as if to test the waters a bit.

Your boyfriend, Choso, quickly lets out a huff. Nothing could beat that teasing sensation of your clothed cunt rubbing against his aching boner. His eyes lowered and despite a cute lil’ shade of red taking over his features, his fingers grip onto your thighs tightly.

“Yeahh, like that, baby,” He whispers.

You hum sweetly and lean forward, pressing your chest against his as you meet his low gaze, “This’ all you want?”

Choso nods carefully, licking his lips in almost slow motion as you just rock your hips back and forth in such a mesmerizing manner. You had such a good rhythm with your hips, perfectly rolling your cunt in small little circles over his cock and gasping every once in a while.

He soon let out a groan and tips his head back, “Just… keep-, mmgh, keep doin’ that.”

You smile at your all-too-sensitive boyfriend before leaning forward and connecting your lips to his neck, “Choso… Baby,” You whine,” Are you really gonna cum from this?”

He barely even nods at your words, hands slithering further up your body to grab ahold of your waist once more, “F-Feels like you’re actually— fuckin’ me,” His voice was husk already, deep but laced with the faintest whine just as you liked it.

“Yeah?” You utter tauntingly. Then you began bouncing slightly, rutting against his cock with more vigor as he humped up into you reflectively.

“Hahh…. Princess,” He whines, “S-Shit, I… I wanna fuck you.”

You lick a long and almost languid stripe up along his neck, stopping at his jaw and giggling, “So fuck me, Cho.”

All that’s let out from him is a groan before he’s flipping the two of you over, his much larger frame in between your legs as he stares down at you so very hungrily.

Then Choso’s drawing his hips back only a little before he presses down into your clothed pussy, the outline of his dripping cock nudging right in between your folds and making your eyes flutter for a moment.

Choso shakes his head at you, “Why’d you come home s’late?” He mumbles.

You let out the faintest moan as he works up a needy pace of humping his dick against you. “C-Choso-“

“Answer my question,” He breathes out as he leans his face down to your aroused expression, “Hm? Why’d you come home late? Y’know I missed you, right?”

You nod and he rolls his hips down into yours, cock mashing into your cunt and even grazing your clit, “H-Hahhh, I-I know Cho… I just-, mmh! Remember t-that promotion I told you about?”

He stares for a second before shrugging, “Yeah…”

“I needed to show… h-how serious I am about it,” You moan as you explain and your jaw goes a bit slack as he weighs his body down into yours a little and Choso grows a little rougher.

“Is a promotion more important than me?” He huffs out, whispering gently to you.

Your head shakes, “No, of course n-not-“

“I texted you, baby,” Choso cuts off, his face growing closer, “Told you I needed you.”

“Cho-“

“Needed your cunt on me,” He huffs out mindlessly, “Needed this, aagh…” His words are emphasized with a rougher thrust against you.

Your body jerks a bit and you have such a lewd expression on your face— almost as if you were getting fucked for real, “Choso,” You moan as he swipes a hand down and rubs over your clit through your clothes.

“I missed her,” He hums, “Missed’ how she talks to me…” All as he rolls that thumb of his over your clit and continues rutting his cock down against you, “You gonna cum f’me, baby?”

“M-Mhmm,” You whine as your hips lift into his movements.

Choso smiles a little, “C’mon then, give it t’me so I can fuck you for real.”

“Choso…” You murmur as his words go straight to your core, your body hot and aching for sweet release.

He nods and his eyes never once leave yours, “Uhuh, keep sayin’ my name.”

Your back begins to arch off of the couch and he grows faster with the way he humps his cock down into you, “Cho,” You whimper.

“Mhm, I’m right here baby,” He coos lovingly, “Act like I’m n’side you, cum just like you would on my cock, princess.”

And just like that, you were cumming, legs closing around your boyfriend as he watches your face and body twist up.

Then he starts kissing your neck and sucking on your skin possessively, “That’s my fuckin’ girl,” He whispers into you.

Then, once your body stills, he leans up and quickly pulls his shirt off, staring down at your wide glossy eyes. A heavy sigh leaves his lips as he drags his hands down and tugs on his drawstring.

“Ready t’see how much my cock missed you?” Choso teases as he tauntingly pulls on the waistband of his sweats.

You just nod, almost dumbly as you peer up at him, “Mhm.”

Then he’s smiling again, “Alright but, don’t start cryin’ when you can’t take it anymore, ‘kay?”

★ Nanami Kento

Okay, he’s literally the reason you come home late.

Because of course, working at the same company as your husband isn’t always the best idea. And yes, everyone knows Nanami hates working overtime.

But, when his pretty wife comes into his office after sending teasing messages for the past hour or so about getting home and taking a soothing bath together— Nanami finds himself straining through his clothes.

You’d walk in with that tight pencil skirt and lowly unbuttoned blouse, a way of dressing you know drives him insane.

Then there’s your voice caressing his ear as you walk around his desk and wrap your arms around his neck, whispering an oh-so-sweet, “Need any help in here, sir?” And you know what that honorific does to him when coming out of your mouth.

It all makes him shift in his seat, moving to lean over and rest his chin on his knuckles as he places his elbow on the armrest of his chair, “Yes but not with anything on this damn screen,” Nanami huffs.

You smile, knowing exactly what he means by that but deciding to play dumb anyway. Then you turn and press your lips into his cheek, “Awh,” You coo, glancing over to the neatly assorted paperwork on his desk, “Then, could it be that pile of work you need help with? It is almost time to go.”

Nanami sighs and lifts his head from his hand, turning to look at you whose eyes are busy elsewhere, “No, not that either,” He hums in that honeyed voice of his.

You turn to face him, your eyelids lowering as you find yourself a bit closer than anticipated, “Then what is it, Ken?” Your question comes off as innocent and you tilt your head.

His eyes narrow at you and he scans your expression momentarily. After which, his gaze meets yours, “You are so beautiful,” Your husband suddenly compliments.

And it never once fails to make your heart swell and a smile brightens up your face, “Thank you, hun,” You say before moving to peck his lips, “But where is this sudden sentiment coming from, hm?”

Nanami leans toward your face a little just as you pull your lips off of his and you find it so very endearing how clear it is what he wants from you. “I can’t compliment my wife?” He asks.

“You can.” Giggling, your hands retract from him as you stand up straight— watching how his expression sinks a little due to the loss of your touch, “But I’m just curious is all…”

Your head turns to that stack of paperwork again and you reach for the paper at the top of the pile, skimming over it as you do so.

Nanami watches, falling deeper in love with your every move and trying his best not to think with his cock and act on impulse— though he’d done it before, lord knows he wanted to bend you over his desk and-

“Ken, I thought we discussed this contract here,” You utter, breaking him from his lewd thoughts.

Nanami shakes his head and clears his throat. Then, he reaches a hand over and grabs a light hold of your free hand, trying to gain your attention, “We probably did but,” You turn and look at him as he lifts your hand to his face and lands a kiss across your knuckles, “Can we please discuss that later?”

You gaze at your husband for a long moment, finally noticing the bulge in his pants. “Oh. Is that what you need my help with?” You emphasize as you place the paper in your hand down and point to his crotch.

Nanami moves to intertwine his fingers with yours, “I know it’s unprofessional but, yes.”

You turn your body to face him and he tries to pull you closer but you don’t move. “Ken… if I handle that now we’ll be here longer than we’d like.”

He nods, “I’m aware.”

Frowning in disappointment at your impatient husband, you let off a sigh and push forward, stepping in between his legs. “I wasn’t aware I married such a needy man.” You tease as you draw your hand away from his.

Nanami quickly sits back in his seat, the chair creaking a bit as he does so. He’s got this almost pained look on his face, as if another second without you would kill him.

“Me? Needy?” Nanami huffs, clearly not aware of the look on his chiseled face.

You smile and begin to get down on your knees, the sight making his cock jump within his pants. “Yes, you.” You scoff, “Who else?”

Your husband parts his thighs further for you and smirks, “Between you and I, I am not the needy one in this relationship.”

You nod slowly as your fingers trail along his muscular thighs, the teasing movements causing his tip to drip so messily against his clothing. “So what do you call this then?” You utter, nodding your chin toward his erection.

Those delicate hands of your trail up to his belt and you begin to undo it so slowly that it pains him not to rush you. “You caused it,” Nanami argues.

You smirk, “That doesn’t answer my question, husband of mine.”

“Well, wife of mine, I don’t have time to answer questions right now,” He mocks, tipping his head to the side and watching you like a hawk as your hands finally near his cock, “M’Too hard to think straight.” He grunts.

And then finally, your hand is tugging his throbbing cock out, your eyes widening at the sight as if you hadn’t seen it a million times before. Nanami loves the way you admire him though, he just watches in awe at how your gaze travels along his thick and lengthy member, your mouth salivating in such a hungry way.

“C’mon, I don’t have all day…” Nanami rushes, to which you glance past his length and up at his face with a pout. “Oh don’t look at me like that, we’ve already been here five minutes past our working hours.”

You snicker and lean your face close to his cock just to push your lips to his weeping and flushed tip, “And whose fault is that?” You whisper before you kiss him.

He inhales sharp enough for you to hear, “Yours,” Nanami groans out to you.

Your lips move to wrap around the tip of his cock, tongue quickly swiping in between his slit and making the man shudder above you. Then, you pull your tongue away and look up at him again, “Mine, he says…” You hum to yourself before tilting your head.

Then you’re trailing kisses down the side of his dick until you get to the base, gently sucking on the underside of his cock where he’s sensitive and earning a deep groan that makes your cunt throb.

“…As if you’re not the one begging me to suck you off,” You huff out.

Nanami lands a heavy hand down on your head as you shift to drag your tongue upward along his length until you get to his pretty pink tip, swiveling your tongue around it and pulling off slightly to spit onto it.

“Oh don’t act like you didn’t want to do this,” Nanami argues back to you. Your gaze meets his and he stares at the way you open your mouth slowly, but… not to say something back to him.

Instead, your mouth is closing around his cock before he has time to process— yet another groan leaving his lips and echoing throughout his office. Inch by inch by inch, your mouth furthers down his dick with no problem.

Even as his cock enters your throat and your lips reach his base, you don’t gag or even choke. Nanami’s eyelashes fluttered at the tightness of your throat around him, trying not to groan too much despite it being hard not to when your mouth was so warm and wet around him.

“Fuuck,” He curses deeply, fingers curling into your hair, “I trained this throat well it seems…”

You whine against him and his body twitches. Slowly, you start to lift your head before you work up a pleasureful pace of bobbing your head— sucking on his cock all too well.

Nanami’s free hand grips onto the edge of his armrest as you go to work on him and his eyes begin to lift to his ceiling. Looking down at you with your mouth stuffed full of his cock would only lead him to cum too soon.

The wet sounds slipping from out your mouth as you sucked and licked on his dick filled the air, your eyes lowering as pleasing your husband like this only turned you on more than you already were. The two of you had been teasing one another all day.

Even from earlier that morning when Nanami woke you up by kissing at your neck so lovingly, whispering sweet nothings against your skin in that deep and sexy morning voice of his. He’s had you worked up since then so now, you’re sucking him off like you want him to pass out from it.

And he might because goddamn your mouth is like heaven around him. Your head bobs and twists, your throat opening up to take him in deep every time you push down, and a moan vibrates against him as his hand tugs at your hair every now and then.

Then there’s your tongue, slithering up and down and left and right, slicking against each vein in such a way that tells him you remember every single one.

“Oh fuck,” Nanami curses yet again, hips unconsciously bucking up into your mouth for more, “So good… Your mouth feels s’good on me, love.”

You give his cock one long and hard suck until you pull off with a loud pop, sticking your tongue out for a moment as you move a hand to jerk him off. “Yeah? Couldn’t wait til’ we got home, huh?” You tease.

He just shakes his head at you and watches through lidded eyes as you tap the tip of his fat cock on your tongue, smiling a little as you do so.

He pants, “Hahh… not when I have a perfect cocksleeve of a wife t’help me out…” Nanami says lowly.

And your face twists up at that, eyebrows pinching together slightly and pout pulling at your lower lip, “Ken…” You whisper, your hand tightening around his shaft as you give him quick pulls.

“M’sorry,” Nanami apologizes quickly, making you smile. “I-, aagh… I didn’t mean t-that….” He huffs out, clearly out of it as you jerk him off so perfectly, better than he ever could on his own.

You lean forward and purposefully suck on only his top, tongue lulling around it, in between his slit, pushing saliva out of your mouth and making it all the more messy before you pull him back into your mouth.

Then Nanami moans into the air, “Fuuck, n-no, I meant that…” He corrects, “You suck me off like a goddamn-“

You pull off for a second and smile, “Say it…”

“Whore,” Nanami grunts and you moan as you sink your mouth down onto him again, making his abs tense up beneath his shirt.

Your eyes gloss over as you take him all the way in, closing your throat around his cock and practically sucking the soul out of him. Then your hands sneak down and you cup his balls in your hand, feeling how some of the mixed saliva and precum has slipped down.

Nanami nearly kicks something as you do so, his head flying back as he moans out your name. The sound makes your pussy so unbelievably wet, eyes glancing up to get a good look at your husband who was so close to finishing in your mouth.

Then you see him take a shaky hand and tug at that bright yellow tie of his, yanking it loose and messily unbuttoning some of the buttons on his shirt so that he could breathe properly.

Not that that really helps him escape that damn mouth of yours. As you lift your mouth to breathe, both of your hands move to make up for it, your lips and tongue focusing on his tip all over again.

“Goddamn-,” Nanami’s breath hitches and his eyes begin to roll back, “Y-You’re gonna make me-,” He groans again as you slurp his tip into your mouth sloppily, hands twisting and tugging at his cock so damn deliciously that he actually does accidentally kick his desk in front of him.

There’s a thud that follows but neither of you pay any attention to it. You’re too busy making his head spin with that mouth of yours and Nanami’s trying not to-

Whatever the hell he was trying not to do, he does— abrupt and warm ropes of cum shooting into your mouth. Nanami’s body hunches forward as he does so, almost as if he were trying to escape your mouth for a second.

Your hands only move out of the way though, mouth sinking all the way down on his cock so that you don’t miss a single drop of him.

Nanami’s chanting your name lowly over and over as he cums, small little I love you’s and you’re so perfect’s flowing out his mouth as he does so.

Once he’s done and you finally pull your lips off of his cock, you’ve got a mouth full of cum and you purposefully don’t swallow yet. Looking up at your husband with wet eyelashes and batting them at him, you roll your tongue around in your mouth and show him what a mess he’s made in there.

Nanami practically chokes at the sight before averting his eyes, “Don’t do that…” He hums, “J-Just…. Swallow it.”

Your hands go to his knees and you push up a little to lean toward his face, forcing him to look at you. Then, his eyes fall on your mouth and he watches as you close it and gulp loudly, sticking out your tongue afterward for him with a cute ah sound following.

Nanami shakes his head at you and scoffs, “Nasty slut.” He degrades.

You flash him a smile, and lean up for a kiss, “You know you love me that way,” You murmur as your lips near his.

With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he moves a, still shaky, hand to your jaw and tugs your face to his, “I do. I really do,” Nanami says before kissing you passionately despite his taste on your tongue.

After which, he pulls away and gazes deeply into your eyes. You reciprocate the stare and even smile at him again.

He grins, “Promise I’ll thank you for this properly when we get home.”

You nod, “You better.”

“Mh,” He hums before tilting his head, “Or I could lay you out on this desk and repay you now?”

Blinking, you shrug, “Up to you, Ken.”

He stares for a moment, licking his lips at the thought of being in between your legs. Then, he shakes his head, “Nope, I’ll make you wait ‘til we get home.”

Your eyes go wide, “But-“

Nanami chuckles, “That’s what you get for calling me needy.”

19K notes · View notes

velvetcrimsonkisses · 5 months ago

Text

Nanami who drops to his knees the moment he arrives home, the feeling in his chest; indescribable because he knew his wife was upset… so very upset…

He loathed the guilt that clung to him as he had to work late and miss the date they planned just a few days prior. The front door creaked open as you heard him tiredly shuffle in, tossing his keys onto the counter with a bit more force than he intended. He rolled his neck side to side, in a futile attempt to release some of the stiffness in his muscles. He kicks off his shoes, not bothering to bend down and untie the laces, before commencing his walk of shame to your shared bedroom.

Each step felt heavier, causing his heart to only beat faster every second. A thin sheet of sweat began to form on his brow as he approached closer and closer to the room. His fingers, diligently thread into his tie to pull it undone, tossing it mindlessly on the floor. A few buttons of his shirt came undone but it did nothing to relieve the growing tightness in his chest. He hesitantly reached for the door knob, and with a deep breath he opened the door as slowly as possible.

And there you were. The soft light of the room revealed your silhouette as you sat up on the bed, your arms crossed over your chest tightly, as your eyes bored into him like daggers. No, you weren’t actually upset and he had obviously a good reason for his absence, but it was the first time he missed something like this– and the sting of it lingered in the room.

He tentatively stepped closer to you, his expression full of guilt and desperation, like a puppy who had been scolded. The weight of an unspoken apology creeping on him.

“Darling… I’m sorry," he whispered, barely audible. But he knew it wasn’t enough. No reaction from you, you wouldn't even turn to look at him, the silence between the both of you was suffocating. His fingers graze over your hand as his knees buckled, threatening to give away under the weight of guilt.

He falls to his knees before you, taking your hand in his. “Please, look at me, honey…” pleading eyes looking up at you, raw emotion in his voice as he presses a soft kiss on your delicate hand. His fingers intertwined with yours as you finally grace him with your gaze, the eyes he so dearly loved finally on him. His grip was soft yet pleading, almost as if he was afraid you’d let go.

“I feel terrible…” kiss “It will never…” kiss “happen again…” kiss

Each one of his kisses had you in trance and you truly believed him, Nanami wasn’t the man to tell you empty words. You look down at the mess of the man on his knees for you, your hand comes to his cheek, caressing it.

“I forgive you…” You utter, as you look at him, into his eyes of honey.

Those three words…

That was all he needed to hear. His breath was caught in his throat and for a moment he just stared at you before taking a deep breath. Relief washes over him and all the guilt slowly disappears. His head drops into your thighs and rests there a moment, still holding your hands.

“I will spend an eternity making it up to you…” he finally speaks up. His statement makes you smile. You thought he was joking but he wasn’t.

“Starting now,” he declares, a spark of confidence returning to his body.

Without breaking eye contact, he lowered his head down, his lips brushing softly against your knees. His kisses are tender and calculated. He knew exactly what he was doing. His lips trailed along your thighs, the warmth of his breath sending soft shivers up your skin.

You sighed softly, your fingers threading through his hair, delicately pushing it back from his face. You wanted to see him, to really look at him, at the man you loved now between your legs.

His kisses trailed higher and higher. Nanami was a smart man. He knew just what to do and how to ease the weight of the situation from your mind, to make you forget.

“You’re so gorgeous” He mumbles in between kisses. A red tint creeping up on your face at those simple words. “But you know that already, don’t you?” he presses a kiss just below your navel. “I tell you everyday…” He whispers, right into the heat between your legs. Your back arches up off the mattress and he knew he just had to have you already.

“May I?” he asks, his pointer finger hovering right over where you needed him most. You gave him a quick nod and that was all he needed. He slowly slides your panties down your legs before begging to devour you, entirely.

Nanami learned everything that made his pretty girl feel good, and he planned to do everything tonight. Every flick of his skilled tongue had you in a chokehold, the way he held your legs open with his strong arms all while still on his knees. He explored every inch of you, lapping up everything you gave him, his fingers joining in to only make you feel that much better.

Orgasm after orgasm had your mind hazy but Nanami had to make sure you knew he was sorry. And he did make good on his promise. He never ever forgot again.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami drabbles #kento nanami #nanamin #nanami smut #jjk nanami #nanami kento x reader #kento smut #kento x reader #jjk kento #nanami x reader smut #nanami x y/n #BRO I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS ALL DAYYYG

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sunni-stuff · 4 months ago

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Everything changed when that pregnancy test read positive.

The day you fumbled into his office, bearing what you thought to be bad news, John's excited face threw you for a loop.

Wasn't he supposed to be upset? Tell you that he didn't want to have a kid with someone he didn't fully care about? Why was he crying? Why did he embrace you so tenderly?

"I'll be there for both of you, Dovie," Price reassures in the nook of your neck, arms caging you against his chest.

Take care of both of you.

Both?

"M-Mr. Price, with all due respect—"

Price cuts off your protests. He leads you out of his office. His large hand grips your waist more possessively. "Go rest your feet up in the lounge; I'll take care of everything." His lips press to the crown of your head, ushering you away gently at the reception entrance.

You were supposed to have one fun night, not to be locked in for the rest of your lives.

Your days of working at a desk were replaced with John's house. It was far from the bustling base you had grown used to. The space was warm and homey. Bits of memorabilia were scattered about. Medals adorned the walls, and old photos sat on the shelves.

John said you only have one job now: making yourself at home.

There was so much space that you didn't know where to start or even how to start! It's not like there was a plan for having your boss's child! So much was happening so fast it left you overwhelmed, sitting on his couch with nervous hands. "Mr. Price, I'm really not sure about all this; I mean... what we did was a big mistake, right?"

From upstairs, you hear John laugh. He's been up there all morning, fixing the nursery for your child. He wanted to create a special room for them, saying that his kid deserves nothing but the best. Heavy footsteps announce his presence as he closes the distance between you. Calloused fingers grip your chin, forcing you to look into his ocean eyes. "You don't want this?"

His touch has you melting, words dying on your lips as you get lost in those eyes. God, why did he look at you that way? Churning like laundry, your gut writhes. A violent spin cycle grips your innards, knotting and wrenching them mercilessly. "I never—I never said that; I just think we're taking things too fast, don't you?" The half-hearted mumble escapes your lips, unconvincing even to yourself.

John's expression shifts; his eyebrow raises in slight scrutiny. "If you believed that, you wouldn't be here."

He's right.

"I do-"

He cuts in swiftly, voice firm. "You don't."

John's grasp tightens on your chin. He leans in, eyes intense. Your heart races. His lips brush yours. The kiss—chaste yet electric. A moment suspended in time. Emotions flood through you both, unspoken but palpable. "You have me. Whatever you want is yours, all you have to do is say the word."

John waits, poised for your word. His eyes betray a craving—silent, deep, and raw.

He belongs to you. He's all yours.

Your lips purse in a line, lip caught between your teeth.

Anything you want?

"I don't like the color of the nursey..."

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

❥ I wasn't originally gonna do a part 2 but... I really like this one, next fic will be longer, possibly fluff and smut maybe who knows ❥

#captain price x reader #captain price #captain john price #john price #call of duty #cod x reader #sunshine sunni

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seospicybin · 6 months ago

Text

THE FUCKBOY NEXT DOOR.

PART I

Bangchan x reader. (s,a)

Chapters: Part II / Part III / Final.

Synopsis: Having issues to break up with your boyfriend, you seek help from the boy next door and the number one fuckboy in the area, Chan. (10k words)

Author's note: I went through a nasty break up a few weeks ago and this is basically just me trying to cope by being delulu about having a fuckboy Chan as a neighbor. Enjoy x

It becomes a habit now that Chan doesn't know where he is when he wakes up in the morning.

The first thing that he'll do is retrace everything to last night. He was DJ-ing at a club, had a few drinks in between, met a girl who was eyeing him the whole night, had a few more drinks, there was a little touching and a quick makeout session in the dark alley and people can guess what happens after that

So this is where he is right now, the girl's bedroom and he can recall everything that happened last night except the girl's name.

"Fuck!" Chan mutters under his breath.

Judging from how bright the sun is outside, he knows he only has a little window to make his escape so he quickly gets off the bed as calmly as possible. He then tiptoes around to gather his clothes and put them on without making any noise.

However, he fails at it as the head from his belt hits the bed frame and the clanging of metal meets metal echoing in the room.

The girl steers on her sleep and rolls over to the side, she brushes her hair away from her face, catching Chan putting his belt on.

The plan to make a quick getaway has come to a failure but he keeps his cool, continuing to buckle his belt and then plants his hands on each side of his waist.

"Morning," He awkwardly says with a forced smile.

"Morning," the girl replies with a smile then props an elbow against the mattress, sending the duvet sliding down her body and exposing her bare chest to him.

Chan might have been a little drunk when he met her but damn, his fuckboy radar works well even under the influence of alcohol.

"You're leaving already?" She asks, flipping her hair to the back to expose more of those beautiful mounds to him.

Chan has to tell his pervy brain to focus actively, he looks away and picks up his jacket from the floor.

"I promised a friend to help him move out today," He lies, then pretends to check the time on his phone, "And I'm kind of late."

The girl nods then twirls her hair around her finger, "Well then... when can I see you again?"

"I hope soon," Chan says with his charming grin that disguises the insincerity in his answer.

The girl smiles at that which confirms that the grin works, "But seriously, I can't wait to see you again," she says.

"I'll call you," he says because that's what he can promise her at the moment but whether he'll do it or not is uncertain.

"But you don't have my numbers yet," she says with her eyebrows wrinkled in suspicion.

"No, I'm sure you already did," he says, convincing her by scrolling the contacts on his phone.

"Yup. I have your numbers already," he lies again, showing her a random contact on his phone for a quick second.

"But my name is Thalia," she says, cleverly catching the name on the contact.

"Yes, of course, you're Thalia," he says with utmost confidence and his ultimate weapon of a dimpled smile.

The girl seems alarmed though. She sits up on the bed and clutches the duvet close to her chest, "We're going to see each other again, right Chris?"

"Yes," he answers without a beat, and at this point, lying is as easy as breathing to him.

"Can I get a kiss before you leave?"

"Sure," he says, coming around the bed to give her a quick peck on the lips.

The girl smiles when he lets go and watches as he walks to the doorway, "I'll call you, Tanya."

"It's Thalia," she corrects him with an apparent displeasure on her face.

Chan shoves his phone into the pocket of his jeans and takes the time to properly bid her goodbye. Nothing a girl likes more than a sweet mouth and a little assurance, he'll give her exactly that.

"I'll see you soon, Thalia," Chan says with a smile.

"See you soon, Chris," and the girl naively believes him, if only she knew that this will be the last time they're seeing each other.

Yet again, Chan makes another successful getaway.

The warm weather of spring makes it a pleasant walk from the bus stop to his apartment building. He wants to stop somewhere for breakfast but his head feels heavy from the hangover, he just wants to go home as soon as possible, have a bowl of cereal then take an aspirin for the pounding headache.

In the lobby, he makes a quick stop to collect his mail and takes a quick check at it, sorting them out on the spot so he knows which ones he should bring upstairs.

From the corner of his eyes, Chan catches his neighbor, you with your boyfriend chatting by the elevator. He notices the gestures, the expression, and the whole interaction, it doesn't take a genius to know that something is going on there that the naked eyes can't see.

Chan throws the unnecessary mail into the trash bin nearby and walks to the elevator, hearing the little conversation going on between you and your boyfriend.

"...the waffles were delicious. We should have breakfast there again," the boyfriend says as he looks at you, "What do you think?"

"Yeah," you meekly answer while looking at the little screen that shows the floor the elevator is stopping in.

Chan tries to remain invisible but his eyes accidentally make contact with your boyfriend so he may as well make his presence known.

"Hi, neighbor," he greets, he knows your name but you seem to prefer to be called that way.

You do what you always do whenever you meet each other in the building, give him a quick judging look and a courteous smile.

"And hi neighbor's boyfriend," he greets your boyfriend next.

"Hi," your boyfriend greets back, "Chris, isn't it?"

"Yes and you are Lee," Chan responds.

"Right. So how was your Friday night?" Lee initiates a small talk.

"I believe it wasn't as good as yours," Chan playfully answers.

"Oh, we just stayed in and watched a movie, right baby?" Lee says, putting his arm around your shoulder.

All of a sudden, you take a step forward and say, "It's here."

The elevator doesn't chime until a moment later but you seem to be more than eager to get in. You turn around to give your boyfriend a quick hug.

"I'll try to leave early so we can have dinner together," Lee says with a quick kiss on the cheek.

"It's okay. Take your time," you say with a faint smile.

Chan quietly gets into the elevator and holds the door open for you, he tries not to look at what's happening in front of him not out of politeness but it's just painful to watch.

"I'll call you," Lee adds, catching your hand as you enter the elevator and kissing it.

"Okay," you say then wave your hand at him.

To help you get out of it, Chan releases his finger off the buttons and sends the doors sliding shut.

"Bye, baby," Lee says for the last time before the doors completely close.

It's just another awkward elevator ride with you and he'll usually try to endure it but after watching all that and trying not to say anything is hard, he can't help but impose.

He glances at you to check whether you're ready to hear about what he has to say but you always have the same stoic expression. Then it occurs to him that he has never seen you smile impolitely or out of joy, or even hear your laugh, but maybe after you hear what he's about to say, he'll get to see a different facial expression on you.

"Oh, man! That was painful to watch," he sighs as he keeps looking straight ahead at his reflection in the shiny furnace of the elevator.

There's no one else in the elevator so you're fully aware that he's talking to you but you don't respond until a while later.

There you go, with your judging look and stoic expression, looking at him as you say, "Excuse me?"

Chan doesn't want to sound rude but beating around the bush isn't his thing, he prefers to be straightforward. He knows it's all based on assumptions but he's pretty sure his judgements are pretty accurate.

He's going to just do it and lay out the facts, he turns to the side, then leans his back against the cold surface of the elevator.

"Your shoulder tightens when he called you baby and the fact you lied about the breakfast tells me that you didn't actually like his choice of restaurant," he pauses to let out a cynical chuckle, "the waffles weren't that good, I guess?"

When he wants to see a different facial expression on you, he doesn't mean seeing your angry one, but oh well, the damage has been done.

"Because I'm a good girlfriend that's why I let him choose the restaurant," you become defensive all of a sudden but that's an unconvincing answer.

"No, you let him choose out of pity," he simply remarks, "And just now, your nostrils flared when I pointed it out."

With all of these signs combined with his personal experiences, Chan narrows it out to one conclusion. He looks at you in the eyes and says, "You're about to break up with him, don't you?"

It looks like you've been slapped right on the face except that the slap doesn't come from someone, it's from the truth that comes out of Chan's unfiltered mouth and he instantly regrets it for meddling in in someone else's business.

"I'm sorry, but why are we having this conversation?" You ask, crossing your arms together in front of you.

"It's not like you're any better. You slept around, you're scared of commitment and now, sticking your nose at my business. You are the kind of person that I deeply despise!" You angrily say with your chest heaving.

It seems like you're saying all of those things about him out of anger because he sees right through you but now he knows why you always give him that judging look. He's the one who started it so yeah, okay, maybe he deserves that but that doesn't change the truth. The problem is what he said and your response, they're heading in the opposite direction.

"I think someone has her panties in a twist," Chan coyly responds.

"Look, there's nothing wrong with wanting to break up. That doesn't make you a bad person," he adds and decides to end the talk right there.

It gets quiet in this enclosed space and it's already suffocating as it is but how lucky that he has to patiently wait for the elevator to ride through three more floors to get out of here.

When the elevator finally dings open, Chan lets out a breath he doesn't know he's been holding but he's not the one in a hurry to exit both this space and the situation. He stays where he is and lets you out first.

When he thinks you don't have anything else to say, you stop right outside the elevator and look at him with a piercing gaze.

"Don't, for one second, think that you had any effect whatsoever on my panties!" You emphasize every word in anger, then storm off.

Know what? Maybe Chan should skip the bowl of cereal and take two aspirin instead. As for you, maybe you need to chill the fuck out.

Just because you've been neighbors with Chan for the past three years doesn't mean that you know each other on a personal level.

All you know about him is that he's a DJ which explains why there's always music playing in his apartment, he always wears a sleeveless top to showcase his muscles, and he always has a stupid grin on to show off the stupid dimples on his stupid face, an annoying Australian accent and from how many times you caught different girls taking a walk of shame out of his apartment, it's safe to say that he's the number one fuckboy in the area

So how dare he say all of that stuff in the elevator when he doesn't know anything about you at all? Moreover, what does a fuckboy like him know about relationships?

It shouldn't be hard to ignore because it's something you usually do but gosh, the memory of the conversation still vexed you a few days later.

Then it hits you that it bothers you so much because deep down, you know what he said is true. You've been wanting to break up with your boyfriend and hearing that comes from someone outside that relationship only solidified that thought.

There's nothing wrong with your boyfriend, Lee is nice, too nice even, and when you think about it, maybe that is the problem, he is too nice and that leads you to another problem, you don't know how to break up with him without hurting his feelings.

But you know who can help you with that? Someone who has a lot of experience in breaking up with people.

Oh, what a joy that you find the answer right across your door!

Before you get to ask for his help though, you're fully aware that there's another thing to do and there's no other way to do it but walk up to his apartment, knock on his door, and apologize.

As you're standing there in front of his apartment door, you're dreading it. All sorts of thoughts crossed your head like why did you have to be so riled up that time in the elevator? Why did you have to say that thing about the panties? Just why? Ugh!

Let's just get it over with, you mutter inside your head.

With hesitant hand, you knock on his door and then hold the urge to turn around and run back to your apartment. You let yourself take a step back as you wait for him to come for the door.

Do not open the door, do not open the door, you chant inside your head while tapping your foot against the floor. However, things are not always going the way you want.

The door swings inward and a second later, Chan appears with disheveled hair and he only has one arm in the sleeve of his t-shirt, then you spot a girl's shoes next to his feet.

Oh no, please don't say you're coming at the wrong time.

You reflexively take another step back but he grabs your forearm and then opens the door wider, showing you that there's a girl there.

"It's my neighbor, she's here to remind me about the tenant meeting," he says to her.

The girl looks at you rather suspiciously and crosses her arms together in front of her as she glares at Chan.

"No. Don't you dare try to get out of this, Chris!"

"But it's true. We have to leave now," Chan says, then gives you a look that tells you to lie along with him, "Right?"

Running a quick assessment of the situation, you're certain that Chan is trying to get himself out of it to avoid having a difficult conversation with the beautiful lady. You hate to be the accessory to his crime but if this means that it would help you earn his forgiveness...

"The pigeons!" You make up a lie on the spot.

"The pigeons are ruining our rooftop garden so we held this urgent tenant meeting," you add with what you hope is a convincing smile.

"Oh, those damn pigeons!" Chan heavily sighs with a phony expression.

The lie makes your throat dry and your cheeks hurt from forcing a smile, you have to keep it going as the lady considers whether to believe that the tenant meeting is true or not.

Chan grabs his jacket from the clothes hook and puts it on, "We'll continue this later, okay?" He says to her.

Without waiting for her answer, he gets out of the door and drags you with him to go to your apartment. Once both of you get inside, he immediately closes the door behind him and lets out a long sigh.

"Oh, wow!" He exclaims once he realizes that he's inside your apartment.

He allows himself further inside and leisurely walks around your apartment, checking your kitchen, trailing his fingers on your book collection on the shelf, and observing the potted plants lining up on the window sill.

He walks back to the middle of the room and takes another 360-degree look around the apartment, then nods in approval.

"So, this is what the inside of your apartment looks like," he says in a cryptic tone.

Not sure if he wants you to respond to that or if should respond at all. You choose to remain silent and only respond when his intentions are intelligible.

Chan then sits on the sofa, making himself comfortable, and looks at you, then at what you're holding in both hands.

"Is that for me?"

The jar of cookies you've been unknowingly holding in your hands is a token of apology and it is for him.

"Yes, it is for you," you say, handing it to him with both hands.

"I'm sorry about the other day," you sincerely apologize, but you know you have to let him know what you're apologizing for, "for what I've said to you. I'm terribly sorry."

"Well, since you're helping me with the uh... situation," he coyly says as he scratches his eyebrow, "consider us even."

See? That wasn't so hard. You feel bad for lying to the girl but at least, you've been forgiven.

"Thank you," you add with a smile.

Chan doesn't say anything else but opens the lid and takes a cookie out of the jar. He gets comfortable on the sofa, sitting slumped with his legs spreading wide, and then he takes a big bite of the cookie.

It doesn't take long for him to notice that you have something else to say to him other than an apology.

Before he gets to it, you force yourself to start speaking.

"So, Chris..." you call, then abruptly stop talking. You suddenly have a second thought about asking for his help.

"What's up?" He asks while chewing on his cookie.

It's at the tip of your tongue but your mouth feels like they're sewn shut. You clasp your hands together and muster up the courage to just blurt it out.

"Do you want something to have with the cookies?"

You swear you plan on asking for his help but somehow, your mouth saying a different thing.

"Milk would be nice," he answers.

"Milk. Yes, I have milk," you awkwardly say, slowly making your way to the kitchen like a walking dead.

You take a carton of milk from the fridge and while pouring it into a glass, you're scolding yourself for being so cowardly.

After taking a moment to take a deep breath and muster up the courage to ask, you walk back to the sofa with the glass of milk in hand. With a smile, you hand it to him.

"Thank you," he says, his eyes catching something in your eyes.

You immediately break the eye contact and take another step back, standing and watching him finish his third cookie then wash it down with a sip of milk.

"I hope you don't mind that I'm going to stay here until the girl leaves my apartment," he informs.

"Oh?" You meekly gasp.

"But I can leave if you're uncomfortable," he says as he sits straight on the sofa.

"No, it's fine," you shortly reply, "Take your time."

"Okay, thanks," he says, reclining back on the sofa and continues munching on the cookies.

You can't decide if he stays longer than you expected is a good thing or not. You use the opportunity to reconsider it and walk to the kitchen to get out of his sight.

"Do you need help or not?" You quietly ask yourself as you pour yourself a glass of water.

Why is it so hard? He's right there. All you need is to go and ask for his help.

The water sloshes out of the glass as you fill it too full and you reflexively back away to avoid getting water all over the front of your dress.

"Everything good there?" Chan asks in a slight panic.

That's it! Enough time has passed from overthinking it! You walk up to him and just do it.

"You're right," you blurt out, "I've been wanting to break up with my boyfriend."

Sensing that it turns serious, Chan slows down his chewing and puts away the cookie jar. You expect the I-told-you-so grin on his face but no, he looks saddened instead.

"Things aren't working out," you openly share with a sad sigh.

You take a seat on the ottoman facing the sofa and sadly sigh, "I've been wanting to break up with him for a week now but I just don't know how."

"How long you've been dating each other?"

"Three years," you answer.

"Wow," Chan lowly gasps in awe.

Three years is not a short time, he understands why you hesitate to break up and it isn't an easy decision either.

"I need your help," you hopelessly say, unintentionally becoming vulnerable in front of him.

"My help?"

"Help me how to break up with him," you further explain.

"Of all people, why me?" He asks in utter confusion.

It's hard to answer that without being rude, you decide to let him process the question until it leads him to the answer. After a while, he lets out a dry chuckle and nods, "Okay, yeah. Make sense."

Chan takes another minute to accept the fact that his help is needed because he knows how to break up with someone without feeling awful about it afterward.

"I guess you want to let him down gently?"

"Yes," you answer.

"Well..." he inflates his cheeks then lets the air out through his pursed lips, "You can break up with him through a text."

Which part of 'let him down gently' did he not understand? How is it a good idea to break up through a text? But okay, it's just one suggestion, you give him the benefit of the doubt for now. Who knows he'll come up with better suggestions.

"I'm sorry. No, I can't do that," you kindly refuse his suggestion.

"You can send it when he's sleeping," he adds.

Oh, God! He gives you an even worse suggestion instead of better ones. You know what? This is a bad idea and you regret asking for his help.

"I don't—" You stop yourself from talking and get up from your seat.

"I'll just check if the lady is still..." Your words trail off as you walk towards the door and check through the peephole first, then you get out of the door to check his apartment next.

"Hello? Excuse me?" You shout from the doorway but no one is answering you.

You take it the lady has left and walk back to your apartment to deliver the news to the rightful owner of the apartment.

"She already left," you tell him.

Chan lets out a sigh and closes the cookie jar, he finishes the milk to its last drop and then gets up from the sofa.

"Thank you for the cookies and the milk," he says with his signature grin.

"No worries," you reply, trying so hard to hide the disappointment in your voice.

Chan holds the cookie jar in one arm and takes a step closer to you, "if you need help on how to write breakup texts, I'm just across the hall," he says.

You don't respond to that but keep a smile on for him as to seem polite.

"And good luck!" He says with gentle pats on your shoulder.

The second he walks out the door, you collapse onto the sofa and dread it even more than before. Turns out, asking for his help is not helping at all.

The next day, you meet him as you collect your mail in the lobby and it's hard to ignore him when his mailbox is next to yours.

"G'day!" Chan greets you as he leans the side of his body against the wall while sorting his mail.

"Good day!" You respond and hurriedly walk toward the elevator. You push the button to summon it to the lobby and hope it comes soon enough for you to avoid talking to Chan.

Of course, things don't go as you want it. He comes just in time for the elevator about to arrive, he crumples a few letters in his hand into a ball and then tosses it into the trash bin.

"How did it go?" He asks.

"Pardon?" You nonchalantly respond.

Good thing that the elevator chimes open and you can pretend to forget about what he asked you a while ago. You get inside while clutching your mails in hands in front of you but it's not safe yet as you have to share the elevator ride with him.

"So... the break-up texts? Did you do it?" He asks again, going to the corner of the elevator and leaning his back against it.

"Chris, I think you can't just end a three-year relationship with a text," you put it as nicely as you can.

"Yeah, I reckon," he innocently answers.

It seems like Chan can't tell the difference between what is easy and what is right. It isn't a good idea in the first place to ask for help from someone like him who doesn't consider other people's feelings except his own.

"What are you going to do then?" He asks, shifting his weight on one leg.

Since his help is not helping at all, you have no answer to that yet. This should be something you have to figure out on your own in the first place.

"I'll figure it out," you not-very-convincingly answer.

Chan crosses his arms in front of him, making the muscles and veins on his arms more evident under the fluorescent light of the elevator.

"Lee seems like a nice guy," he remarks with a deep inhale of air.

Well, if you have to compare your boyfriend to Chan, then yes, Lee is a really nice guy. Lee excels in a lot of things, including how to treat a person with feelings.

"Yes," you settle with a simple answer.

"A drawn-out break up is only going to end in a big scene," he says, "Just saying."

Chan has a point. It's worse to prolong the pain for both you and Lee, you can't keep pretending that the relationship works and it's unfair that you keep Lee oblivious about all this.

"We can practice, you know," he offers.

"Practice?"

"On how you're going to break up with him," he explains.

He comes up with a better suggestion this time and is almost endearing even but again, he wouldn't know how a person with real feelings reacts to a break-up which makes you unsure if the practice would be any help.

The elevator is about to arrive anyway so you decide to skip on responding to his offer. Once it chimes, the doors part open and you take the first turn to get out with Chan getting off after you. You turn to the left to your apartment while he turns right. You take the key out of your pocket to unlock the door and push your way in while clutching your mail close to your chest.

"You know where to find me if you need help," Chan says just before you close the door to your apartment.

Hard pass, you answer in your head but you put on a smile for his kind offer, then close the door

Okay, you admit it. You were too haste when you said that you didn't need his help. You were doing fine for these past few days, you've been avoiding meeting your boyfriend to give you some more time to think of the best way to break the news to him until he calls you.

The phone rings and you just stare at it, considering whether to pick it up or not. If you pick it up, that means you have to lie to him and if you don't, it'll alert him that things are, in fact, not okay.

The latter seems like a better idea so you pick it up after taking a long, deep breath.

"Hi, baby. Am I calling you at the wrong time?"

Not entirely wrong but it would be nice if he didn't call you, you answer in your head.

"Yeah, sorry, I was in the bathroom," you lie.

"Coconut shrimp for dinner. What do you think?" he asks out of the blue.

"That sounds nice," you easily respond.

"I know you'll like it but, babe, do you mind getting us a bottle of wine on the way?

"I'm sorry?" You ask in confusion.

"For our dinner, remember?" he answers, "I'll cook tonight we'll be having dinner at mine."

You hardly paid attention to him because your mind was always elsewhere, you couldn't remember saying yes to the dinner but you did and it must be out of pity.

"No, of course, I remember, I'm just..." you rake your brain to think of something to say.

"I thought it was next week," you lie again with an awkward chuckle.

"You silly!" Lee says, "Aren't you glad that I called, huh?"

"So glad," you lie, again and again.

"I should start prepping the ingredients so they'll be ready when you get here," he says, his voice exuding enthusiasm.

"Okay."

"Don't forget the wine!"

"I won't."

"I can't wait to see you, baby," he sweetly says.

The lies are piling up so may as well add another one to the pile, "Me too."

"I love you, bye."

Don't think you can lie your answer to that, you gulp air, "Bye," you say to the phone, then quickly hang up.

Desperate times call for desperate measures and you don't know your desperate measure means knocking on your neighbor's door. Probably because you hate to admit that you need his help.

Not long after, Chan opens the door and his head pops out from the gap, "What's up?"

"My boyfriend just called and tonight, we'll be having dinner in his place," you blabber in panic.

It takes a second for him to process it then his face turns a little surprised, "What are we going to do then?" He asks in confusion.

You may be in dread but you catch the error in his question, "We? Now, you got your panties in a twist," you tell him.

"Shame on you!" He responds with a sly grin then opens the door wider and shows himself dressed in nothing but a white towel hanging low around his hips.

He puts one arm against the doorframe and leans close to you as he says, "Cause I'm not wearing any panties right now."

You should have noticed it from his wet hair and the beads of water rolling down his neck, and now that you're seeing the whole of it, your eyes immediately following where the beads of water going, they're going down the outline of his abs and eventually, to where they're all gathered as his pelvic bones leading down to one way: down south.

However, your instinctive reaction goes against what you're actually feeling inside.

"Ugh!" You groan and turn to the side, "Put some clothes on and I'll see you at my place!"

Without waiting for his answer, you rush back to your apartment and close the door behind you as fast as possible, then you rest your back against it.

The images of his naked body flashing through your head, his glistening wet pale skin, and how some parts of his body are blotchy red around the neck and chest. You get flustered all of a sudden, you immediately press the back of your hand to your cheek and you can feel them heating.

"Get it together!" You scold yourself.

After waiting for almost fifteen minutes, Chan finally comes knocking on your door like it's a musical instrument.

"Are you dressed?" You ask with your hand on the doorknob.

"Hardly," he jokes.

You peek through the peephole and see that he's already dressed to what you can say is his usual attire of dark short pants with a matching sleeveless top, showing off his bulging biceps. You open the door to let him in and he coyly walks in, treating your place like it's his own, sitting on your sofa with his legs spreading wide.

"Okay, so, why am I here?"

You stand in front of him with your hands clasped in front of you, "I've been lying to him the whole phone call and honestly, I've been doing it since the moment I decided that I want to break up with him, and I... I don't think I can lie to him again."

It's easy to admit your mistakes to him because he barely knows you and his opinions about you won't matter that much to you.

"I need to do it tonight," you hopelessly say.

"I take it you need my help to practice your break-up speech?"

You hate that he guesses it right but it's also convenient that you don't have to beat around the bush to ask for it. But first, you try to explain the situation as much as possible so he has ideas on what you're facing here.

"Lee is a man of many emotions and I'm not exaggerating when I say he'll likely cry," you inform.

Chan's forehead wrinkles as he processes this piece of information then stifles a nod. It seems like he still has no idea what you want him to do about it.

"I think it's less painful if you acknowledge the dumpee feelings," you blatantly explain.

"Okay, I got you. Let's practice!' He says, sitting up straighter on the sofa and then putting his hands on his knees.

It's just a practice but your anxiety takes over you not just mentally but also physically as your palms get sweaty. You wipe them down your jeans and take a breath.

"Lee," you call him by your boyfriend's name, and even though it's weird that you're roleplaying, you continue, "I want to break up with you."

Chan looks at you and gets quiet for a moment, "Wow. I'm in utter shock and it makes me very sad to hear that," he says with a rather serious tone.

Not the kind of reaction Lee would likely pull off but that will do if you decide to continue with it.

"I'm fully aware that this is so sudden but I've been thinking hard about it for some time and I think this is a decision that I should take," you say and you know it's a practice but you feel something caught in your throat.

"I'm sad and I need time to process it, but I'll be okay," he calmly says.

Chan gets the tone right but you believe breaking up wouldn't be this easy in real life, especially when there are real feelings to protect. To be honest, you're not ready to face the truth that you may hurt those feelings tonight.

"I think that went very well," Chan says, returning to his default settings.

"Yeah, I think that's it," you meekly say.

The worries and sadness are drawn on your face that Chan can easily see through your veiled expression, "If Lee is as nice as you said he is, then you shouldn't worry much," he says.

He waits until your eyes meet his to continue, "He may get surprised or shocked even, but he'll come around and respect your decision."

You can't believe that those words are coming out of his mouth or that he even tries to comfort you, but you appreciate it. Maybe his heart is still there, he just doesn't let it control him most of the time.

He gets up from the sofa and walks up to you, he takes your hands, ignoring how cold and sweaty they feel in his, "You got this," he assures you.

"Thank you, Chris," you sincerely say with a sad smile.

It is time to stop torturing both you and Lee with lies and forcing yourself to believe that the love is still there. It's time to accept the truth that if you can fall in love, you can also fall out of love.

It's a surprise that Chan worries about things that aren't his business. He's been playing some music to distract him from his head but he keeps the volume low because he doesn't want to miss hearing the sound of the elevator that will tell him any signs that you're back from the dinner.

Eventually, he tires himself out from worrying and falls asleep on the sofa. He startles always close to midnight after hearing the knocking on his doors.

Half disoriented, he trudges his way to open the door and finds you there, surprisingly, looking nice in a white cotton dress and your eyes dry.

But from the way you let yourself into his apartment, forgetting your impeccable manners and walking with shoulders slumped and carrying your shoes in your hands, he takes it that you did it.

"So... how did it go?" He carefully asks, following you as you're making your way to the sofa and then sitting on it.

You let a heavy sigh and your shoulders slumped even more, "At least, there's no crying," you answer with a sad smile.

Chan is unsure of how to react to that, is that a good thing or a bad thing? He just stands there with his arms crossed on his chest, thinking out loud.

"And even though it was ending... it was incredibly meaningful to me and I'm going to miss him," you say with your lips trembling.

Oh, no, Chan knows when a girl is about to cry, he quickly finds a remedy to it, one that he knows always works wonders for him. He runs to the kitchen and brings a bottle out of his alcohol stash, then hands it to you.

"Let's have a drink!" He says, realizing that he forgot the glass.

"Wait another second, I'll get the glass," he says, sprinting to retrieve two glasses from his kitchen cabinet.

When he returns, he sees that you're chugging the alcohol straight from the bottle. You gasp and then wince from the bitter aftertaste of it.

"Okay, straight from the bottle it is," he says, popping onto the sofa next to you.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and then hand the bottle to him in which he wastes not another second to take a sip of it.

"The thing is... I really care about him but he wanted to get married, and I'm just not ready for that," you share with your eyes blank and looking at the void.

You take a deep breath but it seems like it only sends your heart sinking deeper and deeper, and making it harder for you to breathe.

"And if I'm not ready with a guy as great as him then what if I'm never ready?" You say, turning your head his way with your eyes glassy, pooling with tears.

"What if that was it..." you lift your shoulders then drop them as you let out a low sigh, "my one chance at love?"

The tears start streaming down your face like a bursting dam and Chan knows he can't do anything about it but let them out.

Hearing your words makes him think about what his idea of love is. He used to think that it was something he could get whenever he wanted it but now he knows that he's wrong, because that's just a short-lived infatuation, just some sort of meaningless connection.

From you, he learns that love is a privilege that not everyone can experience.

"What if I never get a second chance?" You ask him the question that he doesn't know the answer to.

"I don't know. I'm just sad," your voice cracks, then you break into tears.

Chan is quick to catch you into his arms and offers you his embrace. He knows he can't do anything about this sadness but he can try to soothe the pain, he's placing gentle rubs on your back as you cry into his chest.

The cry is resounding in this space, echoing the sadness back to you and it makes him inexplicably sad too, and he gets the urge to make it stop.

"It's going to be alright," he murmurs at the top of your head.

You look up with your eyes wet and red with tears caught in your lashes, "Is it?" You croak.

He doesn't know when but he knows for sure that time heals everything.

"It will be," he answers with a gentle caress of his knuckle on your wet cheek, "eventually."

Your eyes tell some more assurance for him and he doesn't know what drives him to do it, but he leans in, then kisses you.

To his surprise, you kiss him back and he knows you're doing it because you seek his comfort and he wants to give you exactly that. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, giving you that closeness you seek. He kisses you ever so softly because he knows he's kissing a broken heart and he wants to mend it. He can taste your sadness and the bitterness of it, and also the relief underlying all of it. As he kisses you, he lets his heart open just enough to take some of that sadness away from yours.

As the kiss deepens, the sadness withers, and something else emerges. Chan loses in it for a bit until he realizes what you're trying to do with your hand that reaches for the front of his jeans.

He abruptly detaches his lips from yours and shakes his head, "No, we can't do this," he says.

As much as he fancies you enough to have sex with you, he knows better not to do it when you're not in your right mind and your judgments are clouded with sadness. The last thing he wants is you waking up in the morning full of regrets.

"I want this, Chris," you croak.

"No, we can't," he adamantly says and takes your hand away from him.

"You're sad. You do want this," he says in an effort to put some sense into you.

You roughly crumple the front of his t-shirt and pull him close, "I want– No, I need this, Chris," you say to him with your eyes dark like two bottomless pits.

"Please?" You plead as a tear rolls down from the corner of your eye.

This is the most hopeless he ever heard of you and it breaks his heart. You said it yourself, you need this and he knows what you mean by that. You need the distraction, you need him to take this pain away even just for a fleeting moment, moreover, he can't break what's already broken.

He takes your hand off of his clothes and puts it in his, he leans in until his forehead is pressed against yours.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asks once again.

"Yes," you answer without a beat.

That's all Chan needed to hear, he inhales air and puts an inch between your faces. He then tenderly holds your face with both hands and looks at you, unsure where to start but maybe, he can start by making those tears coming out of your eyes.

Chan dabs the tears pooling in the corner of your eyes with his knuckle and without the slightest of hesitancy, he places a gentle kiss on each of your closed eyelids and before you can open them, he captures your lips in a kiss.

Sex is not something new to him but Chan knows that this time is not about physical fulfillment, but a way to offer comfort and hopefully, to also mend your broken heart.

He takes his time to strip away every piece of clothing on you until you're bare, lying on the bed with nothing but sadness that fills your heart.

He touches you with utmost gentleness, using just his fingertips to feel the softness of your skin and you're so pliant, sensitive to his touch.

To make it fair, Chan takes his clothes off as well before joining you on the bed, caging you in between his arms and hovering only inches away above you.

"Touch me," he says to you, taking your hand and placing it on his shoulder.

He then glides your hand down his neck and chest, he makes you feel every inch of his pale skin with him. However, when he looks at you, your eyes remain on his.

"You feel so warm, Chris," you lowly mutter.

He brings your hand close to his mouth and kisses it, then crashes his lips on yours.

The gap between your bodies becomes non-existent as you keep pulling him close, he relents by lowering himself on top of you and props an elbow against the mattress to not put his whole weight on you.

Lips locked, hands around each other, bodies pressed together and the temperature keeps on rising in the room. Chan makes you feel every part of his lips brushing and gliding over yours. He skillfully parts your mouth open with his tongue so he can kiss you deep and hard, yet slow until you run out of breath.

At the same time, his hand makes its way down until his fingers land on your delicate flesh. He touches it tenderly, running his fingers between the folds, and drags them upward to rub on your bundle of nerves.

"Ah..." you moan against his lips as you curve your hand around his neck and pull him incredibly closer.

Judging from it, he knows he's doing it right and he should continue, he applies gentle pressures on your clit, making you drenched and that way, he can slowly put a digit inside of you.

You let go of his kiss to let out a moan and your head falls onto the pillow as he puts another digit into you, two fingers pumping in and out of you.

Chan intently watches as your face contorted along to the pleasure, how your jaws slack open and breathless moans keep spilling out of your parted mouth.

The way you clench around his fingers makes him impatient to feel you and how tight you feel around him, and the noises you make oh, they're his new favorite tune that he wants to keep listening to until his eardrums burst.

He glances down as he pulls his fingers out of you and finds them thickly coated with your essence, it doesn't stop him from shoving them into his mouth and lick them clean.

Chan holds you by the chin to keep you still as he kisses you, "Give me a second to get a condom, yeah?" He says to you and you nod in answer.

He makes his to the bathroom and pulls the drawer open to take a condom. To save time, he decides to put it on right away, he tears through the foil packet with his teeth and rolls the rubber down his hard length.

On the way out, he catches his reflection in the mirror and gets reminded that this is not about him. Tonight, it's all about you.

He returns to the bedroom, finding you still lying in bed naked and hugging yourself. He climbs onto the bed and lowers himself on you, letting you absorb his body heat to warm you.

Craving for another taste of it, he goes down and plants his mouth on your cunt next, tasting you right on his tongue.

You're squirming as his tongue laps over your wetness, drinking in on your essence and then using it to circle on your clit.

He's not the only one getting impatient and asking more of it, you both want it and there's no wasting time anymore. Just before he takes it to the next part, he places a long, tender kiss on your clit and immediately brings his mouth to yours again so you can taste yourself on him.

"I'm going in, mmh?" He says as he endearingly brushes your hair away from your face.

You hold on to his shoulder as he settles himself between your legs, aligning his cock with your entrance but before that, he rubs his length between your folds, lubricating it with your essence.

Your hands fly to your chest, hugging yourself again as you lowly moan to his hard length rubbing over your clit and then, pushing its way into you.

"Goodness fu—" he can't even finish his sentence without breaking into a satisfied groan.

It's just the tip but he can already feel how tight you are around him, he's scared yet excited to push more of him into you. He reorganizes his breathing and rests his hand on your abdomen to do it.

Chan looks down to check and he still has a little more of him that needs to be inside you, he sharply inhales air through his nostrils and pushes the remaining length in one quick push.

"Oh..." you breathlessly moan as you're squeezing on your breasts.

Chan allows himself to take a moment to adjust himself to being inside you and you seem to also need time to adjust to his size because you feel so incredibly tight around him. It makes him wonder how this little thing can take him so well.

He takes your hands away from your chest and puts them around his shoulders, that way he can put his body on top of you, lips locked with yours again in no time as you wrap your legs around his waist, sending him deeper inside you.

As he takes a breath in between kisses, you hold his face and look at him with a different kind of sadness in your eyes which only reminds him that his initial plan is to make it go away.

He starts thrusting into you, wanting to fuck this sadness out of you. He wants to make you think of nothing but how his cock fills you full and how good he is fucking you right now, and soon, he's going to make you feel nothing but immense pleasure.

"Ah... ah... ah..." you moan for every thrust going into you and the skin-slapping sounds echo along with it in the room.

Chan plants his mouth on your breasts to contain his grunts and groans while keeping the steady motion of his hips pulsating against you.

A hand reaches for his chin and forces him to look at you, instantly engaged in eye contact with you. He continues thrusting into you with eyes looking deep into you, they're no longer looking like bottomless pits, they look like deep oases that he wants to dive into.

The next thing he knows, Chan finds himself deep in you, not just physically but also connected with you in a way that he's never experienced with anyone else until now. He feels barer than he already is and instead of shutting himself off, he embraces it and lets you in.

Soon enough, he finds himself lost in it and fully connects himself to you in a way that lets him know how it feels to love without fears or insecurities holding him back, without worrying if it's being reciprocated or not, to love wholly and completely.

"Oh," you let out a broken moan and that's when he notices that you break into tears again.

Chan abruptly stops moving, afraid that something he does is hurting you without realizing it.

"No, keep going, keep going," you tell him with your voice hoarse.

He needs to make sure to continue, he cups your jaw and asks, "Are you okay?"

"Yes, please, keep going, please," You repeatedly nod and plead with your teary eyes.

He wants you to stop crying, he wants you to stop thinking about what hurts you and start to see him as he tries to take this pain away from you. His body picks up the pace, going impossibly fast and also taking himself close to his high.

Your eyes are screwed shut, your breath is ragged and your hands are gripping onto his shoulders, overwhelmed by the pleasure that he brought on you.

The moment he's sure that you already come to your climax, he allows himself to let go and uses all of his strength to give you a few more thrusts until there's nothing left in him but waves of pleasure that wash over him.

"Chris..." you softly call and then pull him for a chaste kiss on his lips, "Thank you."

Chan's face hovers only inches above you as he softly gazes into your eyes, you look so fragile and open like a wound and he's just glad that he can make your heartache gone even just for a while.

"Shh..." he stops you from talking by running his thumb over your lips and then kisses you with his heart wide open. He lets this beautiful feeling pour out of him and into you.

"No, thank you," he mutters his gratitude between kisses.

Thanks to you, he experiences something he's never felt before with someone else, something new, something pure and real, something that feels a lot like love.

When he wakes up in the morning and finds you're not there, it hits him that maybe it is love but Chan is not ready to admit it yet.

A week passes and Chan hasn't seen you ever since that night.

He can't tell if you're avoiding him or needing the space and time to piece yourself back from the break-up, he hopes it's the latter. Gosh! Let him be right.

Regardless of what happened, he can live with the fact that you despise him but it would be sad to know if you choose to go down the path of believing that you're not going to find love again.

Chan just needs to know if you're doing okay, that's what matters for now.

Fortunately, the two of you have been neighbors for quite a long time to learn your routine and knockabouts. He knows what you like to do on a Saturday morning, he goes to the lobby and chats with the concierge as he waits.

At the first sight of you entering the apartment building, his heart palpation, and in all honesty, he's just so happy to finally see you after a while.

Are you not seeing him there? Or you're just pretending which only confirms his initial thought that you've been, in fact, avoiding him.

You're walking through the lobby carrying a bag of groceries in your arm, you skip checking on the mailbox and go straight to the elevator. It just happens that the elevator is vacant and the doors slide open after you push the button.

Chan decides to take the risk, sprinting to get into the elevator before the doors close. You already despise him so a little more hate shouldn't be a problem to him.

"Morning, sunshine," He greets you with his dimpled grin.

"Good morning," you politely reply without looking at him.

Things are going back to normal and he should be glad, right? At least, you're back to your usual settings of looking stoic and acting polite, and the best thing about it is you're still talking to him.

"I should learn to avoid people from you. You're good at it," he pushes it a bit just to see if he can crack through this facade.

"Excuse me?" Your head turns his way and with your eyes widen, "I have not been avoiding anyone."

Chan holds the urge to smile for successfully getting your attention and rests his back against the cold, metal furnace of the elevator, "Are you sure?"

"Well, we're seeing each other now," you tell him.

"That's because I know you like to go to the farmer's market every Saturday morning," he says at the same time, admitting that he knows about your routine.

You slowly turn your body facing him and squint your eyes at him, "You've been keeping tabs on me?"

"It's my favorite pastime activity," he shamelessly answers then pokes his cheek with his tongue.

"It's better than watching porn," he playfully adds, something that he knows will annoy you the right way.

"Ugh!" You groan as you look straight ahead.

Oddly enough, that's what he misses the most about it, interacting with you and seeing your reaction to his antics, but you, especially.

"Don't be so uptight," he coyly says.

He takes a step closer to you and puts his hand on the handlebar, "it's not like we haven't slept together or anything."

You let out a scoff and hoist the strap of your grocery bag higher on your shoulder, "I'm shocked you even remember," you say.

You turn your head next and your eyes immediately lock in a gaze with him, "I figure I'm just a low notch on a very long bedpost," you add.

"Are you calling me a man whore?" Chan says, feeling offended.

You take a step closer to him and daringly stare back into his eyes, "I didn't call you a man," you answer with a sly smirk.

There's a few seconds of silence until Chan realizes what you just said to him but you know what? He's going to give it to you, for now.

He looks at you and smiles, "Touche!"

You both look at each other and at the same time, burst into laughter, and it keeps going until the hilarity subsides with each passing second.

Is this real? Did you just poke fun at him with a beautiful smile on your face? Did you really laugh and the sound of not only echoing in this enclosed space but also in the back of his mind? Did he just see a different facial expression on you? Either way, he likes it and he likes how it makes him feel.

The elevator chimes open and soon, the doors part open. He lets you get off first and then takes his turn after, he gets a little disappointed as you both are going in the opposite direction.

"Hey, Chris," you call as he's only a couple of steps away from the door of his apartment.

His heart palpation again but he keeps his calm and then slowly, turns on his feet to face you, "Yes?"

"I'm cooking curry for dinner and I know it'll be not as good as the one you always ordered but you can come and..." your hand is fiddling with the strap of your grocery bag as you speak but your eyes remain steady on him, "see if it suits your taste."

And did you just invite him for dinner? Him, the neighbor you despise so much?

Chan acts coy and scratches the back of his head, he holds the urge to answer right away. He has a reputation to uphold and he reckons, you have to at least wait a minute for his answer.

"Yeah, okay, let's see," he nonchalantly answers but his smile tells otherwise.

You crack a laugh and nod, walking to your door with the keys jangling as you're unlocking it.

Chan thinks that's the end of it until you call his name again, his heart leaps this time and he almost flies his way to you.

"Yeah?"

"Don't worry, I'm not going to ask you what are we," you say with a smile then get inside of your apartment.

That's funny because, after that night, he was hoping that you would ask him that as most girls do but that's where he is wrong, you're not most girls, you are his neighbor whom Chan is secretly in love with.

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dirtyyoungthingg · 24 days ago

Text

its been a long day. between school and extracurriculars, i am exhausted and stressed. i need a release. bad.

what better way to relieve my stress than fucking myself silly?

i walk into my bedroom, already smiling thanks to the plan my sweet little brain came up with. my smile drops when i realize you're sitting on my bed.

next to my toys.

"d-dad...--"

"what the fuck are these, hm?" you gesture to the two toys on the bed. i immediately shrink into myself, embarrassed.

"...dunno...."

"dont play dumb with me." you stand and grab a fistful of my hair, bringing my gaze up to meet yours. you glance back over at the toys. "do you even know how to use those?" nervously, i nod.

"i-i'm a big girl."

you can't help but smile a little. "yeah?" you throw me down onto the bed. "show dad. let me see you be a big girl, and maybe i'll let you keep these." i scramble onto my back, my heart pounding in my ears as i try to wrap my brain around whats happening.

my dad wants to watch me fuck myself.... my thighs squeeze together as you settle onto the foot of the bed. you tut at me and place your hands on my knees.

"don't be shy now. its nothing i havent seen before." your mind flashes back to our special bathtimes. how you loved catching glimpses of my sweet little pussy underneath the bubbles. how you'd use your special soap on me, as long as i didnt tell anyone.

"but dad--"

you spread my legs open suddenly, my skirt raising to show off my printed pink panties. "shut the fuck up. take those off." my face is flushed as i comply, sliding out of my panties. you grab them from me and bring them to your nose. "god... you always smell so good." i shiver at the cold air hitting my wet cunt. you set the panties down and reach to rub your thumb lightly against my sweet little pussy lips. your other hand moves to grab the first toy, a small bullet vibrator. you smile at it for a moment. "where'd you get this guy, huh?"

"th-the mall... one of the stores sells stuff like that in the back..." you turn it on, and a small but consistent buzzing sound fills the air. you raise your eyebrows as you click it back off.

"not bad." you press it into my hands. "go on. show me how you use it."

i feel dizzy, nervous. this is wrong, you shouldnt be making me do this. and yet, i'm so wet, and i was planning on playing with myself anyway... maybe its not so bad that dad's here.... i bite my lower lip as i turn the small vibe back on and begin to run it over my little pussy lips. a breath catches in my throat when i brush over my swollen clit. you take another deep breath from my panties as you watch, palming yourself through your pants. i press the vibe to my clit as i watch. "g-god... dad...."

"thaaaaat's right baby. just like that." you unbuckle your belt and pull your cock out, wrapping the soft pink fabric of my panties around the length of it as you begin to pump your cock with your fist. the sight is making me lightheaded with lust. i squirm as the vibrator presses harder onto my clit, letting out a moan. "good girl..."

you glance over at the other toy, a sizable dildo. you grab it with your other hand and look down at my glistening cunt. so small and sweet... "...can you even fit this in that sweet little hole, baby?"

i sheepishly look away, shaking my head no. "so-sometimes if i try i can get it halfway in, but it really hurts..." you can't help but laugh a little.

"you just need daddy's help, baby." you grab the vibrator and click it off. i can't help but whimper a little and squirm at the lack of touch. you smile. "turn over, raise that cute little ass up for me." i comply, rolling over onto my stomach and putting my ass up in the air. my skirt from school is still on, and you have to slide it up so you can get to my bare ass. yet another reminder that i'm your daughter, your baby... you shouldn't be doing this... and yet you continue.

you use the head of the dildo and lazily drag it over my opening, humming softly as you see the wetness that collects on the toy. "you're so wet... i'm sure we could fit this in if we tried. you're a big girl, right? thats why you have these toys?" i nod, too flustered to really speak.

"i-i'm a big girl..."

"that's right baby. you're a big girl. and that's why you're gonna take all of this, deep inside your sweet little kiddo cunt." you press the toy into me, slowly, working it in and out of my pussy bit by bit. my eyes screw shut as i whine. i'm still just so tight, so small... you bite your lower lip in concentration as you press the dildo even further inside me suddenly. i gasp and try to squirm away. it's too much, too deep...! i am met with a swift slap on my ass that makes me yelp and causes tears to spring from my eyes.

"ah-ah. that's enough of that, young lady." your tone is gruff, and makes me shudder inwardly. you manhandle me back into the proper position. "you wanted to be a big girl. owning these toys, fucking yourself with them. acting like such a whore. you're lucky this is how i'm choosing to correct this behavior." you smack the other cheek to punctuate your point. "i could've just thrown you down, raped you right here." you begin to thrust the dildo in and out of my cunt quickly, ignoring my pleas for you to stop. "coulda just taken everything ive ever wanted. your mouth, your pussy, your ass..."

i'm sobbing at this point as you relentlessly fuck me with the toy. "coulda treated you like the whore you are. traipsing around with those little skirts, those tiny tops that leave nothing to your father's imagination, much less anyone elses." you've driven the toy all the way into me at this point. i'm crying, my brain overloaded from pain and pleasure.

"t-too m-much--! p-please, stop!"

"shut the fuck up." you use your free hand to press my face into the pillows. "god, do you ever stop talking?" the toys pace is too much. you notice how much i'm clenching around it. "and look at that. you're close. you can't be having that bad of a time if you're that close to cumming while your dad plays with you how he sees fit." my cries are muffled by the pillows as i beg you over and over to stop, please god stop, it's too much.

"no, baby. i'm not gonna stop. not until you cum all over your special big girl toy for daddy. c'mon, i know you want to. you know you want to. cum for me. cum for dad."

and just like that, the dizzying feeling reaches its peak. i cum with the toy deep inside me, my sweet cries ringing out as i throw my head back. you slow your movements down until you stop.

"that's my girl." you slide the dildo out of my cunt. "i knew you could do it. and look at that! you took the whole thing! such a big girl for daddy, such a good girl."

i'm too much of a dazed mess to fight you off as you slide your pants down and position yourself over me. you line your cock up with my twitching cunt, humming softly.

"now i get to show you that you don't need those silly toys. all a girl needs is her father."

#fauxc3st #fauxcest #1cky d@d #1cky daughter #cnc free use #cnc k!nk #dadcon #1cky princess #jess.txt #dad is on the brain bad today #neeeeed him tyvm universe ty ty ty #dad #dad x daughter #dadcest

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cloudwisp · 7 months ago

Text

𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬 · 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐦

contents: smut. minors dni 18+. reader wears a nightgown to subtly get the message across. attempt at seduction. lots of teasing and kissing. first time with him. size difference. fingering. borderline overstimulation. no protection. mostly sweet lovemaking but implications of leading to rougher sex. sylus has a huge dick (he is standing at 6’2 after all). 2.9k wc.

꒰ note ᰔ based off of this arranged marriage sylus x wife!reader post but can be read as a standalone. smut writing is never one of my strengths but I had fun with this one!! and I can only hope it’s an enjoyable read to those who were anticipating a sequel 🤍꒱

“Doing a little late night reading?” Sylus glances at your form through his peripheral as you enter his bedroom with a light skip in your steps. He’s perched at the end of his bed with a high profile report in hand, and with a tilt of your head and prying eyes you hover over the document between his fingers as you stand before him. You skim through a few lines before he tosses it aside, murmuring that it’s nothing of importance when something more interesting happens to catch his attention and you feel the heat of his gaze doing you a once-over.

Your cheeks warm and you feel a tad shyness wash over you when he quietly appraises your body clad in a gorgeous silk slip with lace embellishments. He hums in appreciation, a slow smirk curling on his lips before he reaches out to grasp your waist and pull you forward onto his lap. He secures one arm around you to keep you in place and his thumb sweeps over the delicate sleepwear and the bare skin of your thigh in a soft, languid motion. “You’ll catch a cold in just your nightgown, kitten. Or did you wear it for me?”

“Maybe I just wanted to change into something a little more comfortable.” You respond with a coy smile and playful shrug of your shoulder which causes the thin strap to fall from just a whisper of movement. He enjoys your little display and act of innocence if this is your way of telling him that you want to deepen the relationship through shared intimacy like normal marital couples do during this time of night. And truthfully, he’s been waiting far too long for this moment to come but he didn’t expect you to offer yourself on a silver platter. What a sweet and precious wife you are.

“I’m sure you could find something more suitable than a flimsy nightgown.” His knuckles brush up along your arm and hooks the fallen strap around his finger to slide it back into its proper place. “But then, perhaps you wanted to tease me, too?”

You click your tongue in disappointment. No matter what you do he was always two steps ahead of you—it’s thoughtful yet infuriating especially when you want him to act more surprised. “Nothing ever gets passed by you, it seems.”

His large hand slips under the lace trimmings of your nightgown and moves closest to your backside for a firm squeeze. “You should know by now how badly I want you, sweetheart. And with you sitting in my lap, looking breathtaking like that. I’m tempted to just rip this little thing off of you.”

You purse your lips into a small pout that’s adorable to him and grunt in disapproval. “What if this night dress is one of my favorites? Don’t I get a say in what you can and can’t tear?”

He arches a brow as though to challenge you by putting the theory into practice. You keep forgetting that he could read you like an open book, and he loves nothing more than proving you wrong at every chance. “Are you saying you wouldn’t enjoy it if I did? I’ll buy you new ones. Better ones.”

You mull over at the thought. “Sounds troublesome. I’ll have to keep making these frequent shopping trips.”

“I just mean the nightgown is in the way of me seeing all of you. You’re more than welcome to wear it any other time, but right now… I want it off.”

“Well, it’s only fair you make the next move.” He groans lowly when you shift your weight in his lap and rest your head against him. You drag your manicured finger down his chest and gently flick at the silver chain looped between his collar. “I did come all this way just for you.”

He understood your meaning and leans down close enough so his warm breath fans over your lips when he tilts your chin to look at him. “If you want me to take off my clothes, you’ll have to undress me yourself.” The soft spoken words in his deep voice send a tingle to the back of your brain, and the lingering kiss he places on the corner of your mouth adds a fluttering sensation in your stomach.

“Still making me work for it? And here I thought I would be cherished and wouldn’t even need to lift a finger.” You bring yourself upright and shove him down onto the bed to climb over him and straddle him. He gives you a knowing smirk at the sound of your cute gasp when you feel just how hard he is for you against your clothed cunt. You make quick work of undoing the underlay of buttons tucked beneath the thick fabric of his tailored dress shirt and remove it entirely to reveal every bit of lean muscle. His build akin to that of a spectacularly sculpted marble statue down to the details of his veins on his strong arms.

“Making you work for it is half the fun, kitten. But just remember who will be putting in the most work tonight.” His hand wanders up your thigh again and moves along the curve of your waist, the expensive silk bunches under his touch and he gropes the fullness of your breast. You feel the strap loosen around your shoulder once more. “Are you liking what you’re seeing? You’re allowed to mark what’s yours, you know. But I’d like to be able to mark you as mine too, wife.” His hungry eyes slowly roam over your matching panties and midriff before he returns your gaze.

Your smaller hand covers his knuckles meanwhile his thumb brushes across your nipple and he revels in the feeling of the bud hardening over the material. “You’re just always so straightforward, aren’t you?” You sensually wrap your finger around the other strap that’s perfectly intact and at your cue Sylus glides his hand down to the small of your back and watches as the dress cascades down to your midsection.

“And you’re so beautiful.” You’re a heavenly sight to behold with the way his amorous stare commits your very existence to his memory, particularly the swell of your lovely breasts that’s heavy with lust and begging for more of his attention. He gently reaches for your wrist and his fingers smooth under your palm to bring your hand up to his face. His thumb runs over the wedding band that binds you to him laying a light kiss against your knuckles, then places your hand over his shoulder waiting for your next move.

You don’t waste another second closing the distance between you two and crash your lips against his for a needy and desperate kiss. Your fingers tangle into his silver locks and your heat grinds against him hoping for some semblance of relief from the ache that’s building inside you. You feel him envelop your breasts fully with each caress and tender squeeze and a little bit of nipple play.

Sylus tastes faintly of sweet, tannic notes from the lingering aftertaste of red wine as your tongue meets his through parted lips. His arms and hands alternate between hugging your body and grip tightening on your hips, bucking himself up into your heat. You feel yourself needing more, wanting more and being closer to him so you hurriedly unbuckle his belt and suddenly the sound of fabric tearing reaches your ears.

You muffle in surprise against his lips and push him back just enough to see him wearing a smug expression. “I should’ve known you’d go against my wishes.” You scoff in disbelief and yet there’s a grin playing across your features that betrays your earlier words. You hate to admit he was right from the start—that you’d find the ripping more attractive instead of being carefully unwrapped like you both have all the patience in the world.

Sylus discards the now ruined piece of clothing aside. He lifts you with ease and your back embraces the cool sheets when he drops you down on the mattress and returns to his full height. “I was never one to follow rules. Besides, you look perfect like this.” You support yourself up on your elbows to follow his movements, and any smart comeback you have dies in your throat when he picks up where you left off by unfastening his belt and stripping out of his trousers. His boxer briefs follow suit and he thinks it’s adorable how you look mesmerized from this performance alone.

Your eyes settle on his huge cock. Almost gawking at it and you unconsciously clench your thighs together. It’s perfectly proportioned to the rest of him—long and notably thicker with an upward center curve and a few prominent veins here and there. He flushes a pretty shade of red that’s gradient from the head down and his pubes are neatly trimmed.

“You don’t have to look so scared, kitten.” He rasps an amused chuckle, and he feels you tense slightly when his hand scales up along your knee to your inner thigh and he dips his fingers between your legs. “I’ll take my time with you so you can handle me.”

Your breath hitches when he feels how drenched you are through your panties. He offers a gratified hum, his handsome face and broad shoulders become your main focus as he closes in on you. “Spread your legs wider.” He murmurs into your ear, and as soon as you give him more access he delves into your mouth for a bruising kiss and chases you down onto the bed. His ministrations on your clit feel absolutely sinful yet so wonderful and your arm wrap around his back meanwhile your hand explores the muscled panels of his upper body and the areas that are within your reach.

A string of saliva connects you both then disappears as your lips come apart. But he doesn’t stray far when the exquisite look on your face is a breath away and he pulls your panties aside to collect your arousal with two digits sliding through your puffy folds. Your lustful sounds escape in a warm exhale as soon as he slowly inserts his thick fingers into your tight pussy, and you’re quite the vision arching your back so tastefully.

“Mmh, that f-feels so good, Sylus.” Your eyes glaze over when he steadily pumps in and out of you, curling so deliciously at your sweet spot and he marvels at the way your cunt is greedily sucking in his fingers. There’s nothing else like him, the way he stretches you and reaches the deeper parts and hits the bits you can’t yourself. He adores the breathless sighs and mewls of his name when he pushes you to the edge even more while kissing you senselessly.

“You sound beautiful. I love the way my name tastes on your lips.” You can feel him smirk against you, but you’re too immersed in your pleasure to respond in words that aren’t broken syllables. He trails open-mouth kisses down to your jawline and along the column of your neck, grazing his teeth and softly sucking on your skin until hues of velvet purple form. Your head burrows into the soft cushion of the mattress, hips squirming as your hand clutches onto his forearm from tension coiling inside you.

“M’gonna come soon, Sy—!” Your pretty moans and pants grow heavier each second, and he loves feeling your body quiver when you’re pressed under him. He’s still knuckles deep inside you with every intention of bringing you up to heaven and back down to him. After all, he doesn’t believe in doing things halfway but can’t pass an opportunity to tease his darling wife.

“You’re getting so close already? I barely got started with you, sweetie.” He chuckles lowly yet his cock twitches as precum oozes and leaks down from the slit of his tip. “Don’t hold it in now. Let go and come for me.”

He’s met with your gorgeous o-face when the euphoric bliss courses through your entire body as your walls tighten around his fingers. Your moans turn into squeals and you try to shove his hand away to soften your orgasm but he doesn’t budge from being much stronger than you. The feeling is more than you can handle when your thighs clamp together to stop his movements. But you don’t want the addictive sensation to leave just yet when he borderline overstimulates you, turning you into a trembling and writhing mess.

You barely have a moment to catch your breath when a chortle escapes you from watching him bring his fingers coated in your cum to his mouth for a curious taste. “Mm. Sweet, just as I thought. You did great, kitten.” He leans down to plant a chaste kiss on your forehead, and the first wave of your drawn-out release slowly ebbs away. “Don’t you think you deserve one more?” Sylus pulls your soaked panties down your legs and casts them aside, leaving you completely bare under his gaze.

“I should hope so. Been wanting for you to stuff me with your fat cock tonight.” You’re still a little breathless when your finger glides down his toned chest in a sensual and playful manner. He makes a content hum at the sound of that with an upward quirk of his lips.

“What a bold and resilient wife I have on my hands. As long as I have you, I’ll never be bored again.” He gladly hoists your leg to wrap around his waist and spits down, giving himself a few strokes making it slick before aligning himself to your dripping cunt. His precum mixes with the remnants of your previous climax with the heavy drag of his tip from your opening up along your clit. He revels in the way your body responds with a little spasm. “I won’t have you going back on your words now.”

The flutter of your lashes steers away from his deep and enigmatic eyes, a nervous gnaw of your lower lips as you anticipate the painful stretch from taking him. “Go slow, okay? Because you know…” He knew you were implying about his sheer size, and you feel him grab hold of your hand and press your interlaced hand against the bed beside your head.

He captures your swollen lips that feel entirely too sweet and intimate, replacing your worries with a gentle tangle of his encompassing love and adoration that seeps into your soul. “I wouldn’t dream about hurting you. That’s a promise. But you have to let me in first.” Your breath hitches when his aching tip probes your entrance, yet the tension doesn’t leave your body until he tells you to focus on him with the exchange of kisses laced with a growing insistence. “You’ll let me know if it hurts, kitten? I want to make you feel good.”

With that said, your sharp nails dig into his shoulder blade and draw red lines at the burning stretch that feels too much yet so good at the same time. Your soft sighs and whimpers fill the hazy room and he’s fucking you slowly with just the tip to help ease the initial discomfort. He searches your face every now and again making sure you’re okay before he continues, letting out a guttural moan when he slips in a little more with each thrust until he carves his way into you completely.

“You’re in too deep—hah. Feel so full and good.” You shudder when he stills his movements, throbbing cock nestled inside you to the hilt and kissing your cervix. There’s a carnal desire brewing in his stomach seeing you pinned under his weight keeping him nice and warm. He wouldn’t mind spending the entire night with you, any plans and commitments he had prior be damned the moment you swayed in through the double doors. “Want you to m-move, please.”

The sound of your polite begging makes him twitch involuntarily, and he could only imagine what desperate pleas you have in store for him tonight and he’s looking forward to it. When your pretty lips implore him to fuck you faster and harder he won’t be able to hold back. After all, he has always been ready and waiting to give himself to you that aligns with your willingness to accept him. There is no love purer than his, this craving he has reserved only for you. “You know you only have to ask, and I’ll give you everything you want. Just be careful what you wish for, sweetie.”

Sylus chuckles at your cute whine shortly after—such a needy little thing you are. He falls into a sweet and slow rhythm that makes you feel each thrust, the head of his dick down to its shape and following the shaft that caresses the underside of your pleasure endings so incredibly good. Your legs wrap around his back and you pull him in deeper because close just isn’t close enough for you. You need to feel the heat of his body sear against your skin as you hold him, and in turn you feel him squeeze your interlaced hand. “Tonight, you’re all mine. Forget anyone else in the world but me.”

#ᨳ ₊˚ 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐩.𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 #sylus #sylus x reader #sylus smut #l&ds x reader #love and deepspace x reader #sylus love and deepspace #lnds sylus #sylus lnd #sylus l&ds #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #love and deepspace

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