#the same day i was for the first time paired with a male partner and both of us was very awkward since the only time we have talked was a..

[rodolfoparras]

Say something stupid (like I love you)

Pairing: Male character x Top Male reader

Cw: 18+, non human yandere character, human yandere reader, stalking, obsessing, possessiveness, masturbation, bondage, blood play, spit play, non consensual voyeurism, dubious consent, dom male reader, sub male character

Synopis: After spending so many years looking for the right one for him, he finally finds you or you find him…

When he first met you he hadn’t intended to fall in love, matter of fact he’d long given up on the concept solely because his partners rarely viewed love and relationships in the same way that he did.

Sure they’ve gotten jealous over him but never did they get possessive like he did.

Sure they’ve loved him but never did they get obsessed like he did.

Sure he’d been in committed relationships but never did they allow him to claim them properly.

And because of that he always broke up with them.

It’s love, he tried to explain, the all consuming type that has you tapping into your deepest darkest desires.

His previous lovers didn’t understand it, no one seemed to do, until he met you.

He had observed you through the shadows at first, not wanting to scare you away before he’d even gotten the chance to say hello.

He’d watch you practice in the garden. You were rather skilled with the sword but there were still weak spots in your swordsmanship, windows of opportunity where someone could come and harm you.

From then on he decided that he’d do everything in his power to prevent you from getting hurt, even if that meant secretly watching you from bushes and trees while you practiced with your sword.

He’d sometimes watch you take short walks to town. You didn’t seem to care whether it was day or night, seemingly determined as ever to finish whatever errand you had in mind. But he cared because sure while you knew how to wield a sword, the world you lived in was very unpredictable. You shouldn’t roam around alone so of course he followed wherever you decided to go.

He’d even watch you sleep until dusk turned into dawn through the window you always forget to close. Sometimes you couldn’t fall asleep for whatever reason, so you’d lay in bed, body bare and on full display lazily stroking your dick, grunts and groans tumbling past your lips, as you steadily worked yourself towards your release.

He tried not to look, it would be rather improper of him. He’d instead trail his gaze around your surroundings to make sure no one was watching, no one else but him.

You never noticed him or maybe you did because sometimes you’d throw a look over your shoulder while practicing with your sword as if you could feel someone watching you.

And sometimes you’d take one too many unnecessary trips to town, each time taking a new and unfamiliar path as if wanting to keep him on his toes somehow.

And sometimes while pleasuring yourself, you’d gaze into the open window, right in the spot where he usually hides himself, eyes searching the dark as if you were looking for something or rather someone, as if you were looking for him.

However the most notable thing was that you never seemed to fear him, at least not from what he could see.

There were no goosebumps rising upon your skin whenever you thought someone was watching you at practice, no pulse wildly beating under your skin when he was following you closely, no shaking limbs except for when you inched closer to your release.

He was intrigued.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months and soon enough he decided to make himself known.

When he’d stepped out of the shadows and into the light he’d been intrigued with how much more beautiful you were up close but he’d been more intrigued with how familiar you seemed to be with him.

You didn’t lunge him down to the ground, didn’t bring your sword to his throat, didn’t even try to walk away when he came up to you.

Instead you said his name with a soft smile on your face, pronouncing the string of letters as if you were rather familiar with them, as if you were familiar with him. How you’d found that out, he had no idea.

He was used to an air of caution surrounding his conquests, the other party needing some time before they warmed up to him, maybe two or three dates before they allowed him to steal a kiss but there was no need for that with you.

There was no need for it when you were the one to pull him in for a kiss, a yelp of surprise turning into whimpers and whines, steadily licking into his mouth as if trying to erase any trace of previous conquests, sucking on his tongue and biting on his lips as if trying to devour him, before breaking apart, a string of blood and spit connecting you to him

At that point his conquests usually try to run away. They see the wild look in his eyes, the blood smeared around his mouth and run for the hills.

Instead it seems like you’re trying to prevent him from running away, one hand keeping a vice like grip on his throat, thumb pressing down on his Adam apples til his ears ring and world blurs while the other hand blindly fumbles for the cleft of his ass, fingers brushing over his clothed entrance.

He’d never managed to go as far as to get his conquests into bed yet here you were tying his limbs to the bed posters, using a bit of pre to stretch the tight ring of muscles before sinking into his warm wet heat like you owed it, uncaring of the way he winces and hisses as you set a steady pace with your hips, solely focusing on your pleasure.

You keep your gaze glued to his, like he’d done with you for so many weeks, eyes wide and frantic as if someone would steal him away from you, taking in the tears trickling down his cheeks, the way spit is dribbling down his chin, the way his cock is uselessly slaps against his abdomen while you frantically thrust into him.

And when he thought it was time to leave, feeling absolutely spent and wrung dry, nothing but pathetic spurts of cum spilling from his cock,you had stopped him before he could even get up.

This time you lunged at him, still naked as ever, your hard cock pressing against his thigh while pushing the sharp blade of a knife up against his jugglar.

Right then and there he knew that he loved you

and he knew that you loved him too.

[reilemon]

🍒My Everything🍒

♡︎ synopsis: You didn't plan on celebrating your birthday during undercover mission, but Xavier still wanted to surprise you. A little twist on the 21 Days memory.

♡︎ pairing: Xavier x fem!reader

｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡

♡︎ cw: birthday sex, fingering, oral (both male and female receiving), creampie, multiple orgasms

♡︎ word count: 3.4k

♡︎ a/n: I call myself Zayne girlie yet here I am posting my fourth Xavier fic. Anyways, Sylus is next.

♡︎ requested by @sadfragilegirl ♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this! divider by @cafekitsune

The undercover mission with Xavier has been going smoothly so far. You two put up a convincing act of a young couple in love in front of others, and actually got along well behind closed doors. You didn't want to tell him this, but you were genuinely surprised at how good of a homemaker he is. When you heard about the assignment, you were excited that it's him who's going to be living with you, but at the same time anxious. Xavier is a reliable work partner, but what would he be like as a roommate? So far, you had no complaints and actually were looking forward to coming home back to the apartment you and Xavier temporarily lived in for around three weeks.

As you mindlessly stroll around a grocery store, you reminisce about one more cause of anxiety about the mission - your crush on your coworker and neighbor. You're not sure when it started, but it doesn't matter because you made it your own mission to bury those feelings and hope they disintegrate. For a while you considered acting on it and taking the first step, but then you realized you had a lot to lose if it doesn't work out. And you tried to convince yourself that it was just a small crush, because who wouldn't want someone hot and reliable? Right?

A weary sigh leaves your lips and you turn a corner - Party Supplies. Oh. Right, it's your birthday today. You didn't say anything to Xavier because you didn't want to make him feel obligated to buy you a gift or make something today. You two are on a mission after all, and you can get to celebrate it later when it's over.

You pass the party supplies aisle and head towards the check out. You wonder what kind of concoction Xavier cooked today.

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

Even though you settled on not celebrating your birthday today, you still wanted to treat Xavier, so you bought a cherry pie from a pastry shop that always smells so good and makes your mouth water every time on the way back from 'work'.

As you fiddle with your keys at the doorstep, you catch a whiff of something burning. Probably from the inside. Another sigh leaves your lips. Xavier burnt something again, didn't he?

Light gray smoke greets you as soon as you open the door, your eyes taking a moment to adjust and then you see Xavier frantically fanning a kitchen towel over the counter.

You can clearly see the panic in Xavier's eyes over the slowly dissipating smoke when he notices you coming in. "Ah - ! Welcome home!"

You can't help but laugh a little at the scene, but also be confused a little at his behavior. He's usually calm even when he causes a kitchen fire. "So what are we having for dinner?" You tease.

Xavier's shoulders slump in defeat and puts away the kitchen towel. He turns to you and finally looks at you properly, with a defeated smile "A neighbor made you one of your favorite dishes." He nudges his head towards the dining table. Your gaze follows his and you gasp at how beautifully the table was set, with the meal and your favorite flowers waiting for you.

"Xavier, what - "

"Oh, what's this?"

He approached you to take the bag with the groceries while your attention was on the table.

"Oh, I got us a cherry pie."

He only nods and goes back to the kitchen to unload everything.

You sneak towards the cremated object, "So, if we already had dinner, what was this supposed to be?"

"Uh, nothing. I was just experimenting." Xavier absentmindedly answers as he finishes putting everything away.

After he refuses your offer to help with airing out the apartment, you then excuse yourself to the bathroom to take a quick shower and change into more comfortable clothes.

When you exit the bathroom, the smell of what you assume to be burnt dessert is almost completely gone, and now you can see everything properly. You walk back into the dining area and your eyes land on Xavier waiting for you by the table. You gasp in delight when you see what's in his hands - a cute handmade paper crown in your favorite colors.

"Happy birthday." Xavier says softly and steps towards you, placing the crown on your head. It sits so perfectly that you think he might've taken your measurements.

You look up at him, still in disbelief "How did you - "

"Know when it's your birthday? I told you I looked at your profile." He chuckles at the silly question and turns to pull back your chair, offering you to take a seat.

While eating, you found out that what he burnt was supposed to be a birthday cake he thought you would like, but while it was baking he used that time to set the table and make the crown. He didn't want to make it earlier in case you found it. And then the neighbor came to drop off the meal and of course had to linger and chat and also invite herself over tomorrow.

"So, the groceries I bought today - "

"I didn't need any of that, I just wanted to buy myself more time."

You got used to Xavier's weird grocery shopping lists, that you didn't even question why you were buying ketchup, pesto sauce or sausages. You were so touched by the amount of effort and thoughtfulness he put into your birthday dinner; you were smiling the whole time. That crush is not going away anytime soon.

But you can tell that Xavier was almost like a deflated balloon, hesitantly answering your questions as you put two and two together.

You reach across the table, placing your hand over his. "I love everything you've done today." You reassure him in a comforting voice, "And it kinda worked out that the cake got burned, because then the pie would go to waste."

He nods, and you hope you made him feel a little better. Then, he takes your hand and places a soft peck on top of it, and you could feel your cheeks burning instantly. You hope he doesn't notice it.

He does.

After dinner, Xavier shoos you away from the kitchen, not letting you do any of the house chores on your day. So you go to the living room to unwind and wait for him to join you.

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

"Sorry, I had to take a shower." Xavier finally appears and takes a seat next to you on the sofa. He's wearing sweats (those gray sweatpants!!) and a loose tshirt, his hair still a little damp from washing away the smoke.

"It's okay, I entertained myself." You throw the other half of your blanket over his lap.

"Did you pick out a movie?"

You nod and start playing the movie on the tv. Since you can't go out together as much thanks to the mission, you found ways to pass the time inside your 'new home'. One of them is watching old movies Xavier used to watch years ago.

And about five minutes into the movie, you feel fluffy gray hair tickling you cheek and nose as his head softly drops on your shoulder. You turn your head and of course, Xavier is already dozing off. You smile softly at him - it's only fair to let him rest, so you try to slowly get up and let him lie down on the soft pillows.

With eyes still closed, he lets you snuggle him into the pillows and the blanket, but then his lips form a playful smirk and in one swift motion, he pulls you under the blanket with him, into his arms.

"You can watch the movie like this, right?" He asks as sleepiness overtakes him again, with the crown, barely on your head, poking his cheek.

Your body is stiff against his, and your voice doesn't help hiding how flustered you are "Um, you don't want to go to your room to take a nap?"

"Nope." He mumbles before dozing off.

You adjust to make yourself more comfortable, resting your head on his chest. The movie is rolling, but it doesn't have your attention. All you can focus on is how relaxing Xavier's presence is, with his weird slow heartbeat and soft breathing. His one hand is holding you close by the waist, while the other one found its way on top of yours that's resting on his chest.

All the nervousness about being so close to him slowly melts away, and you drift off to sleep.

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

When your eyes flutter open, Xavier's hand is in full focus as he tenderly caresses your cheek. The moonlight is the only source of light in the room now, and you wonder how long you slept. You prop yourself up a bit to look up at Xavier, but the crown you forgot you still had on slides off over your face, earning an amused laugh from him.

He takes it off for you and sets it on a nearby coffee table. Then he goes back to caressing your cheek.

"Did you sleep well?" He asks.

"Ye - Ow!" Numbness in your arm that was under you makes you grit your teeth and shift on the sofa in search for relief.

"Here." His arms effortlessly move you on top of him, your upper body completely resting on top of his, his legs encasing yours. "Better?" He asks as he grazes soothing circles on the numb arm.

Well you're not sure if it is better because your heart is beating like crazy now that you're on top of him, your faces a breath away. You did cuddle a little before, but you were never this close. So close you're sure he can feel your heartbeat. So you just nod, not trusting your voice.

You two share a moment in silence, gazing at each other’s features, Xavier's fingers still not leaving your face.

"It's a pity your birthday was during an undercover mission. I'll make it up to you when we get back."

You shake your head "This is one of my favorite birthdays actually." He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to elaborate and hoping you're not just humoring him. "I mean, I had a lovely home and a handsome husband waiting for me. He got me beautiful flowers and made sure I had my favorite meal."

A tone of uncertainty covers your voice "Who should I thank for that?"

When met with a puzzled look you elaborate "Should I thank you as my fake husband playing his role, or as my coworker -"

The fingers on your cheek cover your lips, cutting you off. "Just thank me, Xavier." The digits gingerly graze your bottom lip.

You speak softly “Thank you, Xavier.” Butterflies dance in your belly as you mull over the next question. "And -" You swallow thickly before continuing "What am I to you, Xavier?"

He doesn't say anything, instead he timidly pulls you closer by the back of your head, closing what little distance you had between your faces, his soft lips giving yours a chaste kiss. And when you don't pull away, your hand cupping his cheek, he pulls into a deep, hungry kiss, your bodies pressed hard, feeling every twitch of the muscle and pulse of your veins under your skin - and it's impossible to ignore growing bulge pressing your lower belly.

Xavier curses under his breath "Sorry, I - !" his words get lost in his throat when your hand grazes over his length over the clothes, your lips latching back onto his.

He groans and bites your bottom lip when you give it a few more strokes, feeling out his shape.

Fuck, it's thick.

Growing impatient, you tug at the waistband of the sinful gray sweats, and Xavier lifts his hips and pulls them down just enough to free his rock hard dick. You break away from the kiss to not so subtly look down and even under the low lights you can clearly see it. The sight of it makes you unconsciously rub your thighs and your mouth water.

You might've stared a little too long because a chuckle from the man under you pulls you out from your trance. But he doesn't tease you, maybe because it's your birthday, instead he pulls you back into another breathtaking kiss, while your hand wraps around his length, slowly stroking it.

But you need more - and in the next moment you're sliding down, adjusting yourself between his legs.

A few strokes to the base of his cock and your tongue on the leaking tip elicits a moan from Xavier's lips, and you discover that it's your new favorite sound. So you do what you need to do to hear more of it. Your swirl your tongue around the tip, tasting precum and the tender skin, before you take in more of his length, and greedily you take more and more before your nose is pressed on his pelvis, short hairs of his happy trail tickling you. You don't care how your jaw is barely holding on around his girth, his moans is what keeps you going and panties already drenched. All restrain from Xavier dissipates with every lick of your tongue and clenching of your throat around the tip.

"Fuck, you're doing so good."

His hips start moving faster than your rhythm, his hand on your head holding you in place. Under the hand that's holding you for balance, you can feel his thigh muscles tremble, and you can feel his cock throb in your mouth.

"I'm gonna cum, princess." He gives you the warning, and loosens his grip on your head, but you take it all in, needing to taste him. And in few shallow thrusts, you're tasting and swallowing his cum, not letting a drop go to waste.

You barely catch your breath before Xavier lifts you up and locks his lips with yours, tongue licking your lips and tongue, tasting himself. Then he switches the positions with you, and now you're on your back, stripped of your pants and underwear, Xavier's lips locked with yours and his middle finger sliding between your wet folds. You moan into the kiss as the finger slides into your entrance, quickly followed by a second one. Your hips start moving to meet the pace, the digits hitting all the right spots and your release already building up. Then his thumb presses your clit that was begging for attention, eliciting a yelp from you making Xavier smile against your lips before continuing kissing you. In a few more pumps of his fingers against your sweet spot, you're a panting mess as you cum around them.

When you come down from your high, he brings up those soaked fingers to his lips and licks them, the sight making you blush. His dick twitches in his underwear as he gets a taste of your essence. He needs more.

Before you can even protest about how you're wet enough, he pushes your legs further up against your torso, his face already between them, his breath fanning against your pussy spreading goosebumps all over your skin. The only thing that stopped him from latching onto your pretty pussy is his need to take in the sight of it for the first time.

You cover your face with your hands, too self-conscious about the close up he's getting, even if there's no lights in here. "Xavier..." You whine and move your hips as much as you can under his grasp.

He chuckles at your cute reaction and whispers how perfect you are, then he finally presses his tongue flat against your glistening folds, and your embarrassment melts away. One hand moves from the back of your thigh under your shirt, fondling your breast and playing with your hard nipple until you're squirming from over-sensitivity and he moves to the other one. His lips latch onto your sensitive nub, swirling his tongue around it, sucking and lapping at it, while his other hand finds its way back into your entrance, two fingers easily slipping in and finding the spots that make you moan and buck your hips.

"Just like that - " You breathe, raking your fingers through his hair and holding onto it, while your other hand grabs onto the arm rest behind you, anchoring yourself as Xavier's tongue and fingers stimulate you at just the right pace and you cry out when another orgasm courses through your body.

Xavier soothingly massages your breast and peppers your inner thighs with kisses as you catch your breath.

You hear him ask against your plush thigh "One more?"

Your eyes open and meet his half lidded gaze. You shake your head and grab his wrist "Just fuck me, please."

He was already on edge of another orgasm from just eating you out, and your breathy plea made him so dangerously closer. He positions himself on top of you and pulling down his underwear that now has a big wet spot from his leaking tip. You watch as he positions his cock against your pussy until you hear his soft voice

"Look me in the eyes, honey."

And you lock your gaze with his, eyes barely staying open as the swollen tip slides inside. With languid thrusts, his cock is buried to the hilt and now Xavier needs to anchor himself - he rests on his elbow, burying his face in the crook of your neck, licking and nipping sensitive skin. His other hand finds yours and holds it tight, interlocking fingers and resting it next to your head.

His thrust are deep and hard, his pelvis grazing your clit, making your cunt throb and squeeze around him, making his movements falter. With a strained voice he breathes against your neck "Gonna cum on my cock?"

You nod as you clench around him more when you hear his voice and see his face as he comes up to lock eyes with you and you grab him by the back of his neck, pulling him into a sloppy open mouthed kiss.

You squeeze his hand and lock your legs around his hips as they roll at the right angle.

"I'm so close, honey." He rasps.

And you are seconds away from your third orgasm, your pussy already spasming. "Need you - haah - inside -!"

You open your mouth in a silent cry his dick throbs in your already pulsing creaming cunt, filling it with hot cum. The two of you moan and grunt, erratically moving your hips, riding out each other's high.

With shaky breaths, you slowly calm down and open your eyes.

The two of you can't help but laugh a little when you see each other's blissed out faces. Xavier gives the hand he's still holding a kiss. Your other hand presses on his back to press you completely against him, needing to feel his whole weight on you.

"I'm not crushing you?" he asks as his face is nuzzled against your neck.

You gently stroke his now messy hair. "No let's stay like this for a while."

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

After cleaning up the mess on the sofa and showering, you're back in the dining room with the cherry pie on the table. Xavier put the candles on it and the princess crown back on your head. You're about to sit on Xavier's lap and then light the candles but then you remember something.

"Shoot, I almost forgot!"

Confused, Xavier watches you as you hurry out in the dining room. Your phone and the lighter are here, so he can't guess what you would need.

You come back with a giddy smile on your face as you hold something behind your back.

"Something for me?" he asks, amused at your expression.

"Yes, but it doesn't look that good because I had to make it quickly." You then reveal a handmade prince crown.

Xavier's eyes widen "When did you -?"

"I guess you forgot to clean up the living room after making mine, so I just scrambled something while you were showering."

Left speechless at your sweet gesture, his eyes switch between gazing at you and the crown.

You feel a little embarrassed at your craftsmanship because it looks poorly made compared to the one he made for you. "Okay, you looked at it enough. I'll make you a better one later."

He chuckles as you place it on his head and sit on his lap. He kisses your hand and then your lips "Thank you, I love it."

After lighting the candles, you close your eyes and make a wish.

[kingofbodyrolls]

Deep Dive (m) | knj

You’ve been searching for gemstones deep on the seabed— having found a broken piece of blue aquamarine. Searching for the missing piece and your new rival, you find it and much more with the blue tailed merman Namjoon while on a quest for crystals.

→ Pairing: namjoon x reader (female) → AUs: mermaid!au, fantasy!au, magical!au, soulmate!au → Trope: strangers to lovers → Genres: fluff, smut, angst + a very small sprinkle of comedy → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 19.8k → Warnings (general) + triggers: not much, honestly it’s all very very fluffy, lovey dovey and cute (you’ll probably get a cavity). There’s also a lot more lore and worldbuilding in this one compared to the others, as this is the first time we’re properly introduced to the seacity🧜It’s also rather existential and philosophical.  → Warnings (explicit): unprotected sex (please be safe), oral (male and female), multiple orgasms, dirty talk, love making, kissing, breast play (licking, sucking, biting), handjob, fingering, clit play, hair pulling, creampie, very brief cockwarming. → Read on AO3? [link] → Author’s note(1): I really don’t know what happened when writing this one; my fingers totally slipped and most of this is just world building 🫣 At least I had a shit ton of fun writing it! I tried to make the smut a bit different than I normally do, because I just feel like what I write is getting very repetitive… So I tried changing the pace of it a bit, but I don't know if it worked or not. Anyway, I really hope you like this one too, and I managed to finish it before Namjoon’s birthday, which means I’ll release it on that day 🥳 Please do let me know what, and if you liked it, and if you’re excited for the rest of the mermaid stories ✨

[s.masterlist] → this is part of a collection of series that are stand-alone one-shots, but all of them are set in the same universe. They are slightly connected though 🤭

The boat sways gently with the rhythm of the waves, each crest and trough sending a flutter through your stomach, a tantalizing whisper of the adventure awaiting below. The sea has always been your muse, its vast, enigmatic depths a sanctuary where you’ve carved out your own livelihood. As a freelance scuba diver, you descend into the ocean’s embrace, hunting for hidden treasures—crystals and gems, and occasionally, the rarest of finds. These treasures are not just artifacts; they are fragments of the earth’s ancient soul, preserved in the watery depths.

Hae, your best friend and partner in this aquatic quest, stands beside you, her hands steady as she helps you prepare for the dive. She runs a holistic and spiritual webshop called Soulful, a name that seems to capture the essence of her being—a blend of spirituality, sustainability, and an eye for the aesthetically divine. The gems and crystals you unearth find their way into her shop, where they are revered not just for their beauty, but for the energy they carry. The world has turned its gaze towards the mystical these days, and her shop has become a beacon for those seeking solace and healing in the arms of nature.

With your wetsuit snug against your skin, fins secured, and the weight of the oxygen tanks settling on your back, you feel the familiar thrill course through you. Hae hands you your goggles with a smile, and before placing the mouthpiece between your lips, you flash her a grin. “See you soon,” you say, voice laced with excitement. The small tool bag—your fanny pack of excavation tools—rests comfortably at your side, ready to assist in your quest for nature’s buried wonders.

You take a deep breath and plunge into the ocean, the water swallowing you with a resonant splash. As you breach the surface, your arms stretch forward, parting the water with a smooth, practiced motion. The ocean welcomes you, wrapping you in its cool, serene embrace. Here, beneath the waves, you are home, surrounded by the vibrant tapestry of sea life. Jellyfish drift by, their tendrils trailing like delicate threads of silk, while schools of tiny fish scatter at your approach, shimmering in the filtered sunlight that dances through the water. Deeper you dive, into the world where time slows, and the ocean whispers secrets long forgotten by the surface. The seafloor is a hidden gallery of nature’s artistry, where crystals and gems lie in wait, forged over eons by the earth’s elemental forces. Each one tells a story—of undersea volcanoes, tectonic pressures, and the alchemical dance of minerals. Hae often speaks of these gems as if they are living beings, infused with the spirit of the ocean itself, each one a relic of the deep’s quiet, patient creation.

You smile to yourself, recalling her poetic musings, almost as if you were reading straight from her website. But you know the truth behind the beauty—these crystals, formed through evaporation, precipitation, and the intricate dance of minerals, are more than just pretty stones. They are pieces of the earth’s heart, shaped by the hands of time and nature’s immense power. Sodium, magnesium, calcium, potassium—their chemical symphony plays out in each crystal, each gem a unique testament to the forces that birthed it.

To you, they are not just beautiful—they are a testament to the majesty of the natural world, a tangible link to the planet’s deep, unspoken history. Hae’s customers, too, are drawn to this connection, to the knowledge that each crystal was not mined en masse, but discovered and unearthed by your hands alone. This makes each piece not only ethically sourced but also one-of-a-kind, carrying with it a story that can never be replicated. And then, there’s the healing. The myriad of spiritual properties attributed to these gems opens another world entirely, one that you and Hae have only begun to explore. It’s a world where science and spirituality entwine, where the physical and the metaphysical dance in harmony. But for now, as you dive deeper into the ocean’s embrace, you’re content to simply marvel at nature’s handiwork, knowing that whatever treasures you find will carry a piece of this underwater realm back to the surface.

A glint catches your eye in the distance, a shimmer that pulls you deeper into the ocean’s embrace. You’ve lost track of how far you’ve dived—perhaps just a few meters, or maybe more. Time seems to stretch and compress down here, as fluid as the water around you. A quick glance at your watch reveals that only ten minutes have passed, but you know you must be mindful of the oxygen left in your tank. Still, the ocean’s siren call urges you onward, tempting you with secrets yet to be unveiled.

Something blue sparkles ahead, its brilliance cutting through the murky depths, and you find yourself drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Your body moves with the fluidity of the water, each motion a dance of instinct and harmony. Down here, you’re not just an explorer—you’re a part of the ocean itself, swaying gently in time with the currents. The source of the light reveals itself as you approach a small rock formation, where gems of varying shades of blue glisten like forgotten stars scattered across the ocean floor. Aquamarine, calcite, and amazonite—Hae’s voice echoes in your mind, recalling the knowledge she’s shared with you. Aquamarine, the “Sea Water Stone,” born from the cooling magma of the earth’s depths, its color an echo of the ocean’s own hues. It’s a stone that calms the mind, eases stress, and sharpens communication, a talisman of courage and clarity. Blue calcite, a crystal forged from calcium, carbon, and oxygen, soothes like a lullaby, its gentle presence calming nerves and quieting anxieties. It also opens the mind’s eye, enhancing intuition and inner vision. And then there’s amazonite, a gem you’ve always favored. Its cool blue-green tones speak to your soul, a “Stone of Courage” that promotes truth, honor, and positive communication. It balances the masculine and feminine energies within, weaving harmony into the fabric of life. You reach out, your fingers brushing the rough texture of the rock, marveling at the beauty before you.

Carefully, you pull out your tools—a smooth flat file and a soft silicone hammer—and begin to work. The gems yield to your skillful hands, and soon, you’ve gathered a small collection of aquamarine, blue calcite, and amazonite, each piece a perfect reflection of the ocean’s quiet majesty. You tuck them safely into your bag, their weight a comforting presence at your side.

But the ocean isn’t done with you yet. You swim further, your eyes scanning the seabed where kelp and other sea plants sway like ethereal dancers. A small cave catches your attention, its entrance barely large enough to accommodate you, but you’re compelled to explore. You squeeze through the narrow opening, and the sight that greets you steals your breath away.

Before you lies a treasure trove of green crystals, their surfaces shimmering like serpent scales. Serpentine—Hae has spoken of this gem, formed deep within the Earth’s mantle by the transformation of silicate minerals through water. This is your first time finding it, and you can’t help but marvel at its beauty, the green hues reminiscent of a forest hidden beneath the waves. You run your fingers over the rough surface, feeling the ancient energy thrumming within the stone. Carefully, you chip away a few pieces, their weight adding to the growing collection in your bag.

But the bag is heavy now, laden with the ocean’s gifts, and a glance at your watch tells you it’s time to return. With a reluctant sigh, you leave the cave behind, swimming back toward the surface, your heart still lingering in the depths. As you break through the water, the sunlight dazzles your eyes, and Hae is there, her hands reaching out to help you back onto the boat. The weight of your gear is a burden you’re glad to shed, and you push the bag toward her, eager to share your discoveries.

“Wow!” she exclaims, her eyes wide with wonder as she sifts through the gems. “You really found a lot—and serpentine? You’ve never found that before. My customers are going to be over the moon!”

Her excitement is infectious, and you can’t help but smile. “That makes it all worth it,” you say, pulling off your hydro fin shoes with a satisfied sigh. “But I’m keeping one piece of serpentine for myself—it’s too beautiful to part with.”

Hae nods, still mesmerized by the treasures you’ve brought to the surface. The joy in her eyes is a reflection of your own, and you feel a deep contentment settle over you. The ocean has shared its secrets with you once again, and as you breathe in the fresh air, you know that the bond you share with the sea is stronger than ever.

You sail home under the setting sun, the ocean’s breeze carrying with it the scent of salt and adventure. The rhythmic lapping of the waves against the boat lulls you into a state of serene satisfaction. Back on land, you join Hae in her cozy apartment, where the warmth of the evening light filters through the windows. Her small photo studio, a creative sanctuary tucked into a corner, is ready for the treasures you’ve unearthed. Together, you arrange the crystals with care, each one glistening like a piece of the ocean’s soul captured in stone. The camera clicks, preserving the gems’ beauty for the world to see, as Hae’s artistic eye transforms them into visions of wonder. The process is swift but meaningful, a quiet ritual that binds your shared passions. Soon, the crystals will grace her webshop, ready to bring a touch of the sea’s magic to those who seek it.

“This collection is huge, Namjoon,” Hoseok remarks with a warm smile, his gaze sweeping over the shimmering array of gems that adorn the older merman’s room. “There’s so much history embedded in these walls,” he adds, pointing to the meticulously arranged stones, and Namjoon feels a flush of pride rise to his cheeks. He’s poured countless hours into curating this collection, each gem—some calcite, larimar, jasper, peridotite, amazonite, and serpentine—bearing the weight of time and the ocean’s secrets.

Yoongi casts a sidelong glance at Namjoon and his prized collection, murmuring with a wry grin, “It’s impressive... but also incredibly dorky.”

Hoseok bursts into laughter, his joy so radiant that for a moment, Namjoon thinks they don’t need the sun in their underwater world—Hoseok’s light is enough to illuminate the depths.

“I’m not a dork,” Namjoon protests, crossing his arms over his bare torso in an attempt to feign indignation, but his stern expression does little to sway the younger mermen. Their laughter echoes through the water, a melody of friendship that only strengthens the bond between them.

“Nerd, then,” Hoseok offers through another burst of laughter, his voice rippling through the water like bubbles rising to the surface. Yoongi, ever the skeptic, merely rolls his eyes, already weary of the conversation. Namjoon can sense that Yoongi’s thoughts have drifted elsewhere—likely back to his bed, where he longs to sleep away the rest of the day. But Namjoon’s heart beats with a different rhythm, one that craves adventure. He usually embarks on treasure swims with his friend Soo-ah, but she’s preoccupied with her fiancé, Seokjin, as they prepare for their upcoming wedding.

Namjoon casts a glance at his friends, hoping they’ll soon take their leave so he can slip away into the inviting embrace of the sea. The room feels too small for his restless spirit, and the ocean beyond the walls calls to him like a siren’s song. He had initially invited them over for their monthly book club, but the gathering has devolved into something else entirely—Hoseok couldn’t stop laughing at the protagonist’s ridiculous misadventures, and Yoongi, true to form, had forgotten to read the book altogether. The story, plucked from the land above, strikes Hoseok as particularly odd and amusing, especially since he’s never set foot on land himself.

“Book club’s over, right?” Yoongi asks with a resigned sigh, his voice heavy with fatigue, as if the very mention of reading has drained him further.

“Yeah, but do try to read the next book for next month,” Namjoon chides gently, though he knows his words will likely fall on deaf ears. Yoongi merely shrugs, not even bothering to pick up the worn book as he drifts toward the door. Namjoon watches them go, rolling his eyes as Hoseok flashes him a soft smile and a thumbs-up before they swim off to their respective homes.

As their laughter fades into the distance, Namjoon finally feels the freedom to pursue the adventure that has been stirring within him all day. The sea awaits, vast and full of mysteries, and he is eager to explore its depths once more.

Namjoon exhales a deep sigh, the weight of his thoughts momentarily heavy, but he renews his energy by nibbling on some fresh kelp. The taste is crisp and briny, filling him with the vitality he needs for the journey ahead. With a determined glint in his eye, he slings his backpack over his shoulder and sets off on his adventure. The sea has always been his home, its vast expanse a comforting embrace. His parents, both scholars dedicated to preserving the rich history of their underwater city, have instilled in him a love for the past. But while they focus on teaching the young minds of the city, Namjoon’s heart has always been drawn to the secrets hidden within the earth—gems and stones that hold their own silent histories.

He propels himself forward, his baby blue tail cutting through the water with graceful precision. As he gathers speed, the fish scatter in a dazzling display, their scales catching the light as they dart away. The underwater world rushes past in a vibrant blur of color, until something shimmering in the distance catches his eye.

Ahead, perched on a rock formation, are gleaming clusters of calcite and aquamarine, their surfaces dancing with the light that filters through the water. The sun’s rays, fractured by the waves above, cast a spectrum of blues across the gems, making them shimmer like the sky at twilight. Namjoon’s breath catches in his throat, as it always does when faced with such natural beauty. Each gem is a masterpiece of time and pressure, a testament to the earth’s patient artistry. He reaches out, reverently running his fingers over the cool, smooth surfaces, feeling the ancient energy thrumming within them.

He pulls out his tools, careful not to disturb the surrounding environment, and begins to collect a few of the precious stones. As he works, he remembers Soo-ah and selects a particularly radiant piece to bring back to her, a token of their shared love for the ocean’s treasures.

But his heart skips a beat when he notices something unsettling—many of the gems have already been harvested, leaving only a few scattered remnants behind. A frown creases his brow as he wonders who could have beaten him to this spot. None of his friends share his passion for collecting gems. Sure, Taehyung enjoys gathering trinkets and curiosities, but stones have never been his interest. The thought of another collector in these waters feels strangely alien, a mystery that tugs at the edges of his mind.

Who else, he wonders, could be drawn to these underwater treasures with the same fervor that drives him?

You find yourself submerged once more, the embrace of the ocean welcoming you into its depths as you embark on yet another treasure hunt, eager to unearth new crystals. Your path leads you back to the familiar cave where you previously discovered the serpentine and calcite, their beauty still vivid in your memory. Yet, something feels different this time—there are fewer crystals adorning the rock formation and scattered across the seabed. The ocean’s depths, a canvas for nature’s exquisite artistry, have always been a sanctuary for the many fascinating crystals that dwell there. But you’ve never encountered another diver who collects them as passionately as you do. The realization leaves you momentarily puzzled, until a flicker of purple catches your eye in the distance.

Intrigued, you glide through the water with graceful urgency, approaching the new discovery. As you draw closer, you recognize the delicate gray and rose-hued crystals as lepidolite, known for its ability to enhance astral travel and lucid dreaming. You’ve rarely come across these gems in your dives, and even now, only a few precious stones cling to the rock formation. Carefully, you retrieve your tools and begin to collect the lepidolite, tucking each piece into your bag with a sense of reverence.

Continuing along the seabed, you pass by schools of vibrant fish, their colors a blur of life around you, until something extraordinary catches your attention—massive aquamarine crystals, far larger than any you’ve ever seen before. They seem to pulse with a quiet energy, drawing you in with their mesmerizing blue hue. As you approach with a gentle hand, you feel an inexplicable connection to the gems, as if they are whispering tales of the ocean’s mysteries and the magnificence of the world beneath the waves.

Gingerly, you touch the aquamarines, and a surge of calm washes over you, a tranquility deeper than anything you’ve ever experienced. The sensation is strange, yet profoundly soothing, as if the ocean itself is sharing its serenity with you. 

Taking your time, you inspect the crystals, standing tall on a rocky pedestal surrounded by pink sea bushes and kelp that sways in the water’s current. A few curious fish glide by as you carefully chip away at the base of the crystal, hoping to extract a substantial piece. When you finally succeed, you notice something peculiar—the crystal’s twin, the piece that once stood beside it, is missing. The jagged edge where it was removed is unmistakable. The question lingers in your mind, unsettling and persistent: Who has taken the other piece?

As you wonder who else might be drawn to the allure of these hidden gems, your hands continue their careful work, collecting a few more of the larger pieces, along with several smaller ones. You know that the smaller stones, though modest in size, still carry the same potent energy as their grander counterparts, and some people cherish them all the more for their delicate beauty. Each crystal, whether large or small, holds within it the ocean’s quiet wisdom, waiting to be shared.

Gently, you tuck the treasures into your bag, the weight of them a comforting reminder of the sea’s generosity. With a final, lingering glance at the shimmering aquamarines, you propel yourself upward, your body moving effortlessly through the water’s embrace. As you break through the surface, the world above greets you with a rush of air and sunlight. Hae is there, her arms open wide, her smile as warm as the sun. She helps you back into the boat, her touch gentle and reassuring, as if she understands the wonders you’ve just encountered below.

Once you’re back in the boat, the weight of your gear feels heavier than ever as you remove it, but your heart is light with the excitement of your discoveries. You eagerly reveal your treasures to Hae, each crystal glinting in the sunlight as you lay them before her. With a grin, you hold up the largest aquamarine, its cool blue depths mirroring the ocean below. “This one’s mine,” you declare, the gem feeling like a piece of the sea itself in your hand. But then your tone grows more serious as you add, “I think there’s another diver out there collecting gems. So many were missing from the formation.”

Hae’s eyes widen, her smile fading into a look of concern. You can almost see the wheels turning in her mind, already strategizing, perhaps even considering whether it’s time to move to a new, more secluded spot. The thought of competition makes her uneasy, her gaze drifting over the precious stones as if they might vanish any moment.

Sensing her anxiety, you place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry,” you say with quiet confidence. “I’ll dig around, find out who it is. We’ve come too far to let this unsettle us.” Your words are meant to calm her, to remind her that together, you’ve weathered challenges before. After all, her webshop, with its unique blend of spirituality and sustainability, has always stood out in a sea of imitators.

Hae exhales softly, her tension easing as she meets your gaze. “Okay, thank you,” she murmurs, her hands gently gathering the remaining crystals, leaving you with your cherished aquamarine. The stone gleams in your palm, a symbol of the bond between you and the sea, and now, a silent vow to protect what you’ve both worked so hard to build.

The pull of the ocean is undeniable, a quiet voice in the depths of your soul that beckons you toward the gem, as if it carries the very essence of the sea within its crystalline heart. You know instantly that this piece belongs by your side, a reminder of the ocean’s mysteries and your bond with its vast, hidden world. The sun dips below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the water as you sail back to shore, the quiet lapping of waves a soothing lullaby.

Returning to your apartment, you flick on the light, the familiar space bathed in a soft glow as you carefully place your ocean gift on the nightstand beside your bed. The gem catches the light, its surface shimmering like the sea at dawn. With a contented sigh, you brush your teeth, the routine grounding you after the day’s adventure. But as you lay in bed, your mind drifts back to the ocean, and sleep comes quickly, filled with dreams of underwater realms and the treasures that lie beneath.

Yet, even in sleep, a question nags at you. For days, the mystery has lingered in your thoughts—who could be venturing into the depths to collect gems alongside you? Your research has led you nowhere, each inquiry a dead end. No diver you know is as daring, or perhaps as mad, as you, willing to plunge into the ocean’s deepest reaches. The puzzle gnaws at you, an itch you can’t quite scratch, and the frustration builds like a storm on the horizon. It feels as if the answer is just out of reach, hidden beneath the waves, and the more you dwell on it, the more it drives you to the edge of your patience, a riddle you are desperate to unravel.

Driven by a spark of determination, you’ve hatched a bold plan—to dive back into the depths and catch the mysterious intruder who’s been claiming your precious gems. Hae thinks it’s a dumb idea, but she indulges you, knowing your spirit is as restless as the ocean itself. And so, once again, you find yourself out on the boat, with Hae in the vast expanse of the ocean under the midday sun. The boat sways gently, a rhythmic dance on the water’s surface as you methodically pull on your gear—your oxygen tanks, goggles, and hydro fins. The final touch is your backpack, securely fastened to the tank, ready to hold whatever treasures you might uncover.

With purpose in your heart and a steely resolve, you press your arms together and plunge into the ocean’s embrace. The world above fades away as you descend into the deep, your body slicing through the water with graceful determination. Thoughts of the smaller boats you saw earlier linger in your mind, fueling your hope that this dive will lead you to your elusive rival.

As you dive deeper, the current cradles you, guiding your body as you sway with the ocean’s rhythm, until you reach the seabed. The familiar terrain unfolds before you, a place you’ve visited many times, yet now it feels different, touched by the presence of another. Only a few small gems remain, their glint a reminder of what’s been taken. You scan your surroundings—kelp sways like dancers in the current, fish dart about in a symphony of colors—but no sign of competition yet.

Undeterred, you press on, swimming further along the seabed, following the contours of rocky formations. Your heart quickens as you reach a familiar spot, the place where you once unearthed a magnificent aquamarine. But as you approach, your breath catches—the rock’s surface is nearly barren, the aquamarine all but vanished, save for a few remaining shards that catch the light. Your fingers hover over the stone, tracing the empty space where the gems once gleamed, now a haunting reminder of what’s been lost to unseen hands.

A sudden jolt, like a spark of electricity, tingles through your fingertips, and before you can react, a blur of blue fills your vision, distorting the world around you. You blink rapidly, trying to clear the haze, but it remains—an ethereal presence in the water. Then, you feel a light, almost playful poke against your cheek, and a startled scream escapes into your mouthpiece, sending a cascade of bubbles spiraling upwards.

Instinctively, you jerk backward, heart pounding, as you struggle to comprehend what’s before you. No—this can’t be real. It’s not another diver. It’s not even human.

In front of you, suspended in the water like a living dream, is a merman. His face, heart-shaped and adorned with eyes like dragon-like darkened amber, is framed by short, blue hair that floats gently around his soft cheeks, jawline and pointed chin. Thin soft eyebrows arch over those wide, curious eyes—eyes that seem to hold all the wonder of the deep. His lips, thick and juicy are slightly parted in a soft ‘o,’ convey a mix of curiosity and surprise. Your gaze travels over his tall frame down to his bare chest, lean and strong, and then to the tail—an iridescent baby blue, shimmering with every subtle movement, a perfect extension of the ocean’s beauty. 

A wiggling tail instead of legs.

You blink again, desperate to make sense of the vision before you. A merman… It has to be.

He drifts closer, his tail flicking gracefully as he reaches out to poke your chin once more, his voice resonating through the water with an almost melodic quality. “Are you human?” he asks, his tone gentle yet filled with the wonder of a child discovering something new.

Your mind races, and you nod frantically, unable to speak with the mouthpiece still in your mouth, your feet paddling in the water as you fight to steady yourself. The reality of the moment crashes over you like a wave—this is no fantasy. A merman is right in front of you.

As your gaze falls on the backpack strapped to his shoulders, you notice a subtle shimmer, a gleam of something precious. In that instant, the pieces fall into place—he’s the one. He’s the mysterious collector, your unexpected rival in this underwater hunt for gems.

“I’ve seen humans before,” he continues, his voice carrying an almost casual tone as he swims around you, studying you like a creature from another world, “but I’ve never seen one dressed like you.”

Your heart aches to respond, to ask a million questions, but with the mouthpiece in place, all you can do is let him circle you, his eyes filled with an innocent fascination. The silence between you is heavy with unspoken words, each glance exchanged like a whispered secret between the ocean and the sun.

As you take in the sight before you, your eyes are drawn to a necklace resting against his chest, the small piece of aquamarine nestled between the firm contours of his titties—chest, you mean chest! The gem, cradled in the hollow where his muscles meet, glimmers softly, almost as if it’s alive with the very essence of the sea. You can’t help but stare in awe, the allure of it tugging at something deep within you. Thank heavens for your goggles, masking the blush that would otherwise give away your wandering thoughts.

“You look funny,” he remarks, his voice laced with innocent curiosity as he reaches out to grab one of your hydro fin shoes. The unexpected touch throws you off balance, and for a moment, you find yourself flipping weightlessly in the water, your body twisting like a leaf caught in a gentle current.

“Is this supposed to be like a mermaid’s tail?” he asks, holding your foot aloft as though it were some ancient relic to be deciphered. His brow furrows in concentration, and you can’t help but feel a mix of amusement and bewilderment at the sight.

Instinctively, you jerk your foot back, breaking free from his grasp, and you push against the water with frantic kicks, a glance at your watch reminding you that time is running out. As much as you wish to linger here, captivated by the merman’s presence, the pressing need to return to the surface propels you upward.

“Hey! Where’re you going?” he calls after you, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation, but you’re already too focused on reaching the surface to notice the distress in his expression. The thought of what could happen if you don’t make it in time isn’t one you’re willing to entertain.

Breaking through the water’s surface, you take off the mouthpiece and  gulp in fresh air, scanning the horizon until you spot your boat, a distant speck where Hae waits, the other vessels having long since disappeared. It seems manageable, this swim back to the boat, as long as you stay above water—your oxygen tank now empty, its weight a reminder of how close you cut it.

But before you can begin the swim, something solid collides with you, stopping you in your tracks. “Ow,” you exclaim, startled as you float backward, only to find yourself face to face with a familiar figure, his blue hair dripping wet above the waves.

“Hi,” the merman says with a smile, his dimples appearing like little pools of light in the sun. The simple word carries a warmth that catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re lost in the easy charm of his grin, the ocean around you feeling suddenly smaller, as if it were just the two of you in this vast, endless world.

“Hi,” you greet him with a soft smile, still astonished that he followed you to the surface at all. A swirl of unspoken questions rises in your chest, but they tangle in your throat, leaving you staring at him, wide-eyed and speechless. The world seems to blur, save for the merman before you, his wet blue hair plastered against his forehead, his dragon-like eyes sweeping over you with a curious intensity, as if he’s memorizing every detail.

“What’s all that stuff you’ve got on?” he asks, pointing a slender finger at your goggles and then at the oxygen tanks strapped securely to your back.

“These?” you say, finding your voice as you point to your goggles. “They help me see underwater,” you pause, feeling the weight of the tanks pulling at your shoulders, “And these let me breathe while I dive—they hold the oxygen I need when I’m down there.” You gesture to the tanks behind you, your explanation feeling small in the face of his wide, unblinking curiosity.

He hums thoughtfully, nodding as if piecing together a puzzle. “Makes sense,” he says at last, though his gaze strays past you, catching sight of Hae waving from the boat that rocks gently on the surface, her silhouette framed by the scorching sun.

“I... I have to get back,” you mumble, pointing toward your friend, the words feeling heavy as they leave your lips. You try to steady your thoughts, but they swirl like the currents beneath the sea, a thousand questions dancing just beneath the surface, questions you don’t quite dare to voice.

“Okay,” he says, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—hesitation, perhaps. “But before you go…” His voice halts your movements, drawing you back to him like the pull of the tide. You turn toward him again, heart fluttering in the quiet space between you, as if the ocean itself is holding its breath, waiting to see what comes next.

“What’s your name?” His voice is soft, carrying a gentleness that ripples through the water.

“It’s ___,” you reply, offering him a smile that’s both shy and warm.

“That’s pretty,” he says, and when his lips part into a smile, his dimples carve deep into his cheeks, making him almost impossibly cute, but dangerously so. 

“I’m Namjoon.” 

His name lingers between you like a secret, sweet and mysterious. “Will I see you again?” he asks, tilting his head slightly, his brow raised in curious hope.

You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face, the warmth filling your chest. There’s something about him—this enchanting creature of the deep—that makes you feel drawn in, like the tide itself is pulling you closer. You nod, the joy bubbling up inside you as you answer, “See you later, Namjoon.” There’s more than one reason you want to see him again. The unspoken questions whirl in your mind, but there’s also the thrill—because maybe, just maybe, you want to get your hands on the best crystals before he does.

As you turn and swim back toward Hae, your thoughts a mess of wonder and disbelief, a blush warms your cheeks. Did you just make a date with a merman? The thought sends a tingle of excitement through you. But when you glance back to where he was, Namjoon is already gone, having disappeared beneath the shimmering surface, like a dream fading with the dawn.

You finally make it to the boat, the sun still hanging high, bathing everything in golden light. As Hae helps you out of the water and hands you a towel, her eyes are wide with confusion. “Who was that? And how did he just vanish into the water like that, without any diving gear?”

“A merman,” you pant, peeling off your oxygen tanks and goggles. The words slip out of your mouth so naturally, like it’s something you’d say every day. Not the revelation of a magical creature, but a simple truth.

Hae stares at you, eyes nearly bulging from their sockets. “I’m sorry, what?”

“A merman,” you repeat, more firmly this time.

“A merman?” she echoes, her voice faint and incredulous, as if the very idea is too fantastical to grasp.

“Yes. A goddamn merman,” you say, grinning wide as you meet her disbelieving gaze. “Scaly tail and all.” And then the absurdity of it all hits you, and before you know it, you’re laughing—a bright, bubbling sound that lifts the tension from your chest.

Hae blinks, her mind racing to catch up with the truth you’ve laid before her. When she finally does, her gaze shifts to the shimmering crystals you’ve collected, and without another word, she turns the boat towards home, lost in thought as the ocean waves lap against the sides. And all you can do is sit there, the excitement of your encounter buzzing through your veins, as you wonder about the next time you’ll meet Namjoon beneath the waves.

The next time you set sail, the open sea stretching endlessly before you, a current of giddy anticipation courses through your veins. Thoughts of the blue-haired merman, Namjoon, fill your mind, sparking excitement deep within your chest. Will he be there today, waiting beneath the waves? You wish you could speak with him underwater, to ask him the thousand questions swirling in your heart, but the surface would have to do for now. You can’t help but smile at the thought of seeing him again.

Hae steers the boat through the shimmering water, the horizon vast and infinite. As you slip on your gear and dive beneath the surface, the ocean’s cool embrace pulls you into its depths. You swim purposefully, eyes scanning the underwater world, searching for both gems and a glimpse of Namjoon. 

Suddenly, something blue catches your eye, sparkling in the distance. Your pulse quickens as you think, just for a moment, that it might be him. But as you swim closer, your heart sinks—it’s only a cluster of aquamarine, glittering like pieces of fallen sky. You feel a bit foolish, letting your hopes get the better of you. Shaking off the disappointment, you turn your attention to the task at hand, collecting the gems with careful precision, though your thoughts continue to drift back to the mysterious merman.

You move to a new spot, finding a hidden cave adorned with larimar crystals. The stones are breathtaking—swirls of blue, white, and gray blending like waves crashing upon a shore, smooth and radiant. The sight brings a smile to your face, the beauty of the moment settling into your heart. You gently gather some of the crystals, placing them in your bag with reverence, as if each one carries a secret.

Just as you’re about to leave the cave, a shadow falls across the entrance. Your heart skips a beat, startled by the sudden presence. But then, the familiar voice reaches your ears, warm and apologetic, and you see him—Namjoon, his figure filling the space, his smile soft and full of quiet charm.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, his hand nervously scratching the back of his head, his eyes filled with a gentle sincerity.

Relief washes over you, and with a playful wave of your hands, you signal that it’s okay—that he needn’t worry. How you wish you could speak to him down here, let your words float freely in the water like the bubbles escaping from your gear. But for now, your gestures will have to suffice. Your smile says the rest—you’re just glad to see him again.

“You’re collecting crystals, right?” Namjoon asks, his voice cutting through the liquid silence as he gestures toward your already bulging bag. You nod in response, still catching your breath from the weight of the gems you’ve gathered.

“Do you want me to show you a cave with lepidolite?” he mumbles, his tone casual but a bit uncertain. “They’re pretty rare, but I know of a cave that’s full of them.” For a fleeting moment, you wonder if this is the ocean’s version of Netflix and chill, the awkwardness of the offer landing with the charm of a bad pickup line. You can’t help but smile at the thought. 

Still, you nod, knowing that Hae would be thrilled to get her hands on more lepidolite, and besides, you’re curious. You figure underwater Netflix and chill is a bit different from what you’re used to anyway.

Namjoon leads the way, his brilliant blue tail weaving effortlessly through the water, shimmering like sunlight caught in a sapphire. You trail behind him, captivated by the rhythmic sway of his form, the way his muscles ripple across his broad back like waves sculpted by some divine hand. You can’t help but wonder—do they even have gyms down here? The sight of him, so fluid and powerful, is mesmerizing, and before you know it, time seems to slip away, your focus narrowing to the subtle dance of his movements.

“This is the cave,” he suddenly announces, pulling you out of your reverie. You hadn’t realized just how long you’d been swimming, utterly absorbed by the quiet beauty of the journey and him.

You follow him inside, and the sight that greets you takes your breath away—deep violet lepidolite, sparkling in the dim light like stars scattered across a twilight sky. You’re awestruck by the sheer abundance, the rare gems nestled into the cave walls as if nature had painted this secret world just for you.

“Beautiful, right?” Namjoon giggles softly, his voice echoing gently through the cavern as you nod, too taken by the sight to speak. You pull out your tools, carefully beginning to gather the precious stones, all while feeling the warmth of his gaze lingering on you. His silent watchfulness stirs a strange flustered feeling inside, like he’s studying you with the same intensity you’ve used to admire him.

Once your bag is heavy with lepidolite, Namjoon takes you on a quiet tour of other hidden gem spots. Each place he shows you feels like a secret whispered by the ocean itself, and soon your collection grows so large that the weight of it tugs at you, as if the sea itself is trying to pull you back down. When Namjoon offers to carry your bag, you try to refuse at first, clinging to your independence. But as your arms grow heavy, you relent, watching in awe as he effortlessly takes your overloaded bag, slinging it across his broad frame with ease. He carries it as though the weight is nothing, his strength as graceful as the tides themselves.

With a raised arm, you gesture that it’s time to surface—your oxygen running low, the familiar ache of needing air settling into your chest. He seems to understand immediately, and together you ascend, the world around you turning brighter as you rise toward the surface.

Breaking through the water, you gasp in the fresh air, peeling off your goggles and mouthpiece, eager to speak to him in the open air. Namjoon surfaces beside you, droplets clinging to his skin as the sun catches the water in his hair, casting a shimmering halo around his smiling face.

“We should do this again,” he says, his voice warm and full of excitement. “Wasn’t it fun?”

“It really was,” you reply with a smile, your heart still buzzing from the underwater adventure. “Thank you for showing me all those caves. My friend, Hae, is going to be over the moon,” you say, casting a glance toward the boat swaying gently in the distance.

“That’s great to hear,” Namjoon replies, his voice as smooth as the rippling waves.

A flicker of frustration tugs at your chest, and you bite your lip. “I just wish I could talk to you down there,” you admit, your words heavy with a longing that feels both simple and profound.

“It would be nice, yeah,” he muses, his soft smile brightened by the sunlight. “But I don’t mind coming up here to talk. I like the air up here too,” he adds with a gentle chuckle, his gaze warm and steady.

“I have so many questions,” you blurt out, the words escaping you before you can hold them back. There’s too much wonder bottled up inside you, too much curiosity, and it needs to spill over.

Namjoon laughs, a sound so genuine it feels like sunlight breaking through clouds. “Shoot,” he says, his dimples deepening like two small whirlpools at the corners of his mouth.

You pause, your mind swimming with possibilities, before settling on the most obvious. “Are you the only merman, or… are there more of you?” you ask, your voice tinged with awe.

“There are more,” he says with pride, his chest lifting slightly. “There’s a whole city beneath the sea—Naraeum, where we live.” His eyes gleam with the pride of someone who belongs to something ancient and wondrous.

A thrill runs through you at the revelation. An entire city of merfolk hidden beneath the waves. The thought makes your pulse quicken, the realization that you’ve stumbled upon something so extraordinary, so secret, that few on the surface could even imagine it. You feel as if you’ve been let in on the universe’s greatest mystery, and it fills you with a giddy excitement that hums like electricity in your veins. 

“Are there cities or kingdoms beneath the waves? What are they like?” you ask, your voice soft with curiosity, eager to glimpse the world he calls home.

Namjoon’s eyes light up with a quiet pride. “Naraeum is a vast kingdom,” he begins, his words gentle yet full of wonder. “There’s pink coral stretching as far as the eye can see, ancient golden buildings weathered by time, and bright green kelp that sways like dancers in the currents. Dark caves hide beneath the surface, teeming with life—fish, crabs, creatures of every kind. And at night, everything glows with bioluminescent light, turning the ocean into a dreamscape.” A faint blush rises on his cheeks as he adds, “Maybe I can show you one day.”

Your breath catches in your throat, the thought of seeing an underwater kingdom beyond anything you’ve ever imagined. “That sounds unbelievable. I’d love to see Naraeum,” you say, barely able to contain the excitement bubbling within you. The idea of diving so deep, into a world untouched by human hands, feels too surreal to grasp.

“There are other cities too,” Namjoon continues, a smile tugging at his lips. “Some are smaller, some are larger, but Naraeum is like the heart of our region, the capital of sorts,” he adds, the pride in his voice unmistakable.

Your mind whirls with possibilities, questions tumbling out before you can stop them. “Do you have art? Music? Stories? How do you create them underwater?”

Namjoon laughs, a full-bodied sound that echoes across the waves. “We do,” he replies with a sparkle in his eyes. “Human books, for one—we’ve learned to preserve them so they don’t dissolve. Otherwise, we etch our stories on stone, carving our history into the bones of the sea. For music, we use instruments that echo your drums, flutes, and strings, but they’re crafted from merfolk hair, delicate yet strong.”

He pauses, a wistful look crossing his face. “Naraeum is ancient, filled with art and stories older than any of us. But,” he adds, adjusting the heavy bag on his back, “I fear I don’t have enough time to share them all right now. This bag,” he says with a light grin, “is starting to weigh me down.”

“Oh right, the bag!” you exclaim, snapping back to reality as a wave of panic ripples through you. You mentally scold yourself for letting the moment sweep you away, your feet kicking gently against the water as you make your way toward the boat. Namjoon swims by your side, effortlessly graceful, his shimmering tail flickering beneath the surface. 

Hae is there, waiting with a patient smile, and as she pulls you aboard, you reach out to take the heavy bag from Namjoon’s hands. “Thank you so much,” you say, a warm smile spreading across your face despite the unspoken whirlpool of questions still swirling in your mind. You wish you could ask him everything, but those wonders will have to wait.

“It’s no trouble at all,” Namjoon replies, his voice soft like the lull of the ocean. His own smile is tender, a quiet acknowledgment that leaves you feeling light despite the weight of the bag. 

Hae chimes in with a grin, “So, you’re the famous merman,” she teases, still a little wide-eyed as Namjoon flashes his bright blue tail above the surface, the sight leaving her speechless. The tail vanishes just as quickly, a flicker of the magic below.

“I’ll have to go now,” Namjoon says, his voice carrying a gentle farewell as he begins to swim backward, his gaze lingering on yours. “But I’ll see you again soon, ___.”

A blush creeps up your cheeks, and despite yourself, you smile and wave, heart fluttering in a way that’s both exhilarating and unsettling. You watch him dip beneath the waves, his form disappearing into the deep blue, leaving the water still and the air quiet.

Hae turns to you with a knowing look. “You’ve got a crush on the merman, don’t you?”

You can’t deny the warmth spreading through you, but you push the thought aside, the reality of it sinking in. He’s a merman. You’re human. It feels impossible, like something from a dream. But maybe—just maybe—being friends isn’t out of reach. Friends, you think, as if convincing yourself. That can’t hurt... right?

In the following weeks, you find yourself swept into a world beyond imagination—each adventure with Namjoon feels like diving into a storybook of magic and wonder. He takes you to hidden underwater realms where gems glimmer like stars, and schools of fish, dolphins, and whales glide by as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. It’s as though the ocean has opened up just for you, revealing its secrets with every dive. The more time you spend with him, the stronger your heart tugs, pulling you deeper into your feelings. You try, futilely, to convince yourself you’re just friends, but every shared laugh, every meaningful glance, makes that harder to believe. 

Namjoon is an incredible friend, one who listens to your ramblings with genuine interest. His conversation is as vast and deep as the ocean itself, leading you into existential tangents that leave you pondering life and its mysteries long after the talks are over. You wish for more—there’s an ache that grows inside you—but how could that even be possible? He’s a merman, you’re human. It feels like some impossible fairy tale. Yet, you’ve caught him stealing glances, his cheeks tinged with blush, and sometimes he gazes at you with an intensity that makes your heart flutter in ways you can’t ignore. But does that mean anything? How do merfolk even love? You wonder if their hearts beat the same as yours.

One quiet afternoon, as you sit with the sun lazily dipping below the horizon on the boat, you find yourself asking the question that’s been gnawing at your mind. “Are there any consequences if a merman falls in love with a human?” The words tumble out before you can stop them. 

Namjoon, floating beside the boat, nearly chokes on the beer you brought him, his laughter turning into a cough as he searches for air. When he finally speaks, his voice is quieter, more careful. “There aren’t really... any consequences,” he murmurs, the tips of his ears turning pink. His eyes flicker nervously to your lips, then meet your eyes again, a quiet vulnerability swimming in their depths.

Good to know, you think, your heart skipping a beat. But before the blush overtakes you, you scramble to change the subject, your curiosity pulling you in another direction. “Is there magic in the ocean, like the old legends say? Can you control it?”

He laughs softly, the sound like the ebb and flow of waves. “There is magic, but no, I can’t control it. None of us can. There’s a Sea Witch, though—she’s the only one with that kind of power, as far as I know.” His words are laced with mystery, and your mind spins with possibilities.

“Can merfolk live forever?” you ask, half-dreaming of a life that stretches beyond the boundaries of time.

“Yes and no,” he replies, his voice thoughtful. “We can live for so long it feels like forever, but we’re not truly immortal.” His gaze drifts across the water, as if pondering the weight of time itself. 

“Interesting,” you murmur, your thoughts swirling. “What happens when a merperson dies, then? Is there an afterlife?”

Namjoon’s smile is wistful as he explains, “When a merperson dies, we hold a celebration—a spiritual send-off, really. There’s singing, dancing, it’s more of a party than a funeral. We celebrate their journey into the afterlife.” You must look puzzled because he quickly adds, “In the afterlife, we become ghosts. But if friends and family don’t send you off properly, there’s a chance the spirit might come back to haunt them.” He chuckles lightly, and you gasp, wide-eyed at the thought.

A cool breeze dances over the water, and for a moment, the world feels suspended between reality and the dreamlike expanse of the sea. You sit there, awed by the depth of his world, your heart both heavy with questions and light with wonder. And in that moment, despite the impossible distance between your two worlds, something seems to shift—something delicate and unspoken. You don’t know what the future holds, but maybe, just maybe, there’s magic enough to bridge the divide.

He passes the beer back to you, and you take a gentle sip, letting the taste linger without wanting the haze of drunkenness to settle in. Out here, in the middle of the endless ocean, everything feels both vast and intimate. A small taste is enough.

“Do you ever feel lonely in the vastness of the sea?” you ask, a quiet melancholy softening your voice as you gaze out at the seemingly endless horizon. The sea is breathtaking, yes, but the weight of its endlessness stirs something in you—a humbling reminder of how small one can feel in such a world.

“Sometimes,” Namjoon admits, his head dipping as his gaze finds the water. “There are moments when the ocean feels too big, too quiet.” His voice is soft, vulnerable. “But I have good friends,” he continues with a faint smile, “and I have my books when the solitude feels too heavy.” He looks at you with eyes warm and reassuring, as if to say that the sea might be vast, but he’s found beauty in its stillness.

“Oh, what books do you like?” you chuckle lightly, trying to brighten the mood, though his quiet sincerity tugs at your heart.

“Human books,” he replies with a gentle grin. “I love historical tales, but fiction is my favorite—stories that let me dream of other worlds.”

You smile, curiosity dancing on your lips. “What kind of fiction? Should I bring you some next time?” The words tumble out before you can catch them, your eagerness spilling over into the space between you.

A blush blooms across his cheeks, so deep it even colors the tips of his ears. In a shy, almost bashful voice, he says, “I... I like romance.” His admission is soft, as if he’s unsure of how it will land.

You can’t help but smile, your heart swelling with affection. There’s no shame in it, not to you—if anything, it’s endearing. “I have some romance books I can bring next time, if you’d like,” you offer, your voice gentle, feeling the warmth of your words fill the space between you.

Namjoon’s eyes sparkle, a soft wonder lighting them up as his blush deepens. “I wouldn’t mind that,” he murmurs, his voice as tender as the evening breeze.

The sun has begun to sink lower, casting a golden glow over the water. Namjoon glances at the sky, then back at you with a smile that feels like the closing of a chapter. “It’s getting late. I was thinking... next time, I could show you Naraeum.” His voice is proud, almost glowing with the thought. “If we go at night, the whole kingdom shines,” he adds, a spark of excitement in his eyes as he recalls the bioluminescent beauty he once described to you.

Your heart leaps at the thought. “I’d love that,” you say, feeling the pull of the ocean’s magic once more. “I’ll ask Hae to man the boat, so I’m not alone when it’s time to head back.”

Namjoon nods, his smile softening as the sun dips lower, its light casting golden hues over both the water and his blue hair. “See you soon,” he says, waving as he begins to slip beneath the surface.

You wave back, feeling the warmth of his presence linger, even as you sail toward the shore, the fading sunlight a reminder that the ocean holds many mysteries yet to be uncovered. And with each adventure, your connection to him deepens, like a current pulling you both to something inevitable.

"I’m telling you, you’re totally whipped, man," Yoongi says with a playful eye roll, his voice teasing but laced with truth.

“I’m not,” Namjoon protests, crossing his arms defensively, but deep down, he knows resistance is futile. His friends have been relentless, teasing him ever since you entered his life—how his smile stretches wider, brighter, after spending time with you, how your name slips into conversations that have nothing to do with the human world. It’s like you’ve seeped into his very soul. He knows he’s fallen, and fallen hard, but the weight of his feelings confuses him. He has no idea how to navigate them, unsure of your heart, or if you could even feel the same pull toward him. And how could it ever work between you two? The thought of venturing onto land to be with you dances through his mind like a fragile dream, but there’s a storm of questions swirling beneath the surface—questions he’s too afraid to ask, too scared to drown in all the unknowns.

“Just don’t get your heart broken,” Yoongi mutters, his voice softer now, tinged with caution. Namjoon nods, the words settling heavily in his chest like stones sinking to the ocean floor.

“Hey man, don’t throw your past experiences at Joonie like that!” Jimin chimes in, smacking Yoongi’s shoulder, a little too forcefully judging by Yoongi’s wince. “If he’s in love, he should go for it. Take the dive, see where the current leads him,” the blonde merman insists, eyes sparkling with mischief and optimism, trying to fill Namjoon’s heart with hope, pushing away the shadows Yoongi’s cynicism casts.

Namjoon, though, can only sigh. “I just don’t know…,” he mumbles, fingers trailing along the spines of his beloved books, rearranging them in some futile attempt to quiet the storm inside him. Anything to busy himself, anything to keep thoughts of you from consuming him. But it’s hopeless—why does his mind keep drifting back to you, like the tide, relentless and unyielding?

“It will never work,” Yoongi shrugs with a quiet scoff, his voice carrying the weight of someone who’s seen too many relationships slip away. His words linger in the air, heavy like the deep sea.

Jimin, unphased, shoots him a scolding glare. “You never know that,” he says firmly. “Just because your love life’s been a shipwreck doesn’t mean it’s the same for everyone else.” There’s a sharp edge to his words, a flicker of irritation.

“And look at Seokjin and Soo-ah!” Jimin adds, his voice lifting again, the gleam of an idea flickering in his eyes. “Soo-ah was human once too, remember? She turned mermaid for love. Maybe ___ would want to become a mermaid as well? Who knows what fate has in store,” he grins, ever the romantic, eager to plant seeds of possibility in Namjoon’s mind.

Namjoon’s heart stirs at the thought, but even the idea feels like a dream too distant, too fragile to reach. Could you really be part of his world? Could love, like the sea, find a way to bridge the impossible distance between you?

“I would never put that on her. She has a life—one she’s likely content with on land. I couldn’t ask her to leave it behind,” Namjoon says, his voice laced with breathless resignation, as though the weight of his own feelings has left him deflated, crushed beneath the impossibility of it all. 

“She’s a good friend. I’ll just... enjoy what we have for now,” he adds softly, placing the book you’d given him gently on his nightstand, his fingers lingering on the cover. He already treasures it, not for the words it contains, but because it came from you. Though he hasn’t yet reached the end, he finds himself lost in the pages, immersed in the tale of a woman struggling with feelings for her best friend—torn between preserving their friendship or risking everything for love. If Namjoon sees a reflection of his own heart in those pages, he’ll never admit it, not even to himself.

“Love sucks anyway,” Yoongi mutters, his voice sharp and bitter, like a wound still raw and bleeding.

“You’re killing the vibe, Yoon,” Jimin sighs, shaking his head as he swims closer to Namjoon, his energy warm and comforting. 

“Don’t listen to him,” Jimin adds, draping an arm around Namjoon’s broad shoulders, trying to lift the weight that presses down on his friend. “He’s the last person you want advice from when it comes to love. He’s forgotten what it means to believe in it.” Jimin shoots another glare at Yoongi, who merely shrugs, unmoved.

Namjoon lets out a weary sigh. He likes you—no, more than likes you. Perhaps he’s even in love, but he’s still learning to come to terms with that revelation. What if telling you his feelings drives you away? What if, in confessing his heart, he loses the precious friendship you’ve built together? You, who’ve brought laughter and life into his days. He’s never been close to a human before, not like this, and the thought of losing you weighs heavier than the ocean above him. 

It’s not like he hasn’t ventured to land before, tasted fleeting moments with humans—flings that flickered out as quickly as they began. But this, you, feel different. And he’s in deep water now, uncertain of the way forward. It doesn’t matter to him that you’re human. If you were a mermaid, he doubts it would make things easier. What draws him to you isn’t your species, it’s your soul. 

It’s the way your hair dances in the wind, or how it clings to your skin when it’s soaked from the sea. The way your cheeks flush red, that soft blush that dusts even the bridge of your nose. The way bubbles rise and swirl around you when you dive beneath the waves, how your lashes flutter like the wings of a butterfly. The way your presence calms the storm inside him, as though you carry the quiet strength of the sea itself.

Yes, Namjoon thinks, his heart heavy with the undeniable truth. He’s got it bad.

“Hae, I don’t know what to do,” you sigh, the weight of indecision pressing down on you as you sit at the coffee shop, staring at the steam rising from your untouched cup. You feel like you could pull your hair out, frustration boiling inside as you wait for the coffee to cool, though it’s really your emotions that need calming.

The midday sunlight filters through the window, casting soft golden light over your table, but you can’t appreciate the warmth. Your mind is too restless. What are you supposed to do with these feelings?

“It’s actually quite simple,” Hae says, her tone far too casual for the magnitude of what you’re feeling. She takes a sip of her coffee—how does she drink it so scalding hot?—and you scoff softly, half out of envy, half in disbelief at how calm she seems. “You just have to talk to him.”

You groan, the sound louder than you intended, pulling curious glances from the tables around you. Embarrassed, you lower your voice, but the frustration lingers, tugging at your insides like a tangled knot. 

“It’s not that easy,” you say, pushing your coffee aside. “What if he doesn’t like me? What if I ruin everything between us?” Your voice drops to a whisper as your hands fall to your lap, palms sweaty and clammy. “How would it even work? He’s a merman, Hae. I... I’m just me.”

Hae raises an eyebrow, amused. “Girl—have you seriously not noticed the way he looks at you?”

You blink. “What do you mean? He looks at me... normal.”

She gives you a look that suggests you might be the most oblivious person on the planet. “Nah. He looks at you like he’s ready to drown in your eyes—like you’re his whole world.”

Her words hit you like a sudden wave, stealing your breath for a moment. Could she be right? You’ve never seen Namjoon look at you like that, at least not in a way you could recognize. 

“Really?” you whisper, unsure, heart fluttering with both hope and fear.

“Yes,” she emphasizes, laughing a little as she sets her cup down. “You’re kinda stupid for not noticing.”

You finally take a tentative sip of your now-warm coffee, trying to hide the way her words unravel you. As the warmth settles in your chest, your mind starts racing, replaying all the moments you’ve shared with Namjoon, all the times he’s looked at you, spoken to you with that gentle smile. Had there been something more in those glances? Had you been too blind to see it?

“You should confess your feelings,” Hae says, matter-of-fact, sipping her coffee like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

But it’s not that simple, not for you. The thought of baring your heart feels like standing at the edge of a precipice, with no way of knowing if there’s solid ground beneath you—or a fall. What if she’s wrong? What if you’re wrong? 

You shake your head slowly. “I don’t know if I can. What if I ruin our friendship? What if he doesn’t feel the same?”

Hae gives you a knowing look, but you’re already spiraling, lost in your own thoughts. Maybe... maybe you could watch him a little longer, try to see what she’s seeing, catch more evidence that there’s something there, something more. 

Because the risk of losing him over your feelings—that terrifies you more than anything.

It’s a few nights later, and the sea is a blanket of darkness as you and Hae venture out into its endless expanse. The sky above is nearly pitch black, save for the delicate shimmer of stars scattered like diamonds, casting faint light upon the inky water. The moon hangs low, its pale glow mirrored perfectly on the surface, creating a fragile bridge between the heavens and the sea. You pull Hae into a hug, murmuring your gratitude for her being here, for her unwavering companionship on this strange, otherworldly journey. She laughs softly, her voice breaking the silence of the night, and tells you she wouldn’t let you drown—not when she’s here to keep you safe. Her words bring a smile to your face, easing the quiet tension in your chest as you pull on your gear in the dark.

You slip into the water, the sea swallowing you whole. Beneath the surface, it’s as black as ink, the deep blue fading into a near-impenetrable navy that borders on oblivion. But there is no fear, only the pull of the unknown as you dive deeper, surrendering to the quiet pull of the ocean. Your breath is steady, your heartbeat louder in your ears than the sound of the waves above.

And then, there he is—Namjoon, his gentle smile waiting for you like a beacon in the depths, dimples carving softness into the darkness. His presence is steady, grounding, and for a moment, you forget you can’t speak, forgetting that the words you wish to say—I’m glad I’m here, thank you for this—are trapped behind the mask of your breathing gear.

Suddenly, his hand reaches for yours. The touch surprises you at first, a flicker of warmth against the cold of the sea, sending a soft spark up your arm, a silent current that makes your heart stutter. But then you relax into it, realizing how right it feels—his hand in yours, the silent understanding between you. It’s just a hand, you remind yourself, but even the smallest gesture carries weight in the depths of the sea.

“It’s dark,” he gestures to your joined hands, his voice a whisper through the water. “I’ll guide you.” You notice, even in the dim light, how his eyes shift nervously, and if the ocean weren’t so dark, you’d swear there was a blush creeping across his cheeks.

Together, you swim deeper, your hand still clasped in his as the world around you begins to change. In the distance, something gleams—a glint of gold, faint but unmistakable. As you draw closer, it becomes more defined, taking shape as towering structures rise from the seafloor like monuments from another world. Tall, ancient buildings glitter beneath the water, their surfaces gleaming with gold, adorned in intricate lettering and symbols you can’t begin to decipher. The curves and arches remind you of something familiar, some echo of human architecture, though far grander and more ancient than anything you’ve ever seen. These aren’t just buildings—they’re castles, palaces from a forgotten fairy tale. Everything is bathed in the ethereal glow of bioluminescent light, soft blues and yellows emanating from plants that pulse like stars, making the entire city shimmer as if alive with magic. It’s breathtaking—otherworldly in its beauty—and you feel your breath catch in your throat, mesmerized by the impossible splendor before you. 

How many wonders exist beneath the surface, hidden from the world above? you think, the weight of it all is almost too much to grasp. That such a place could exist, a vast city of gold and light, thriving in the deep—how could you have never known?

“Welcome to Naraeum,” Namjoon says, his voice soft, gesturing toward the city center that teems with life. Merpeople of all shapes, colors, and ages drift through the streets, some lost in their own rhythms, others laughing and chatting, and children darting through the water in playful games. The whole scene is alive, vibrant, and full of warmth, and the sight of it fills you with something indescribable—joy, wonder, perhaps even belonging.

A smile spreads across your face, unbidden, as the reality of this magical place settles over you. For the first time, you feel like you’ve truly discovered something beyond the world you’ve known, something boundless and beautiful. And with Namjoon beside you, it feels like you’ve only just begun to understand its depths.

“This is the city hall,” Namjoon gestures toward the tallest of the castles, its golden spires reaching upward like fingers trying to touch the ocean’s surface. “The royal family lives there too.” His voice is soft, but there’s a weight to his words, something ancient and significant about the building that looms over the city like a silent guardian.

You glance at him, blinking, wishing you could ask more, the curiosity burning inside you. If only you could speak, but the water and the mouthpiece keep your questions trapped behind your lips. The tug of his hand interrupts your thoughts, and once again you’re being gently pulled deeper into the heart of Naraeum, where the city unfolds like a dream in slow motion.

The water sways with life—delicate kale and other greens move in rhythm with the gentle currents, shells glint beneath the sandy floor, and tiny crabs scuttle between the rocks, oblivious to your presence. Shoals of fish—bright yellow, orange, and black—dart past, their quicksilver bodies flashing through the twilight water. And now, the eyes of the merpeople are on you. Their gazes, curious and shimmering, follow you as you move through their world, and for the first time, you feel like a true visitor in a land not your own.

Three merpeople approach, their figures graceful and effortless in the water. One, a striking merman with a pink tail that shimmers like rose quartz in the dim light, looks you over with an intensity that makes you feel seen in a way both comforting and unfamiliar. You notice his hand intertwined with a mermaid beside him, her tail a stunning shade of purple that gleams like amethyst. Together, they are radiant, like a pair of jewels. They look perfect together, you think, a bit in awe of how seamlessly they belong to this world.

“This is ___?” the pink-tailed merman asks, his voice smooth, his eyes darting to Namjoon for confirmation.

Namjoon nods, and the mermaid smiles, her face brightening with warmth. “Pleased to meet you,” she says, her voice light like a melody. “I’m Soo-ah, and this is my fiancé, Seokjin.” You nod in response, acknowledging them with a smile behind your mouthpiece, feeling a sense of camaraderie in their presence.

But before you can speak—or even think of what to say—your eyes catch on the third figure. A dark-haired merman with a tail the color of midnight, streaked with gold that glimmers like starlight. His aura is different—colder, detached. His black eyes flicker over you briefly, then, with a dismissive scoff, he turns away, arms crossed over his chest as if to close himself off from the world. 

Namjoon sighs, his voice edged with irritation, “That’s Yoongi.” The name comes out rough, almost an apology. “He forgot to take the stick out of his ass today.”

You can’t help but chuckle, bubbles escaping from your mouthpiece, rising toward the surface like tiny pieces of joy. Even in this underwater kingdom, humor survives, softening the tension. But Yoongi, unmoved, swims off into the shadows, his figure disappearing into the vastness of the sea. 

“Don’t mind him,” Namjoon mutters, squeezing your hand a little tighter. “Come on, I want to show you the rest.”

Soo-ah and Seokjin swim alongside you as Namjoon leads you through the winding streets of the marketplace, stalls lined up like sentinels, though empty now in the quiet of night. The architecture is both foreign and familiar, illuminated by the soft glow of bioluminescent plants. Everything feels untouched by time, and yet alive with history. You pass the grand library next, its shelves filled with tomes both ancient and new, merfolk stories and human books resting side by side. You can almost feel the weight of untold stories and hidden lore that fills the space, waiting to be discovered.

Namjoon’s excitement builds as he takes you to a fitness center unlike anything you’ve ever seen—massive bars with stones at either end, weights crafted from various-sized rocks, and machines clearly designed for strength and agility in the water. It’s a glimpse into the life of these beings, how they build themselves in this weightless world.

After a while, Soo-ah and Seokjin bid you farewell, their presence a quiet comfort as they swim off together, leaving you alone with Namjoon. Your pulse quickens. His hand, still clasped in yours, feels warm even in the cold depths of the sea. The way he glances at you—those fleeting, secretive looks that you’ve caught out of the corner of your eye—makes your heart race even more. Hae’s words echo in your mind, whispering truths you’re not sure you’re ready to admit. 

Could it be? you wonder, as the two of you drift toward his home.

“This is my place,” he says softly, his voice reverberating through the water as he turns on the light—an iridescent seashell hanging from the ceiling that casts a gentle, pearlescent glow throughout the space. His home is carved into the heart of a cave, the walls smooth and cool to the touch, like the sea itself has shaped them over countless years. Your eyes fall on his bed, draped in what looks like a soft, inviting duvet, but as you get closer, you realize it’s woven from delicate strands of kelp, swaying ever so slightly in the currents. It’s an unexpected beauty, intricate and organic, like everything in this underwater world.

The longest wall is dominated by a towering bookshelf, its shelves lined with books, arranged meticulously by color and size. It’s mesmerizing, this ocean of stories he’s collected, and you can’t help but wonder what worlds and lives he’s explored within these pages. You want to tell him, to say how beautiful it all is—his home, his soul, him. But your words are trapped beneath the weight of the sea, tangled with the breathlessness of being in his presence. 

Your fingertips brush the spines of the books, imagining all the narratives they contain, each one another layer of who Namjoon is. You glance down at your joined hands—his fingers laced with yours, and in that quiet moment, you swear you can feel something electric passing between you. A pulse of warmth, a silent exchange of emotions you can’t speak. You want to kiss him, more than anything. The way he’s gazing at you, his eyes soft and full of something unspoken, the gentle curve of his lips hiding a blush you wish you could see more clearly.

But here, in this quiet cavern beneath the sea, there’s nothing you can do. You can’t ask him what you’re dying to know, can’t lean in and feel the warmth of his lips against yours, can’t tell him that you’re falling, deeply, helplessly. All you can do is float here, heart aching with the weight of everything unsaid. 

He clears his throat, nervously scratching the back of his head. His mouth opens as if he’s about to speak, then closes again. There’s something he wants to say, you can feel it, lingering in the air between you. He tries again, and this time his voice, soft and hesitant, finally breaks the silence. 

“Thank you for letting me show you my world.”

You squeeze his hand gently, pouring all the gratitude and affection you can’t voice into that single touch. You hope he feels it—the appreciation, the awe, the quiet longing you carry for him. And in that touch, you wish you could invite him into your world, share everything that you are with him, even though he’s been on land before. But you don’t know if he’d want that. You’ve never asked, never dared to imagine what it might be like to share your lives across these two worlds. You’re afraid to impose, afraid to hope too much.

The moment hangs fragile between you, but like all perfect moments, it begins to fade as reality presses in. You feel the pull of time, the reminder that you need to return to the surface. Namjoon feels it too. His eyes flicker with understanding as he leads you back out into the city, guiding you through the soft glow of bioluminescent lights, past the merpeople still moving gracefully through their midnight routines. 

The silence between you stretches as you swim toward the boat where Hae waits, but it’s not the kind of silence that weighs heavy. It’s filled with possibility, thick with everything you haven’t said. Your heart beats faster as you realize that, once you’re back above the water, you’ll have the chance to speak. To ask. The thought of it sends your pulse racing, a swirl of excitement and terror mixing in your chest. 

What if he doesn’t feel the same? The question spins through your mind, gnawing at the edges of your courage. But the way he looked at you, the way his hand feels in yours, gives you hope. And maybe—just maybe—that will be enough.

As you break the surface of the water, you push your goggles up to rest like a headband, feeling the cool night air kiss your damp skin. It’s crisp, almost electric, filling your lungs with a freshness that makes the world above feel more alive than ever. Namjoon surfaces beside you, offering you a soft smile, but your attention is caught by the subtle blush dusting his cheeks, a faint rose bloom in the moonlight. He seems hesitant, his uncertainty mirroring your own, as if you’re both standing on the edge of something vast and uncharted, too afraid to take that first leap.

For a heartbeat, he swims closer, his presence looming gently in your space. You hold your breath, your pulse quickening with the thought that he might—maybe—kiss you. Instinctively, you close your eyes, ready to surrender to that moment, but instead, his fingers brush your cheek, and he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear with such tenderness it sends a wave of warmth through your body. His touch lingers, delicate and deliberate, and though it wasn’t the kiss you imagined, it makes you blush all the same. The heat rises to your cheeks, flooding you with a mixture of longing and disappointment.

But then something stirs within you—some reckless courage sparked by his closeness—and before you can think it through, you lean in. Your lips find his, a soft, quick kiss, almost like a whisper. It’s gentle, just a peck, but his lips are warm, softer than you ever imagined, like the sea breeze caressing your skin on a summer evening. 

When you pull away, you see the surprise flicker in his eyes for just a moment before his features soften into something tender and full of quiet affection. His ears burn red in the moonlight, and his dimples deepen as he gazes at you with a look that leaves you breathless. His brown eyes—dark and shimmering, like polished amber—glow with something more, something deeper. You think, just for a second, it’s desire, simmering beneath his calm exterior.

“Thank you for tonight,” you whisper, your voice barely carrying over the soft lapping of the waves. You squeeze his hand, feeling the warmth and strength of him, and smile. “It was so beautiful.”

Namjoon doesn’t speak; he simply looks at you, his dragon-like eyes full of quiet intensity, his dimples softening the tension in the air. It’s a look that makes your heart skip, that holds a thousand unsaid words between you. And as you reluctantly pull away, swimming toward the boat, your mind is still spinning from the kiss, from the closeness, from everything left unspoken.

Hae pulls you up into the boat, and as you sit, catching your breath, you catch her sly grin. You know she saw everything—the kiss, the blush, the way Namjoon looked at you—but for now, she stays silent, letting the moment hang in the air. You wave to Namjoon, watching as he offers one last gentle smile before disappearing back into the deep, dark waters, the night swallowing him whole.

And even as the waves settle, your heart still swells, full of the hope and mystery that the night—and Namjoon—left behind.

The days pass in a blur of anxious thoughts, your heart heavy with doubt. Every dive into the ocean feels colder without a trace of Namjoon, and the silence is deafening. Each time you resurface alone, your mind spirals further into uncertainty. Did you overstep? The kiss lingers on your lips, but now you wonder if it was a mistake. It feels as if he’s vanished into the depths, leaving you adrift. Is he avoiding me? The question gnaws at you, twisting your insides. Maybe this is his way of saying he doesn’t feel the same, that he wants nothing more to do with you.

Hae, ever the caring friend, drags you to a fancy restaurant in an attempt to soothe your restless mind, insisting that you’re worrying yourself to death. You look like a dog that’s been kicked, she had said with a shake of her head, trying to make you laugh. But now, as you sit across from her, poking at the salad you barely have the appetite to eat, the weight of your uncertainty presses down even harder. Your stomach twists with every bite, the anxiety clinging to you like a shadow.

“Maybe he’s just busy, or caught up in merfolk stuff?" Hae suggests, her voice light, trying to pry you from the dark corners of your thoughts. But your mind won’t let you escape. Busy? No, your treacherous thoughts whisper, he’s avoiding you—he’s forgotten you, and the kiss meant nothing.

You say nothing, only stabbing your fork into the salad with a kind of quiet fury, each jab into the leaves an outlet for the storm brewing inside you.

“Uh, ___?” Hae’s voice breaks the tension, but you barely lift your head. She stumbles over her words, clearly uneasy, her tone cautious as she leans in closer. “There’s a man—blue hair—he’s looking at us.”

At her words, something stirs in you, curiosity overriding the anger for just a moment. Blue hair? Your heart skips a beat, and before you can stop yourself, you turn around, almost instinctively, as though drawn by an invisible thread. Your gaze collides with a pair of deep, brown eyes that hold all the mystery of the ocean. Namjoon.

His eyes glisten like the sea at dawn, reflecting both depth and tenderness, swirling with something unspoken—regret, maybe even desire. You swallow hard, feeling the magnetic pull that has always existed between you, but this time, it’s stronger. The air around you thickens as he walks toward the table, his presence unmistakable, sending your pulse into a wild rhythm.

“Hi, Y/N,” he says, his voice soft, laced with an apology that doesn’t need to be spoken yet. The smile he offers is gentle, almost shy, and you can see the guilt in the way his eyes search yours. He knows. He knows he shouldn’t have disappeared without a word.

“Hi, Namjoon,” you manage to reply, the sound of his name on your lips stirring something deep inside you—something that’s a mixture of relief and frustration. You’re a little mad, of course you are. But as your heart races, you know you can’t stay angry with him, not when he’s standing there with that look in his eyes. He’s here now. And that’s enough for your heart to forgive him.

Your eyes travel down to his legs—strong, toned, perfectly human. He’s traded the water for the land, just for you, standing there in beige shorts like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And yet, your mind spins with the impossibility of it all, as if he’s a dream made flesh, and part of you still can’t believe he’s really here.

The air between you is thick with unspoken words, a tension that seems to ripple like the sea itself. Namjoon scratches the back of his head, his eyes shifting with uncertainty. “I’m sorry I’ve been gone,” he begins, his voice low and sincere. “I didn’t mean to disappear like that, but something happened in Naraeum—”

Before he can finish, the weight of your own anxiety breaks through, forcing the words from your chest. “I thought you didn’t like me, or just forgot about me.” The admission tumbles out, raw and trembling, the very fear that has haunted you for days finally taking shape between you. As soon as the words leave your lips, you feel exposed, vulnerable. You brace yourself for his response.

For a moment, he just stares, his expression frozen in disbelief, like your words have knocked the wind out of him. Then, his face softens, eyes wide with something close to shock. “Baby, no,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand, the nickname slipping from his lips so naturally that it sends a flutter of warmth through your chest. He steps closer, worry etched in every line of his face as his gaze falls on you, sitting there with your heart in your throat.

Baby?

“I’d never forget about you,” he continues, his voice trembling slightly as he bites his lower lip, as if trying to hold something back. The intimacy of that small gesture makes your breath catch.

Hae clears her throat opposite you, breaking the charged moment. She rises from her seat, her chair scraping loudly against the floor, drawing both your gazes toward her flushed face. “Namjoon, please, take my seat and talk. I’ll go home and shower this tension off,” she says, her tone teasing but kind.

You open your mouth to protest, but then close it, realizing she’s right. The tension is palpable, thick as the ocean depths, and part of you is grateful for the space she’s offering. Even though nerves twist inside you like a storm, you know this is a conversation you need to have.

As Hae leaves, Namjoon sits down across from you, his eyes soft and apologetic. “I’m sorry I worried you, baby,” he murmurs, leaning forward slightly. His hands rest on the table, inching closer to yours, like he’s afraid to cross that final distance too soon.

There’s that word again—baby—and it stirs something deep inside you, butterflies rising in your chest, fluttering wildly, desperate to escape. It’s more than just a nickname; it’s a promise, a reassurance that melts the cold fear that has been gnawing at you for days.

“It’s okay,” you reply, your voice softer now, the storm inside you beginning to calm. “My mind just... got the better of me.” Your gaze flickers to where his fingers hover near yours, and your heart beats wildly at the nearness of him.

Namjoon is here, in front of you, and you realize with a quiet, overwhelming relief—he’s never really been gone.

“I could never not like you,” Namjoon murmurs, his voice dipping lower, softer, as if the truth is too delicate to be spoken aloud. “I think I... love you,” he finishes, the last words barely audible, yet they linger in the air between you like a fragile secret.

Did he just say love? Your heart stumbles, and for a moment, you forget to breathe. “You do?” you ask, your voice trembling with disbelief, your pulse fluttering wildly in your chest. Could it be real? Could he feel the same way?

A flicker of uncertainty dances across your mind, and you can’t help but press further, needing clarity. “Wait—do you think, or do you know?” Your question is gentle, but it carries the weight of hope, a hope that has been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

Namjoon smiles at himself, a soft laugh escaping his lips. “Sorry,” he says, the sincerity in his eyes unmistakable. “I know. I know I love you.”

Time seems to slow, the world slipping into a dreamlike state where everything feels soft, suspended, as if wrapped in the warm glow of your shared confession. The air between you feels charged, but also tender, like the fragile moment before the first petal falls. You can feel it now—he’s there with you, and this love, this real thing, is finally mutual.

You reach out, taking his hands in yours, and lean in closer. “I love you too, Namjoon,” you whisper, the words feeling both daring and true.

For a moment, silence settles between you, but it’s a comfortable silence—one filled with the weight of what’s just been said. His hazel eyes, flecked with warmth and softness, hold yours, and you swear you could drown in them. Drown and never wish to come up for air.

The pull between you is magnetic, and before you can stop yourself, the words slip out, unfiltered and bold. “Do you... want to come see my place?” The second the words leave your mouth, heat rushes to your cheeks. The invitation is brazen, filled with unspoken implications, but you know it’s what you want—all of him, not just this moment, but something more, something deeper.

Namjoon’s breath catches, and he stands, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yes, baby,” he replies in a voice that is almost a whisper, but carries the weight of everything he feels. That one word—baby—sends shivers spiraling down your spine, and you bite your lip, holding back a smile.

Hand in hand, you walk together through the quiet night, the cool air a stark contrast to the warmth building between you. You don’t need words now; the simple contact of his hand in yours is enough, grounding you as you lean into his strong frame. It feels so natural, as if you’ve always been walking beside him, as if this was always meant to happen.

When you reach your apartment, you fumble for the keys, unlocking the door with a nervous flutter in your chest. As the door swings open, you flick on the light, and for a moment, you glance around, hoping he won’t find your space too cluttered or small. You’d cleaned just the day before, but still, anxiety lingers.

Namjoon steps inside, his eyes roaming the space, but he doesn’t say a word. Instead, he looks at you, his gaze heavy with something unspoken, something that makes your heart race. His hand tightens around yours, and you feel yourself being pulled further into his orbit, like gravity drawing you closer.

You look up at him, studying the moles that dot his skin, noticing the way his features are softened by the low light. He’s so close, and in this moment, with his warm eyes on yours and his hand gently holding yours, you think—this is what it means to truly be seen, to truly be wanted. And God, does he look so handsome.

Then, without hesitation, he dives in, his lips crashing into yours with a desperate, urgent need. The moment you let out a soft moan against his mouth, he releases your hand, now free to explore you. Both of his hands cup your cheeks tenderly, yet with a fierceness that pulls you deeper into him. The kiss consumes you, leaving you feeling like water melting in his palms—soft, fluid, and utterly surrendered. His lips tease yours, grazing them in a way that demands more, and when he seeks entrance, you grant it willingly. Your tongues meet in a slow, intoxicating rhythm, moving like waves crashing together under a moonlit sea.

Another moan escapes you, and you feel heat pooling deep inside, a yearning that’s overwhelming. And it’s only a kiss—yet it has you unraveling like a ribbon coming loose.

When he finally pulls away, his gaze locks onto yours, desire simmering in the air between you, thick and electric. “Baby, I want you so bad,” he breathes, his lips curling into a soft pout that makes your heart melt. How does he look both fierce and endearing at once?

You can’t help but smile, your own need burning just as fiercely. “Me too... Please call me ‘baby’ more,” you whisper, fluttering your lashes as you cling to the warmth in his eyes. “I love it.”

He chuckles, the sound like a low rumble of thunder. “Oh, I’ve noticed,” he says, amused. “Every time I call you ‘baby,’ your eyes dilate.”

You didn’t know that, but you feel the truth of it—the way that simple word makes your heart race, how it draws you even closer to him, making you crave more.

“I want you...” You pause, feeling the boldness rise within you, “I want you to fuck me.” Your voice is breathless, your gaze holding his with an unspoken plea.

Namjoon grins, a softness creeping into his eyes. “Oh, baby, I’m going to make love to you,” he whispers, and the words are like honey dripping slow and thick. “Don’t you worry,” he adds, his lips capturing yours again with a hunger that makes your head spin.

Each kiss sends you spiraling further into him, your sanity slipping, but God, you love every second of it. It strikes you then how much of a romantic he is, how the passion in his touch mirrors the stories he loves in his books.

He pulls back, his breath hot against your lips. “Where’s your bedroom?” he asks with a playful chuckle.

You point, and before you can say another word, his strong hands find your waist, lifting you effortlessly. You wrap your legs around him, straddling his hips as he carries you across the room. He opens the bedroom door with a sweep of his foot, not bothering with the light, and gently lowers you onto the bed. Laughter bubbles between you, soft and sweet, as his lips claim yours again in a kiss that is both feverish and tender.

Your fingers tangle in his blue hair, tugging at the strands, and he hisses in pleasure, the sound sending shivers racing down your spine. He grinds against you, his erection pressing firmly against your core, and you feel yourself unraveling again, melting beneath him. God, he feels big, you think, your body aching to know him, to feel him completely.

Your hands move to the hem of his shirt, your fingers brushing against his skin as you tug the fabric upward, longing to see his bare chest again. You know what lies beneath—his broad, muscular frame, every inch of him beautifully sculpted, chest rising and falling with each breath. And you need to touch him, to feel his strength beneath your hands.

In this moment, nothing else matters—just him, you, and the gravity of everything that has led you here.

He pulls away, sensing exactly what you want, and in one fluid motion, grabs the hem of his shirt, peeling it off in a way that feels almost sinful. The sight of him should be illegal—holy hell, the way his muscles flex as he undresses is enough to take your breath away.

Your hands move instinctively, drawn to the expanse of his chest, a perfect blend of softness and strength. The skin beneath your fingers is warm, and the way he feels—solid, yet yielding—is intoxicating.

“Like what you see?” he teases, his voice low and full of that gentle confidence, and you can only gape at him, feeling the warmth of your admiration blossom into something deeper.

“God, Namjoon, you’ve always been beautiful... inside and out,” you murmur, your voice filled with reverence, because while his looks are striking, it’s his soul that captivates you.

His lips curve into a soft smile, his gaze tender as he leans down, brushing light kisses along the curve of your neck. The sensation sends waves of laughter bubbling out of you, light and breathless, as the tickle of his lips spreads joy and heat all at once. He keeps moving lower, trailing kisses down your body like a map only he knows how to navigate.

When he reaches the waistband of your pants, he pauses, eyes flicking up to meet yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Can I?” he asks, his voice both eager and gentle.

“Yes,” you whisper, and as he unbuttons your pants, you arch your back to help him slide them off, heart racing. He pauses again, staring for a moment, captivated by the sight of you, the evidence of your desire already showing.

“You’re so wet, baby,” he says, his voice hushed and full of wonder. “All for me?”

You nod, breath hitching, your body already trembling with need. “Yes, Joon. You make me so damn wet,” you pant, writhing beneath him, desperate for more. “Please, just touch me.”

His gaze darkens with lust as he licks his lips, then dips his head lower, trailing kisses across your stomach, inching closer to where you need him most. Every touch sends sparks of pleasure through you, and you giggle softly, unable to contain the lightness you feel even as desire coils tighter within you. His lips press against the hem of your lace panties, nothing extravagant, yet he looks at you like you’re the most exquisite thing he’s ever seen.

With agonizing slowness, he hooks his fingers into the waistband, pulling them down with deliberate care. The cool air of your apartment contrasts sharply with the warmth between your thighs, and you gasp, aching for him. You feel exposed, vulnerable, but in the most delicious way—his gaze heavy with desire as he takes you in.

“Joonie…” you moan softly, voice trembling, as his eyes linger on your glistening pussy, admiring you. You wonder if he finds you beautiful like this, spread bare before him, and his awestruck expression tells you everything.

“Damn,” he whispers, voice thick with astonishment. “You’re so pretty… already dripping with need.”

Your breath catches as his words wash over you, and when he asks, “Can I taste you? Can I touch you?” you can barely manage a nod as you spread your legs wider, inviting him in.

“Please,” you beg, feeling delirious with want, every nerve in your body alight with anticipation.

His touch is featherlight at first, a single finger brushing over your swollen clit, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through you. You flinch, already overly sensitive, a gasp falling from your lips as your body responds immediately.

“More,” you plead, rolling your hips into his hand, urging him to press harder, to give you what you crave.

His fingers glide over you, warm and sure, stroking your slick skin with precision. Every movement sets off another spark, and a moan escapes you—high-pitched, breathy, and filled with need. His touch is both tender and demanding, and with every stroke, you feel yourself unraveling, caught in the storm of pleasure.

His fingers continue their rhythm, rolling over your sensitive clit with perfect precision, each movement making it throb with want. Your body reacts instinctively, hips rising to meet his touch, chasing more—chasing everything. You need all of him, and the craving is almost unbearable.

Namjoon watches you with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken, his eyes filled with both desire and wonder as he works you with his fingers, and then, slowly, his lips find the tender skin of your inner thigh. His kisses are featherlight, but they leave a trail of fire in their wake, and you tremble under his touch. With each kiss, he moves closer, until finally, his mouth finds your pussy, his warm tongue lapping at your slick folds, tasting you with reverence.

He groans, the sound vibrating against your core, and your hands instinctively tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, as if you want him to drown in your pleasure. His tongue flicks over your sensitive nub, teasing, tasting, and the sensation makes your whole body tense in anticipation. His fingers slide to your entrance, probing gently before slipping inside, one at a time. The stretch feels divine, his fingers curling to reach deeper, and soon two, then three fill you, stretching you in the most perfect, delicious way.

Your toes curl, your breath comes in ragged gasps as you feel the wave of your climax building, rising with every flick of his tongue, every stroke of his fingers. “Joon,” you gasp, a warning, but he only sucks harder, his lips and tongue working in tandem as his fingers thrust deeper, hitting that spot inside you that sends you spiraling.

The world tilts, and your back arches as the orgasm crashes through you, white-hot and electric. You thrash beneath him, pulling at his hair as pleasure floods your body, and all you can do is moan his name in a broken, breathless whisper. Even as your body shudders, he doesn’t stop, his mouth still on your clit, drawing out every last wave until you’re trembling with overstimulation. You tap his shoulder weakly, and finally, he pulls back, his face glistening with your slick, eyes dark with satisfaction.

“So pretty,” he murmurs, his hand brushing softly over your thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. His touch is light, reverent, and though you’re still floating in the bliss of your release, you feel the need to return the favor rise within you.

“Let me take care of you,” you whisper, your voice thick with desire as you shift, pushing him down beside you. He opens his mouth to protest, but the words are swallowed by a low groan as you straddle his lap, feeling the hard bulge of his cock press against your wet core. You grind down on him, teasing him with the friction, and he lets out a ragged moan that makes your pulse quicken.

“I just want to make you feel good,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his lips, tasting yourself on him. “I don’t know how mermen make love, but as humans—I want you to feel good too.”

He chuckles softly, his hands resting on your hips, eyes dark with hunger. “It’s definitely not the same,” he admits, voice low and breathless, and that’s all the encouragement you need. You slide down his lap to the floor, your eyes locked on his, your intentions clear.

Your fingers find the waistband of his shorts, and he helps you pull them down, revealing his muscular thighs. When you see the thick outline of his cock straining against his boxers, your mouth waters, anticipation making your pulse quicken. Tugging down the last barrier, you free him, and his cock springs forward, thick and long, the head flushed red with need. A bead of precum glistens at the tip, and your breath hitches at the sight of him, hunger twisting deep inside you.

You lick your lips, your hands moving with purpose—one resting on his thigh, the other wrapping around the thick base of his shaft, feeling the weight of him in your palm. Slowly, you begin to pump, your fingers sliding over the velvety skin as you build a steady rhythm.

Namjoon groans, the sound so deep it reverberates through your core, and you can feel him tense beneath your touch, his body reacting to every stroke. His groans are like music, deep and sinful, and they make you want to push him further, to hear more of those primal, desperate sounds spill from his lips.

Damn, you need more of him.

You glance up at him, mischief in your eyes as you give a playful wink before taking him into your mouth. The taste is salty, a mix of his precum and something else, something almost elemental, as if the sea still clings to him. It sends a shiver down your spine, urging you to lose yourself in the act. You move with intent, your lips and tongue working in unison, breathing deeply through your nose as you take him deeper, each stroke making his body tremble beneath you.

He gasps your name, his voice barely a whisper, like it’s the only thing tethering him to the moment. His hands find their way to your hair, gentle, not controlling—just resting there as if he’s entranced by the sight of you. He glances down, watching the way your mouth moves over him, and his breath quickens, as if the very air has become too thin.

“Fuck,” he groans, voice strained, “you’re so damn good at this.”

You smirk inwardly, already knowing, but the praise sends a thrill through you. There’s something intoxicating about the way he fills your mouth, the way you feel him pulse against your tongue. It makes you wonder how your pussy will take him, how it’ll feel when he’s buried deep inside you, stretching you wide.

You’re making a mess of him—your saliva slicks his length, dripping down onto the sheets—but you don’t care. Not when he’s like this, writhing beneath you, his muscles taut with need. Your hand moves lower, cupping his balls, rolling them gently in your palm, and you feel them tighten as he draws closer to the edge.

“Damn,” he rasps, voice rough with desire, “you look and feel so fucking amazing.”

The sound of his praise sends another wave of heat rushing through you, making you wetter, a needy ache building low in your belly. You take him deeper, determined, your throat tightening as you try to swallow him down. But your gag reflex protests, and you pull back slightly, not wanting to push too far. Instead, you focus on teasing the head, your tongue circling slowly before flicking across his sensitive frenulum. He groans sharply, his hips jerking, and you can’t help the soft giggle that escapes you.

He’s unraveling, his control slipping, and you love it—love the power you hold over him in this moment, love seeing him lost in you.

Suddenly, his hands come to your cheeks, stilling your movements as he looks down at you with hooded eyes, his chest heaving with shallow breaths. “Baby,” he rasps, his voice thick with both lust and affection, “you’re dangerous with that mouth. If you keep going, I’m going to come right down your throat… and I want to make love and come inside you.”

You release him with a soft pop, a teasing smirk playing on your lips as you lick them slowly, savoring the taste of him. “You can always come down my throat later,” you murmur, your voice low and sultry. Rising to your feet, you peel off your shirt, followed by the clasp of your bra, letting it fall to the floor. Your breasts spill free, and the heat in Namjoon’s gaze intensifies as his hands instinctively find your hips, his grip firm yet tender.

“Is every inch of you just perfect?” he breathes, awe in his voice. The compliment sends a flush of warmth to your cheeks, and you chuckle softly, not answering because his words feel rhetorical, like they’re part of the worship that’s building between you.

Instead, you lean down to kiss him, pouring every bit of your desire into it. His cock twitches beneath you, hard and throbbing against your thighs, but you take your time, savoring the kiss—long, slow, and tender. You straddle him, hovering just above his cock, your body aching to sink down, to feel him inside you. But instead, you pause, letting yourself get lost in the depth of his gaze, his eyes like molten gold, swirling with emotion.

He kisses you again, his lips soft but insistent, and in that moment, you feel weightless. Like you’re floating, caught in a current, drifting between pleasure and affection. You feel cherished, like a treasure he’s unearthed from the depths of the ocean—glimmering, precious, and adored like the gems you’ve been collecting.

He groans, a deep, feral sound vibrating from his chest, and his hands tighten around your hips, the pressure promising bruises that’ll bloom as tender reminders of this moment. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, baby,” he pants, his eyes dark and hooded with lust, as if he’s trying to memorize every curve of your face. His lips search for yours, hungry, desperate to close the space between you again.

“Likewise,” you breathe out, your voice shaky, your pulse racing. One of your hands trails down his body, fingers grazing his taut abdomen before wrapping around the thick length of him. You lift yourself slightly, feeling the heat of him against you. Just as you’re about to guide him inside, his deep voice cuts through the haze of desire.

“Should we use a condom?” he asks, his words momentarily shattering the tension, leaving the air thick but still.

You blink, slightly caught off guard, but quickly recover. “We don’t have to,” you murmur, sensing his hesitation. His brow furrows, so you add, “I have an IUD, and I’m clean. It’s… it’s been a long time for me.” Your words taper off, embarrassment creeping into your cheeks, suddenly feeling vulnerable beneath his gaze.

He studies you for a second, his expression softening before that same, dark hunger returns. “Okay, I just wanted to make sure,” he rumbles, his voice like molten velvet, sending shivers racing down your spine. The sound of him, the depth of his tone, makes your body respond instinctively—your pussy clenches with anticipation, aching for him to fill the emptiness inside you. “It’s been a long time for me, too. So, I’m sorry if I don’t last long…”

You shake your head, silencing his concern with a gaze that speaks louder than words. You need him, now. The heat between you both is unbearable, every second a sweet kind of torture. You guide the head of his cock to your entrance, teasing yourself by gliding him along your folds, feeling his hardness slick against your wetness, sending delicious tremors through your body.

Slowly, you position him at your opening and sink down.

The stretch is exquisite—a burn that ignites every nerve as he fills you inch by glorious inch. He’s thick, and the sensation of him sliding deeper feels like nothing you’ve ever known. Your breath catches in your throat, and you swear you hear him curse under his breath, his grip on your hips tightening as he savors the feel of your walls closing around him.

“Fuck…,” he groans, his voice wrecked, vibrating through you like a shockwave. “So damn tight.”

“Yeah…” you pant, your head spinning, your body adjusting to his size. Inch by agonizing inch, until finally, he’s fully seated inside you. You pause, trembling, your insides fluttering as he twitches deep within. You let out a soft moan, your lips searching for his in a fevered kiss, one that feels more like a collision than anything tender.

When you pull away, your gaze locks with his, your voice barely above a whisper. “You feel so fucking good… like you’ve always belonged there.”

He hums in response, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure as he traces your body with his hands, unable to take in enough of you. “You’re perfect,” he breathes, the words low and reverent.

Bracing your hands on his broad shoulders, you lift yourself slowly, your body trembling with anticipation. Then, with a burst of need, you slam down, impaling yourself on his cock, a scream of pleasure ripping from your throat. Namjoon moans, the sound guttural and raw, as you ride him with renewed vigor, losing yourself in the rhythm.

Your breasts bounce with each thrust, catching his attention, and without hesitation, his hands move to cup them. His lips trail down to one nipple, his mouth warm and eager as he takes it between his lips. You gasp at the sensation, a surge of heat flooding your core, and you feel a gush of wetness coat him as your body responds to his touch. You didn’t realize you’d come until the tremors hit, your pussy clenching tightly around him, your body quivering in waves of pleasure.

His tongue circles your nipple, flicking it gently before his teeth graze the sensitive bud, and the sensation sends you spiraling. Your breath stutters as he switches to your other breast, his hands roaming, kneading your skin, every touch heightening the electricity between you. Just as his mouth closes around your other nipple, his teeth accidentally bite down harder than intended, and a sharp cry escapes your lips—his name, ripped from your throat like a plea and a curse all at once.

He freezes, eyes wide, concern flashing across his face. But the look you give him—wild, consumed with lust—tells him everything he needs to know.

“I’m so fucking sorry—,” he gasps, but his words barely register through the haze of pleasure clouding your mind. Your gaze softens, your eyes half-lidded with desire, a gentle delirium swirling in their depths.

“No, no, it was good, Joonie,” you whisper, your voice a breathy melody. Your hand drifts to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in the damp strands of his hair, tugging lightly. “I loved it.”

He pauses, a chuckle rumbling from deep within his chest, and you feel the twitch of his cock still buried inside you, a silent promise of more. His lips descend to your chest again, worshipping your skin with slow, languid kisses. His tongue finds your nipple, teasing it with a delicate flick before sucking, nipping just enough to make you moan his name, the sound a song on your lips.

Your body trembles, another orgasm crashing over you like a summer storm, your walls tightening around him in waves of bliss. He groans, a low, primal sound vibrating through your entire being. “Fuck, you—” His voice breaks with need as he rises from the bed, lifting you effortlessly, his body still entwined with yours. In one swift motion, he turns and lays you back down, pressing you into the sheets, his hips surging forward with raw intensity.

“This fucking pussy,” he growls, the words so feral, so laced with hunger that it sends a jolt of heat through you, your toes curling as your body responds to the deep, relentless thrusts. You moan, overwhelmed by the sensation of being pushed up the bed, your fingers gripping the sheets in desperation. Could you come again? Already, your body is teetering on the edge, caught in the rhythm of his passion.

He leans down, his breath hot against your ear. “You look so gorgeous, baby,” he rasps, each word dripping with lust as his hips drive into you again, leaving you breathless, your chest heaving as though all the air has been stolen from your lungs.

“Are you gonna come again?” he asks, his voice rough with need. You bite your lip, uncertain if you can, but the fire in your core tells you otherwise. Your hand slips between your bodies, fingers seeking out your clit. Everything is so slick, so impossibly wet, but you manage to find that perfect rhythm, circling the sensitive nub as your breath hitches in your throat.

It’s like the tide pulling you under—a tidal wave of pleasure crashing over you with blinding force. Your orgasm overtakes you, your body shaking beneath him as you cry out his name, each syllable a desperate plea, a prayer to the god of ecstasy. You thrash beneath him, lost in the throes of release, and still, he keeps thrusting, deep and deliberate, as your body flutters around him, the aftershocks rippling through you.

“Fuck, that was so hot,” he groans, his voice thick with desire as his cock twitches inside you, on the edge of release. “I’m not gonna last much longer.” With a final, powerful thrust, he spills into you, his warm seed filling you as his orgasm hits him hard, his body trembling with the force of it. His face—god, it’s beautiful in this moment—the way his lips part, how his brow furrows in pleasure, how he keeps moving, riding out the last waves of his climax until he begins to soften inside you.

Both of you are left panting, gasping for air like you’ve surfaced from the depths of the sea. He collapses beside you, pulling you close, your bodies still warm, still trembling. Your chests rise and fall in sync, the silence between you heavy with shared satisfaction.

“That was amazing,” he murmurs, his voice a soft rasp against your ear.

You chuckle, cheeks flushed and glowing. “Yes… we should definitely do that again.”

He turns on his side, his fingers brushing your arm tenderly as he gazes at you, eyes filled with warmth. “We really should.”

But then, out of nowhere, a ripple of anxiety courses through you, tightening your chest. You turn to him, your heart suddenly heavy. “Can we really make this work?” you ask, your voice small, vulnerable. “You, being a merman… and me, human?”

Namjoon’s expression softens, his gaze tender as he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose. His hands trace soothing circles along your back, grounding you in the moment. “Yes,” he whispers, his voice filled with quiet certainty. “Don’t worry, baby. We’ll make it work. We have to.”

In his arms, wrapped in the warmth of his embrace, the world feels possible again.

→ Taglist: @allie-is-a-panda @jeonsbabygirlsworld @bangtannie7 @suker4angst → Disclaimer: the banner is obviously partly made with AI— I just want to point that out, to clear the air. I’d normally never use AI in my work, but for this specific fantasy series, I just came up really sort with making them myself with pre existing images of bangtan 😭 Because I want a certain aesthetic (no, a moodboard is not what I was looking for), I decided to use AI to crunch out the merman— I did not, and I repeat this, I did not write any of their names for the prompts, which is also why I do not want to show any faces in these banners, because I know how the guys feel about making AI with them, and I agree. Which is why, this is in short just generically made images that are prompted by a scene in the story. In the end, I still made the banner— did retouching, color grading, added and/or removed stuff, added background etc. Just to let you know. Normally, all my banners and graphics are made by me, unless otherwise stated! (lol, what I mean here is that I’m making them myself, I still sometimes use stock photos and vectors made by others in my work (the banners)). → Author’s note(2): Only four mermaid stories left now! 🥳I hope you’ll like the other ones as well, and please let me know what you liked; you’re always welcome to leave me a comment, a reblog or an ask 🥰 Thank you so much for reading, love you 💜

[jacevelaryonswife]

Supermassive Black Hole

A duo project changes some perceptions about your classmate

pairing: Michael Gavey x fem!reader

warnings: smut, period tipical misoginy (2006 guys), loss of virginity, english is not my first language.

word count: 3,297

ewanverse masterlist

When a firm knock came from the door, a name automatically entered your mind.

Gavey.

Michael Gavey.

You imagined that he would come to your meeting eventually, you actually longed to, although you didn't admit it. That idiot deserved to be put in his proper place — which was necessarily below you.

It had all started when a duo project was designated by draw earlier that day, and for both luck and bad luck your partner was the awkward genius, and difficult to deal with Michael Gavey.

There was no shortage of adjectives to be used for the unstable dirty blonde, which was truly fascinating. He intrigued you with his sharp intellect and his eccentric personality to the same extent that he repelled you with his peculiar and almost aggressive way. He was quite a figure, although you didn't allow yourself to think much about it.

It was also not a mystery that he was a true Norman No Mates, which wasn’t difficult to understand since his social skills were disastrous. The memory of him screaming at Oliver Quick in O Week never left your mind, especially the sudden change of attitude when he lowered his head and responded to the sum that Felix's pet (as your friends called him) made. You watched the whole situation closely, with a lot of curiosity, since your tables were close.

After that, whenever he entered an environment, you wondered what he would do next. You never knew what to expect from Gavey.

He started fervent debates during classes, demonstrating unparalleled intelligence and self-confidence, in addition to a slight arrogance that made him look strangely hot. Obviously a dispute of nervous male egos originated from these discussions, which made you watch with veiled fun and irritation while remaining silent. You admired the way his brain worked for math, but you didn't understand how he could be so bad at dealing with other people.

Because of this, you chose to keep a considerable distance from the horizon of events that involved Michael and his complexity, and for a long time this worked perfectly well. Until that damn moment.

Feeling humiliated by the way that insolent worm acted when trying to take responsibility for the whole activity for yourself, as if you were incompetent and incapable, you immediately confronted him about such behavior when he went to your meeting at the end of the class while you collected your material.

"Excuse me?" You asked.

"I'll finish this by Saturday, no need to worry," he repeated condescendingly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Do you think I won't participate? Or did you just choose to pretend that I don't exist?" You asked with your eyebrows furrowed, posture becoming more imposing.

He remained silent for a short moment, seeming to analyze the situation (or the best answer to it, you couldn't tell). He wasn't used to being so reluctant to say what he thought, so it was a surprise to see him using time to devise something.

"I don't like working in group, I thought it would be faster if I did everything," he looked down quickly, running away from your gaze.

"I also don't like working with other people and I didn't even think about excluding you," you replied.

“Of course you don't.” There it was. The veiled arrogance that you so hated, present in most of your classmates.

Few were your STEM classmates, since your class was mostly composed of resentful boys who did not know how to deal with a woman without seeing her as a less intelligent object. Luckily not everyone was like that and you managed to put together a really cool group.

When all you did was send a cold and angry look, Michael cleared his throat and tried to speak again, but you cut him off impatiently. "When you're less asshole look for me again, I think you have my Myspace."

Who did that little shit think it was to treat you like that? 'Of course you don't' He was so fucking pretentious! And that's because he almost couldn't keep eye contact for a long time.

Pathetic.

That skinny nerd tormented your thoughts for the rest of the afternoon and served as gossip between your friends. Predictable. The way he acted was not very different from what you imagined about his annoying self-sufficiency. And even so, there he was, stopping in front of your door (more nerdy than ever) with his laptop and notebook in hand, wearing a blue button striped shirt, black belt and cream pants. He had a terrible taste in clothes, although they totally reflected his personality, he was curious.

“I'd like to apologize for my behavior earlier, it wasn't cool,” he started as soon as you leaned carelessly against the door.

Interesting.

You considered it for a moment, looking at him before turning his back and clearing the way for him to enter your space. "It wasn't that hard, was it?" You pulled a chair for him and threw yourself dramatically on the bed before sitting down to face him, already well established and looking closely at your figure. "So... I assume you've already thought about the structure of the project."

Of course he had thought.

He opened the laptop and exposed his idea while showing some calculations in his notebook, and you made an effort to pay attention to what was said and what was sketched. Obviously his idea was good, great actually, incredibly structured and cohesive with what the professor wanted. But you also had some ideas and would like them to be taken into account, telling you what you had planned. Surprisingly, he showed to consider your suggestions, even praising them — you knew they were good, but not that his ego allowed you to visualize this. You suggested a division of parts that would be meticulously checked in a future meeting.

"As you have already started, I thought about staying with the second part, what do you think?" You asked.

"It's okay, I intend to finish tomorrow maybe, I'll forward some references by email to you."

“Sure.” It was all very bureaucratic and direct. You sneaked up to look at his laptop screen before looking at what he was typing. "I have some of these books here, but I'll look for the others."

And without realizing it, you got into a big problem.

The freshness that radiated from him flooded your senses gradually, looking too long at his neck and jaw...

He had such beautiful features and aquiline dirty blonde hair that it looked so soft. And those hands... those long fingers... no, no, no and no. You (your body) couldn't be heating up to Michael Gavey.

But it's been a while since some fun... and you were at a suggestive time of the month. Maybe... just maybe... It wasn't a bad idea. As you returned to sitting on the bed, specifically next to where his chair was, you analyzed him as he typed the references in the email. He was not bad looking, no, quite the opposite in fact.

He was handsome, really handsome. And you wanted him. You wanted Michael Gavey.

You wanted to fuck him.

Fuck that attitude.

But how? How would you approach that nervous nerd?

Your mind struggled to develop an effective approach. You didn't want to waste time, not with the heat that spread high between your legs. You just waited for him to send the damn email and close the laptop. "Do you want anything to drink?"

“I'm good. I think we ended up here, I'll try to finish my part quickly," he looked at the notebook that was on the pillow, which you anticipated to pick up and deliver it, standing up in a false farewell.

"Sure," and as soon as Michael got up with the notebook and laptop, you held his arms, gently removing the objects while placing them on your study table. "But I don't think you should go now," you used without a more seductive tone while holding his shoulders.

"What are you doing?" He asked still, tense, looking directly into your eyes.

“Are you dating someone?” You asked softly, getting closer, leaning your breasts against his chest.

"No, I'm not," he answered the obvious, but you wanted to hear the obvious with all the lyrics.

Stretching a short distance from his lips, you asked: "So can I kiss you?"

That same look seen earlier was present again, as if his mind worked hard to find a solution to the problem presented. His mouth opened minimally when he took a deep breath, this time his gaze fell on your lips. "Why do you want to kiss me?"

"Because I fucking want it."

And then you collided your lips with his in a demanding kiss that took a long time to be reciprocated, but when it was... oh boy. Michael held your waist and tried to keep up with your rhythm. He wasn’t so experienced, but his lips were soft and pleasant against yours, kissing you with so much enthusiasm that it made you dizzy.

It made you both dizzy.

He couldn't believe was happening — and that it was happening to you. You... gorgeous, sexy and intelligent. You with a nice and phenomenal ass, who he believed would never look at him twice. You, who kissed him on the tongue and moved his hands to your chest and ass and smoothed the back of his neck and massaged his shoulder. He'd never been kissed like that before. Had never touched a girl like that.

What the fuck was going on?

With the deepening of the kiss you felt a hardness to press against your belly, inhibiting a conscious smile while Michael struggled between apologizing or pretending that it was not happening. Fortunately, you didn't intend to let that be ignored. Your hand slid from the nape of his neck until it reached the increasing bulge, gently squeezing over his pants, making him moan against your lips. You squeezed again before breaking the kiss.

"I don’t wanna just kiss tonight."

Fuck. He couldn't believe what was going on.

He felt that he would cum right there if your hand kept rubbing his cock.

"Are you sure?" He asked uncertainty, still not convinced that you really wanted him that way. It was so fucking sudden, one minute he was collecting his things to leave and the next he was kissing you.

"All the certainty in the world, and you?" You sang against his lips.

"I-" that would be fucking embarrassing, you would laugh at him, "I want to but- I never-"

Oh. It wasn’t different from what you expected.

"It's okay, seriously, there's no reason to worry about it."

“... are you fucking me or something?” He asked weakly, looking at your beautiful face with lust, seriousness and insecurity. You've never seen him so vulnerable.

"Of course not, I want you Michael, I want that, but if you feel you're not comfortable we don't n-"

"I want that."

“Are you sure?”

“I'm fucking sure.”

He felt a chain of confidence run through his body and leaned over to kiss you. You wasted no time unbuttoning his shirt, groping his newly exposed soft torso. Michael almost sighed when receiving your soft touch, pulling the blouse out of your body and coming across exposed and already hardened breasts.

Fuck.

He almost moaned. They were the first tits he saw in person, it was more than exciting. He held them immediately, massaging, squeezing, experiencing...

"Not like that," you held his hands gently.

"Sorry, I never-"

“It's okay.”

Your hands landed on the belt and unbuttoned it, continuing to unbutton the pants that were urgently removed by him while you discarded your own and hovered only in panties, watching him get rid of the shoes as well. Michael had little time to get used to your half-naked figure, since with a mischievous smile, you slowly lowered your panties and left it accumulated on the floor. He felt his neck and face burn and cock pulse with your vision, contemplating for too long.

You touched him over his black underwear, feeling him hard and big, making him moan.

"I won't last long if you keep fucking touching me like that," he took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

"So why haven't you taken that off yet?" You shook his head, teasing him, watching him almost tear off his underwear and show off his cock in all splendor. He was packing, bigger than you expected, all pink, beautiful and anxious. “You have such a nice body,” you kissed him lazily, anticipation thrumming through you.

Michael felt himself in the clouds with your body pressed to his without any layer of fabric, but a big wave of anxiety hit him when you walked away to get a condom before gently guiding him to bed. “Relax, let me take control,” no foreplay would be necessary when you were already wet enough to receive it. "Take a deep breath and calm down, it's quite intense, try to be distracted by something else," you adjusted the condom to its length and saw it almost shake. That boy wouldn't last a minute.

He followed your instructions and concentrated as much as possible not to cum fast, holding firmly on your hips but nothing prepared him for your wet and hot folds.

Fuck, not even the best handjobs compare to your tight pussy going down on his cock. He moaned loudly when you rested against his groin, staring at where your bodies connected.

You bit your lips and closed your eyes, feeling deliciously full. He was bigger than average and had a delicious thickness that you would love to squeeze on your walls just to see him have a spasm, but I knew it would be too much for the beginning.

"When you want me to move, just say it."

Oh no, no! He was sure he would end up there even if you moved. "Don't move yet," he replied quickly, "Fuck," he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

It was terribly satisfying to see him all vulnerable and red, without the usual arrogance and weirdness, and even better to have him inside you (albeit for a short time presumably). He thought about all the things he heard about sex all his life in those long seconds, filtering out what seemed more credible and useful. Think of something less sexy. It was fucking hard.

“Move.”

“Enjoy baby,” you slid gently up, resting your hands on his chest as you started an experimental and slow rhythm. “Mmm.”

So damn good.

Your juices made the movements easy and smooth, leaving him breathless whenever he was balls deep. The friction generated by the constancy of the movements made you two moan and the tightness on your waist increased. He was a fucking vision with disheveled hair, half-open mouth and crooked glasses, all docile while he was fucked dumb. The feeling of power over such an intelligent man was as exciting as sex, causing a presumptuous smile on your lips when you leaned over to kiss his milky neck, rubbing your body against his.

“Are you enjoying it?” You purred against his skin, kissing him superficially on the lips.

He was in the fucking clouds. And you knew that. Little shit.

He wrapped your body to move his hips against yours. He couldn't hold it anymore, he needed to cum. "I won't last long."

“It's okay, baby.”

Your tits jumped when you started riding it hard at a terrifying pace. He closed his eyes and felt his balls weigh every time you sat on his cock, holding your waist, your tits, your ass, everything you could while you allowed it.

"Fuck- I'm-" he moaned loudly and released his load on the condom, feeling a mind-blowing pleasure that paralyzed his senses and one pulled into a supermassive black hole. A thin layer of sweat covered his body, illuminating the reddish tone that covered it.

So beautiful.

Coming out of the top, you lay comfortably next to him, supporting a part of your peso on his chest while watching him struggling to stabilize his breathing. He still couldn't believe that it had finally happened, and especially with a girl like you.

“Are you here?” You asked after a while with a fun smile, although warm between his legs. He didn't know if he was, but he replied with a panting 'yes'. "Well, because we're not done yet."

What?

“What?” He asked.

“Sex is a two-way street baby, and I haven't come yet,” you purred softly against his ear, biting the lobe.

"I don't know when I'm going to get hard again," he confessed. Well, his brain was working again.

"You don't have these long fingers for nothing, Michael, and if you want it again you'll fuck me with them."

As much as he was affected by a sudden one, his sharp senses were awakened in the implication of a next time. He faithfully believed that hard work would lead him to maximum success in his life, he could not imagine otherwise in this situation. "How should I do that?"

You purred, taking his right hand and guiding it to your wet center. "Always start here if you want to make a girl cum," you circled your bud with his fingers, enjoying the delicious feeling, showing him the place before going down to your entrance. "Start with one finger, then add another."

He followed your instructions firmly, sticking a long finger and pumping slowly. "Not so slow," you bit your lower lip, somewhat impatiently waiting for the development of a slow orgasm. You needed to cum hard. Taking his hand, you held your middle finger and attached it to your index finger. “Faster.”

And although inexperienced and a little strong sometimes, his fingers felt fucking good on your walls, reaching the sweet point that made your feet's fingers curl. “Keep going, mm.”

"Can I kiss you?"

“Yes.”

Michael collided his lips on yours in a kiss full of tongue and teeth, staying on top while he fucked you with his fingers. He was hypnotized by the sounds you were making, by the warmth of your body, by the taste of your mouth...

“I'm close!”

You couldn't believe that that sleeky nerd of all people was giving you such pleasure.

Michael got up abruptly and used the hand that held his weight to circle your clitoris, making your eyes close with the construction of an abrasive orgasm. He pumped faster, watching your body squirm and your back arch.

“Michael- I'm gonna-" your whole body trembled when the coil burst and a hot pleasure flooded your senses, holding the sheets and closing your legs with the strong spasms.

It was the hottest thing he'd ever seen in his life. And he did that. He made you cum. Michael was still very stunned with everything that happened, watching your figure before being pulled to lie next to you. You rested your head on his chest with a satisfied and tired smile, giving light kisses on his skin, relaxed with the post-orgasm fog.

“Did you like it?” You asked to break the ice.

"You've already asked better questions," he joked with a hoarse laugh, "Of course I fucking liked it."

“Mmm, I like to make sure,” you replied, facing his beautiful blue eyes behind the slightly blurred lenses.

Having your body so close (and with everything that happened) Michael felt his cock contract and a new electric current run through his body. "So there's going to be a next time?"

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taglists

general: @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @kravitzwhore @partypoison00

ewanverse: @aemonds-fire @partypoison00 @schniiipsel @fan-goddess @arcielee

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thank you smm @solisarium for the help with this ❤️

[heartfullofleeches]

[+18]

V and fuckboy playboy/wingman male Darling-

Hear me out-

Darling is the son of some other loaded family that has close ties with V's. The two cross paths at a gathering and their parents urge them to make friends. Darling plays video games. V plays video games. They exchange numbers with some persuasion from their folks and set up a time to play something together although begrudgingly on V's end. V ends up having a better time than he expected, but right before he really starts to enjoy his time with Darling - he tells V he has to head out.

"Nice meeting you, dude. We gotta do this again. I got a girl coming over and I gotta bounce."

And just like that V's hopes are crushed. He's still learning about his attraction towards guys, but - Darling was sorta cute....

"oh....so you have a girlfriend."

Darling laughs.

"Nah, man. Haven't found the right girl...or guy to tie me down yet, plus I'm just enjoying the single life for now.... I can send pics after we're done if you want. She's totally chill and likes when I show her off."

Pictures?.... V agrees - thinking not much of it. He goes back to playing and eventually it slips from his mind. Hours later he receives photos of what looks to be a topless girl in a dimly lit room. She smiles big at the camera - eyes and upper face blocked from sight by the shaft of the bastard with her cheek pressed to his inner thigh. He still had on the same pair of sweats V had seen him in earlier that day. He only met this guy not even twenty-four hours ago and now he's seen his dick. Even worse - there's a pretty girl with her lipstick and spit all over it in the same picture. V's pissed - yet the image magically appears in one of his porn holders later on."

"what the hell...."

"My bad! I thought you might like it. You don't seem like a guy who gets a lot of action... If you ever want to meet someone, just give me a call. I know a lot of people who'd be interested in a rich brat like you."

This guy.... he acts like he's any different. V thinks Darling is a freak to put things lightly, but its not like he has other people to hang out with. As the two hang out V sees that Darling isn't as bad as he first seemed. He's still a horny, inconsiderate prick most days - but he's still the best thing V has to a friend and cares for V in his own way..... Still sends V dick pics he sweats were for someone els.

Darling is genuinely surprised that V has never been with someone. Sure, he doesn't seem like he gets that much attention, but he was sure V had at least kissed someone once. The topic comes up when Darling tries for the hundredth time to hook with up with one of his flings. He's always sending V evidence of the nights he spent with strangers. Oddly enough - V only ever complains about the videos and photos when they don't have darling in them as well.

"Damn.... I know you're a pain in the ass sometimes, but you're cute I thought somebody would've looked past that.....

V hates with Darling says shit like that. He's not used to people flirting with him and... and it gives him false hope. "Shut up....

"So, think she's cute? I can give her your number~"

"I don't want it."

This sucks.... By now, V's fully aware of his crush on Darling - and he fucking hates the bastard for what he's doing to him. If Darling is so concerned about him seeing people why doesn't he just take V out instead. He jerks off to everything Darling sends him wondering when he'll get his turn. V has some solace in the fact Darling rare sees any of his partners twice. V has been with him and always will be with him longer than any of them have. He just has to be patient.....and ruin any chances Darling has of being with anyone else.

V nearly jumps out of his skin reading one of Darling's numerous drunken texts.

"Hey, man. Totally speaking out my ass here, but would you ever be down to have a threesome sometime ;)"

[nothorses]

I hope this is okay to ask but I’m pretty desperate and googling stuff has failed me, so do you or one of your followers have recommendations on how to deal with the BO that comes with taking testosterone? I never had BO that couldn’t just be managed by showering enough and putting on just any deodorant but now that I’m taking T I sweat a lot and I smell bad and I nothing I do seems to fix it. My boss has politely mentioned it several times now despite all my effort and it’s so mortifying and embarrassing.

Things I’ve tried and am currently doing include so many different deodorants which I bring to work and reapply, putting baking powder in my shoes, on top of general basic hygiene. But none of it seems to make a dent and it doesn’t help that I can’t really change clothes or shoes throughout the day. I have to wear closed toed shoes and a lab coat and my job is pretty active, plus it’s 10 minutes walk from the parking lot and it’s over 100F or 40 C right now so when I arrive at work I’m already pouring sweat. I also have a large chest so it all gets under my bra and soaks into it and by the end of the day the bottom part of my bra reeks.

I know some ocasional BO on a busy day can’t be helped but none of the other people at work including other male coworkers seem to have the same issue at all, so there’s got to be a solution but I haven’t found it. Im thinking of trying antiperspirants but I also know I need to sweat and I would rather not put my health at risk. So if anyone has something that works for them please let me know bc im really desperate here.

First I want to say: you're not doing anything wrong. You probably just sweat more than some other folks, and that's not your fault, and you shouldn't feel bad about it. I'm gonna give you some ideas to try if you haven't yet, but I don't know how much you've already tried, and it sounds like you've been through a lot already.

I also have always had terrible BO, and the only thing that helped at all pre-T was "prescription strength" deodorant. I honestly have had less of an issue since starting T, weirdly enough, but part of that is also that I physically cannot stand to shower any less frequently than every single morning (not necessarily a good thing lol), and I also started using antibacterial products on my armpits when I shower.

Currently I use benzoyl peroxide body wash on my armpits, which can be drying, but it hasn't caused me issues so far (just look for Panoxyl, other brands have caused irritation for me and my partner both). I used Betadine surgical scrub before that for a bit (you collect weird shit when you work with horses 🤷‍♂️) and that worked well, too- plus it's less likely to irritate skin.

I also find that certain shirts cause me to sweat there more, and those also tend to be the more form-fitting shirts that get up into my armpits. That skin def needs to breathe.

My partner has had trouble with feet/shoes in the past, and he's used cedar shoeforms to mitigate that (cedar is also antibacterial!). He also makes sure any shoes he gets are breathable (not leather), and if they are leather, he gives them at least a day or two between wears. Probably good practice if you notice any kind of smell on any of your shoes.

You mention baking powder, and I'm not sure if you meant baking soda and just mixed them up (which I do all the time lmao) but just in case: if you are using baking powder, the one you want is baking soda.

I don't have much advice for chest sweat, except that you may want to consider bringing an extra bra (and maybe an extra pair of socks if you're noticing it before the end of the day) to change into midway through the day. You can also look for more breathable fabrics in general, especially athletic-wear, which is already designed to help wick sweat and mitigate those issues.

Lastly, I want to stress again that you're not doing anything wrong. Some people have more trouble with this than others, and if you're really struggling in a way nobody around you is, it may be that you've got something going on in your body that they don't have to deal with. This could be a medical thing as well (like acne!!), and there's no shame in seeking medical solutions for it. Talk to your doctor if you can; it sounds like it's causing you distress, and you deserve to be comfortable.

[bakugoushotwife]

gym partners

a/n: this was a hot hot hot request! i hope you gojhoes love it as much as i do <3

pairing: satoru gojo x fem!reader

cw: pining lol, pervy gojo, scheming gojo, blowjob, mentions of oral fem receiving.

wc: 4.3

He knew exactly what he was doing. Inviting you over to work out in his private home gym after hearing you complain about the facility you had been attending since graduation. Satoru Gojo wasn’t subtle in the slightest, you were convinced he didn’t know what that meant. He’s been shamelessly flirting with you since your first meeting all those years ago in the classrooms of Jujutsu Tech, and it seemed graduating from school wouldn’t stop him from trying to impress you out of your pants. Maybe it was because you were so nice to him, never faulting him for his arrogance or annoying tendencies. It didn’t hurt that you were ridiculously beautiful, and your techniques were truly awe-inspiring. Maybe it was because despite all this, you played hard to get with him for some reason. 

It was fate that made you both teachers at the same school you used to attend, for it gave him ample opportunity to pester you more. He  overheard you telling Shoko about the athletic facilities being inadequate and the amount of male attention that you earned. He wasn’t so fond of the latter statement, though he knew it to be true. You were a total smokeshow, any man would be winning the lottery to cart you around on his arm, the perfect duo of insane talent and looks. He almost thinks it’s unfair until he considers that he himself is also the same way, selfishly enough. Though ever since that day, he can’t help but let his brain go wild thinking of all the ways he could make you his in his home gym, if only you’d jump on the opportunity. 

Your relationship with Satoru was…complex at best. You had been friends and training partners since you met in your first year at Jujutsu Tech, seemingly the only person other than Suguru Geto who could not only withstand–but enjoy–his presence. And then Suguru was gone, so it left you as all he had. Boy was he determined to prove it, to keep you as his person for life. He was the closest thing to a friend you had, aside from Shoko now that you’ve started teaching. 

There was definitely something more to the connection, at least you thought. Banter was seamless, working together on missions only showed the sorcerer world the best team imaginable, and he tirelessly worked to spend more time with you. You were only apprehensive because of your own massive crush on him. It may seem counterintuitive, especially if you think he could like you too, but you kept convincing yourself that it was your own brain playing tricks on you, making you see more to the story when there really wasn’t. He was probably trying to be friendly with you, and as badly as you wished you could have that, you know you could never settle for it. You would always selfishly desire him in more ways, not that you’re the only one. You know every man, woman, and everyone in between or outside of those definitions did a double take anytime he walked by. Anyone who’s anyone wanted him, and you would never be able to blame them. So you shot him down at every invitation to spend time together one on one, avoiding him anytime you knew that you would be alone. 

So imagine your surprise when he knocks on the door of your classroom and slides inside before you can respond, just the two of you. Alone. With Satoru Gojo. You look up from your papers, your focused gaze meeting the familiar, friendly, and fiery blue gaze of the one and only strongest man alive, even with the blindfold obscuring your view of him. He grins, and you look back down at the stack of History of Jujutsu Technique assignments. He chuckles, pulling a wooden chair away from a desk and dragging it behind him as he struts to your table. The sounds of the wooden legs screech along the tile floor until you can detect his frame towering over your desk, feeling his snarky eyes burning holes into your head. 

“Miss Y/N! Long time no talk. If I didn’t know any better–” He says, the amusement in his voice evident as he spins the chair around to straddle, leaning his lanky arms over the back. His blindfold kept the emotion in his eyes guarded, but his smile was bright white–and clearly teasing you. “I would think that you were avoiding your dear old pal, Satoru!” 

You hum in fake confusion, looking up at him with a furrowed brow. “Avoiding you? Oh no, never. I’ve just been so busy lately. All these papers, decorating the apartment, I got a cat recently and I–”

“Started going to the gym, a little birdie named Shoko told me. She says you hate the one you go to, though. How unfortunate.” His features are as smug as ever, and you know instantly that Shoko didn’t tell him a thing. “I imagine she told me out of the kindness of her heart, for our dear friend knows that I happen to have a state of the art, top notch, extremely expensive, home gym!” 

You narrow your gaze up at him. You may not be able to see his eyes through the blindfold, but you knew that he could see yours. He could see everything about you, except for  emotions, thankfully. “Shoko did not tell you that I started working out.” 

“No, she didn’t!” He admits without shame, leaning forward on his propped up hand, his smile unfaltering. “I just happened to overhear, but the fact remains! I can help.” 

“I…work out pretty early, you know our schedule, I just don’t think I could impose.” You smile at him politely, shifting your weight in your seat. He was bringing you dangerously close to revealing the truth. You yearned for him so bad, he had to feel it. Knowing Satoru, you wouldn’t put that past him. An invitation to come to his home every day and work out was nearly too good to pass up, yet you knew that if you jumped at the chance, you wouldn’t be able to deny yourself from crossing other boundaries as well. 

He tilts his head at your reasoning, his jaw tightening and the corners of his mouth twitching. “So do I, like you said, Our schedule. Really, it’s no trouble! I’m sure you’d feel safer in my home, anyway. No pervs, except for me of course.” He chuckles so boisterously that you almost think he’s genuinely joking. You start to nervously chuckle with him when he leans his chest against the chair, his face sneaking closer to yours. “I’ll even get us breakfast on the way to school. C’mon, Y/N…that’s an offer too good to refuse.” 

So you don’t. You find yourself driving to Satoru’s ridiculously expensive penthouse in Tokyo on a Tuesday morning, in your best workout attire and a nervous fluttering heart. You had to admit yourself at the gate via pin, one that he bestowed upon you the other day in your classroom. The house sat atop a secluded hill, and even from the bottom of the driveway, you could see a bright light shining in these early hours of the morning. It seems that he wasn’t lying, he really did work out early. To most, it may seem a bit extraneous to work out on top of training and running missions alongside being a teacher, but it was something that cleared your head in the mornings and allowed you to take some peace in your day. Though it seemed that idea was far abandoned. You park your car and stare at the expensive home. You knew the Gojo heir was loaded, but you didn’t know it was to this extent. He told you to just come in when you arrived, so you did, even though the house was shrouded in darkness, you squinted to let your eyes adjust, gasping when the light is flicked on all of a sudden, revealing a shirtless and blindfold-less Satoru Gojo leaning against the wall at the top of the stairs. He was grinning, beefy arms folded across his well defined chest, all enticing your eyes to trail downward. You could only hope your eyes didn’t bulge from your head or that you were openly drooling at the sight of his carved out abdomen, easily sixteen indents rippling through his midsection. You had to shift your weight, thighs rubbing together without even a word. 

His grin grows and his eyes shine brightly, the chlorinated-pool gaze of his zeroing in on your skimpy little outfit. Your sports bra barely contained your chest, and by the way those yoga pants got sucked into your ass…you weren’t wearing any underwear. He licked his bottom lip, pointing behind him with his thumbs. “Good morning, Y/N! Gym’s this way, I’ve been waiting for you to get started.” 

“Good morning Satoru.” You gulp, approaching the staircase. You keep your eyes trained on the steps, unable to look at him for too long. He stifles his chuckle as you grow closer to him, his form partially blocking your way on the steps. He likes to make you nervous, so he doesn’t move out of your way. He stands his ground, humming excitedly when your bare skin brushes against his. 

“Oh Y/N~” He coos seductively, enjoying the blush that creeps up your neck and colors your ears. “Right this way. What type of workouts do you like? We can do anything! Yoga, weight training, cardio, you name it, sweet lady.” He says, the upbeat tone of his voice making you feel like he knew something that you didn’t. He shows you into the room that was already well lit. Your eyes do bulge from your head this time, his home gym was the size of your entire home. He snickers at your reaction, strolling ahead of you and sitting on a bench press chair. He holds his arms out, as if telling you to behold the beauty. “Welcome to the Gojo Dojo.” He jokes. 

You snort a little, nodding as you step into the room. “You know this is bigger than most people’s houses, right?” You ask indignantly, letting your bag fall from your shoulder and into the floor as you survey all the equipment, weights, and mats Satoru had at his disposal. 

He nods proudly. “It can’t be helped, really. I give to charities!” 

You giggle at his defense, shaking your head as you make your way over to a few stretching mats spread out for the two of you. He watches you of course, wondering if you were impressed by his facilities. He can’t help but admire your physique as you set your water bottle down. He hadn’t ever been so enamored before, not even when he really tried to be into other people just to stop thinking of you. You were perfect. Mind, body, and spirit. You really didn’t need to work out at all, and he certainly hoped you weren’t doing it to lose any weight…my god you were absolutely delici—

“Satoru? Did you hear me?” You ask, waving your hand in front of his face with a soft laugh.

He shakes his head. “No, I was fantasizing about how good you look.” He admits without shame, blinking his focus back to your looming frame in front of him. Even when he was sitting, you were only a few inches taller. He lets his eyes skirt over your frame, smirking without pause. 

Your cheeks heat up, and you’re sure you just didn’t hear him correctly. “R-right. I was thinking I’d do some stretches,then work my core. What are you gonna do?” 

He wants to say something else clever to fluster you further, but he decides to take the passive route. You should be able to feel how bad he wants you at this point, his incessant attempts to get you alone, the way he nags you at work and blows your phone up with memes and reddit posts he wanted your opinion on should all be enough aside from his very obvious flirting. Anyone else would have given up, taking you for not being interested, but Satoru knew you better than anyone. He knew that if you weren’t interested in him, you’d say so. You wouldn’t just widen your eyes and brush him off, you must think he’s joking.

Which is why he’s wanted to get you alone for so long. If only he had some one on one time with you, then he could be as bold and vulnerable as he may need to be to win you over. That would come later, for now, he had to let you complete your workout. He nods at your agenda, thinking of the next step in his own routine. 

“Chest. Watch and weep.” He winks, and you quickly turn your back to him to go to your mat. He was too much for you, as anticipated. You could feel your body warm, and you knew he would see it if you turned around. What made you think you could make it through a workout session with Satoru when you could hardly stomach him being in your classroom with no supervision? He just chuckles at you. Maybe his affection was just a bit overwhelming for you, you couldn’t discern if he was messing with you or not, and didn’t want to embarrass yourself in any event. He supposes he could understand, if only you weren’t so stupid. You were the only person he held on a pedestal, the fact that you couldn’t understand how much you meant to him at this point was bordering on clinical insanity. 

He stands up to put his weights on the barbell, not bothering to conceal his watching you. You could feel it, but you figured it would be more embarrassing to stop and confront him over it. So you just continue, folding in half at the hips to touch your toes. He sighs at the sight of your round ass, your poor excuse of a sports bra nearly betraying you here, your fat tits almost spilling out into the floor. He packs the 45 pound plates on, four on each side, clearing his throat loudly. He doesn’t miss the way your head snaps up, shyly averting your gaze once you realize he set a trap for you.

You lay on the mat, you start with some leg raises, tilting your head back far enough to watch Satoru lay back on the bench. He hums to himself, feeling along the bar for his best grip. Once he’s satisfied, he lifts the 405 pounds without any of the effort you’d expect to see from such a heavy weight. He hardly even grunts, though you notice the sweat start to bead on his forehead  as he sets into reps. You’re not sure when your legs fall down, but you can’t help but be mesmerized. The bright lights of the room make the layer of perspiration shine, his chest and abs glistening like he’d been coated in a layer of coconut oil. You bite your lip at the sight, trying to fight the naughty thoughts raiding your consciousness right now. He does eight, ten, twelve reps at that weight before he racks it again, grinning as he senses your eyes on him. He takes about thirty seconds as a little break, deciding to show off a little for you. He starts another set, maybe forcing a few grunts to elicit a soft gasp from you. He’s sure you think he can’t hear you, but he does. He even hears the shakiness of your breath, though he denies himself the simple pleasure of looking at you. 

You’re a mess, and it’s horrifically embarrassing. He hasn’t touched you, he’s hardly looked at you, and he hasn’t even done anything inherently erotic, but you can feel your slick sliding down your thighs as we speak, and your nipples are hardening under your bra, which of course doesn’t conceal a thing. You watch him lift without doing any exercise yourself, embarrassed by the way he works you up without doing a thing. 

“Impressed by this strength, little thing?” He sighs out in between reps, finally racking his weights and standing up to remove them. He smirks at you, trying to pretend like you’ve been doing bicycle kicks the whole time. You’re effortlessly seducing him, just by being here and wearing that. He feels like he’s trying so hard to get your attention. Maybe this is all for naught, he thinks, wiping his face off with the towel hanging around his neck. He hadn’t even planned to work out today, mostly just wanting to be with you in every form of the word. He sighs out when you just groan out an ‘mhm!’ in response. 

“Okay..well.” Satoru says, his voice still pitched to be cheerful but definitely not to the same excitement you were used to hearing. It makes you pick your head up to check what’s wrong, you’re just about to speak on it when the words die in your throat. He’s slid out of his shorts, just standing there in his Hollister underwear, the ones with the short inseams. They make everything about him look even bigger, his broad thighs and long toned legs, and of course, his massive bulge. You nearly moan just from the sight, he’s literally walking sex and rubbing it in your face. “Since you’re noticeably not impressed or into me, I’ll.. stop embarrassing myself and go get showered. I can still take you to school if you want–I owe you breakfast.” 

Your eyes widen. He’s gorgeous, you’re sure you could wash your laundry on his stomach, the light coating of sweat covering his muscles made your mouth water—and what did he mean about you not being impressed or into him? Has he really been flirting with you all this time, and meaning it? You sit up quickly. “Satoru–wait.” 

He stops, the panic in your voice makes hope bubble up in his gut again. He turns on his heels. “Yes, Miss Y/n?” 

Now that his eyes are back on yours, you don’t know how to say what you want to say. How could you possibly put into words how bad you’ve wanted him for years, how you’ve yearned to be more than just the passing and whimsical friendship that you have. How could you tell him that you’ve desired him in your bed since the moment you met him, though how profound was that? Most people did. “I–I’m…well, I just, have…had..” You fluster again, looking down at the yoga mat you’d been laying on. He folds his arms, grinning at your bashfulness. Your confession was coming, it was on the tip of your tongue, he could feel it. 

“You’ve what, baby doll? Been tirelessly in love with me for years? Dreamed of me every single night?” He chuckles at your expense, folding his arms and leaning back against the wall just like he was when you came in. 

So that confirms it. That’s exactly what he wants you to say, what he needs to hear from you. He loves you, wants you more than anything. All his elaborate schemes and shitty pick up lines have been for real, and you’ve neglected them for years. You still don’t know how to communicate this need, this carnal desire you have to be his woman. So you don’t. You huff in embarrassment at yourself, at your inability to ever come outright and say how you feel. It’s going to be the death of you here, the reason you lose the man of your dreams. 

No. No, you tell yourself. If Satoru can be so bold with his declarations of desire for you, then you would return the favor. From head to toe, your body erupts into flames and your body moves on its own. You get to your feet, eyes trained on Satoru’s puzzled blues. You suck your bottom lip into your mouth and shyly look away, sitting back on your knees once you stand a few inches away from him. You look up, blinking thick eyelashes up at him. Your hand reaches up for the waistband of his underwear. 

“I dunno how to say it. So let me show you.” You offer with a shaky breath, cupping the bulge that slowly grew before your eyes. 

It was his turn. His eyes widened in shock, though his hand found itself knitted in your hair immediately. The feeling of your soft and slender hand holding him over his underwear was only driving him crazier. He needed to have your touch, the real one. He nods, pulling your face a little closer. 

“By all means, darling girl. Show me.” His grin is growing closer to the devilish side. You lick your lips and nod again, tucking your dainty fingers under the waistband and tugging them down. You try to contain your excitement as his length slaps up into those gorgeously defined abs of his, but you can tell by the look on Satoru’s face that you fail. He chuckles, your eyes widening in anticipation and your thighs rubbing together like you’re trying to start a fire. 

He was gorgeous, down to every ridge and vein decorating his perfectly arched cock. You were salivating, he was trimmed immaculately, just some short white pubes there to focus on. You sigh, feeling the heat pool between your legs at the same time you lean and reach up to grasp him. He lets a choked gasp go just from your slender fingers wrapping around his base. He has to consciously think about making himself look down at you, not wanting to miss a second of your beautiful face taking him in. You pump him slowly a few times, still taking in his massive length and the pretty bead of precum gathering at his slit. 

“Don’t tease now, god knows you’ve been doing enough of that for six years now.” He groans, pushing his hips forward so that his pre was spread all along your lips. He giggles at the obscenity of it all, and the way your tongue darts out to lick it all up. Goosebumps prickle along his flesh as you bat your eyes up at him and guide his shaft into your waiting warm mouth. He gasps softly at the feeling of your wet walls swallowing him in, the shocking way you swallow him down your throat was enough to have him fighting the urge to cum down your throat already. You were the girl of his dreams, and he’s been having fantasies of you on your knees like this for years. He groans as you start to move, his back falling more flush against the doorframe. 

You moan at his taste, willing yourself to take him all at once. The weight of him on your tongue was comforting and satisfying, and looking up at the way his face contorts in pleasure, you wonder why you did delude yourself for so long. His fingers gently scratch at your scalp, urging you further down his length, his load rapidly approaching at your gags. 

You let go of his base, forcing him down your throat even though tears spring to your eyes from the action. You move your hands to his hips instead, deepthroating all he had to give you. “Such a nasty girl, swallowing all this dick so good.” 

You moan softly at his talk, actually swallowing around him and choking just a bit. He loves it, the sounds you make and the eager way you bob up and down. “Y/N–I’ll cum soon if you don’t stop.” He warns, though you don’t take it as a warning at all. In fact, you only take it as encouragement to keep going, to make up for all the years you could have had together if only you weren’t so scared. You increase your pace, not minding the ache in your jaw as his hands slide down to hold your face. His features are all worth it, his mouth parted in pleasure, eyes scrunched tight as he fucks his hips into your mouth, pubes rubbing against your chin. His load is huge like the rest of him, the hot liquid sliding down your windpipe. He leaves his dick in your mouth for a minute, still grappling with the aftershocks of his nut, realizing this wasn’t a realistic fantasy of his and you were actually on your knees, sucking him dry. He grins down at you, knowing that your lives together were forever changed. You’d have a while to sort that out, all he cared about now was returning the favor, making you feel as good as you just made him feel. His hands gently stroke your cheeks, and you slide off him with a pop, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Your eyes never left his, and he couldn’t tear himself away either. 

Your heart pounded in your ears, and you knew this meant big changes for your previously platonic relationship. “Pretty girl, god I’m so glad you did that…let me make you feel good too, please?” He asked, the whine at the end so desperate you could hardly believe Satoru Gojo was begging you to eat your pussy. 

“I–I’m sweaty, it’s not as bad for dick..” You giggle shyly, unable to look at him and say such a thing. 

“I have a shower. C’mon. We have time.” He wiggles his brows, stepping out of his underwear entirely. His hands pull you back to your feet, keeping his hold on you as he directs you to the shower.

[dxxdhood]

Okayyyyyy your sub!Wade Wilson fic literally destroyed me and I need like a million more consider yourself my new dealer

(If reqs are open can I get uhhhhh Wade Wilson where he's needy but has no idea what he wants so reader has to shut his brain off and figure it out for him pls and thanks)

hi anon, i love this idea so much omg! i may have played around with it a bit but i think i still kept the same core idea. i went with fem! reader on this, but if you want a similar request with gn! or male! reader, let me know! pls enjoy!!!

rough night

pairing: wade wilson x fem!reader

summary: wade needs your love and attention, and luckily, you're always there to help him out.

tags: smut (18+), sub!wade wilson, dom!reader, dirty talk, praise kink, light bondage, grinding, clothed sex, oral (f receiving), exhibitionism, car sex

wc: 2.0k

“Okay, babe, hear me out: the ending to the stage version of Little Shop is leagues better than whatever deus ex machina crap they had to throw into the last two minutes of the movie. Cowardly movie-goer audiences can not handle true stage-level tragedy–”

“Wade!” You shout, nearly swerving the car as you double check the directions. Past midnight on the freeway after a long day, you barely had the concentration to drive in silence– much less in a car with your partner in it. “Can you help me get us home first before we start arguing over musical movies again. Please?”

Wade hums, tapping his scarred hand against the console, “That’s a big ask, I’m not so sure I can, to tell you the truth. You wanna talk about musical movies? Can we talk about how big The Greatest Showman got when the score is nothing but pop songs? Look, I get the lead actor looks like my crazy-hot new best friend, but the 2010s had way better stuff coming out.”

Turning his head so you could see the shit-eating grin plastered on his face, he whistles a note before speaking. “You missed our exit, by the way.”

“What?” You double check the GPS to make sure he’s not lying. Sure enough, he’s right. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

“Oh, you know. Typical Deadpool, just pissing off everyone around him all the time for no reason,” he chimes in again, and something about his tone sets you off. You speed across the next available ramp, and after the few seconds it takes for you to end up on a deserted road, you stop the car.

Taking a deep inhale, you make sure to hit the inside light so he can see you properly, and you grab the arm still fidgeting next to you. “Wade, what’s up with you?”

His eyes go large, and his expression loses all the mischief immediately. Shaking his head a little, he purses his lips. “Nothing. Nothing’s up.”

“Let’s just get home,” he says after an empty moment, almost like he’s booting up again. “You can yell at me the entire way back, okay? I was being a pain in the ass. I’ll take it lying down, promise.”

Seeing him in the dim, yellow lighting, he’s trying to retreat into his hoodie. He’s pulling away from you even as he speaks, and it makes your stomach turn.

“Let’s–” you start, unbuckling your seatbelt before gripping the door handle.  “Let’s just take a second first.”

You catch a wash of confusion on his face, but you exit the car and walk over to his side before he voices his thoughts out loud. Opening his door, you quickly envelope him in a hug before he can try to pull away again.

You swear you heard a whimper, but it was so quiet, you nearly missed it. Almost instantly, Wade buries his head in your neck, and his arms wrap around your middle tight. 

The two of you stay there, alone, with the gentle sound of crickets chirping in the background for what feels like a small eternity. You know it must have only been a few minutes, because shortly, your thighs burn from the angle you’re bending at, so you gently pull away. You decide not to mention the wetness left on your shirt.

“What do you need?” You ask.

He shakes his head again, but faster this time. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t even know why I was trying to piss you off.”

“Today was fine, right? I thought so, but all of sudden everything felt like it was going to shit. In my head, I just started going around in circles, going over all the little ways I kept fucking up, and – I don’t know – it got to me.” Wade brings a palm to his forehead. “It’s just one of those hate-yourself days, I guess.” 

You nod, taking one of his hands in yours as you stand on the dying grass surrounding the road. Rubbing his palm with your thumb, trying to transfer some of your warmth to him, you’re suddenly met with an idea so good, you can keep inside the chuckle. 

“Sorry, sorry!” You choke. “Not laughing at you, I just– I just think it’s funny where my brain goes.”

“What do you mean?” He looks up at you with pupils so big, you just want to go back to squeezing him. 

“Well, we’re all alone out here.”

You can almost see the loading screen in Wade’s mind when he breaks out in a laugh. “No way, I finally found someone worse than me.”

“Would you want to?”

He’s nodding before he can even process, but after a second a frown sets in. “You know I’m always down to clown around, but I’d just be a burden right now. I’m all sad and icky and touchy-feely. I don’t even know what I–”

“You want me to handle it?” you interrupt. “I’ll just do stuff we’ve liked doing in the past. You don’t have to worry about a thing, I’ll make it all good for you.”

Wade turns his head away, and for a terrifying moment, you believe you’ve made him uncomfortable. But a part of him wins whatever fight is going on eternally, and when he faces you again, a blush coats his cheeks.“You’d do that?”

“You think I’m offering ‘cause I like hearing myself talk?”

“You have the sweetest voice I’ve ever heard,” he smiles, and not having learned anything, you bend down again to kiss him. He responds fast, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek as he pulls you in closer. No matter how much of you he gets, he always finds himself needing more.

You push his hood down and you carefully run your hands across his scalp, cradling his head, as you deepen the kiss. Licking inside his mouth, you feel more than hear a rumble build in his chest.

Breaking away, you pull your sweater off before laying it on the ground in front of the passenger seat. Stepping to the side, you give Wade a second to process before you order him.

“Kneel.”

He definitely mumbles a soft “holy shit” as he slips out of the car and drops to his knees. Briefly, you run your hands across his shoulders, kneading at the intersection between his shoulders and neck, feeling the tense muscle there. Typical Wade to cause problems instead of talking about his own. Just how long was he carrying around all of this tension? Maybe when you’re both home later, at what will probably be the crack of dawn, you can run him a warm bath or give him a better massage.

For right now, you slip past him and sit in the car seat above him. Angled so your legs dangle out the car door opening, you place a hand around the back of Wade’s neck and urge him closer.

“You ready?” You whisper. “You want to eat me out, Wade?”

He buries his head into your thigh at your words as he lets out a groan, “Yes, please, oh my god.”

Grabbing both of your legs, he lifts them onto his shoulder and he already starts to move his head closer in between them.

“Hold on,” you grab one of his hands, interlocking your fingers. “Here, help me move one of my legs off your shoulder and against your dick.”

To his credit, he does, even as he shivers at your words. As he scooches around, trying to get comfortable or maybe just hungry for more sensation already, you feel his cock half hard.

“You’ve been wanting this, huh? Wanting me to boss you around a little,” you whisper, inching your head closer to his so you can whisper in his ear. “Wanting to hear dirty things in my voice?”

“Yes!’ he shouts. “Yes, please! Can I eat you out, babe? I’ll be good!”

“”Course you will be,” you smile. “You’re always so good for me.”

With a little maneuvering around your legs, you manage to slip your shorts and underwear off, accidentally tossing them into the darkness.

Wade frowns, his brow creasing, “No, I haven’t been very good lately–”

On command, you grab his chin and tilt it so his gaze rests on yours. There’s no hiding from your words now. “Don’t say that. Stop talking.”

“You don’t feel good?” you smirk. “Then prove to me right now how good you can really be.”

He needs no further encouragement as he buries his face between your thighs, already licking across you, teasing you even now. His pace is quick, desperate, but he’s still careful to avoid where you need him most.

With one hand perched at the top of his head, you scratch the other down his neck as a warning, but all it does is draw a moan from him. You can feel the vibrations through you, and it causes you to grind across his mouth.

Panting heavily, you decide to even the score. You press your calf up against his hard cock, inching it backwards and forwards, bit by bit, and that’s all it takes for Wade to remember his own needs. Wanting  you already, he slowly grinds against your leg, and though it feels harsh through his pants, from past experience as well as the wet groans filling the air, you’re sure Wade enjoys it.

Suddenly, he decides to circle your clit in earnest, and it draws a loud moan from you. You begin to grind yourself against his tongue, still somehow working you with coordinated movements despite how out-of-control he humps your leg.

His whimpers slip out of him, as if he’s been completely fucked dumb just by getting off on your leg. The power is heady, and you move your hands to his, wrapping them around his wrists and bringing them in front of him to settle right in front of his stomach. Once you’re sure you’ve got a secure grasp, you bring one of your hands away to tilt his face up to yours so you can kiss him again.

You taste yourself warm on his lips, and the thought causes even more heat to pool at your core. All too soon, you pull away from him and shove his head back between your thighs. 

“Fuck, Wade, so good. You’re so good for me.”

He’s whimpering right into your core and involuntarily, the hand restraining his wrists clenches. The harshness only turns him on further, and he continues rubbing himself along your leg so quick, you’re sure it must be starting to sting.

“Yeah? You like fucking my leg, Wade? I love seeing you grind on me, sweetheart, you’re so pretty.”

His pace increases, and he starts letting out frequent moans in between the warm breaths he exhales onto you. Your thighs are shaking – his speed for you has never faltered – and you shove his face towards you with the palm against his head.

“I’m gonna come. You wanna be my good boy and come with me, huh?”

At that, he releases a loud groan into your pussy, and you feel yourself coming, dripping onto his already soaked face. At your wetness, his grinding only increases, and after only a few more seconds, Wade finishes, cum seeping from his pants onto your leg. 

The two of you stay silent with only your breaths slowly returning to normal to fill the air. Wade’s eyes are large, gazing at you like you’re all he could ever want, and it’s almost too overwhelming for you to return.

Shakily, he pushes off the ground and makes it to his feet before he stumbles to the side. On instinct, you jump from the seat outside to catch him, your arms wrapped around his waist. You’re still afraid that he’ll fall, but Wade lets out a light giggle.

“If you couldn’t drive us home before, I’ve got no clue how we’re making it back now.”

You lightly slap his arm, “You could be nicer to me after I made you come, bitch.”

He lets out a groan that would sound exaggerated if it came from anyone else, “Shit, call me that next time!”

“Next time I wreck you in the middle of nowhere?” you smirk.

“Just name a time and place.”

[spider-man-199999]

No need to hide it

gif by @userjoel

pairing: college!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader; Post nwh; not too canon

word count: 6K

warnings: underage drinking for USA citizens; mentions of sex

summary: Peter thought no one remembered him after the spell, however you did, but not for the reasons he was afraid you would. Mostly fluff and slow burn romance.

a/n: I'm a sucker for college!Peter, I literally cannot think about anything else. ANY SCIENCE TALK IS A BUNCH OF BS I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT CHEMISTRY OR SCIENCE.

part2

"Hey, catch!" you heard a male voice from somewhere behind you, making you turn towards the sound. A brown leather football flew throgh the air, landing in your feet. You picked it up, throwing it back to the shirtless man that was jogging in your direction.

"Thanks!!" He said after he caught it, running off back to whoever the other shirtless dude he was playing with was.

"Yeah no problem..." you muttered under your breath, trying to hide how flustered you were.

It was orientation week at Empire State University.

The weather, apparently, was still warm enough to have people running shirtless around campus, and being the shy, awkward geek you were, it was hard not to get embarrassed by any social interaction, let alone one that included both sport and a half-naked man. Overall, orientation week was going well. You checked out a few classes that sparked some interest, went to the library, the gym, even got completely settled in your dorm room. Things were going smoothly, excluding the fact you hadn't really met anyone new. Most of the people in your classes seemed like they already knew at least one person and stuck to them. Since you were not really the type to go out of your way and approach people, it left you walking around campus alone, sitting in class alone and even eating alone. It wasn't all that bad, just lonely. Your roommate hadn't arrived on campus yet either, so everything felt especially odd to you, like you were invisible to everyone. 

Four days in and the long walks between buildings were already annoying. It was so easy to get lost or distracted on the way between buildings. You didn't know the shortcuts yet, so it was always a hazard whether you would make it to class on time. Miraculously you got there early, and gave yourself a mental praise for that. You didn't expect to actually be in a lab on the first day of class, and were glad you got there on time because there were barely enough lab coats for everyone in the room. You really didn't want to be the freak who wasn't wearing one. You scanned the room as you sat down on one of the desks, secretly praying that this class wouldn't require having a lab partner or work in groups because it was going to make you feel even worse. And as you were stalking the people around you, your eyes landed on someone who looked suspiciously familiar. He wasn't terribly tall, curly brown hair, one backpack over his shoulder, flannel shirt over a plain white t-shirt and regular blue jeans. You could recognise Peter Parker from miles away. You've never felt so terrified and so excited at the same time. You finally knew someone in this university and it had to be him of all people. He never told you he was going to ESU. In his defense, you couldn't really recall ever speaking to him. You used to have the biggest crush on him back in high school, but never gathered the courage to actually chat him up, even if it were about homework. He never got assigned as your partner on a project either (no matter how many times you would fantasize about it), so you just graduated one day and accepted the fact it just wasn't meant to be. 

But now you were presented with the perfect opportunity to actually talk to him and decided to take it. Unfortunately, the class started before you could approach him. You tried your best to keep your focus on the professor, but it seemed as if that was not necessary, he was only going over the main goals of the class and what books you would need. You sneakily looked over Peter from time to time, thinking about what would be best to say to him and not make it awkward. 

The class was over in the blink of an eye, which made your heart beat pick up because you no longer had an excuse to not approach him. There was a line forming around the coat hangers, which you thought was going to be the best way to casually start a conversation. You cut the line when you saw Peter hang up his coat, putting yours next to his and smiling at him. He smiled back when the two of you locked eyes. 

"Hey" you said "Peter Parker, right?"

He looked a bit stunned by your question. First, he was starstruck because the prettiest girl he had ever seen came out of nowhere and greeted him and secondly, she knew his name. And that was not supposed to be like this at all. His mind was rushing and calculating how it were possible. Were you a supervillain from an alternate reality trying to expose him? Or did the spell just not work on you? All of the scenarios seemed very bad for him. 

The way he just sat there and said nothing was making you extremely nervous. It did feel like a terrible idea now that you had done it. 

"We used to take Spanish together in high school." you added, your voice shaking slightly from the anxiety. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything, I'm really sorr-"

"Wait Spanish?" he finally said, his theories crumbling down when he realized what was actually going on. You were no supervillain, just an old classmate. Yet, he was sure he would have remembered you. 

"I really don't remember..." he continued, feeling his cheek heat up.

"Oh that's fine, we never really... spoke? Like at all, I sat all the way in the back and no one could make me say a word."

He laughed softly at your words. 

"Wanna discuss this over coffee? If you don't have any other classes?"

"I'm free, so yeah, we could grab a coffee"

20 minutes later the two of you were laughing over how ridiculous you looked in the yearbook. Peter was holding your phone and looking at the photo in which you still had braces on, your eyebrows were so badly drawn on because you thought shaping them with a razor the night before was a good idea. It was not, you shaved off so much from one of them you had to fill it in. And since it was your first ever filling eyebrows in, it was very, very bad.  Also, your hair looked like it was made out of dark matter, because you recently had it dyed black, straightened it and accidentally put a bit too much hair oil on it. You were definitely not having a good time back then, but it was a small price to pay to hear Peter laugh so hard. A 4-month accutane treatment to acne and taking your braces off could really make a person change enough. It was a glow up and Peter could really see it now. 

"Okay now that I've seen that, I actually do remember you! You're the girl that got hit in the head with a basketball while tying her shoes on the bench during gym! Somehow you fell back and got under the benches so I had to pull you out."

"Oh no" you whined, hiding your face in your hands to hide how hard you were blushing. And he was right, that really did happen once, and it was that moment that actually started your little crush on him. You were probably 14 when it happened. You fell under the bleachers and felt so embarrassed that you froze on the spot, feeling like crying. People came running towards you, Peter beating them to it, and pulled you out by the hand. He dusted your shirt off and asked if you were alright. To your teenage mind he came in like a knight in shining armor, and it made you fall for him, very hard. 

''Come on, it wasn't that bad!" he said between laughs, giving your phone back. 

"It was bad, like really bad. How can your only memory of me be my worst moment in high school?''

"If that's your worst moment, you were doing good."

You took a sip from your coffee, your finger tracing the rim of the paper cup once you placed it down on the table. You really were regretting not talking to him in school, he seemed like such a nice person, you would have been good friends. 

"Why did you decide to go to ESU? I thought you had plans to go to MIT with your friends."

"Oh, I didn't get in."

"Yeah, totally sounds believable, Peter Parker, the Stark intern, highest SAT score in our grade, didn't get into MIT" you said sarcastically, shaking your head at him. 

He sighed, looking down at his hands. His leg started bouncing under the table and he suddenly seemed tense. Now it really did feel believable, based on his reaction. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"It's okay, honestly I was so sure I would get in too, but I don't think I ended up at a bad place"

"Obviously you didn't, I chose ESU, which makes it the best place ever. And now that I know you're here too, I get double confirmation for that." 

He laughed softly at your words.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few weeks later you were actually glad to have to work in pairs in the lab because Peter asked you to be his partner. 

You arrived just before the class started, sitting down at the table and putting your protective goggles on. 

"Sorry" you said as you sat down next to him, taking the empty flask that was sitting in front of him and immediately starting to mix the things you managed to read on the board. 

Peter smiled at you as he watched you, doing his own thing which you didn't pay too much attention to. 

"Roommate problems again?" he asked. 

Being lab partners meant the two of you had to talk regularly, which led to getting closer. You didn't know many people there besides him and your nightmare of a roommate. 

"You have no idea." you sighed, dropping a few droplets into a test tube. The mixture inside started smoking up slightly, you swirled it around until it stopped, passing it to him so he could heat it up. 

"What did she do this time?"

"Locked me in and took both of the keys on her way out. I had to call her to come back and unlock, she was pissed."

"Still don't get how someone can be so rude to you for no reason."

"I don't think she hates me really, she hates the idea of me. Not every 3rd year student is keen on the idea of babysitting a freshmen, I totally get that."

Peter wrote something down in his notebook after the mixture started bubbling up. You looked at it, brows furrowing. 

"What's the temperature?"

"140 F" 

"Peter that's not supposed to happen" you said worried 

"Actually it is, you didn't have the time to read the board and put only half"

"Oh-"

He removed the test tube, letting it cool down.

"It's okay, we'll just multiply it by two."

"Sometimes I wonder what I would do if you weren't here."

"Probably blow up the place."

You rolled your eyes at him before the both of you laughed, continuing your work. You tried being more concentrated now, and for the most part it was working out. Until Peter would roll up his sleeves and expose his forearms. Or when he would take the goggles off to fix his hair. You tried staring as discreetly as possible, but he probably did notice it every time.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

That same night was your first ever frat party. You weren't really a fan of parties, the high school ones you went to were boring but you were hoping that college ones were going to live up to the hype everyone was giving them. Plus, you were trying to make amends with your roommate, and she wanted some alone time with her boyfriend back at your place. The idea of frat boys really turned you off, you had seen more than enough of them in class and around campus. 

The music was booming through the speakers as you entered the house, people were everywhere. You could barely squish through the crowd, it was barely 10 pm and people were already wasted. You really wanted to let loose that night too, so you made it over to the bar and took whatever drink was handed to you first. It was vodka. Tasted bitter and burned down your throat and stomach as you drank it. The stress from university and the complicated relationship with Ruth, your roommate, were really starting to get you. Add your unresolved feelings for Peter to the mix and you really do have a strong enough pressure to make you explode like a time bomb. So, you wanted to take some pressure off by drinking and dancing. No one knew you here anyway so it was relatively easy to just do whatever you wanted. 

Five shots of vodka were already in your system by the first hour. The dance floor was yours to take. A red plastic cup in your hand while you were swaying to the rhythm of the song playing, boys were coming from left and right to dance together. And you did dance with them, probably even made out with one or two as well. It continued for what felt like forever, until 2 am rolled around and you started feeling tired and wasted. And the alcohol in your blood was about to hit you in the worst way possible and make you overthink everything that was going on around you. At that point you were sat on a couch in the trashed living room and some dude was talking to you. His hand was on your knee. You were too preoccupied by your own thoughts to even listen to whatever he had to say.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Peter hid behind his apartment building on campus, looking around to make sure no one would see him as he took off the spider-man costume. Ever since he went back to no one knowing his identity, he had to sneak around. He couldn't risk any of his roommates seeing him accidentally so he took the costume off outside after patrol, shoved it in his backpack and walked in. If anyone was ever awake and asked where he was, he would say either the library or doing lab work with you. He really did use you as an excuse a lot to his roommates, which gave them all kinds of wrong ideas. He didn't share a bedroom with anyone, which made his life so much easier, but there was a whole other bedroom with two boys in it in his apartment. 

No one was awake when he walked in, throwing his bag on the floor next to his bed. He felt shattered. The whole studying and spider-man business was draining his batteries like never before. Peter lay down on the bed, too tired to even get out of his jeans. He was rapidly drifting into sleep when his phone started ringing. He groaned in annoyance, looking at the screen only to see it were from you. Peter quickly picked it up, any feeling of tiredness leaving his body when he heard you crying on the other side of the phone. 

"Hey, hey, what happened? Are you hurt? Where are you?" he asked, panicked. 

"Ruth locked me out again." you cried on the phone "She left her key in, she was with her boyfriend and they were probably doing the deed and locked themselves and fell asleep."

You babbled really fast, he was trying to understand what you were saying but it was muffled by soft sobs. And you didn't sound sober either. 

"Peter, you fix all of my lab mistakes, please fix this."

He wasn’t sure what to do, especially since he didn’t know where you lived exactly. There weren’t many opinions in this situation, he could either find you and kick the door down so you could get in your place or he could take you in his room and let you sleep there. 

“Can you tell me where you are?” 

“In front of my dorm?”

“I don’t know where that is, genius”

You continued sobbing at his words, which made him feel even worse. You were very vulnerable and probably scared and he was acting poorly. 

“Okay, okay, sorry, I didn't mean that. Tell me where your dorm is and I’ll come fix it, okay?”

“It’s the one next to the library” 

He hopped out of his bed, rushing towards the building. 

When he got there he saw you sitting on the steps, looking down at your feet. 

"Hey" he said, standing in front of you, his hands in his pockets as he watched you slowly look up to him. Your eyes were red from all the crying and your cheeks were still wet from the tears. Peter sat down next to you with a sigh, the second he did that he could tell you had been drinking. The smell of vodka and cigarettes were all over your clothes. 

"Hi" you muttered back after a while, not really sure what to say or do at this point. 

"So what happened?" he whispered to you, bumping his shoulder into yours

"I got locked out, again" you whispered back, looking at him. He was smiling, a warm, comforting smile that made you feel so incredibly guilty that you called him. 

It made you realize what time it actually was, and that you probably woke him up. It was the middle of the night, and you woke up the closest thing you had to a friend here to help you. You ruined his sleep so he could save you from something you could have probably figured out on your own if you weren’t drunk. 

"Come on" he said, getting up and reaching out his hand to help you up as well. ''Let's get you out of here" 

You took his hand, the tears were welling up in your eyes again as you looked at him. He seemed so tired, yet he came rushing to your rescue. 

He walked in his room, trying to be as quiet as possible. 

"Wow you have a double bed??" you said as you looked around his room.

"Oh, yeah" he said, blushing when he saw the state of it. He didn't really think about making the bed before he left and the bedding looked like scrambled eggs with all the pillows and blankets everywhere. Peter didn’t want to look messing in front of you but it was too late for that.

"Lucky duck" 

Peter was kind enough to take out some clothes for you to sleep in while you showered. It was a spare pair of pajama pants and an old star wars t-shirt. He looked away while you got dressed and helped you into bed after that. 

"I can't thank you enough for this."

"Oh, you can, you can do my calculus homework."

The both of you laughed after that. He grabbed a pillow and a blanket, with the intention of sleeping on the couch. 

"Where are you going?"

"To sleep?"

"Not here?"

"Well, no-.... I-.... Don't want to invade...."

"I feel bad enough about it as it is, please come sleep in your bed, it's big enough" you whined.

Peter stood at the door. He really didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable, or crush you while he slept but at that point he was so shattered that the bed seemed like the best thing that could happen to him. You got up and pulled him towards the bed, grabbing the pillow and blanket with your other hand and throwing them on.

Peter was asleep the second his head hit the pillow, and you followed a minute or two later. It didn't feel as weird to sleep in the same bed as the two of you had anticipated. Maybe the alcohol helped. You were pretty sure that it was, in fact, the alcohol that made you call him, the one that insisted on sharing the bed as well. Sober you would probably be a flustered mess just from the thought of being in Peter's bedroom alone. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The second Ruth knew you had somewhere to sleep over, she took advantage of it. It was happening so often that you basically had a schedule when you would sleep over at Peter's. He didn't mind one bit because it was a reason to spend time with you. Plus, you did all your work for classes together, even in classes you or him weren't taking. So by the middle of the semester, you two were practically platonically dating. 

And it made you feel the worst and the best type of ways at the same time. You absolutely loved spending time with him and your feelings were only getting deeper and deeper with each day. Somehow, you still felt like you were taking away the college experience from him. He declined every party opportunity his roommates suggested, he rarely spoke to other girls and if he went out with friends from other classes, he would always make you tag along with them. Everyone thought that if you were not dating, then you were definitely hooking up, no matter how many times you denied it. Truth being told, it was actually kind of weird that you weren't doing either of those. And it got even weirder when someone else started expressing an interest in Peter.

Surprisingly enough, even to yourself, you actually liked going to parties. The alcohol helped you loosen up and talk and since Peter actually had other friends, now you knew some people here and there. You would always find someone to chat with at a party and you learned that socializing wasn't at all as scary as it seemed before. 

Tonight you found yourself at a random party in some basement of the dorm on the other side of campus. You knew that you'd be home late so the arrangements of staying over at Peter's were already made. As you were speaking to someone from your beginner-friendly biology class, a girl approached you. She was tall, way taller than you, had long dark hair and an amazing body. She grabbed your arm and said your name in a questioning tone. You nodded slightly taken aback from the interaction. 

"Can I borrow you for a second?" she asked, turning to the other person in an apologetic smile. 

"Sure."

She pulled you a bit away, still holding your arm right above the elbow. The whole thing was making you tense for some reason. 

"I'm sorry that I asked like this." she said, letting your arm go. "Actually, we've met before, I take calculus with Peter Parker, he brought you over at one of our group study sessions."

"Oh. Right." you did remember her now, but she looked slightly different with heavy makeup on. She definitely looked like one of the it girls on campus and you got the impression that she actually was. 

"So I wanted to ask if you and Peter were a thing?"

Once again you were stunned by a question from her. You looked around for some reason, she was making you feel uneasy. 

"Um, no, we're not."

"Great!" she said with a bright smile. "Do you think he'd be into me? He has this nerdy sex appeal, I actually really want to get with him."

You were blinking in disbelief towards her. This whole thing was really not making you feel well about your situation. She was gorgeous and she wanted to fuck your crush, it was going to end badly for you. You felt something like a ball in your throat that you knew even the gin couldn't wash down. 

"Well, good luck with that." you said, patted her shoulder and walked away before you started crying in front of her.

The whole situation really put you in a bad mood. There was nothing particularly wrong with it, but it managed to burst the bubble you were so peacefully living in. It got you wondering if Peter had his eyes on someone, if he was sleeping around with different girls, if he was going on dates. You kept imagining it, and drinking to try to stop, but nothing seemed to help. You couldn't spend every waking second with him to know, plus he never talked about girls with you. You didn't know who he was texting, or if he were going out with someone and not telling you. You were sure he wasn't because no girlfriend would ever feel okay with some random girl sleeping over as much as you did. Then again, he could be hooking up with someone, you were only sleeping over two or three times a week. 

You were so preoccupied by your worries that you almost didn't pick up your phone when Peter called. He said he finished whatever work he had to do and was going to come to the party and pick you up. It made you even more anxious. 

He walked through the door 15 minutes after the phone call. The whole thing was a sensory overload for him, the music was way too loud, the colors were too flashy, people were everywhere. He was constantly on edge because people were walking a little too close and his reflexes were being triggered. He hated parties. He hated the idea of you liking them even more. With the amount of time the two of you were spending together in the last few months, he grew very attached, he even developed a little crush of his own, but he was too terrified to admit that. Given his background and his secret, he wasn't too sure he wanted to put you through what MJ had gone through. He felt like it would be unfair to lie to you at the same time, it's not something you could hide from the person you're dating. 

People greeted him here and there, giving him brofists and handshakes. Peter really felt like a real frat boy, but he hated the experience. He froze in his tracks when he saw a girl that looked just like you making out with some dude. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, his chest tightened and it felt like someone set his lungs on fire. You were wearing black skinny jeans and a black top, hair was tied in a bun and your tongue was in someone's mouth. Was that why you sounded so weird on the phone? Was that why you waited so long to pick up? Peter was too stunned to even move so he just stood there in shock for a few seconds. He felt a hand on his shoulder, which made him snap out of it, turning his head. He met your eyes when he looked down, giving you a confused look. His head turned back to the other you that was still exchanging saliva with a guy, then back to the actual you. He finally started breathing again. Your outfit was actually nothing like the girl's, you had a long-sleeved light blue dress on that had a v-cut. It made you look really desirable and the way the color mixed so well with the lighting in the room, you looked like you walked straight out of Peter's dreams. He was practically trying to take pictures of you with his eyes for later. 

"What?" you asked as you noticed his stare, looking at your dress for accidental spills or any signs of why he was looking at you like that. 

"Nothing, actually." he said, taking the cup you were holding and finishing whatever was in it. He didn't really care what was in, alcohol had little to no effect on him but he liked to pretend. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You expected to go home shortly after Peter's arrival, but things didn't play out that way. The girl that talked to you about him earlier tonight saw the two of you and came over to chat. After 15 minutes of them talking and you awkwardly standing there, holding an empty cup in your hand, you were feeling more annoyed than ever. And pretty drunk too. You were already in a bad mood because of her, and when Peter suggested walking her to her dorm you just felt like crying. Your feet were killing you because of the heels you were wearing and you made sure to inform him but he seemed to have forgotten about that. 

And now, all three of you were walking around campus to get her safely to her room. You were giving them a side eye the whole time while she tried to scoot over closer to him. And when she said she was cold she could offer his flannel, you rolled your eyes so hard you got scared they'd get stuck and not come back. Unfortunately, they did come back and you had to witness him putting his shirt over her shoulders. Once at her dorm, she even had the audacity to kiss his cheek before walking in. It made him blush, and you, you were really about to throw up at that point. It felt like a very weird game of chess, and she had checked you in it. 

"Are you okay?" Peter asked when he saw how you looked. Gorgeous, he thought, but kind of pale and like you would collapse any second. 

"No" you said, your eyes meeting his. You could see the lipstick stain on his skin from the other girl and now you really did feel like throwing up. You were only 3 steps away from him and he made them so fast you felt like he teleported. 

"No, no, Peter, step away" you told him, your hand covering your mouth while you rushed to the nearest trash can and actually threw up. He rushed after you, holding your hair as you did. 

"You didn't look THAT drunk."  he said, patting your back while you were coughing. 

"This is so embarrassing" you cried softly, as if this night wasn't humiliating enough. 

"There, there, I hope you got it all out because I am not changing my sheets for the second time today." 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I'm thinking about switching my field of studies." you said, looking at Peter. 

He took his glasses, looking at you in disbelief. He was sat at his desk, trying to solve a math problem while you were lying on his bed, playing on your phone. 

"Chemistry doesn't do it for you anymore?" he asked mockingly.

"No, I just hate spending so much time with you." you replied in the same tone, sticking your tongue out at him. 

It had been a week since the whole party thing. You didn't throw up at his place, but you did have the worst hangover of your life. Peter helped you through it, but didn't pass up an opportunity to make fun of you.

"Then why are you here? I'm sure there's a party somewhere on campus."

"Shut upppp" you groaned, throwing a pillow at him. He caught it mid air and put it on the back of his chair before turning to finish his work. 

It felt like it was too early to sleep but you didn't have anything better to do since Peter was so busy with math. You turned on your side, facing the wall, since you liked sleeping on the side next to the wall, and closed your eyes. You didn't know how long it had been but you were definitely asleep when you got woken up by a knock on the door. You looked up with confusion, half asleep when Peter gave you an apologetic smile and got up from his chair to check who it was. 

He assumed it was one of his roommates that either lost or forgot his key, but he was surprised to open the door to his calculous classmate. 

"Hey, Pete." She said "May I come in?"

"Sure-" he said, letting her in

The girl walked over to the couch and sat down. 

"Remember last week when you gave me this shirt?" 

"I do." he said, only now noticing what she was wearing. It was his flannel, with a belt around her waist.

"Well, I came to return it." she said, unbuttoning it and taking it off. She got up, only in her underwear and walked towards him, handing him the shirt.

Peter was so flustered that he had to stare at his feet the whole time. 

"I think you got the wrong idea here-" he started, squeezing the flannel in his hand.

"About what?" she asked, squatting down in front of him so he could see her, and, well, you know...

Just as he was about to move, the door of his bedroom flew open. You stood there, wearing his shirt as your pajamas, double taking on what you were seeing. You didn't think there would be anything serious happening, but the chatter was disturbing your sleeping attempts and you wanted to check what was going on. But now you were just frozen in your spot, staring at a half-naked girl that was on her knees in front of Peter. Both of their heads turned towards you, staring in the same amount of disbelief. It felt like your worst nightmares had turned into reality. Neither of you knew what to do or what to say and you just stood there in silence, the tension so heavy it could suffocate someone. 

"It's not what it looks like." Peter managed to say, holding eye contact with you. 

''I'm so sorry, I didn't know-'' she started, getting up from the floor. 

"I think I'll pretend I dreamt that and go back to sleep." you said, closing the door before anyone could do or say anything else. 

"Peter, I didn't know, she told me you two weren't a thing last week."

He handed her the shirt, not even bothering to look at her. 

"We're not. You can keep this, go home."

She walked to the door, stopping at it to look at his back. 

"I'm really sorry, if I can do anything, tell me." 

"Goodnight."

He knocked gently on the door before walking in. He saw you tucked in the bed, hugging one of the pillows. You weren't really sure what to feel right now and you were trying your best not to cry. It wasn't like the things between you had changed and you had no right to be upset over his personal affairs. Peter sat on the bed next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

"I know you're not sleeping, can we talk about this?"

"Talk about what?"

"What happened back there."

"There is nothing to talk about."

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea."

You sat up, still hugging the pillow. You pressed the back against the wall, looking directly into his eyes.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why don't you want me to get the wrong idea? Whatever that is supposed to mean."

He looked at his lap, unsure of what to say next. 

"Because I'm not that kind of guy."

"Peter, it's none of my business what you do for fun."

"For fun? You think I do this for fun?"

"You're not doing math for fun, that's for sure."

"Are you always a bitch or is it a defense mechanism?"

"You were the one who wanted me to ''not get the wrong idea'' and suddenly I turned into a bitch?"

"Okay, I overstepped on that one. Nothing happened there, I haven't talked to her or seen her since we left the party together and you threw up."

"Okay, for some reason I believe that, but why should it be concerning me?"

"Stop pretending."

"Excuse me?"

He didn't say anything after that, just pulled your arm so you could get closer to him and kissed you. It happened so fast you couldn't really process it. Once the shock was over, you kissed him back. You probably looked like a teen movie kissing scene, you on your knees and arms while he was sitting, one arm for support and the other one cupping your face as you kissed. 

"I should have done this way sooner." he said after you parted.

[sparrowritings]

how you two got together

pairing: gojo x zenin!male!reader

summary: non-curse zenin reader and their dynamic with gojo after defecting from the zenin clan to attend tokyo jujutsu high

tags: non-descriptive injury and violence, gay panic

word count: 2.5k

a/n: this started off as hcs, but then got really long as i worked on it lol. i might make a pt.2 where its bf hcs, let me know what u think!

Born into the Zenin clan with little to no cursed energy, a heavenly restriction was placed on you as a child

Similar to Maki, you were viewed as the family's disappointment

This was further accentuated since you were born around the same time as Naoya, who was gifted with one of the family’s prized cursed techniques

You were close to and looked up to Toji due to you both not possessing cursed techniques and became training partners 

When Toji defected from the Zenin clan, you defected too to pursue becoming a sorcerer, eventually ending up at Tokyo Jujutsu High

This is also how you got to know the other three first-years when you joined 

“Everyone, (Y/N) will be joining us for the rest of the school year. Please behave, especially you, Satoru.” Yaga states as you walk up to the front of the classroom.

You were nervous, there was no hiding that. This was the first time you interacted with sorcerers outside of the Zenin clan. 

“Please take care of me!” You say, bowing.

When you stood upright again, you took in your classmates for the next four years. The guy with bone-white hair and round shades caught your eye immediately. His hair looked fluffy, and you wanted to run your fingers through it. He was slumped sideways in his chair, arms draped to his side and his feet crossed on the table in front of him. He was attractive, you had to admit.

“This has to be a joke, Sensei. How is a person with no cursed energy ever going to become a sorcerer?” The light-haired man spoke, with a teasing lilt.

Well, he was attractive to you until he opened his mouth. 

The first sentence that came out of Gojo Satoru’s mouth immediately left a bad taste in your mouth

It was that day where you decided that he had a shitty personality and that you did not like him

Once your life at Jujutsu High settled into a routine, you began to adjust and get more comfortable with who you were

You would hang out in the morgue with Shoko when you were bored but didn’t want to train

You would train hand-to-hand with Suguru because he was the only one who could keep up with you in that regard

You didn’t hang out with Gojo too often; after that first interaction, you believed that he was like the people in your family back home

Gojo initially thought that you were a helpless non-sorcerer who had overly ambitious dreams until he saw you spar for the first time

Crickets chirped in the background as the sun beat down on you and Suguru overhead. The dull “clack” of wood on wood echoed through the training grounds. You and Suguru had become regular sparring partners since you revealed yourself as an excellent physical fighter and cursed tools user. 

You attacked from the sides quickly, before aiming one decisive, forward thrust towards Suguru’s chest. Caught off guard, he raised his waster to block the attack sloppily. Taking advantage of the surprise, you quickly dropped down and swept at his legs, catching him off balance. Before he had a chance to react, the tip of your waster was resting lightly on his chest. You were both breathing heavily from the exertion and heat. A beat later, you lower your weapon and help the other up, smiles on both your faces as Suguru punches your shoulder in a friendly gesture.

Taking a break from the session, the both of you sit on the side of the field, taking a water break.

Unbeknownst to you, Gojo and Shoko were just walking past the fields and had witnessed the entire exchange.

Gojo found himself unable to tear his eyes off you. He had seen other people fight with swords, but none were ever as graceful as you. You moved like water, each motion flowing into each other seamlessly. It seemed so effortless, but Gojo knew that what you were capable of was only possible with years of dedicated training. 

“Satoru, you’re staring,” Shoko spoke. 

“No! I-I wasn’t.” Gojo bit back, his cheeks and ears flushing pink.

“Sure, I believe you.” She chuckled.

So okay, maybe Gojo thought that you were attractive when you were fighting

It was something that was absolutely objective, really

At least, that was what he tried to convince himself

Okay, so maybe he had a tiny, tiny crush on you, but he didn’t really know how to go about it since you guys never talked

So he resorted to getting your attention in a mature way

By annoying the fuck out of you

“Oh look, it’s my favorite non-curse user!” He would squeal whenever he would see you and drape himself over your shoulder.

“Fuck off, Gojo.” You would huff before peeling him off you.

Initially, he had succeeded, and you had found it annoying

But as he did it more often, it became the dynamic between you two

You were cooking in the communal kitchen when the tall man had made himself known in all his lanky glory.

“How’s my favorite armrest doing this fine evening?” He spoke, opening the fridge.

“I’m doing better than your string bean-looking ass.” You shot back as you stirred the ramen cooking in the saucepan in front of you.

“You hurt me, truly.” Gojo responds, dramatically leaning against the fridge.

You began to understand why Gojo was the way he was, and slowly, a friendship formed despite the rocky start

You were on good terms, until the first time you were assigned a harder mission with Gojo

It was a semi-grade one, and the higher-ups were originally going to send Geto, but he had been whisked away on another mission

So Yaga assigned the mission to you instead of Geto

For this mission, you brought one of your favourite weapons, Shisui

Shisui was a katana that could absorb and accumulate cursed energy and release it  

The fight against the curse started well, but quickly went downhill when Gojo destroyed one of the walls in the building, and it started collapsing

You had to dodge the debris and the curse’s attacks at the same time, which was honestly a hassle

The curse was smart; it had caught on to how much the collapsing building was giving you trouble, and strategically positioned itself in front of the other wall, hoping to trick Gojo into destroying the other wall

However, you had picked up on it

Gojo had already pointed his fingers towards the curse, who was floating right in front of the wall. If he fired Blue now, the building would definitely collapse.

Pushing off quickly, you dash towards the curse, intercepting Blue with Shisui. You gripped the hilt of the blade; it was built to absorb cursed energy, but withstanding the force of Blue was still no easy feat. 

You landed stably, before shooting off again, rushing the curse perpendicular to the wall. You gripped Shisui, charged with the cursed energy of Blue, and with a pinpoint-precise thrust, the semi-grade one was no more. However, what you failed to realize was that as the curse was exorcised, it had sent out its tendrils in an attempt to take down the two sorcerers. 

Focused on taking it down without destroying the building, you had left your side open. Three tendrils pierced your side, searing pain shooting up your torso. You fell onto one knee, using Shisui for support.

Your erratic pulse drummed in your ears, and black spots clouded your vision. Your limbs tingle as you reach a hand to your side, your uniform now wet with your blood.

“(Y/N)...(Y/N)!” You hear Gojo’s voice become softer and softer as you slump over.

Gojo is the one to take you back to school with his teleportation

He appears in the morgue, frantic and panicked with your injured body in his arms

Shoko takes over immediately, using her RCT on your injuries

She tells Gojo that you will be fine and that you just need rest, but he refuses to leave your side

When you eventually wake up, you immediately get a lecture from Gojo 

“(Y/N), I had it handled. You didn’t have to jump in.” He stated.

“You would’ve collapsed the building, Satoru. That would’ve caused trouble for both of us.” You reasoned.

“You were being reckless; you should’ve left everything to me.” 

“Reckless? Me?” You started incredulously, “Well yeah, not everyone has Infinity as a get-out-of-jail-free card, so sorry, Gojo-sama, for worrying about getting crushed by a building.”

“Well this get-out-of-jail-free card could’ve exorcised the curse without getting stabbed in the side! Thrice!” Gojo exclaimed, frustrated that you weren’t understanding his logic.

“You should just go alone next time, seeing as you obviously don’t need my help. You could just say it to my face if you think I’m not good enough, no need to play pretend.” You spat.

“(Y/N), that’s not-” 

“I think you’ve said enough. I don’t want to talk to you right now.” You cut him off once again. He seems to hesitate before turning and leaving the morgue.

You hadn’t noticed earlier, but your eyes were watery

Whether from frustration or from betrayal that Gojo looked down on you this entire time, you didn’t know

Shoko gave you a reassuring look before rushing off after Gojo

She finds Gojo sitting under a tree right outside the school building, holding his head in his hands

Shoko lights a cigarette, plopping down next to him

“I don’t understand why he’s so stubborn. If he let me handle the curse he wouldn’t have needed to get hurt.” Gojo speaks, head still in his hands.

“You? Worried about someone getting hurt instead of whether they are slowing you down? Who are you and what have you done to the real Gojo Satoru?” Shoko replies.

Gojo feels his cheeks and ears heat up.

“I know you like him. You’re not exactly subtle with it. You should probably make it clear that you’re worried about him and not looking down on him, before he has time to convince himself otherwise.” Shoko speaks before taking a hit of her cigarette.

Many things are running through Gojo’s head, but the main thing his mind was screaming at him was how maybe his crush was something more

Initially he was drawn to you because of how good you were with cursed tools

But after spending more time with you, he realized that he cared about you 

In a way where he wanted to protect you, to hear your laugh and to see you happy

He’s never felt this deeply about anyone, or anything for that matter

He stands abruptly, rushing back towards the morgue

While this conversation was happening, you received a call from your clan 

They have not contacted you since you left so you were curious

You picked up, putting them on speaker

“(Y/N). We heard that you got injured badly.” Your mother’s voice, “We’ve deliberated with the elders. We are allowing you to return to the estate, (Y/N). We’ve been trying to tell you that you aren’t suited for the sorcerer life and today was just proof of that. The Jujutsu World doesn’t need any more weak sorcerers; you’ll just get in the way.” She spoke softly.

You could feel the tears well up once again, and you sobbed when you couldn’t keep them back. You knew that you had the odds stacked against you when you decided to pursue becoming a Jujutsu sorcerer. You had thought that you found people who viewed you as equal, people who respected your own skills, until Gojo had made you realise that he had looked down on you this entire time. 

You had thought that maybe, just maybe that you guys were friends, or even more, when he would entertain your banter and be physically affectionate with you. It hurt that this entire time, you were a joke to him. He didn’t even think you could handle that curse working in a team with him, let alone by yourself.

It hurt.

You were letting the tears flow freely down your face, now that the dam had broken. 

“(Y/N)-” Your father had started speaking but you stopped listening when you saw who was at the door. Unbeknownst to you, Gojo had overheard the entire conversation.

“Gojo, I told you I didn’t want to talk to you right now.” You spoke shakily, averting his gaze.

“(Y/N),  I-I came to apologize, actually.” Your eyes widen in surprise.

“You? Apologising?” You couldn’t stop yourself before those words tumbled out of your mouth.

Gojo looked down at the floor, face flushing. 

“Look, I didn’t mean to say what I said before- I thought that- What I meant to- How I meant-” He struggled with his words, but you waited for him to finish patiently, “I’m sorry I made you think that I didn’t want your help, or that you’re not good enough. That’s not what I meant.” He made his way towards you, kneeling at your bedside, resting his arms and head on the edge of the bed. He grabs your hand.

“I just got really scared that I had lost you, and I-I really care about you, (Y/N).”

You look down at Gojo, still processing his words. Your father’s voice cuts through the silence.

“-the weak don’t have to pretend to be strong. Give up this act and return at once, (Y/N).” It reminded you of your current circumstance and fresh tears rolled down your cheeks. 

Observing your distress, he picks up the phone before you could react. 

“Oi Zenin, (Y/N) here is one of the best cursed tool users this school has seen, so shut the fuck up before you start talking about someone you know nothing about. He’s one of the kindest, most considerate and strong sorcerers around, and he could wipe the floor with you guys in his sleep, so fuck off with your bullshit. Byeeeee~” Gojo singsongs before hanging up.

“I can’t believe you just did that.”

Gojo’s expression returns to the more serious one from early. He gets up, cupping your face in both his hands.

“I’m being serious, (Y/N). You’re an amazing person, and I’m mad that I made you feel otherwise.” He pauses before continuing, “And. I’ve been meaning to tell you this, but I have feelings for you, and I think I’ve been feeling this way for a while. Uh, it’s okay if you don’t return my feelings, and I understand if-”

You don’t let him continue, pulling him in by his arms and kissing him. He freezes for a moment before he reciprocates. When the two of you part for air, he rests his forehead on yours.

“I have feelings for you too, Satoru.” You speak softly.

He chuckles, capturing your lips with his.

[actuallysaiyan]

The First Time(Aka How Nanami Kento Lost His Virginity)Chapter Four: The Honeypot

Chapter Four: The Honeypot

warnings: fluff, oral sex(fem and male receiving), general cuteness, mentions of porn, mentions of male masturbation pairings: Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: it's been a while since you and Kento hung out, and you as him to dinner one night. he reminds you of the thing he promised he would do the next time you two were to hang out.

taglist: @beneathstarryskies @seireiteihellbutterfly @kenpachisbrat

@marikuchanxo @harlekin6 @gennaray

@markleeisdabestdrug @entirelysein-e. @sugurusprettygirl

MDNI and support banners by @/benkeibear

Masterlist

A couple of weeks have gone by since the last time you and Kento have hung out. You two keep in contact in class and through texting. Lately your conversations have been a lot more flirty than usual. Safe to say that the two of you see each other more than just friends who have fooled around a bit.

Your heart races every time you see him. His knees feel weak whenever you laugh at his jokes. The two of you are becoming quite smitten for one another. It was becoming harder and harder to deny the attraction that was building there.

The more you two spent time together, the more you found yourselves making up something to ensure you'll have more time together. Even in class, you two partner up for every project. You find yourself wondering when you’ll finally go on that date you two spoke of the last time you were intimate together.

And Kento finds himself too nervous to bring it up again. He thinks it was some sort of pipe dream that will never come to fruition. Still, he holds onto hope that maybe you’ll ask him out one day.

That day does come. It’s a Friday and classes are about to be let out for the day. You’re giddy to spend some time not studying and not worrying about any upcoming tests. It’s just going to be you, your couch and a bunch of junk food. But that’s when you spot Kento on your way towards the dorms. You then realize it’s the perfect time to ask him out on that date.

He sits by the vending machines. You sit next to him, noticing the adorable half-smile on his face. He looks at you and his smile spreads across his face.

“Hey are you busy tonight?” you ask him.

He shakes his head. “Nothing planned for this evening. Why?”

“Would you like to go get dinner together? I think we did talk about this the last time we hung out.”

His cheeks and tops of his ears go pink. “S-sure! Yeah, that sounds good.”

You two make plans to meet at the front entrance in about an hour. Kento mentions a cute noodle shop that opened up near campus a few months ago that he’s been dying to try. And with your plans made, you part ways.

Your heart is fluttering in your chest as you walk back to your dorm room. Kento spends a long time debating what he’s going to wear. You take a quick shower and spend time doing a little makeup.

Finally it's time to meet up. You walk towards the front entrance of the university. Your heart is racing as you try to calm yourself. You find Kento in the entryway, doing the same. He’s trying so desperately to take deep breaths and he’s pacing the floor. You smirk as you walk over to him.

“Hey cutie,” you call out. He whips around to face you. 

“H-hey! Ready?”

“Yes, I’m ready.”

You look stunning. He doesn’t quite understand why you want to spend time with him like this. He doesn’t find himself to be anything special. The coolest thing about him happens to be the one thing he has to hide from you. If you found out that he was a Jujutsu Sorcerer, he’s sure you’d probably shun him and never speak to him again.

“Earth to Kento!” You wave your hand in his face, breaking him from the spell of being zoned out.

He chuckles softly, “S-sorry! Let’s go.”

He takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together. It feels natural but there’s a nervous feeling with each action you two do that makes you feel like a real couple. 

The conversation starts off small. Just little tidbits about class and the homework. He guides you towards the noodle shop. He’s excited to spend this evening with you. The bigger prospect of it all is if he can finally return the favor.

Since the last time you went down on him, Kento has been watching lots of videos on how to go down on a girl. He’s been jerking off to videos of girls getting their pussies licked, wishing he could be the one doing it to you. Even just thinking about it, he has to push all these dirty thoughts away,

You two arrive at the shop, and he finds you both a cute booth in the back. A waitress arrives to take some drink orders and then gives you a few moments to peruse their menu. Kento looks over at you from across the table and the minute your eyes lock, you notice just how much he’s smitten about you. You feel the same way about him.

The waitress returns with your drinks, and you take Kento’s recommendation on some yakisoba noodles with pork cutlets. He orders the same for himself. The two of you wait in anticipation for the delicious food that’s about to be served.

“It smells so good in here,” you comment.

Kento nods. “Yeah, I knew I really wanted to come try it. One of my friends recommended this place.”

Something about this comment makes you feel jealous. You know you shouldn’t be jealous of someone you don’t know, but this is a friend that Kento has never mentioned to you. And though you two aren’t that close, you two have become closer than before. Close enough to call you good friends. Good friends who like to fool around and give each other oral sex.

You manage to change the subject to something else. The topic turns to anime, homework and music. You and Kento have an easy time talking about the things you love. It never really occurs to you that you two enjoy infodumping on one another. It’s sweet in its own way.

The food is delicious. The sauce in the noodles is spicy and the pork cutlets are tender and juicy. Kento orders some dessert afterwards to go. He’s excited to maybe be able to wrap this up nicely back at your place.

Once the bill has been taken care of thanks to your gentleman of a date, he asks if you’d like to split the dessert back at your place. You agree happily, almost oblivious to what he promised you the last time he was over at your place.

The walk back is filled with jokes, laughter and soft flirting. Kento has you in tears from laughing so hard agt his silly jokes. Despite his usual stoic and sullen manner, he is quite funny when he comes out of his shell.

“You know,” he chuckles. “With the way this evening has gone, one might think we’re dating now.”

Your cheeks redden, “Who’s to say we aren’t?”

You tug him closer to you, kissing him softly. He smiles and the butterflies erupt in his tummy. He finally gains a little courage and he leans in to whisper in your ear.

“When we get back to your place, I’d like to return the favor from last time.”

Your knees buckle a little at the husky tone of his voice. You look into his eyes and see how they’ve darkened. You nod your head, taking him by the hand and leading him back to the dorms.

Kento doesn’t remember the last time he was this excited for something. He knows he’s prepared well, but nothing can fully prepare him for what’s to come. He wants to make sure you are so comfortable and happy.

Once inside your dorm, Kento doesn’t hesitate to kiss you. He leads you to the couch, pushing you back gently. His hands are gentle but eager as he pushes up your skirt. His eyes widen a little when he notices the cute little wet patch on your panties.

With the dessert long forgotten, Kento reaches up to hook two fingers into the waistband of your panties. You’re trying not to pant too much, but you don’t even remember the last time a guy went down on you.

“I…I obviously have never done this before.” Kento confesses, though he knows you won’t judge him. “So please, guide me. Tell me what feels good and what I’m doing wrong.”

You look down at him and nod your head, promising to guide him to the best of your capabilities. He pulls down your underwear, and he gets a small whiff of your scent. A low moan rumbles from his chest before he spreads your thighs. Without thinking too much, he pockets your panties.

He’s analyzing you for a moment. You squirm under his gaze before he leans in. His lips are soft as he presses kisses to your inner thighs. Kento slowly makes his way towards your pussy. He’s watched the videos. He’s studied them closely. Now he can do his best, just for you.

What catches him off guard is how good you taste the minute his tongue presses against your folds. You taste musky and tangy, but there’s a sweetness hidden there. He grunts as the flavor takes over anything else. His cock hardens quickly before he can do anything else.

You reach down to gently play with his hair. You’re ready to give advice. Much to your surprise, Kento seems very proficient in what he’s doing. He laps at you slowly, softly. He avoids the clit for a bit, preferring to circle around it to tease you.

“Kento,” you whine. “D-don’t tease me.”

But he’s determined to make you feel so good. He wants you to come undone so beautifully just for him. His eyes snap up to watch you, making sure you’re still doing alright. That’s when he wraps his lips around your swollen nub, and you let out the cutest little whine.

Grunting softly, Kento suckles on your clit with a pressure you never even knew could exist for this activity. He flicks his tongue over the bud in his mouth, noticing what patterns you enjoy the most. Your thighs are already shaking, and his cock is throbbing painfully in his skinny jeans.

Your fingers tug on his hair a little, and he smirks when he feels you grinding against his tongue. He lets go of your clit; he takes a few long, languid licks through your folds before dipping down to taste you straight from the source.

This is what sets Kento off. Your tangy nectar is like an aphrodisiac to him. It’s making his brain all fuzzy with lust. His tongue plunges into you; moans are rumbling from his chest. He’s growing even more aroused than he thought he would from the simple act of tasting you and making you feel good.

His thumb comes up to begin rubbing your clit slowly. He remembers what he saw in all those videos. And then he begins to feel your thighs clenching around him, and this makes him even more excited. His eyes snap up to watch you come undone on his tongue.

“Kento,” you moan loudly. “I’m really close.”

He doesn’t even need to hear more. His tongue laps up to your clit where he pulls it between his lips and sucks on it like before. His fingers come down to your hole and he pushes one of them into you. Your eyes roll back as the pleasure just keeps building.

The room is filled with your breathy moans, the wet sounds of him sucking on your clit and the squelching of your wet pussy. It takes just a few more pumps of his fingers and a stroke of his tongue for you to fall off the edge with a loud cry of his name.

He doesn’t stop; instead he focuses on pulling the most pleasure from you. His mind is so dizzy, his eyes heavy with lust as he continues to pleasure you. Kento then begins to lap at your hole once he pulls his fingers from it. You’re dribbling pure honey to him. 

Your thighs are shaking and you shudder as you’re trying to come down from the best orgasm you’ve ever had. You reach down to push him away gently and he whines at the loss of contact. He looks up at you with a feral look in his eyes, wiping away the juices from his lips. You notice just how hard he is.

This is when you maneuver him to lay back on the couch, and you unbuckle his belt. Kento’s eyes widen when you pull his cock out and wrap your lips around him.

“Just relax,” you say in a husky tone. “Let me show you just how much I appreciated every moment of that.”

[sweptawayghost]

In Dreams Pt.1

PAIRING: Joel Miller X Reader

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Joel Miller is down bad for the first time in a long time. After him and Ellie arrive and settle into life in Jackson, Joel is itching to get out. He becomes your patrol partner but he could be so much more if you give him the chance.

Hello!!! 

This is my first time writing any kind of fan fiction so please be nice. I'm a huge fan of The Last Of Us and a major Joel Miller apologist. God, I love that man. Lots of Joel's inner thoughts. NO USE OF Y/N. W/c 4.1K

Anyway, I wanted to write a series and I had a hard time laying the groundwork but baby I got dirty things brewing. No warnings for this one but I will mention any trigger points in the future. Anything Written like this {Italic} indicated Joel's inner thoughts

CHAPTER WARNING: Mention of male masturbation, mentions of alcohol, Age gap

Joel Miller was down bad. 

He found himself wondering how far too many times. He was sure he'd sworn off love and romance but then there you were. With your toothy grins and your warm palms. Eyes that made him feel safe and seen. 

Your laugh filled his ears and swelled his heart. He would do anything to be in the same room as you, he would move where you move, he would go where you go, He could listen to you talk about anything and nothing as long as you kept looking at him and laughing at his jokes. 

He wishes he could tell you right now how badly he wanted you. He wishes he could let you know how important you were to him, how he would move mountains if it would make you smile. 

He hoped you would see how much Ellie loved you.

Joel saw the spark return to her eyes thanks to you. He loved that you cared about her so much, as if she was the most precious and fragile thing in the world. 

How you fed her, brushed her hair for her. You happily opened your home to her when you knew Joel would be gone for a night or so just to make sure she wouldn't be alone. 

There were just certain things that Joel couldn't provide for Ellie. But He knew you could. He wanted you to be in her life regardless of how he felt for you and how you felt for him. How do you feel about me? 

///

He sat with Tommy in the Tipsy Bison one fall afternoon, the sun was sinking down behind the hills, the cool breeze whipped and swerved around the town centre. The Trees with their many hues of orange hung lazily ready to be whisked away.  

The town prepared for the cold months that were to come, fixing and unblocked gutters, salted and jerked meats, pickled and preserved anything they could. prepared the garden beds in the greenhouses for new crops to come, pulling weeds and turning soil. It didn't feel rushed or urgent, it felt like a normal town, on a normal day, in a normal world.

Joel and Ellie had all but settled into Jackson by now, not like they had a lot to unpack when they arrived. He remembers one of the first nights they had come back. The feeling of the hot water on his skin made him want to cry. He had a chance to wash away all the blood, all the grime, the sweat, the shame, the guilt, the tightness in his chest and the pain in his heart. 

Tommy had handed him a large crate when they arrived. Soaps, toothbrushes and toothpaste, Conditioner and shampoo in solid bars, lip balms, razors. Simple items that were worth more than gold. Most of the items were handmade and imperfect in shape which made them seem even more special. Someone made this for you. 

There were also a number of clothing items given to them, shirts, pants, socks and underwear, jackets, even a few dresses that Ellie all but discarded in the back of her wardrobe. 

It felt odd to be given so much when he had taken so much. 

Stop thinking about it. 

 he wanted to make himself useful, he didn't want to sit still anymore, he wanted to move, to distract his mind. He started to worry about what Jackson would do to him in the long run. Would it take off his edge that kept him and Ellie alive all this time? What would happen if it burnt to the ground? He didn't want to put Ellie through anything more than she had already had to endure. 

He felt naked without his pistol glued to his hip, exposed, vulnerable. He wasn't used to people smiling at him on the streets, raising an arm to wave or finding cooked meals or small gifts on his front door step. Those first few weeks were a lot to adjust to. He wondered how Ellie was handling it. She seemed closed off and quiet. She's worried about fitting in. Joel thought to himself. Teenage girls are still teenage girls after all. 

///

“So your patrol partner…” Tommy sat looking from his glass across the table at his older brother “ you’ll like her, she's a bit rough around the edges at first but she's got a good head on her. She just weary of people '' Tommy spoke with a small smile on his lips but drew his eyes back to his glass. As if thinking back on you with fond memories.

Tommy had taken Joel out for the first few weeks. He had learnt the ropes quickly, to be honest there wasn't much to get, it was straight forward and it was what Joel was good at. He knew the job wasn’t for everyone but he knew he was damn near built for it. 

He wasn't particularly worried about getting a new partner, he and his brother worked well together. The communication was little but clear, a nod of the head, a knowledge of the others limits, no need to make small talk and comfortable silences.but damn did Tommy know how to get on Joel's nerves. 

He was more worried about whether his partner would crumble under pressure. If they would make stupid moves and get one or both of them killed. What would happen to Ellie? 

“Is that your subtle way of tellin’ me she a bitch?” He raised an eyebrow at his brother. 

“Some would say” is the only reply he was offered

Some would say. 

But Tommy wouldn't. Good sign.

“She aint real good at small talk either” Tommy mumbled from the rim of his glass before he sipped back the amber liquid. 

“She’s good quality” a smile hung from his lips “she’ll just say some shit that’ll catch you off guard” 

/// 

He woke up with a tightness in his chest. Like he does most mornings. As the soft glow from his window floods his room he stills the thumping in his chest, rubbing small circles to alleviate the ache.

He sits up and lets reality wash over him. It's okay.

It feels wrong to feel safe. 

He went about his normal routine he had set up for himself, any distraction from the nightmare he awoke from. Get up. Get dressed. Get to it. Coffee was a non negotiable, even the instant stuff was doing it for him these days. He slowly opened the front door, ultra aware of the creaks of the old home he now called his. He found himself thinking about the family who lived there before him. Stop 

Stepping onto the front porch with socked feet. He let the steam of the coffee swirl around his face as he inhaled the chilled morning air. Seeing the street lights glow softly as the morning creeps over the hills. Jacksons main street was a few blocks over and he could hear soft murmuring of people start to make their way into the mess hall for breakfast before starting their daily assignments. It reminded him of before. 

He could almost imagine that the last 20 years were just a really bad, really vivid dream. 

The sounds of a neighbourhood waking up to begin their day. The sound of gravel crunching in the distance, a soft yell from the other side of main street, the sound of his neighbours walking around the upper level of their home. All once familiar sounds to Joel. All sounds that now feel alien. 

He let his chin drop to his chest and began slowly moving it from side to side to relieve some tension, noticing a large hole in one of his woollen socks right at the big toe. The padding on the heel is also threatening to split open any day now. 

Moments like this were scary for Joel. moments of silence. Moments when he could let his mind wander because he didn't have urgency at his back, he wasn't being chased down the street by a horde of infected or being shot at by a group of raiders, he wasn't doing supply run with the threat of a QZ guard blowing his head off if he got caught and he wasn't lying in the woods wide awake all night to make sure Ellie was safe as she slept a few feet away from him.  

No. Joel Miller, for the first time in a long time, was safe. 

His attention snapped up quickly when he heard a slam a few doors up from him. He let the goosebumps run down his spine as the thought faded from his mind. 

///

When Joel arrived at the gates of Jackson to meet his patrol partner he wasn't expecting… Well, you. You greeted him with a simple nod of your head and handed him the reins of a horse. He looked down at your extended hand, small cuts and scrapes that covered your skin, they looked soft but worked. He grabbed the reins from you and let his eyes jump to yours. 

In the low morning light, your face serious but soft, your eyes beamed up at him. You were younger than him, a hell of a lot younger, that much he could see. He wondered what you'd be like out there. What kind of person is he stuck with for the next few hours?  Would you run at the first sign of trouble? Or worse, someone who wouldnt shut the fuck up and would rather spew bullshit then sit with the silence. 

“You a decent shot?” His voice came out low almost like a whisper, all thick with sleep that still lingered in his lungs.

You gave a small huff as you turned to mount your horse and only looked at him, without saying a word. 

You made him a little nervous. This he could admit to himself. He couldnt put his finger on it right away but as you continued on your patrol that day he started to work it out. You had already checked out the weapons and saddled the horses before he reached the gates that morning, You had taken the lead on the trails, you didn't offer him your hand or even said hello for that matter, You hadn't spoken a word to him full stop. Did you think you were too good to talk to him or give him the time of day? Did you think he was incapable or stupid?

Incapable. Useless. Ineffective. No, surely not. You were just some girl, what did you know about me? 

As these thoughts swamped his brain he became overly aware of every move he made, any noise he made, he felt like he was under a microscope with you.

 Every now and again he would feel you looking at him as you slowed to ride beside him, he tried to catch your eyes. It made him sweaty, uncomfortable and restless. Why are you so nervous? Why do you care if she likes you or not? you're working together not getting married.

Neither of you had made an attempt at small talk. He didn't even know your name until you had been out for several hours and that was only because communication was mandatory at that moment. 

“Im Joel by the way” He offered you. The response you gave was only a look that said yeah I know dumb ass

That was the last time he tried to talk to you. You made him feel small and like his presence was unnecessary. He was meant to be the stoic one, the quiet one, the protector, the one who takes the lead, not some girl 30 years younger than him. 

Tommy had been right, you had a good head on your shoulders and while your silence unsettled him to a degree he did feel safe, you weren't distracted and you weren't distracting him. Right?

He didn't like being the one on the outs as much as he would protest that he didn't care and didn't need people to like him. For some reason he wanted you to like him. He wanted you to talk to him at least. 

The rest of the patrol was uneventful. You were good, he did what he could although he just felt like a supporting act to you. An odd feeling stirred in his gut when he looked at you. Everytme he let his eyes wander over your form he noticed small details.

Your cheeks were flushed as the cold afternoon wind whipped past you. You were swimming in the sweater you wore, small mended patches where you had repaired holes in the ageing fabric. The way you would adjust your backpack periodically, cracking your back in the process.He liked the way you smelt when you walked close to him or when the wind changed in his direction. Small things. He wondered what you would notice about him.

You still held a stony expression as you approached the gates of jackson. While he felt relieved to get out of your presence he also wanted to look at you more. He wished he could pause you just to study your expression. 

You held your expression when you looked up at him. He looked back blankly at you before he noticed you had extended your hand out in front of you towards him. He glanced down at your hand and then back to your face, he shot you a confused look.

“The horse” you gesture with your eyebrows and a small tilt of your head towards the reins that he still held. 

“Unless you wanna hold hands” you said with a small smile on your face. She smiled at you

He handed the softened leather rein to you, he looked back at you and returned a lazy grin. You turned and began to walk towards the stables with a horse on either side. 

“Do you need help getting back or do you think you've got it under control?” you asked him with a slight turn of your shoulder. 

“Im good” was all he could muster with a small crack in his voice. 

But that didn't matter because you smiled at him. 

Joel thought about you as he walked back to the Bison, he couldn't stop the way his lips curled at the corners as he walked, Kicking up dirt and rocks as he went, hands in his pockets and head hung low. He thought about the flutter of your lashes. He thought about the strands of hair that fell in your face when you bent over. He thought about the way the strap of your rifle hugged your shoulder. He thought about the hushed tone of your voice when you spoke to him. He thought about the way you looked at him over your shoulder and the way your cheeks flushed when you caught his eyes already on you.  

///

“How was it?” Tommy had asked him as he honed in on the bowl of stew, he held it close to his chest as if someone would swipe it from him if he didnt. 

“It was fine” was the only reply Joel was willing to give. She makes me feel like she doesn't need me.

Tommy raised his eyes from his meal to peer at his brother. He rested the bowl in his hands down on the table. 

“Really? Just fine” He said it like he was digging for more.  

“Nothing interesting happen that you wanna tell me about?” Joel only raised an eyebrow in place of a reply. 

“Yeah Tommy we had so much fun, we sang songs and picked flowers and braided each other's hair” Joel spat at him with annoyance. 

“No, nothing interesting happened” Tommy’s expression didn’t change at Joel's words, he had a lopsided grin glued to his face.

“It's just that you haven't whipped that smirk off your face since you walked in” 

“Fuck off” 

When Joel woke up the next morning he didn't feel as tired as he usually does, his back didn't feel as ache as it normally did and tightness in his chest felt lighter than most days. His mind felt quieter than usual. The normal shouting and screaming was dulled by miles of distance.

He chalked it up to having something to occupy his time, keeping him busy so his brain had less time to spiral. Get up. Get dressed. Get to it. He got his coffee and returned to his place on the porch once again, he absorbed the sounds, the smells, the houses around his own, the sharp feeling of the cold morning on his skin. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his head. He could hear music, the crunch of stone, the shower running from inside the house, the neighbour walking around the second floor. 

“Morning Miller” the sound of your voice pulling him out of his daydream, He opened his eyes to see you standing at the foot of his porch. 

“You busy today?” 

///

That was the first time you had taken Joel out on a non official patrol. He remembers the sun beaming down on his back and sweat beads forming in his hairline as you walked side by side along the overgrown trail. The pack on his back felt lighter today, The weight of the gun on his shoulder was eased and the throbbing in his feet was a faded tickle. 

He liked walking beside you. He liked the way your hair fell. He liked the way you smelt. He liked to watch the smile grow on your face when you looked at him. He liked the way you looked at him.

“ Why invite me out today?” he asked “given how talkative you were yesterday” 

You laughed and looked up at him. He wondered if he mistook your seriousness for dislike. 

You let your eyes fall back to the trail. Some of the behaviours Joel noticed yesterday returned, you adjusted your backpack and he heard the snap of your spine in the process.

“I'm sorry about that” You winced when you spoke, your eyes lifting slightly from the trail to gauge your next move and secure your footing "In a world where women like me are beaten down, stolen away, used and left for dead…” Joel peered down at you when you stopped, you refused to meet his gaze as you spoke “I want people to see me as a threat before they see me as anything else"  

Fuck

///

Once you arrived back in Jackson you had asked him to walk you home. The idea of spending more time with you made his heart jump and even with the ache in his back returning and a throbbing pain in his knee, he would walk to the other side of the country with you if you asked. 

He followed you up your porch stairs taking in the exterior of your home. It was small, the front steps bowed from years of pressure and use. The paint on the weather boards peeling and faded with time. The elements had not been kind to a lot of the homes in Jackson, Joel had spent a lot of time looking around his own home and thinking of all the things he would do if he had the resources. It didn't stop at his own and soon he was imagining renovating half the town. 

Your front wire door looked like it was hanging on by a thread and one of the gutters that ran down the side of your home was all but rusted out. 

He stopped when he reached the top step and watched you shove the front door open with your shoulder. You dropped your bag to the left of the door and kicked your boots off to the right. He watched you disappear into the house, he could still hear your voice as he approached the front door, not stepping over the threshold but he wanted to get a glance at your home, it was almost like eavesdropping on a secret or reading someone's diary.  

You didn't invite him in but you also didn't tell him not to come in. I'm just looking. 

Old books sprayed out on the ground near the fireplace, balls of yarn and half finished projects laid out on the daybed in the corner of the room. The whole room was lit up in a soft yellow glow from the afternoon sun, it looked like a home, it looked warm and inviting. He could imagine you sitting on the sofa with a blanket wrapped up around your shoulders, half asleep with a book in your hand or laid out next to the fire, the peaks of your face highlighted in the soft glow of the flames. 

“What are you smiling about?” you asked looking up at where he stood in the door jam. 

“Just lookin” he replied. He felt his palms go sweaty as if he was caught doing something he shouldn't have.   

He looked down at the item you had extended out towards him. You were holding a bottle, the label all but worn off from age and water damage. The seal on the top had been broken and the lid had dents and scratches on it. It looked like it had been used before and once opened used again and again. Take the bottle you moron.

“Thank you” He said as he reached for the bottle “its real nice of you” 

Joel didn't know it at the time but this would be the first of many gifts you would bestow upon him and Ellie. The next thing you would do would be mending his clothes including the socks he was currently wearing.

After that you would be lending him tools and teaching Ellie how to sew ‘a skill that everyone should know’ you would tell her. 

He would come over in the coming days and clean out your gutters before the weather turned and sunny clear days would be consumed by grey skies and rain. He would rip out rotten floor boards on your front porch and replace rusty nails. You would bring him home made meals or fresh bread to which he would invite you in and you would accept without a second thought. He loved how at home you seemed kicking off your shoes and leaving them next to his, throwing your jacket on the back of his couch or hanging it over his. 

He didn't know it now but soon he would be showing you chords on the guitar and swapping books with you. He would be following you out for more non official patrols, sometimes for days at a time, looking for supplies in dilapidated barns and old properties that have been lost to the elements. He would be coming over to your house to drag Ellie home when she was trying to avoid doing homework.

“You need me to help you get home?” a bashful smile laced your face, Joel couldn't tell if you were just flushed from the warmth of your home or if you were blushing. You brushed past him in the doorway and raised your arm with a pointed finger past his shoulder down the street.

Joel’s eyes followed your finger down the street. Seven houses were all that separated you, seven houses and across the street.

“See you neighbour” 

As Joel walked home he couldn't drop the stupid smile that hung from his lips. He slowed his steps as he walked, observing the bottle in his hand as he went. People started returning from assignments to rejoin their families, others turning straight for the Bison in favour of a drink. He listened to distant sounds of children laughing and playing in the streets. The sounds of a neighbourhood filled the air but all Joel could think about was the smile you gave him and the way you looked at him.

///

That was the first night that Joel dreamt about you. It was the first night you pulled him out of a bad dream and you didn't even know it. It was the first night that he went to sleep with your face glued to the back of his eyelids. When he woke up in the middle of the night you were the first thing on his mind. When he closed his eyes and pulled his cock out of his boxers and started jerking himself off he saw your face. What are you doing Joel? He saw your smile and the strands of hair that stick to your forehead. He pictured you laid out by your fireplace with his lips pressed to your neck as you moaned his name. 

Just once, get it out of your system. She’s attractive, I'm only human. It's fine. 

“Just once” he whispered to himself in the silence of his room. 

[femd-archive]

can you do another oikawa x dom reader x iwazumi plz🥺🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

sorry for taking so long to reply! ˙◠˙ omg i love writing for iwaoi, i think it shows with this being the 3th fic that i have for them(ᵕ—ᴗ—) thank u for your request! ♡

BLOWING STEAM

pairing: haikyuu!! — oikawa x iwaizumi x fem!reader

word counting: 2.5k

content warning: timeskip!iwaoi | polyamorous relationship | use of petnames like baby, angel and love | cunnilingus | fingering (female receiving) | masturbation (male receiving) | lots of kisses | might be too cheesy because i love them sm T-T

summary: after a stressful day, tooru and hajime team up to make [name] blow off some steam

side note: english is not my first lenguage, so i apologize in advance for any grammar mistakes

Closing the door behind her, [Name] yawns as she starts taking her shoes off in the entrance at the same time. "I'm home" she announces, putting her backpack down and taking off her jacket.

A mix of soft and rushed footsteps are heard from afar. Soon, both Tooru and Hajime are standing in front of her with soft smiles on their faces, and that sight is enough to make all the stress of her the day melt away.

Tooru doesn't waste time to bring her into his arms in a hug. "Welcome home ~" he litters her neck with little kisses, making her giggle because it tickle.

Iwaizumi reaches out for [Name]'s bag on the floor and picks it up, throwing it over his shoulder. He then turn around again and looks at his partners with a tender gaze, enjoying seeing them express their feelings towards each other so easily and making his heart swell with love.

[Name] catches a sight of Iwaizumi's lovesick face as Tooru finally lets her go, even though he still had an arm wrapped around her waist. "I'm home" she repeats, this time with a more soft and tender tone, looking at her boyfriend like she just wanna melt in his arms, and so does he.

He nods, a small smile drawing on his lips. "Welcome home" he replies, scooting closer to leave a tender kiss on her lips. They linger there for a little bit, lips moving against each other like they don't want this moment to end.

Once they pulled apart —Iwaizumi leaving another little kiss on [Name]'s forehead— they walk to the living room hand in hand, and [Name] throws herself in the couch with a grown.

"Long day, baby?" Tooru asks, reaching a hand to caress her forearm, looking at her with such a tenderness in his eyes.

"Wouldn't you like to know" she sighs, closing her eyes. "The professor was insufferable today. Like, he's the one calling in sick 2 times per week, but it's our fault that we don't have enough material to study from for the finals?" she frows, a confused look plastered on her face, making her boyfriends laugh, "and he's snapped at me for telling him that!"

"No he didn't" Tooru gasps, eyebrows frowning as well.

"What an asshole" Hajime mumbles as he caresses [Name]'s thigh with his thumb.

"I know right? The worst part is that his subject is not even that important for the degree" exhausted, she rubs her hands on her face. "I don't know, for things like this I feel like quitting sometimes"

"Hey baby, don't say that" Tooru scoots closer, and so does Hajime, wrapping their arms around her figure. "I mean, if you want to quit then that's your choice, but don't let an asshole like that professor bring you down" the brunet leaves a kiss on her cheek, caressing her shoulder with his thumb.

Hajime nods. "You've worked so hard to get here to. This is your dream career" he reminded her. "Yeah, some professors can be insufferable, and that's gonna make you frustrated, but we're always gonna be here to listen to you vent and comfort you" he promises silently, keeping up with his caresses on her thigh.

Tooru's voice make [Name] turn around to him again. "We know you're strong, and you've got this, but it's okay to feel down sometimes" he reminds her again.

[Name]'s heart swell with love at her boyfriends' encouraging words, and she hopes she can convain even just a little bit of that love in the sweet kisses she leaves on their knuckles. "Thank you, loves. I really needed to hear that today"

Tooru smiles and leaves a little peck on her lips. "There's nothing to thank, cutie. Just boyfriends doing boyfriend things" he laughs as he watches Hajime attack her neck with kisses once again, smiling at the way she wiggles, trying to get away. "Say baby, are you up to some pampering? Or are you too tired?" making soft circular massages on her knee, the setter asks in a low tone.

"Oh ~ I would love some massages please. I think I have a knot on, like...my lower back" she comments, Hajime now leaving kisses down her shoulder.

Tooru chuckles. "We can get to that later" he moves from his spot on the couch until he's on his knees on the floor, between [Name]'s legs. "I was talking about a different type of pampering" he says with a sultring tone, hands caressing her inner thighs as he looks up at her with big doe eyes.

[Name] bits her bottom lip, already feeling aroused at the simple sight of her pretty boy on his knees for her. She reaches her hand out, dipping her fingers on his silky hair and combing it softly. Tooru closes his eyes, leaning into her loving touch.

"My sweet boy, always so eager to please" she moves her hand to caress his cheek.

Iwaizumi's sudden shuffle makes [Name] look back at him. He undid his embrace around her and she watches as he takes a spot next to Tooru on the floor, cheeks flushed pink as he looks to another direction. Tooru chuckles at his boyfriend's state and leaves a kiss on his cheek, finding him cute, just as [Name] did.

She smiles. "My two sweet boys" she puts emphasis on the number, reaching to caress Hajime's cheek as well, "I'll love to be pamper by the both of you" she bends over to leave a kiss on both their lips. "Thank you, loves"

"Don't thank us before we even make you cum" Tooru winks at her, making [Name] roll her eyes teasingly.

As she lays back on the couch, getting comfortable, she looks down at her boys. Oikawa had already lifted up her shirt, leaving small kisses on her hip as his hand runned up and down her right leg. Iwaizumi didn't fall bahind, also leaving some kisses in the other side of [Name]'s abdomen, his teeth brushing against the skin and softly biting it, leaving some barely noticable marks on there. She sighs, already melting into their loving touch and caresses.

Tooru's agile fingers undid the jean's button in a second, followed by the zipper. Both men moved in sync, taking each side of the clothing and wiggling off [Name]'s legs. Once they were off, they plaster a trail of kisses until they reach her crotch. Iwaizumi leaves a kiss on her clit over the fabric of her panties, and Tooru doesn't fall behind when he licks a long strip up and down, slightly sucking at her clit, also over the fabric.

[Name]'s whole body shake, letting out a shaky breath as her boyfriends continue to leave kisses on her inner tighs. "Fuck..." she whispers, trying to maintain her eyes on both of them as they work together again to take her panties off, finally freeing her wet pussy that lay in front of them.

Their eyes sparkle like it was their first time seeing it. Tooru's long fingers come up to spread her folds, getting them immediately wet. "So pretty..." he whispers, bitting his bottom lip down and looking up at his girlfriend with mischievous eyes. He looks back at Hajime, and Hajime looks back at him, sharing a secret lenguage that [Name] never picked up.

After a few more seconds of their lingering gaze, without warning, Hajime was the first to dive in [Name]'s wetness, making her throw her head back while closing her eyes. His tongue draws long strips from her slit to her clit again, before getting on sucking on it like it was his favorite meal.

Tooru's slender fingers surprises [Name] when she can feel two of them inserting themselves in her, slowly. She looks down on him, who's already looking at her with loving eyes, his free hand caressing her thigh as she gets use to the feeling of his fingers on her. Being so busy, they haven't have time to relax with each other, so it's been a while since any of them felt each other's touch.

"Can I?" the brunet asks after a while, still administrating caresses with his thumb on her thigh. [Name] only nods, sending him a reassuring smile. With that, he starts pumping his fingers, carefull not to hit Hajime in the jaw, but also not painfully slow for [Name] not to feel good.

The room fills up with [Name]'s moans and the wet sounds her boyfriends are getting out from her pussy. It's been a while since Hajime had move to his side, leaving a spot for Tooru to get in and also start lapping on their girlfriend's needy cunt. Now [Name] had to eager puppies, on their knees, eating her out like it was the best part of their day. And yes, it was.

Their tongues brushed against each other, as well as their breath became one, even sending shivers down [Name]'s body at how close their breath was. Tooru couldn't help the tentation, and sucked on Hajime's tongue, bringing them into a messy kiss. Chins dripping with their girlfriend's juice, they kiss slowly; lingering on the edge before attacking each other's lips again.

They pull apart, not before having a little peck, and moving back on [Name]'s waiting pussy. "That was so hot" looking at them through her eyelashes, she mumbles with a little smile.

Tooru smiles. "Mmh, yeah? You're hotter" he leaves a kiss on her inner thigh before diving into her cunt again.

Hajime follows him, and picks up his spot between her legs, both lapping on her folds at the same time their hands started gropping on their hard cocks over the fabric of their trousers. It didn't take long for them to whip them out, and starting to jack off as they savour their girlfriend out. Tooru's wrist motions were more desperate, while Hajime's where slower, most of his attenion focused on lapping [Name]'s folds.

Tooru goes in to suck her clit, closing his eyes as he enjoys her taste and the moans he's taking out of her, moaning for both making his girlfriend feel good and his hand ministrations on his cock. Hajime slips two of his fingers inside of her, pumping them as he looks up at his girlfried in awe, loving her expressions.

Feeling the heat pool in her lower stomach, [Name]'s eyebrows furrow deep, mouth hanging open as she feels her orgasm creeping closer.

"Mmgh, fuck. Guys...I'm gonna cum...gonna cum" [Name] started whispering like a mantra, bucking her hips up the men's faces. She reaches her hands to hold their heads, and both of them stick their tongue out so she could fuck their face, jacking their hard cocks off as they look up at her with those cute teary eyes.

[Name] cums, mouth agape in a silent moan and brows furrowed deep as her hips buck in her boyfriends' faces, clit pulsating as she cums all over their tongues. As she rides her orgasm, she collapses on the cushions as moans finally drags from her lips. She does her best to open her eyes, caughting the sight of her two boys bobbing their heads as they lick her pussy like some puppies, eyes close as they do so. So cute...

Letting out a gasp, her once tense body drops softly on the couch, chest moving up and down as she tries to regulate her erratic breath. Opening her eyes, she looks down at her boys, who are already looking at her with sweet smiles in their wet lips, hands caressing her legs to help her calm down after her orgasm. She smiles back at them, a tired smiled.

"C'mere" she whispers, motioning their empty spots in each side of her.

They climb the couch again, Tooru not wasting any time in kissing her lips, sharing some of her own taste in his tongue as they share a slow sensual kiss. Hajime kisses her neck, patiently waiting for his turn to kiss her too.

As they switch, [Name]'s hands find their way to her boyfriend's neglected cocks, starting to pump them without any other warning.

"Ah ~ baby...there's no need to-"

"Shhh" she interrupts Tooru after pulling away from Hajime's kiss. "It's my turn to treat you right. It's only fair after you treated me so good" shrugging her shoulders, she sends a smile her way and moves her focus on jacking them off.

The men's moans now fill the room in return, along with the squelching sounds of their pre being used as a kind of lube with each stroke. [Name] looks up at them, having a good timing to caught her boyfriends leaning in for a sloppy kiss, moaning in each other's mouths. She bites her bottom lip down. «So hot»

Tooru pulls away from the kiss with a 'pop' sound, hissing as his hand reaches to grab his girlfriend's wrist, wanting her to slow down but not doing more than just hold her wrist.

"Mmh, gonna cum?" she asks, leaving a kiss on his hip, looking up at him with a smile and then switching her gaze to Iwaizumi, who's biting down on his bottom lip, eyes closed as he tries so hard to not thrust his hips into [Name]'s closed fist.

"Yes..." Tooru answers with an airy tone, throwing his head back as he feels his orgasm coming.

"Go ahead, loves" she speeds her hand motions.

Iwaizumi's hand comes up to rest on her shoulder, seeking some kind of support as he feels his legs getting weak as ropes of cum sprout from his tip, landing on her lap and some on her shirt. Tooru follows behind, cumming with his girlfriend's name on his lips, bucking his hips up as his cum also lands on her lap, dirtying her thighs.

[Name] hugs Hajime from the waist as she sees his thighs trembling, also pulling Tooru close to her. They all end up cuddling on the couch, their erratic breaths being the only thing that could be heard on the room at the time.

Coming to his senses, Tooru chuckles, smooching [Name]'s cheek and then moving in closer to kiss Hajime's forehead as the trainer lays his head on the woman's shoulder. "That was so good" he mumbles, "did you like it, baby?" he asks, looking back at his girlfriend and littering her face with kisses.

"I loved it" she responds before kissing the brunet lips. Hajime moves from his spot on her shoulder to kiss her as well, and then being pulled in a more softer kiss with Tooru. "Thank you, loves. I think we all needed that" she lets out a laugh, hands coming to run her fingers through their hair.

"Absolutely" Iwaizumi comments, bringing a hand to scoop some of the cum that was splattered on [Name]'s thighs. "I think we also need a bath"

"I'll go get the water running" Tooru smiles content, kissing each of his partners cheek before getting up, legs still shaking a little bit.

"And I'll order something to eat once we're out" Hajime leaves another kiss on her cheek, putting his boxers on before getting up to look up for his phone.

[Name] layed there on the couch for a few more minutes, a fool-like smile on her face as she melts on the ongoing sensations and the memories of her lovers touch and kisses. She was so lucky to have such wonderful boyfriends.

[rodolfoparras]

Thinking about old man Price trying…rimming for the first time 18+

Pairing: John Price x Male reader

Content tags: rimming, internalized homophobia, age gap

Series/One Shot: Old man Price trying….for the first time i

During his 65 years of being alive he’s spent most of those years being closeted and while he’s had a handful of partners- all which were women, he hasn’t had the chance to try a whole lot of things.

All of his partners very rather simple with what they wanted in the bedroom and almost all of them wanted the same thing; for him to be in charge while he buried his face between their legs or had them down on all four as he fucked them into the mattress.

Price always found himself watching the faces they’d make while lost in throes of pleasure; the way they’d pinch their brows and bite their lips from just a few experimental licks or the way they’d arch their backs and how their bodies would quake as he pushed his tongue into them.

Although most of the time he’d watch them closely to make sure that he was doing a good job, other times he’d watch them closely and almost feel envious.

Price often found himself wondering what it would be like to be in their place, wondering what it would be like for someone, no a man, to bury his face between his legs and eat him out like he's been starved for days, to use rough calloused hands to hold Price in place, and to feel coarse beard hair scraping against his sensitive skin while his hot tongue drags across Price’s puckered rim.

He tends to get so lost in those thoughts that he often finds himself stroking his cock while having his face buried in a cunt. The women would always think he was just really into the act not realizing what he really was fantasizing about.

Price continues to secretly wonder for a couple of years until one day he no longer has to wonder about it.

He feels your strong hands holding him in place, calloused thumbs digging into the cleft of his ass and parting his cheeks easily.

He feels cold air licking at his searing hot flesh, and a familiar heat creeping up his neck ears and cheeks as your gaze burns into his puckered rim.

For a second he can’t help but worry about what you’re thinking of him. Price isn’t stupid. He knows that he isn’t young anymore. He’s got crow feet around his eyes, wrinkles and sunspots covering his skin, and miles and miles of gray hairs dusted all over his body.

In that very moment he realizes that this is how his previous partners must’ve felt when they lay splayed out in front of him.

Even though Price thought nothing but positive things about them he can’t help but worry as he feels your gaze trails over his body. He can taste bile rising up in his throat, white knuckling the pillows and squeezing his eye shut.

However all his worries immediately disappear when he hears you whispers “so pretty” against his skin.

Price finds himself preen at your praise, body arching up into your touch and you can’t help but chuckle at his reaction.

At last he feels coarse beard hair scraping against his sensitive skin, can feel your lips trailing kisses on his cheeks, and he feels his hole clenching in anticipation for what’s about to come.

This is so wrong, a little voice says in his head but it’s quickly drowned out as he feels your warm wet tongue lick a stripe along his puckered rim and within an instant he arches up into your touch as a soft gasp escapes his lips.

He shouldn’t be doing this, the very same voice says in his head but the thought has his cock leaking like a broken faucet and he feels himself push back when you give another experimental lick, in a desperate attempt to keep your tongue inside of him.

The third swipe of your tongue never comes and he feels his eyes snap open as he cranks his neck to meet your gaze and what you see is the sight of a man looking absolutely wrecked, cheeks flushed hair mused as his chest rises and falls at a rapid pace.

“Why -why did you stop?” He croaks out, words rushed and stumbling off of his tongue.

“What do you want sweetheart? Need you to use your words” you say with a soft smile on your face, palm ever so warm as you trace circles into his skin.

Price knows the look on your face, has had the very same look on his own face when he’s had a woman under him, knows that tone of voice, it’s the very same he used to coax out the words he wanted to hear.

Price feels his mouth dry up, heat creeping back up in his necks, cheeks and ears as a wave of shame and pleasure pools in the pit of his stomach as he goes to speak

“Please sir please need you- need you to touch me please”

[marvelouslizzie]

just let me make you feel better

summary: after a long day of work, you finally come back home and rest. your period is making your day miserable but your boyfriend is here to help you.

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader 

word count: 3.2k

warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, period comfort, established relationship, pet names, mentions of menstruation pain, a little bit of period stigma, comfort offering, sexual activity during the period, nipple play, clit play, fingering, after care, obviously blood, unrealistic portrayal of male partners, no mention of y/n.

a/n: I just wanted to write a Bucky Barnes offers to comfort you during your period story so here we are. Unfortunately, this kind of care is really rare so I’m sorry for fucking up your expectations about men. Most of them don’t even do the bare minimum. This concept would shock them but don’t settle for anything less.

Thank you @notafunkiller and @es1dit for beta-reading and helping me better this story. Love you both!

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission. 

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message me or send me a question regarding the stories I write. I would love to talk about it and no, it would never bother me.

Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.

God, you can’t wait for this day to be over. It’s not the worst day of your life, you know it, but still, the freaking pain just doesn’t want to go away. At least, not completely. It finds different ways to crawl back to you and keep you suffering.

You tried a lot of stuff, starting with good old painkillers. There’s no denying that the pill is helping you, but it’s just not good enough. Your back is hurting, joints are feeling sore and there’s still a headache on the back of your head that no matter how many painkillers you take, keeps lingering and torturing you. Like bleeding isn’t enough.

Yeah, being on your period and working at the same time is no fun. It’s not even bearable. Still, you make it through the day and come back just to drop on the couch. You really want to get rid of these clothes, take a hot shower and change into something comfortable, but you just don’t have the energy. Mentally, you are already doing all this stuff, imagining how good it would feel to stand under the hot water and just let it relax your muscles. Yet your legs don't want to move. You just lay on the couch like a bag of potatoes.

As you drift between sleep and being awake, you hear the keys jingling, signaling that your boyfriend is home. Is it weird that you can already smell him while he’s standing across the room? You have no idea but you can. It just feels like something…  familiar. You have no idea how it works, but it makes you feel safe even though he did nothing but step into the apartment.

“Darling?” Bucky calls out because he isn’t used to not being greeted by you when he comes home. Usually, you are either going toward him or yelling “Welcome home, baby” from wherever you are.

You can’t find the strength to call out so you groan a little while raising your hand. God, his expression changes so quickly. He walks towards you at a trot.

“Are you alright?”

“I am.” You are just exhausted, nothing out of the ordinary. Especially not at this time of the month.

“Are you sure? You don’t look alright.”

“It’s that time of the month again.” The worried expression on his face slowly fades away when he notices you are actually alright. It makes you wonder what he thought happened to you, but you don't ask him.

“Oh, darling…” His voice is so caring. Your period completely saps you of your energy and he knows it. He knows how you suffer or what you do to make yourself feel better. “Did you take a painkiller?”

“Yes.” Of course, you did. That was the first thing you thought of.

“When?”

You stop for a second to think. “In the morning and after lunch.”

“So you can take another one now, right?” 

That’s a good question. You can take another pill, but your stomach is already protesting at that thought. You should eat something before taking it, but you don’t feel like cooking. Even the thought is exhausting.

“But first you will need food.” God, is he reading your mind or what?

“I don’t feel like–” Before you can finish your sentence, he’s already standing up and making his way to the kitchen.

“I will prepare something for you.” When your words register, he turns around and looks at you. “You don’t wanna eat anything?”

“No, no. I was going to say I don’t feel like preparing anything.” 

“Oh, that’s fine.” He turns around. “Don’t worry. I will make your favorite.”

You have yet to learn what he means by that because you have many favorites. A meal, sandwich, snack, or dessert? You find out what he means when he comes back with your favorite sandwich, a glass of water, and the painkiller you use only during your period. You love him for paying enough attention to notice that.

“Eat while I draw a bath for you. Warm water should help.”

Why didn’t you think about filling the tub and just sitting there? The thought of laying there for a while sounds so much more appealing than a quick shower. It doesn’t take long for you to finish the whole sandwich and take the pill. Your stomach isn’t protesting anymore, and neither are your taste buds. Still, the pain and that discomfort are there, lingering and making you regret being born. Men don’t have to suffer like this and it’s so unfair! You hate mankind for that privilege. While you are lost in your thoughts, Bucky comes out of the bathroom and you notice: No, you don’t hate the whole of mankind. There’s one exception. You can’t hate Bucky when he’s the most thoughtful person you've ever met.

“The bathtub is ready for you. Did you finish your sandwich?” He kind of sounds like a teacher or a parent, checking if you did everything you were supposed to.

“Yep, all done.” You gesture to the plate. “Took the painkiller, too.”

“Good job, doll.” He comes closer without taking his eyes off of you. “Wanna head to the bathroom now?”

“Yes, but I need to take some clothes with me first.”

“Don’t worry, I will take care of it. Just get in there and relax, okay?”

You just nod with a small smile on your lips. When he takes care of you like this, you feel so lucky and so seen. You never asked him to do any of this stuff for you. Occasionally, you just said “I don’t feel like cooking” thinking you would order take out or you asked for a painkiller, but he registered all that information and started to do things without you asking. Seeing how he paid attention and cared about you just makes you feel valued.

You have no idea how long you have been laying in the bathtub. It was nearly perfect with the bubbles and the scent. You expected him to show up and tell you what to do next, but that did not happen. After a while, you decide to properly clean yourself and drain the bathtub. That’s when you notice he put your towels to warm on the radiator, which instantly makes you smile. You wrap your hair with one and dry your body with the other. Thinking you might bleed around, you quickly leave the bedroom to find your clothes. 

While you are thinking if you should go for a pad or a tampon, you find your missing boyfriend in your bedroom. Your clothes are already chosen and set aside, your favorite pajamas waiting for you.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

“A little better. The painkiller started to work its magic.” You walk towards your clothes to put them on as quickly as possible, still thinking about the blood.

Bucky quickly gets in your way. “No need to rush.”

“No, no, I really need to rush.” He gives you a look that makes you think he's confused. “I don’t have a tampon on. I will bleed on the floor.”

“And?” His tone is so carefree, it confuses you.

“And we will have to clean it, Bucky.” You state the obvious.

“Then we will clean it.” He makes things sound so natural, so casual. Like it’s the most normal thing on earth, but you are conditioned to think that you shouldn’t bleed around, that you should take care of any mess you make.

“You don’t wanna see that.”

“Maybe I do.” His answer comes instantly, surprising you.

“Believe me, you don’t.” You make a move in the direction of your clothes, but Bucky doesn’t let you.

“Bucky!” 

“Darling, I have been fighting for god knows how long. Do you think your period blood would disturb me?” His question sounds so genuine, you stop to think for a second. He has a point, but not really. It's a different kind of blood.

“I mean it’s not the same, is it?” 

“Yeah, it’s not.” The confirmation you expect finally comes. “I’m used to seeing blood caused by violence, not by nature.”

Wait, what?

You don’t know how to react to this. Of course, it is natural, but it is also torture and it makes a mess every time. A huge mess. Usually, your exes were disturbed by the idea, keeping a respectful distance while you were on your period, but apparently not Bucky. His fingers were already grazing your skin carefully. He looks into your eyes, asking for permission silently.

“I really don’t feel like it, Bucky.” You hate saying no to him, but the pain is still there. You are sure it will make things uncomfortable.

“I’m just asking for permission to touch you, doll. I’m not asking for anything else.” He keeps confusing you tonight. 

“What do you mean?”

“Just let me make you feel better.” His answer is simple, but not enough for you to understand his meaning. What does he mean by that?

“I think having you there now isn’t a great idea, Buck. I’m in pain and a little bit too sensitive.” You try to explain as simply as possible.

“Darling… There are other ways to make you feel better, or did you forget about those? Maybe I should remind you, huh?” Gosh, the smug smile creeping up his lips… It sends shivers down your spine. “Just lay down.” He gestures to the bed.

“I will blee–”

“Shh…” He doesn’t let you finish. “Just be a good girl and stop thinking too much.”

For fuck's sake… A good girl? He definitely knows how to shut your brain up. You slowly sit down on the bed and notice a big towel under you. He already thought about everything, so you won’t have to worry. So you can just enjoy this. If that’s what he wants, you can do that. You can shut your mind for a short while and try to enjoy yourself. 

As he lies down next to you, he turns his entire body in your direction and props himself up on his elbow. His flesh fingers start to caress your skin very lightly, making their way to the towel you wrapped around your body. 

“It is time to…” His fingers work quickly to undo the towel. “...take this off.”

He sounds somehow impatient. Maybe just to see you naked or hear the sounds you make while he touches you all the ways he knows you love. His fingers move to your nipple, fingertips grazing over carefully. As he touches you so lightly, another wave of goosebumps washes over you. It's not normal for you to be this sensitive, but your nipples are already hard. Your lips tremble as he moves closer and gives one a long lick.

“God, damn it.” You mutter and he instantly looks up.

“Should I stop?” The way he asks the question shows how concerned and focused he is.

“No, no.” You take a deep breath. “Just be gentle. I’m just…”

“Sensitive, I know.” He smiles and dives back in. His tongue swirls around your nipple over and over again until you start to cry out.

“Fuck!” That’s so unexpected. The pleasure you are feeling is foreign. Nipple play never felt like this before. “It feels so– so good.”

He moves his mouth away with a wet pop just to say: “Yes, surrender yourself to the feeling, darling.” Then he goes back to sucking your nipple, while his metal hand is massaging your other breast. It’s such an amazing change after feeling pain for hours and you can’t help but crave more. Your hips are rising unintentionally. Bucky’s flesh hand moves down to your body, sliding between your folds really carefully, but it makes you push your hips up again.

You've never felt this wet in your life. You are sure your period has a lot to do with it, but god… That’s not the only reason. The way he’s paying attention to your breasts, the way his index finger is working between your folds… It feels like magic. His fingers start rubbing on your clit and the next thing you know you're moaning his name over and over again. Whenever you moan, his tongue becomes more relentless around your nipple. The pleasure hits you suddenly, it takes your breath away.

“Buck–” Your back arches like a bow. “Oh my go–”

He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even hesitate for a second. His fingers and tongue work you through your orgasm until you start to feel a little sensitive. You let a long breath out, proving how satisfied you feel.

Finally, he lets go of your nipple and looks up. Hair messed up, lips swollen and eyes glossy. “How are you feeling?”

“Great.” You breathe out again and it makes him smile widely. So fucking widely… “I feel great.” His hand rests on your pussy while his head is on your upper body. You lean down a little and he meets you in the middle in a messy kiss. God, his lips are the most delicious thing you've ever tasted. They're nearly sweet and just intoxicating.

You sigh loudly, feeling so much better than before. The pain is the last thing on your mind. You actually think about a possible second orgasm already and a little smile creeps up on your lips.

“What?” He asks wondering what you are thinking.

“I think I want a bit more.” 

“Oh, you do?” He is fully smirking now. You just nod while biting one side of your lower lip. “Would it be okay if I put my fingers inside? Would that be comfortable for you?”

“I hope so. We can try and if it’s uncomfortable, I'll tell you.”

“What a good girl you are.”

Before you can say anything in return, his fingers move a little down and he pushes one of them inside.

“Bucky!” The sudden pleasure catches you off guard.

“Sorry, sorry. I will go slow.” He moves himself a little bit up, just to be able to kiss you comfortably. You look at him and excitement is written all over his face. He’s actually enjoying this even though he isn’t getting off himself, and you love how your pleasure affects him. Licking your lips, you close the little distance between you two. 

He kisses you deeply while moving his finger in and out. He’s using just one, but dear god… you are so sensitive. It feels so good even though you aren’t completely filled. Slowly, he pushes the second finger inside, crooking them and rubbing them along a spot where you can see stars. Your mouth suddenly opens as you let out a loud moan. You are unable to kiss him back, it feels like your whole body just tensed up and your muscles stopped working.

“Yes! God, yes.” You manage to say while he keeps on working. “Just like that.”

“Don’t worry, doll.” He speeds up a little. “I won’t stop.”

He keeps working his fingers while kissing your neck. You can feel your second orgasm approaching and it feels so good, but also not enough.

“Please…” You beg without thinking. “Please…”

“Tell me what you want.” His voice sounds so deep, so full of desire.

“Faster. A little faster.” You take a deep breath. “I’m so– close.”

He doesn’t make you ask twice, just starting to move his fingers a little faster and that’s all it takes. 

“Bucky!” You scream so loudly that it surprises even you, but it’s too late to bite your lip. The overwhelming pleasure takes over, making you scream so loudly that Bucky thinks all your neighbors know what you are up to. And he doesn’t care. They should know he is the one making you feel this good. He is the one who makes you forget about your pain and mindlessly moan his name like a prayer.

When you come down from your high, you feel boneless. It’s like your whole body relaxed after the blinding pleasure. Maybe it’s the mixture of the orgasms and the painkiller you took, but you are too tired to care. 

While you stretch your arms, you notice Bucky isn’t next to you anymore. You look around to see where he went and he comes out of the bathroom with another towel in his hand.

“Looking for me?” God, his smile is so smug, but you can’t blame him. The way you just screamed his name without having his cock inside you… That must have boosted his ego. Rightfully so. His fingers are magical. And his tongue. Also his lips. The way he turns you on so much and pulls this pleasure out of you is unbelievable.

“Yes. Why did you leave me?” You know he didn’t but you like to play.

“Just got a wet towel for you.” He kneels in front of the bed, between your legs and you prop up on your elbows to see what he’s doing. He gently moves the towel on your thighs and wipes the blood he smeared while making you scream his name.

“I could clean myself. You didn’t have to.” 

“I know you can, doll. Nobody said you can’t.” He rubs the towel against your slit and you jump a little, feeling sensitive. He notices your reaction and tries to do it more carefully. “I just want to help you.” After he’s done wiping, he folds the towel and puts it away. Immediately after, he grabs your clothes and helps you get dressed: your underwear first (and no, he did not forget about the pads), then your pajamas. In a couple of seconds, you're clean and all dressed up. “Now it’s time to rest.”

You move backward and get under the covers while watching him collect the towels all over the room and put them in the dirty laundry bin. It amazes you how he doesn’t forget about anything. He doesn’t let any small detail bother or worry you. You hear him washing his hands and he comes back with a smile on his face. 

You don’t know how you got this lucky. Having a loving and caring boyfriend like him… Getting taken care of like this… You remember how your friends talk about their boyfriends and how they do absolutely nothing. You know that’s not how a relationship should be, but you also know how rare this is. Your eyes wander back to him while he is getting undressed, showing you how incredibly hard he is. Yet he didn’t even make a move to relieve himself. He didn’t ask for a hand or begged to be inside you like he does sometimes. He put you first and unfortunately that’s even rarer.

He quickly puts on his pajamas and slips right next to you in bed. His arms are already around your waist, pulling you closer. You carefully move your hand down and palm his still rock-hard erection.

“Nope.” His answer is simple yet firm.

“Let me take care of you, Bucky.” You try to say as sweetly as possible. You want to return the favor.

“Not tonight, darling.” He gently moves your hand away. “But I promise, you can do whatever you want to me when you feel better, alright?”

“Alright.” He’s right. You are feeling sleepy already, you can do this another time. 

After all, you are his and he is yours. You have all the time in the world.

He pulls you even closer, putting his head on your shoulder behind your back.

“It’s time to sleep.”

“I love you Bucky.” You say while feeling the weight on your eyelids. It’s hard to keep them open.

“I love you too, darling.”

[tenjikufag]

HII this is my first request ever haha I’m a bit nervous but I saw you write ftm prompts and I was wondering if maybe you’d write ftm zoro and reader knowing but not ever bringing it up BUTTT zoro thinks he’s so slick and therefore is nervous for reader to find out!,, I hope this makes sense thank you for all you write!

Scars.

FTM!Zoro x Male Reader

-nervous Zoro, strawhat!reader, possibly ooc zoro, top surgery mentions, scars, sex trait mentions, loving reader- this is gonna be fluffy don’t worry haha.

-thank you for the request, this has been in my inbox for awhile now I’m sorry for how long it’s taken!

It’s never been a point for anyone to make mention of certain physical traits others had. Everyone just looked the way they looked, scars and all. That and most of you had met after the scars had settled and their stories concluded.

But, some scars gave away a lot more than one would think.. especially someone as airheaded and dense as Zoro. Your boyfriend.

Scars could be a life story. Not just an event.

It wasn’t until a few months in that you had actually noticed the faint scarring under his pecks- really only seen up close or seen when he moves just right while stretching. You knew what they were, and assumed what the reason was and never asked, it didn’t bother or even really matter to you. It would be Zoros job to bring it up, if he ever did- if he never did then that was fine.

Zoro was Zoro. Your boyfriend, life partner, other half, and love of your life.

The two of you hadn’t had any form of intimacy both due to the pure exhaustion from a busy day on the sea or on a new island, and you really didn’t mind. Sure you wished to be intimate but the opportunities were far and few to begin with.

Zoro felt the same, but he had wanted to take you away and have you all to himself ever since he became yours.

It was just the unsteadiness that settled in his stomach when he thought of the aspect of sex with you. Again, he’s dense and doesn’t think that much about it but something inside nags him.

‘He signed up for man with a dick!’

Sighing, he looked out at you speaking to Robin. You laughed at whatever she had said. With his staring, you felt his gaze on you and excused yourself to approach the male.

“Hey, did ya need something?”

Cupping his cheek with a smile, he squinted up at you and shook his head. The way he shifted under your gaze let you know that there was something on his mind and he was a man of few words so it would take time for him to speak on it. Kissing his forehead, you went off to do your own thing again.

Zoro leaned back, resting his head against the familiar strip of wood, drifting off to sleep and avoiding his worries for just a bit longer.

—

Where was Zoro?

That’s the age old question. Having the tendency to wander off paired with his permanently ‘out of order’ physical compass, it was all too common to lose sight of him when you landed yourselves on an island.

This island was small, basically a floating town and not even comparable to a city. Everything was a walking distance to each-other, having to walk maybe 60 paces to hit all the shops and such… how he’d managed to get lost was beyond you, still you’d search for him.

“I’m gonna go find moss-head, I’ll meet you back at the ship.”

Sanji only grumbled in response, his cigarette hanging loosely from his lip as he inspected a vegetable stand.

—

It obviously wasn’t that hard to find him, he was leaning against a tree just on the outskirts of the small town- it made you smile to see him look relaxed.

“Zoro~”

His head turned, a slight smile on his lips as he shifted to approach you. You opened your arms wide, letting him settle against your chest with his arms wrapping around you to your back. The two of you stood in an embrace for awhile, softly rocking back and forth with the breeze.

“Are you alright? You seemed to be bothered back on the ship.”

A deep sigh rumbled in his chest, pulling himself away and bringing you to the tree. The man sat down, waiting for you to follow suit. His rough, worked hand clasped onto yours- fingers intertwined, your thumb softly circling on his hand.

“I love ya.. you know that.”

Nodding, you kept silent. He wasn’t the best with words, much less when someone else was talking- he’d lose his train of thought far too easily.

“And I know we both wanna.. y’know-“

“Have sex?”

You couldn’t help yourself, as brash of a man that he is for some reason he could never bring himself to speak as vulgar as he did with everyone else when he was with you. He actually cared, at least a little bit, about what came out of his mouth.

His hand gripped yours tighter, groaning at you

“Yeah! Whatever! But I gotta tell ya somethin’ so ya better listen. I’m not sayin’ it twice!”

Chucking lightly, he continued. Again, it was clear he was having a hard time finding the words to his thoughts. Could he convey what he wanted properly without feeling overloaded, did he even have the right words in his vocabulary?

“I don’t have a dick. There, I said it!”

You hummed, not being able to keep the light laugh and smile off your face. Who says it like that?! It was just.. very him. Very Zoro to come out with it like that.

“Is that all?”

“Is that all?! All you got to say is “is that all”?!’

Red tinted his cheeks, he was flushed with annoyance and just a light twinge of anxiety. He expected more, or maybe he didn’t, he wasn’t sure! But he sure as hell didn’t expect a boring response like that!

“Bold of you to assume you’d even be using said dick on me.”

Purring into his ear, he shoved you away and took his own hand out of your grasp to cross his arms over his chest.

“Aw, c’mon Zoro! I’m bad at these~”

He huffed, looking away from you

“Okay. How ‘bout this.”

You pushed yourself to your knees and hugged over his shoulders,

“Thank you for telling me, uh, I appreciate the sentiment and I’m sure you feel a lot better. I’m proud of you.”

You pecked the top of his head, his fuzzy green hair definitely needing a trim with the way it tickled you.

Zoro relaxed under you, clearly your words made him feel better. He also knew you didn’t mind, or care for that matter. He was safe with you, his body wasn’t going to be a reason you left (not that he’d let you at this point)

It felt good. To know you loved him, scars and all, no matter what he looked like or what he had.

“Is that what was on your mind back on the ship?”

“Yeah..”

“Why?”

“I was horny okay. It gets frustratin’ knowin’ you’re right there and I couldn’t do nothing about it.”

His words made you laugh, was that really what made him say it?!

“Well.. we got some time left ‘fore we gotta get back to the ship..”

With his back tensing against you, you knew he would be into having some fun here.

“Show me what the almighty Zoro has to give me, I’ve been waitin’.”