#sorry i went a little bit far there

[domnorian]

I’m actually really curious about your take on Kryptonians, and would love to know more that you haven’t told us already

Oh boy, I have so much Kryptonian lore in my head but nothing that I had time to put on paper.

What I can say however for now is that I'm trying hard to base my lore on what was explained in the old Superman comics but upgrading it a bit. For now, I've only written on the planet itself and I just started with the fauna and flora.

What was important to me was to write Krypton not as that horrible society like most writers tend to. But like a reflect on our own society. There is the "Old World" and the "New World", so of course colonialism and capitalism. I'm trying as much as possible to write a realistic socio-political background for everything but especially I don't want to write Krypton again like "It's science that doomed them bleh-" I fucking hate that because Lara and Jor-El were scientists?

So obviously the problem isn't science but the fact that Krypton's most influencial government was racist, sexist, and utterly despotic and dynastic. Zod actually tried a coup to save his planet but, though he had good intentions, he was a supremacist, racist and sexist asshole too. Jor-El, Lara and many others were the people from Krypton who really tried to change their world and save it from this tyranny through a revolution but didn't have enough time for it.

My idea was to show that most other aliens thought Kryptonians were bastards. But through Kara's point of view, we can actually that they were just like us: they loved, they danced, they fought for what they believed in. They had music and art and they were generous with those less fortunate. The problem was the governments, the church of Purity, traditions and beliefs that were distorted for a minority of people who wanted power and greed. And they are the ones that doomed the planet.

I think showing Krypton as "do you see this? that can end up like this for us too" was what the original writers wanted but not in a bad way. And especially with what's happening on our world at the moment, I think it's needed. Because yes, Krypton didn't have time to be saved but it doesn't mean we should stop fighting. It doesn't mean that we'll end up the same. And if we do, maybe we'll allow others to be saved as well. It's always been about hope and fighting for hope.

[ruvviks]

"The outer reaches of space remain unexplored by humankind to this day, but its greed is relentless. We grasp and yearn and hunger for knowledge— answers to questions we cry out into the endless void expecting to understand, expecting the stars to respond. The stars will not, but one day something else will— and we will not like what it has to say." — Rome Solomon, Beyond the Exosphere (1965)

taglist (opt in/out): @shellibisshe, @florbelles, @ncytiri, @hibernationsuit, @stars-of-the-heart, @vvanessaives, @katsigian, @radioactiveshitstorm, @estevnys, @adelaidedrubman, @celticwoman, @rindemption, @carlosoliveiraa, @noirapocalypto, @dickytwister, @killerspinal, @euryalex, @ri-a-rose, @velocitic, @thedeadthree

[akkivee]

skimmed thru the guidebook myself!!!! here’s what i thought was neat about it!!!

the book cover was warning text all over it lol and it reads:

‘hypnosis mic has the power to interfere with people’s minds. when handling it, please be mindful of the extent to which its users’ influence can reach. furthermore, possession of a hypnosis mic that is not authorised by the chuuoku is subject to strict legal penalties’

within the pages, there’s another warning that’s partially blocked off by the graphics, but is advising to thoroughly read thru the guidelines for optimal functionality for failure to do can cause errors, malfunctions and other issues lol

pretty sure said pages are of the box the hypnosis mics are delivered in lol

the current era relationship chart is insane lmao like there are so many arrows. if it’s important, there’s probably an arrow for it lol

a handful of timeline events were removed in favour of including info about everything all the way up to the music festival. most of these removed events were when individuals met each other, eg dohifu meeting, rei and otome meeting

i think it’s just funny lmao but the section in bb’s story talking about jiro and saburo’s jobs to get ichiro to consider making a team with them, they included a silhouette of some woman to represent hifumi’s stalker LOL

did they update the official site with rei’s blood type??? if they didn’t, he’s type a 🤔

according to dh’s most important persons page, rei and otome stopped seeing eye to eye about the true hypnosis mic and the ramuda clones

the explanations for nagosaka’s abilities are neat!!!

🎋: makes the other person laugh, weakening their abilIties (tho interesting to note it’s not written with the english word ability to imply the hypnosis abilities)

🍮: informs allies, strengthening their power

0️⃣: manipulates any number of people to his own advantage

📿:enters a meditative state that increases concentration to block the opponent’s ability (ability here is written in english to imply it’s the hypnosis abilities)

🌙:gathers courage that restores own power (parallels jakurai’s ability to restore to normality when tled literally)

⚖️:with a shout, repel all attacks back at the opponent and away from allies

otome’s likes are gardening, tea, and antiques. she doesn’t like bugs or coffee. her favourite foods are pasta and risotto and she doesn’t like meat

ichijiku’s likes are ribbons, general goods, and fashion magazines. she doesn’t like pigeons or roller coasters. her favourite foods are sweets and she doesn’t like curry

nemu’s likes are making sweets and aquatic sports. she doesn’t like tobacco or lizards. her favourite food is hamburgers and she doesn’t like shellfish

the guidebook says the effects a person experiences after the true hypnosis mic is used on them varies from person to person. there are plenty of unknowns about it, including why hypnosis abilities disappear once under its influence.

the guidebook actually doesn’t have those pics of shakku and co we got in arb lmao. tho to that point it’s kinda interesting the people’s photos they do include are yotsutsuji and hanabi

[lee-blogs]

Still packing stuff and now i'm looking for a box for this.

My dad and i made it a few years ago for halloween, probably 2015/16 if i'm remembering right. It's made from a lays can, a wipes container from his work, and paper maché. I don't remember what the wires and front metal bits are from, but the middle actually lights up! It has one of those long battery-powered emergancy lights in it and some colored tissue paper

[zincbot]

(insert another nothing post abt how good in stars and time is)

[fishymom-art]

i finished season 4 of magnus archives and i am NOT okay

everyone's traumatized, but 4 lesbians, a muffin gay and a terrified asexual got a little win so that's good

[dreamerlynx]

.

[aomitois]

google do crane flies get attached to people

[dandyshucks]

need Guz to hug me tightly for like an hour solid oh my god dhdjdkl I went driving for the first time in over a year and I chewed my lip raw 😭😭

I'm starting to look like a caricature of Anxiety with all these physical symptoms and signs LMAO

[celestefem]

so, i’ve been working on a little kilala the past couple of days. she’s not perfect by any means, but she was fun to work on and i learned a lot!

[gayness-and-mayhem]

Sorry, why the actual fuck was Anthony eating yoghurt with his hands?!!

[pastellmochi]

my moots who dont gaf ab paralive watching me lose it over kenta focus 1/29

here is sillydraw <33333333

[moonlight-prose]

a request, if i may, of praising old man logan as he filfthly eats you out and it makes him combust the more you praise him? okay running away again

speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life

a/n: look at him taking off his glasses in absolute shock of this ask- no okay does old man logan have a praise kink? i would raise it higher and say every version of logan has a massive praise kink. this is a man who wants to know he's doing good in life. his love language is acts of service so he might get to hear a pretty thank you. also i'm not sorry for how feral this got. i have no explanation.

summary: he knew he loved you when your words begin to piece his heart back together. he knew he loved you when he flourishes at your praise. he knew he loved you when nothing in this world could matter but the sound of your voice telling him you love him too.

word count: 3k+

pairing: old man!logan x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, oral (f receiving), praise kink, logan is obsessed, dirty talk via reader, he is so pretty when he blushes, manhandling, cumplay, cumeating, overstimulation, crying, he's needy in this one, angst, tortured soul of an old man, reverence, religious trauma + greek mythology hints.

He can feel the strings of fate pull tight around his broken heart. In a failed attempt to draw him back together. To piece together an organ that barely beat for him anymore. He might have felt it once, before it broke. Before it gnarled itself like the branches of a dying tree, one half twisting away from the other in a desperate attempt of survival.

He deemed it a useless part of his body until you came along. You with your smile that held enough cloying sweetness to choke him as he stood helpless. Silently begging for you to say his name. To bring him back to life.

Whatever horrors that plagued his mind—endless nightmares that promised nothing but anguish—suddenly came crashing to a halt at the sight of you. So pretty in your denim jeans and velvet top. An angel seated in the center of a bar that held more filth than you deserved to be near. Logan couldn’t fathom that luck struck him this hard.

Not when death had already claimed his soul; notched yet another tally in the endless wall of people that came before.

He felt the dirt pack under his nails as he clawed his way out of the grave he put himself in. Years spent alone—a man lost to the ravages of time—had turned him bitter. With rough edges and biting words that stung far more than he intended. How could he believe he deserved to live after he contributed so much to the endless pool of blood that tainted his soul? How was he allowed such softness after biting off bits of brutality his whole life?

Logan was pretty sure he survived on borrowed time that had already run out. He could feel death breathe down his neck as the days went on. A reminder that what little of his life remained would be spent suffering. And he found that accepting it was easier than battling against the will of God, or whoever toyed with his lifeline.

It was far easier to die than find a reason to live.

Until you said his name.

Softly. Sweetly. Reverence wrapped in a tight grasp of need.

You brought him back from the edge—took his hand and refused to take no for an answer. You and the safety of your touch; the promise in your kiss. You dragged him into a life he didn’t earn; one that almost tasted too sweet—too sour.

After near a decade of being buried beneath the dirt, he felt himself collapse above ground and suck in his first real gasp of fresh air. Alive, once more. Hell spit him out with a vow of love and who was he to argue against it.

His fingers dug into your plush thighs, tugging them open to see what lay between. He marveled at their softness, eyes wide and awestruck at the sight of you spread beneath him. You practically glowed in the dim light of the bedside table. Yellow, musty, yet angelic when it caressed your body with its heavenly touch.

He wondered if this was real life; your nails digging sharply into his shoulders gave him the answer.

"Logan," you sighed, voice high with need.

The strings pulled taught. A vice like hold that drew him to you.

Maybe that's what this unutterable feeling was. The gnawing pit at the bottom of his heart. A greed he'd never indulged before—too afraid of what it might ask for next. He wasn't a man who asked for much. Rather someone that found himself far too content with nothing. But tonight he found his lips forming the words of a false prayer that his mother taught him as a child.

Hail the angel in his bed. Hail every good fucking thing you brought into his life.

His teeth sunk into your thigh, body jolting at your responding moan. Fingers dug into his hair, tugging at the mussed locks with a high pitched whine. You were a needy little thing, but Logan found he desperately wanted to be needed.

He smiled laving his tongue over the tender spot, working his way up to where you dripped for him.

So slick. So perfect.

Saliva filled his mouth. "What do ya want baby?"

Your chest heaved; he could feel the heat of your body under his palms. "Your m-mouth Logan."

His eyes trailed along your brow covered in a sheen of sweat. The room was thick with the humid air of the outside world. But that didn't deter him from craving your skin near his. The pressure of your thighs around his head a welcome weight. If he sunk his teeth in where the curve of your leg met your hip he knew he could draw out that soft choking noise he longed to hear on days spent driving alone.

If he had his way he'd crawl into you to seek your serenity straight from the source. He'd never divulge about the ache that chewed him up on the inside, but Logan wondered if you knew. Could you tell how much he craved you? How much he couldn't live without you.

When your glittering eyes met his, the resolve he spent years building cracked like glass. You peered into him as if he was a stained glass window. A god you were more than happy to worship.

"You want me to lick this pretty pussy?" Fuck, he sounded drunk off your taste already.

His mouth hovered over your throbbing clit, your scent now filling his senses. Overwhelming him with what he wanted most. But he needed to hear it. The lilt of your begging; the soft echo of your need that washed over him like soothing river water.

He couldn't live without it.

"Yes," you sobbed, thigh twitching.

The string sliced his heart open, blood pooling onto the white bed sheets. Oh what a sweet death your love made. Oh...what a bittersweet way to go.

He'd die right now if you asked him to. Hand over his heart on a silver platter if you so wished it. Maybe that made him far too gone for his own good, but Logan couldn't remember a time in his life where he got this. Safety. The hope of love burning far too bright and far too hot for him to fly near it.

Yet there he was. Icarus happily soaring in your sun like glow.

"I got ya honey," he murmured. "Gonna take care of what's mine."

You nodded frantically—tears welling up in your eyes. "You take care of me Logan."

The breath in his chest stuttered, eyes dark as the words fell past your swollen lips. He wanted to explain why his cock twitched against his stomach. Why he now leaked into the sheet with heavy panted breaths. But every time he came up short with the words needed to form an answer.

"Yeah I do sweetheart," he breathed. "Don't I?"

"Uh-huh."

"Take care of what belongs to me."

There was no warning when his hands dragged you closer with a rough tug, mouth closing over your clit with a desperate suck. A cry wrenched from your mouth, sparks sharply traveling down your spine. He licked through your slick with a growl. Hands an unbreakable press against your thighs.

The sight of your body bowed, mouth open for small gasped breaths that never came, snapped something in his mind. He was an old man. Well past his years. But the taste of your pussy along his tongue brought back a ferocity he often tamped down in his younger age. He felt the feral want claw at his chest, and answered it with a broken snarl.

Swallowing down every drop you gave him, he plunged his tongue into your entrance, thrusting messily until a smear of your shiny slick began to coat his mouth. It covered his cheeks and clung to the hair of his beard. He'd clean it out later, taste you on his tongue until he was aching for another go. But for now he was preoccupied with the way you cried for him.

"Oh fuck!" Your thighs trembled over his shoulders, hips canting down to drag yourself along his tongue. "So good."

He shuddered, eyes rolling back at the sound of your praise. You caught it within seconds, lips pulling into a breathless smile that left him gasping for air. His teeth nipped at your thigh briefly as his hips ground into the mattress below.

"You like that baby?" you breathed, thumb smearing your own slick against his cheek.

Something hot washed over his body. A needy sick and twisted ache that he'd never indulged in before. He wanted to be a good man to you; longed to be needed. And fuck if you didn't give him everything.

You were his walking wet dream. His future handed off and wrapped in a neat little bow.

"L-Love your tongue Logan-" A high gasp tore from your throat when he dived back in. Slurping at your clit with a heady moan as you dragged him closer. "Taking care of me so well."

His hips canted down into the bed, fucking his cock along the warmth of his stomach, as you gushed into his mouth again. Eyes zeroed in on your face, pupils dilated as he growled into your flesh. You no longer could see the man you loved, but the feral side he tamped down during the day. The animal he longed to release in your presence.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum."

His arms looped around your thighs and with a sharp yank, he had his face buried deep enough to suffocate himself. You sobbed an incoherent version of his name. Nails clawed at his shoulders, but Logan could feel the pulse of your clit under his tongue.

He sucked it into his mouth with a grunt, rolling it along his tongue as you trembled with the oncoming shocks of an orgasm that threatened to destroy you.

Tears dripped down your cheeks and Logan felt the satisfying part of his heart begin to stitch itself back together. The strings were tight enough to numb his pain. To quell the flare of agony.

That used to be all he knew, all he counted on most days. When there was nothing left and he'd propped the shovel in the dirt—his grave open and waiting—he stumbled right into your arms. He found his reason for living.

Heat curled around his spine as you shook with the impending orgasm—the stimulation on your clit practically debilitating. He grunted into your soaked flesh, eyes narrowed as he chased the release that pulled his stomach taut. But this wasn't for him to indulge in; this wasn't his pleasure.

So with a throaty moan you felt reverberate along your body, he scraped his teeth along your clit and watched as your body went stiff.

"Logan!" you cried, fingers scrambling for purchase on any part of him you could reach.

You gushed into his awaiting mouth, praises of it's so good, you're so good falling upon his ears like the whimpered prayers of a devout worshiper thanking your god.

"Taste so fuckin' good," he mumbled, drunk on what you gave him.

He didn't care that you were jolting with each pass of his tongue along your pussy. He didn't care that you were shocked with overstimulation, small broken cries of his name muffled by the press of your thighs against his ears. He licked at you until he couldn't breathe. Buried his tongue into your twitching entrance and sucked out your cum with a happy hum.

"P-Please." You tugged at his hair, pulling him off you with a sob. "I-I can't anymore Logan."

"'M not fuckin' finished," he said, eyes glazed and face coated in your slick.

You made a mess of his face. The light catching along where you spilled into his mouth and along his throat. And still he wanted more. He'd spend hours between your thighs, burning your skin with his beard, if it meant he could divulge in your sweetness.

"It hurts-"

A grunt rumbled in his chest, his arms tugging you back even as your feet kicked along his back. "Just one more honey. Yeah?"

You shook your head. "B-But-"

"Thought you said it was good."

"It is."

"Then lemme be good for you." He wanted to tell you that the world went quiet between your thighs. That all his grief, all his pain, lessened when you sobbed his name.

He wanted to show you the string that looped his heart to yours—the only thing keeping him alive—and thank you for bringing him back from the dead. But words weren't his forte. Violence had become the only tenderness he knew and you didn't deserve the rough edges of an old man. You should have more.

But when you let him touch you like this—caress your skin and lick between your folds—he felt as if he was a man who finally was worthy of someone as precious as you. He could pretend he didn't bear the brunt of a fucked up soul.

The weight on his chest lifted when your tear filled gaze met his and you nodded. Small, barely there, but it was enough for him to seal his mouth back over you with a ragged moan. Your body shook as his tongue slid through the seam of your pussy. The tip nudging against your clit—careful to draw the pleasure from your body slowly.

He didn't want to give you pain. His heart wouldn't survive that. But he was a broken man; someone who begged for more even as his teeth sunk into what was already given.

You were his meal. His sacrament in the midnight hours until dawn broke across the darkened sky. You were the other half of his soul.

How could he not indulge in your sweetened tang until his tongue went stiff?

"I love you," you sighed, eyes rolled back when he sucked at your pussy, a wet low moan echoing in the air. "My p-perfect husband."

The cold press of his wedding band against your thigh drove him over the edge. You weren't officially married. Didn't have the backyard wedding with a preacher to match. But Logan had placed a ring on your finger near a year ago, sliding one over his own with the vow of forever cemented in his words.

Even if that didn't mean much in the eyes of a god who abandoned him near a century ago.

"Oh-"

Your head tipped back, mouth dropping open as his fingers dipped into your wet heat. Thrusting lazily until he found the spongey patch along your walls—driving the pad of his middle finger into it with a needy moan.

He knew it wouldn't take long for you to fly off the edge of a second release. That didn't make watching you climb to that peak any less satisfying. The sight appeased his soul. It gave him a chance to breathe; let him know that after so much bad—after so much pain—he could do something good. He could bring you to the edge of pleasure and drag you over again and again.

He could finally be the man you believed he was.

Not the animal they created.

"C'mon," he muttered. Eyes fixed on the shape of your breasts as your body curved off the bed. Hips dragging along his face with a stunted cry.

A wail bounced off the walls, piercing his eardrums with the symphony of your cries. His fingers rapidly pumped into you with a squelch that had heat burning his cheeks—lips pulling your throbbing clit into his mouth as you broke. The climax slammed into you; battering your already swollen pussy.

Logan could feel his cock swell at the sight.

"Fuckin' perfect," he grunted, teeth bared as he clambered to his knees and wrapped his fist soaked in your slick around his leaking cock. "'M gonna cum sweetheart."

Your eyes fluttered open, fingers digging into his thigh. "Please. Wanna see it baby. Look so pretty when you cum Logan."

His chest tightened, body shaking while you watched in rapture as he fucked his fist rapidly. He wouldn't fucking last, could feel the burning consume his body, but something held him back. The string around his heart yanked him away from the edge, tearing a cry from his throat when his frustration peaked.

You could see it—the glimmer of need in his dark eyes. This wasn't the first time he longed for your words. It certainly wouldn't be the last.

So you spread your legs and sat up slowly—arms wrapping around his shoulders to bring his lips down to yours. A soft moan was muffled by your mouth; the peak of his release within reach. He could practically feel the tips of his fingers graze it.

"Cover my pussy baby," you mumbled into his mouth. "Be good for me and mark what's yours."

The growl came from the very bottom of his chest when he finally came. Your name was a bitten out snarl pressed to your mouth in an open mouth kiss as he spurted over his knuckles. He pumped his cock to milk every drop; eyes fixed on the way it covered the swollen lips of your pussy. Dripping down to your entrance that fluttered at the sight of his sweaty and crimson tinged face.

"I fuckin' love ya honey," he murmured, hand cupping your chin to drag your lips back to his. "Best thing that's happened in my life is you."

You smiled, thumbs pressing to his cheeks. "Love you too Logan."

Clutching you close, he felt the string go loose. The breath finally rushing back into his lungs at the sight of your eyes glowing with the kind of light that brought him back to the first day The night he met you in that shitty bar—alcohol the only thing on his mind until he saw you.

The night you spoke his name over his covered grave and dragged him back to life with a smile.

[aayakashii]

After a long time, I offer you the sequel to this fic here 🤲

Warnings: *BANGING POTS AND PANS* KUUYA IS A SUBMISSIVE PATHETIC LOSER YANDERE IF YOU DON'T LIKE MALE SUBS YOU MIGHT NOT LIKE THIS!!!! Also: NSFW and yandere themes from Kuuya and the reader; reader is gender neutral and AFAB; 9k words 💀

Kuuya is a @devotion-disorder OC and they gave me permission to write more abt their sad and wet cat <3 I hope you like it!!! The art below is theirs as well!

♡ cannibalism as a metaphor for love ♡

The clock ticked a little bit past 6PM. You frowned as you watched the last rays of sun fade away in the sky, thinking about your house – how you could be wearing your comfortable pajamas, making some greasy popcorn while you watched a bad horror movie.

Instead, all that you had was that non-ergonomic chair, a coffee that had already gone cold and bitter and the glaring blue light of your computer burning your retinas.

You were working overtime.

It’s not a new concept for you per se, not in a black corporation such as the one you worked for. It’s just that on that specific day, it felt like everyone had left the building but you. Every cubicle was empty and the room was incredibly dim – it was anxiety inducing. You turned on as many lights as you could and put some background music to feel less isolated, but the setting simply didn’t help. You were locked in that little dystopian bubble all on your own and no amount of piled up work could make you concentrate properly when it felt like you were in purgatory.

Outside, a loud thunder made the window panes vibrate and you sighed.

“Fuck this” you murmured, getting up. You’d at least make some more coffee. Would you feel even more anxious? Yes. But you needed something to distract yourself with and brewing a new, actually sweetened pot of coffee would have to do.

You briskly walked towards the break room, trying to avoid thinking about the oppressing darkness that surrounded you, staring at your feet. However, you soon slowed down – the door to the office kitchen was closed, and you could see the light was on from the crack under the door. 

Common sense would allow you to come to the conclusion that probably someone else was in the building with you, after all. 

But in that moment, all that blared in your mind were the sirens of dread. Your mind went from thinking that a serial killer was hiding in the pantry to imagining a deadly monster coming to whisk you away before you ever thought about some other colleague being in the building with you.

You crossed your fingers hoping it was just the (possibly hot) monster from another dimension coming to kidnap you and slowly opened the door, ready to run if needed.

Instead, you were met with the curved back and the mop of messy lilac hair of someone you knew oh too well.

“Kuuya?” you called, quietly.

“AH!” he flinched, crinkling the plastic cup he had in his hand and spinning around to look at you. The water he was pouring in his cup splashed on his button up shirt and he looked like a deer caught in headlights.

You raised your hands up, like you would do to a feral animal to show you mean no harm.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to spook you. I didn’t know there was someone else here. I thought I was alone.” you said, entering the room and feeling a little bit relieved to see another sign of life in that somber building.

Even if it was from your cute and creepy little stalker.

Kuuya hurriedly grabbed a napkin and began dabbing at his shirt, nodding silently and avoiding your eyes.

You sighed loudly as you began rummaging the kitchen’s cabinets for all the supplies you needed.

As much as you allowed yourself to indulge in your sick fantasies when it came to him, most of the time Kuuya just frustrated you. You wondered if he would ever try to talk to you. Hell, would he ever even look at you in your eyes for more than a second? It was maddening.

You knew he was far from innocent, no matter how reserved he acted around you. Didn't he literally follow you to your home just to jerk off in the bushes by your window? Where is all that courage when you're right next to him?

You wouldn't mind actually taking the initiative, but most of the time you honestly felt like you were crazy. Maybe you were so horny for that sad wet cat that you were hallucinating. 

Maybe he never went to your house and it was just the wishful thinking of your deeply, deeply perverted mind.

Maybe he actually wanted to run away from you whenever you were around, but you were just too insane so you kept imagining him fisting his cock just because you breathed near him.

Although they do say that insane people never think they're insane.

God! If only he gave you A DIRECT SIGN! A green light! Something that would let you know you can take charge!

No matter how adorable his bashfulness was, he still made you feel like you were kicking a baby animal whenever you addressed him directly. And honestly, that didn't really help his case.

“Are you… okay?” his quiet voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you noticed how you were crouching and staring at a dead empty cabinet for way longer than necessary. You closed the door and got up quickly, clearing your throat.

“We’re out of coffee.” you said, pulling your phone out of your pocket. “I'm gonna order something to eat. Is there anything you want?”

Kuuya was one step away from being malnourished, you noticed. You wouldn't mind putting some food inside that scrawny body.

“Um… No, it’s not necessary… I don’t really have… um… money…”

You waved your hand dismissively as you scrolled through a delivery app.

“That doesn’t matter. I’m paying.”

Kuuya shook his head frantically while waving his hands.

“N-no, I can’t accept that!”

You side-eyed him and he visibly flinched under your glare.

“Even if you don’t tell me what you want to eat, I’m gonna order something for us. We are quite literally stranded here, I’m not going to let you go hungry.” you shrugged.

He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. God, he was so cute. Why did he act like you would straight up kill him if he said something wrong, though? Were you that intimidating? Well, not intimidating enough to keep him from masturbating right by your bedroom and stealing your stuff, apparently.

“Also” you continued “It’s going to rain soon, apparently. I don't want to make some delivery guy go out in the rain to deliver us food once we’re actually hungry, so I'll just do it now.”

Kuuya opened and closed his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but nothing would come out. He looked like a little fish, you thought, as you waited for him to say something. When he didn’t after a whole minute, you just shrugged.

“Is chicken sandwich and fries okay with you?”

He nodded, hesitant yet still licking his lips unconsciously at the thought of some good actual food. You figured he was probably very hungry. In fact, you could picture it very clearly: Kuuya getting home and just eating the least nutritious instant noodles in the world, day after day. No wonder he looked so tired all the time. He was probably running low on fuel for way too long.

“Okay. So I’m gonna order those, and also some coffee and cookies. If I'm gonna stay here and be tortured by all the work I gotta do, I wanna at least have something tasty to console me.” you mumbled, more to yourself than anyone else.

And as you placed the order, you ended up missing the little lovestruck smile that quickly appeared on Kuuya’s face.

You had gone back to your cubicle while you waited for your order. Knowing you weren't completely alone calmed your nerves and you managed to work properly for the time it took for your food to arrive.

Once you had all the bags in your hands, you walked back to the kitchen and the door was open just like you had left it. Kuuya was still there, sitting at the table, nursing a tepid cup of water.

“You didn't go back to your work station ?” you said, putting the multiple bags of food on the table, earning a startled yelp from him again. You raised an eyebrow and huffed out a laugh. “You're more skittish than I am.”

He pursed his lips into a thin line, avoiding your eyes.

“S-sorry…”

You shook your head.

“There's no reason to apologize. Here, the food arrived. Let's eat?”

He nodded, hurriedly getting up to help you set up plates and cups down, wobbling a little bit like he had to consciously think about how to walk properly.

You looked at him through the corner of your eye while he washed a few dishes. 

Kuuya always seemed like he was in distress. His shoulders looked tense like a violin string and there was always a little crease on his forehead. His eyebrows were almost always scrunched and raised up, giving him that kicked puppy look to his face that you found so endearing. It made you want to hold him in your arms and massage those little shoulders until they were soft under your fingers, and kiss those worry lines until he relaxed, even if just for a little while.

You clenched and unclenched your fingers, quickly busying yourself with putting the now clean plates on the table, otherwise you'd jump at him as soon as he looked at you with those pink doe eyes that you so deeply wished you could stare at for hours on end.

If only he wasn't so easily frightened.

Soon enough, everything was set on the table, ready for you to eat.

“Alright” you sat down and motioned vaguely towards the food “Dig in! Don’t be shy.”

Kuuya slowly sat down, eyeing the sandwiches like he had never seen food before in his life. Still, he kept his hands to himself and fidgeted on his chair.

“Is something wrong?”

“I- I feel like I should be paying for this. I promise I'll repay you once I get my next paycheck.” he mumbled, looking extremely embarrassed.

You tutted, shaking your head.

“Nonsense. You don't have to pay for anything. Now eat. It'll make me glad if you eat properly. That's how you can pay me back.”

He pouted for a moment, considering your words, then hesitantly grabbed the sandwich, giving it a nibble. His face lit up at the taste of the sandwich and his inhibitions then seemed to go down a little. He took a bigger bite, chewing happily. His chin was slightly smeared with sauce and you smiled.

So fucking cute.

As you ate, you noticed how he kept on shaking and nodding his head in order to move the long lilac bang that covered his right eye away from his mouth. After a few more moments just watching him struggle, you got up from your seat.

“Here, let me help you.” You reached inside your pockets and showed him a hair clip you always kept at hand. You reached out for his bangs, hovering your hand over his hair as if to ask for permission to put the clip on him.

He unceremoniously slapped his hands over his bangs and right eye, hard.

“N-no!” He yelled, sounding terrified.

You jumped, surprised at his uncharacteristic reaction, and raised your arms again, the second time that day.

“Okay, okay. Sorry, I won't touch it. You can put it on your hair if you'd like it, then. No pressure” you said, still offering the hair clip.

He slowly moved his hands away from his eye, shaking as he grabbed the clip from your palm. 

“O-okay…thank you and… sorry…” he mumbled, gripping the clip tightly inside his fist.

“It's no problem. Just… please pin it in a way that will keep your hair from touching your food” you grimaced “That's not really hygienic.”

He clumsily pinned his hair to his scalp, the bangs still completely covering his right eye, but somehow precariously pinned right over his ear. You gave him a nod of approval.

“I guess that's good enough.”

You two continued eating, a painfully awkward silence looming in the atmosphere, as the heavy rain that had threatened to fall all night finally pattered against the windows.

You figured you wouldn't try to break that silence, despite how uncomfortable it was. It was time for him to try and communicate with you too, and if he didnt, well. You wouldn't spread yourself thin just to receive a few nods and indiscernible  mumbles, no matter how adorable he was whenever he was flustered.

Kuuya politely thanked you for the food as he finished eating, right at the same time as you. He pushed his chair, the grating sound against the floor making the both of you flinch. He straightened himself up, as much as his hunched back would allow him to, and cleared his throat.

“I, uh. I have to go to the bathroom. I'll- I'll clean everything up, so you can leave it there. I'll be right- I'll be right back.” He stuttered, eyes flitting everywhere around the corners of the kitchen, except to you. He was tightly grabbing his elbow with his other hand, until he visibly relaxed when you nodded at his words, like he needed your permission, and scrambled out of the room.

You waited a minute or two after he left, before getting up and quickly walking towards the men's bathroom as well.

Yeah, right. Sure. Bathroom.

You might not have known Kuuya that well yet, but you knew one little thing: he was a terrible liar.

You opened the door to the bathroom as quietly as you could, hoping it wouldn't creak and possibly rat you out. When you managed to close it behind you without a sound, you exhaled a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

Stepping slowly and carefully, you walked towards the bathroom stalls and stood still for a second.

Yeah. There it was.

Your mouth quirked up into a pleased smile when you heard the sound of heavy breathing coming from a stall to your left. Gasps and choked out little moans reached your ears and went straight into your core.

Kuuya was jerking off in that bathroom stall.

You licked your lips and kept moving slowly, much like a predator trying not to be seen. You slotted yourself into the stall right beside him and crouched on top of the toilet, effectively hiding your feet from him in case he looked down.

But from the sounds coming out of his stall, he was already way too cumbrained to notice anything around him.

You could hear the sounds of his hand rubbing his cock mercilessly as he groaned, probably a little louder than he should if he was trying to be subtle.

Your breathing became heavy.

You found yourself imagining his hand grabbing his shaft tightly, rubbing his thumb against the angry pink tip of his dick, smearing the beads of precum all over his length. His other hand would be lifting his shirt to pinch and pull at his nipple, eliciting those cute little gasps you kept hearing from where you were standing.

Begrudgingly, you undid your pants’ zipper and shoved your hand into your already leaking cunt.

His moans got louder, the lewd, wet sounds of him fucking his own hand going faster and you thought of how his cock would be twitching, balls heavy with cum tightening as a warning sign that he was about to come undone.

Your fingers circled your clit, eyes closed and mouth agape with a silent moan at how fucking hot he sounded and how filthy you felt for getting off to him without his consent – but it's not like he didn't do the same to you before.

A loud, shaky moan came out of him as he apparently came all over his own hand. You thought of how he would ride his own high, squeezing every last drop of his load out of his cock until the overstimulation would be too much and he'd halt his movements.

You heard him pant heavily, stopping your movements so he wouldn't hear the wet sounds of your pussy. You were so far away from your own high, but listening to his little mewls was more than worth the frustration.

Until he opened his mouth again to moan your name.

“I love you… I love you I love you I love you, fuckfuckfuck I love you so so much.. a-ah fuuuuck…” the sounds of him furiously jerking off reached your ears again and your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to control your breathing.

He kept moaning and whining your name over and over again, probably leaning against the stall's wall as everything began to shake in the same rhythm of his hips.

You bit your knuckle hard, trying to avoid making any sounds while you rubbed yourself, chasing your orgasm to the glorious sound of your pathetic stalker fucking himself silly in your workplace's bathroom.

His whiny, slutty voice sounded like honey, viscous and sweet – something that you would swallow eagerly, leaving your tongue heavy with his syrupy, nauseating taste. 

You bit your knuckle harder as you felt the frustration of chasing a release that would not come, because you desperately wanted to taste him; to glide your tongue over his skin and memorize the salty flavor of his sweat and the musky scent of his body. Anything else would not work for you anymore.

You could eat him whole, truly. You needed your hands and your stomach and your pussy to be full of him. Urgently.

You stopped toying with your clit, allowing the anger of not even having a sad, unsatisfying orgasm wash over your body.

Kuuya seemed to finish much quicker this time, your name in his lips loud as he came a second time.

You looked down and bit your lip, pulling your own hair in frustration – you could see a few drops of his cum drip onto the bathroom floor, pitifully wasted.

Closing your eyes, you forced yourself to breathe deeply and closed your eyes. 

First, you needed to get out of there without him noticing so he wouldn't have a mental breakdown and run away. And then, only after that, you could think of the next steps of your plan.

You allowed yourself to rest your head against the wall, waiting for him to clean himself up and leave.

It was so weird, this desperate attraction you had for Kuuya and how afraid you were of messing everything up. You had your previous crushes before, sure. But nothing was ever as strong as the desire you had to cradle that stupid man in your arms and keep him with you, safe. 

You knew things were different once you found out he was obsessed with you and it still didn't extinguish that little fire inside of your core.

Usually, you'd lose interest in people as soon as they began expressing interest in you as well – you knew it was wrong and you had brought it up during therapy sessions, but it never really bothered you.

Until Kuuya. 

When you confirmed your suspicions (that he was insanely obsessed and even went as far as stalking you) you felt a strange excitement bubble in your stomach – like you had achieved something.

It made you shiver in anticipation for those little moments in which your eyes would meet his and he'd blush furiously, or when you'd purposely brush your hand against his only to watch how he twitched and rubbed his thighs together.

You were addicted to him. You wanted him even more after finding out about his feelings, and that was new to you. That was something you weren't willing to let go.

And with that, came the fear that Kuuya might be just like you. What if he was an emotionally constipated mess like yourself? What if he lost all interest as soon as you gave him an opening? Just because he was different for you, didn't mean you'd be special to him, in the off case he had the same bad habits.

That was why you were so cautious, so slow in your movements. You didn't want him to run. You didn't want to lose the feeling of being reciprocated. You'd protect it the same way you'd protect a tiny flame against the whip of a merciless wind.

But after hearing him moan your name like a needy whore, you didn't think you could hold it in anymore.

Kuuya had already left for a good 5 minutes while you were lost in your thoughts.

You quickly cleaned yourself and walked towards the sinks to wash your hands. You looked at yourself in the mirror of the men's bathroom. Sweat stuck to your forehead and your face looked flush. You were out of breath and your heart beat fast and loud inside your ribcage.

You turned on the sink, splashing cold water against your face and, after you dried up, you stared at your reflection again.

Well. So Kuuya had loudly moaned your name as he fucked his own fist. And you had masturbated to the sounds of his gasps and mumbles of your name.

No matter how paranoid you were – you were very much sure you weren't fucking hallucinating any of that.

“Walk me home?” you went to his desk after you finished the last of the details in your reports, fully intent on taking him with you to your home.

‘It’s now or never’, you thought to yourself.

“S-sorry?” he sputtered.

“Walk me home?" you repeated "The rain stopped, but it's kinda late. I don't want to walk alone. It's too dark.” 

He seemed to consider your request for way too long. Anxiety began bubbling in the pit of your stomach, and, for a moment, you thought it'd be better to just pretend you never asked anything, until he answered you.

“Okay… I can go with you.” he murmured, getting up and grabbing his shoulder bag.

You let out a breath of relief you didn't know you were holding, and smiled.

“Thank you, Kuuya!”

You didn't miss how he bit his lips and shivered at your words.

The walk home was uneventful, as you expected. Kuuya walked by your side and insisted on staying on the road's side of the sidewalk. You praised him for being a gentleman and he became a blushing and stuttering mess, but besides that, he was quiet. 

You arrived at your door and Kuuya hovered right beside you, watching you fumble with your keys.

You weren't very good at hiding your anxiety after all.

Once the door opened, you stepped inside and held it for him.

“Come inside for a moment.” you murmured after clearing your throat.

You watched his throat bob up and down when he swallowed hard. He probably had many questions and, honestly, you couldn't blame him. You had no reason to invite him to your house.

At least not obvious reasons, that is.

He did as you told after a few seconds of hesitation, although he had confusion written all over his face.

“Why… why did you invite me in?” he finally asked while he watched you shrug off your coat and kick off your boots. You motioned for him to take off his shoes as well and leave them beside yours.

“Just something I gotta do.” you answered, observing him clumsily undo the knots on his shoes.

He cocked his head to the side, looking up at you.

“What?”

Once he was finished putting his shoes right beside yours, you beckoned him with your finger, and began walking deeper inside your house and towards your room, hoping he would follow.

He did, dumb shock plastered on his face, but still compliant.

You opened the door and motioned for him to enter. As soon as he was inside, you slammed the door behind you and locked it.

Kuuya's eyes were wide as he quickly turned to look at you. He seemed terrified, the poor thing, but this time you wouldn't back down. You couldn't.

“Shhh, it's okay. No need to be so scared” you shushed him as he opened his mouth, walking slowly towards him. You placed your hand on his chest and pushed him towards your bed.

When he plopped unceremoniously on the mattress, you looked at his pants.

He was already hard.

You smirked.

“Do you know why I brought you here?” you asked in a murmur while you leaned towards his trembling figure, wiping a few stray tears from his cheeks with your thumb and holding your weight over him with your other arm.

“N-no…?”

You cocked your head, actually surprised at his answer.

“Really? Are you really that clueless?” you traced his jaw with your finger, and he squirmed underneath you, rubbing his thighs together to get any friction on the bulge inside his pants.

“I…” he cleared his throat “I don't understand.”

“Well, I, for one, am not clueless you know.” your fingers traced the length of his neck, and you smiled when a few goosebumps pricked his skin.

He gulped.

“I know you jerked off to me earlier today.” you said flatly, with a sickening sweet voice while your finger now teased and rubbed his pebbled nipples through his shirt.

He gasped and you didn't know if it was from surprise or pleasure.

“I also know you followed me some weeks ago and jerked off in that bush outside my window.” you pointed to the window hidden behind your blinds and he followed your gaze, eyes watery and cheeks a bright red.

“And I know you steal my stuff and my trash so you can keep it.” he was still looking at your window when you palmed his bulge through his pants. He arched his back, moaning loudly, and you grinned maniacally at his reaction.

Pretty slut.

“Do you… D-do you think I'm disgusting?” he asked, shamelessly grinding his hips against your palm.

“Yeah, I do. I think you're disgusting and a creep.” he moaned at your words, but his eyes closed tightly, and a few more tears ran down his cheeks. He had a pained expression on his pretty face, like you had hurt his fragile feelings.

Apparently Kuuya knew how to tug on your heartstrings.

You moved your hand away from his pants, fully aware of the damp spot that had formed on the fabric.

“But so am I.” you completed and he opened his eyes wide, looking at you like you had just grown a second head.

“Seeing you so desperate and needy…” you shook your head in defeat “It does things to me, you know.”

“I-it does?” he asked, all doe eyed, blushing and hopeful. You sighed at the sight, trying to burn it forever into your brain.

“Mhm. Yeah. It makes me wanna eat you whole.”

Kuuya shuddered as you placed your hand back on his chest, gliding it towards his throat. You held his neck firmly for a second before you gently cupped his warm and reddened cheek. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes like a cat.

“Will you let me, Kuuya?” you whispered.

“W-what?” He opened his still teary eyes, gazing at you expectantly.

“Will you let me eat you?”

A beat of silence went by and you almost felt the ugly head of shame peek into your mind, but then he nodded, a single tear falling onto your thumb.

“Y-yes.”

Like a thin thread snapping, you kneeled onto the ground and pulled his waist towards you, letting his legs hang limply on your sides. Your fingers trembled as you undid his belt buckle and you looked at him.

Kuuya was propping himself onto one of his elbows, his other hand covering his mouth as he watched you hastily take off his pants and boxers. His hard cock sprung free, leaking pathetically, and your mouth watered at the sight.

You were starving. 

It was time to eat.

Kuuya felt like he was dreaming. Or maybe he died and his very own heaven (if he would even be allowed there) was having you suck his painfully hard cock.

He forced his eyes to stay open so he could watch you. The way your tongue swirled on his head and pressed mercilessly on his slit – you had barely put his cock inside your mouth and he already felt like he was melting.

He knew he was sounding pathetic. He whined and squirmed against your hands while you kept his thighs open. It was so good, it was feeling so good he was losing control of his body.

When you started bobbing your head, hollowing your cheeks to suck him harshly, he thought he would die. It had to be wrong, to feel this good. It was criminal.

Kuuya moaned like a whore and, deep inside, in the still conscious part of his mind, he wondered if you liked it. He hoped you did, he hoped his pathetic high pitched groans made you soak your panties because he couldn't control them.

Not when you were sucking him so good.

He bucked his hips against your mouth, the sound of your gag snapping him out of his daze for a moment so he could mumble a “sorry”, but then you moaned. 

You moaned and the vibrations of your throat went through his cock and he lost it, completely. He held your head firmly, thrusting frantically into your mouth as he repeated “'m sorry! 'm sorry! 'm sorry!” until the words lost all meaning to him. With a stutter, his hips bucked again and he spilled inside your mouth, his slurred words elongating into a pornographic moan.

You opened your mouth wide, relaxing your throat as soon as his cum began spurting, eagerly swallowing the salty taste of him while he rode his orgasm until he couldn't take the stimulation of your soft mouth anymore. 

As you dabbed the drops of cum that had spilled from your mouth, he suddenly wondered, in the back of his mind, if you already had any practice doing this kind of stuff. He panted, face warm and red, dick twitching while he looked at you wiping your mouth and licking your fingers. And he felt jealous at the thought.

He wanted to be the only one. He couldn't handle the thought of you touching anyone else like that. He hated it. Hated it. He had to be the only one you'd touch like that. God, he wished he could go back in time to prevent you from touching anyone else, just so you'd always be his alone.

A few angry tears pricked in the corner of his eyes and he tackled you to the ground, surprising you with a hug.

“K-kuuya?!” you squeaked, the air leaving your lungs went he laid all his weight on you.

Kuuya began rubbing his cheek against yours, sharing the sweat that stuck to his forehead with your face, making you grimace.

“W-what's wrong?” You asked in a murmur, after reciprocating his hug.

He whined wordlessly and began untangling himself from you, holding himself up by his trembling arms.

And, for a long moment, he just stared at you.

You thought he looked beautiful. 

He wasn't exactly the most handsome man in the world, but to you, he looked angelic.

His lilac hair was disheveled and his face was flushed. His lips were a pretty red, as if he had bitten them too hard, and his eyes were half-lidded and clouded with lust and sheer adoration. It sent tingles down your spine. You wondered if anyone has ever looked at you like that, but you already knew that no one has ever held you in such high regard. It made your heart race and your core burn. 

You could sear the image of him under your eyelids and you would never tire of it.

He was gorgeous.

You tucked a strand of damp hair behind his ear and then cupped his cheek. Your thumb rubbed his skin gently and his eyes fluttered shut. He began leaning against your touch again, before he stopped himself and opened his eyes. You looked at him, puzzled, when he averted his gaze.

“U-um…” he began, after clearing his throat. You kept quiet, allowing for him to continue.

“C-can I… um. Can I eat you too?” He mumbled, closing his eyes tightly. You felt your face tingle at his words and his adorable embarrassment.

“Yes” you murmured and he opened his eyes wide “Yes, please.”

Kuuya quickly sat up on his knees, and looked around, apparently finally realizing you two were laying on the ground.

“Do you… want to move to the bed?” he asked bashfully, and you chuckled.

“Yes, it'd be more comfortable.”

He got up, holding out his hand to help you up as well. He didn't really have enough strength to pull you up, so you just held his hand tightly, not wanting to reject his help, as you gracelessly lifted yourself from the ground.

As soon as you were standing, you began pushing the waistband of your pants down, but Kuuya's hands quickly stopped you, holding you tightly. You widened your eyes as you looked at him.

“I… want to do that.” he said, bashfully.

Wow. Who would have thought he'd be so brazen for once.

You smiled, nodding, and laid on your bed, making yourself comfortable. 

You observed how Kuuya was already rock hard again and he had yet to touch you properly. He was insatiable for you and it made your pussy clench around nothing. 

He was going to be the death of you.

Kuuya, in a sudden development, decided that it didn't matter what happened in the past. What happened, happened. All he needed to do was make you forget about it all.

He needed to be good. He needed to fuck you so good that you'd forget anyone you might have hooked up with in the past. He needed to make you addicted to his tongue, his fingers and his cock so you'd always go back to him for more.

Granted, he didn't know how he was going to do that since he was a literal virgin, but he hoped his enthusiasm would convince you to give him more chances, until he had mapped every little crevice of your body and all the little buttons that made you squirm.

Kuuya licked his lips, slowly pulling the hem of your pants down while he kneeled on your bed. The sight of your soaked panties made him gasp loud, and he had to grip the base of his cock tightly, hissing as he threw his head back. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down while he swallowed hard, concentrating on not allowing himself to cum.

He couldn't allow himself to cum untouched just by looking at your wet cunt. At least not in front of you. Not right there. He would, however, be filing this image inside the safest corners of his brain to become prime masturbation material later on, that's for sure.

He leaned in, warm and shaky breath hitting the damp spot on your panties. His tongue lolled out unconsciously and he licked a long stripe over the fabric of your underwear.

He was so sure he had died. That's the only possible answer for all the things happening right at that moment. Not only did you suck him, now he was tasting your pussy?

Oh god. He was tasting your pussy.

It was like something broke inside of him, allowing all of his obsession to spill over as soon as he pressed his tongue against you. He moaned loudly, ripping your underwear away only to grip it tightly in his hand as he, at last, dived into you.

He was going to keep it to himself as a prize. 

Kuuya slurped and sucked and licked your wetness like a starved man. He wasn't focusing on the task at hand; instead, he was just getting drunk on your juices and your musk, moaning like someone who had just eaten the most delicious sweet. Oh he was so cute, all pussydrunk like that.

You hummed, gently holding a fistful of his hair as you grinded lightly against his eager tongue. You… probably weren't going to cum if he didn't suck you with a little bit more intent, but you figured you'd just let him enjoy himself for a bit more.

Just looking at his eyes rolling and hearing the sinful whimpers and grunts he was letting out was already doing something to you.

Soon enough, however, Kuuya seemed to discover that one little bundle of nerves. He gave it a few kitten licks before curling his lips against it to suck, and it was finally your turn to roll your eyes.

Your hand gripped his hair tighter and your back arched while he rolled his tongue against your clit; eyes wide when he realized he must have done something right.

One of his hands tentatively rubbed against your entrance and you cooed.

“Yes Kuuya, that's a good boy… Put one of your fingers inside me, baby”

He gasped against your pussy, the praise clearly making him lose his focus. A mean part of your brain thought about stuffing him with a butt plug just so you could make him wag a little tail whenever you praised him, but that would have to be an adventure for a later time.

He began pumping two fingers inside you, mouth going slack in awe once he heard the shlick of your wet cunt, and drool pooling at the side of his mouth.

He was so clueless and so, so cute. You couldn't help but think about actually making a mess of him.

“Kuuya” you said, not as a moan, but as a call. He stopped his motions for a second and looked at you – doe eyed, mouth and chin still glistening with your cum.

You licked your lips at the sight.

“I'll sit up a bit. I want you to lay down on the bed.” You said, as you shifted your position and rested your back against the headrest, making him crawl towards you to keep his head between your legs.

You watched as he slowly rested his body against the bed, a little yelp coming out of his lips when his hardened length pressed against the mattress.

“Good boy.” You praised him as you ran your knuckles on the sticky skin of his cheek and he whined.

“Now I want you to hump the bed while you eat me out.” you said, flatly.

Kuuya's eyes widened like saucers.

“W-what?” 

“You're hard, aren't you?” You ran your hand through his head, caressing his hair gently “I want you to fuck the bed while you eat me out. I want to watch you move your hips like a pretty slut. Can you do that for me?” 

He blinked, staying silent as you kept threading your fingers through his hair. The furious blush that spread through his face and neck was anything but unnoticeable.

“I can give you a pillow, if you'd rather hump it instead of the bed” you added, figuring he was probably already addicted to humping his own pillow like a dog in heat, so it wouldn't hurt to make him comfortable while he obeyed you.

“Y-yes… I would like a pillow then.” He whispered.

You mouthed an okay and gave him your favorite pillow – the one you usually hugged while sleeping. You wondered if he knew that. And by the way his eyes lit up when he saw the pillow, you figured he probably did.

“Take off your shirt? Please?” you asked him, after he positioned the pillow where he wanted it to be.

Kuuya pouted at your request, and as you were about to tell him he didn't need to do it if it made him uncomfortable, his trembling hands moved to unbutton his shirt slowly. You reached out to him, pausing his hands. He looked at you, sad puppy eyes glistening with tears.

“Do you want to take off your shirt? You don't have to if you don't want to.” you reassured him.

He sniffled, looking away.

“I-I don't mind.” he mumbled and you knew he was probably hiding his discomfort to please you and would never tell you the truth. 

Kuuya seemed thirsty for your approval in every little thing, to the detriment of himself. It made a little monster inside of you roar with the desperate need to keep him tucked away, safe with you, just like a dragon who hoards gold in a faraway cave.

Your thumb caressed his still trembling hands.

“Then just leave these buttons undone. You don't have to take it off.”

“But-”

“Kuuya.” You said his name firmly, making him flinch despite the gentle touch of your hand against his. You noticed how his cock twitched at that as well. “It's okay. Now please be a good boy.”

You went back to your position against the headrest and opened your legs, pussy still dripping and throbbing with the lack of attention. He gulped, licking his lips and nodded furiously.

It was hard, coordinating his movements. All Kuuya had known his whole life was to jerk off or hump his pillow, but now he had to suck you, lick you, pump his fingers inside you AND hump your precious pillow. Not that he was complaining. He loved it. It was Heaven.

But he felt a bit self conscious about his abilities, or lack thereof.

Just like he was self conscious when you asked him to strip. He hated his body – he was so scrawny and weak-looking, he felt disgusting. What if you hated him? What if you wanted something else in a partner? He couldn't risk having you uninterested in him! Not when he got what he so desperately wanted!

Showing you his body would have to wait until he was either convinced you truly wanted him, or until he got you locked up in his apartment. The last option was the most tempting to him – having you shackled to his barred window would be a guarantee that you wouldn't run away after all.

But for now, all he could do was his best – all while suffocating you with his affections until you drowned in them.

The squelching sounds of your pussy as he pumped his fingers inside you were driving him insane.

Kuuya humped your pillow like a dumb dog in heat – his hips almost bounced against the bed with how hard and deep he was thrusting. He couldn't wait until he was balls deep inside your cunt, the leaky tip of his cock kissing your cervix until he filled you whole.

He felt dizzy. He half registered how loud his moans were; all he could think was about your cum all over his face and how he fucked your pillow, mean and fast.

“C-curl your fingers up, baby” you whined, pulling his hair, and this finally got his attention.

He acquiesced, because he was good. He was so good for you and he was going to learn everything you liked because no one else would ever touch your body ever again. 

Only him.

And he had to learn it all to keep you satisfied and happy, so you'd praise him and fuck the brains out of him as a reward. It was the perfect exchange! You'd be his and he'd be yours and nothing could ever keep his grubby hands away from you now.

He would do whatever you asked.

He felt a spongy texture against the pad of his fingers, and when you mewled, legs spasming around him, he knew he had found gold, somehow.

He halted the movement of his hips to focus on swirling his tongue against your clit and fingering your cunt at an insane speed. He would for sure be extremely sore the next day, but he only cared about your loud moans and how your thighs were squishing his head so tight and so good.

When you finally came, he groaned at the feeling of your cunt squeezing his fingers inside you, pulling them deeper inside with a vice grip, and the taste of your cum wetting his whole face. He reached his own peak at the thought of how HE was the one who made you curl your toes and soak your bed sheets like that.

And another proof that he was made for you was added into his mind.

But it was too fucking much. For the first time in his life, Kuuya felt drunk. He needed more or he would die. He needed more more more more.

Maybe more than you could even give.

He didn't let you breathe at all.

As soon as your eyes fluttered open again, coming down from your high, he began crawling on top of you, panting like a feral dog. You watched as a sticky thread of his cum momentarily connected his dick to your now wet pillow and despite all that, he was still fucking hard. How was that even possible was beyond you, but you didn't have time to linger on those thoughts when he hovered over you.

“I wanna cum in you” he moaned, still moving his hips, humping your mound. His eyes were glazed over, like he wasn't all there with you, and his pupils were blown wide.

“I wanna cum in you” he repeated, panting, a little bit of drool spilling from the corner of his mouth “I need to cum in-inside you. I need to fill you up, please. Let me breed you? Please? I wanna be inside you and hnng- pump you full of my cum, please? Let me cum inside, please? Please please please let me breed you, please” he slurred nonstop, almost incoherently, while he frantically moved his hips like he couldn't control them.

He was so drunk with you that he was desperate and talking like he had never done before. 

It was pathetic. 

And so fucking hot.

“Shhh baby, it's okay” you cooed, petting his head to calm him down while your other hand squeezed his hip to try and still his movements “You can fuck me, it's okay. I'm not going anywhere.”

He whined, nodding his head and sniffling as a few tears ran down his cheeks, seemingly coming back to his senses a little bit.

“It's okay, love” you pulled his head towards you, cradling him on your chest. You kept on petting him, while your other hand softly scratched his back in order to calm him down.

Once his breathing was a little less erratic, you let him raise his chest again.

“You okay?” you murmured.

He nodded, rubbing his eyes. Then he looked down at his cock and back at you. You chuckled. He really was insatiable.

You threw your arms around his neck, eyes half-lidded.

“Then go on and fill me up” you murmured against his ear, enjoying the shiver that went down his spine.

You didn't need to ask twice.

Kuuya was so nervous.

He was about to be inside his love! He was about to fill them up with his cum, but the thought itself was already throwing him to the edge. He would have to do his best to not cum once he felt your gummy walls squeeze his cock.

Easier said than done.

Kuuya threw his head back again, a guttural moan erupting from his chest as soon as he got the head past your entrance. He heaved loudly, focusing so hard on not spilling himself so soon, whimpering whenever your walls clenched around him.

“Y-you okay?” you asked breathlessly and all he could do was nod with a pained expression on his face.

“It's okay, take it slow” you added, gently rubbing his thighs. 

You were an angel, truly. Only you would have so much patience with someone as pathetic as him. He had to fuck you good! He had to show you that you could depend on him! This way you would keep pampering him like he so desperately needed.

Through pure determination, Kuuya pushed himself further, moaning pornographically with every inch that went inside you. Once you had taken him down his hilt, he exhaled, shakily.

“T-there you go…” you groaned “Filling me up so much, my good boy.”

Kuuya whimpered. He was torn between asking you not to say those things so he wouldn't cum, and lapping up your praise like a parched man.

He began moving, slowly thrusting in and out of your wet cunt, and he felt like he was melting all over again. He was going to be just a puddle, with how good it felt. You clenched tightly around his length like you were trying to milk him dry and he realized that he was probably going to be addicted to this from then on – there was no going back.

His nails dug into the plush of your hips as he began pounding into you, fast and erratic, the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass and the wet noise of his cock being drenched in your juices were so dirty and he loved it. He couldn't help the “Ah! Ah! Ah!” he kept letting out to the rhythm of his thrusts.

You were just so good, so made for him, so his.

With a sudden movement, Kuuya hooked his arms under your legs and pushed you. He always saw that position in those porn videos, and he always wanted to do it to you. The mating press. He wanted to push himself inside you as far as he could and then fill you up with his jizz. Ah, just thinking about it made his cock twitch inside of you.

He wondered if you could feel his fast and loud heartbeat in your pussy, since his cock was so damn hard. It would be almost painful if it wasn't for your glorious wetness sucking him in so good and taking care of him.

You grabbed one of Kuuya's hand and brought it to your clit, urging him to draw little circles on it to bring you over that edge. He rubbed it quick and merciless, looking down at how your pussy was swallowing his cock, so wet that a ring of white had formed around its base as he fucked you, and how your clit also twitched under his fingers.

Not long after, you felt your abdomen tighten and your walls clench around him as you reached your orgasm, arching your back while you desperately pushed his hand away from your clit to avoid overstimulation.

Watching you cum so hard because of his very own ministrations made Kuuya cross over that edge right away as well. With a high pitched moan, he spurted his load inside you – so much cum that it spilled down  to your bed and Kuuya mindlessly tried to push it back into you while he rode his high.

His chest was heaving and his eyes were glazed over, the look of pure adoration still visible in his pink orbs as he looked at you, sweaty and thoroughly fucked (by him! Not by a toy! Much less another man! Not ever again.)

He wanted more. He needed more. He felt like he could cum over and over again inside you and fuck you silly for hours on end.

But as he opened his dry mouth to say these words, a sudden tiredness took over his body and his eyelids got impossibly heavy.

Kuuya fell down into your arms, unconsciously snuggling your figure, his softening dick still inside you as he cuddled your body and placed kisses on your sticky skin. It wasn't long until his breathing became steady and sleep took over his body.

You decided you'd let 5 or 10 minutes pass before you'd wake him up in order to drink some water, eat some protein bars and join you in the shower so you two could clean up.

But damn it, was he adorable while sleeping. He had a little pout on his bottom lip, but besides that, his face finally looked relaxed. The first time you've seen him like that in all those months you two have been coworkers.

Pride swelled in your chest as you thought about how you're the first one to ever see him like that.

The scared wet cat finally in your arms, ready for you to coddle, kiss, fuck, take care of and protect from any harm.

You unconsciously tightened your hold on him, feeling a wave of possessiveness so vile that it made you dizzy for a second.

It was a bit too much, what you seemed to feel for him. But you weren't willing to analyze that at that moment. He was right there in your arms, clutching you like you were his lifeline – and that was more than enough for you.

At least your anxiety and paranoia had been completely quelled. If he was so desperate to fuck you after you confessed you were a bit creepy for him as well, then maybe it was okay for you to be more upfront with your desires, just like he was.

Even though he truly would never guess he was being so obvious.

It was so cute, how he thought you really didn't know about anything he ever did. Not the stalking, nor the stealing. And not even the little thoughtful things he could straight up tell you because you'd genuinely appreciate them. 

However, regardless of him telling you or not, you just knew everything. Your poor little baby wasn't very subtle, after all.

Therefore, you very much knew Kuuya had stayed behind with you at work just because he knew you'd be there. He thought he was elusive, but you could pick up his intentions from miles and miles away. As soon as you first saw him idling alone in that kitchen, it all clicked perfectly in your head.

Kuuya was so silly and so dumb, sometimes. But it was okay because that made him so, so cute that you could eat him up.

Over and over and over again.

[lokissweater]

sunday's 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚

{yuta okkotsu x popular f!reader}

summary: yuta okkotsu has been in love with you since he started college— living in the shadows of your popularity as he watched from afar how your bouncy and genuine kind soul prospered and shined everywhere you went. but during one of his shifts at the 50s diner down the street from his campus, you walk in with you friends one sunday night and immediately bond over your shared love for elvis presley’s music, yuta stammering and fidgety at how pretty you are up close, and you falling fast for his pinky cheeks, sweet little words, and how he takes care of you every single day.

warnings: college!au, FLUUUFFF omg so cute, lovesick yuta he thinks you’re so prettyyy, no smut in this one!, popular reader, cursing, afab!reader, lots of mentions of elvis presley LOL, little bit of angst, clueless yuta, strangers to friends to lovers.

word count: 9.6k

authors note: THIS ONE HITS HOMEEE FOR MEEE AAAHHHH CAN YOU TELL I LOVE ELVIS PRESLEY? i live and breathe that man and oldies in general, so this is a love letter to him! :] this fic is all of my favorite things combined and it is SO FREAKING CUUTEEEE UGH i hope you all love it seriously <3333 MWAAHHH I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU—

yuta okkotsu had never seen a girl so beautiful.

you were breathtaking, watching from afar, it was truly as if the world revolved around you in the most positive way yuta could think of.

you were popular— a beam of gorgeous light following you everywhere you went as you were always just enveloped by people and strangers and friends, them wanting to talk to you, wanting to get to know you, wanting you to better their lives because that’s what you selflessly liked to do for everyone without knowing.

and every time he’d walk in between lectures and spot you— feeling in the dumps if on certain days he’d miss your presence entirely, he’d just stare. stare with pink cheeks and softened eyes as you laughed and messed around with your friends or did extracurricular activities around campus, always giving a helping hand to those who needed it no matter the status.

that’s what yuta admired the most about you. you didn’t treat anybody differently just because they didn’t stand in the same level as you. you didn’t care about things like that, and you spoke to people with such fucking class and poise, that he always dozed off picturing how it would be like if he ever had the privilege of actually speaking with you.

that’s how most of his work shifts went at the diner after his classes.

he would wait tables or be in the kitchen, wipe down the windows or run the hostess stand… and you’d be on his mind— permanently there to torment him in the loveliest way he knew how.

and on one sunday night, you were unexpectedly there right in front of him at his job.

“hello?”

you waved a gentle hand over his face, and he snapped out of it immediately, cheeks pinky and bright, your friends snickering.

“yes! s—sorry.” he reached behind the hostess stand. “how many are with you?”

“four!” you responded sweetly, yuta having to swallow the huge lump in his throat as he officially saw your smile up close for the first time in his life— a gorgeous contrast to what it looked like from far away.

yuta quickly grabbed the corresponding menus and stepped to the side of the hostess stand, leading you and your friends through the empty restaurant and to a big booth— placing two menus down on each side of the table.

a series of elvis presley oldies (a personal pick from yuta) played through the jukebox in the middle of the diner while you and your friends scanned the menu, yuta fidgeting and anxious with his pen and notepad, waiting for you to order.

“do you have a favorite milkshake from here?” your kind voice spoke, looking up at him.

“uh— milkshake?”

your friends snickered again, but this time, you turned to them and shot them all a menacing glare.

“hey!— stop that you guys…” you shook your head at them and turned back to a red faced yuta, smiling apologetically. “i’m sorry! i’m really sorry.”

your friends only looked annoyed as they buried their faces in their menus or looked away entirely— yuta shaking his head softly.

“n—no it’s alright. um— i usually prefer this one-”

he timidly pointed his pen downward, the words ‘elvis shake’ reading from it.

“it has uh— vanilla ice cream with peanut butter and bananas.” he pursed his lips. “if… if you like that?”

“oh i’m a whore for anything with peanut butter in it!…” your hands spread flat across the menu as you leaned closer, yuta shyly laughing a little at your wording.

you looked up then, your eyes bright and excited and yuta doesn’t think anyone has ever looked at him the way you were at that moment.

“is that why you like it? because of the peanut butter?”

“yeah! yeah definitely... m— mainly because of the name though.”

you stopped and your eyebrows furrowed. “elvis? do you listen to him?”

his cheeks buzzed. “do you?”

“y/n!” one of your friends harshly whispered to you from across the table. “are we here to chit chat or are we here to eat?”

“fuck okay! jesus—”

you and the rest of your group ordered, yuta nervously scribbling down the names of various platters and drinks before silently excusing himself to send the note off to the kitchen staff.

and when it came around to serving your food, placing each individual dish down for each person— yuta gently settled the elvis shake you got in front of you, adorned with baby pink sprinkles over a mountain of whipped cream with a cherry on top, something that yuta did extra for you out of the goodness of his infatuated heart, since it didn’t come with the drink in the first place.

he didn’t know why, but he could tell that the energy was different between you and your friends the second time he came around, and after hiding in the kitchen for the entirety of the time you were there instead of outside waiting tables like he was supposed to, by the third time he came back around— you were fighting with them.

he quickly retreated behind the bar and made himself look busy, guiltily eavesdropping as he picked up a random salt shaker and falsely examined it.

“i don’t understand why you guys can’t just be nice!” you pushed. “is having a normal conversation with somebody that funny? every time?”

“y/n you always talk to a bunch of rando’s of course it’s funny.”

“what the hell does that even mean?”

“it means it looks odd and you’re embarrassing yourself every time you skip around not being mindful of who you’re having conversations with!” one of them seethed, their tone judgemental and rude and one yuta didn’t like at all.

“like— like the server today! i’m pretty sure i’ve seen him around campus, he’s odd. why were you asking him about— about— who the fuck were you asking him about?“

“elvis.” you spat. “i was asking him about elvis."

“that guy! who cares? he works here why do you have to always talk to people like that—”

“like what?!” you threw your arms up. “like a normal decent human being would? i can see why you’d lack that.”

“excuse me?”

“yeah. and it sucks for you.”

“sucks for?— okay. i think we’re done here.”

“way fucking done.”

as each of them scooched out of the booth, yuta watched with wide panicked eyes while you stayed seated and silent, arms crossed over your chest and lips tight as you glared.

“i don’t know why everyone loves you so much…” one of them muttered. “there isn’t anything to you.”

and they all walked out, the bell above the door chiming as they did.

yuta’s eyes darted from you to the exit and to them through the window outside in the parking lot, watching fucking gobsmacked as they all got in one singular car and sped off, leaving you there by yourself and with the responsibility of the bill.

soft sniffles reached him, and he turned then, your body hunched over on the table as you cried with your head down, yuta’s heart aching for you.

he put down the random salt shaker he was holding and walked around the bar, slowly making his way towards your table.

“you don’t—”

you shot up startled.

“sorry! sorry—” he awkwardly scratched his pinky cheek. “i was just— gonna say you don’t have to pay the bill… i— i can—”

“oh! no you don’t have to do that.” you wiped your cheeks. “it’s okay i can pay it.”

“but they left you the entire bill.” he said softly.

“i know… it’s okay! really.” you smiled a little through your tears, the sight making his shoulders slump.

how you could possibly smile at a time like this was beyond him.

yuta started clearing the empty plates from your table when you spoke up again.

“i’m sorry you had to deal with their attitude...” you mumbled. “and my ugly crying.”

he smiled softly and shook his head. “no it’s okay. you shouldn’t apologize for them.”

“i should though…” you whined a little. “they were being mean the moment we got here and were just straight disrespectful.”

you leaned back against the plush of the booth and crossed your arms, muttering. “it’s not like they were my friends either..”

yuta quirked a confused brow, setting the last of the plates away in the kitchen before coming back around. “they weren’t?”

“nuh uh.” you shook your head. “i had just met them today actually, from a sorority event. i thought they were nice at first but i started noticing they were a little bitchy.”

“bitchy?” he laughed a little, his heart leaping like a little leap frog at the realization that it was just you and him at the diner alone, the cooks having already gone home seeing as it was past closing time for the diner.

“yeah…” you sighed deeply through your nose. “they weren’t being very nice to the other girls there either… and— and when they asked me if i wanted to come eat here with them i didn’t really want to go but—” you pursed your lips, a sheepish look on your face. “i have a hard time saying no to people so…”

yuta’s eyes softened, leaning back against the edge of the long bar table as he eyed how resilient you tried to come across but damn well knowing you were hurting inside by their actions, your cheeks still wet and your bottom lip in a slight pout.

“what they said to you wasn’t very nice…” he murmured. “i’m sorry they did that.”

you smiled warmly. “it’s okay. i get it here and there.”

his eyebrows furrowed. “here and there? what do you mean?”

“from other people that i meet.” you perked up slightly then. “do you wanna sit?” you signaled to the seat across from you in the booth and he stiffened, eyes wide and cheeks pink as he reluctantly scooched his legs over and sat across from you.

“they just get a little mad when i don’t do what they want me to do.”

“like be mean? like them?”

you shrugged a little, but the way your gorgeous eyes peered up at him indicated that he was right. “i suppose.”

“are all of your friends like that?”

“oh no! thankfully not…” you fiddled with your fingers on the table. “a lot of them are really sweet.”

yuta never thought about how something like this could be a possibility, as all he saw was how much you were loved and idolized and sought after by literally anyone who knew your name— but he missed the mark on the logistics of it. he should’ve known certain girls wouldn’t be in favor of you and desired what you didn’t have to work very hard for to get.

he saw how you wiped the remnants of your wet cheeks and sniffed, looking like you had at least recovered from crying but still a little dejected as you slouched over the table, eyes down.

“do you want… another elvis shake?”

you looked up. “what?”

“a—another shake. do you want one?” he stood slowly from the booth. “or i could get you ice cream? we just have vanilla and chocolate but—”

“oh no! it’s okay really i don’t want to freeload over what you have—”

he giggled a little. “you’re not freeloading. i’m offering.”

and before you could reject him again, he was already making his way to the kitchen— hands skillfully prepping his favorite milkshake like he’d done so many times before since the age of sixteen, and now skillfully and lovingly preparing it for you, the girl he’s adored since the moment he started college.

you stood and timidly followed after him, but instead of fully going into the kitchen, you stopped in front of the vintage burgundy jukebox and scanned the selection of songs.

“you won’t get in trouble?” you worriedly called over your shoulder. “i don’t want you to run into issues with your job…”

“no it’s okay!” you heard from the kitchen, glasses and silverware clinking together. “i’ve been working here since high school and my manager doesn’t mind. i usually um— close on sunday’s on my own too.”

the blender went off as you spotted your favorite elvis presley song on the list of selections, perking up and quickly digging into your purse for any stray quarters you magically hoped would appear inside.

yuta switched the blender off and unhooked it from the base, pouring out the frothy liquid into a fountain glass cup.

“you close on your own on sunday’s?” your head turned to where he was, catching little glimpses of him from the doorway as he moved to and fro. “the entire restaurant?”

“yeah…” he laughed awkwardly. “well— all of the time.”

“all of the time?!” you gawked, popping your head into the kitchen and accidentally scaring him.

“oh shit!—”

“sorry!” you giggled cutely. “i’m sorry…”

he laughed with you and waved you off. “it’s okay.”

yuta looked down and proceeded topping your milkshake with baby pink sprinkles again. “and yeah we’re kind of… understaffed right now. it’s just me and another kid.”

you hummed understandingly, watching the way he finished off your shake with two cherries on top instead of one like last time, making you softly smile in response.

he plopped a straw in. “here you go.”

“thank you!” you bounced excitedly on your little toes and he grinned, handing the glass over to you gently.

“i hope you feel better…”

your milkshake filled cheeks made him laugh as you paused and swallowed, the sweetest expression ever on your face as your eyes flickered to his name tag and back to him.

“i do yuta… thank you!”

the way his name rang off your tongue, something he never ever would’ve thought to hear come out of your mouth, to come out from you, sent him feeling lightheaded as fuck as he dropped his head down to hide his rosy cheeks, walking out of the kitchen as you followed after him.

you paused in front of the jukebox again.

“oh! i didn’t get to hear your answer from earlier.”

he picked his head up. “from earlier?”

“if— if you listen to elvis?”

“oh—” his gaze drifted to where you had your focus on the elvis presley selection panel on the machine. “i do! i love his music.”

you beamed, eyes lighting up so excitedly as you looked at him.

“oh my god i love him too! so much!”

“really?” he smiled. “do you— do you have a favorite song?”

“yeah! i have a lot...” you giggled shyly. “but i mainly like ‘always on my mind.’”

“that one’s a good one!” his smile grew. “i love that one too.”

“right?!” you stepped closer to him, and his face flushed. “and you? what about you?”

“i uh— i like ‘moody blue’…”

you gushed. “i like that one too!”

you loved the way his pinky cheeks bloomed and how kind he was— the way he tried his best to make you, a stranger, feel better with a cute little milkshake, his stuttering and fidgeting something that you found yourself adoring and only made your heart mushy with the weird need to pinch his rosy cheeks.

and he loved elvis.

“i’m glad you like him.” you hummed, running the pad of your index finger mindlessly over the smooth glittery surface of the jukebox. “people don’t really listen to him or oldies in general now.”

you gently set your nearly finished milkshake on the bar table as he nodded his head in agreement, thinking he couldn’t fall more in love with you over the fact that you actually liked one of his favorite artists. “i didn’t—expect you to either…”

you tilted your head. “really? why?”

“because—” he stammered, eyes darting around your breathtaking face. “well you’re popular. and pretty. and in a sorority. and i just—”

“oh— i see!” you smiled with blushing cheeks at his quick compliment, but it didn’t really reach your eyes. “i understand.”

“no but!—” your eyes stayed glued to the jukebox, and he worried that he might’ve accidentally offended you as he frantically tried to get his words together.

“i know it’s all stereotypes and assumptions so i’m— i’m sorry.”

“it’s alright!” you giggled softly. “i just don’t want you or anyone to get the wrong impression of me because of those things is all…”

your eyebrows pinched in thought, and he quickly shook his head.

“i’ve never!” he reached and placed a hand on your shoulder, your cheeks growing hot as he did so. “i’ve never gotten the wrong impression of you…”

“no?”

“no.”

you peered up at him. “what do you think of me then?”

“what do i—” he gulped. “what do i think?”

“yeah!”

“i think uh… you’re really nice.” he mumbled. “really nice. to everyone.. to me. doesn’t matter who honestly. and… you’re not afraid to say something if someone is being rude.”

yuta shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he avoided your gaze. “and you’re helpful… you put a lot of care into the things that you do, which are always never for your own benefit but for the benefit of others.”

he froze. “i— i see you around campus! a lot— so…”

your doe eyes were soft and filled with affection and warmth, the weight of his words settling into your mind as if they’ve always belonged there. as if he’s always belonged there.

you wrung your fingers behind your back then and leaned up on your tippy toes.

“you think i’m pretty?”

beautiful.

yuta hadn’t even realized that he had called you that until the moment you mentioned it again, his eyes widening as his wobbly lips tried to form coherent sentences for you.

“well— well who doesn’t...” he squeaked.

“but do you?” you leaned even closer, your cute smile nearly making him want to blurt out that he’s in love with you and that he’s maybe thought about you being the mother of his children from time to time.

“i— i do.” his eyes flickered back to yours. “i do.”

you bit your bottom lip and gleamed, giving into your impulses and reaching up to gently squeeze his flushed cheek.

“you’re so cute yuta…” you murmured, arm falling back to your side and eyes casting over the jukebox again.

and he nearly just about died.

“do you want a little donut?” he asked. “i— i can get it from the back—”

you and yuta spent literally the rest of the night until two in the morning chit chatting, playing various oldies tunes on the jukebox that conspired of mainly elvis presley, and yuta literally feeding you and giving you anything he possibly could just so he could watch the way you beamed at him every time he did— even when at one point you literally begged him that it was okay, your tummy absolutely filled with sugary sweets and drinks.

you even helped yuta close— disinfecting and wiping down all of the tables, sweeping the floors, triple shining the little elvis mural the diner had by the hostess stand, and organizing the menu’s for tomorrow’s shift.

in the midst of you wiping down the last of the big glass windows by the entrance with him, you thought of something.

“oh my god yuta—” your head snapped in his direction, his eyes widening at your sudden outburst.

“what if i work here?”

he stopped.

“work here?”

“yeah!” you nodded vigorously. “with you!”

he bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from screaming. “with me?”

“uh huh!” you chirped sweetly. “i would love to wipe down tables and listen to music with you everyday..”

yuta’s ears went red as he heard your soft voice say something so cute, wanting to literally run into the kitchen to the sink and dunk his face in sink water to cool off his boiling face.

“if that’s okay!” you sputtered. “am i being weird? am i freaking you out—”

“no! no not at all!” the corners of his lips curled, and he smiled, genuinely smiled. a big loving one that made his cheeks hurt with how hard he was doing it, and one that made your heart lightly flutter inside your chest at the way he was looking at you.

“i can talk to my manager.” he spoke gently. “i’m pretty sure he’ll take you.”

you bounced excitedly on your tippy toes, unexpectedly throwing your arms around him and landing a big fat kiss to his cheek.

“thank you thank you!”

yuta kept true to his word and talked to his manager the following day, who barely even had to think about it since he trusted yuta more than his own damn kids, waving him off and giving him the all clear to have you start the coming week.

“look look! do you likkeeyyy?”

you twirled around in your waitress uniform, the frilly pink fabric moving and swaying with every spin you made as he casually tried to bite down on his thumb in stupid restraint.

“it’s great!” he muttered, teeth locked around his thumb still. “you look great y/n.”

“thanks thanks!”

and you hopped over, giving him another quick kiss on the cheek before skipping away to the kitchen, him ecstatic as he’d been wanting another one so fucking badly again since the first time you did it— him biting down even harder on his thumb when you disappeared from view.

“why do you look like you’re about to shit yourself?”

yuta whipped around and saw his other coworker, yuji, the kid who shares shifts with him sometimes and spills everything and anything that comes out of his mouth without thinking twice about it, standing next to him with a clueless face.

yuji then wiggled his eyebrows teasingly. “is it the girl? the pretty one? the one with the big ass—”

“knock it off—” yuta shoved him away lightly and walked off, crouching down behind the bar counter and sorting through piles of rolled up silverware and buffet napkins.

“do you like her? yes or no?” yuji leaned against the edge of the bar.

his cheeks went pink.

“because if not i’m gonna go try y’know—”

yuta scoffed. “yuji you’re a freshman in high school and we’re in college. she’s in college—”

“okay maybe she likes them young? cougar moment?”

yuta looked at him absolutely horrified and bewildered. “you’re fucking insane—”

his reaction and response only made yuji double over in a fit of laughter, clutching his stomach and gasping for breath as yuta looked at him with an unamused face.

“i’m kidding! i’m just kidding i know you like her you’ve been red in the face the minute she clocked in—”

“what’s so funny?”

you popped your head in from the kitchen, making yuta jump again and yuji double over laughing like before, you giving yuta an apologetic look.

“i wanna laugh!” you pouted. “what happened? what’s funny?”

“yuta didn’t like the joke i made.” yuji quipped.

“well what was it? maybe i will!” you smiled sweetly.

“i said—”

“don’t say it!”

yuji ducked as yuta threw a kids menu at him.

“yuta has a cru—”

“shut the fuck up!—”

you covered your mouth with your hands in a little fit of giggles, the sound halting yuta mid throw to look at you with wide dreamy eyes— not wanting to miss the way you laughed and the way your nose crinkled with every hiccup.

yuji snickered and he shot him a glare before standing and walking over to where you stood.

“you don’t wanna hear it…” he mumbled shyly, fiddling with a buffet napkin. “it was freaking weird.”

you settled your giggles down and breathed, nodding cutely. “i’ll take your word for it, yu.”

yu.

“eeehh?! look y/n! look at his face!—”

“shut up!”

for the rest of the days and shifts that you spent together, yuta made it his mission to do things for you to hopefully earn him a sweet cheek kiss in return like last time, all while desperately trying to avoid yuji and his big ginormous annoying mouth actively corrupting some of his attempts on purpose.

yuta would try and bring you any kind of pastry he could give away to you without his manager knowing, or make you milkshakes randomly throughout your shifts or small BLT’s during lunch time to feed you, all for the purpose of watching the way you’d smile and hug him gratefully each time, and if he got lucky, a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“i don’t get it.” yuji shook his head during one of your shifts, him shuffling through a movie magazine on his break. “why don’t you just ask her for a kiss on the cheek? hm? i’d bet she’d do it! ooo better yet—” he looked at him with sarcastic laced excitement. “ask her out you little loser.”

yuta’s cheeks were hot as he listened, watching you from the kitchen take orders and scribble them down on a notepad.

“it’s been months yuta. months. i am in agony every day watching you follow her around like a lost puppy even though it’s the funniest thing i’ve ever seen.”

yuta rolled his eyes, but sent him a small sad smile. “can’t do it.”

“why not?” he whined. “she likes you too!”

“because she’s out of my league.” yuta pursed his lips. “and no i don’t think she likes me.”

“oh man—” yuji hunched over the sink, tossing his magazine to the side and gripping the rim in exhaustion. “she kisses your cheeks and hugs you and literally took this job because of you! what more proof do you want?!” he grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “a straight up confession?! a straight up kiss?!”

yuta’s heart accelerated at the thought as he pictured yuji’s words clear in his mind.

would you ever kiss him?… would you ever like him back?

“m—maybe?”

“what about school! do you guys not hang out or talk at school?”

“we do!” yuta perked up, but his shoulders quickly slumped. “we’re in different circles though so it’s always just for a little bit or casually.”

yuji groaned loudly and smacked a hand over his forehead. “it’s useless. you’re on your own man i tried i tried so hard i can’t help you—”

he continued to mutter under his breath as he picked up his backpack and walked out of the kitchen and out of the restaurant, the end of his shift drawing near as yuta laughed to himself over his words.

he appreciated how much yuji cared and how badly he wanted him to succeed, but even though his unrealistic expectations and hopes annoyed him most of the time as he blabbed on to him about them, yuta knew he was just a kid. so he valued it anyways.

“yu!” you spoke from behind the bar, him quickly rubbing his sweaty palms over his pants as he walked out of the kitchen to you.

“i’m so excited for tonight!” you smiled, your giddy little self practically bouncing off the walls in anticipation.

he laughed. “you’re excited to clean?”

“yup yup! i’m excited to clean with you.”

with him.

yuta adored sunday’s because that’s when you were both scheduled to close together on your own— just like the first time you did months ago, back when you weren’t working there yet.

there were no cooks, no yuji, no manager, and no customers. just you and him as you blasted elvis singles on the jukebox and got a sugar high from the ice cream machine as you wiped down tables and dusted off shelves— one time you literally slipping on the checkered tile by the entrance because you forgot you had just mopped the floor, yuta practically jumping over the bar counter to see if you were okay and him absolutely sick and worried over nothing as he showered you with more pastries and sweets to help you feel better.

that sunday night he got a kiss on the cheek.

so as you both bid the last customers a good night and got right to work, yuta considered yuji’s dumb words.

maybe he should just ask?

“if elvis was still alive i would probably sell myself to go see him.”

he let out a shocked laugh. “sell yourself? like prostitution?”

“mhm!” you hummed, wiping down the bar counter. “think about it— his tickets would probably cost like three thousand dollars. where the hell am i gonna get three thousand dollars? i’m broke and in college.”

yuta shook his head, his lips in an amused grin. “anything for elvis.”

“exactly!” you leaned over the counter excitedly, yuta on the other side with pink cheeks and a fuzzy feeling in his heart. “you get it. only you understand me.”

he laughed.

“i think it’d be cool if they brought him back as a hologram and did concerts that way.” yuta suggested.

you gasped incredulously as a hand flew to slap over your mouth. “yu! you little genius! oh my god i have to start pimping myself out now—”

yuta laughed again and shook his head. “don’t do that. we’ll find a way to get in.”

“we?!” you propped yourself up on the counter with your elbows and cupped his hands in yours, him stiffening with wide eyes and wobbly nervous lips. “you wanna go with me?”

“y—yeah.” he stammered. “of— of course…”

you squealed and nodded quickly, seemingly accepting the hypothetical proposal.

but then you settled down a little. your eyelashes slowly fluttering as you stared at him— a slow 50s love song statically murmuring through the jukebox adding to the atmosphere as you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

but this time it was different.

it wasn’t quick and cutesy and one that yuta barely had time to bask over before you pranced away. it was slow, tender, and yuta could feel the way your soft lips touched his skin and left behind a burn as he let his eyes close at the blissful gentle feeling, him finally able to relish in the rarity of it before you slightly began pulling away, eyes twinkling.

“…do you still think i’m pretty?” you whispered.

he swallowed thickly, your face so close he could feel your breath fanning across his lips.

“i do.” he whispered back, eyes locked on yours. “very much so.”

you bit your bottom lip as you smiled, ever so slightly leaning closer and closer to him as your lips nearly brushed against—

riinnggg!

you quickly pulled away and ran to the back to answer the phone, leaving yuta sitting there swooning and nearly collapsing on the table, his hands cold from not being encased in your own soft hands anymore.

but most of all… leaving him confused. he didn’t know why you were leaning in like that.

“i’m sorry we’re closed for the day!… uh huh… we open at eight am tomorrow if—”

yuta could still feel the blaze your lips left behind on his cheek as you spoke on the phone, his hands coming up to rub his eyes as he tried to get his head back down from the clouds and simmer down the beating of his heart.

“someone wanted to come in right now!” you exclaimed, coming back over to your previous spot.

he furrowed his eyebrows. “right now? are you serious? it’s—” he spun around on the barstool and turned his head to the coca cola themed vintage clock on the wall. “it’s nearly twelve am?”

“i know!” you breathed out. “we closed four hours ago.”

“four?!—”

it dawned on the both of you how long you had been inside the diner, fully convinced it would’ve been longer if you hadn’t noticed.

so as the two of you mutually agreed to finish up and gather your things— the jukebox switched to an iconic elvis presley slow love song as you were just about halfway through the entrance double doors, eyes snapping to each other’s.

“aw i love this one…” you spoke softly, a little whine seeping through.

a small close lipped smile spread across his face. “i love this one too.”

“do you wanna—” you stopped.

his eyebrows pinched. “do i wanna what?”

“do you wanna… dance with meee?” you dragged out cutely, slightly bouncing on your toes.

“dance?” his eyes widened. “i— i don’t know how—”

“s’okay! i’ll teach you!”

you quickly pulled his hand and dragged him out, opening one door and jamming a door stopper underneath it so the music of the jukebox leaked out of the diner and through the empty street.

the pavement was a little wet from the morning rain as you took his hand again and pulled him to the middle of the dead empty street, the bottom of your shoes tapping and splashing a little with each tiny puddle you stepped in.

elvis presley’s voice softly hummed through the air, but it was loud and clear to the both of you as you gently took yuta’s hands and set them around your waist, his heart fucking palpitating and feeling like he was about to have a stroke when you wrung your arms over his neck and showed him that pretty smile he loved so much.

you both slowly stepped side to side, the air crispy and cold as your breath’s blew out foggy misty clouds due to the condensation, both of your noses and cheeks flushing red and buzzing warmly as you continued to slow dance— yuta’s grip slowly tightening until he was practically hugging you flush against his body.

out of anything that could possibly happen to yuta in his life, he wanted to remember this moment specifically— with you, dancing in the middle of the street listening to the man that essentially brought you both together in the first place, your beautiful beautiful face looking at him like he was the most important thing in your life… yuta wanting so badly for that to come true as he basked in this little made up scenario in his head that you were already his.

“yu…” you murmured.

he didn’t trust his voice.

“hm?”

“why haven’t you kissed me yet.”

what?

“kissed… you?”

“yeah..” you whispered, your bodies swaying. “don’t you like me?”

yuta let out a shaky breath. “i— i mean yeah… who doesn’t?”

your smile faltered. “i’m talking about you though…”

“oh. well you know i do. i’m sure a lot of other guys would want to kiss you.”

the song drawled to a gradual close and the jukebox reset, you both no longer swaying but still holding on to each other.

your eyes drifted to the side. “other guys?”

he pursed his lips, not really liking the thought of you kissing guys, but answering your question anyways. “yeah… other guys.”

his emphasis on other guys and not on himself left a bad taste in your mouth.

your eyes narrowed in confusion as you looked up at him, yuta a little shocked at your sad expression.

did he say something wrong?

“i thought—” you shook your head softly. “i thought you…?”

“…thought me what?” he cocked his head to the side, his genuine confusion solidifying his rejection in your eyes.

“i— i thought—”

your hands slipped from his shoulders and you stepped back, yuta sadly complying and letting his arms open and fall beside him as you rapidly blinked back tears, his eyes slowly widening once he caught it.

“hey— are you okay? what’s wrong?”

yuta went and reached for you, you backing away in response as you shook your head and gave him a small smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes at all.

“why are you crying? did i say something mean? i’m sorry—”

“no no i’m fine.” your voice was quiet and sad. “i think we should go home now.”

his shoulders deflated.

“are you sure? we— we usually hang out until at least one in the morning on sunday’s…”

you walked past him and towards the double doors of the diner, letting your tears slip in secret as you picked up your school bag and swung it over your shoulder, quickly wiping your cheeks before picking up his bag and giving it to him.

yuta thanked you and hoisted his backpack up on himself, ushering you gently to step to the side as he pulled the door stopper from beneath and placed it in its corresponding place by the entrance, letting the door close on its own before pulling out the keys from the pocket of his jacket and locking the diner up.

he did all of this— completely unaware to the way you were trying to quiet down your sniffles behind him.

you were so sure he liked you back… now you just felt a little stupid.

of course— the one genuine guy you came across that you actually liked out of all the others that you’ve met, one that wasn’t like the rest and was sweet and funny and caring and so so attentive of you… didn’t like you back.

the one thing you truly truly wanted, you simply couldn’t have— you walking ahead of yuta in silence through the parking lot with your arms crossed as you wondered if the way he treated you was literally just because that’s how he was as a person.

a good person at that. way too good for this world, and way too good for you.

yuta didn’t know why you were so quiet, his chest a bit achy at the absence of your usual cheerful voice.

when you reached your cars, you barely even bid him a proper goodbye like you always did before you got in your car and sped away, leaving a perplexed yuta standing alone in the parking lot— eyebrows pinched together in clueless concern.

you were acting so weird, and you unfortunately continued to do so for the following week.

the next time you came into the diner (which was literally the next day), yuta was taken aback by how bloodshot and sunken your eyes were when you came in for your shift, not saying a single peep to yuji and him when you walked through the kitchen or through the bar counter like you usually did… and it was weird.

through the bustling of the busy restaurant, it was oddly quiet to the two boys, simply because you weren’t your usual boastful self.

and you were hardly talking to yuta either… which pained him the most. you kept it strictly casual— as if you weren’t completely tied together every fucking day for almost a year now, you just completely casual about your day and about the things you had to do whenever he asked you, your one word dry responses sending him through the worst confusing and sadistic loop of his life.

but it wasn’t casual at all. nothing about you was casual. so why were you acting like this? did you finally maybe open your eyes and realize yuta was a big fat nobody who didn’t belong with a girl like you?

yuta nearly cried at the thought. perhaps you had finally realized that.

but how fucking cruel was it that he lived a year of love and beauty and everything that was just you, getting a taste of what it would be like to live a life where you thought of him as something really special and a life where you wanted to basically do everything with him— only to be ripped away from him overnight? with no explanation?

by wednesday, yuta was dead inside.

you didn’t seem to want to do anything with him anymore like before. you didn’t excitedly jump and squeal and bounce on your little toes when it was time for the both of you to clean during your shift or restock the ice cream machine. you didn’t talk to him about elvis anymore or about another ludicrous idea on how to resurrect him from the dead— you didn’t smile like you used to whenever he tried to give you a small pastry, actually rejecting it instead, and you didn’t kiss his cheeks anymore.

by friday, yuji was fed the fuck up.

“what the fuck did you do?!” he whispered harshly at him from the bar, you somewhere in the diner taking orders. “that woman is like a walking zombie. her eyes have been red like red since monday, and she’s not yapping about elvis anymore.”

yuta leaned against the counter with a flat palm to his forehead in worry, feeling like he was gonna be fucking sick over you.

“i— i don’t know.” he stuttered. “i truly don’t know i don’t know what i said that’s making her act like that.”

“okay run it back for me run it back.” he placed both hands on his shoulders and roughly pulled yuta to face him. “explain to me again what happened on sunday.”

“we were closing…”

“uh huh?”

“she wanted to slow dance in the street so we did…”

“okay cute i love that part okay keep going..?”

“and then she asked why haven’t i kissed her—“

“she what?!” yuji choked, “you didn’t tell me this part! you fucking jumped to the parking lot!”

“my bad…” yuta muttered.

“shit— whatever keep going.”

“she also said that she thought i liked her and i said who doesn’t… and then i told her i was sure other guys would want to kiss her.”

“you said other guys?”

yuta’s eyebrows pinched. “yeah?”

“you. said…” yuji repeatedly slowly. “other. guys.”

“yes i did—”

“oh you’re done.” he rapidly shook his head. “i can’t help you i’ve done all i can you’re my buddy and i love you but i cannot take this anymore—”

“woah woah slow the fuck down—” he narrowed his eyes. “what’s so bad about what i said?”

“you rejected her.”

“what? no i didn’t—”

“yes!” yuji nodded frantically. “yes you did you freaking dingus! yuta she wanted a kiss from you a kiss! she literally said ‘when are you going to kiss me!’”

“i thought she was joking about that?” he answered softly.

“i might die early if you don’t figure this out right now.” yuji spat. “when you said other guys, she took it as you saying you’re sure other guys would want to kiss her and not you! do you understand what i’m trying to say?!”

yuta stayed silent.

“you said ‘i’m sure other guys would wanna kiss you,’ which is you indirectly saying ‘i’m sure other guys would wanna kiss you but not me.’ emphasis on others—”

“holy fucking shit.”

why was yuji kind of smart?

“oh thank god!” yuji breathed out, throwing his hands up in the air before clasping them together and looking up at the ceiling, his eyes screwed shut as he shook his interlocked hands and prayed.

“thank you! thank you elvis presley for finally making him see what a dumbass he’s been this entire year especially this moment your music has never been better—”

yuta shoved his fingers through his hair, his eyes bulging open. “holy fucking shit what the fuck did i do?!”

you walked past the bar just then and they both shot their arms down and tried to appear as nonchalant as humanly possible, you not even sparing them a glance as you walked over to the kitchen and disappeared from view.

“oh you have got to fix this.”

yuta spent the rest of the week trying to devise a plan to ease into the situation and have a conversation with you about it, but doing it fucking poorly as he miserably couldn’t come up with anything and yuji having even worse ideas— going as far as to suggesting he kidnaps you and takes you to elvis presley’s home in graceland and apologize there, yuji calling it a ‘grand gesture.’

by sunday, yuta was grasping at straws.

you slowly looked up from the bar as you saw a little sprinkled donut pastry slide across from the other side, your stinging eyes locking with yuta’s and feeling an immediate colossal pang through your chest when you saw him.

“you um—” yuta sighed softly through his nose. “you haven’t had a donut from here in a while…”

“oh.” your eyes stayed glued to the pastry. “thank you but i’m alright. i’m not that hungry right now.”

yuta bit his tongue. “please.”

he wasn’t pleading for you to eat the damn donut, but he pathetically couldn’t get the words out properly either.

“i don’t want it i’m okay.”

“why not?” he pushed. “you love donuts. you haven’t accepted my milkshakes either and you love those too.”

“i got sick of them.”

yuta froze.

you sounded like a completely different person at the moment, and yuta knew that your words held an entirely different meaning to them— his heart literally throwing up all over his insides in distress.

it was near closing time, the last pair of customers just about finishing up their meal as you both stared solemnly at the uneaten donut.

“are you—” yuta cleared his throat. “are you mad at me?”

the customers called you over then, and you quickly pushed yourself off from the edge and walked over as yuta heard your kind customer service voice from somewhere in the diner finalizing the bill for them, the bell above the door chiming as they left— you coming back around to stand back on the other side of the bar.

“sorry what did—”

“are you mad at me.”

you shook your head, eyebrows pinched. “no. why would i be mad?”

“are you upset with me?”

you hummed a no.

yuta wanted to rip his hair out at the fact that he couldn’t fucking think of what to say to you— not wanting to accidentally say something that could offend you like last time without him even knowing, as he didn’t trust his mouth for shit.

“you haven’t looked okay since last sunday.” he murmured. “you don’t look happy around me anymore.”

you pulled your lips into a thin line and pressed hard, already feeling tears threatening to spill.

“it’s just school. it’s tough at the moment.” you mumbled.

“you’re lying.”

you slightly snorted. “okay thanks.”

“no— fuck i did it again.” he screwed his eyes shut. “i know you’re upset with me and i know you’re mad at me. you don’t talk to me as much, you don’t— you don’t take any of the sweets and drinks i give you when you always do, and you refuse to talk to me about elvis.”

“it’s school yuta i don’t know what else to tell you.”

he groaned and pushed himself off the bar, swiftly making his way around the counter to stand right in front of you as your pretty red eyes widened, your body immediately fidgeting.

“please… i miss you.” he mumbled, and your bottom lip started to wobble. “i miss when you wanted me around.”

“i— i do want you around.” you said, so so softly he could barely hear you.

“then please tell me what you’re feeling.”

you brought your hands up and pressed your fingers into your eyes, trying your absolute hardest to keep the tears inside as your body trembled.

“it’s all me it’s not you so— so please don’t worry about it it’s school and— and—”

“i love you.”

you paused.

yuta shakily pried your fingers away from your eyes, holding them in his hands as silent tears escaped down your cheeks.

you shook your head. “no you don’t. you’re just saying that—”

“i love you.”

“stop it you’re being mean i don’t need you to tell me you love me because you feel bad for me—”

you tried to tear your hands away but his grip only tightened as he shook his head and wrung you in, pressing your hands flat over his heart and holding them there as he leaned and pushed his lips to yours, the taste and feeling of you complete fucking paradise as he hoped that the weight of his lips were conveying how much he truly fucking loved you, how much he truly needed you in his life and how much he wanted you to treat him like he was something to you again.

he was tired of you carrying around the missing half of him, but not because he wanted you to give it back.

he wanted you to keep it. he wanted you to keep it forever and ever and not let it dangle over ineptly like you’d done for the past week. he wanted you to kiss it and shove it next to your heart and keep it there snug where it belonged until the day that he died.

the jukebox murmured another soft 50s tune, you slowly but surely letting your tense shoulders relax as you allowed your lips to move against his, your heart screaming and zooming through your bones at the fact that this man was kissing you like you’d wanted and dreamed for him to do so badly for the past year.

you both slowly pulled away with your lips quietly smacking apart, your stunning face finally looking at him the way you always did, the way you used to, even if it was a little timid still.

“are you lying?” you murmured.

his eyes softened as he gently shook his head.

“absolutely not.”

“but you rejected me.”

he sighed through his nose, his hands still pressing yours over his heart as you felt it beat rapidly under your palms.

“i— i didn’t mean to. i swear to god i didn’t mean to.” he gently dropped his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes. “i was being stupid and worded everything wrong. but— but i’m telling you now that i wanted to kiss you… so fucking bad. you’re too pretty for me so i honestly thought i just didn’t stand a chance…”

you couldn’t believe it.

“i don’t want other guys to kiss you.” he continued. “not at all… just me.”

“just you?” you murmured, and he nodded against your forehead.

“just me.” he propped his chin on the top of your head. “i’m sorry i hurt you and made you cry.”

“no yu…” you spoke gently. “i’m sorry too. and i’m sorry i said i was sick of the sweets you give me… i was lying i love them.”

he chuckled softly.

“it’s okay… i know.” yuta gently caressed your fingers with his thumbs. “but i love you pretty.”

“i love you.” you whispered, and you slid your hands up his chest and around his neck, pulling him down in a warm embrace as he copied and pulled your body to his so so tightly, your hearts beating in time with one another as he felt his fingertips go numb at your confession, kissing your soft little cheeks over and over and over again until he got giggles out of you.

yuta loved sunday’s… and so did you.

and when he asked you to be his girlfriend that same night while standing over the jukebox, staring at the elvis presley song selection like you’d done many times together before in the past, yuta for the first time realized that he hadn’t felt alone since the moment you came into the diner with your mean friends— finding himself actually thanking them in his head for that, realizing that if they hadn’t then you probably would’ve left with them and he would’ve never gotten the chance to speak to you that night.

the next time you both came into work, you back to your usual jumpy self as you took every pastry that yuta gave you again and babbled about elvis and how you were gonna spend your hypothetical prostitution money on a flight to memphis to see his grave and pay your respects, yuji was elated.

“what happened?! you have to tell me what happened come on you can’t keep it from me i’m just a boy—”

you skipped into the kitchen then and smoothly walked in between them, pressing a gentle cute peck to yuta’s lips before grabbing what you needed from the back and walking back out, yuji’s mouth flinging open and his jaw hitting the fucking floor.

“how— what— when— where—”

you stepped back in after a second and bounded over next to yuta, his eyes soft as he watched you lean your head on his shoulder.

“what?” you asked. “what’s wrong yuji?”

“oh god no!” he wailed, dramatically throwing an arm over his eyes in agony. “i thought this is what i wanted but it’s not! i want a kiss like that man!”

he flew to his knees in front of you and took your hand in his. “y/n why can’t you just wait for me please?! wait five years you’re so pretty i won’t confuse you like this dingbat and i’ll give you better sweets and milkshakes than him please!—”

yuta took your hand and slapped yuji’s away. “you freak stand up man the floor is dirty—”

“i need a popular gorgeous girlfriend like you yuta! how could you do this?! i thought we were brothers?! what spell did you cast?! have you ever learned jujutsu?! what have i done!—”

your manager popped his head into the kitchen and you all stiffened.

“yuji why are you crying? everyone outside can hear you, kid.”

yuji flew to his feet and shook his head. “m’not crying sir. everything is fine just fine and dandy sir.”

“okay… well can you check on your tables? leave yuta and y/n to work.”

“yes sir i’ll check on them sir.”

your manager nodded, muttering something about today’s generation as he left and went back inside his office, yuji walking out of the kitchen shortly after with his head down as you both tried your hardest to keep your laughter in, hands tightly clasped over your mouths and silently snickering to keep yuji from hearing it on the other side.

“p—poor him.” you heaved, a hand over your chest. “i hope— i hope he finds his ‘popular girlfriend’ when he’s older.”

“i wish her luck.” he muttered, and your hand slapped back over your mouth again as you burst into another fit of giggles alongside him.

yuta sheepishly outstretched his arms for you once you both settled down, you perking up excitedly with a cutesy little grin as you skipped into them, your arms wrapping snug around his torso as he brought his around your shoulders and squeezed, earning a tiny squeak from you that made him laugh.

he hoped to god he wasn’t dreaming.

yuta started shifting his weight from one to the other, gently moving and swaying you side to side in the kitchen as you giggled and let him lead you like that.

“you slow dancing yu?” you murmured softly, head coming up to give him a kiss on the cheek as he blushed.

“yeah..” he hummed. “i like it when we do.”

“i do too yu… it’s like our little thing! we’re so vintage.”

he snorted, and a charming beautiful smile spread across your face— one that made him wonder how he ever managed to land you when all he did was wait tables and stutter foolishly and wasn’t anyone particularly special like you were.

but you. you were everything. everything and way fucking more as you looked at him like he built the diner himself brick by brick for reasons he still couldn’t understand why.

yuta spoke after a moment.

“…what do you think of me?” he murmured suddenly, cheek mushing up against the side of your head as your brows furrowed.

“what do i think of you?” you asked, your perplexed face slowly shifting to one of realization as it dawned on you how yuta was reiterating your words to him from when you first met.

he grinned. “yeah.”

you pulled back to face him.

“i think you’re kind… you always have been even when i didn’t deserve it.”

his jaw dropped. “what? didn’t deserve it?—”

“i’m not finished!” you pouted, and he playfully rolled his eyes as he shut his lips.

“you’re too good to me yu…” you sighed a little. “you’re so helpful and selfless, and even when things piss you off you still take the time to appreciate them… like yuji.”

you both snickered then, and yuta brought his head down and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

“i love the way you love, yuta. i love the way you love me and take care of me and always feed me…” you giggled. “without me ever having to ask.”

you felt his arms tighten around you.

“don’t ever think that you aren’t special to me or anyone or i’ll kill you and go to graceland without you.”

he laughed loudly in your neck and pulled back, half lidded ditzy loving eyes staring back as he leaned in and kissed you— gentle and delicate, his hands coming up to cup your warm cheeks.

“jesus man table nine would not stop asking me for— oh god no!”

you and yuta jumped apart, yuji immediately wailing and crying again as he flung himself to the floor on his knees.

“really?! in my kitchen?! in front of my face?! how cruel can you be yuta?! y/n can you maybe give me a ki—”

yuta leaned down and smacked him upside the head.

“owwwuhh! what’s wrong with just one little kiss man?!—”

“cut. it. out!—”

and just like always, the week came and went, sunday fast approaching as the day eventually came to close the diner together like lovely clockwork— wiping down tables and sweeping the floors, organizing the menu’s and restocking the crayons for the little kids, gulping down milkshakes with yuta like water as you worked…

but most importantly— sharing long kisses in between each sweeping rotation, kissing and pinching his cheeks repeatedly whenever he asked or did literally anything, and slow dancing to the same 50s love song that played when you first tried to kiss him at the bar that one night, swaying together in a silly way and giggling whenever you’d both nearly topple over to the floor— yuta beaming and lovesick as he looked down at your gorgeous smile and your gorgeous face… it gleaming with so much purpose, so much pure love and importance and value for him as you danced—

that yuta decided he wanted you to keep the other remaining half of him too.

forever.

this! is the song that was playing when reader was about to give yuta a kissy kissy on the bar counter, and again at the end if you’re curious :3 it was playing when i wrote it and it literally fit so well and lifted my entire body and spirit and i felt like i was THERE MAN! <333

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs

(HATE when tumblr doesn’t let me tag some of yall i don’t know why it does that!!)

[skzdust]

Hotel Showers

SMUT. MINORS DNI.

This fic was a request from @chanchansgirly (here) and part of my 500 followers celebration! The request was prompt #1, only one bed, with Chan, NSFW!

I hope you all like it!

Summary: Y/n and Chan get stuck in a very cold hotel room together... and there's only one bed.

Pairing: Bang Chan x Flustered!reader

Includes: only one bed trope, handcuffs, fingering, cumming inside (PLEASEEEEE USE A CONDOM IRL)

Word count: 1.9k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife,

@hyunjinsjeans, @somethingkindazainy, @silverstarburst, @atzlordz, @jeonginsleftcheek

Network:@mirohs-aurora-society

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Masterlist

-----

“Seriously?” You blinked at the desk attendant.

He smiled back at you apologetically. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m afraid the blizzard’s got us more crowded than expected. The only room we have left does just have the one bed.”

You sighed. “Just give me the key.”

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

You walked back over to Chan, key card in hand. “Sorry, it looks like they’ve only got one room left, and it only has one bed.”

Chan smiled. “Oh, no worries. It’s just one night.”

“I can sleep on the floor if you want. Or in the chair. Those hotel chairs are surprisingly comfy sometimes. I mean, sometimes they’re just not, but, like, this one will probably be fine.” You found yourself rambling.

Chan laughed. “Y/n, if you’re okay with sharing the bed, that works for me.”

“Oh—okay.” You could feel your cheeks reddening.

He turned towards the elevator. “Lets’ go.”

You went upstairs to your room, and you pulled a book out of your bag to read while Chan was in the shower. You tried to stop yourself from thinking about that shower, about the water running through his hair, down his shoulders, over his abs, and lower…

You closed your book with a sigh, opting to doomscroll instagram instead.

The water turned off, and a few minutes later Chan opened the door. Thankfully for your sanity, he was wearing a shirt. “Bathroom’s all yours.”

You smiled. “Okay, I’ll just be a few minutes.”

You went into the bathroom. It felt strangely intimate, erotic, almost, to be in a bathroom filled with the steam from Chan’s shower.

You started your shower before you realized you’d left your body wash in your suitcase. You resigned yourself to hotel soap before seeing Chan’s little blue bottle on the shelf. He must’ve left it there.

He probably wouldn’t care if you used it, right?

You carefully squeezed some into your palm. It smelled good, masculine and clean.

You got out of the shower, dried off, and put on a T-shirt and sleep shorts. You regretted your decision as soon as you stepped out of the now even steamier bathroom. “My God, it’s cold.”

Chan laughed from where he was sitting under the covers. “I was just messing with the thermostat, doesn’t look like it’s getting any warmer in here.”

You gave a short exhale. “Of course.”

Chan patted the sheets beside him. “Here, it’s warmer in bed.”

You got in bed with him, burrowing under the blankets. “I guess a little bit.”

“Can I help?”

“Can… can you help?” You were confused.

“Can I touch you?” Chan’s smile was soft. “Just to help warm you up.”

“Oh… um, yeah, please.”

Chan reached towards you, pulling you into his arms and cuddling you close to his chest.

You were sure he was able to feel your heartbeat, because you could feel it all over your body, especially between your legs.

“Are you comfortable?” Chan whispered.

“Yeah, I’m really comfortable.” You pushed your head into his chest. “You’re warm, Channie.”

“Channie?” He laughed.

“I— sorry, I just, like, a nickname, you know, like, how, like, friends call each other nicknames. You know, like friends do?” You rambled.

“Y/n, calm down. You’re allowed to call me Channie. I would even go so far as to say I like it.”

“Oh.” You could feel your cheeks going hot.

He paused for a moment. “Wait.” He helped roll you over, so your back was flush against his chest. You could feel yourself growing wet at the manhandling.

He pushed his face into the crook of your neck and inhaled deeply. You took a shuddering breath of your own at how his lips brushed your skin.

“Did you use my body wash?”

“Um… I forgot mine, I didn’t think you’d… mind.”

“I don’t… mind, exactly.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I think it’s hot more than I think it’s a problem. Which is, in and of itself, a problem.”

“Why?” You breathed.

“Because we’re sharing a bed… catch my drift?”

“I think you need to spell it out for me.” You shifted, angling your hips against his crotch. You could feel a bulge forming already.

He hissed. “Y/n, don’t tease.”

“I’m not teasing.” You whispered. “I mean it.”

You squeaked as Chan flipped you around again, and you were met with his piercing gaze. “You mean it?”

“Yeah.”

His hand drifted up the inside of your thigh. “How do you want it?”

You were a little taken off guard. “Want it? I— uh, inside me, I think.”

He laughed, then brought his lips up to your ear to whisper to you. “I mean, do you want it rough? Want to worship me? Want me to put you on a leash and choke you like a dog? Do you want me so bad you’d do anything for me?” He nibbled on your earlobe, and you shifted with a whine. “You know, if you’re into that.”

“Yes, Chan.”

“To which one?”

“All of it.”

He smiled, and you were caught off guard by his wide, ray-of-sunshine grin. “We’re gonna have fun. I’ll be right back.” He got off the bed, and you shivered at the sudden loss of his heat.

He shuffled through his luggage before pulling out a pair of leather handcuffs.  You didn’t even want to question where he’d gotten them or why they were in his suitcase. “You want these?”

Your eyes widened. “Ye-yes, Chan, I do want those.”

“Good girl.” He murmured, climbing back onto the bed. “I’m gonna tie your hands to the headboard, okay?”

“Yes, Channie.” You held out your hands. He guided you to lay back, and he fastened the cuffs around your wrists and then clipped them around the headboard. You tugged a bit at them, and you moaned when they didn’t give.

He just sat in front of you for a moment, watching you watch him.

“Beautiful.” He eventually mumbled. “Lift up those hips for me, and we’ll get your shorts off.”

You nodded, lifting your hips so Chan could slide your shorts and underwear off. You were soaked, and Chan dragged a finger through it before licking it clean. “Damn, all this over me just touching you a bit?”

“I— I mean, before, the shower, I was just thinking about— um, about nothing.” You stopped before you could make a complete fool of yourself by admitting to picturing him naked in the shower.

It was too late for that, though. Chan raised an eyebrow. “Were you thinking about me in the shower?”

You swallowed. “Uh… maybe.”

He shook his head, smiling. “You want me more than you’ve been letting on, don’t you?”

“Uh… maybe.” You said again.

His eyes raked over you. Once, then again. “Can I finger you, sweetheart?”

You felt a wave of heat rush through you, and you were hyperaware of your heartbeat again, pulsing through you. “Yes, please.”

He circled one finger around your entrance for a moment before beginning to press inside. You whined.

He paused. “Something wrong, baby?”

“No!” You squeaked. “Nothing’s wrong! Keep going, Channie, please.” You breathed the last word, and you were unsure for a moment if he’d even heard you until he hummed.

“Please sounds so good coming from your mouth, baby.” He all but purred, pushing his finger in all the way.  Your eyes rolled back, and a broken moan fell from your lips. “Say it again.”

“Please.” You whispered. “Another finger, Chan, please.”

“You’re asking so nicely.” He added another finger, as requested, and you arched your back off the bed.

“Fuck.”

“Can you take another?”

“Yes.”

He added in a third finger. You felt so deliciously full of him, and you absently wondered if his cock would fill you up as good.

He pulled out his fingers and licked them clean, keeping eye contact with you the whole time. His tongue lewdly lapped at his long fingers, making wet noises.

You moaned. “Please, Chan.”

He paused to raise his eyebrows at you. “What are you begging for, hm?”

“You.” You said honestly. “Want you, um, deep— deep inside me.”

“Shy all of a sudden?” He dropped his hand to your pussy, rubbing at your clit. “I’m gonna be deep inside of you in just a second, sweetheart.”

You pushed your hips into his hand, and he laughed. “Greedy little thing.” He pulled away to take off his shirt and pants, leaving him completely naked on the bed in front of you.

“Fuck.” You whispered. You’d known he was muscular, but he was absolutely gorgeous like this, sculpted like he’d been made by Michelangelo.

And his cock… he was big, and he was hard, and you wanted him so badly you were practically salivating.

“Can I fuck you now?” He whispered, his hands hovering over your hips, waiting for your consent.

“Yes, Chan, please, yes.”

You watched as he lined himself up with your dripping hole. “Ready?”

You nodded. “Mhm.”

You put your attention to his face as he pushed inside, at the way his expression went slack as he went deeper and deeper inside of you. You tried to reach up to touch him, but the cuffs rattled loudly.  Something burned inside you. The restraints were turning you on.

His eyes snapped open. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just… it’s hot, not being able to touch you, while you touch me all you want.” You said shakily.

He smirked. “Good, that’s the goal.”

“Can you fuck me now?”

He pushed your hair back from your desperate expression, gently pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Yes, sweetheart.”

He started to rock back and forth, and it took a bit of adjustment before you found a position that was comfortable, but when you settled into it, it was heavenly. Chan’s cock hit spots inside you you didn’t even know existed, and you were soon seeing stars. You gently moaned with each of his thrusts, the sounds of his skin on yours and your moans and his strangled noises filling the room. Chan was so good at this, so good at figuring out exactly what your body needed.

Chan changed angles one more time, and you were suddenly crying out with every motion inside you. “Fuck, Channie, that’s so good, don’t stop!”

“I’m not gonna stop, sweetheart.” He grunted, his hands beginning to feel up your chest. “I’m not gonna stop. You feel so good around me, so warm, so nice and tight, fuck.”

You whined, glad you were being good for him.

Eventually Chan’s movements grew animalistic; his thrusts shorter, tighter. “I’m gonna cum, sweetheart.”

“Inside!” You moaned. “Cum inside, Chan, please, please, Chan, please— oh!”

You could feel him cum inside you just as your own orgasm hit, and you twitched through it while Chan collapsed on top of you.

Both of you were drained. Chan unclipped the handcuffs and took them off, and you cuddled under the blanket. “So cold.”

“It is.” Chan wrapped himself around you. “What do you say we take another shower, together, to warm up and clean off?”

You nodded, snuggling into his chest. “Yes, that sounds lovely.”

“That means we actually have to get out of bed, you know.”

You gave a long-suffering sigh. “Fine.”