#they didn’t rent out a round one so they had guests there with them i think and that sounds very entertaining i can’t wait lol

[akkivee]

BUT I MEAN LOOK AT HAYAMA-SANS CUTE HEADBAND

[planetaryupscaled]

Steamy Vacation

Male OC x Yeji x Yuna

Tags: 5k, cheating, oral, creampie, threesome

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

“Fuck! Yesss! Keep going!” Hwang Yeji moaned.

“Almost there,” Minho told Yeji as he repeatedly impaled the ravishing idol with his cock.

“Little bit longer…almost there,” she said between breaths. “Do it…at the same time.”

Both of them were naked and having sex in the Jeju apartment bedroom. Minho had his arms on either side of Yeji as he was on top of her doing her in the missionary position. She had one of her legs wrapped around him and as her third orgasm of the afternoon approached, she reached up and grabbed onto his biceps.

“Now, Minho. Now! Annhhhh!,” She let out a loud moan as she came, and watching her o-face and feeling her already incredibly tight pussy clamp on his cock drove him to fill the condom he was wearing with his second load with her that day. He lowered himself to kiss her before rolling off of her. She let out a pleasurable sigh, and then said, “I love vacation sex.”

“You’re happy to be out for a bit, or are you happy to be on vacation from your boyfriend?”

“Watch it,” she said giving him a playful slap. She didn’t like him talking about her boyfriend, especially not while they were both naked together. Minho and Yeji’s boyfriend had never warmed up to one another. Minho wasn’t sure what the deal was between Yeji and her boyfriend.

They had been dating for several years, but that didn’t stop her from hooking up with him after that summer time in Busan, at first, he thought it was supposed to be a one-time thing but one thing led to another, now he just consider himself a lucky guy.

You bet he is.

“Sorry,” he apologized.

“I need to take a shower,” she said, getting out of bed and walking naked to the bathroom.

“Want some help?” he asked as he followed her.

“No, we need to get ready,” she told him.

“We have time,” he said as he plopped the used condom into the trash bin.

“Not really, and we both know what will happen if we get in the shower together.”

“I’m not sure if you can, but I can control myself,” He said confidently, but jokingly. She did not give an audible answer, she rolled her eyes at him and then looked down. She slapped his cock lightly, and his erection bobbed up and down for a moment.

“Alright, fair point,” he conceded, “but you know what we could be doing is better than seeing anything on Lotte.”

“Yeah, sure,” she laughed. “Look, I promised Yuna I’d take Hongsam for a walk before leaving, so you can go do that while I shower. This way I don’t need to worry about you sneaking in with me.”

“So you’re kicking me out?”

“Temporarily,” she answered and lightly pushed him back until he was outside the bathroom. Minho didn’t put up a fight and just redressed. He then went to take Hongsam for a walk. Hongsam was Shin Yuna’s dog. The room he was just having sex with was the guest bedroom of Yuna’s apartment, which they rented while performing here in Jeju.

Minho too was visiting Jeju, but he was there for work and was staying at a hotel room that his employer was paying for. He was happy that his trip lined up with ITZY performing so he could see his friend perform on stage.

Though it appears as though Yeji might have had some other ideas for the trip as well. The two went to lunch together, and then she invited him back to Yuna’s place to hang out before the show. And from there, things quickly progressed into them having two rounds of sex on the guest bed.

After about thirty minutes, Minho took Hongsam back to the apartment and gave him a treat for doing his business. As Yeji got dressed, he took a quick shower to wash the sex scent off himself. Once they were both dressed, they got a quick bite to eat since they were planning on having a very late dinner with Yuna after the show.

Yuna had left them tickets and they were in their seats with five minutes to spare before the curtain opened. ITZY was great on stage, though Minho could not help but notice how good Yuna looked. Dressed in black with her legs exposed in black tights. He was still a little turned on from being with Yeji that afternoon and watching Yuna was not subduing those feelings.

Yeji notices after they’ve finished their performance. She saw how focused Minho was on the stage, and it was after the intermission that she thought she noticed a lump in his pants.

“I can’t believe you had an erection,” she laughed.

“Quiet,” he tried to hush her.

“Was that just from watching us, or were you thinking about something else?”

“Hoping I was thinking about this afternoon?” he quipped while waving at Yuna as she came out the door. She waved back but had to sign some fan autographs and take selfies before she could go with them.

“Want me to stand in front of you? Hide any boners you might get.” Yeji said.

“Is that the reason you want to stand in front of me? In case I get an erection, I’ll have someplace to hide it.”

Her teasing him had somehow morphed into some high-level flirting. As Yuna got closer, bringing more people closer to them, they quit talking. Though even when they went to go have dinner with Yuna, Yeji dropped a number of euphemisms and double-entendres during their meal. She told Yuna that they had Minho’s “full attention” throughout their performance. Minho was not entertained by this, but he did his best not to show it and have Yuna catch on.

After they eat, they all went back to Yuna’s apartment. Yuna went right to her room to change into sweatpants and a t-shirt, and then she took Hongsam outside for a quick walk. Minho thought it was time for him to leave, but Yuna told him to stay and they could hang out for a bit when she got back. Once she was out of the apartment, Minho turned to Yeji and snapped at her “What the hell was all that?”

“All what?” she played coy,

“All that stuff at dinner. All the erection innuendos.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Minho paused and thought a moment. “You know, I thought you were just making fun of me, but now I’m thinking that you’re jealous that I might have gotten hard looking at Yuna.”

“There was no might about it,” she snidely replied.

“See I knew it.”

“Look, Minho, I’m sorry you had a HARD time at dinner, but you’re crazy if you think I was jealous of anything.”

“I’ll show you a hard time,” Minho snapped back and lowered the fly on his jeans. Yeji excitedly bit her lip as she saw him reaching into his pants…

When Yuna got back to her apartment, she heard some strange sounds and noticed that neither of her friends were anywhere in sight. She took off Hongsam’s leash and gave him a treat before she went to investigate. She followed the sound to the hallway and before she rounded the corner she heard a loud moan from a woman. Turning the corner, she found her friends in the hall.

“What’s going on here!” Yuna exclaimed. “I can’t believe you two.” Of course, it was extremely obvious what was happening. Yeji was braced against the wall in the hallway with her pants down just above her knees, and Minho was right behind her with his pants below his ass, and his cock pumping in and out of Yeji.

“Oh God, this isn’t…ummm…” Yeji tried to think of something to say.

“This is exactly what it looks like,” Minho said and then withdrew his cock. Exposing his condom-wrapped hard cock to Yuna, with it glistening in the hallway light from her friend’s pussy juices.

“Wow, she was pretty wet, huh?” Yuna said as she looked at his cock and took a few steps forward.

“Yeah, she is,” he agreed.

“Let me ask, are you hard because of her, or because you are still thinking about me on stage?” Yuna asked, and Yeji laughed. Minho’s head quickly snapped and looked at Yeji.

“You told her? When?” He wanted to know.

“I texted her about it as soon as the show was over.”

“So the whole time you were making subtle jokes during dinner?” he asked Yeji.

“I knew what she was doing,” Yuna answered.

“Don’t worry, I found it flattering.”

Yuna then grabbed hold of his cock. “Maybe we should take this to the bedroom,” she suggested.

The three of them quickly moved into the guest room.

Yuna had Minho sit on the edge of the bed and she dropped down to her knees. She yanked off the condom and began sucking his cock. While Yuna hungrily sucked his dick, Yeji stood nearby and began stripping out of her clothes. Once naked she got onto the bed with him. She and Minho began kissing, and he reached out and began fingering her. Yeji moaned into his mouth when she felt him slide a second finger into her. Yeji eventually reached down for his cock that Yuna was still sucking on. Yeji’s hand replaced Yuna’s on his shaft and she began stroking him while Yuna’s lips and tongue focused on the tip. Eventually, it was all too much for Minho. He could no longer even concentrate on trying to kiss Yeji, he was just lost in the feeling of pleasure he was getting on his dick.

“So how is she?” Yeji asked.

“Soooo good.”

“Is she better at it than me?”

“No chance I am answering that,” he said smartly.

“And you really don’t want to play that game,” Yuna teased Yeji before going back to giving him a blow job.

“Well, you do look good with a dick in your mouth,” Yeji teased her back. Yuna responded by flipping her off.

“She is right, you do,” he told her honestly.

“Yuna, I’m going to…”

“Then do it already,” she told him. Like with Yeji, Minho and Yuna had hooked up dozens of times after that summer in Busan. Also, just like Yeji, Yuna was currently dating a guy that Minho disliked. While Minho never got along well with Yeji’s boyfriend, it was Yuna’s that he really didn’t much care for. He could not understand how they ever got together or why they are still together.

Normally he could feel Yuna swallowing as he came into her mouth, this time he could not. He found out the reason for that after he finished cumming. Yuna dragged her lips off his cock with a pop before opening her lips to show him all the jizz she’d collected in her mouth. Yuna then got up off the floor and moved to Yeji. She grabbed her by the back of her head and pulled her in for a kiss. Minho watched as the two pretty idol kissed, and saw Yuna push some of his cum from her mouth to Yeji’s, with some trickled down the sides of both of their lips as they kissed and snowballed his cum.

Even after they had swallowed all of the cum, they continued to kiss. Yuna was the aggressor, and Yeji fell backward to the point that Yeji fell backward.

Yuna did not allow Yeji to escape and crawled onto the bed, so her knees were right on the edge with her feet hanging off of it, and her hand propped her up as she leaned over Her teammate before bending back down to kiss her some more.

Minho, just like any other guy in his position, could not help but get aroused by the sight next to him. If his dick deflated at all after the blow job, it was now back to full mass. He took off his shirt and kicked off his pants and boxers, which had pooled around his ankles as Yuna began to suck his cock again.

With Minho and Yeji now naked, there was only one person in the room who was still wearing clothes. Yuna except for having no shoes, was still dressed as she was when she took her dog out for a walk. That did not last long. Minho got off the bed, positioned himself behind Yuna and yanked down her sweatpants. She had a pair of white panties that were soaking. He could clearly see how wet they were.

He put his hands on Yuna’s ass and bent down to look at her flawless backside. Her smooth-shaven pussy was literally dripping wet as he ran his tongue along her slit, licking up all her excess juices. Yuna sat up and moaned as she felt his tongue. She then turned around to face him when she felt his tongue pull away.

“Don’t tease me…” she pleaded.

“Trust me, I’m not,” he told her and then slid his hard cock inside of her. She was so wet that despite being crazy tight, he had no issue sliding his dick into her. Yuna moaned and smiled back at Minho, who began to fuck her from behind.

“God I missed this,” he told her. “You feel so good… so tight.”

“Nnhhh yesss,” she said with pride about how tight she was.

“Ahhh, I’ve missed this too,” Yuna told him as he slowly began working his dick in and out of her.

Despite Yuna laying on top of her, Yeji was feeling left out of the action. She reached up and gave Yuna’s hard brown reddish nipples a tweak. Yuna let out a bit of a yelp when she felt her nipples suddenly being played with.

“Oh, oh, wow, already, ugghhh,” Yuna moaned. It had only been a few minutes, but Yuna was so aroused even before Minho had his cock in her that it didn’t take long for her to reach the point of near orgasm. She grunted as her pussy gushed as she came, dripping down onto the bed she soaked the bedsheets beneath her. Minho pulled out of her and Yuna rolled over onto her back.

“That was a good one,” she said, sounding satisfied.

“You know, I was on the verge of something close to that before you interrupted us earlier,” Yeji said, reminding the other two that she two was still on the bed.

“I can help you out with that,” Minho replied.

“You, better,” she told him. She had him lie down on the bed and was quick to get on top of him. She was quick to sink down on his dick and began riding him. While she was on top of him, Yuna slid next to him.

“Doesn’t she have the cutest nipples,” Yuna whispered to Minho as she watched her friend methodically grind on her snatch on top of him.

“Yeah, she does,” he agreed, as he reached up and cupped her tit and ran his thumb back and forth over her small nipple. Yeji moaned as she felt her tits being played with. Minho groaned as Yuna kissed the side of his neck. Having one idol ride him while the other kissed and rubbed his chest made him even more excited. He then grabbed Yeji’s hips and started thrusting his cock up into her. Yeji’s moans were getting louder as he fucked her hard and fast. After a few minutes, he flipped her over. Once again Yeji was on her back with Minho between her legs. She raised her legs and spread them wide as he pushed back into her. Just like the afternoon, Minho and Yeji were doing it missionary. However this time, Yuna was right there with them.

After stripping off her shirt and removing her pants completely, Yuna went back and forth kissing both of them. Now with Yeji on her back, Yuna’s hands roamed over her friend’s chest, playing with her tits. Looking over at Yuna, Minho could not help himself from reaching over and pushing two fingers into her tight cunt. He fingered her for a minute before pulling his fingers out and sucking them clean. Minho remembers the first time he ever went down on Yuna, and he couldn’t believe how good she tasted and still tastes just as good now as she did then. He then pushed his fingers right back into her, which caused Yuna to moan right into Yeji’s mouth as they made out.

After several more minutes, Yeji got the orgasm she desired, but Minho still continued to pound her pussy. He thought about pulling out and driving back into Yuna, but she whispered something in his ear that made him change his mind.

“Are you close,” Yuna asked between neck kisses she was giving Minho.

“Kind of,” he grunted.

Yuna then moved right up beside his ear, “Cum in her,” she whispered, giving him a devilish smile. Unlike Yuna, Yeji almost always made Minho use a condom when they hooked up. He was so caught up in the moment that when he switched between the two women, he didn’t think about a condom. Now that he had noticed it, he was becoming increasingly aware of how her pussy felt around his cock. He then began fucking her faster, harder.

“Ohh ahnn, fuck!” Yeji called out in response to him taking things up a notch.

“That’s it, Minho,” Yuna encouraged. “Fuck her good, and fill her.”

“Fill me?” Yeji asked. “Wait, condom.” You’re not wearing a condom?

“No,” He informed her.

“Ahh…shit…” she said.

“Just let it happen. You know you want it,” Yuna advised Yeji. She thought for a moment, as Minho continued to rail her.

“Fuck it…” she gave in.

“Slut,” Yuna giggled at her.

Minho’s response was to grab Yeji’s legs from out on the side and move her legs up over her head. He continued fucking her hard as he had her folded in half.

Yuna repositioned herself behind Minho as she watched her friends fuck. She encouraged him.

“Stop holding back and do it, she wants it, breed her.”

He could feel her tits pressing into his back, her hands moving around his body, and her lips working on his neck and shoulder between whispering into his ear.

He looked down at Yeji’s face as he thrust into her. He could feel the build-up rising in his balls, and the look on her face said that she was closing in on another orgasm as well.

“I- I’m gonna cum,” he announced, giving Yeji one last chance to back out. She just gave him a simple acknowledgment nod as she moaned. He gave three more pumps before burying his cock deep inside her.

“Oh god, Minho,” Yeji moaned as she felt the steady stream of cum filling her unprotected womb.

When he did finally stop and did pull out, Yuna was right there to polish his dick clean of the mix of his and Yeji’s cum. Though Yuna did have ulterior motives as well. Even after she had given his cock a spit shine, she still kept blowing him for a bit longer, not giving his dick any chance to go down at all. Once she felt his cock twitching in her mouth, she knew he was ready to go.

She had Yeji move up on the bed and then she laid down herself between Yeji’s legs. Yuna then went to town on her friend’s well fucked pussy, freshly full and leaking with cum.

Yuna then lay on her stomach in front of him. He knew she loved to do it prone, and he had an open opportunity to do that, but he was going to put that on hold for a minute. He had already creampied Hwang Yeji; there was no way he was not going to do it to Shin Yuna as well, but first, he was going to eat that pussy.

Minho got down low and spread Yuna's legs. Feeling him move her, she gave up little resistance and allowed him to move her body as he pleased. With her legs now open, he then spread Yuna's ass with his hands, allowing him deep into her while burying his tongue.

For the next several minutes, the three of them were laying in a straight line. Minho laying on his stomach eating Yuna out, who was laying on her stomach eating out Yeji, who was on her back. Yeji was the first to cum, as she cried out while grabbing onto the bedding which between sweat and cum was becoming wetter and wetter.

Before Yuna could have one of her own, Minho pulled away from her. She let out a disappointing groan. That groan was soon replaced by a sudden squeal from the petite idol as she felt Minho wedge his cock into her cunt. Yuna was still eating her friend even after Yeji orgasmed, However, she soon became too distracted to continue. She almost had an orgasm from his tongue as he took her prone on the bed.

“Yes, Minho, keep going,” Yuna moaned.

She was now holding onto the bed tightly. She was so close that she began rocking her body back into him. It was only a matter of time, Minho could feel the buildup happening, and then suddenly she popped. Yuna cried out and once again she drenched the bed below her as her body twitched in orgasm bliss. Minho pulled out as soon as he felt her cumming. God knows he loved that feeling from her, but he loved it a little too much and was not ready to be done with her.

While Yuna was cumming, and then coming down from her high, Yeji moved in and she repeated what Yuna had done and sucked his cock clean of the other’s juiced. Once she had sucked him clean, both Minho and Yuna were ready to take things to the next step.

Neither were usually much for reverse cowgirl, but there was a full-length mirror across from the bed and on the far wall. He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled Yuna on top of him. She sat right on his cock and began to bounce on it. The two of them are looking at each other in the mirror. She has a bright smile on her face and her perky tits are shaking as she bounces up and down on his dick. For the first two minutes or so, Minho is just happy to observe Yuna. Putting aside the sensation of her tight pussy gripping his dick as it moved up and down the shaft, seeing a naked Yuna bouncing like this made him feel extremely lucky.

Eventually, he did get into the action, brushing her hair over to one side, and then moving his hands around her body. One hand when north to cup her breast and the other traveled south between her legs. As she had done to, him, he began kissing the side of her neck as he rubbed her clit and tweaked her nipple.

“You know this was what I was thinking about when you were on stage, right?” he said into her ear. “As good as you looked on stage, I couldn't stop thinking about your sexy body and how you'd look doing all that without anything on.”

“That’s why you got hard?”

“Um-hm,” he said as he kissed her neck. “And then my mind went to how much missed the feeling of cumming inside your tight pussy.”

“Maybe you should stop thinking about it and do it already,”

“You want that?” He asked her.

“You know I do,” she moaned. Minho had her spin around. She was now sitting on his lap, facing him, with her legs wrapped around his back. With their faces just inches apart now, they began making out as they fucked. Yuna rolled her hips while on top of him. He did not give her any warning before cumming. He just moaned into her mouth as they kissed and let it go. Exploding his load into her. When she felt him cumming, she moaned right back to him and her nails dug into his shoulder. Even as he was cumming she continued to move her hips until she got off once again as well. After they finished, they moved back and laid on the bed next to Yeji, who had been fingering herself while watching her friends fuck .

The three of them all lay in a pile in the guest bed for a few minutes, catching their breaths and coming down from the sexual high. Yuna suggested that if they were going to go to sleep, they should all go to her bedroom. She didn’t say why, but they all knew the why. Between sweat, cum, and vaginal fluids, the sheets on the guest bed were at a minimum moist, and in spots were just flat-out soaked. So they got out of the guest bed and headed to the master bedroom, but before getting back into bed it was suggested that they should all take a quick shower first.

While they washed the sex off of each other, there was a significant amount of bumping, grinding, and touching as they shared the shower. Some of it was unintentional, some of it not so much. The bumping increased as Minho’s shaft swelled to its full size. Yeji and Yuna enjoyed teasing him.

Although the teasing from the two pretty idols was becoming a little too much for him. He finally snapped when Yeji dropped the loofa and bent down with her straight legs and her ass pointed right at him as she went to pick it up. He couldn’t help himself and quickly moved right up behind her and thrust half his cock into her.

“Ahh! Fuck!” Yeji yelped in surprise.

“Tell me to stop, and I will,” he told her as he pushed the rest of his cock inside of her. She said nothing, so he began fucking her. Yeji raised back up a bit and put her arms out to brace herself against the shower wall. Yuna was not going to be left out of the action. She moved to the side of both Yeji and Minho. With one hand she pulled his face down to kiss her, and with her other hand, she moved it between Yeji’s legs and teased her clit.

“Oh god, seriously Yuna?” Yeji moaned and questioned her friend as she felt her love button being played with. Not to leave her out, Minho moved a hand between Yuna’s legs and fingered her while the two of them made out as he fucked Yeji. With the two of them working on her, Yeji did not last long. She let out a moan and her leg buckled as she came. Minho grabbed her around her waist to make sure she did not fall.

Once she was steady on her feet, Minho pulled out of her and turned to Yuna. She then wrapped her arms around his neck and leapt up. Minho grabbed her body and quickly had his cock completely embedded in her. As they fucked, Yeji gave herself another long rinse under the shower spray before leaving the stall.

“You two have fun,” she said then gave him a long loving kiss. “Thanks for today,” she told him before stepping out of the shower and wrapping herself in a towel.

Meanwhile, Yuna and Minho were lost in their own lust-filled world, aggressively fucking against the glass of the shower stall. Yuna had her back against the glass with hands holding onto the top of the shower above, and her legs over his shoulder. The two were going at it, until Minho tried to readjust his stance and almost slipped on the shower floor, nearly bringing them both tumbling to the floor.

After that, they briefly stopped what they were doing, turned off the water, and exited the shower. They did not move far as they set up right on the large bathroom countertop. Yuna stood in front of the counter and bent down at the waist, pushing her ass back against him. He quickly got behind her and lifted her leg onto the counter before sliding his manhood straight back into pristine her pussy. As they fucking on the counter they maintained eye contact nearly the entire time through the mirror.

“God, Yuna. You feel so fucking tight” he groaned.

“Ehm-mm, anhhh, fuck…”

“I can't hold out for much longer.”

“Cum inside me...pleaseee, Anhhh…”

“Turn around!” he said.

Yuna had barely gotten her foot on the floor when Minho grabbed her hips, spun her around, and lifted her onto the counter. He quickly inserted his cock back into her. After two more pumps, Yuna expressed her desire for him to unload inside of her.

“Now Minho, do it now!” She demanded him and his cock busted, and that feeling got Yuna to hit her climax as well. They both came hard. He moved in to kiss her, and they exchanged a series of kisses, as euphoria from their orgasms died down. They cleaned up a bit and went into the bedroom and saw Yeji sleeping in the bed. Minho had to work the next morning and debated heading to his hotel at that point in the night.

Yuna asked him to stay and when he was still on the fence, she promised him a morning blowjob before he left. That made his decision an easy one. He set his alarm for a few hours and got into bed with his two idols friends. Yuna slept on her side in the middle of the bed facing Yeji, while Minho slept on the other side spooning Yuna.

Yuna kept her word and gave him a blowjob when his alarm went off the following morning. Minho got a great start to the day before heading to his hotel room for a quick shower and change of clothes before heading out to work.

—

Yuna called him later that night.

“Hey, do you mind coming over on Friday and taking Hongsam for a walk after you’re done with work? I can leave a key for you at the front desk.”

“On Friday? Yuna you know that’s my last night here. I was planning on going out with people after work.”

“I know, but I thought you could help me out and then we can do something after the show.”

“So you want me to take your dog out and then just hang out at your place alone for a few hours?”

“Yes, but I would put it as more as, I was hoping you’d be waiting in my bed… preferably with your pants on the floor.”

[lennadanvers]

His Home

Johnny Soap MacTavish x Ace!Reader

A/N: I'm a day late to Ace Week, but I really wanted to post this. I'd love to see more ace representation in fanfiction, so I'm doing my part. Plus, this kind of relationship has always been my favorite- there's something about undefined love that makes it perfect. I really like this one, so much that I wrote it while studying for my History exam. I hope you love it too, happy belated Ace Week!

Ghost is the first one to ask about it.

About you.

It’s late, you went to bed an hour ago, and Johnny offered him a beer. They’re looking at the empty front yard, a normal street in a normal neighborhood- a rare sight for soldiers of their kind. The food you and Soap made for the occasion sits warm in their bellies. The air smells of quiet and night.

Simon has known Johnny for a long time- and he has known him well. He didn’t know about this, though. He heard about you, of course. The first time Soap wasn’t sure if he’d make it back home, it was your name he mumbled. Instructions were clear: his dog tags were for you to receive. Along with everything else in his barracks. Ae dinnae care aboot all the rules. Ye gotta take me home tae ‘er.

Ghost knew you weren’t married- he would have seen it in his sergeant’s paperwork. He decided you were his girlfriend, then.

Until someone flirted with Johnny at a bar, and he happily told them he was single. Single. It didn’t lead anywhere, anyway; he came back to base with the rest of the team that night. Maybe he didn’t have a bird at home anymore, thought Simon.

But then there was the roommate. Soap was always talking about the roommate, how she would always leave hairs in the shower, how the laundry detergent smelled like flowers back home. It was said with fondness, the kind of affectionate jab one develops with family or very close friends. Ghost supposed you might be a childhood friend, then. Someone who had always been in Johnny’s life.

Come the end of their last mission, he had nowhere to stay at. His apartment was waiting for him, of course, but it was as empty and cold as any hotel room. His sergeant invited him home- tae meet ma girl. His girl. That was not a relationship status- no friend, no sister or girlfriend. Just girl, his girl.

He had to say yes.

Then there were you. Johnny’s age, bright eyes full of affection when you saw him. Small, soft hands ruffling the mohawk, saying it was getting out of hand. Nodding when he asked for another trim, bonnie, aye?

You hugged him around the neck, face under his chin. Ghost feared you would suffocate his sergeant. But Johnny’s face was pink, relaxed for the first time since before the mission. His arms were at your back, hands rounding your waist- they were used to that place. His nose deep in your hair- Simon felt like he was overstepping, like he wasn’t meant to see that. No one was.

Until you gave a step back- soft smile, soft eyes, soft Johnny- and welcomed him to your home. You called him L.T., like you knew him. Simon suspected you did. You didn’t try to shake his hand or- God forbid- hug him hello. You didn’t even risk a step into his personal space. He didn’t think it was out of fear- you didn’t blink twice at the black surgical mask. You just smiled and gave him a tour of the house.

That was another thing, the house. Tiny and tidy, cozy. Ghost didn’t have much experience with homes, but that’s what it looked like to him. A place lived in, well loved. A place with a past. Even more intriguing, a place with a future. By the way you talked, he gathered you weren’t renting. This place was owned. Something for the long run.

When you got to the hallway, though, you pointed to the last door. That’s my room! You can knock if you need anything, I’m a pretty light sleeper. Then to the one before that: That’s Johnny’s. Then the guest bedroom and the bathroom.

So you don’t sleep together.

Which would have been an answer to his curiosity, if it weren’t for the kitchen. After he left his stuff- a half-empty duffel bag- in the guest room, Simon went back to the small but charming space that is- all in one- your kitchen, living room and dining room. He was still in his soldier headspace, which means his steps were quiet. When he stepped into the kitchen, neither you nor Soap noticed him there.

You were laughing, hand on his bicep, eyes closed. Johnny was smiling. His shoulders down, his face soft. He grabbed your hand and brought you closer in a weird hug. You swayed together, and Simon almost heard the music you were dancing to. It went on for a while. Johnny went to grab a knife and you’d already placed the cutting board in front of him. You grabbed the oven mitt and he opened the oven.

You two are the perfect machine, always knowing where the other is going next. The smiles never falter. For the first time in years, Simon feels like he’s in a home. It’s confusing and startling. How come Soap has this waiting for him? How is he even able to go on deployment, knowing he might not have the chance to dance around you in the kitchen again?

The thought sparks memories. Soap’s sketchbook, a gleaming eye peeking from the page. His tactical jacket, jasmine perfume as they march through a field. A hair tie in the keychain. Gunpowder hands buying a bracelet in a faraway country. Making flower crowns while waiting for the target to show up. Dodging bullets with blue fevered eyes. Take me home tae ‘er.

He cleared his throat, and you handled him the plates to set on the table.

After dinner, you said goodnight. Johnny kissed your cheek; I left some beers in the fridge. Another kiss on the forehead. You waved at Simon, sweet and tired. Soap’s eyes followed you through the hallway.

Out in the cool night air, Simon asks.

“Tha’ ‘er?”

Soap flinches in his seat. The bottle in his hand twinkles under the stars. Doesn’t seem willing to reply. Maybe he doesn’t know how.

“The one from yer drawings?”

The nod is soft.

“Aye.”

Interrogation is an art. Ghost knows many ways to get information out of people. None of them work better on his sergeant than silence. The man has a need to fill empty spaces.

So he waits until Johnny takes the bait.

“A’v always known her.”

Another silence. Simon doesn’t need to ask the question out loud.

“We arenae datin. She isnae ma girlfriend. Or wife,” Jhonny’s voice is warm and liquid. “She's the love o ma life.”

Curiosity bubbles again. How does this life fit with the man out in the field? How come a cozy little house is home to a demolition expert?

“How’s tha’ work?”

Soap’s shoulders tighten, preparing for a defensive stance.

“She doesnae want sex.”

That’s not quite an answer, so Simon waits. Johnny’s back relaxes slowly, as if relieved by the lack of a reaction.

“But ‘a dinnae care aboot all that stuff. She's here whan ‘a come home, an she takes care o’ me. A tak care o’ her. Thare's nothin more than that.”

Nothing more he could ask for. Nothing more he’d ever want. His eyes glow blue, melting ice in the night. Ghost wonders, surprised, how he never saw it. How he didn’t realize.

After that, he doesn’t ask any more questions. There’s nothing else he’d need to know, really. When the bottles are empty and the air a little too cold, they retreat to their rooms.

The next morning, Simon stays in bed a little longer than usual. He listens to your soft steps in the hallway, the little knock on the door and Johnny’s raspy laugh. He hears the sheets and the whispers, the way he tells you stories about their last deployement- some true (only the lighter ones), the rest made up, with a handsome, Scottish hero. He pictures you tucked in Johnny’s side, his hand in your hair, easy smiles lighting up the room. And he understands. Once again, his sergeant’s words sound in his head.

A dinnae care aboot the rules. She’s ma girl, L.T.

[look-at-the-soul]

A night at Delux

Modern Tommy Shelby

Master list

Author’s notes: This story is for you, in no particular order @zablife @runnning-outof-time @red-riding-wood @teenwolf-theoriginals @justrainandcoffee @brummiereader I’ve had the main idea in my mind for weeks after driving past a luxury restaurant daily, I think it’d still haunt me if I didn’t write this one down lol… anyways I decided to a few names of lovely mutuals. This is a small nod to you all for the amazing work you do and in an attempt to cheer you up or anyone who might need it at the moment. If for whatever reason you feel down, without inspiration, worried, or anything else, know that it will pass. This particular moment that feels like too much won’t last forever ✨I just hope/wish you get what you are looking for. And to anyone else going through anything hard right now, this is for you too!

Ps. Don’t panic the fandom isn’t falling down, I just felt the need to dedicate this story to lovely mutuals to spoil and cheer them up a bit 🤗

Last but not least, extra 🌟 to @blondie-22 for creating this gorgeous moodboard!! 💖

Word count: 3,245

Friday night had been quiet compared to today, it seems like everyone decided to go out on Saturday and go to that club, as if there wasn’t enough options in the city.

Y/N swallowed hard feeling worried, this was her second weekend working at the club and she wanted to give a good first impression and save as much money as possible.

Her other job as secretary paid for the rent and services, but she needed to have this second one on the weekends to support her grandmother and her medicines.

As the hostess, she was requested to wear a total black outfit, so she thought her little black dress was the right choice, it was fitting for her shape, it wasn’t too revealing or short and one of the girls, Red had suggested spraying some lidocaine on her feet to be able to stand all night in those heels. She quickly adapted well to the group of girls that worked there, they were all so nice to her and welcoming.

“Ready? I’ve an amazing list prepared.” Lee, one of the girls walked past her, ready to take her place at the DJ booth.

“Last week was hectic, I’ve a feeling this will be crazier.” Y/N expressed fiddling with the guest list for the night.

“Here, drink this.” Brummie, another of the girls came closer placing a glass next to Y/N. After a week, Y/N learned the reason for that nickname was her strong Brummie accent even after all the years she left the place.

“Go easy on the drinks, she makes them strong.” K chuckled. She was the first one to welcome Y/N into their little girls-gang as they called themselves. The only ladies working in a place owned by men.

“Doors opening in ten.” The manager advised, taking one more look at the place, waiters were ready. “Make tonight a good night everybody.”

Lee started playing the music then, experimenting with some new beats, she mixed a couple of the new hits. Lights down, Y/N took a deep breath, approaching the door.

“They better leave good tips tonight.” Red raised her eyebrows. She was in charge of promos, she was great at convincing people to order another round of shots, or if it was ladies night and they got 2x1 on special drinks.

“We’re in your hands Red.”

“I’ll do my best ladies.” She replied through the device they shared to communicate.

“Alright, it’s about time.” Y/N rolled her neck. “Lee, we’ve a party of six tonight, celebrating a bachelorette, could you include some anthems?”

“Absolutely darl.” Lee then turned up the volume of the music.

“If someone sees that baker, let me know?” Rose appeared then at the bar, she had been hiding in the office, she was in charge of detecting any potential trouble from the monitors.

“Sweetheart, everyone knows he’s not a baker.” Lee informed her, talking about Alfie.

“I haven’t seen him, so I wouldn’t know.” Y/N called from her place.

“Oh he’s just the most handsome man ever.” Rose swooned.

Y/N chuckled, the club would be the last place where she’d find love, she just knew that. Walking towards the door, the guard opened it for her.

She started searching for the name she was given in the guest list. A group of girls wearing exaggerated make up and deep cleavage plus the shortest skirts or dresses where the firsts ones to make it in. She was totally against it, but it was an unwritten rule to let people in, the more skin, the better.

But she wasn’t there to judge anyone, let the girls dress as they preferred, in the end she wasn’t the one getting wasted and dragged in the end of the night to throw up outside. She was there just for the money. Another table was filled by three men, they were older and dressed in button shirts with ripped jeans, as if it was an uniform for them.

Y/N thought how it was funny to try to guess their backgrounds, where they came from and with whom they might leave the club. She was just trying to make the time pass faster.

In no time, the club was packed, but outside there was still a bunch of people trying to make it.

People tried to give Y/N money to get in, some were even rude to her but the guards took charge into the matter and invited them to leave.

“I made a reservation, could you check again?” The young guy requested politely.

Y/N started reading the names again, but by the corner of her eye, she caught someone skipping the line. “Ah, excuse me? Sir?”

The man who was already by the door, turned around slowly, opening the zipper of his jacket. His death stare made Y/N feel a shiver running down her back.

“There’s a line you’ve to make and wait.” Three more men arrived and stared at her with amused expressions. “Name?”

The man blinked and rolled his tongue over his lower lip. “Shelby. But you won’t find my name there, love.” Y/N saw him stopping the three other men with his hand.

“Then you’ll have to wait in the queue.”

For an instant, his expression was so transparent and Y/N knew he was offended.

“I’m sorry, but I’m just following orders.” She apologized and shuddered under his intense blue irises.

“Oi!” One of them, the one with a mustache tried to step closer.

“Arthur, leave it, we’re going to follow this lovely lady’s order and wait.” He then turned to face her again. “Accept a sincere apology for trying to get in.” He then winked.

The well dressed men followed his instructions and stepped back. Then she focused on the next people on the guest list, guiding them inside.

Barely a minute went by when Lucas, the manager grabbed her by the arm, dragging her inside in a blunt movement that made her go alert.

“What’s wrong with you?!” Lucas snapped, spit flying from his mouth. “You left the Shelby brothers outside! The fucking owners of this place.”

Just as Lucas was explaining Y/N her mistake , Tommy walked behind her, with his brothers following his steps.

“That was a first Tommy.” John grinned. “The first woman who doesn’t let you walk in as the owner of the place, and you did nothing.”

John was definitely having fun at Tommy’s expense. Arthur couldn’t help the smirk on his lips, but he tried to hide it behind his hand.

“Yeah, yeah she was only doing her job.” Tommy tried to excuse the hostess.

There was something that took him by surprise and startled him.

“And you walked back to the queue like a dog with the tail between the legs.” John went off again.

Tommy dragged his eyes across the club, he needed to know more about her. So he walked towards the bar.

“The usual Mr. Shelby?” Brummie asked her boss from behind the bar, he always waited to be served at his table.

Slowly, he posed his eyes on her, considering his options. “Please.” He replied then, clearing his throat.

“Here you go, I’ll take the other drinks up in a second.”

“Thank you.” With a nod, he turned his back at her and slowly strolled across the club. Although he had security, he always checked his surroundings.

After a while, he found the manager. “Lucas, come here.” Patting him on the back, Tommy asked him about the hostess, she was just passing by in that very moment, but Tommy noticed the quick glance she threw at him.

“Again, I’m sorry it happened Mr. Shelby, she’s new but it won’t repeat.”

“No problem.” He added calmly. “What do you know about her?”

Lucas shook his head, he didn’t care about the staff personal life. “Not much, but I’ll investigate her.”

In that moment, Tommy’s eyes found her, arms linked with the girl in charge of the checking the credit cards records.

“Damn it, I made a huge mistake, I’m so so done.” Y/N cried in a low voice. Worry written all over her face.

“What did you do?” Rose squeezed her shoulder.

“I didn’t know it was him.” She babbled. “I asked Mr. Shelby and his brothers to wait in line for their turn to get a fucking table.” Y/N explained over the music.

Rose stared at her for a split second and then bursted into an incontrolable laugh. “No you didn’t!”

“I did Rose! I did… and now he’s going to fire me.”

But she kept laughing. Trying to take a deep breath she sent their chat group a message urging the other girls to meet in the back.

You’re not gonna believe what Y/N did, she’s a hero! - she announced proudly.

“I can’t imagine the face he put on, must’ve gone like a stone.” Rose pinched her arm playfully.

Lee programmed a couple of songs to play automatically, Brummie left the bartender in charge while she claimed a quick bathroom trip. Red rushed the guys on the table to pay her for their drinks and tip.

As the group gathered in the back, they we waiting eager to hear what had happened.

“Our newest friend here, made the boss wait in line to get a table.” Rose announced ceremonially, pointing at Y/N.

She wasn’t trying to make fun of her, just trying to have a moment to relax.

Y/N groaned mortified, she kept shaking her head. Overthinking of what would happen.

“Nice way to get the Shelby’s attention.” Red pointed at Y/N with a smile, enjoying the teasing.

“Can we ask for the CCTV footage?” K asked. “I want to see him in the line.”

“I was looking for you,” Isiah one of the blinders appeared suddenly, “ladies how are you doing? Y/N… Mr. Shelby wants to see you.”

A chorus of ohhh’s from the girls filled the space.

Then, the girls started cheering on her.

“There she goes.” K sighed.

“Do you think she’s in trouble?” Lee looked around the group.

“Well it depends…” Red crossed her arms. “Hopefully he’s in a good mood.”

“I doubt it to be honest.” Rose raised an eyebrow skeptically. “But maybe she knows how to tame the beast.”

“Oh oh, if there’s group meeting it means something happened?” Mia joined the girls, she asked permission to arrive later that day. She had some personal affair to attend.

K placed her hands on Mia’s shoulders. “You just missed the fun, but I’ll make a short version while we prepare some drinks.” They were both in charge of the bar.

“Last time we had an urgent meeting, Michael got arrested.” Mia remembered with a chuckle.

“Oh, this is better than that.” Red assured before going back to the crowded tables.

As Y/N followed Isiah, her heart was pounding, grabbing her phone she texted her friend, Heidi.

I think I messed up, BIG.

A quick answer appeared on her screen, in the background a themed photo illuminated the phone, beautiful shades of green reminded her of nature and hope, it was made by a really talented friend.

What happened?! Are you OK?

Yeah. No… I confused the owner of the club and asked him to wait outside and make the line!

Her phone buzzed again.

No way! Tell me how it goes.

If I don’t reply back he probably let me blind. Carries a peaky cap with a razor blade.

Y/N took a deep breath and checked her phone again.

Don’t worry, I’m sure it will be fine. Her friend encouraged back.

She just prayed to not mess it up again and start babbling, arriving at the private area where the Shelby’s were she quickly tried to fix her short hair and bangs.

“Good evening,” her voice was shaking, her legs and her heart, everything! “I’d like to apologize for what happened earlier, I’m new and didn’t know any of you.”

Her eyes landed one more time on who seemed to be the leader, those icy eyes boring into the deepest part of her. His lips were pursed in a tight line.

“It’s okay, love. Don’t worry.” He couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

“Yeah, now me brother wants to find a way to speed the line up.” One of them explained, blowing his smoke towards the ceiling.

“John.” The man with the blue eyes warned. “Nevertheless, I’ve to thank you for keeping the line in check.”

His deep accent and the way he dragged each word gave her chills.

“Thank you, well that’s my job.”

“Here drink this.” Another of them, the one with a mustache offered her a glass. “To a very good job!”

The two youngest were whispering something and staring back at the leader.

“It’s alright, really.” Tommy assured her after seeing the fear in her eyes.

“Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.” The one he called John a moment ago suggested.

“Again I’m really sorry.”

“Y/N is it?” He rolled his tongue over his lips after saying her name. “It’s alright.”

“Just so you know, I’m John, so you don’t mistake me again.” He had a huge grin on his face. “This is Finn, Michael and Arthur.” He started pointing out at everybody. “And that’s Tommy.”

“I won’t forget your names.” She repeated them mentally. “Enjoy your night, I’ll bring you another round.”

Y/N excused herself and went back to work. He was wearing a simple white shirt with a jacket and black jeans, but somehow he made it look effortlessly good. She was trying to focus on the people in the guest list instead of those eyes that reminded her of the most beautiful sky.

She smiled at a couple that walked past her dancing to the beat of the music.

A table next to her exploded in shouts and claps as K and Mia arrived with their shots and sparklers.

From the second floor, Tommy was watching her every move, eyes following her everywhere, studying her moves and the way she approached clients.

Arthur waved his hand in front of Tommy’s eyes after he didn’t listened to what he said.

“Tom? What do you think?”

Finn nudged John’s arm, tilting his head towards Tommy.

Tommy took a long puff of his cigarette, pretending to be part of their conversation.

“Hmm?”

“Earth calling Tommy.” John teased. “He’s still waiting outside in the queue.”

Shooting John a death stare, he asked Arthur to repeat himself.

“Shall we call some women up?”

“Whatever.” He cleared his throat and stood up making his way through the club.

Talking to security, they informed him they kicked out a customer that got noisy and aggressive, but other than that, it was a quiet night. Everything seemed to be under control, the place was packed, everyone wanted to get in, live the experience and have the status only Delux could offer. He knew it was the best club in town, many club owners tried to copy his place, but they all failed, they tried to copy the details that made his club unique, it screamed luxury and good taste.

Eyeing Y/N across the club, Tommy decided to walk towards her, she was focused on the list before her eyes, swaying her hips to the beat of the music, pouting her lips murmuring the words… he could only imagine how would them feel against his, while his fingers tangled in her short hair.

Before he could reach her, she then turned her back at him to walk in the opposite direction, but abruptly, she changed her mind and turned around again, bumping into Tommy’s chest in the process.

“Mr. Shelby! I’m really sorry.” He could tell she was mortified, embarrassed.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” Tommy reluctantly took a step back.

Y/N hoped her voice wouldn’t crack. “Do you need something?” Battling her lashes slowly at him. “Can I take you your drinks upstairs?”

He was startled by her overwhelming beauty, under some kind of spell by her voice and smile. It had been so long since he felt so captivated by someone… Shaking his head slowly to clear his mind, but she thought he was saying no to her.

Taking that as her cue to leave, Y/N started walking away. “Well if you need anything, let me know.”

“Actually I do.” Tommy managed to say, making Y/N turn to face him once more.

Everything happened in a blink, he grabbed her by her face and kissed Y/N, not able to resist the desire any longer. But when she answered the kiss with the same eagerness and placed her hand on the back of his neck to pull Tommy closer he lost it.

Guiding Y/N towards the wall, he trapped her between it and his body.

Kissing her hard, he tilted his head to the opposite side, relieved to feel her matching his desire. Feeling one of his hands, brushing down from her waist to her hip and then down her leg, she added some pressure on his shoulders.

“Someone can come.” Y/N warned him breathlessly, his lips barely away from hers, just what was really necessary for her to speak.

“I don’t fucking care, I own this place.” Tommy told her right before kissing her again with passion.

Squeezing the flesh of her thigh and he felt as if he had whiskey injected in his veins.

Y/N moved her head back slightly, that left Tommy with his mouth hanging open in an almost sensual kiss that had just slipped away from him. Opening his eyes after the failed mission, he found her bitting her lower lip playfully.

His blue irises darkened under the dim light.

“I really need get back to work or my boss might fire me.” Y/N explained before stealing one more quick peck on his lips and bending down to free herself from him, left Tommy leaning against the wall with his heart pumping so fast that it felt like he was having a heart attack.

He chuckled quietly at her statement.

Going back up, he stood looking down at the people at the club, his eyes scanning the place until he found that pretty little thing that with just one kiss, made him feel more than anyone else.

Feeling som eking of pressure on 5e back of her head, Y/N turned around and lifting her eyes, she found Tommy staring at her from the second floor. Raising his glass at her, he added a wink.

Y/N felt her cheeks blushing and smile quickly spread on her lips. Checking the clock, she walked towards the door it was about time to not let anyone else in.

“Your lipstick is smeared dear.” Mia pointed out.

“Damn it, really?” Worryingly she went back to the bar, to check her reflection on the mirror behind all the booze bottles.

As the girls started to ask her what had happened, she got another message on her phone.

Think you can send me back to the line twice and get away with it twice? Meet me in my office once you’re done. -Your boss.

She gasped. He oozed trouble from every angle, the one that won’t let you get up from bed after several rounds.

He was practically the bad boy your grandmother warned you about.

✨ thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed a little spiced story 🔥

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[katsheadinclouds]

Summer nights, you and I

Lucien Flores x f!plus-size!reader

summary: You explore your feelings for your high school sweetheart, who comes to your birthday party.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, bad communication, mention of drinking, no mention of pronouns for reader but body parts are mentioned, reader wears a dress and has hair, smut, car sex in a public place, unprotected PiV sex (wrap it up folks!). No use of y/n. Not beta read. If I forgot something, let me know!

word count: 3.7k

notes: Happy birthday weekend to me! Yesterday, when I saw the new pictures and videos of one mr. Lucien Flores, my brain got fried, and inspiration hit me. I ended up writing this thing in the middle of the night and thought I’d share it now to celebrate me turning 30!  

dividers by saradika

He watches you mingle in the crowd, eyes following your every move. People talk with him, to him, but the words slip out of his head as soon as he hears them. He watches as you laugh at a joke someone tells you. He watches you listen to someone. He watches the arch of your lips when you answer someone’s question, how your tongue drags over the softness as you wet them before sipping on your drink.

He knows you’re aware of him. He sees it in the way you turn around if you get too close to him. He sees your head twist away after you’ve locked your eyes on him when you think he hasn’t noticed. It’s in the way you pretend to not see him even when you’re facing him, trying to force yourself to stay present in the conversation you’re engaged in.

But every few seconds your eyes drift to watch him past the guest’s face. Your shoulders tense up, you breathe a little deeper, and you try so hard to not let his presence deter you from the deep desire to keep your head straight. You told him that you two can’t keep seeing each other. You told him that repeatedly; every time you came knocking on his door at odd hours of the night, every time you called him to ask if he was free the next weekend, every time you sighed out his name when his mouth was buried between the roundness of your thighs. It was a reflex. A chanting wish to keep yourself from him.

Yet every time you came back, saying the same thing, “we can’t keep seeing each other like this.”

He had looked at you under his brow, ready to indulge you in the orange gloom of the streetlights glowing in through the window. “How do you want to see me then?” He mocked.

He didn’t expect to be pushed on his back, your fingers gently around his throat, your hot palm against his feverish skin, your lips against his ear, “I don’t,” you whispered. Almost like it was an emphasis on your resoluteness, you rose to your knees and guided him into you. Your arousal pooled instantly at the base of his cock when you heard him moaning.  He dug his fingers against your ass and helped you ride him until your thighs were burning. Here you were, trying to meet all your guests in the dusky garden you had rented for your birthday party. “I don’t want you there,” you had said when you gave him the invite.

“Then I won’t come there,” he answered.  You gave him a long look, your fingers pressed against his before you turned on your heels and left his place before the sun rose.

Here you were, avoiding him at your own party, trying to act nonchalant about the man who you wanted in every way but never wanted to admit it even to yourself. You knew how people saw him. How they’d see you if they knew about you two.

You were always the good one, ready to help, never backing out even in the bleakest situations. People trusted you, and you gave all of them a reason to do that. Lucien on the other hand, he is nothing like you.

He has always been the quiet rebel, the one with the free spirit who sometimes disappears without a word to chase his dreams and wants. Untrustworthy, ready to jump when everyone else expected him to stand still. You can’t accept that he has changed, even when he tries to prove it to you.

You knew you couldn’t get attached like you had when you two were teenagers, with heated cheeks and coy smiles. Back then you were shy and your hands always shook when you wanted to touch him. Even if it was just to hold his hand or to push his unruly curls off his eyes.

The kisses back then were timid, full of nerves, when either of you weren’t used to having someone so close yet. The teenage romance ended before it even had a chance to properly start. He left and you stayed. Your tears were never ending, they dried out your soul. The hope for feeling like you had someone you could trust to stand with you, to have someone in your corner, withered away. It was by accident when he saw you again. At a coffee shop on a busy Tuesday morning. He could recognize your voice from a mile away and the smile in your eyes when you thanked the barista for your coffee. And the curve of your lips that you licked with the tip of your tongue before you took a sip.

He didn’t know if he should call out for you or let you go. He did neither. He was on his feet before he had the chance to decide, and stood in your way as you were heading outside with your takeout cup, smiling at something on your phone. You almost crashed into him, barely catching yourself before you spilled your coffee on his chest.

“Excuse me,” the annoyance was palpable, but when you looked up and saw his face, the realization hit you like a train.

“Lucien,” you half whispered with wide eyes in the full coffee shop. He was so close he could smell the mint in your breath from your toothpaste.

“Long time no see,” his mouth found a crooked smile and you gasped out a laugh, not believing that he was standing in front of you, not knowing what to do next. It wasn’t forbidden. The love he feels for you, or the love you feel for him. You’re protecting yourself, he knows that. You don’t want to feel like you’ve lost something when he decides to leave again. You don’t want to find yourself alone again. You don’t want to feel like you’ve been abandoned again.

You were inseparable for a while. He was a lifeline for you when you felt most lonely, without friends and belonging in any group that had formed at school. He was a friend, first and foremost, then your first love.

By the end of it he was nothing when he followed his dad to another state one summer. So, you keep telling him that you can’t meet anymore. That it’s not wise to see each other anymore. That this is the last time, before you come back again and tell him the same things again and again. “Happy birthday,” he finally finds you alone by the drinks table, catching your breath after all the socializing and meaningless conversations with people you’ve collected throughout the years to make yourself a safety net that has holes in it. You had said it yourself, “I don’t belong with these people, I don’t know why I think they’re my friends.”

“Thank you,” your quiet voice trembles when you face him and look at him deep in his eyes.

“I have something —,” he begins, but is cut off by the other people who burst into explosive laughter. The sound is a mix of joyful and horrifying at the same time, too loud yet held back.

“Come,” he takes your hand and pulls you away towards the gates of the garden, getting further from the party and the droning chatter with every step. You hold onto his hand with your fingers twined with his and let him take you anywhere he wants.  

He opens the doors of his car but pulls you to his chest before pushing your back against the side of the ride. Your hands reflexively reach for his shoulders and drag him in. Your hungry mouth is about to repeat your script but gets distracted by his lips and the wet glide of his tongue against yours. “What were you about to say out there?” You groan when he sucks at the soft flesh right under your jaw.

“That I have something for you,” the low murmur of his voice makes shivers run down your spine. Your hands don’t shake anymore when you reach for his kisses, when you reach for his belt and pant against his mouth when the now familiar feeling of his tongue fills your mouth. Smoothly he reaches behind your back and pulls the door open, leading you to the backseat. The pleasant mildness of the night feels scorching in the closed car. The windows are fogged up and your hand is slipping against the glass when he buries himself snuggly into you. Your breath catches in your throat every time he reaches that place deep inside you. He makes you discover the fine line between pleasure and pain with every stroke.

He’s careful with it, making sure you never cross that line to painful but teeter on the brink of it. Who would’ve guessed you’d be getting fucked in Lucien’s car by the end of the night, sweat pouring out of your pores, feeling spread open and the intense pleasure with every stroke of his cock in the tightness of your pussy, electrifying your spine and travelling in waves up and down your back. He licks at the side of your neck, a long stripe from your collarbone up to your jaw. He plants soft kisses along it until he reaches your lips. Slowly he lifts himself up to look at you, hovering over you.

His arms are like a cage on either side of you, your leg trapped against his arm. If you were to straighten it, your toes would tickle the dark lining on the roof of the car. The chains around his neck sway with every thrust, all ending up tickling the centre of your chest. You reach for them and wrap them once around your finger.

“I want you to be rough,” you tell him. He looks at you, the seriousness in your eyes. He’d like to wipe away your fears, your need to push him away while simultaneously pulling him in. He considers it, giving you what you ask for. But it’s only part of the script you’ve written in your head to feel better if he were to leave again.

“No,” he says and leans down, touching his lips feather light against yours. He rocks down and watches you take a deep breath. He feels you pulse around his cock, adjusting to the slow invasion. “I’ll give you rough when you believe when I say I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.” He sees your resolve crumble immediately. You’ve been caught, you both know it. You’ve kept yourself from feeling anything for Lucien while feeling so much for him at the same time, so much so that it has turned overwhelming. Your protection has turned into self-sabotage when he’s the one reaching out while he watches you build even higher walls around yourself.

He moves slow, almost pulling out completely, before pushing back in with a slow roll of his hips, until his pelvis is flush against yours and another breath is drawn out of your lungs. You wrap your hand around the back of his neck, your fingers winding around the curls at the base of it, forcing him to hold his forehead against yours. The chains slip from your hand and hang loose once again. They tap against your chin with every little move he makes.

“I want to hear it,” his voice rumbles and buzzes in your ears. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, while he demands your attention with the push of his hips. The arm that was supporting your leg at the bend of his elbow suddenly secures the sole of your foot against the passenger seat while your ankle presses against the center console.

You open your eyes just as you feel his fingers slip between your legs, his thumb finding your slicked clit without much trouble like he has mapped out how you like to be touched. He gathers even more of your wetness from around his cock and circles the sensitive nerve endings in sweet circles, making your eyes roll back into your head and your back arch off the leather seats.

“Tell me,” he demands softly, bringing you back from losing yourself to the pleasure. He doesn’t stop touching you, only slows down the circles, just like he slows down his thrusts to be a continuous movement, in and out, keeping your pleasure on high alert and your orgasm ever present, but not letting it take you away from him, not just yet.

“What?” You gasp out when he once again reaches deep, tilting his hips up.

“Tell me you believe I’m not going, and I’ll give you rough.” You moan out at the feel of his thumb suddenly losing pressure for it to only move up and down against your clit.

The words are on your tongue, catching the humidity of his breath. You’d want to believe him, you’d love to believe him. But you can’t.

You know this isn’t the first time he’s back in the city. He has come and gone many times, and you’ve only heard about it afterwards, when he’s long gone already. And every time, even when you hadn’t seen him, it had reminded you of how he left when you were still a couple of kids, trying to navigate the world that seemed too big and too small at the same time.

You’d want to tell him you believe him. You’d want to have enough faith in yourself to not break apart when he will eventually leave. You’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months now, but the fear is still there, only growing stronger. You wait for the moment, when he’s just gone.  

You force yourself to look at him in the eye, to see the dark pleading in them. To believe him. He sees the same in yours. To not hurt you. He shoves himself in you and holds the tears in your eyes with heartbreak in his.

He gets it. There’s nothing he can do, or say, to make you change your mind about him. He pushes himself up and runs his large hand down your soft side, his thumb tracing the line of your bra under your breast.

You brace yourself for what he’s about to do when your request from earlier hangs heavily in the humid air between the two of you. His eyes rake down your clothed front, sees the budding bruises of his mouth right by the edges of your bra. Your dress, which he hiked up to your waist, has gathered the few drops of sweat that have dripped down from his face.

Last, his eyes fixate on the gleam of your lips around his length, how he still hasn’t stopped the push and pull of his hips, drawing out more and more of your slick. He thumbs at where you’re joined, earning a groan from you that invites him closer to cumming. It’s your final warning for what’s to come.

The air smells of sex, heady and thick. He grinds his teeth together and breathes deep. His thighs are on fire from kneeling between your legs for so long. Some of the seams on the seats chafe against his legs.

“Just do it,” you cry out. Your voice isn’t only asking for him to take you however he pleases. You’re pleading for him to do what you expect from him. To take what he wants, and to leave.

Without waiting any longer, he digs his fingers into your hip, squeezes the supple roundness of your bottom and slams himself into you, starting a ruthless rhythm. You scream out before you manage to cover your mouth with your hands. You breathe harshly between your fingers while he takes and takes, forcing you to gasp out your moans.

It's too much, his hold, his thumb on your clit, the thickness of him between your legs, in you, his grunts and heavy breaths that intoxicate you. You love to hear his voice when he’s close. It’s the most erotic sound you could ever think of. You record it in your mind, only to repeat to yourself when you know thinking about these moments together won’t cause too much pain.

He does this thing where he reaches deep inside you, presses his whole length against the squishy, most sensitive parts of your flesh, and uses it with abandon. You can’t hold in your moans behind your hands anymore; the sound only turns into whimpering screams.

He doesn’t stop. He’s giving you what you wished. Your birthday wish. He abuses the softness of your pussy repeatedly. He forces your palms off your mouth and wraps his hand around them to push them against the door so you can scream your pleasure into his mouth.

Your blissful climax topples you off your awareness. There’s only Lucien, guiding you through your orgasm with slowing thrusts when you squeeze around him. He gasps into your mouth and licks into it, against your tongue, and lets you ride it out, but he doesn’t stop.

He listens to your whines and makes them the sound that encourage him to cum. With weak arms you fight his hand off yours, and wrap them around him, the other under his silky shirt, the other in his thick, damp curls.

You kiss him with newfound fervor, barely hanging on to your rationality while he makes you forget yourself in the intense pleasure. Pins and needles run up and down your skin, it’s almost painful.

“Let go for me, Lucien, cum for me,” you manage to mumble against his lips. He gives out a ragged moan when the grind of his hips stutters. His whole body trembles. Sweat pours down his temples, down his neck, and his chest glistens in the half light of the hidden parking lot with a blush that has crept up to his cheeks.

He catches his breath against your neck with shuddering exhales, his moans heating your skin. You massage the back of his neck and allow yourself to close your eyes. You imagine what it would be like to let him love you, to let yourself relax without any uncertainty.  You’re still split open by him, and if you could, you wouldn’t mind staying like this for longer.

Lucien opens the door and lets the cooling night air slip into the car. You push yourself up and with shaky fingers try to close the buttons that will hide the hickeys he left on your breasts.

He leans his head back against the headrest. He pushes his hand through his drying curls, leaving them tousled. You try your best to make your hands stop shaking, but they don’t. It almost seems like it’s getting worse.

“Let me,” he whispers, and you’re met with his quietness as he reaches towards you and steadily fastens the small buttons, covering your skin.

“Lean back,” he tells you and you do as he wishes. He gets something off the floor, which you recognize as the lace of your panties. He maneuvers them on you, and up your legs until you have to push your hips up and you replace his hands with yours. He sees the mess between your legs, his cum that is slicking the insides of your thighs.

“Was this what you wanted to give me?” You ask, almost hopeful that he’ll say yes. He looks up as he lifts his own hips to pull his trousers back up the rest of the way, closing the button right under the softness of his belly.

He shakes his head once and accompanies it with a chuckle. His eyes stay the same, rich and admiring, serious and playful at the same time. He buttons up his shirt while you put space between the two of you.

Suddenly, even after all the times you’ve fucked, you’re nervous. You don’t like to feel vulnerable around him, when it only means that you’re putting yourself at risk.

“No,” he finally says and reaches for the center console between the two front seats. Inside is a small box that he hands to you.

“Happy birthday.” It comes out so much deeper than it did before, full of the remains of his lust for you. You take the box and manage to get it open.

“It reminded me of you,” he says when you see a small, dark green gemstone pendant on a thin chain. You swallow against the dryness of your throat and touch it with the tips of your fingers.

“Let me,” he tells you softly and takes the box from you. You turn your back to him and close your eyes to fight the tears that are threatening to spill onto your cheeks.

The chain feels cool at first, but then burning hot when he closes the lock behind your neck and traces the metal against your skin. You turn back towards him and look at the gem between your fingers. Even in this faint light you can discover vivid red flakes on the surface.

“Thank you,” you reach for him and close him inside your arms. He buries his face against your neck and kisses it, the chain pressing between his lips and your skin.

“Want to go back?” He asks and with a trembling sigh you separate from him. You let him pull you out of the car and to your feet.

He straightens your clothes. The dress you chose to wear just because you knew he’d like it on you and which you hoped he’d take off you. He brushes his thumbs under your eyes and over your forehead and combs his fingers through your hair to make you look at least somewhat like you weren’t just fucked in someone’s car. The fresh air clears your head. It cools the deep burning in your chest and the dripping cum in your panties. It lets you close your heart from him again.

“Yes,” you say and lead him back towards the party, while you’d want to turn around, get back into his car and ask him to drive you away from here. He could take you anywhere, and you wouldn’t say no.

[obsessedfics]

Remade Gojo x Reader (Mature/Explicit)

Gojo Satoru Fanfic 

Rating: Mature (Explicit Sexual Scenes)

Word Count: 12k+

Summary: It has been 10 years since you left behind the world of being a sorcerer. You experienced too much hurt to ever want to step back foot in that world, even if it meant never getting to give your heart closure. You worked behind the shadows, executing curses to alleviate pressure on the students who attend Jujutsu High. One day on your way back from your mission, you meet an unexpected guest...

I wrote this because this man has been living rent-free in my head for the past couple of weeks and it needed to be done. I simply can't just write smut, I need substance. So here is my dirty little fic for ya'll. I hope you enjoy it!

Note: I posted this on Ao3. This is all my writing I promise, just posting of different platforms for more people to enjoy. 

Faster…  I have to run faster.

You ‘stumbled’ on a nest of cursed spirits. You were now running at a deadly pace to lure them into your trap – hundreds of cursed tools poised and ready to kill every last spirit. 

Sweat ran down the length of your spine as you finally rounded the corner of the alley, immediately skidding on the concrete, using your cursed technique to shoot the weapons forward, meeting their destined targets.  

Shrieks rang out through the alley from the dying spirits, blood staining the stones beneath their bodies. 

Without looking back, you summon your own cursed spirit, Osu. You named it, even though you knew you shouldn’t. With the raise of your hand, Osu opened their mouth as you summoned the cursed weapons, funneling them one by one into Osu. 

“Good work,” you smiled, affectionately patting the top of Osu’s gray leathery head. The spirit seemed to pur in response, leaning into the warmth of your hand. 

With that, you sent the cursed spirit back to the in-between, which is what you called the shadows you send your shikigami to. 

You sighed deeply.

It seems there are more and more cursed spirits these days. I left the sorcerers of Tokyo 10 years ago, but it seems I am still doing their dirty work. 

With a look at your blood-stained clothes, you sigh once again as you make your way back to your apartment. 

The citizens of Tokyo walk by, blissfully unaware of the danger that lurks in each of their mundane thoughts. Lights of neon billboards light the smoggy night air as cars speed past your relaxed figure. 

You used to hate them. People who didn’t have a cursed technique or couldn’t sense cursed energy. For how weak and useless they were, how they contributed to the problems you had to clean up. The lives of friends that have been lost that you’ll never get back. 

After the Star Plasma Vessel incident, you were convinced that you no longer wanted to be a sorcerer. You were on a mission in Nagasaki when it happened. You were ordered by the higher-ups to return immediately to protect the vessel, Riko Amanai. 

As soon as you received the order you moved, getting to Tokyo in just 6 hours. 

But you were too late.

Toji Fushiguro had successfully killed Riko Amanai, and disabled Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto. This was the first update you got. The second was when you arrived in Tokyo. Satoru killed Toji Fushiguro and secured Riko’s body. 

You shivered as you entered your apartment. You remembered Satoru's face that day of Riko’s memorial service, cold and emotionless. 

That day changed everything. For everyone…

“Hiiiikaaarrriiii~?” you called into the room, flipping on the light switch to find someone sitting on your couch. 

“Yo,” 

The familiar voice called and you stopped cold, keys falling out of your hands. 

Your cat, Hikari, lay in his lap, soft belly up, purring at the sensation of his long fingers scratching her. 

Traitor. 

You quietly cursed your cat as you crossed your arms over your chest, pulling a cold mask over your shocked features. 

“Satoru,” you say coldly narrowing your eyes at the man who you haven’t seen in 10 years. Instead of heavily tinted sunglasses he now wore a black band around his eyes. Now he dressed casually instead of his usual black uniform. 

He’s not here on business.

His laugh sounded through the room, light and airy, but you knew it was fake. You had spent too much time with him, even now, you knew him like the back of your hand. 

“I never thought you would be so cold towards me, y/n!” he smiled, the kind of smile he displayed when he wanted to be friendly, but knew he would win whatever argument he was in. 

I’m annoyed. 

“Satoru, I am no longer a sorcerer. I have no place in your world. I declared as much all those years ago. Leave.”  your voice was so stern it made Hikari rise from her place in Satoru's lap and come caress your leg as if comforting you. 

He paused for a moment, smile dropping from his face, as he studied you. He peeled off his blindfold, exposing those brilliant blue eyes. A stark contrast against his moon-pale skin and silver hair. The world seemed to rest in his eyes as they seemed to sparkle with life. 

You didn’t falter. Instead, you held his piercing gaze, refusing to bow to the man you once loved hopelessly. 

“I came to warn you. So before you try to kill me, hear me out.” 

Your eye twitched at his words. A taunt mixed with sincerity. He had always been a cocky arrogant bastard, but his expression was so serious it scared you. So much so that you nodded and sat across from him. 

“Nice place, by the way.” he offered and you scoffed in return, telling him with your eyes to get to the point. 

He held up his hands, took a deep breath, then spoke. 

“In the next few years, the Jujutsu world is going to change.” 

If it were anyone else, you would’ve punched them for telling you bullshit that doesn’t involve you but… That serious expression didn’t leave his face. 

“Which curse is it?” Satoru held no fear for himself, but rather for everyone around him, including civilians, ever since Riko.

“A first-year name Yuta Okkotsu showed up with a cursed sword imbedded with a high-class curse named Rika. Geto attacked him…” 

Geto? I knew Suguru defected, but to attack a student? How far gone is he?

Satoru swallowed and then continued. 

“Geto is dead… But y/n, this is just the beginning. There’s a group collecting Ryomen Sukunas fingers.”

You didn’t hide your shock. 

“They’re trying to resurrect him…” you whispered, nearly to yourself but he heard you while nodding, confirming your suspicion. 

“That’s why the curses are gathering in greater numbers, they’re feeding off the chaos. My guess is the group is trying to bring the glory days of the curses back. Which means –”

“They’re going to raise the number of sorcerers, but they can’t do that with you around.” 

Your eyebrows knitted together.

What are you getting at, Satoru?

“Exactly, I don’t know how they plan to disable me. But when that happens, they’re going to need you y/n. Innocent lives will be lost if you don’t step in, but it has to be at the right moment. They’ve forgotten about you, about your skill how your strength was second to mine…” 

You were already shaking your head. The thought of going back to that power-hungry world. That bloody world… 

“Y/n think–”

“No,” you said breathlessly, Satoru's emotionless face of that day flashing in your mind. How he was a hollow shell for the remainder of that final year. 

It broke something inside of you. You had seen so many deaths, but to see him, the man who smiled so carefree and bright be rendered to… That? Sure, he gained a deeper connection to his power, but at what cost? 

“Y/n,” he said your name, voice softer as he reached across the coffee table, his warm fingers brushing yours. 

“No, Satoru. You don’t know what you’re asking me to do.” 

How could he? Your feelings were one-sided, to begin with. 

Back then, you watched as girls flirted with him as he flirted back. Yet you were always there. You always listened to him when he needed someone to talk to about his scars, about the shadows that chased his light. He did the same for you, but perhaps it was out of pity. 

You pulled your hand out of his touch, foreign and familiar. Even after all this time, your skin still missed him. 

“You’re asking me to step back into the world I hate the most, but only after something horrible happens to you…?” your eyes stung as you finally met his gaze. His features were blurry, but you could see his fair eyebrows knitted together as he bit his inner cheek. 

“I won’t die,” he promised, voice soft and vulnerable, a voice that you had only heard once before. 

Your lip quivered. 

“There are things worse than death, Satoru Gojo. I rather die, than watch you suffer again,” you admitted. 

His eyes widened at your words, shock plain on his face but you didn’t care, you pressed on. 

“I will not go through that again… When I got that call saying you had been disabled by Toji Fushiguro I felt like I couldn’t breathe. It was as if all the air in the world had evaporated. I traveled through the in-between to get to you. Only to find you…” your words died in your throat as salty tears fell from your eyes. 

Shaking your head, you ran your hands down your thighs to ground yourself to reality. 

—

Satoru was wordless. Which was rare for him. 

He hadn’t stopped looking for y/n for the past 10 years. 

When she suddenly announced her separation he felt lost. He had gained a lot, but he lost everything important to him. She had been there for him since the beginning, and he for her. 

He recalled the first time he had ever seen her cry. There was a rumor that she had no feelings, that the strong female sorcerer was all ice with no heart. But when he saw her high up in a tree, knees tucked into her chest, rocking slightly, he realized they couldn’t be more wrong. 

It’s not that she didn’t feel, it’s that she felt too much, lost too much to the point where she didn’t want to let anyone close to her fragile heart. 

Satoru stared at y/n’s current crying frame, he watched as she tried to steel herself. Hands rubbing her thighs to try and soothe her pain, to ground herself. She chewed on her bottom lip as she concentrated between his eyebrows, unable to truly meet his eyes. 

Memories of their past flashed in his mind. Particularly the night he opened up to her about growing up in the Gojo clan, and the things he had done leading up to attending Jujutsu High. 

They were stuck on a mission together, the atmosphere was awkward and they only talked when discussing how to swiftly dispose of the lower-level cursed spirit. Satoru was particularly annoyed because he thought he was given such a remedial task, one that was without Suguru which at that point the two of them had become inseparable. 

“Y/n, are you always so serious?” Satoru drew out his voice while leaning over her shoulder, lazily craning his neck to meet her eyes over his glasses. 

She simply waved him off with an elegant hand while rolling her eyes. 

“The sooner we finish this mission the sooner I can be done with you.” She sighed, popping a piece of gum in her mouth as she pressed on. 

What is wrong with this girl? Usually, women kill to get a chance to be alone with me.

“Hey hey hey aren’t you being a little too mean? After all, you should feel grateful that I am here.” he boasted, stuffing his hands into his pockets, matching her brisk pace easily thanks to his long legs. 

Her features further dropped into annoyance as she eyed him sidelong with one eyebrow raised, as if in a warning. 

“I have no idea why we got put together. Anyways Gojo, we’re going to be entering the area where the cursed spirit was sighted. Even though it’s reported as a low-level curse we should still be cautious.” the woman scolded as she pushed a piece of her long hair behind her ear. For some reason, that act alone distracted him. 

“I’m not worried since nothing can touch me. Unless I want it to of course.” he shrugged and she rolled her eyes again. 

“Yes while you may feel invincible, I am not blessed with your lovely Infinity skill. So I will continue being careful.” another bemused sigh escaped her full lips. 

Why am I so distracted right now? Is it because I know she’s putting up a front? 

He was lost in thought for a while till her voice called out into the silence. 

“This should be it. You remember the plan, right?” her eyes meet his over her shoulder, a coy smile tugging on her lips. 

“Of course.” he returned her smile. 

—

“Well, that was easy.” Satoru whistled looking at the pathetic excuse for a curse. Its corpse lay motionless on the floor of the abandoned skyscraper. 

“Too easy…” y/n said, voice wary. 

She crouched down in front of the corpse, face emotionless, eyes dissecting every aspect of the curse trying to find its secrets. 

Scary. She’s too smart.

Her plan went effortlessly. She had him drop his technique entirely so they couldn’t be sensed. She went in alone since the curse was reported to only attack young women. He was to tail her, concealing his existence until the curse showed itself. Once it did, all he had to do was attack it with his cursed energy. 

“Such a weak curse.” Satoru clicked his tongue, hands returning to his pockets. 

Why did we even get put on this mission? Y/n maybe I could see, but me? Why couldn’t I go on the mission with Suguru? I can’t–

“GOJO MOVE!” 

At that exact moment, he felt a huge amount of cursed energy that he didn’t sense earlier, but he was too late. 

Y/n had jumped in front of his body, shielding him from the attack. 

Y/n looked at Satoru with wide eyes as the cursed spirit stabbed through her abdomen. Blood spilled from the wound and her mouth as the spirit pulled back. 

In a second he killed it, but it didn’t matter.

Y/n fell to the ground, hand tightly pressed to her wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. 

Panic bubbled in his chest as he quickly ran to her side, taking off his jacket and shirt, beginning to rip the fabric into ribbons. 

“What’re you?” she asked weakly, color already draining from her face. 

“Don’t talk, move your hand.” she hesitated, but she moved her trembling hand from the wound. 

Shit, I need to stop the bleeding. I could use the Reversed Curse– no, too risky. I haven’t practiced enough. 

He moved her jacket and shirt up, exposing her bright red stomach. Taking a deep breath in, he begins stuffing her wound. 

Y/n screams out in pain as Satoru stuffs the hole, packing it as tightly as he can and he does the same to her back. Despite the pain she was in, she forced her body to be still for him. 

“Almost done,” he promised to her, she only nodded through gritted teeth. Her skin was clammy and cool to the touch. 

She’s going into shock.

Hastily he secures the packed wound with the remainder of his t-shirt and then wraps her in his jacket. He watched her face for a minute, her breathing is ragged and her eyes are tightly shut as if she was trying to block out the world. 

“I’m going to move us now, can you hold onto me?” she nodded weakly as she reached up wrapping her arms around his neck. 

Her blood smeared all over Satoru’s bare chest and stomach as he stood. He pulled her higher to have her head rest in the crook of his neck to try and return some warmth to her skin. 

I can’t take her to a hospital right now… There will be too much of a commotion if I do that. Better if I take her to a hotel for the evening and call someone in secretly to treat her. 

With one last look down at her he prayed for the first time in years that she survived the night. 

—

“I’m happy you have half a brain Gojo.” Shoko chided as she finished healing Y/n’s wound. 

They both had been dressed in fresh clothes thanks to Shoko. 

“If you didn’t act when you did, she would have died because you’re trash,” she added, pulling out a cigarette and making her way to the balcony. He followed behind wordlessly, lost too much in his thoughts to truly take in her words. 

Shoko was always with Suguru and Satoru, and she is skilled with her Reversed Curse Technique. Thankfully she answered when he called, if she didn’t he might’ve had to do it himself…

“Thank you for coming,” he said in reply, and she eyed him while she lit her cigarette, taking a long drag of smoke. 

“Where’s Suguru?” she asked instead of responding to his thanks. 

“Another mission. They stuck the two of us together. It was supposed to be just one curse. But…” his words died. 

It’s my fault. I got distracted. I let her get hurt.

Shoko sighed, reading his mood, and took another pull of her cigarette.

“She’s alive, that’s all that matters.” she flicked the ash over the edge of the balcony.

“I won’t tell the higher-ups, I’ll keep this a secret. But learn from this and be more careful in the future. Not everyone can protect themselves as you can.” she took another long pull, blew out the smoke, and put out the bud. 

“I am leaving, call me if anything changes.”

He watched as Shoko left and then positioned himself on the chair in front of the bed that housed y/n. 

The pain was gone from her features but she was still far too pale. The blood that colored her cheeks was gone. The tips of her fingers felt impossibly cold. He had to keep watching the rise and fall of her chest to remind himself she was still alive. 

Hours passed like that, guilt wracking his mind as he watched her sleep, then she woke up. 

“Gojo?” she called weakly, hand immediately going to her once wounded abdomen.

Her face twisted in confusion as she continuously touched the skin there, feeling for the hole. 

“Shoko healed you.” 

His voice was soft and raw, he had no masks to put on today. He couldn’t, not after what she did for him. 

She nodded once, wincing as she positioned herself on her side so she was facing him. 

“Why do you look like that?” she asked while running a hand through her messy hair. 

“Like what?” he knit his eyebrows together. 

Why is she already picking a fight?

“Like a wounded puppy.” with a huff, she flicked his forehead. Of course, he had let her, but it still left him surprised. 

“See, that’s better. That face suits you way more.” she smiled softly with cracked lips.

“What face?” some life returned to his voice. 

“The face of a surprised idiot.” nodding as if proud of herself, she burrowed further into the blanket. 

“Why’d you do it…?” 

“Hm?” 

“Why’d you jump in front of me, y/n? You know about my skills and yet you…” he shook his head, unable to finish the sentence. 

She seemed to ponder the question for a moment, eyes on the ceiling.

Clearing her throat she spoke. 

“You may not have noticed it, but you let your technique drop. I felt the difference in the energy. As soon as I noticed the spirit's attack there was no way I could counter-attack in time to save you. So if you look at the scales, and ask what life holds more value, it’s yours. So I choose you.” she said it so matter-of-factly, the blatant disregard for her own life, saying it held less value than his own. 

“What?”

He couldn’t wrap his head around it. From a young age, people have tried to kill him. He was positive even the old higher-ups wanted him dead but didn’t want to face the consequences of killing the head of the Gojo Clan. Yet here this girl, who he barely knows, is saying that his life is more important to her than her own. 

She smiled as if reading his thoughts. 

“Although I hate to admit it, you have the power to change this world. I do not. If I could save the world's savior, then maybe my tarnished soul could be spared.” her voice was sweet like honey, but her words struck him deeply. 

 “Tarnished soul?” he repeated her words like an echo. 

She smiled again, though this time sadness traced her features, settling into her eyes. 

“You saved my life, so I suppose I could share some of my demons.” she ran her hands along the blanket. 

“I discovered my curse technique when I was young. Being able to sense cursed energy and summon Shikigami came very easily to me…”

 She considered something for a moment, then continued. 

 “You see, my home life wasn’t what you would call a ‘Happy Family’. So I was glad to have a distraction.” she paused, again running her hands along the blanket as if she was soothing herself. 

“One day I came home early from school with my report card. I had gotten straight A’s so I wanted to show my parents. I entered our small home only to find my father stabbing my mother… Out of fear and rage, I attacked and killed him. It was also then that I discovered I possessed the Reversed Curse Technique. I tried for hours to heal my dead mother to no avail. Her wounds closed, but her heart didn’t beat. The police found the scene two days later, with me hugging my mother's body…” By the time she finished, her words were barely a whisper. 

Silence fell in the room, only the sound of their breaths filled the space. For some time, neither of them spoke. 

“I have never told anyone that.” she professed, voice shaky and unsure. 

Not knowing what to say, he reached for her hand. She accepted his touch, and he enclosed her fingers with his, her hand feeling impossibly small.

“Your soul isn’t tarnished.” 

She met his eyes, hand trembling in his. Something about her expression was so raw, so vulnerable that he felt that he needed to wrap his arms around her and protect her from the world that had taken so much.

“I killed my blood,” she shakily whispered, tears pricking her eyes. He soothed her by rubbing soft circles into her palm. 

“So have I…” 

—

“I can’t promise you anything, y/n,” he answered honestly, recalling the pain she shared with him. Knowing full well how much of him she held in her heart, and how much of her he held in his…

She ran her hands down her face, nails lightly digging into her skin. 

He read the reports of her movements when Mei had found her. She did networking remotely for a hospital but still went out of her way to hunt down cursed spirits. Going after nests or high-grade curses, to help alleviate the risks for students training at Jujutsu High.

When he got the reports months ago, he almost dropped everything to see her then. But everything got so busy with Yuta. 

Now that he’s here, all the things he wanted to say died in his throat. The sight of her shaking and crying, the tears he only ever got to see, made his knees weak and his resolve crumble. 

Women were always interested in him, some he entertained, but none he cared for. Not in the way he cared for Y/n… No one compared. 

“You’re those kids' best hope if I get taken out of the fight,” he said honestly.

He thought of his new dream, and re-strengthened his mind, trying not to let his resurfaced feelings sway him. 

Her eyes met his, and his breath caught in his throat. 

Time had been kind, and her beauty only grew. Eyes mature and loving, face kind and warm. So different from how she looked as a sorcerer. 

She took him in for a moment, for the first time since she arrived she truly looked at him, she saw him. 

He felt naked under her gaze, he had never been self-conscious, but with her, he felt nervous. Fearful he wasn’t enough, that he wouldn’t ever be enough. 

“You’re playing dirty, Satoru Gojo, by bringing the next generation into this.” he watched as she sighed, shoulders curving inwards as she leaned back against her chair. Her blood-stained clothes clung to her skin. 

“Then you’re agreeing?” she nodded, stress already lining her face. 

Before he could talk, she spoke. 

“Now if this concludes your business, leave.” the edge from earlier returned to her voice. It threw him for a loop. 

“You don’t want to talk?” his voice, though sounding normal to anyone else, sounded pathetic to his ears.

She eyed him again, eyelashes wet from her tears.

Beautiful.

“Satoru… What do you want from me?”

—

Your heart was in your throat. 

You agreed to sign yourself back up for pain because Satoru was right. If he was taken out of the fight, those kids will need someone to help them, your personal feelings aside. 

But how could it not be personal? When the man you loved, who you still love, sat across from you with an open unguarded expression. Practically begging you to continue talking to him.

You spent years trying to forget him. The memories you both shared, the internal wounds you healed together. You tried finding your peace in others, but it was futile. The sight of his smiling face still shined brightly behind your eyes. The stories of his achievements chased your ears. 

You sighed, running your hands through your hair whilst awaiting his answer. 

“Do you still feel the same about me, y/n?” 

Bastard. Answering my question with a question.

“Does it matter? You never saw me in that light, to begin with,” you answered him bitterly, some of your anger returning to the surface. 

Genuine shock filled his beautiful eyes. 

“I. Why do you think that?” he cocked his head to the side as if studying you. 

“It was obvious, Satoru. In many people's eyes, you are a God. Women practically threw themselves at you, and you greedily took in all their advances. I watched it happen time and time again. If you harbored feelings for me, you wouldn’t have acted that way.”

The truth hung between you. You ran your hands along your thighs to calm yourself, not wanting to cry for a second time this evening. 

You made to stand, but Satoru caught your wrist, halting you in place.

“I took you for granted,” he admitted eyes on the floor. 

The warmth of his hand spread to your flesh. Your skin sang at the feeling, your pores drank him in, missing him as much as your heart did. 

You stayed silent. The air between you two was impossibly heavy as your heart pounding against your chest, like a bird trying to escape its cage. 

“I won’t apologize with my words…” he stood, now towering over you, even with the coffee table separating your bodies. 

Those beautiful, intense eyes pinned you in place. You now truly looked at him for the second time this evening.

He grew into his features more, now even more beautiful than he was when you were a teen. He was unreal, like that of a painting. All silver as if he was pure moonlight with eyes like the clearest sapphires. You resisted the urge to take his face in your hands, to greedily bask in his warmth – in his scent. 

Satoru walked around the table as he gently let go of your wrist. Instead, he place both his hands on your cheeks, cupping your face as his long fingers tangled themselves in your hair. Despite yourself, you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes. 

I’m still so weak to you.

“Will you let me make it up to you?” his soft voice whispered, thumbs rubbing your cheeks. 

You trembled at his touch. He was close enough that you could smell him, the smell of fresh summer rain and jasmine. Beautiful and alluring – it was home. He was home…

Satoru crouched down now, his face just mere inches from your own. Your breaths mixed as he stared at you so sincerely it made your chest hurt. 

You gently grabbed his wrists. 

“I can’t lose you…” the words came out of your throat in a croak. The thought of him being hurt or worse frightened you. It made your blood run cold and your stomach churn. 

“I am yours, y/n.” 

Not a promise that nothing will happen to him, but a promise of his heart, and that it belongs to you.

You nearly wept, the words you thought you would never hear now filled your ears. You almost thought this was some twisted dream, and that at any moment reality would slam into you the way it always has. 

“And I am yours, I have been since that day you saw me crying in that tree.” a confession of your heart fell from your lips. One that you held so close and suppressed like a child's dream thinking it will never come true.

He pressed his lips to yours. A soft sweet pressure that made your stomach flutter. You fit so perfectly together that it was dizzying. His lips moved smoothly and passionately against your own, tongue licking your bottom lip asking for permission which you granted. 

The taste of him caressed your tongue, the smell of him filled your senses, the press of his warm body against your own it all made your toes curl. Your tongues danced as your fingers found their way to his silken hair, tugging slightly, pulling him deeper into the kiss. 

You had been kissed before, but nothing compared to this. The way his tongue teased yours, the loving press of his soft lips, and the reassuring pressure of his hands against your face; made your knees weak. There was a painful desperation between you two. The unspoken fear that you’ll never see each other again. 

His hands slid from your face to your waist, pulling you closer to his body. You gasped at the contact, heat spreading from your face to your chest at the feeling of his firm muscles against your torso. 

You were so lost in the feeling of him you forgot you had to breathe, so he pulled away first– a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips as he rested his forehead against yours. 

You both breathed heavily, eyes hooded and dark with desire. 

He caressed your face as if he was trying to remember every curve, dip, and pore that resided there. 

“Y/n,” he whispered breathlessly, desperation coating his voice. 

“Satoru,” you answered, just as winded as him.

“Don’t run away again…” 

Your eyes widened. 

He pulled his face back, allowing himself a full view of your features as he lovingly massaged your scalp. 

“I understand why you left. But you didn’t even say goodbye.” 

Blue eyes searched yours as if trying to find answers to the questions he’s had for years. Your mind went blank as your blood still sang with praise from the press of his lips, already missing his warmth. 

You overlapped his large hands with your small ones, gently rubbing the sides of his palms. 

“I won’t run,” you promised. 

He didn’t move, his eyes still searched yours indefinitely. Almost as if he was holding his breath, waiting for you to change your mind. 

“I won’t run, I'll fight for you, and for our future.” those words removed the invisible chain that shackled your heart. For so long, you held everyone at arm's length, but where did it get you? You were tired of pushing away your feelings. 

A smile slowly spread across Satorus's face. It was a dazzlingly unpracticed smile, a real smile. One that was only for you. 

“Our future?” he repeated while humming as if thinking your words over. 

You bit your bottom lip in embarrassment as the blush on your cheeks deepened. You got carried away by the moment and perhaps spoke too honestly. 

“I think I like the sound of that,” he murmured then began planting feather-soft kisses on your cheek. 

 You bit back your giggle as he continued trailing kisses to your nose, forehead, jawline, then the corner of your mouth. 

“Satoru” you called softly, running your hands down the length of his strong arms, hands settling on his shoulders to steady yourself. 

“Hm?” he purred innocently into your skin, lips ghosting over the expanse of your neck. The heat from earlier returned to your bones at his touch. 

“I am exhausted,” you admitted. 

You had spent all day tracking the reported nest. You then used up a fair amount of your cursed energy for the attack. On top of that you just went through a whirlwind of emotions you still have yet to process. 

He pulls his face from your neck, eyes now filled with concern as he traces your body for any sign of injury. 

You half sigh half laugh as you take his face in your hands, shaking his head slightly. 

“I.Am.Fine.” you drag out each word from your lips, tilting his head at each word as if it would make it reach his brain. 

You watch as his eyes gloss over as if missing your point entirely. 

You sigh, gently stepping out of the warmth of his embrace and gesture to your still blood-soaked body. 

“I need a shower, hot tea, and decompression time. It’s been a long day with surprises.” you smooth your hands over your face as the weight of the day settles over you, the excitement of early slowly dissipating. 

A smirk pulled on the corner of Satoru’s full lips as a mischievous look filled his eyes. 

“It’s quite late, isn’t it?” he mused, playfulness in his tone as he rubbed his chin. 

“Yes, it is,” you confirmed slowly, not quite catching what he was planning. 

“Well, it would be troublesome for me to leave at this hour, due to the trains stopping for the night. I mean, you know how far Jujutsu High is.”

Your eye twitched. He wasn’t wrong, of course, but what he was implying–

“So I guess I have to stay the night!” he said cheerily, extending his arms over his head like a child spinning in a circle. 

I only have one bed… The loveseat is too small for his stupidly long figure. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks as you briskly brush past him. 

“I am sure you make enough money, go find a hotel,” you say hurriedly, making your way over to your bathroom.

You hear his light footsteps right behind you, entering your bathroom with you. 

“Awww, why are you being like that? After we just kissed too?” though he pursed his lips to a pout, his eyes were full of humor. 

He’s enjoying this too much.

“Are you saying because we kissed you have earned yourself the right to be in my bed?” you crossed your arms over your chest, making sure to push your full breasts up while jutting out a hip. You wore a breezy white button-up shirt and black pants. A plain outfit sure, but one that complimented your silhouette. 

If he was going to tease you, you were going to return the favor.

You watched as he swallowed his saliva, eyes taking in your figure as they danced with desire. He stood several inches taller than you, and it didn’t help that you were in the confined space of your restroom. With your back pressed against the wall, he peered down at you, eyes hungrily taking in the sight of you. 

He placed an arm above your head, pinning you in place. 

“If I said I won’t do anything unprovoked would you believe me?” he asked his voice deep and low which made your stomach flutter. A smirk was playing on his lips, one that would make most women swoon. 

You licked your lips, throat suddenly feeling dry.

“You always do what you want. You get what you want when you want it. So no, I do not believe you.” you continued to meet his heated stare, which seemed to please him. His fingers tilted your chin up further, making you crane your neck up to him. 

“Are you suggesting I want you, y/n?” he purred, already knowing your answer. 

You rubbed your legs together, trying to relieve some of that growing pressure between the apex of your thighs. A movement that didn’t go unnoticed by Satoru. 

“I’m sorry, am I supposed to assume otherwise when you follow me into a bathroom and pin me against a wall? Or do you do this with all your friends?” there was one thing you never lacked, and that was your quick temper. Thanks to that, sarcasm tended to lick your words at all times. 

His hand gripped your face, fingers lightly squeezing your cheeks. 

“But are we truly just friends, y/n?” he brought his face closer to yours, hot breath tickling your skin. 

“I recall,” he hummed as he took his free hand and trailed it down your clothed sternum. “You called yourself mine earlier.”

Your mind was cloudy, dizzy from the proximity of his face, the warmth of his hand gripping your cheeks, the smell of his skin, the soft caress of his voice; all of him was a drug, one that you could get high off of forever. 

“I did,” you confirmed swallowing your dry saliva, trying to keep your voice steady. 

Anticipation coursed through your veins as his finger continued to travel down your abdomen, hooking under the hem of your ruined shirt.

“Would you like me to show you how well I take care of things that are mine?” Satoru hummed, hot finger swirling around your belly button. 

His long eyelashes lowered, making his intense gaze turn sultry and possessive. You forget to breathe for a moment, the heat between your legs spreading like a fire to your stomach, responding to his soft touch. 

You bit your lip, your weak attempt at trying to resist him; crumbling with each mixed breath. 

“What do you say, y/n? Will you let me worship you?” he dragged his finger up your stomach, playfully pushing under the band of your bra, just below your breast. Your breath hitched as he pressed his lips to your ear, tongue licking your soft lobe. 

“Will you let me claim what's mine?” teeth grazed the soft shell of your ear and you gasped, head tilting back as the feeling went straight to your sex. 

“Y-Yes,” you whispered, giving up your control, dropping your last barrier. 

You felt him smile against your skin as he wrapped his hand around your waist.

“Good girl,” 

You had to bite back the moan that threatened to escape your throat as he roughly kissed you, the press of his lips hungry and desperate. Strong hands wrapped themselves around your soft thighs, hiking you up the wall so he could press his hips into yours, hard cock pressing against your need. 

Locking your legs around his waist you tangled your hands into his hair, fighting his tongue for dominance, clinging to the taste of him. He let a satisfied moan escape into your mouth as you dragged your teeth along his tongue, pulling it further into your mouth, sucking on the muscle.  

He grabbed your ass shaking it roughly, the action making your clothed clit rubbed against his throbbing cock. You moaned greedily into his mouth as he possessively bit your bottom lip, tongue swirling along the swollen flesh.

Pressing his body further into yours, he removed his hands from your rear and began undoing your blouse, lips never leaving your own. He teasingly brushed his fingers over your clothed peaked nipples as he tantalizingly exposed you to him. Expert fingers crawled up your spine to your bra, undoing its clasp.

Supporting your weight with one arm, he took one step backward so he could remove the clothes that kept your skin from him. 

He pulled back from the lull of your lips so he could admire you. Your breasts were heavy against your chest as your nipples ached, crying to be touched as the rest of your body did.  

Satoru let out a satisfied sigh, eyes taking in your breasts as well as the tattoos that decorated your ribs and sternum. 

“My fucking God you are perfect,” he praised, freely tracing his hand over the ink of your tattoos, lighting your skin ablaze. 

“Mm, Satoru,” you whined lightly, tightening your legs around his waist to try and give yourself some relief. 

He laughed darkly, his pupils swallowed his eyes entirely as pure desire resided in them. 

“Eager for my dick, are you?” he hummed, two fingers pushing past your lips. You obediently sucked them, hollowing out your cheeks as you coated his flesh with your saliva as if this was your answer to his question. 

You reveled in his pleased expression, he played with your tongue a bit while marveling at you. Ever-so-slowly, he removed his fingers from your mouth. He then scissored your thick, stringy saliva between his fingers, placed them in his mouth, and hummed in satisfaction. 

Your insides turned molten at the sight. His eyes never left yours, even when he dragged his fingers out of his mouth. It was as if he wanted to drink you in, commit your every reaction to memory. He had barely touched you, but you could feel your wetness soak through your jeans. Your walls throbbed, practically begging to be fucked by him. 

He read your expression easily, smirked, and then pressed his lips to yours instantly claiming dominance over your swollen lips. You were too lost in him to even noticed he had moved to your room, gently placing you down on your bed. 

Lips trailing white-hot fire down your neck, he hooked his sinful fingers under the waistband of your jeans. He made quick work of taking the fabric off your skin and he kissed, sucked, and nipped at your neck. You moaned, all earlier pride washing away while being steadily replaced with lust.

You spread your legs wide for him, your sex, still clothed, had completely soaked your panties. Cool air kissed your heated flesh and you hissed, earning yourself a chuckle from Satoru. He rubbed gentle circles into the plush of your thighs, making you squirm with impatience. 

He stepped back and you trailed him, sliding your fingers under his shirt, tugging it off his deliciously toned body.

“It’s maddening that you still have clothes on,” you admitted, bringing your knees under you, and planting kisses on his abdomen. He cursed at the touch, fingers entangling themselves in your hair as his gaze burned through you. 

“Mm, you look so pretty on your knees for me, y/n.” he encouraged you as he lightly dug his fingers into your scalp. 

You began taking off his pants as you trailed your tongue up his torso, his body shuddering against you as began sucking right above his hipbone. 

You ensured to leave his boxers on, as he left your panties on you. It was driving you insane having a barrier between you two, but it was also a fun game you knew he was playing; who will cave first?

Ensuring to keep eye contact, you ghost your hand over his clothed length as you dip your tongue under the waistband of his boxers, feeling the stubble of his regrowing pubic hairs against your tongue. His eyelashes flutter as the hand in your hair trembles, you could tell he was holding back. Seeing him this way made your core throb. 

“Are you trying to tease me?” he breathed heavily, chest rising and falling above you. It served as your encouragement. Purely drunk off the sight of him being so sensitive to your touch. 

For a response, hummed innocently as you didn’t stop your teasing. With your other hand, you slid it up his left leg ensuring it entered his boxers, skillfully avoiding his balls and shaft while you softly swirled your fingers dangerously near where he wanted your touch. 

His cock twitched, lightly hitting your hand and you smirked, biting into his hip, eliciting a moan from his throat. You moaned sweetly into his flesh, which drove him mad. 

His hands found your shoulders and pinned you down to the bed as his lips found your clavicle, tongue tracing the length of the bone. 

“Who knew,” he whispered breathlessly into your flesh, hands spreading your legs wide, as he began planting slopping kisses down your chest. 

“That the girl who would cry in trees would be so evil?” Satoru licked his way from your sternum to your navel, tongue swirling around the soft skin making you squirm. 

You hummed, fingers refinding his hair which prompted him to enclose your wrists with one hand, pinning them above your head. His mouth wrapped around your nipple, tongue expertly teasing the rosy bud making your toes curl. You mewled, back arching into his mouth as pleasure crawled down your spine. 

“Who knew that the strongest man in this world would be so weak to my touch?” you challenged back, voice breathy and low. You earned yourself a nip to your nipple, making you yelp as your walls clenched at the feeling. 

Satoru seemed to like your comment about him being strong because he happily worked your full breasts with his mouth, giving you a sensation of pleasure you never experienced before. Your soft moans filled the room, which only encouraged him more. Every lick, suck, and bite brought you closer to that edge. 

He noticed too, humming into your skin and then removing his mouth, making you let out a needy whine in protest. 

“Were you close, y/n?” he cooed, lips traveling south.

“Asking questions you already know the answers to?” you answered slyly, hands struggling against his iron grip. You wanted to replace the warmth your breasts had lost; wanting to chase the taste of pleasure he gave you.

“I always do, sweetheart.”

He smiled up at you, face between your legs, his breath tickling your needy sex. He inhaled deeply, making you blush even harder but you didn’t break eye contact, refusing to lose to him.

“Look at you, y/n. You're such a mess for me,” he clicked his tongue and dragged his finger up your wet, clothed pussy. Fire pooled in your gut at the lingering sensation of his finger. Your body trembled. You bit your lip, concealing the throaty moan that threatened you.  

Satoru got on his knees and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, your dripping core mere inches from his face. Without hesitation, he licked his way up your clothed cunt in a zig-zag-like motion, stopping just before reaching your swollen clit. You moaned loudly at the sudden pressure as your stomach tightened at the pleasure. 

“Your panties are so soaked, and you wore white, too. Almost like you knew,” His voice vibrated against you, making you shiver. 

He planted another lick on you, again stopping right before he reached your bundle of nerves, avoiding where you wanted him most. 

“You taste so good baby.” he praised while continuing to slowly lick your pussy, your legs began to shake as your body screamed for more. He dug his strong hands into your hips, pinning you to the bed to keep you still for him. 

It felt so good, but also incomplete. With each swipe of his tongue, he moaned appreciatively, drinking in your scent, losing himself in the taste of your need, but never fully giving you what you want. 

“S-Satoru, mm, please.” you pleaded helplessly, submitting to him fully. 

“Be a good girl for me and tell me what I want to hear, y/n.” 

Another long lick without relief, you whimpered. 

“Beg for me,” he whispered darkly, tongue licking above your clit just for emphasis. 

“I-I am yours,” you panted, the ability to form coherent sentences increasingly becoming hard for you with each press of his tongue. 

“And?” he coaxed, fingers now joining his dance as he rubbed two of them against you. 

You recalled his words from earlier this evening. 

“I want you to worship me,” you moaned loudly at the slight brush of his finger against your clit. 

“What else, y/n? Tell me what you want.” his teeth are now wrapped around the lace of your panties, ready to pull them down at your words. 

You swallowed your pride, allowing yourself to be consumed whole by his eyes. 

“I want you to fuck me. With your mouth, with your fingers, with your cock. I want you to fuck me however you want, Satoru. I am yours, and you are mine.” as the words left your lips, he peeled your panties off your body. 

Cool air kissed your throbbing pussy making you quiver. 

“I am going to make you forget every man that came before me.” 

The pure promise of his words nearly drove you over the edge, but nothing could compare to what came next.

His tongue licked up your dripping cunt, making your juices drip down to your ass. He growled anomalistically into you as you coated his tongue. You tangled your fingers in his hair, the sweet press of his tongue against your clit making you buck your hips. 

“You’re so perfect,” he praised into your sex, sending sweet vibrations to the deepest parts of you.

His mouth wrapped around your clit, tongue swirling and sucking your bundle of nerves, sending delicious waves of pleasure through your firey veins. Breathing was impossible, you became a moaning mess for him. His name left your lips like a prayer, and he drank it up. Savoring every bit of your helpless moans, knowing they were all for him. 

Without warning, he slid two warm fingers into your slick walls, momentarily stretching you, then removing them entirely.

What?

You knitted your eyebrows because the only noise you could make was strangled pleasure-filled moans. 

But soon, those two fingers enter your ass, as his thumb entered your cunt making you moan uncontrollably. 

You were overstimulated, so much pleasure filled you. His free hand came to play with your breasts, pinching a rolling your nipples between his rough nimble fingers. The edge crept back up, the knot in your stomach tightening. 

“S-Satoru I’m–” you cried, your release rapidly approaching. 

Tears pricked your eyes. No man had ever made you feel this way, let alone make you cum. You were almost afraid of the release. 

“Not until I tell you to baby,” he warned, his tongue flicking your clit relentlessly as his fingers pumped both your holes, driving you closer and closer to the deep end. 

You clenched your walls hard, trying so desperately to hold back your orgasm, which only made Satoru pump and suck you faster. 

“I-I can’t–”

“Cum for me baby,” 

His words were your undoing. On his command, you came hard around his fingers, both of your holes shuddering as pleasurable waves crashed over your body. Stars blotted your vision. Your feet became unbearably hot as your hands held his hair for dear life as if it would save you from your overwhelming orgasm. 

“Good girl, cum for Daddy.” Satoru praised you, tongue tracing slow circles on you as his hand helped you ride the wave. 

You felt like you were floating. Your body was impossibly light as you came down from your high. You tried to remember how to breathe.

Inhale… Exhale… Inhale… Exhale.

Wet lips found yours, the taste of you lingering on his tongue as his body hovered over you. You moaned into his mouth, your body sensitive and mind hazy as the after-effects. 

Through his searing kiss, you began to reground yourself in reality. You hook your legs behind Satoru’s, then flip your bodies, pleased to find at some point he removed his boxers as your slickness coated him.

“Your turn,” you take his bottom lip between your teeth, dragging them slowly along the plump flesh. He gives you an appreciative smack to your ass, the feeling going straight to your groin. 

You trail your lips down his neck, licking and sucking at the supple skin, relishing in the gasp that escapes Satoru’s lips when you lick his ear. Grinding your slick pussy against him, he grunts, hands holding your hips tight enough to leave bruises. 

You smile as you feel him grit his teeth, soft pants leaving his lips. 

“Feel good Daddy?” you ask innocently, pulling your face back to look at his beautiful face. 

His cheeks were flushed with lips wet and parted, eyebrows knitted together, and eyes completely transfixed on your wet pussy grinding against him. 

“Mm, you feel good baby,” he says to you softly and watches as you lean back further, placing your hands on his sculpted chest, moving your hips with a deeper pressure.

“Tell me what you want,” you sigh, enjoying the warm feeling of his thick cock against you. His eyes find your face, taking in your satisfied features, smirking at the sight of you getting yourself off by just grinding on him. 

He takes your face in his hand and traces your lips with his finger. 

“I want you to wrap that pretty little mouth of yours around my cock.” 

The heat in his gaze alone nearly drives you over the edge, so you oblige him. Making a show of you getting on all fours for his lying down frame, wiggling your ass in the air for him, earning yourself another spank. 

You take his member in your hand, pumping him a few times, marveling at his length and girth. Satoru just watched you, sucking in air between his teeth at your touch.

Bigger than anyone I’ve ever had…

Meeting his eyes, you brought your lips to his tip. Sucking and swirling your tongue, humming when the salty yet sweet taste of his precum hits your lips. His expression darkened as you moved your mouth down his shaft, hollowing out your cheeks, allowing him to travel down your esophagus until your nose touched his stomach.

“S-Shit, y/n.” his hands fisted your hair as you happily shook your mouth around him, causing him to curse again. 

Slowly, you make your way back up, licking his underside as your hand cup and gently massage his balls. He’s beautiful, even with the sweat dripping down his brow and his face contours from pleasure. 

You begin to pick up your pace. Ensuring to suck harder towards the tip and make slurping and choking noises to stroke his ego. Your saliva thickened as your throat fucked him and as soon as you could comfortably take him he regained control. 

Satoru began thrusting his cock in your mouth at a relentless pace, you could see the satisfaction in his eyes as your tears formed and you struggled to breathe. 

“You look so beautiful with my cock in your mouth. What a good little slut you are.” 

Your walls clenched at his word as you licked and sucked him as best you could with his pace, getting off on the fact that you were pleasing him. You moaned against him, which in turn made his cock twitch. 

“Fuck, just like that baby.” he hissed while throwing his head back into the sheets, the base of his cock twitching more and more in your mouth. 

Suddenly, he aggressively pulled your head back, completely taking your mouth off of him, saliva dripping from your wet lips. 

He laughs, running his thumbs along your cheeks. He pulls himself to a sitting position as you hungrily stare at his glistening angry red cock that stands proudly against his stomach. 

“You almost made me cum,” he mused breathlessly, peppering kisses along your cheek. 

“Well, that was my intent,” you smile and he groans, flipping your bodies so that you’re under him again. 

He aligns himself with your dripping entrance and smiles at you. He smacks his cock against your clit, sending shocks down your spine. 

“Tell me to stop if it hurts, okay?” you bit your lips and nodded, earning you another world-shatteringly beautiful smile. 

“So perfect,” he murmurs against your lips as he slowly pushes into you, swallowing your gasp.

You tremble as your walls adjust to his thickness, the feeling of him stretching you felt like heaven. Inch by inch he pushes into you, allowing you to adjust to him every step of the way. His tongue plays with yours as he swallows your satisfied moan at the feeling of fullness he gives you. 

“Fuck Satoru,” you breathe between the two of you. He nips at your bottom lip as he grabs your legs, allowing himself to bottom out in your pussy. 

“You’re so fucking tight, y/n,” He presses his forehead against yours as a shuddering breath passes his lips. You nod your head while digging your fingers into his shoulders, a signal to him to start moving. 

He pulls out of you, almost entirely, then rolls his hips back into yours. The feeling makes your stomach tighten, he reached so deep in you as your velvet walls hungrily sucked him back in causing you both to let out a moan. 

He picked up his pace, now biting his lower lip in concentration. You couldn’t help yourself as you reached up and caressed his face, marveling at this beautiful man. 

“Mine,” you whispered, almost to yourself. 

“Yours,” he answered, slamming his hips into you, angling himself to hit that spongey spot that connects right to your clit.

You couldn’t hide the obnoxious moan that left your throat as he hit that spot over and over again, making your eyes roll back. 

“Found it,” 

You both lost yourselves in the feeling of each other. Him in the warm wet bliss of your walls tightly hugging him, you in the friction and stretch of him. Your mouths were a hot mess of skin, teeth, and saliva. Your hands hungrily gripped one another. His hands find your ass, bringing your hips up to reach a new depth in you, which you returned by meeting his relentless thrusts. 

There was a sort of desperation in your movements together, as if you both feared this would be the last time you would be able to express yourselves. 

Your breaths became ragged as you felt the approach of your second release. You hopelessly raked your nails down Satoru’s spine. His thrusts became more erratic as you felt his cock twitch inside of you, which caused you to clench around him. He wrapped his hand around your throat, hard enough to leave a mark, light enough to allow you to breathe. 

“Fuck baby, I’m close.” he breathed into your ear, hot and heavy. The words brought you closer to the edge. 

“I want you to cum for me Daddy.” You said breathlessly, the words falling off your lips in a slur. He grunted, fingers digging into your plump ass. 

He sucked the juncture between your neck and shoulder. He reached between your bodies and rubbed expert circles into your clit, sending you over the edge for the second time that evening. 

Your release crashed over you hard as your walls clenched around Satoru, taking him over the cliff with you. His seed spilled in you, warm and deep which made you feel so full and satisfied. You moaned helplessly into his shoulder as he whispered your name in your ear as if it was the most precious thing in the world. 

—

Y/n’s body shuddered against him as they came down from their highs together. Satoru rubbed soothing circles against her sweaty back while peppering her hot cheeks with light kisses. 

He has had a lot of sex, but nothing ever felt like that to him, ever. His cock was already hard again, deep inside y/n's warm pussy, plugging her full of his seed. 

He had no intention of having children, but he needed to claim her, in every way he possibly could. He wasn’t satiated, not even close. 

“Y/n,” he pressed a kiss to her soft, swollen lips. Basking in the taste of their combined lust. 

“Hm?” she murmured dreamily, long eyelashes fluttering against her deeply flushed cheeks. 

“Turn around for me,” he ordered. She whimpered but obediently did as he said. 

Sluggishly, she unlatched their bodies and crawled forward on the bed, and got on all fours, shaking her ass in front of his face. He sighed at the sight, watching as their mixed juices streamed down her plump thighs. 

Getting on his knees himself, he positioned himself at her entrance, relishing in the way her body shuddered at the contact. Grabbing her long hair and wrapping it around his hand, he slammed his cock into her quivering pussy. 

She moaned loudly into the bed as he tilted his head back, getting drunk from the feeling of her tight velvet walls sucking him back in, taking all of him. Satoru didn’t hold back as he greedily fucked her, watching as her ass bruised with his hand prints bounced on his cock. 

She cried his name into the bed, hands gripping the sheets as her chest fell to the mattress forcing her back to arch at a harsher angle. He watched as drool pooled from her mouth with her face squished, moving back and forth with each hard thrust of his hips. 

“You’re doing so good baby girl,” he moaned meaning every word. 

She smiled, lifting her head slightly to meet his eyes, nearly driving him over the edge. He never came quickly before, which is why he was so shocked when he nearly busted from her mouth alone. She had bewitched him, in ways that no woman could even compare. From the feeling of her lips, moans that were soft and musical to his ears, down to the taste that dripped for him. No one came close. 

“Mm, you feel so fucking good.” her praise was like honey, making his cock twitch and he set an ungodly pace, hands digging into her hips so he could pull her into his deep thrusts. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” she cursed, her legs shaking beneath him as her walls clenched around him. 

He smiled wolfishly, roughly grabbing her face and kissing her. She moaned into his kiss, unable to control the tears falling from her eyes. 

Tasting the salt on his tongue, Satoru pulled away and sweetly kissed her tears away. 

“Does it hurt baby?” he asked softly, fear suddenly coating his veins. 

“N-No, you’re just, ah, so, you feel–” her words were messy and slow, yet he couldn’t help but think she couldn’t look more beautiful to him. 

She let down each and every last barrier for him tonight, and he knew how scary that was for her. He wanted to appreciate her, in every way possible, starting with giving her the pleasure that he knew no one had given her. He could tell by her reactions, the surprise on her face at each orgasm that she never came through sex before. It filled him with pride and a sense of ownership. 

He slowed his pace, rubbing circles into her lower back to allow her to breathe. 

“What is it, love?” he coaxed, lovingly smoothing her hair out of her face. 

She gulped down air relaxing into his touch, and she sighed. 

“It’s a lot, I-I’ve never.” she closed her eyes, body shuddering against him. Again, he felt her walls clenching him deliciously, it took everything in him not to moan. 

“I know, baby. I know,” he assured her, peppering kisses along her spine. His hips moved in sync with hers, matching her pace while enjoying the full feeling of her.

“Do you want to stop?” he offered, but she shook her head with vigor even with her eyes showing signs of exhaustion. He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips, she was just as drunk off of him as he is of her. 

He was enjoying this almost too much. He could do this for hours, but he didn’t know if her body would hold up. 

“Good girl,” 

At his praise, her pussy responded, clenching hard around him. 

He smiled, taking his hand and pressing it to the base of her neck, gently forcing her face down into the bed. She screwed her eyes shut, teeth sinking into her lips to conceal her moan. 

With a deep breath in, he picked his pace back up, rolling and hammering his cock into her. Her legs began shaking so much to the point they gave out on her, her body laying flat on the bed as he continued to bring them closer to their high. 

“Fuck, you’re so deep,” she moaned, voice muffled by the sheets. 

He grunted, the compliment filling him with even more motivation. 

“You do such a good job at taking this dick, y/n.” 

She whimpered her orgasm close. He could tell by how tense her body was. Her walls were impossibly tight around him, clenching down hard on his cock as if it was trying to suck him in. 

“D-Daddy I'm close–” 

His eyes rolled back. Hearing her sweet voice say such dirty things for him drove him crazy. 

“I want you to cum all over my cock baby.” 

He pressed kisses to her shoulder, sucking on the skin as his release crept up on him, balls tightening to prepare for the burst. 

Her hands clawed helplessly at the sheets as he overstimulated her body. 

“That’s right, let go, y/n. Let me make you feel good.” 

She screamed his name as she came all around him, dragging his orgasm out of him. White-hot fire crashed over him as he stopped dead in her, shaking violently as he spilled his seed into her for the second time. 

“Fuck,” she heaved, chest rising and falling heavily. He could only nod against her clammy skin, lips pressing soft kisses to her shoulder. 

She reached her hands around their bodies and began rubbing his thighs, small hands trying to soothe him. 

Laughing lightly, he slowly detached himself from her. His cock missed her warmth immediately as he set out to her bathroom, bare feet padding on the cold hardwood floors. He found the towel he sought and returned to her side. 

She whimpered while he helped her into a sitting position. Slowly, he pressed light kisses to her face as he gently cleaned his seed off of her. It had spilled everywhere. Down her thighs, on her ass, on the sheets. Everything was sticky from their various fluids, and it made him feel good knowing he was the one that caused it. 

He looked to y/n. She leaned back on her hands, eyes closed, forehead slick with sweat, lips parted as she tried to breathe. Her nipples were still peaked as he took in the sight of the love marks he had left on her skin. It made him smile. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, pushing some of her hair that stuck to her face out of the way. 

“Hm, so are you.” she hummed happily, opening her eyes to meet his. 

His heart skipped a beat. 

The way she looked at him was indescribable. Even back then, she had been one of the few people who were completely honest with him. She didn’t care how powerful he was. She ignored it and accepted him. He showed her the darkest parts of himself, and she still supported him with a smile. This woman, who he failed to realize his feelings for till it was too late, looked at him with nothing but love.

He pulled her into his lap, taking her lovely face into his hands. 

“I can’t promise you it’ll be easy with me,” her eyes widened. 

“There may be a time where I get hurt, or I sacrifice myself for my students, or I make a stupid decision.” 

“You always make stupid decisions,” she chided with a snort, coaxing a smile out of him. 

“But, my heart is yours, y/n. For however long we are here on this earth, I promise to love you, and only you.” the truth of his words clanged between them as his heart pounded against his chest. It was the first profession of love he ever made and meant – it terrified him. Being this vulnerable, knowing now he truly had a weakness. 

She smiled, softly taking his hands in hers. 

“I love you, Satoru Gojo. I will love you through the pain and blood that awaits us. I will love your stupidity. I will accept your demons, fears, and dreams all the same. I will support you. I am yours.” 

His lips found her soft ones, trying to conceal the tears that fell from his eyes. Despite that, her hands found his cheeks, lovingly wiping away his tears. 

He couldn’t stop the flow. He felt so much at once; relief, pain, sadness, longing, happiness, fear, love. It overwhelmed him. He had missed her for so long. The way he would push her buttons so she could spit fire at him. How he was the only one who saw her soft laugh. He missed the way she would hold his body with her small one, promising him he wasn’t a monster as her scent enveloped his senses. He chased the smell of her for years, due to it being the only thing that made him feel at ease. 

He realized then. 

She was home. She is his home.  

—

One year later

“Y/nnnnnnnn~!” Utahime called out to you, arms spread wide and she ran towards your approaching figure. 

You smiled softly, opening your arms to accept her embrace. The woman crashed into your arms, chest pressing hard against yours as she sobbed into your neck. 

“I thought you died! To think that bastard Gojo found you before I did!” she cried and you laughed, rubbing circles into your friend's back. 

“Oi! What do you mean by ‘bastard Gojo’? And get off my woman!” his tone made you chuckle. 

You two haven’t changed much.

“Utahime, let y/n breathe.” 

You look in the direction of the voice and saw Mei Mei. 

Your heart stopped. She looked even more beautiful than she did when you were young. 

Utahime begrudgingly lets go of your frame. Though she pulled her cool indifferent mask back on, you could make out her slight pout. 

Mei Mei grabbed your shoulder, her red lips pulling into a wicked smile. 

“Have you been well? Has this trash been treating you well?” 

“Hey, I’m right here!” 

“Yes, I have been well, how about you?” you smile innocently as you, Mei Mei and Utahime start walking – ignoring Satoru entirely. 

The grounds of Jujutsu High were just as beautiful as you remembered. You chatted idly with your friends, sharing stories of the past ten years. Utahime couldn’t hide her tears at some parts, where Mei Mei reassuringly rubbed your shoulder. Satoru lazily trailed behind, a secret smile on his lips as he watched you smile with your friends. 

As you entered the main building you sighed, memories flooding your mind of your time here. 

“Time sure does fly,” you muse, spinning in a small circle to take in your surroundings. 

“It does,” they all said in unison, making you chuckle. 

“Do they know?” you asked no one in particular, knowing everyone knew what you were asking. 

“Gojo is still hiding your existence from the higher-ups, which is why we’re confused as to why he brought you here. Is it for Itadori Yuuji?” Mei Mei asked carefully, eyeing Satoru side-long. 

You nodded once. He proposed that you meet Itadori Yuuji, Megumi Fushiguro, and Nobara Kugisaki so they could learn your face and trust you in the future. 

As you approached the classroom an annoyed female voice rang through the hall. 

“Oi! Idiot A and B are you listening?!”

“Yes yes yes, we’re listening”

“I want a steak”

“No you idiot I said we’re eating sushi! Sushi! Listen and repeat after me. Su-shi. Tell that happy-go-lucky teacher of ours that we want sushi!”  

You had to stifle your laughter as Satoru opened the doors to the classroom, arms spread wide with a nonchalant smile plastered on his face. 

“No need to fear your good-looking teacher is here!” 

“Huuuh?” the students said in unison, their heads cocked to the side as they stared at the teacher with dumbfounded expressions. 

Mei Mei and Utahime positioned themselves outside the classroom, ensuring to keep an eye out for anyone who might come down the hall and see you. 

You quietly step into the classroom, an awkward smile on your face as you softly wave to his precious students. 

“Hello, I am y/n l/n. It is nice to meet you.” you bow deeply to show respect to the younger generation, but you hear Satoru’s sneaky chuckle. 

“Gojo-sama is this the girlfriend you’re so obsessed with?” a cool-toned voice called out from the black-haired student. 

Toji’s son, huh?

“No way, this is your girlfriend?!” the pink-haired boy called out, voice full of energy and brightness. 

Sukunas vessel.

“Of course, it’s his girlfriend, look at the way he’s standing so close to her.” the young female chided, looking at you with bright sparkling eyes. 

You couldn’t hide your laughter. You used your hand to cover your mouth as the sight of them reminded you so much of Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko. 

“I wanted to introduce you to her, so in the future, if you have to work with her know that she can be trusted. Back in the day, her strength was second only to mine.” Satoru bragged about you shamelessly to his students, making you blush. 

Yuuji blushed while looking at you whereas Megumi simply turned his gaze away. Nobara still looked at you with awe. 

“Why aren’t you a sorcerer anymore?” Yuuji asked, and you smirked bringing your index finger to your lips. 

“It’s a secret.” you threw the students a wink, and Megumi let out a sigh. 

“You’re just as bad as him.” Megumi stuck his chin out towards Satoru, which made you smile inwardly. 

It’s still strange to think Satoru raised this kid, even if it is to spite the Zen’in clan. 

“Don’t be rude!” Nobara slapped his knee, causing Megumi’s eye to twitch. 

“Stop fighting, you’re making me look bad.” Satoru scolded, but none of them listened. 

“Huh? Who cares about that?” Megumi challenged, easily pushing Satoru’s buttons. 

“Eh? What did you just say you brat?” Satoru wasted no time, locking Megumis head in his arm, aggressively messing his spiky hair up. 

You stood, trying to stifle your laughter at the lively sight. Nobara cheered Satoru on while Yuuji remained shocked at his teacher's actions. You could hear Mei Mei sigh and Utahime covered her eyes in disappointment.

You didn’t know how long this would last, but it made your heart feel so full. It healed the very last wound that plagued your soul. Finally, you were whole again. 

You became remade in the brightness of their light. 

[the-cookie-of-doom]

double dipping wip asks for PROSTITUTE CHAY??!????!???!

Send me an ask and I'll tell you about one of these WIPs!

Answering these together, here's the first one

One of the funniest parts of this AU is that Kim always pays for Chay's time when they hang out together, but Chay refuses to accept the money. He just uses it to fund their dates/gifts for Kim. It literally does not matter how broke he is, it's the principle. He's trying to prove he wants Kim, not just his money, dang it!

There's the tiniest bit of angst in that as much as Kim enjoys spending time with Chay, he is genuinely worried that it's only about the money, and Chay will eventually get tired of him. But Chay is working very hard to prove that will never happen.

Here is your 500 words!

Kim had to give it to Tankhun, his brother had impeccable taste. From the elaborate decorations to the scantily-clad escorts furnishing the venue, every inch of the party was drenched in excess splendor. Khun had spared no expense in celebrating his 30th birthday.  A number of escorts approached Kim throughout the night. None of them caught his interest. He stayed mostly at his brother’s side, rolling his eyes at the pretty boys that managed to draw Kinn’s eye, sharing a private laugh with Khun with their middle brother snuck off to partake in their offerings.  “I don’t understand why you did all of this,” Kim said. His brother had never seemed particularly interested in sex, and while he could easily afford to rent what seemed to be an entire company of escorts for the night, Kim couldn’t see the point.  “I like pretty things,” Khun sniffed. His eyes traced the path of a shirtless, handsome man as he passed by with a tray of drinks, a pair of smart glasses perched on his nose and a look of intense concentration on his face. Khun snagged a glass as he passed then turned to Kim with a smirk, patting his cheek. “That's why you’re my favorite brother.”  Khun’s favoritism was even more fickle than their father’s, but it wasn’t nearly as cruel, so Kim allowed it. He would appreciate his new status until he inevitably did something to annoy him again; or until Kinn won him back with a no-doubt ostentatious gift.  “Ooh, look at that one, isn’t he a darling?”  Kim followed Khun’s shameless pointing; it wasn’t hard to figure out just who had earned his attention. The boy looked entirely out of place. While everyone around him was clad in their best haute couture—dressed for a gala, no one willing to be called out by Tankhun’s shrewd eye, and even Kim let Khun design his outfit for the night—the young man wore a simple button down shirt and slacks. His smile was endearingly awkward as he tripped over seemingly nothing, letting himself be caught in the arms of a guest more interested in looking at his ass than breaking his fall.  “It’s a good act,” was all Kim said. While most of the escorts were presenting themselves as sensual, tempting things, hiding behind coy smiles even as they bared their bodies in invitation, Kim could see the appeal of the naïve ingenue.  Eventually Tankhun wandered off to mingle with his guests, thriving under their verbose praise, and Kim was left to his own devices. It didn’t take long for the boy he’d noticed to find his way to Kim’s side. Kim watched him try the same trick on two other guest, tripping into their arms and giggling in their ears as he thanked them. Most entertained him for a few minutes, then brushed him off in favor of more tantalizing company. After the third attempt he’d locked eyes with Kim, an embarrassed flush creeping across his round cheeks. He swiped two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and made his way over.  “I guess I’m caught, huh?”

[slothpoth]

Idk man maybe your mom was a shit cook

Here is the fic I wrote throughout my work shift about the post @buccellato made about knives not disliking food but disliking specifically Rems food

Excuse it being messy okay I’m doing self care with this okay leave me alone

Word count: around 3k ish

It’s fluffy and has like a smidge (and I mean a smidge) of angst. It reads like the start of a domestic arc

You had known Vash The Stampede as a sort of odd friend. You lived on the outskirts of a town on the back end. Your home is kind of a walk away from town but nothing that would warrant a desire to move closer. It’s likely that exact feature, your distance from your neighbors, is the reason why Vash came to you in order to house his newly defeated evil brother Knives.

You could remember the day so clearly, you had just hung up your laundry to dry. The last thing on your list before you’d make a light lunch, when you saw a car approaching. Usually you’d write it off as someone from town coming to visit— there was this unfortunate case of a bar busser who couldn’t decide if he wanted to be your friend or your lover who’d visit from time to time— but the car wasn’t coming from the town’s direction and it was accompanied by a dark motorcycle.

It pulled up in front of your home and when you rounded the yard you came face to face with an odd group of people. It was Vash, a tired looking man with a large cross, a short girl with short blue hair and a fashionable outfit, a larger girl with a loose fitting suit on, and lastly an injured man who looked almost like a ghostly version of Vash who was obviously heavily disturbed to be there.

You invited them inside for a cool luncheon and Vash dropped his massive request onto you: To house his brother while he healed from his injuries. Vash explained how he would like the entire situation to go, who would come check up on who, who would stay for how long, what he was asking of you. As he continued and you listened patiently, you didn’t really find a part of you that minded too much. As much as you’d verbally deny it, it got lonely out here. It would be nice to have someone in the house even if they were an ex-mass murderer.

You remember the fashionable girl, Meryl was her name, had asked if you were sure:

Meryl leaned forward in her chair, “He’s nothing like Vash y’know, All pricks and no peace.”

“Yeah, well I chose them for a reason,” Vash turned back to you, “He is, indeed, very prickly and has a very…distinct dislike for humanity— and I’d completely understand if you’d rather not—“

“I’ll do it,” I said, “It can’t be that bad.” After I said that they seemed to send looks to each other before my future roommate/charge spoke up.

“There’s an awful lack of consideration to my wants, as if I’d want to live out in the boonies with a insignificant parasite,” Knives all but hissed.

“Oh? I’m a parasite? But one of us is about to be living and cared for with no rent and no labor. Even worse forcing me, the assumed parasite, to work twice as hard to support the both of us,” your face had tensed up with what looked like a smile but felt like a threat, “But by all means, if you believe you’ll fare better off in the sandy dunes while injured and weakened, be my guest.”

Knives’ visage curled up and he leaned forward, as if he was going to start growl and gnash his teeth like some hellhound, the only thing halting him was his brother’s hand shoving him back onto the cushions while thanking me profusely.

From that day onward you were both nursing the war criminal and trying to ‘persuade him into tolerating the human race and all their quirks’. It was fun to consider yourself an ambassador, it was not fun doing the ambassador job.

Prickly was an understatement when it came to Knives. He was outright hostile when he first showed up. It helped that you were hellbent on respecting his privacy but even then you had no way if it made a difference. You two would spit insults at eachother like venom, no comment went unaddressed. Knives would get so agitated that he would sprout his sharp tendrils, but that didn’t stop you from trying to get your point across. At one point the two of you argued for an hour straight simply because he insulted the fact that you did laundry. You didn’t know about Knives, but you deeply enjoyed being able to go back and forth with someone. It felt fun.

So far today, you and Knives have had two arguments. One about sleeping and one about humanity, again. You knew with every argument about humanity it was more likely that you were stirring the pot rather than taking it off the burner but what else were you supposed to do when he insisted that all humanity did was destroy despite his alleged deep knowledge of human history.

Speaking of stirring the pot, you were making dinner. It was a delicious seasoned stew that made the house smell nice while it was cooked. It was an older recipe that required harder to get ingredients like produce and softer meats with lots of fat but it lasted so long it was worth the dip in pocket change.

You were expecting an argument about the stew soon. Knives usually got upset when you used vegetation in food, calling it a ‘grotesque escalation in oppression’. You tried to explain that humans needed vitamins like plants do and about the food chain, but he was hearing none of it and didn’t speak to you for an entire week. What a peaceful week.

“What are you making?” You placed a hand on your chest and whipped around to see Knives scowling in the kitchen doorway.

“I’m making a big stew so I have leftovers for a while, would you like to try it?” You replied, turning back to your pot. You knew he didn’t like eating, at most he’d have a shot of tea once a decade. You still asked though in case he changed his mind one day, no matter how unlikely—

“Maybe.”

You paused mid-stir, then turned back to him. He was leaned against the doorway and his head turned away from you so you could see his face.

You pondered for a beat, “Would you like a place at the table, too?”

Knives stood there for a breath then pushed off the doorway and made his way to the table to sit. He must be in a good mood today.

This felt like a test. Not once while you were cooking did Knives comment on something you were apparently doing wrong, not even when you accidentally touched the pot without a mitten on. All of this felt far too high tension for what was supposed to be a nice evening with stew and some music. Now it felt like if this evening didn’t go right something would go deeply wrong.

You had grabbed placemats only to find the table preset with Knives on one end and where you would be sitting at the other. Fork, spoon, and cup were present on both sides.

Knives was bracing himself on table with his forearms on the table with one arm up and cradling his head as he gazed out the open window into the dark desert night.

The combination of the dim, yellow, inside lights and the shine from the moon on this clear night made the scene feel both intimate and dramatic. There he sat, destroyer of worlds, the same man that could cut the population into pieces literally and figuratively, waiting patiently for some food he’d ‘maybe’ have. You were his deliverer, the one who decided how his favor tilted… when it came to food at least.

After placing down an adequately sized trivet, you placed the pot of stew on top and served yourself a bowl. Then you held out your hand for Knives’ bowl.

He looked up at you, looked at his bowl, and then proceeded to grab it and stand next to you. He was close enough for you to feel the lack of body heat from him, which was way closer than you were used to. Sure, he would brush past you from time to time but that was very rarely and with a muttered complaint at having to in the first place. This was a choice.

“What ...tastes good in this?” Knives’ almost murmured.

“Well,” You started, “Normally I’d say ‘depends on your taste’ but I don’t think you have a frame of reference for that. So instead, how about I give you a little bit of everything in there so you can pick through it at your own pace?” You put your hand out to the side and he placed the bowl in your hand with a grunt.

You slowly started to fish around the stew for each ingredient with Knives hovering over you silently. You didn’t put too much liquid in case he got agitated with fishing around for the next taste, y’know just to be careful.

Once you were done you handed the bowl to him and he sat. You went to turn on the radio and sat across from him, who was staring down at the stew. You took the initiative to put some in your mouth, in case he thought it was poisoned. The warm comfort of the stew eased your nerves and allowed you to relax. God—you were so good at cooking, and you were excited to see if Knives agreed.

You were stuck between giving Knives his privacy to try this new experience on his own and the Chef’s Desire to see if he liked the food. You glanced up in time to see him open his mouth to take a spoonful of stew into his maw.

He had too many teeth, and the pattern seemed too animalistic for a human. His canines too sharp and silhouette too predatory. Not to mention the freakishly long tongue that came to a point. You got just a glimpse inside but you could imagine how they’d sit in his mouth. You knew he wasn’t human, but how far did the differences go? Did he have differently colored gums?if he had any at all? What was the consistency of his saliva like? Was it more alike to the humanoid weak digestive type or something more alien? Did he even have taste buds?

You watched transfixed as the spoon was caressed by his tongue before his mouth shut and he suckled away any excess he could from the utensil.

You looked back down at your half eaten stew, a different hunger flaring up. What an unfortunate discovery to make about an unfortunate subject.

Knives standing up pulled you from your unfortunate circumstances, and just when you were going to be told it was mediocre, he grabbed the ladle and served himself some more. Then after he wolfed that down, he fed himself some more. At one point you offered him some juice you had made and he went through five entire cups of it. Four more servings later and he finally stood to put his bowl in the sink before leaving the dining room.

You had long finished your two servings— it was good stew what could you say— and washed and packed everything up. Turning off the kitchen light you noticed the back porch door was open, approaching it you found Knives sitting on the rocking chair back there. He was looking out into the distance again, likely lost in thought. When you moved to close the screen door he spoke.

“It was good.”

“Well I’d hope it was good, I’d be really confused if you ate all that and hated it,” you teased.

Knives seemed to fluster a bit before turning and looking at you in the doorway. He stared before looking down at the seat adjacent to him, then back at you.

You knew what he wanted. He also knew you didn’t like when he would just expect you to know what he wanted.

He sighed and said, “Come, sit.” After you didn’t move he grit out a strained ‘please’ which made you happily quickly grab a throw from the living room and come join him outside.

“I’m guessing you’ve never had stew before?” You said as you sat down.

“I have. Just not like that before,” he switched his focus from the dancing dunes in the distance to you. Bright blue eyes almost glowing in the dark.

“What do you mean ‘like that before’?” You asked, pulling the throw closer to yourself.

He was silent for a moment, simply staring at you unblinking. Then he exhaled through his nose and spoke, “When Vash and I were younger we…had a caretaker on our ship. She was a woman named Rem. She was the first live interaction I had with a human and she introduced me and my brother to many of our firsts. I’ve had her cooking before and it never tasted the way yours did. Yours was more…” he trailed off, as if at a lost for words.

Pushing away the urge to try to pry more into his background you replied, “Well if you were on a ship it’s likely that they didn’t put a lot into making sure the food was extra delicious or anything. It might’ve been mostly pre-made and freeze dried, and like that combo is notoriously bad.”

He hummed and silence fell between you two. Then the mental image of his unfortunate mouth and the unfortunate spoon came to mind and you tensed and turned your head away.

You had lots of questions, some more inappropriate than others, but you knew you weren’t getting answers for them for a while if ever. Knives was a consistent person, and through your arguments over the past few months you’ve come to learn a lot about him. With more time you’ll likely learn more, that is until Vash deems him well enough to travel with his gaggle of misfits.

Huh, that made a pang of loneliness hit unexpectedly. It made sense. At some point he’ll want to live on his own, or at the very least without you, so why did that bother you a bit?

You must just be tired or something, “Hey Knives? I think I’m gonna turn in early, are you okay to sit out here?”

He turned to you, his brow furrowed. “Yes, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well ya never know,” You stood and patted dust off your bottom. You should clean out here more often. “Maybe you’d prefer to have my company.”

Knives huffed in return and turned his head away, back to gazing into the distance. You turned your own way and walked into the house. When you had just cleared the screen door, you heard Knives say something outside.

“What was that?” You looked at him through the screen.”

“….goodnight.” He wasn’t looking at you.

You smiled even if he couldn't see it, “Goodnight, Knives.”

You went upstairs and went to bed. The house still smelled like stew.

[unicyclehippo]

For the prompt: Comfort. For whichever thing you’d like. (Love your work!)

(i havent finished the most recent cr ep btw but i havent written in weeks & i wanna do smth)

ligament manor makes room for them all inside its trunk. the wood swells in enormous pustules and harden; water, uncomfortably dark and smelling ripe and rotting, seeps from the doorways as they split open. inside the rounded rooms are perfectly lovely bedrooms and no one can quite say whether it’s better or worse that the rooms are totally dry.

‘just as you each desire,’ nana morrigan sighs, with a stretching smile.

orym has a hammock right over fearne’s bed. he springs up into it, glee overtaking his wariness for a moment, and the door closes on laughter.

ashton and FCG creak into a bizarre room that has largely kept its egg-like shape. the wood grain is cracked to let in the air, and for them to see the faint glimmer of morrigan’s fane. the barrier bursts with occasional flickers of light, like malevolent stars, as some creature tries to cross the border…or is simply unlucky enough to lose its way.

chetney’s room is mostly workshop. the bed, the brief glimpse laudna gets of it, looks rather like a large drawer. chetney sniffs, shoves a rough hand under his nose to wipe it, and clambers over the side.

‘and for you, dear,’ nana morrigan bids laudna to follow. as they walk, she says, ‘i notice you collected a few bones from my…guests.’

‘they’re very nice bones. the topiary kept them in marvellous condition.’

‘thank you,’ morrigan croons, seemingly touched by the compliment. ‘i do try my best.’

‘may i take them? i love to make crafts but if they’re, you know, bad deal bones and they’re yours, i…’ laudna pouts. ‘i don’t want to be rude, obviously, and i would certainly never steal from you—‘

at the very word, nana morrigan’s face creases into something forbidding, terrible. ‘you wouldn’t get away with it,’ she growls. with a great effort, nana relaxes. ‘but no, they’re no longer…special. you may take some if you wish. my fearnie tells me you’re a wonderful crafter.’

laudna beams, cheeks purpling. she turns bashful, tucks her hair behind her ears. ‘oh, well, yes i love to make dolls and puppets, keep my hand in the crafting game so to speak. i’m no master like chetney, but,’

‘there’s heart in your creations.’

‘if i can find one, yes, sometimes! i do like them to seem authentic.’

nana morrigan cracks a huge grin. ‘take the bones, dear. and if you have a moment… make a puppet for me.’

‘i’d love to! any requests? dragons? beasts? people?’

the grin widens. ‘surprise me,’ tummy nana growls. ‘and this is your bedroom,’ nana continues, stepping aside to reveal the door to a small bedroom. ‘sleep well,’ she singsongs, offkey and vaguely threatening. laudna cheerily waves goodnight.

the room is bizarre. the wood grain is bleached in places, almost marbled, and the ceiling stretches up into darkness. a crooked rafter braces the distance, from which hangs a chandelier. the candles are burning low but bright and by that light laudna can see two comfortable single beds and a nightstand between them. the room is identical to so many inn rooms they’d rented but laudna’s heart gives a small unsteady wriggle in her chest. she would have liked to sleep beside imogen tonight.

imogen is already there. in body, anyway. there’s distant look in her eyes as if her mind were somewhere else entirely.

‘what a lovely room.’

inogen hums. one hand twists at the end of her hair; the other rests her comb in her lap, long forgotten.

‘it reminds me of that inn. oh, where was it. we had just come up from the highlands and left that caravan and the inn was practically empty, why, the keeper didn’t even blink at what i looked like so long as we were happy to part with some coin. remember that?’

imogen hums again.

laudna creeps forward, reaches out. her fingers curl into her palm before she can touch imogen’s shoulder; there’s this fear, utterly unfounded, that imogen will vanish if she touches her. she feels so distant.

‘darling?’ laudna settles beside her on the bed, which barely dips beneath her weight. ‘are you sure you’re alright?’

a faint smile crinkles across imogen’s face, lifts a dimple into her cheek. her eyes meet laudna’s finally. ‘i’m fine,’ she says, voice low. ‘i’m good.’

‘oh good.’

‘that’s the best outcome, right? this thing i’ve been running from forever—it’s not that bad. that’s good. isn’t that how you felt when you and delilah hurt that guy? invigorated. that’s what you said.’

the words made laudna shiver with the wrongness.

‘i don’t know.’

imogen huffs. ‘laudna—‘

‘honesty. communication. remember?’

‘of course, honey. not that we have a problem with that.’

laudna’s forehead creases. didn’t they? there’s so much she hasn’t told imogen. of hunger like rusted iron nails in her gums, of the way food settles like a brick in her stomach, of how power makes her feel alive, not invigorated but truly alive. pulse, warmth, breath. of the muddled and confusing hallways of her mind and memories and the true comfort it was to have delilah with her through the decades—how a person, no matter how frightening, how wretched, how cruel, was still a voice to keep her company through the long dark. how after the warmth and invigoration laudna only felt sick sick sick. how the idea of imogen giving in to the call made something in her—something small and frightened and very very quiet—rebel with every strained breath it had.

‘i don’t like it,’ laudna whispers. ‘please don’t do it again.’

imogen’s jaw clenches. her hand tightens around the handle of her comb. ‘do what?’ there is a dangerous edge to her voice.

laudna shrinks until she can’t shrink any more and then, before she loses her nerve, she lashes out a hand to imogen’s wrist. holds it.

‘we are each others tether. please don’t - don’t break it. don’t let go. don’t leave.’

‘laud—‘

‘don’t give in again, imogen, please. i was wrong. i was wrong, we have to fight it. please, imogen.’

a moment passes, then another. the fight goes out of imogen and with a quick breath it is as if she touches back down. her eyes meet laudna’s and lock in, focused, and her smile is sweet and familiar.

‘okay. okay. i promise.’

they get ready for bed together as they always have. imogen is wonderfully there, helping laudna out of her dress and searching out a glass of water for them both, which she sets on the nightstand. she lays on her side facing laudna and whispers a goodnight.

laudna returns it faintly.

imogen promised. imogen held her hand, kissed her cheek, and promised.

imogen lied.

[izzyeffinhands]

The Best of Birthdays

“ I swear to fuck you boys drop this cake and I’ll kill you. “ Izzy had told both Frenchie and Fang earlier in the morning when they went to the venue. He’d managed to sneak out early, crack of dawn early before Stede was awake to get the damn thing delivered. Of course he already knew that Stede knew he’d baked a cake, but he had no idea what it was and he knew the suspense was killing him. With both of their help he managed to move the very large cake inside the small bar. This was one of their favorite places to go and Izzy had insisted he rent the space for a party. He was good at showing his love like that, going the extra mile for his beloved writer. He’d made it back home before Stede was even the wiser, once again tucked into bed.

It was impossible to hide this party so it had been discussed and by the evening the two of them were already heading to the bar. He’d been counting on their friends to finish decorating, possibly being a tad of a dictator about the party in ways just because it was his first birthday with him and he wanted it to be the best he’d ever had. Food had been chosen, games set up, even some entertainment.. which was a big part of the surprise. At least the first part of it, anyway. It was a private party but had been opened up a little to those that came to the bakery and bookshop. Izzy had invited quite a few, but he made sure the most important of people were there.

So Izzy had gotten into his tightest and sexiest leather pants he could find. He didn’t really have too much of a backside to show but he damn sure had a lot in the front. Leather belt was situated slightly askew, black boots on his feet. He was the definition of leather daddy tonight, but this was also a queer bar they visited that he’d rented out. It was in a safe part of town for them. He’d put on a gorgeous black top which he deliberately left open so he could show off the top of his chest. He was damn sure going to be a feast for the eyes for his partner tonight. He’d parked the car and started walking the guest of honor down the sidewalk, also in his best.

“ This is going to be the best birthday you’ve ever had. “ Izzy reassured, snatching his waist in their saunter to kiss the top of his head. Living in a seaside town this time of year in July it could get hot during the day, but at night it was a bit cooler as the light had been turned off. One could argue that renting the space, making the cake, making preparations were gift enough.. but the baker had gone an extra mile for his birthday gift tonight. They’d begin together for nearly a year now.. wow. Nearly a year. Longest relationship he’s ever had for sure. He rounded the corner with him and untwined from around his waist so he could head to the door.

“ I see him!!!! “ Ed shouted proudly from the window. He was the lookout.. and damn didn’t his ex look good in those leather pants. The man of honor was looking good too.

“ So are we all shoutin’ surprise, or? I mean it’s not really a surprise is it.. we’re just ‘ere at the bar — “ Frenchie rambled, at least until Jim gave him a hard smack to the back of his head.

“ Of course we’re shouting surprise, pendejo. He hasn’t seen all the work that we’ve put in! “ They tsk’ed with their mouth. But in a few short moments the door was opening and all of them were waiting in position with smiles in the brightly decorated bar, Jim bringing a noisemaker to their mouth.

“ SURPRISE!!!!! “

[fillyoursoulxx]

closed starter for @tinymute​ ft juliette

One. Two. Three. Four.

Four. Three. Two. One.

Each of Silas’ fingers tapped the pad of his thumb as he moved through the massive entry hall. He weaved in and out, offering h'dourves and overall just trying to breathe as he had to shift and side step and do his best not to bump into anyone not paying attention. His skin crawled. His chest was tight, a cluster of icy barbs lodged right in the middle of it and fuck-- it felt like a mess of angry hornets were between his ears. He was aware of it all individually and all at once. He wanted to shut his eyes, to step out of at least one of his senses, but he’d learned when he started...this was just part of the job. 

Actual event spaces weren’t so bad. They had open concepts with lots of exits and decent acoustics. Staff had designated places to take a moment without having to worry about disturbing or being disturbed by a guest. Speaking of staff, there were more of them opposed to a few being hand picked to consequentially run into the ground. And furniture. They didn’t have completely unnecessary furniture or taxidermy or priceless vases in the most idiotic places.

Event spaces made sense. This was not that. 

It was some grand mansion event...not a wedding. Birthday maybe? Hell if he knew. He knew better than to take these kinds of parties. They were living nightmares and considering he had plenty of the regular kind, he didn’t need this. And yet here he was, making his way to the equally massive living room. For what? Oh-- right. He needed to make up for skipping out early before. Emanuel hadn’t been too happy about it, especially since Silas only texted rather than confirming he was actually ‘sick’. He hadn’t gotten into trouble but wasn’t like he got sick time. So this, however uncomfortable was needed. He had rent to pay.

Thankfully this area was less packed and a little more chill than the foyer and pool area. He made his rounds there and then made his way out again, cursing under his breath as he almost immediately collided with a set of guests. Apologizes were offered before he breezed past a similarly dressed figure, one of his co-workers no doubt, and into the first room he could find.

He needed a moment. Just a small one. Because right now he wanted to fucking crawl out of his skin. Looking around the room, which was likely someone’s study he heard the door open and he groaned, “Lenny, I know. It’s busy, but I need a minute so please fuck--” the words flew out of his mouth before he turned and made eye contact with...a familiar pair of clear blue eyes. He blinked, completely unaware he was already smiling. 

“--oh. You definitely aren’t-- uh. Hi” 

[guessimate]

Today we’re playing the Venditor family – the new merchants in town. I already introduced them in this post.

I got a plague ROS and the family fell sick with the flu for 3 days. I don’t have the more realistic sickness mod, so it wasn’t a death sentence, but they had to stay home. I didn’t worry about the kids, as I don’t think children can die of the flu and I couldn’t infect the toddler.

It makes sense they would fall sick in a new place, and also it’s autumn, so there are a lot of germs in the air.

Everyone but Ysella combatted their illness within a day, but because it took a longer time for her to get better, grandpa Sayed got infected again, but they were fine by Thursday (the toddler’s birthday) anyway. They all got well quite quickly, but I decided against the idea of infecting them again once Saul aged up, as I really wanted them to go to their business at least once.

Because of this ROS little Saul was able to learn all his toddler skills. Mother taught him to walk, grandfather - to talk, grandmother helped him with the potty, and even his big brother helped by singing the Nursery Rhyme with him.

The kids went to school only once, but I’ll still teleport them over to the Church so that they can meet some other merchant & gentry kids.

~*~

They sold some goods that the previous merchants left, but I don’t want to restock all of the expensive décor all the time. I want to focus on reselling harvestables and other goods bought from other families.

I thought it would make sense to introduce laundry now after the plague has struck, so I put some soap in the store as well. I put some cologne and jewelry on the lot, and more groceries to stock the fridge with.

I would like to have servants come here and get some shopping done, at least the groceries and the soap for doing the laundry.

I’ll probably make them go to their bazaar only once a week so that they won’t get too rich too quickly.  

~*~

Sayed inherited like 990$ from his lover, Euphrosina, but it really doesn’t matter, as I had to set their money when they were first opening the business.

They ended up with earnings of 7704$ [7489$ + some random bonus of 215$ one of the kids got at school]. They had 8704$ in the bank, as merchants start with 1000$ after the initial stocking.

2000$ – rent.

1541$ – tax.

= 3550$ to the Royal Family who has earned 149,050$ so far in this town.

770$ – tithe, rounded up to 800$. The Church has accumulated 25,050$ to date.

They dug up just a bone.

They’re left with 4354$. Hopefully that’s enough to get some goods from the townsfolk next round... if there is anything to sell, because it will be winter. Let’s hope winter comes early!

~*~

Grandma Safiya – despite her romantic nature – makes for a great wife and she isn’t suspecting that her husband is meeting other women behind her back. She was happy to cook for the family when they were sick, and to do laundry after the illness. She even rolled to get some cleaning skill points, even though she’s quite a slob, and she wanted to cook as well.

~*~

Elvira Croix, the “insane” noble lady came over and invited herself in, probably to try to mend her friendship with the family, which is very important to her as a Popularity sim. Maybe she knew one of Ysella’s children would be aging up, so she expected a birthday party. The Venditors really didn’t expect more guests, but Enrique Avesnes followed Elvira and they stayed at the merchant house for a while. 

Maybe the townsfolk are confused because nobody was leaving the house for a while due to the illness or they expected the house to be vacant after the Emeres had moved out?

[romanceisdeadbutimnot]

Wearing Red

💋

Hawks x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: No actual sex or mention of it, but it’s pretty steamy so read at your own discretion (children get lost). Also it’s not necessarily dubcon bc they both consent but Hawks is a little tipsy so if that makes you uncomfortable this is a heads up :) Features drinking and hickies

Female Reader

Summary

You have a crush on your best friend Hawks -so when he begs you to be his date for a party you reluctantly agree. He ends up ditching you to drink with Mirko, but regrets it when he finds you flirting with another man.

From there you’re both forced into confessing in a very round about way.

Link to ao3 here

Ch 2 Ch3

Chapter 1

“No.”

“C’mon, please?” He begs you, hands clasped together on his knees.

“No.”

“Please, please, please, please please?”

“Keigo, I already said no! I’m not going with you to this stupid party.”

“I promise it’ll be fun. Please! I can’t go alone! I need a date.” He blinks at you, a pout forming on his lips. You knew it was for show. You knew he was doing it because it would make you cave, and he’d get exactly what he wants. Sighing, you put up one last front, despite the aching in your chest.

“Oh no, not Japan’s most wanted bachelor showing up to a party without a woman on his arm. The horror.” You turn away from him, away from his pleading eyes. You don’t make it far before he’s grabbing your arm pulling you around to face him again.

His eyes scan your face. You knew he was perceptive. So perceptive it plagued your every waking moment. You wondered what he saw, if he noticed how your pupils dilated, or the faint pink dusting your cheeks. You wondered if he saw through the firm scowl settled on your face. Whatever it was he saw it caused him to grin. His voice turned teasing.

“Please, you’re not just some woman-“

“Way to make a girl feel special,” You roll your eyes.

“C’mon please, for me?” He’s pouting again, but his eyes sparkle with mischief. He knows he’s won.

“Fine. Fine!” You throw your hands up for exaggeration. “I’ll go with you to the party, but don’t expect me to be twerking out on the dance floor.”

He envelopes you in a hug, twirling you in circles and laughing. You can’t help but notice how good he smelled, his cologne permeating your senses.

“You won’t regret it, I promise. I already have your outfit picked out and everything.” Feathers bring me a cherry red dress, silky satin. They’re followed by a parade of heels, a necklace with its matching bracelet and earrings, and a golden clutch. You shoot the offending man a pointed glare. This wasn’t the first time that he had picked outfits for you to wear. In fact it wasn’t odd at all that he was spoiling you. His job afforded him many luxuries and a large disposable income was one of them. You used to fight with him tooth and nail over giving you such extravagant gifts, especially with such frequency. He shrugged and told you ‘Who else would I spend money on?’. You guess he had a point, with no family that you knew of, and no partners you were the closest person he had.

That didn’t stop you from rejecting some of his more frivolous gifts. Late spring he tried to buy your whole apartment building after you had complained about how high rent was for such a shitty living space. Somehow you’d managed to persuade him against it, on the condition you’d move out and live with him until you found a more affordable option that he approved of. Turns out finding a building he approved of was more difficult than you imagined -they didn’t have a balcony for him to land on, or were in a neighborhood with high rates of crime, there was black mold, or a lack of sunlight. It had been 8 months and you were still sleeping in the guest bedroom of ‘one of his apartments’. This wasn’t the apartment the hero commission had given him, or the smaller one he’d shown you when you first became close. With the proximity to your work and favorite coffee shop you wanted to accuse him of buying it just for you, but you never got around to confronting him. How conceited would it be to claim he bought it for you, and if you were wrong and it was all a coincidence you would be mortified.

So you stayed quiet. It was something you had gotten quite good at. You stayed quiet when he kissed your cheek, and when he bought you a dress and begged you to be his date for a party. You stayed quiet when he bought you dinner or cuddled up to you on the couch. You liked him, god you had fallen for him so hard, but there was something in the easiness of it all that always made you question. He was a flirt through and through, but you could never tell if he was only flirting with you. He was always with other heroes (who he most certainly did not flirt with) or fans of his (which he flirted with in a hero persona fan service sort of way.) The flirty persona he exuded was distinctly different from how he flirted with you. You could hardly blame him for trying to keep up appearances with fans, but that left you questioning why he constantly pulled you into his lap, nuzzling you like a lost cat. You always meant to confront the behavior one day, but you never found the right moment, so you just stayed quiet -pliant with his demands. Besides you didn’t mind how things were, just the two of you. But you knew the moment he brought someone new home your heart would shatter. But you pushed the thought aside, whatever it was you and Keigo were, it could stay that way.

You don’t know if he was being cheeky on purpose or if this was really the dress attire but your dress was sexy. Maybe too sexy, it was short, not short enough to make you terribly uncomfortable, but enough that you’d have to be mindful if you wanted to bend over. It was fairly loose but certainly tailored to your exact measurements the way it sunk into your waist. Not to mention there was a fair amount of cleavage. You weren’t normally the type of girl to shy away from short skirts or low cut tops, given the appropriate setting to wear them, but for some reason having a guy pick them out for you -having Hawks pick them out for you made you self conscious and a little embarrassed. The silky red dress was the same color as his wings. You had told him before countless times that red wasn’t your color, but he insisted that you looked stunning it.

The golden jewelry was beautiful but you had a feeling they were overpriced. You’d make sure to take care of them and lecture him on expensive gifts again. You apply a light layer of makeup and spritz on a little perfume, putting on the heels and walking with as much fake confidence as you could out of your room.

He’s waiting for you on the couch already having changed into his suit for the evening. When you walk in he perks up, eyes widening before a teasing smile sneaks it’s way onto his face.

“Damn dove you’re smoking’.” He stands to admire his work, scanning your form with fervor.

“Shut up you overgrown bird.” You swat at him as he gets closer to you. He expertly and easily doges you pulling you into his arms. He rests his chin on your head.

“You almost look too good to take, I might get jealous.” You frown, he was teasing you again you knew it.

“We wouldn’t want that to happen I better stay home,” you fire back, trying and failing to escape his grasp. He backtracks.

“No no no dove, you already promised. No take backsies.”

He insists you fly there; you adamantly refuse. You’d mess up your hair, and your dress was short enough that you’d risk flashing someone in the process. He promised he’ll fly slow, and high enough that no one will see. Despite your protests he scoops you up and shoots into the sky. True to his word the two of you fly high into the air, above the clouds where you felt a little breathless. He also flies slow, well relatively slow considering how fast he usually was. It was still enough to send your hair flying. It was hard to protest much when you saw the childlike glee every time he took you into the sky. Or when he fussed over your appearance after landing -righting every stray hair, picking off stray pieces of dust and debris with keen eyes. The whole process took 15 minutes. Fifteen minutes of you standing on the rooftop as he preened you.

“Bird.” You’d call him. The insult was always meant to be laced with annoyance, but it always came out sugary sweet, dripping with warmth and fondness.

“You forgot to add the ‘pretty’, love.” He’d always respond.

Well, the party was pretty much what you expected. Drunken heroes and supermodels -the rich, powerful, and elite letting loose in the form of overpriced alcohol. Despite Keigo's promise that it would be fun, he disappears 40 minutes in after being challenged by Mirko to a drinking contest. He tells you he’d be back soon, but you knew he was lying. You had tried to go along to watch knowing your winged friend wouldn’t be coming back, but Mirko shot you down. Something about needing hero talk or whatever. It would be an understatement to say you were pissed.

You’d give him hell for leaving you all alone and defenseless if it wasn’t for the 3 red feathers stuck to your form. One had tucked itself into your hair after stroking your cheek. One had slipped into the back of your dress tickling your spine. One was none too gently poking you as it flitted about your form. You half had in mind to snatch it from the air and throw it in the trash bin had it not been a firm reminder that he was still actively thinking and watching over you.

You keep yourself busy with a drink from the bar and finding a relatively quiet spot to sip at it and watch the pros act un-heroically. Some recognized you from your previous outings with Hawks, and chatted idly with you about how the music was too loud and quelling their curiosities about your relationship to said hero.

You hadn’t seen a glimpse of the winged hero for nearly an hour and a half in which the feathers poking had become inconsistent, sometimes disappearing for 10 minutes at a time. Some young and upcoming hero had sat himself next to you and was chatting about work. You weren’t really paying attention to the fellow, bored with his self absorbed conversation and poor attempts at flirting. He offered to buy you a drink which you declined. From experience you knew that if Hawks was off drinking with Mirko you’d have to find him somewhere, plastered and passed out on the table while she was laughing her ass off, you’d rather be relatively sober yourself to make sure at least one of you was making sound decisions. So instead of drinking more you had gripped onto the wandering feather, lightly pinching it. A message for Keigo that you were not having a fun time and he’d be paying for it later.

“Actually, that sounds like a lot of fun. Why don’t you give me your number and I’ll text you when I’m free?” You smile at the man, turning your attention to him fully for the first time all night. You didn’t really want to get ice cream with him if his conversational ability was anything like tonight, but this wasn’t about him, this was about Hawks ignoring you all night.

“Really? I mean, great!” He splutters out, grabbing your phone from your outstretched hand. He punches in his number with glee handing it back to you. That’s when Hawks enters the scene, predictably furious.

[nctsworld]

two nights, one you

✩‌ jaemin ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fuckboy!jaemin | strangers (who f*ck) to (brief) enemies to lovers | ‌10.9k 

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ a last-minute one night stand gone awry is extended into two nights when you’re snowed in at the cute (but rude) stranger’s apartment on christmas eve. [loosely based on the movie, two night stand] // part of the x-mas in ncity collection  GENRES ⇾ crack | smut | fluff  WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌lots of bickering and dialogue, smut, oral s*x (f and m receiving), fingering, mentions of alcohol/drinking, swearing, bit of angst before the end, jaemin’s an asshole... or is he? RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen​ 

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ it’s late (and long fsldkm), srysry but here it is! i hope the humour comes out in this and look away if falls flat zzz fingers crossed that i can finish the last two installments for this collection asap! 

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Maybe it’s because it’s the evening of Christmas Eve Eve and you’re feeling more lonely than usual.

Maybe it’s due to the two glasses of wine you guzzled down in the span of fifteen minutes that get you buzzed.

Maybe it’s your prominent six-month dry spell and you’re in desperate need for some much needed rain in your drought.    

Or maybe it’s just pure impulsiveness.

Regardless of the reasons, you’re aiming to get laid tonight.  

It’s 9:45pm as you make the rounds on Tinder. You’ve used it in the past, searching for a relationship in vain, but haven’t used it much since you broke up with your last partner. Bringing the app alive again, you’re already bombarded by distasteful messages, off-putting one-liners and jokes, and swiping left more than you’d like.

You haven’t had a one-night stand before, but isn’t there anyone on here that is just a little bit attractive, nearby where you are, around your age, and is somewhat chivalrous about the topic besides saying DTF? Maybe you need to lower your standards if you want to get dicked down tonight.

But then, you land on him.

One Na Jaemin, 20 years old, and only four miles away from you.

Scrolling through his profile pictures and Instagram feed, you assume that he’s into photography, is on the athletic side from the various hobbies he partakes in, and he must be at least half-aware of his beauty because there’s the occasional pic that shows off his lean, toned arms, which, if you can be frank, is more flattering than the shirtless ones you constantly see. Oh, and he attends the same university as you.

The cherry on top? His bio is simple and upfront:

“Not up for anything serious, but always down for a good time ;)”

You swipe right without hesitation.

“It’s a Match!” flashes instantly at you. Your mouth swings open in disbelief.  

Usually, you’d wait for your matches to message you and play hard-to-get, but not tonight. Tonight, you’re initiating and leading all the conversations, completely driven by your thirst.  

Messaging Jaemin is a breeze. He types with more than half a brain, and he flirts, but it isn’t overwhelming or repulsive. Segueing the current topic, you drag your bottom lip upward as you send the following message:  

so, hypothetically... if one were to have good time with you would tonight work?

Not even twenty seconds later and he replies with:

-wow, dont you go straight to the point -im impressed -but yeah -tonight works ;)

He’s quick to send his address.

-let me know when ur here and ill come get you out front!

Smacking your lips together, you squeal to yourself in the comfort of your home, excited to meet with him, but then a thought hangs over you—this feels a little too good to be true. Horrible scenarios run through your head, so your fingers dash across your phone’s keyboard:

tbh i haven’t really done this b4 so im kinda new to this is it ok if we video call or smth? gotta make sure you’re real and not a serial killer i’m sure you understand 😛

-for sure for sure -totally get it -ive had my fair share of fake girls and serial killers so i feel u 😛

Grateful for his consideration, you rush to rearrange your hair after you send him a Zoom link, hoping you look decent enough to not have him back off from his initial offer. He appears in the video call on his phone with the front-facing camera on a few seconds after you connect.

“Hi,” you chirp.

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Hey.”  

Okay, he’s definitely cuter in real-time than in his pictures.  

“You know, I’m not gonna lie, but I lowkey expected to see a dick or something,” you joke in an attempt to dispel your nervousness.  

“Same,” he chuckles, running a hand through his black hair.

Oh God, he’s not just cute—he’s devastatingly gorgeous.

“So, this is my place...”

Jaemin moves around with his apartment in the background, revealing his living room first. Envy prods you as you note the brick walls, high ceiling windows, and well-appointed furnishings.

Recalling his address, you ask, “How’d you get a place in the heart of the city?”

“Lucked out,” he shrugs. His phone shakes a bit as he’s still moving. “My friend slash roommate—who is at his girlfriend’s place tonight, so we have the place all to ourselves—his parents own the condo and they gave me a friend discount on the rent.”

He finally stands in one place and turns the light on to reveal a room. “And this is my bedroom.”

Nothing out of the ordinary. A desk table with a gaming set-up, in tow with a gamer chair, and a decently-sized bed beside a nightstand.

“Oh, and here’s my closet.” Jaemin’s on the move again as he opens his closet doors. “Just to make sure you don’t think I hide the skins of my past one-nighters in here.”

A bubbly laugh rises from you. “Okay, I didn’t think of that before, but now you’ve planted the seed in my head. Maybe you hide them in the other rooms.”

“Nah, my roommate would kill me if I did.”

Both of you laugh in unison, and you bob your head with puffed cheeks.  

“Okay, it all seems very promising. I’m going to get ready and I’ll guess I’ll see you in a bit, Jaemin.”

“Sounds good,” Jaemin nods, then winks. Although you’re sitting down, he’s still able to get you weak in the knees. “See you soon.”

You end the call and rush to bundle up for the snow starting to come down outside. A twenty-minute train ride later, you’re at the front door of a rustic, industrial apartment complex. After informing Jaemin you’re outside, you glance up at the snowflakes falling from the dark pink-grey sky, anticipating for what comes next.

Sex with a hot guy, what can go wrong?  

So, you must’ve jinxed it because the sex is...  

Unsatisfying. Finished faster than you’d like it to be. Sadly, overall disappointing. If you had to rate it, three out of five stars, at best.

But hey, he came, and you sort of did, and it wasn’t the worst sex you’ve ever had. It half-quenched your dry spell.

And enough happened that it tired you out, leaving you passed out in the handsome stranger’s bed until morning.

In the morning, your eyes slowly flicker, unused to the foreign, sweet scent engulfing you in your bed. Correction: Jaemin’s bed.

Your eyes flicker faster as you glance through the almost wall-sized window. The snow hasn’t let up from last night. On the contrary, it seems like it’s snowing non-stop. You groan at the thought of going home in this weather.

The bed is without Jaemin’s presence as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. 10:36AM and a few notifications greet you. You rub your eyes and start combing through them, rising upward to sit up on the bed.

“Morning. You’re finally up.”

Peering up from your device, Jaemin’s standing by the door with folded arms. His plain sweater and sweatpants match the colour of his hair. The dazzling smile he gives is so contagious, you’re not even conscious of catching one too.  

“Out you go.”

You blink.

Once, twice, and then you tilt your head as you stare blankly at him, uncertain if you heard him correctly.

After a few moments, because you’re not moving an inch, his smile dissipates and he cocks an eyebrow in expectancy. A serious expression rolls over his face.  

Suddenly, Jaemin strolls to the side of the bed and hitches his thumb towards the door.

You definitely heard him right.

And he’s dead-serious.

You replay the video call from last night, dissecting how you thought he was nice and funny and—

Realization dawns on you.

Why would you expect anything more from a two-faced fuck boy?

Still awestruck by the situation, you’re still solid as a statue, so Jaemin takes matters into his own hands and grasps you by your elbow, casually dragging you from his bed like he’s taking out the trash.  

“What the fuck?!” you screech.

“C’mon, let’s go. Out out.”

“My clothes, though!” you protest in the middle of the hallway. He sighs in frustration, scurries to the bedroom, and returns with a small pile in his arms, then continues to drag you to the front door.  

“Are you always this pleasant with your guests the morning after?” you rage, putting on the rest of your clothes by the door. “You don’t even have the decency to offer me tea or coffee?”

“This was a one-night stand, not a bed and breakfast, sunshine,” he says as he watches you put your shoes on. He’s folding his arms again and leaning against the wall, his attitude dripping with smug. If he wasn’t a stranger, you’d punch it off his face. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were new to this, huh?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means you’re a borderline virgin who needs to toodle-loo, get going and gone because you’re overstaying your welcome as we speak.”

Finishing putting on your coat, you’re fuming as your jaw hangs at the personal jab over your skills in bed. Jaemin swings the door open and shoves you through it.

“But I’ll admit, it was still nice having sex with you!” he chimes with a sickening grin and a hand on the door.  

“Aw, thanks asshole, wish I could say the same,” you sarcastically reply, resting a palm upon your chest.  

He scoffs. “From what I heard last night, I think I can confidently say that you had a great time.”

Flashbacks replay in your mind of your screaming fest from underneath him. Little did Jaemin actually know—

“You know, for someone who I assume has many one-night stands,” you spit with squinted eyes. “I’m surprised you can’t tell when girls fake it.”

You must’ve hit a sore spot because he grinds his teeth and you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

Oh yeah, you’re definitely the winner in this fight.

“Okay, you know what, Merry Christmas and fuck you. Have a great life!”

“Fuck you, dickface. Wishing you a miserable Christmas!”

With a bitter smile, you flip him off as he slams the door in your face.

Carrying a basket filled with dirty clothes, Jaemin’s on the way down to the laundry room in the basement of his apartment with his shoulder scrunched up, squeezing his phone to his ear.

“Bro, she had the audacity to say that I didn’t make her come when she was screaming my God damn ear off—”

As he steps down the short flight of stairs and passes by the foyer area by the main entrance to the building, he notices you’re still here.

“Shit, uh, Jeno,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”

He stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweats and calls out to you as he strides closer. “Are you resorting to stalking me by my front door now?”

With crossed arms, you peer over your shoulder, eyes full of bitterness.

“Like I wanna be anywhere near you right now,” you grumble. You jerk your head towards the thick, wooden door. “It’s jammed from the snow.”

The laundry carrier shakes his head and places the basket onto the floor. “A little snow never hurt anyone. You’re probably just too weak.”

Stepping aside and holding out an arm, you signal for him to give it a try.

Jaemin twists the handle and, lo and behold, it doesn’t open. His forehead crinkles as he tries again and again, using more force each time.

Glancing through one of the partially frosted windows adjacent to the sides of the door, he notices the snow has piled enormously high, almost to the height of his chest.

“Well, shit.”  

Reluctantly, Jaemin brings you back to his apartment. You’re technically his guest and if he left you in the foyer to freeze, trouble would surely come his way, whether it be in the form of his landlords (also known as his roommate’s parents) or the police.

Without a word, he settles a spoon in a bowl, a carton of milk, and a box of cereal onto the small kitchen table.

At first, you stare at it venomously in rejection, thinking you can easily last a day without any hand-outs from this son of a bitch, but your stomach roars ferociously three seconds later.

As you chew across from him, you enjoy the company of your phone over him, while he does the same but with a cup of coffee in hand.

After finishing your food, you adamantly place your phone down and lean back into the chair, boring holes into his head.

“Why are you such an asshole?” you seethe observantly.

“Why are you such a bitch?” he retorts, not pulling his gaze away from his phone.

“Because you started it,” you say slowly, stating the obvious.

“No, you.”

You sigh defeatedly at his childish behaviour. The weather apps predict the snow will (hopefully) die down by tomorrow morning, thus you’re officially stuck with him for the next twenty-four hours or so. Your hands rake through your hair.

“Whether we like it or not, the snow isn’t going away until tomorrow. Merry Christmas Eve to us, I guess.”

He’s still glued to his phone. You exhale another sigh.

“Since we’re not getting out of this until then, can we just...” You soften your voice. “Start over?”

His eyes are still on the screen, but from the way his shoulders tense and how he stops scrolling, you know he’s considering your proposition.

“At least call a stalemate over this.” You drift your hand in the air, gesturing between you and him.

Blowing out air and shaking his head, he rests his phone onto the table.

“Fine.”

He crosses his arms, imitating you, and the two of you sit there, staring at each other in a long silence.  

One minute, to be exact.

You’re the one to break the silence game by running your hands over your face, letting out a hybrid of a groan and laugh.

“God, the fact that we had sex makes this kinda awkward, huh?”

Jaemin’s exterior melts slightly, letting out a snicker. He shrugs, “Then let’s just pretend that we didn’t have sex.”

“We can’t just pretend that we didn’t have sex,” you say, holding two upturned palms near your face.

“We did it, it’s done. I’ve seen your penis, you kicked me out, and you labelled me a prude—” You dart a finger towards him. “—which I am far from, by the way. All of those are pretty huge things.”

One of the corners of his mouth raises high. “Are you saying my penis is huge?”

“No, the implication of said penis is huge. Wipe that smirk off your face.”

He stretches an arm, holding an imaginary microphone to your face. “Do you deny that my penis is huge?”

Rolling your eyes, you swat his fist away. “What am I, on trial here?”

“Do you plead the fifth then?”

Annoyed, you roll your eyes again. Why do you get the feeling that you’re probably going to be doing this a lot more today? Another feeling tells you that if you don’t answer his question, he’ll probably pester you until you do.

You tilt your head side to side. “It’s... decently sized.”

“Bigger or smaller than average?”

“Perfect...” His eyes light up. “...ly average.” And a frown rolls over.

He squints his eyes accusingly at your sneer. “Are you lying like you did before about faking it?”

You scoff. “I wasn’t lying about faking it, and I’m not lying now about your average sized dick.”

Jaemin releases a disgruntled grumble and lifts his cup to his face. You notice he likes to take his coffee black and bitter, presumably like his heart.

“So, Miss I’m-Not-A-Prude-and-I’ve-Definitely-Had-Sex-Before.” His eyebrows perk up on the word definitely. “What’s your story? Why the last minute one-night stand?”

Shrugging your shoulders to your ears, you reply, “Haven’t had sex in a while.”

“When’s the last time you had sex?” he asks mid-sip.

“Half a year ago,” you respond nonchalantly, perching your chin into your palms.

Jaemin immediately chokes, almost spraying the coffee through his nose.

“Half a year?!” he gasps. It takes him a few hits to his chest to dispel the coughing. “Six months?!”

“Wow, you can count!” you exclaim in a condescending tone. You change the position of your hands so that your chin is now atop of the back of your curled fingers and tilt your head. “Can you also spell?”

“As a premed student, I can assure you that I am capable of doing both,” he says with a slight strain due to the coughing fit. The humble brag brings on another eye roll. Of course he’s a premed student with the attitude he wears.

“It’s just—” He clears his throat and swallows the last bit of coffee stuck in his windpipe. “—The last time I had a dry spell was for like, a month, tops.”

So the fuckboy gets laid way more on the daily than you expect. You’re torn between being envious over how much action he gets in comparison to you, or remorseful, since you’re now just one of the many notches on his bedpost.

No matter, sarcasm is always the best defence mechanism.

“Good for you, Jaemin. I’m sure you’re very proud of that.”

There’s an awkward beat. His head hangs for a moment while his thumbs stroke the sides of his cup. A strange pinch of guilt occurs. Did you overstep an unspoken line? But then he drags himself back to reality in a heartbeat.

Jaemin brings the cup to his mouth again, mumbling, “At least the sex on your part makes more sense now; you’re rusty as fuck.”

Completely aware of what he said, you trash your guilt entirely and narrow your eyes. “What did you just say?”

Following a long sip, he hums, “Mmm, nothing.” Soon after, he stands up with his cup.

“I’m gonna go game now. Feel free to watch Netflix on the TV and stay in the living room.”

As if you had anywhere else to go...  

He begins to walk towards his room as you mutter under your breath, “I’m not a dog.”

“Says the bitch,” he pipes up, taking you by surprise.  

“Thought we had a stalemate?!” you shout, leaning your head forward as you watch him entering his room.  

“Doesn’t mean we’re on peaceful terms!” he sing-shouts.

The flinging of the closed door echoes throughout the apartment.

Regret surges through you. You just had to choose a fuckboy fluent in assholery and end up incidentally being isolated with him during a snow storm on Christmas Eve.

You wonder if you can handle being around him for the next twenty-four hours without killing him first.

During the afternoon, you’re on the living room couch, playing a show as mostly background noise while you’re on your phone. At one point, your phone unsurprisingly begins to die and you tread over to Jaemin’s door to ask for a charger and if you can also take a shower. He’s still annoyed by your existence, but at least he hands you a charger and lets you know where the extra towels are.

Stepping into the living room with the towel in your hand as you dry your hair off, you peer out the large living room window and see nothing but white engulfing the streets and buildings as far as the eye can see.

You pray the snow will eventually stop as soon as possible so you can head back home.

By the middle of the afternoon, Jaemin emerges from his bedroom and shocks you by plopping down on the opposite end of the living room couch from where you’re sitting.

“Bored?” you ask, eyes fixated on the TV screen.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p as he says it. His slings his arm around the top of the couch.

“Gotta keep an eye on you in case you do something.” Turning away from the screen, he faces you and motions circles with his hand. “You’ve got a little crazy in you, I can feel it.”

You quickly glance over at him, but try to refocus on the TV. “Need I remind you that you’re the crazy one, dragging me out of the apartment right as I woke up.”

That compels him to turn his whole body towards you. “Well, you’re the one who wanted a last-minute one-night stand.”

You match his stance. “As if I’m the first girl in your bed to stay in the morning?”

“Actually, yeah.” He aggressively tilts his head to one side. “Most girls leave before I even get up. The other percentage don’t fight me when I ask for them to go, so it looks like you’re the odd one out.”  

You press your lips together, refusing to admit that maybe he has a point, under the assumption that he’s telling the truth.

Jaemin twists his body back to the screen and adds, “I make it very clear on my profile that I don’t do morning afters, sweetheart.”

And you agree that his profile is clear about his intentions, but that doesn’t mean you can condone his shitty behaviour.

“Well, sorry that I expected just an ounce of respect instead of getting kicked to the curb after you stuck your dick in me,” you grumble, shifting back to the show and crossing your arms.

“Morning afters lead to attachments, and attachments lead to feelings, and feelings lead to relationships,” he says the string of words clinically, as if it’s a mantra that he lives by.

Your eyebrows knit together as you whip your head towards him once more, studying him.

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

Deliberately averting your gaze, Jaemin grates his tongue between his teeth, a slight tsk audibly heard, and his chin juts out. There’s definitely a story behind his ways. He huffs and changes the subject.  

“Seriously?” He holds a hand out. “You’re watching this trashy show?”

Squinting your eyes at him, you could probably interrogate him further, but you decide otherwise.  

“It may be trashy,” you concur, looking at the TV. “But it’s my trashy comfort show.”

Following an over-the-top acted out scene between the show’s main love interests, Jaemin shoots up from the couch.

“Yeah, no, I can’t handle this. Can we either put on something else or game or something?”

“Why don’t you go back to your room to game, Mr. I’m-Not-Bored?”

“Like I said, I gotta keep an eye on you,” he says while bending over in front of the TV, already setting up the Playstation. He tosses you a controller as he strides to his side of the couch again.

He mumbles to himself, “Need to make sure you don’t go crazy from the lack of human interaction.”

Either Jaemin is selfish and only looking out for himself, or he wants to make sure you’re not feeling lonely in a stranger’s home.

Likely the first reason, you deduce—because why would a guy like Jaemin care about a mere one-night stand?

Admittedly, you’re not the best at games, especially at fighting ones. You can comprehend the move lists, but you like to live by button smashing the controller and repeating moves over and over.  

So it’s hilarious when you beat Jaemin every round with your surprisingly fruitful technique.

“Okay, this is bullshit,” Jaemin complains, sticking his tongue out in irritation. His ass is currently being handed to him on a plate again since you’re almost done killing his character off. “You must be lying to me; you have to be a pro player or some shit.”

Jaemin’s health bar is dangerously low as your character jabs his with a sword. He winces out loud and you snicker.

“Why do you think I always lie about everything?! Dude, you have serious trust issues,” you joke before you steal the opportunity to slice his character. One more hit and he’s done for.

“I do not! I just—nooo!”

You rise to your feet and pump your arms in the air, turning in circles in joy over yet another win.

Sulking, Jaemin eyes your little dance from his end on the couch, but as he watches you more, a feeling balloons in his chest. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Finally coming down from your post-win high, you spot an emerging grin from the corner of your eye, making you pause.    

“What?” you eye him suspiciously.

Your suspicion pops the sensation in his chest and, like a fish out of water, his eyes widen and his grin melts away.

“Nothing, uhm.” He ruffles his eyebrows and palms the back of his neck, quickly facing the TV. “Let’s go one more round and then we can switch to another game—”

Suddenly, the TV and surrounding lights switch off. Both of you waver your eyes, anticipating for them to come back on, but they unfortunately don’t.  

Jaemin rushes over to the window. When he swivels his head towards you, his face darkens.

“Looks like it’s at least the whole block. The streetlights are out too.”

Without another word, he dashes to the linen closet and brings back several blankets. He calmly explains that there won’t be heat since it’s connected to the electricity, so it’d be best to keep warm with the extra layers.

Not wanting to scare you, he doesn’t add the fact that due to the huge windows in the apartment, more unnecessary cold air will come in, but you’re already cognizant of it from your own logic and since the remaining heat dissolves rapidly.

You groan and retreat into the massive blanket over your shoulders, turtling your head.

You can’t believe you’re going to fucking die in this asshole’s apartment on Christmas Eve.

On the ends of the couch in your makeshift blanket jackets, both of you attend to your phones for a while.

From what people and the news outlets are saying, it’s not just the block, but the whole city grid is out. You frantically text your friends, giving updates on how you are and half-jokingly telling them that you’re going to die with your dreadful one-night stand. Some time passes and Jaemin tosses his phone  off to one side.  

“Well, since there’s nothing else to do and we should probably conserve our phone batteries—” You glance up at him from your phone and pout. Slowly nodding in agreement, you toss it aside too. “—why don’t we play a game of ‘I’ll-Give-You-Pointers-on-How-to-be-Better-in-Bed’?”

A smile burgeons on his irritatingly handsome face and your eyes roll. At this point, you wonder if the reaction is conditioned into you. “It’ll be my early Christmas gift to you.”

“Wow, so thoughtful, how could I ever thank you?” You drag the blanket closer to your chest in false gratitude.

You think for a serious moment if you really want to go through with this. Hearing Jaemin run his mouth on you unwarranted is already painful, but to give him the go-ahead to do so? Especially criticizing your skills in bed?  

You blow out a sigh, noting the slightly visible cloud. You’re grateful Jaemin has thick, downy blankets.  

Well, if you’re going to die, may as well know what went wrong, right?

“Fine, but if we’re playing this game, we have to say everything honestly and take the criticism we get.” You point a stern finger. “No rebuttals, just acceptance.”

“Wait.” Jaemin crinkles his face in genuine confusion as his hand peeks out from his blanket.

“You have things to criticize about me in bed?”

Your lips tremble before you burst into laughter. Displeasure is on Jaemin’s tight-lipped face as you laugh for a while, almost keeling over in your blanket ball onto the hardwood floor. “How conceited are you, oh, my fucking God?”

He slices his hand through the air. “I’ve never had any complaints—”

“Because you’re too busy focusing on your own orgasm, you selfish dickwad,” you say as your laughter dies down.  

He sits in his snit for a few more moments until he gets over it.

“Fine, fine,” he huffs. Jaemin knows he’s not going to enjoy this, but he’s the one who suggested it. He can’t back out now. “Let’s just get this over with, you go first.”

With your blanket held by your chest, you hop off your end of the couch and shuffle over in front of him where he’s seated. Beaming, you begin.

“Let’s start with foreplay.” Jaemin’s eyes light up with confidence, thinking he’s at least decent with that. You crush his expression as your lips purse and you shake your head.

“Non-existent.”

“What do you mean?! I kissed you as you took off your clothes.”

You stick your free hand out from your blanket, extending your index finger.

“One: you only kissed my lips. You know, there are other parts of me to kiss, like, I don’t know, my neck, my arms, my shoulders.”

You extend another finger. “And, two: it’s weird to not help someone take off their clothes. Like you’re in a super rush to get somewhere or something—”

“We’re fucking!” he cuts in sharply. “This is a one-night stand, not a relationship.”

Closing your eyes and dropping your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh in exaggeration.

“Thought we agreed no rebuttals...” you softly sing-say.  

Jaemin’s head sinks a little into his blanket. “Sorry.”

Removing your hand, you shrug. “Maybe there’s some rule that I don’t know about one-night stands, so this could be on me.”

You start to aimlessly tread back and forth in front of him, dragging the blanket along too. “But fuck, foreplay is foreplay for a reason. You work your way up to the heat of the moment and it makes sex much better, regardless if you’re in a relationship with the person or not.”

“Next point.” You stop walking and direct your focus on him. Pointing your finger and looking him dead in the eye, you ask, “Do you know what a vagina is?”

He snorts with a simper. “Uhhh, is this a rhetorical question?”

“No, I’m legit asking,” you say with a raised eyebrow and snarky smile. “Because when you went down on me, all you flicked your tongue at was the outside of it, also called the labia if you didn’t know.”

“I’m premed, of course I—”

“Which is great! But you didn’t go any deeper nor did you go near my clit.”

You thrust your finger again. “Do you also know what that is?”

“Yes...” he groans with the flickering eyelids.

You swipe your arm through the air. “Maybe make use of it, and not only when you go down on girls. Even during sex, touching it is great.”

“And lastly,” you continue. “I’ll be honest here, you have a decent dick.”

Jaemin waggles his finger. “So you were lying before—”

“I wasn’t lying,” you retort firmly. “But anyways, you’ve got the stuff, but why don’t you put it to better use?”

With the following words, you attempt to gesture with your body and execute moves as graphic visuals. Jaemin giggles at the sight.

“Vary the speeds and the angle, don’t just slam it in me and go crazy fast from the get-go. Build up to the climax. Jesus, I couldn’t even get close to coming because you’re like a jackhammer from start to finish.”

When you finally finish, Jaemin’s giggles morph into hollow laughs. Frustration is blatant on your face, pondering if he even absorbed a single word you said.  

After he calms down, he asks, “Are you done?”

You mumble, “Yeah, I think so.”

The two of you switch places. He shuffles onto his feet with his blanket while you sit back on the couch.

Jaemin pulls the blanket across the floor as he ambles. “Okay, your head game is decent—”

“Excuse you, my head game is strong.”

“Uh-uh, rebuttal,” he points out.  

You sigh. Pinching your fingers together, you drag the invisible zipper across your mouth, then wave your hand, allowing him to resume.

“Your head game is decent. You definitely can deepthroat, but—” He mirrors you from before and extends his index finger.

“One: this happened only a few times, but your teeth scraped against my dick, which is why I assumed you were a borderline virgin.”

You fume silently at the accusation, attempting to not speak up with a heap of rebuttals. But he wasn’t wrong—if you teethed on his dick, that’s a classic virgin move.

“But that’s okay, because we already established that you’re just rusty.” Jaemin flashes you a fake comforting smile as he continues to pace. You flash him one back.

“And two—” He holds another finger out. “Don’t be scared to use your hands and stroke me. Give my dick some love. If it’s too wet, just wipe your hands on the bed or something.”

“Okay, duly noted,” you hum. “Next.”

“Don’t be scared to touch me.”

“I touched you so much during—”

He shoots you a glare. You roll your mouth inward, your lips disappearing instantly.

“Your hands were mostly on the sheets, which is hot, but guys like to be felt up too.”

The attractive individual peers up for a second, thinking to himself. “Even hotter when a girl feels herself up during the fucking, but that’s beside the point. Baby steps, just remember to touch the other person.”

Jaemin does a full-stop and faces you.

“And just... don’t fake it.” Distress is evident in his pout. You hate to admit it, but it’s a little cute. He raises an arm and jerks it in the air. “Why do girls fake it?”

“Because guys with egos like you can’t handle criticism,” you reply bluntly.  

“What are we doing, having this conversation, hm?”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it didn’t snow in and keep us here together.” You peel a hand away and gesture to the window. “If I walked out of here this morning, you would’ve just fucked the next girl the same.”

He defends himself, “Faking it just feeds our egos.”

“Yeah, well, if I told you afterwards that I didn’t come, what would you do?”

“Try to make you come in other ways?”

Shaking your head, you scoff. “Guys like you aren’t that considerate.”

“You’re right.” He assents, holding his pointer finger against his chest. “Because guys like me aim to please.”

A brilliant thought leaps in his mind and Jaemin gasps. You can only assume bad things from the wicked smile he sends your way.  

“Why don’t we try it again?”

Perplexed, you squint at him.

“Try what again...?”

“Sex,” he says enthusiastically.

You blankly stare at him.

“You’ve gotta be joking,” you deadpan.

“I mean, there’s nothing else to do and it’ll keep us warm.” 

You continue to stare at him until you groan.

“Oh, my God...” Your blanket droops a bit off your shoulders as you drag your palms across your face. “I cannot believe I’m stuck in this snowstorm with you out of all people...”

Sitting next to you, Jaemin persistently reasons with you. “Think of it also as another learning experience for the future partners we’ll have.”

“Yeah, if we don’t die first!” you shriek.

“We’re not going to die,” Jaemin replies in a mocking tone and a dart of his tongue.  

Outside the window, the snow seems to have slowed down, but not by much.  

God, Jaemin better be fucking right because you want to live to see another day.  

“Fine,” you mutter and match his gaze. “But we have to be vocal throughout the whole thing. Say whatever’s on our mind.”

“Fine,” he agrees to your terms. He produces the same wicked smile again. “But can we film it then? So we can study it after?”

You fire him a death glare that melts his face off, even in the frigid atmosphere.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he says, waving his hand.

They say that jokes are half-meant true, but you think Jaemin fully meant it. Still in your blanket jackets, Jaemin snags your free hand and leads you to his room.

“You gotta give me credit for trying, though.”

“No.” You shake your head with an unwilling smile creeping on the edge of your lips. On second thought, maybe the joke was a little funny, but you still stand by your opinion that he’s the most annoying person in the world. “I don’t think I will.”

“Thank God Chenle has so many scented candles...”

On the edge of Jaemin’s bed, huddled by the blanket, you watch him light up several large jars, placing them on his nightstand and desk in hopes to brighten the room. It’s already late afternoon, but one could mistaken it for nighttime with the muddy sky due to the snow.

“Is Chenle your roommate?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers with a slight shiver, igniting the last candle near the bedside. He removed his blanket when he went to nab the matches and candles. “His girlfriend gets free ones from work, so she always gives him a shit ton, even though he never uses them.”

With a glowing hue against his face, he blows out the match. He makes his way to you, a cocky grin plastered on him, as he says, “Guess we’re making use of them now, though.”

Before you can even respond, Jaemin gets right down to business—sitting beside you on the mattress, he palms your face and drags you in for a kiss. You softly yelp, but immediately reciprocate.

The cover falls off your body as you reach to touch him, fingers drifting over his solid arms.

You don’t want to stroke his large ego, and maybe it’s because you haven’t had anyone else on you in a while, but Jaemin’s kisses are something else.

The cushiony pair of lips always executes enough pressure against your mouth, increasing and decreasing on command in perfect tandem and timing. His hands hover over your waist and the nape of your neck, fingers sinking into your hot skin.  

His mouth trails downward the side of your neck. You crane your head back, indulging in his caresses as soft moans trickle out.

He gently signals for you to recline back and lay onto the mattress, moving the sea of blankets aside. Inclined on his elbow, almost atop of you, his cool fingers glide under your top layers, his thumb stroking against your stomach.

Pulling away from your body, he tugs on the ends of your clothes. You rise from the bed to better the angle for him to discard of them.

The hairs on your skin are standing on end from the frigid air, but you’re too focused on Jaemin’s mouth migrating over your upper arm and your bra-covered chest to care. Without notice, he stuffs a cup of the bra to one side and takes your bosom into his mouth.

Air’s seized from your lungs and your core contracts from the pleasure. Your fingers tug on Jaemin’s luscious locks and his free hand squeezes your unoccupied breast.    

After a few twirls of his tongue and a gentle drawing of his teeth on the pointed tip, he mumbles hotly into your chest while he thumbs your other nipple, “Foreplay still non-existent?”

“It’s better, I guess,” you sigh with fluttering eyes. His chuckling reverberates against your cleavage, a sign of amusement from your obstinacy. A gasp pierces the room as Jaemin repeats his actions onto the other breast.

He aids you in taking off the rest of your clothes and, obviously aware of your goosebumps and shuddering, tells you to get underneath the blankets while he strips himself.

Under the toasty ocean of layers, despite how both of you are bare-boned and how easy it is to jump into the main act, Jaemin purposefully continues to prolong the foreplay. Side by side, your lips meld endlessly; your legs and hands are intertwined in an amorous pretzel.

Jaemin ensures he doesn’t leave any part of you untouched—the pads of fingers virtually graze over every inch of your body. Each grip and drag of his digits sends you in a frenzy. Your chest is pressed into him and your eyes are blinded with desire.

In the back of your mind, you think about how you were right about foreplay working up to the heat of the moment—literally, because you’re dripping, he’s hard, and you two have embraced so much that you don’t need the blankets anymore.  

On the other hand, you wonder if Jaemin was right about skipping foreplay, because with every whisper of each other’s name, the intimacy rises immensely. You don’t know him, and neither him with you, but you’re both freely drowning in one another in a plane beyond the lust.

Although the room’s beginning to smell of a mix of all the scented candles, Jaemin hones in and drinks in your sweet aroma and your entirety behind his hazy eyes and already tousled hair. All of a sudden, one drag of his fingers over a particular sensitive spot on your body makes you giggle.

“I’m ticklish over there.”

“You mean right—” He drums his fingers over the area again. “—here?”

With a toothy grin, he generates more suffering from you and you begin to lively howl. Soon enough, you beg him to stop.

“You’re such an asshat, c’mon, let me live!”

When he ceases, his head hangs over yours and your gazes connect.

The same feeling blooms in his chest from before in the living room.

He gulps as his eyes waver over your face, unknowingly tracing your beautiful features and etching them into his memory.

Your starry eyes. Your glowing aura. Your everything.

You barely register the change in his expression because he quickly tramples on his moment of weakness by kissing you passionately.

Jaemin whips the blankets aside as he lowers himself between your legs. Your eyes are fixated on him, matching his stare, until he starts to devour you by swiping against your lustrous folds. Your back bows, and, following a few more licks, Jaemin makes a point of his knowledge of the vagina by spreading your lips and ravishing your pussy, tongue penetrating deeply.

Rippled moans release in harmony with your undulating chest. You swear you’re getting more wet, too wet, likely making it overwhelming for Jaemin, but he’s eagerly lapping every drop up.  

“How’s that?” he inquires with a grin, hovering over your trembling nether lips. His mouth is evidently glossy, even under the dim lighting.

“Good,” you pant in the most nonchalant tone you can muster up. “Very good-ahhh—”

Jaemin kindly interrupts you by tonguing your clit as he fingers your sex deeply, shattering your fake indifference.

“Move your tongue up more,” you direct, creasing your eyebrows in despair. He follows your direction, and droning moans ensue.

Jaemin’s immersed in your pleasure, but also adding to his own. The more he laps up your wetness, the more he grinds his length against the bed, aching to be inside of you.

Your desire pulses faster, contracting tighter against his fingers, body winding tensely by the second.

“Fuck, Jaemin,” you whine, leaning your head to one side with a parted mouth. “I’m close.”

He draws back and temporarily replaces his tongue with his thumb.

“Good,” he pants, cocking his head to one side. His eyes are filled with determination. “Because I’m not stopping until you come at least two more times tonight.”

You exhale a light laugh. “That’s ambiti-ohgodohgod—”

His tongue works wonders on your clit once more, so much that he has to brace your bucking hips.

Okay, maybe Jaemin did learn a thing or two and actually listened to what you said during your critique.

But now it’s time to demonstrate to him what you’ve learned.

You don’t need much of a break to catch your breath, nor do you want to immediately freeze due to inactivity, so you pull Jaemin in for an intense kiss, tongue dipping into the remnants of your own nectar, then beckon for him to take your former place on the bed.

Perched on the bottom of your feet, you’re on one side of Jaemin, lackadaisically fisting his prominence. After a few strokes, you gradually swallow his inches, keeping in mind to relax your jaw and to not rush in order to avoid any potential teething. You do this to prove yourself worthy of giving head, but also in spite, because you absolutely do not need Jaemin to brand you a virgin again.  

You read his quiet groans and his long fingers running lazily through your hair as a positive sign and advance further.

Carefully, you rest your tongue beneath the underside of his cock and bob your head, licking him until he’s sopping with your saliva. His grip in your hair grows in strength as his length reaches the end of your throat, his groans becoming more and more drawn-out.

A needy whimper leaves him as you suddenly withdraw. Dribbles of your spit follow, and you wipe it off with the back of your hand.  

“How am I doing?” you glow in a pant, lazily stroking the doused shaft.

He simply nods with half-lidded eyes, barely able to look at you. “Yeah.”

You snicker at him in his breathless position, a prickle of pride running through your spine over the fact that you blew his mind as much as you blew his dick.

“Use your words, Jaemin.”

Teasingly, your fingers curl around his blunt head, soothing the sensitive tip and sending jolts throughout him.

“Fuck—” he pulls his bottom lip upward. “Awesome. You’re doing awesome.”

“Anything to critique?”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head restlessly. You revel a bit more in having the upper hand on him a little while longer. You grip him tighter and hasten your speed, leaving him gasping for air.

“Am I still rusty?”

“Nope, nope,” he croaks, voice rising to a whine. “Definitely not rusty.”

“You sure?” His cockiness has transferred over to you.

“Yes, yes—fuck, slow down, please,” Jaemin begs.    

Granting his wish, you abate your rhythm and free his inches from your touch.

You wipe your hands on the sides of the bed while Jaemin rummages through the drawer of his nightstand and hastily rolls over the rubber over himself before he prepares to enter the body beneath his.  

Recalling your advice, Jaemin mindfully starts off slow. You sigh blissfully in sync to his thrusts. He adjust himself, attempting another angle, and you draw in air between your teeth.

“There, there—“

Jaemin’s quick-witted and keeps at it, plunging a bit more vigorously. Out of habit, your hands grasp onto the bedsheets, but you wittingly attach them to his frame. Hands grazing his neck, his firm pecs, and his taut muscles.  

“Touch-touch my stomach,” he orders in a hush.

You hands follow through and feel up the flexed valley of his abs. Feeling up evolves into desperate gripping and even the slight dragging of your nails.

“Your abs are so fucking hot,” you state thoughtlessly, eyes eating up the view alongside his cock disappearing in and out of you. “Jesus, fuck.”

“Yeah?” he rasps with that devilish smirk of his. God, you want to smack it off him, but not right now—not when you’re reaching euphoria. “You’re not just saying that?”

Oh, you’ve definitely stroked his ego now, but there’s no turning back. Truth spills from you on a whim.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” you gasp acutely.

You’re starting to wither away, yet, as if they have a life of their own, your hands drift away from him and find a new home atop your breasts.

“You make me feel so good, Jaemin...”

Jaemin’s eyes go wide. His mouth hangs at the lewdness of you touching yourself.

“Fuck, holy shit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave your ecstatic face or humming body for a second as you knead your breasts and tweak your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches further when Jaemin deepens his sweet, fulfilling thrusts. He’s holding himself back, not wanting to end this beautiful deed just yet.

The stimulation bursts over your body, both from your own doing and Jaemin’s.  

You plead, “Faster, please, faster.”

And he complies, but he also rubs your bundle of nerves, causing a tight knot in you to build up and your shallow moans transform into heavy screams. You clasp onto his back and claw at the protruding shoulder blades.  

“I’m-I’m—”

You clench, both with your core and your nails digging into him, but Jaemin’s unrelenting, capturing your second peak for the evening.

Instead of coming after you, he shockingly veers lower and closer to you and curbs his pace.

“Was that real?”

You respond with an exhausted nod. Oddly, the smile he shows this time isn’t arrogant, but warm and teetering the line of tenderness. His lips fuse with yours before they stray towards your neck. The passion stews as he sucks your tits, all the while lunging laxly into you.  

With an obscene pop!, Jaemin removes himself from your nubs.

“Ready for the last round?”

His fast thrusts, hitting you precisely in the best spot, cloud your already weakened logic, deterring you from making any response.    

Perspiration is blatant on both individuals. For him, his forehead glistens gorgeously with his damp hair. For you, the back of your bent knees are gluing together. Your bodies are about to pass out, but you both persevere until the end.

As you convulse and perish together in beautiful agony, coincidentally enough, the bulbs in the room and in the streets leap to radiance.

Together, you collapse onto the bed side by side, panting heavily and laughing.

“Told you we weren’t going to die.”

You turn your head to see Jaemin looking at you with a cheeky grin. In retaliation, you stick your tongue out.

By nighttime, it’s finally stopped snowing outside. However, the streets won’t be cleared until morning, at the very least.

But... you’re surprisingly okay with that.

In a turn of events, the sex inexplicably makes the two of you warm up to each other. There still is targeted banter and tension between you, lingering from before, but it’s less hostile and more playful.

During a fancy Christmas Eve dinner of microwavable pizzas, you poke fun at each other’s majors and discuss your respective hobbies in depth, especially his love for photography. Jaemin even asks if he can take a picture of you, claiming that the kitchen lighting actually looks nice on someone for once.  

“Is that how you collect the memory of your one-night stands? Instead of hanging their skins in your closet, you sweet-talk your way and keep all the photos of them?” you joke, referring to the video call from yesterday night. It feels like an eternity ago, but snowstorms tend to do that.

He chuckles behind the camera as he snaps a photo of you scrunching your face cutely.

“Yeah, but you’re the first one who has clothes on,” he says, glancing down at the photo on the camera roll.  

“Ugh, gross,” you cringe and take a sip of tea.

Jaemin doesn’t add anything further. He leaves out the fact that he never keeps any traces of his one-night stands, that you’re the first girl he’s taken a picture of in a while.  

After a few hours of more talking and even some gaming with one another, sleep is much needed. Jaemin offers an extra toothbrush and a sweater and pair of sweats to sleep in. You’re facing each other on his bed, noses almost touching.  

“It’s been a while since I haven’t had sex with a girl before I slept next to them,” he whispers, adjusting himself comfortably. The side of his face rests on his piled hands. “It’s kinda nice.”

You cover your mouth as you yawn, then lay your hand back under your head, reflecting the same position as Jaemin.

“You know, it might be my sleepiness talking, but maybe you’re not the worst person in the world to be stuck with during a snowstorm.”

A lovely chuckle echoes in your ear. “I’m glad you’ve had a change of heart.”

After a few moments, your eyes are fluttering to a close until he softly calls out your name.

“Hm?” you stir awake, but not by much.

“Do you...?”

Jaemin doesn’t know what’s gotten to him, doesn’t quite understand why the defences he built for so long are crumbling down in only a day of knowing you.  

And yet, something urges him to give it a chance.

Blowing out a shaky sigh, he anxiously intertwines his fingers with yours. You hum softly at the action and a small smile blooms on your face.

“Do you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Hm?” His question doesn’t take you aback as much as you would be if you were fully awake. But even in your drowsy state, you have quips in hand. “Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, wants to go on a date?”

“Yeah,” he replies gently, brushing your loose hair out of your face.

Another yawn. “I thought you said you don’t want feelings and relationships and all that shit.”

His fingers trace your pretty jawline and shrugs. “One date doesn’t mean we’re going to be in a relationship, I’m sure you know that.”

You pause for a good two seconds, but the two seconds feel like forever for Jaemin.

“Mmm, fine. One date, just one.” You barely hold up your pointer finger. “And only because it’s Christmas tomorrow. ‘Tis the season to be giving...”

Relief washes over Jaemin in the form of a smile. Embracing the blatant feeling in his chest this time, he plants a light kiss on your nose and wishes you sweet dreams, even though you’ve already fallen soundly asleep.  

Sunlight pours over your eyes on Christmas morning.

Déjà vu peculiarly creeps up on you, but the only thing that’s the same as yesterday is waking up in Jaemin’s bed.

He’s next to you this time, deep in his peaceful slumber, instead of waiting for you to leave by his doorframe. The snow has finally stopped, and you think you hear the faint noises of snow plows outside. You inhale deeply and also notice the faded aroma from all the scented candles from last night.

The scenes of yesterday flicker across your mind. The incredible sex. The talking. The dinner. The interlocking of his fingers with yours.

The date he asked you out on.

You stare at him, watching him sleep with a sense of content.

Turning your body, you routinely check your phone, which is charging beside his. You have a slew of Merry Christmas texts from several chats and a few private messages from your friends.

Your attention falls on Jaemin’s phone when it lights up with a notification, likely texts from his friends and family too.

But that’s not what you’re focusing on.

Your heart sinks at the sight of his lockscreen.

It’s a picture of him and a girl kissing.

A twinge emerges in your chest and twists harder and harder.

Jaemin being a fuckboy, you can respect. People can do whatever they want with their lives.

But to cheat?

That’s unforgivable, and a true sin if there ever was one.

You scramble to dash out of there, careful not to make any noises in fear of waking Jaemin up. However, Jaemin’s sensitive to the sounds of the front door, so he rouses awake. His eyes flit open, noticing how you’re gone. He then sees his phone blowing up and adds two and two together.

With his phone in hand, Jaemin rushes to get on a coat and stuffs his feet into his boots, not giving a shit that he’s wearing his thin pajamas in the coldness. He’s bounding down the flight of stairs and onto the bright, white wonderland of the streets.

He swivels his head and catches sight of you almost past down the block, slowly trekking through the thick snow. Jaemin sprints, as much as he can, and hops towards you.  

He yells your name, making others on the street turn, but you don’t. You continue forward without looking back.

“Wait! I can explain!”

You’re trying to gain speed, but cardio isn’t your friend. Thankfully for Jaemin, it’s a close friend for him.

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Jaemin,” you grunt, hearing the rapid crunching of his shoes coming closer. “Get lost.”

“No, listen to me for a second.”

The boyish man grasps you by the arm and turns you around. You throw his arm away from you and he holds his hands in the air, letting you know that he respects your space. He drops his hands and sees that you’re seething, even worse than you were when he kicked you out yesterday.

“How are you going to explain your lockscreen with you kissing your fucking girlfriend?! Hm?”

“Ex,” he pants in clarification. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Your eyebrows mesh together in utter confusion.

“Okay? That doesn’t make me feel any better, knowing that you’re still hung up on your ex.”

Jaemin shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair. You note the large clouds he exhales and how he’s barely wearing any clothes. A tinge of sympathy passes through you, wanting to give him some of your clothes for extra layers, but you smother that quickly in your state of rage.  

“I’m not hung up on her. Remember you asked me yesterday why I don’t want girls to stay the next morning?”

You cock your head impatiently, as if saying, “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t want to attach myself to girls. I can’t. I...”

He lowers his head to one side. Shutting his eyes, a long puff emits from his mouth.

“She cheated on me.”

The snow plows in the distance can’t compare to the pumping of your heart in your ears. All the feelings you felt in the last day, but especially in the last fifteen minutes, jumble together in your head, making you feel uneasy and unsure of what to exactly feel or comprehend of the situation.  

But you do know one thing, despite the fact that you two barely know each other, the pained look on his face is real—that this is the untold story behind his ways.  

Jaemin lifts his head and holds out his phone for emphasis. “The lockscreen serves as a constant reminder that dating and feelings will and can fuck me up.”

Carefully, he steps a little closer to you and slowly cups your face in his shaking hands. You don’t pull away nor is there the same anger from moments before, so he daintily runs his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Until you showed me yesterday that maybe I’m willing to give it all another shot. Risk it all for fuck knows what, but you make it look like it’s worth it.”

He continues his ramble after adjusting some of your hair from the ongoing breeze.

“Sure, it’s Christmas today, but I don’t want you to say yes to going on a date with me just because it is. I want you to say yes because maybe you like spending time with me just as much as I like to spend it with you.”

You’re completely disoriented—your eyes are shifting everywhere but his eyes and your lips are quivering with no words coming out. He sighs understandingly. 

“Look, I know you’re probably having second thoughts and you don’t have to give me an answer right now. Think on it for as much time as you need, but I want you to know that I genuinely like you and I want to go on an actual date with you.”

He peels his hand away from your face and raises it into the air as if taking an oath.

“I, Na Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, will devote to monogamy once again if it means I can date you.”

His hands grab yours, kisses the back of them, and then he presses one kiss onto your icy cheek prior to walking away.

“Merry Christmas,” he says with a sad smile. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Later that evening at your large family’s Christmas party, you take another dreadful gulp of your wine.

It’s the happy holiday season, but why does everyone feel the need to stick their nose in your dating life? Well, really, a lack there of.

“Why are you still single?” Layers of their voices resound the same question in your head. You take another swig.

Potential unsaid answers that you kept to yourself fly around as you swish the drink in your glass.  

Because you choose to be.

Okay, not really, but it’s the easiest answer.  

Because you haven’t found the right guy to get you back in the game.

What does that even mean? What makes the right guy even right?

The right guy? It’s someone who makes you laugh, someone who gives as good as they can take it, someone who wants you just as much as you do.

The cogs move in your head as you take one more sip before you finally come to the conclusion—  

Because you didn’t find the right guy until last night.

Despite the mess of today and yesterday morning, you realize that Jaemin is... actually sort of sweet. Annoying, yes, but he keeps you on your toes. It’s a plus that he’s easy on the eyes, but it’s a bigger plus that he’s even easier to talk to.

And if he can find it in his scorched heart to trust you, you can find it in your heart to trust him too.  

You quickly say your good-byes to your family and let them know you have other plans with friends tonight.

As the Uber rolls up to his apartment building, you realize you probably should’ve messaged him on Tinder, but it’s worth a shot to see if he’s home. Anyways, impulsiveness is a controlling entity, as evident from your Christmas Eve Eve’s adventure.

And in retrospect, perhaps Jaemin was the perfect pick of the crop after all.  

Someone’s entering the building and lets you in behind them. You take the stairs two at a time and hear booming music coming from his floor. At first, you assume it’s from other apartments, but it’s all coming from one—his.

Without a thought, your knuckle taps the door.  

A handsome figure that’s definitely not Jaemin opens the door. Behind him, you see a group of young men scattered around the living room, and some have a few girls tucked under their arms.

The man eyes you up and down with a spark in his eye. He’s not Jaemin, but he surely reminds you of him.

“And who might you be?” he asks.

“Who’s at the door, Jeno?” An unknown male voice hollers in a high pitch from the couch. He’s one of the guys with a girl attached to him.

You blink. “Uhm, I’m—”

“She’s with me!” Jaemin shoves the flirty stranger aside and tugs you by your wrist, making headway to his bedroom. He flips the light switch on and the door clicks shut.

“What are you doing h—”

You cut him off with a kiss.

An innocent one, at first, with hints of alcohol on each other’s lips. Your arms wrap around the other and the passion increases with the mingling of your tongues, each party tasting and confirming the specific drinks you both consumed tonight.  

Jaemin forces himself to pull away and presses his forehead against yours. “Did you just come all the way here to kiss me, or...?”

“Maybe I came over to ask... if I can stay with you for another night?” you playfully ask, fingers intertwining behind the nape of his neck.  

He chuckles heartily. His fingers sink into the sides of your waist. “Is my dick that great? The sex with me that amazing?”

“Mmm, that’s definitely a benefit,” you agree, fluttering your nose against his. “But I want more than that—“ You poke a finger to his chest. “—I want the man behind the dick.”

Your gazes converge, bringing you together as one.

“I want to go on that date with you. I want you, Jaemin.”

He flashes a megawatt smile that could compete with a million Christmas lights, but it fades suddenly and you’re unsure why he seems like he’s about to bawl his eyes out.

“That’s so beautiful, I might cry.” He brings a finger to his eye, pretending to shed a tear.

Oh, yeah—you’re definitely going to need to hire someone to constantly shove your eyeballs back into your sockets if you’re going to date Jaemin.

“Oh, shut up,” you whisper, yanking him in for another kiss.

Three dates later, including a memorable New Year’s Eve, you finally decide to rid of the Tinder app for good.

With his arm around you on his living room couch, Jaemin glances over your shoulder.

“Really? You’re finally deleting your Tinder?”

You snort in disbelief. “That’s gold, coming from the King of Tinder himself. When did you delete?”

He turns to face the television and shrugs coolly.

“Maybe I didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” you nod, eyes still on your phone.

“Nah, I’m kidding, I did.”    

You sharply turn your head.

“No way. When?” you press with narrow eyes.  

A shy smile emerges on Jaemin’s face as he picks his pants over his thighs.

“On the night of Christmas Eve, after you agreed to go on a date with me.”

[imjeralee]

i believe in kaeya supremacy

headcanon for ur favs and their s/o's first kiss

Oh my gash I enjoyed writing this one so much. thank you for sending and here you go!

(btw I have chosen Kaeya, Zhongli, Diluc and Childe for now)

Kaeya

Omgggggg this man 

Master of smooth-talking seduction and flirting. 

But he has caught feelings for you and isn’t afraid to show it. 

As one of the librarians, you’ve spent the entire day returning books to their proper shelves and outside the sun is setting, casting a warm glow in the room when you hear a very suave voice calling you

Turning round with a few books piled up in your arms, you didn’t even realise he had come in but there he is, leaning against one of the bookshelves with his arms crossed and looking very handsome. He must have returned from a commission, but he doesn’t look exhausted at all. He’s holding a book in his  hand but he isn’t reading it, and he quickly closes it and returns it to the shelf before turning to you

Whilst you’re wondering what he is doing here, he will greet you with a few words and a charming smile before asking you how your day is going

Every time you talk to Kaeya you always feel the air between you changing, it can get very tense 

After the minor small talk, it’s kind of clear he’s here for a reason and he wants something

There’s virtually no-one in the library and it’s quiet and its really the perfect place. He’ll sigh and let you know he had wanted to see you all day but kept missing you, and now that he’s finally caught up to you, well…

He walks up to you and lean forwards, grasping your chin gently and tilting your face up to his level

“Kaeya?” You murmur.

He’ll shush you with a smile. “Do you know how much I’ve wanted this?”

“…Want what?”

“This.”

He gently brushes his lips over yours in a tender and soft kiss that leaves you wanting more when he pulls away. His lips feel very soft and warm and your lips mould together in a perfect fit.

As your heart pounds, he lets go of you and leaves with a smirk on his face

Zhongli

I have this headcanon where you’re his betrothed.

Geo daddy who lives rent free in my head wants to experience a mortal life, and he has to go through a trial like other mortal beings where he will experience mortal love and go through the agony and suffering of losing a loved one 

This is where you come into the picture

You belong to an ancient sect called Emei who are tasked with protecting and taking care of you, dwelling in Mt Aozhang

Due to your status, no mortal is allowed to see you so you’re pretty much cooped up atop the mountain, spending most of the time gazing at the world below

It can get very lonely

Therefore when Mr Zhongli comes to visit you, you’re always so happy to see him and your helpers always ensure you are dressed well and looking your best whenever he arrives

You and Mr Zhongli have met occasionally, standing under the luscious shade of the trees or sitting by the pool to talk and spend time together. You’ve always enjoyed listening to him talking about Liyue’s history and culture. He will always bring you flowers too.

It went from simple chats whilst standing rather far apart, then eventually you were comfortable enough to sit quite closely together and have wine/tea, and finally, you went on walks whilst holding hands

Every time he leaves, you miss him very much

One day when he’s visiting, you think he feels the same because he gazes at you with such longing and you spend more time together than usual 

Before he returns to Liyue, he kisses your hand. He would normally leave after bidding a fond farewell and a ‘until next time’, but he holds your gaze longer and brushes some hair from your face, caressing your cheek before leaning forwards and pressing his lips gently over yours

You’re left blinking wide-eyed but very much looking forward to his next visit

Diluc

If Diluc liked someone, he’s calm and quiet about it 

No-one would even know he had a S/O or someone in mind

Lots of girls like him though he does not return the affection and they scream and cry, wishing he would look at them the way he looks at his falcon

And you actually had your first kiss with him 

It was at night, and you’re the accountant of Dawn Winery so you were working late, going through the invoices with Master Diluc sitting beside you. It was just a normal day at work but you wonder if the rumours were true - that Master Diluc liked you

And you don’t remember falling asleep, but Diluc looks away from his book and glances at your direction when he feels a weight pressing against the side of his arm

And there you are, having fallen asleep on his shoulder with pen in hand and he lets out a gentle sigh, puts down his paperwork

He murmurs your name and gives you a shake but you don’t wake up

It’s getting really late so he lifts you out of the chair and into his arms so he can carry you to the guest room, when your head lolls over and your lips smacks over his mouth 

So yes, accidental kiss haha!

You would think he gets flustered, his cheeks matching the colour of his hair - but Diluc is still calm despite this and carefully peels you off and you flop against his chest, and you wake up.

“Huh? W-What happened? Why am I…?” You mutter groggily, before you realise you’re in his arms and your mouth feels a bit wet; you automatically trace your fingers over your lips. You can taste grape juice. Huh???

“We kissed.” He says bluntly.

Childe

You are an agent of Fatui and you’re sent to look after him on a regular basis which is pretty annoying because that means you’re basically his babysitter

And he’s always up to no good and he likes to purposely wind you up and you usually get into trouble for it but he actually really likes you so you have this kind of love/hate relationship with him

He looks easy-going on the outside but deep inside he’s thirsty for blood and lives for the thrill of da kill, and on this occasion you’re both going to train together and this will totally give you an opportunity to clap his cheeks but he gets super hyped from battle so you will have your first kiss in the most unlikely places

Essentially when you’re sparring together, Childe is fighting as if he wanna kill you and you’re doing your best to either defend or retaliate but oh my Archon, he’s a Harbinger for a reason - and the kiss happens very spontaneously but most likely when he’s swept you off your feet and you’re seeing things upside down but if you’re going down, you’re gonna bring him with you and you manage to hook your leg around his ankle and he goes tumbling

You land on your back with a loud, painful thud 

When you open your eyes, he’s lying on top of you

You’re not used to him being so close and on top of you as well, and it appears neither is he

In fact, he looks a little shocked for a brief moment (an expression you’ve never seen before) but he’s quick to react and he’s smirking. 

Panting heavily, he goes, “Hah...hah...what’s with that look on your face?”

You’re so stunned by this close proximity, you can’t even utter a single syllable and he’s not fooling anyone either with his act

And as you both continue to stare at each other, his grin slowly vanishes and suddenly he’s looking at you with half-lidded eyes before he slides his gaze to your mouth.

Before you can speak, he leans down and kisses you roughly

As quickly as he had kissed you, he is hasty to retreat and you’re left gawking. 

He gets up to stand, his hydro blades vanishing upon his will. He throws a quick glance at you from over his shoulder and tells you practise is over.

As he leaves, he licks his lips and traces his thumb over his bottom lip

[morifinwes]

wangxian fic rec list!

aka in which i read fics, write some recs down for aamna and share them!! they're all wangxian fics and uhh @yibobibo i hope you'll like them!!

modern

wolf devours playboy bunny by @greenteafiend (5K, werewolf!lwj, getting together, idk if anyone needs to know that but there's nudity just not uhh explicit)

Lan Zhan has wanted Wei Ying as long as he has known him, and the worst part is that he thinks Wei Ying could want him back.

Too bad he could never in good conscience let himself go there—Wei Ying has a debilitating fear of all things canine, and once a month, Lan Zhan is the exact, precise thing that Wei Ying’s nightmares are made of.

Aka, Lan Zhan is a werewolf.

between the lines by @jywait (19K gaming au!!!, i'm always down for a good gaming au, lwj is the best aksks he's such a good boy)

☆yilingpatriarch☆: pls...give me some face, help me fight these monsters...I'm gonna die

Bluetooth: no.

"You have died." The screen said, and Wei Wuxian threw his hands up in frustration.

resonant frequencies by chinxe (15K, college au, fake dating au, tw mention of cheating but it's brief and no one was cheated on i promise)

In which Wei Wuxian decides that the best way to deal with being in love with Lan Wangji is to pretend to date him for three weeks.

It goes about as well as can be expected.

drift compatible by windoworwhatever (5K, poetry, fluff, drunkji, getting together, college au)

"It was just a fact of life. The sky was blue, university stipends for graduate students working in TA positions barely covered rent, bisexuals cuffed their jeans, Lan Wangji had a massive crush on Wei Wuxian, and spent his time pining and writing research papers about gay subtexts in ancient poetry."

OR

Lan Wangji is in love with Wei Wuxian, and everybody knows, except Wei Wuxian.

the bunny next door by detailsinthefabric (43K, this is mostly fluff and very light angst, and they were neighbors!!!, rabbits!!, aka wangxian's bunny children, this is... so cute i just have to rec it)

Lan Wangji did not know what he was doing. He did not know what he was going to say. He was frozen in place, puzzling over the situation. Maybe he had made the man uncomfortable, which is why he wanted to leave? But his tone had still been so friendly—maybe…

“Would…” he paused, swallowed, forced the last words to come out of his suddenly parched mouth, “would you let me pet him?”

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

Lan Wangji, who doesn't know how to socialize and whose icy demeanor scares everyone away, lets down all his defenses when he meets the bunny next door...oh, and also its owner, Wei Wuxian.

leading tone by silencemostofall (32K, everyone is a music student? or something like that akskk, curse fic, tw panic attacks, tw child abuse, small scene of drunkji, wwx has low self esteem, bro this was so painful to read)

The first time you touch someone you're fated to love, you leave a mark on their skin. If they will love you in return, they'll mark you where you touched them. The deeper the color, the deeper the connection.

Wei Ying has no marks at all.

public places, private thoughts by leahelisabeth (for the love of camelot) ( 8K, cherry magic au, getting together with like... immediate upgrade to fiance status, the author is wrong i crave good wangxian cherry magic aus even tho i haven't even watched cherry magic)

Wei Wuxian had heard the story of course. It had made its rounds through his high school and followed him into his college days. He didn’t think there was any possibility it was true. Virginity was a social construct, invented by creepy old men to exercise dominance over women. The idea that a simple lack of sexual activity before the age of thirty could give one magical powers was absolutely ludicrous.

Wei Wuxian believed this until the morning of his thirtieth birthday.

AKA the Wangxian Cherry Magic AU that absolutely nobody asked for.

i'd be all right (if i could see you) by @thirtysixsavefiles (16K, this was nice, i read this at 6am but it was cute, (while writing this post i must admit i don't remember anything but 6am-me said it's good))

The younger Lan brother is something of an enigma on campus; while Lan Xichen can sometimes be seen in the company of other graduate students or conducting a seminar, Lan Wangji appears to spend all his time in class or in the library. He doesn’t drink. He doesn’t smoke. He doesn’t attend social events. He doesn’t do anything for fun, as far as Wei Wuxian can tell, and it’s driving Wei Wuxian just a little bit up the wall.

Or, Wei Wuxian convinces Lan Wangji to come to a house party, and then they're assigned to the same group project. Wei Wuxian tries his best, but he is not in possession of all the facts.

axe on leg by itszero (4K, i still don't get why wwx did that but it was nice seeing him jealous for once, jealous!wwx, lwj i love you....)

Wei Wuxian pressed his face into his pillow and screamed. He paused to take a few deep breaths, partially hindered by the pillow, and listened to the sounds of Nie Huaisang slurping his iced coffee, from his seat on Wei Wuxian's desk chair.

Having caught his breath, he resumed his screaming and did not stop at the sound of his dorm room door opening.

"What's wrong with him?" He heard his brother, Jiang Cheng, ask.

The slurping stopped. "He's an idiot."

"He's always been an idiot. Why is he bothered about it now?"

"He forced Lan Wangji to go on a date," Nie Huaisang replied, shaking the ice cubes in his drink.

"Okay and…?"

"With someone else." The slurping resumed.

Wei Wuxian, in all his glorious dumbassery, convinces his boyfriend to go on a date with someone else.

these two most powerful by @stiltonbasket (4K, amnesia, wangxian with children!!!, aksksk this was adorable, dadji!!)

When Lan Wangji went to bed last night, he was alone in a tiny guest room with nothing but the howling of the wind in the mountains and his own lonely thoughts for company.

 

But when he opened his eyes in the morning, Wei Ying was asleep beside him.

 

(In which Lan Wangji loses twenty years' worth of memories after a night-hunt gone wrong, and his life as a doting father and husband continues without a hitch somehow.)

good things come to those who wait [but i ain't in a patient phase] by @cerlunas (4K, getting together, pining lwj)

Lan Wangji can't take it anymore.

 

“I love you”, he says, and god, it feels terrifying. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time.”

“Lan Zhan…” Wei Wuxian starts, but Lan Wangji doesn’t want to hear it.

He grabs his cup and drinks everything. He doesn’t know what face Wei Wuxian is making at him right now, and it’s okay. 

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian repeats louder, but it’s too late. He is already falling asleep.

Or, even after 13 years, Lan Wangji is still in love with his best friend. Maybe it's time to open up.

wei ying, will you marry m- oh my god he swallowed the ring! by selene210 (2K, marriage proposals, crack, marriage proposals but.. they go wrong)

“A ring?”

And indeed it was. The ring Lan Wangji was going to propose to Wei Ying with. That the man had now choked on.

“You swallowed it.”

“It was in my soufflé! Why did you put a ring in my soufflé Lan Zhan- oh. oh”

of glittery valentine's cards by @soft-fics (3K, valentine's day, this was adorable aksk, a-yuan best boy!!)

Lan Zhan didn't want to know what his best friend had planned for Valentine's Day; his heart would simply not be able to handle it. When his son tells him that he made Wei Ying a Valentine's Day card, though, Lan Zhan decided to bring it over anyway.

of coffee and white tea by @soft-fics (9K, fluff, lwj doesn't like coffee, wwx buys him coffee, then they switch drinks, again and again and again, the staff ships it lmao, tbh jc shouldn't have done that like wtf)

For the fourth time this week a stranger orders him a cup of coffee. Lan Wangji wonders how exactly to tell this man to stop ordering him coffee he doesn't even like. Turns out, buying the other white tea and switching drinks is not the best way to go about it

canon setting

on the importance of restraint (or lack thereof) by nixthothou (4K, in which sizhui snaps, i love that boy, no like seriously he's the best boy)

Lan Sizhui does not usually find himself in the company of Sect Leader Jiang.

Suffice to say, Lan Sizhui's feelings toward him are conflicted.

lan wangji is wei wuxian's baby by lilycs (3K, i was craving fluff while reading this, lwj my beloved, drunk!lwj)

Lan Wangji gets drunk from barely a cup of alcohol, becoming a whiny baby and asking his husband for cuddles.

one of our own by glitteringmoonlight (8K, wei wuxian & lan sect, 5+1 things, in which they learn to love him, they're all part of the wwx protection squad lead by lwj, wangxian isn't the focus but !!! THIS)

Times change, but some people remain the same.

The Lans are nothing, if not aware of this.

For one of their own, they will stand against the world.

Or, 5 times the Lans defended Wei Wuxian, and the 1 time he was there to see it happen.

so why not crack your skull when the mind swells by @greenteafiend (13K, love curse, post cql canon, curses, getting together, fluff, so much fluff, lwj tries to talk about his emotions!, lwj pov)

Lan Wangji detects the curse trying to curl through his heart meridians like smoke. A love curse, then. It must have been cast remotely somehow to have found him in his bed in Cloud Recesses. No matter. Lan Wangji crushes it easily, enveloping it in his spiritual energy, and then squeezing. Curse averted, Lan Wangji closes his eyes and goes back to sleep. He thinks no more of it.

Two days later, Wei Wuxian arrives in Cloud Recesses.

Or, Wei Wuxian is cursed to feel terrible pain when he and Lan Wangji aren’t touching.

i started from the bottom / now i'm rich by x_los (57K, time travel, fix it, jealous lwj, crack treated serious, god this is so good tho, wwx/wrh & wwx/jgs but like as a joke and it doesn't really happen, but it has its purpose!!)

“First, you get the money. Then you get the power, respect - hos come last.”

 

Wen Qing traps Wei Wuxian in the Demon Slaughtering Cave, but Wei Wuxian isn’t interested in being the beneficiary of the Wen Remnants’ noble sacrifice. His efforts to free himself accidentally send him back to the beginning of the Sunshot Campaign. Coreless but armed with demonic cultivation, knowledge of the future and his wits, Wei Wuxian takes advantage of this opportunity to come out on top of both the war and its aftermath—before either has a chance to happen—by marrying and swiftly burying the cultivation world’s worst men.

Lan Wangji is confused, hurt, and uncomfortably aroused by Wei Wuxian’s improbably elaborate series of Sect-themed bridal negligees.

lead me on through by mrsronweasley (55K, they're in love your honor, arranged marriage but they don't know to whom, basically wwx & lwj want to practice kissing which then goes beyond kissing but not the whole way y'know, lxc the best wingman tho)

"Who do you think your betrothed is?" Wei Wuxian asks, sprawling out in front of Lan Zhan and enjoying the prim thinning of his lips at the question. He shouldn't be sprawling—they're in the library, for one, and Lan Zhan is studying, for another—but he can't help himself. Wei Wuxian is a sprawler.

"I do not believe this to be of importance," Lan Zhan responds, without turning his gaze away from his book.

"What!" Wei Wuxian sits up. "How can you say that? Of course it's important! This is the person you'll be with for the rest of your life, Lan Zhan."