#they do really stupid shit sometimes it cracks me up
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all these characters exude same vibe to me and you know im right
#con men schemers who put on a tough exterior but deep down really care#they do really stupid shit sometimes it cracks me up#i only ever had a hyperfixation on two of them guess who#bonus: maybe also ed from ofmd except he has different vibes to him idk#i mean like does he have a tough exterior? yes but its bc of trauma#dont come at me for ricks trauma thats him coping and its two different vibes#reigen arataka#rick sanchez#laszlo cravensworth#stan pines#mob psycho 100#rick and morty#wwdits#gravity falls
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everytime i feel bad and stressed about my life i remember that i might be in a troubling situation and having a bad time but im not season 4 fiona gallagher in the clink after leaving crack on the counter which my 3 year old baby brother happened to ingest resulting in a fatal near-death experience thats wracked me with never-ending guilt and forever altered my life
#this storyline was stupid you expect me to believe two-apples-tall liam gallagher came close to the crack AND managed to ingest it?#the crack which is lined up on the kitchen counter?#Also i don't believe that fiona would be irresponsible enough for liam to have been able to be close to the crack#that was an ooc moment and not like “its ooc cause thats the point shes going thru a tough time”#morelike “so ooc that it seems like a discrepancy that was overlooked for the sake of drama and shock value#as an older sister i feel like being watchful of your younger sibling if crack is in their general vicinity is an unstoppable instinct#its just not a plausible situation sorry like this is coming from someone who wholeheartedly embraces the realistic idea#of fiona falling short sometimes and being very human by struggling to consistently maintain her doting attentiveness#but anyways it's complicated cause Fiona clearly put it somewhere he cant reach#so how did he get access to it????#its like getting mad at a parent for putting a glass of wine on the counter#not comparing that to literal cocaine obviously this whole situation was nonetheless messed up#but just for some perspective... the writers were clearly doing cocaine themselves if they thought that#liam was bungee-jumping onto the counter and showing off his skills as an apparent budding olympics gymnast#not justifying anything but. listen.#the fact that it was on the counter FOR A REASONNN shows that fiona was careful to keep it out of reach and NOT do something insane like#putting it on the table#liam somehow magically having access to it defeats the purpose of it being on the counter.#if they really wanted for it to be believable that liam managed to snort it they should've put it on the table#but we already know that situation wouldn't be believable in its entirety cause we know that fiona would literally never leave it there#WHICH IS MY POINT. LIKE THIS SITUATION IS JUST ANNOYINGLY UNBELIEVABLE. FIONA WOULD NOT DO THIS AND HOW DID LIAM EVEN GET TO IT??#theres like 39482939 overlooked discrepancies just for the sake of getting to the shock#just to circle back Fiona would literally never let liam go near crack no matter how far gone and fucked up she was#I KNOW THIS BECAUSE I AM AN OLDER SISTER.#its just so UGHHHHH anyways obviously i still think in canon yeah Fiona was at fault shouldve been more careful and watchful#no matter how you look at it its clear that a risk like this just cannot be taken and she had to be blamed to an extent#but me personally? i reject it because it didnt feel natural to me at all there were 394939 other ways to frame a Fiona downfall#And i loved all the other ways her spiral was shown like getting messed up and ending up in Sheboygan#all the shit she got into with robbie + the impulsive urge to ruin the good thing she had going with mike#so human and believable and deeply flawed unlike the liam situation which was horrifically OOC and unrealistic
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Why do certain coworkers have to get you so annoyed with them without even trying, and they don't realize how annoying/obnoxious they are?? Or worse, they KNOW how annoying they are but don't seem to care cause they find it funny?
It's like the silence and neutral expressions aren't enough of a hint that I don't think you're funny and you should just stop while you still have your dignity...
Longer rant in the tags cause it's a lot.
#rant post#personal rant#idk what is with boys and think whenever you get annoyed with them means that its ok to keep going on with the shit 😒#i know it's not all boys but just certain ones#he's only 1-2 years younger than me but he acts pretty immature sometimes#he was trying to get my attention by doing stupid shit as distance away but i didn't acknowledge him and he got that message#but afterwards he tries other stuff and cracks himself up whenever he gets me to look at him thinking I'm giving him a reaction#he's....an odd puzzle piece to place#and my workplace is as small as a typical subway so i can't really keep my distance from him unless i go outside or got to the restrooms#ugh i just wish he wasn't like this ALL THE TIME and he wonders i act the way i do around him on the rare occasions he is serious#and it's just me and him working there other than my manager but can't really do anything about that for now#i just wanna scream at him to not smirk at me and dance around me like he's trying to do a mating dance that makes me uncomfortable each tim#-me but i gotta say it in a way that doesn't sound like I'm hysterical about it or cause ridges since I'm still working there#basically he's one of the reasons i want a new job. it shouldn't be the case where a coworker causes you to leave a job#but unfortunately this is where i am at this point#ok rant over XD#I'm going to wash my face and eat something
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Lying To Himself
Content: in which toji is left alone and how he deals with your temporary absence
You have to leave for two weeks, something about a mission in another city. Your boyfriend, Toji, swears it'll be okay, even insists that time will pass by in a blink of an eye.
“‘m not a fucking child, ma. I’ll be fine. Just take care, yeah?”
And so, you peck him on his lips and wave goodbye before you get in the car. Then you’re disappearing in the distance. Toji shrugs, going back in feeling pretty excited to have the house to himself for two weeks — this has never happened before. As he sits on the couch, bottle of beer in one hand and tv remote on the other, he thinks about all the things he can do now.
The toilet seat can stay up, the bins will be full for longer, same goes for the dirty dishes in the sink, and he can watch whatever he wants; no more of those sappy romcoms with predictable plots and cheesy lines.
“’s gonna be fun,” he mutters, a growing grin on his face.
A couple days pass in relative silence, he stays out late, sleeps till noon and eats all the junk you’ve banned from the house. Toji cooks all the steak he wants and leaves the beer bottles to collect dust on the coffee table. And he accepts every invitation from his buddies to go out for drinks, watch basketball at the bar, and plays a couple games too.
He stays up all night, on the evenings he's not getting stupid drunk, playing videogames -- the violent ones you cringe at. During the day, he walks around the place in just his boxers, sometimes not even that, and it's liberating. All a man needs is to be free to be balls naked in their own kitchen.
"You're not missing her at all?" Shiu asks, smoke blowing in his face as they stand in the back alley, leaning against the wall of the bar.
Toji snorts. "What am I? Five years old? I can last a couple weeks without being sappy."
His friend gives him a look, half amused, half disbelieving and a hundred percent smug. None of them miss the death grip he has on his phone, the way his knee is bouncing, and how he isn't even looking at the hot chicks that sway their asses as they walk by.
It’s been great. Really fucking great.
You haven’t been texting much. Sure, you check in here and there, letting him know you’re alright, you’re safe, and making sure he’s watered your plants. However, there are rarely any opportunities for phone calls longer than five minutes, no FaceTime either, and sometimes he goes to sleep without a ‘goodnight’ from you.
It’s fine.
At least, he can sleep at whatever time he wants without you whining about needing cuddles.
More days pass just like that.
And now he’s rarely leaving the house, finding his drunk friends boring, obnoxiously loud. It’s like he's suddenly realised they’re kinda fucking stupid. He starts to get sick of all the steak and fried chicken and takeaway, and instead he’ll text you for the recipe of your lasagne or that smoothie you make him in the mornings that’s always greener than the last.
His feet tap on the floor when you don’t reply straight away. And when his phone lights up, he practically dives for it and grips it tight in his palm, screen threatening to crack when it’s not from you.
“God fucking dammit, Shiu. Don’t fucking talk to me if it’s not important.”
The movies he’s been dying to watch are pretty shit. There’s no depth, no proper pacing, and the dialogue’s cheesy as fuck. Usually, you’d throw popcorn at the screen and complain about all those things, but he finds that he has to mutter them to himself for white noise. Even smirks when he thinks he got it exactly right, guessing what you’d say as if you’re yapping right in his ear.
“She’d totally find that shit stupid. And that blood looks fake as fuck. What was the fucking budget for this shit?”
Most of the phone calls on his history log are from him, more reds than greens. What the fuck have they got you doing over there anyways?
When you do reply to his ‘g’night’ and ‘hey, sleep well?’, he’ll have a go at you for taking so damn long. It’s just fucking ridiculous that you’re clearly sleeping well when he has to hit the gym and tire himself out to even get an hour of shut eye nowadays. Sometimes, he can’t even get any and he just paces the length of the living room waiting for a notification from you to pop up.
“Fucking come on! Y'r phone better be dead or something.”
Toji hates having dinner on the table; the seat opposite him is empty, the placemat bare and he feels a freaky fucking soreness in his chest. When that happens, he never finishes his dinner. Must be a symptom of early heart disease. Gotta talk to the doctors about that.
Instead, he eats on the sofa or in his car.
Eventually, you find time to speak to him for an hour, recounting all the crazy things you’ve seen and had to do. He doesn’t interrupt, he just grunts here and there, not even really listening but he urges you to keep talking when there’s a pause, like you’re unsure if you’re talking too much. And when you try to turn the conversation on him, asking about his day, he gives one word answers and then throws you another question.
“Yeah?” He grunts. “What else? Speak up, ma. Wanna hear ya. D’ya go to that shop? Yeah? Y’ buy anything? Send me a picture.”
He gets two nights of decent sleep after that.
But then…
The guys at work know better than to open their fat mouths around him when he turns up with an extra wrinkle and a ticking in his jaw. Toji is somehow even more sadistic and violent and eager for blood. Even finally accepts their invitation to go out for drinks and drowns himself in the extra strong shit. Assuming he just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, they don’t question his sour mood.
But what they don’t know is that you texted, just a day before you’re set to come back, to let him know you’re staying another week.
Fucking texted.
Didn’t even get to hear it from your own voice.
He buries himself in more work and stays at the gym for even longer, pushing his body so far, his mind quiets down and he don’t gotta think about the fact that he’s started sleeping on your side of the bed, that the house is losing your scent, and that divot on the couch where you always sat has flattened out.
Everyone knows he’s losing his mind. They can tell by the dark circles under his eyes and the fact that he’s started snapping at women who are either flirting or just doing their jobs. And sometimes they even have to block his view of couples practising PDA. That’s the closest to hell they ever want to get around Toji. Suddenly, everyone’s hoping you throw the guy a bone and send a nude or something. Literally anything to rein him back in.
The day comes, though, when you’re finally returning home.
“Y’ sure? Not gonna flake again? Be fucking sure, ma. Alright, get back safe.”
Toji throws all the rubbish out, washes the dishes and dries them, double checks that the toilet seat is down, and he’s followed your recipe for beef stew to the letter — it’s cooking in the oven, and it looks fucking great. Even exfoliated in the shower like you’ve been asking him to, almost took off an entire layer of skin. He doesn’t want to admit he feels pretty fucking fresh.
The door handle rattles.
He sits up. And then stands. Walks over to the front door, arms crossing and then uncrossing.
You’re here.
“Hey, Toji—“
Your greeting is smothered in his chest as he threatens to suffocate you with the hardest bear hug in the whole world. And though he’d never hurt you, if you weren’t a sorcerer, you’d have been in big trouble.
“Y’ hungry? Or y’ wanna shower first?”
His hands are all over you, lifting your chin to search your face for any scratches, even squishes your cheeks to be sure, and he’s patting you down for bruises or just to make sure all your limbs are intact. There’s a frown on his lips and it’s pretty darn cute.
“Aw, Toji, baby. Did you miss me?”
“No.”
You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re not a child, blah blah blah.”
Walking past him to take your shoes off, hang your coat and roll your suitcase to the side, you’re inhaling the air and moaning about the delicious food in the oven. Oh, God. You’ve been craving homemade food for so long now. You might actually die if you don’t eat.
“Come here.” Your eyes dart to him, still standing by the doorway, fists clenching and unclenching. Toji looks furious. You look closer. No, he looks…embarrassed? “Said come here, ma.”
“Why?” You ask, head titling in curiosity and slight suspicion.
He grunts. “What? I gotta spell it out for ya?”
Laughing, you tap your foot on the ground and retort back, “Yeah, you might because you need to have a good reason from keeping me from both a good shower and a warm meal.”
Toji rolls his eyes and stalks over to you, yanking you back to his chest so he can wrap his arms around you and keep you still. It’s much softer than before, but you feel the same sense of passion, something that verges on desperation.
It’s almost like…
No.
It can’t be.
Oh, but when you feel his face bury itself in your neck and you hear that long inhale, followed by a deep groan vibrating through his chest, you’re absolutely sure.
Toji missed you.
An overwhelming feeling of love fills you, so does a sense of victory, and you just hug him back, inhaling deeply too. He smells like home, like reluctant cuddles, pats on the ass, and early morning sex. You thought you’d have the most trouble in the two weeks, which turned into three, but as it turns out, he didn’t fare much better.
Though he’d never admit it with his own mouth, his body betrays him.
Toji doesn’t let you get very far without a hand on you somehow, whether that’s a hand on your thigh as you eat dinner side by side, instead of across from each other, or you sitting on his lap as you watch the movie you want to watch. He even waits on the toilet lid as you shower, though that only lasts a couple minutes before he’s stripping and joining you.
“Y’r not washing y’r hair right,” he tuts.
Getting into bed is even worse because he’s practically lying on top of you the whole night, still sniffing your neck, and with his hands exploring your body. Not really in a sexual way, which is odd for him, but as if he just wants to feel you. He wants to feel your warmth, your softness, and reassure himself you’re home.
Soon, he’s out cold and you mumble a goodnight against his forehead.
He wakes up feeling completely refreshed, like a newborn, stretching and grinning about getting ready with the day, and frowns when you’re still fast asleep. Part of him wants to make sure you’re getting your rest, but that part doesn’t win for very long and the much bigger part is shaking you awake.
“Come on, ma. Fucking bored here. Wake up, yeah? Let’s get some breakfast. Wanna talk to ya.”
And when you do wake up, grumbling at how loud he’s being, he ignores the glares you’re giving and the swatting of his hands. Toji gives you a rare, wide, toothy smile and he says,
“There’s my gorgeous girl. Good morning, baby.”
Yeah, this man totally missed you.
#jjk angst#jjk fluff#jjk fic#jjk oneshot#jjk drabble#toji x reader#jjk x reader#toji angst#toji fluff#toji drabble#toji fic#toji oneshot
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GHOSTLY ROMANCE ♡
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: fushiguro toji/reader
𝐖𝐂: 8k
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: when it becomes blatantly obvious your house is being haunted, the only thing there is for you to do is coexist but what do you do when that ghostly presence haunting your house begins haunting your heart ??
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, swearing, making out, obsessive! toji, ghost! toji, slight perv! toji, toji has a big dick, dirty talk, fingering, voyeurism (?), p in v sex, squirting, creampie, f!reader, reader referred to as 'woman', i think that's all ♡
As of late, you’re beginning to have a sneaking suspicion that your house is haunted, and you aren’t really sure how to react. Often times, you’ll find things aren’t where you left them, some objects are moved just slightly of where they were, and other things are found in completely different rooms.
Sometimes when you go to lock your doors and windows for the night, you find it’s already been done. Innocuous and for the most part these are things you could brush off as you being absent minded, the kicker comes when you start seeing a figure out the corner of your eye or in a passing reflection.
Ignoring it all has been your go to, deciding it’s best to just pretend it’s not happening, and you would continue to keep doing so but your sleep is getting interrupted now and if there is anything you don’t get in between, it’s you and your sleep.
The dreams you’ve been having have started to wander into the obscure territory of some man you don’t recognise living in your house. He walks around like he owns the place, locking doors, closing curtains. It’s not particularly scary but it is unsettling and leaves you feeling unrested, like you didn’t sleep much at all.
Now, as you’re trying to get some well-deserved rest, something goes bump in the night, and you just know it’s that stupid man haunting your house. Frustratedly, you kick the covers off your body and stomp down the hall to where you think the sound originated from.
Arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently, you wait for something, anything, but of course nothing comes. This ghost, entity, or whatever, that’s haunting you started off as easy to ignore and now it’s pissing you off greatly, you just want some damn sleep.
“You got me here, you got me out of bed so you must want something,” your foot continues to tap, increasing pace with your bad mood.
The room continues to be blanketed by the quiet you so badly wanted while you were drifting to sleep, “You’re so rude, haunting me with stupid dreams and moving my shit…” you’re grumbling to yourself, “…haven’t slept well in over a week and now I can’t even get to sleep!”
Still, the room is filled by the deafening silence that usually lingers in your house at this hour, “Great… and now I’m talking to myself, I’m going fucking crazy.”
As you turn to leave the room, you bump into something that feels as stiff as a board. You take a few steps back at it and you’re met with someone’s chest. The person in front of you leans down until they meet your face, his tone deep and monotone when he lets out a low, “Boo.”
It almost feels like the blood drains out of your body at the sight of him and before you have time to really process, your hand is reaching back and up to give him a hard slap right across the face. A small yelp leaving you at it, the smack resounding throughout the otherwise quiet house.
When you draw your hand back, it’s to cover your mouth as you gasp at just how hard you seemed to have slapped him, apology tumbling from your lips and you can only really say it’s because of how shocked you are by the force you used, “I’m so sorry, oh my God, that sounded really bad… did that hurt?”
He’s stoic for a moment before cracking a smile and chuckling at your shocked apology, “Not quite the reaction I was looking for.”
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you…” you trail off, suddenly regretting all your apologies, “Hey! You’re the one who should be apologising to me.”
He’s still far too amused for your liking, “What for? You’re the one who hit me.”
“You quite frankly deserved it,” your brows furrow as you eye him over, you expected something more… ghoulish but he appears to just be some man.
“I don’t think so, I’ve done nothing to you…” he’s talking but you’re not really paying attention, confused by his appearance and, honestly, existence.
Your finger moves towards him, poking at his chest, something you think you shouldn’t be able to do. He’s firm, obviously corporeal, it’d surprise you more if you hadn’t just slapped him as hard as you did.
You’re lost in your thoughts as you continue to poke at him. He cuts himself off to grab your wrist, “–What are you doing?”
“Are you just some guy? Are you just some man in my house right now?” You’re beginning to freak out, much more amenable to the idea of a ghost in your house over some stranger, “I have to call the cops…” you try tugging away, quickly growing more fearful.
He’s rolling his eyes at you like you’re overreacting, “Calm down.”
Your eyes are big and round as you look up at him, scared out of your mind as the idea of some man in your house settles in your bones, “No, I think I’m going to keep being scared.”
“If it makes you feel better, I’m not human…” he squints at you, “Anymore.”
Rightly sceptical when you utter back, “I don’t know if I believe you…”
He seems annoyed at your unwillingness to take him at his word, sighing as he turns and walks out of the room… through the wall. You wait a moment for him to come back but he doesn’t, you’re left in the room alone, wondering if that little interaction actually happened or if you’ve finally lost it.
Another moment passes, waiting, just in case he appears again before you resign yourself to the fact that you’re beginning to hallucinate from lack of sleep. Taking a deep breath, you steady yourself and walk back to your room, only to be met with the sight of him laying leisurely on your bed.
“I’ve gone insane,” you mumble to yourself, “I’m losing my fucking mind in this house alone.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re sane, from what I’ve seen anyways,” He shrugs, “A little spacey but otherwise.”
His words have you glaring at him, “You ever been told you’re annoying?”
“Not for a long time, no,” his smirk is lopsided.
You approach the foot of your bed, looking at him with your arms crossed, “Right… okay, well, you’re annoying.”
His own arms are supporting his head, clearly very comfortable in your bed, “You’ve only spoken to me for a few minutes, I might grow on you.”
A scowl overtakes your face, “I really doubt it.”
His smile feels condescending, “I think it’s your only option, either you get used to me or you move out because this was my house first, sorry doll.”
“I’m still not fully convinced you’re not just some guy in my house,” how are you meant to tell if you’ve gone insane? Maybe you should book a doctor’s appointment.
“I technically am…” he tilts his head at you, “I’m just not alive.”
There are so many questions you have, and you aren’t even sure if you’d believe any of his answers, “If you’re a ghost why can I touch you?”
Stretching out slightly, he groans before answering, “Because I let you, how else would I be moving your shit around?”
“So, you are moving my things around!” You’re pointing at him like some huge mystery has been solved.
He looks at you like it should be obvious at this point that it was him, taking the wind out of your sails with a single look.
Coughing slightly, you cross your arms again, trying to recover from the slight embarrassment you’re currently feeling, “Why are you touching my things and why show yourself now?”
“You yelled at me to show myself,” he rolls his neck, “Thought I’d be polite and give an introduction.”
“Some introduction… you didn’t even give me your name,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache coming on, “You only answered one of my questions.”
A soft sigh leaves him, like this whole conversation is becoming tedious, “I get bored.”
“Really? That’s your answer? I’ve been wondering if I’m crazy or if my house is haunted and even losing sleep over stupid dreams of your stupid face and you’re telling me it’s because you’re bored.”
He purses his lips, like he’s trying to hide a smile, “Pretty much.”
“Get out.”
“What?”
“You heard me,” your hands are on your hips, prominent frown plastered on your face, “Get out.”
“I can’t technically leave,” he tries to reason with you.
“I don’t care, I know you can disappear and leave me alone so do that,” you’re so tired and cranky, you just want to go to sleep and pretend this never happened, “I want to sleep, and I want it to be peaceful so leave me alone and get out!”
“So bossy,” he grumbles as he gets up, leaning down into your space as he walks past you, “I like that in a woman.”
You fight the involuntary shiver that wants to run down your spine, beyond pissed off at Casper the annoying ghost. Why did your house have to be haunted? Why couldn’t you live a peaceful and normal life? These are all things you wonder as you crawl into bed, determined to get some sleep tonight.
ִֶָ𓂃 ༘࣪࿐
In the morning, you think what had happened last night was some obscure dream, and you’d probably go on thinking that way if your ghostly house guest didn’t appear in front of you while you’re in the middle of breakfast.
Your spoon clatters to your bowl with a gasp, “Don’t!” You sigh loudly, “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?” He leans back into the chair across from you.
“Don’t just appear,” you grumble to yourself, “Almost thought I had made up all of last night.” So close to having a normal life, you can see it now floating out of your grasp.
“Sorry, doll, I’m very real and I very much live here.”
That earns him a scoff, “You’re a freeloader.”
“Excuse me?” He leans forward, elbows resting on the table.
You repeat it for him slower, “You. Are. A. Freeloader.”
“I heard you,” his eye almost twitches.
Leaning back in your chair, you cross your arms, looking away from him and out the window, “Then don’t act like you didn’t.”
“I could kill you,” he threatens.
You don’t feel inclined to take him seriously, “So could my neighbour, you’re not special.” Your gaze is fixed out the window, watching said neighbour walking to collect his mail. When you turn back to your unwanted companion his glare is pointed and very clearly unhappy which only has you rolling your eyes at him, “You’d really kill me because I called you a freeloader?”
A quiet hum leaves him, “I’m considering it.”
“Drama queen,” it’s murmured but you know he heard it, especially if his growing scowl is anything to go off.
“Shouldn’t you be more scared or something?”
Your eyes squint at him, leaning over the table slightly as you provoke, “Oh, I bet you’d love that.”
“I would actually,” he almost sounds exasperated which only has you growing amused.
You decide to try bargaining with him, “Listen, if you’re gonna freeload here the least you can do is stay out of my way.”
“I liked you better last night when you were scared.”
You take a mouthful of your breakfast, pointing at him with your spoon when you reply, “Well, I liked you better a few months ago when it was significantly easier to ignore your presence.”
It’s quiet, no reply coming from him, leaving it up to you to continue the conversation if you want answers, “What do you even want? Because if you really do plan on killing me I’ll tell you now that the next person who lives here will not be as cute as I am.”
He deadpans at your joke, “You’re hilarious.”
“I know,” you flick your head like you’re flipping luxurious hair.
Already seemingly sick of you when he grumbles, “I already regret showing myself to you.”
“Good, this is much more of an ordeal for me you know? Not only do I know ghosts exist now but there is some guy in my house all the time, how am I meant to go on with my daily life?”
“Not really my problem,” he brushes off your concern.
Being honest, you say, “I don’t like you.”
To which he returns with a big grin, “I’ll grow on you.”
ִֶָ𓂃 ༘࣪࿐
You wish so badly that he didn’t, but he does, he grows on you. It’s nice coming home to someone, having someone to talk to while you eat or do mundane chores. It’s been a few months now and you thought he would be more of a bother, but you think you might be the one bothering him.
It’s funny how you didn’t realise how lonely you were until you finally had someone to spend time with. Early on he told you his name, Toji, he told you he used to live here, and that he died in the house. He still hasn’t disclosed to you how he died, and you don’t want to intrude by asking so you don’t. He’s still quite young so you imagine it wasn’t by natural causes which only deters you from wanting to probe for any more information from him.
If you’re being honest with yourself, you’d recognise that you’re beginning to crush on a ghost but since that seems like something so far out of the realm of ever possibly happening, you squash down the feelings. And when that doesn’t work, you try avoiding him, which is not exactly a fool proof plan when he’s the ghost haunting your house who doesn’t need to sleep.
For the third weekend in a row, you’re sneaking into your own house late, having been out all night with friends just to avoid spending the whole day with Toji. It’s his fault though! He’s hot and also a huge flirt and he makes your heart race, and none of these thoughts are holy so you decided to just avoid him altogether.
Kicking your shoes off at the door, you sneak through the house and into your room, thinking you’ve successfully changed and gotten into bed without him noticing. Victory short lived when he appears next to you on your bed, his weight causing the mattress to dip suddenly.
You scrabble for a second, not expecting the shift, body falling into his. Sheepishly, you look up at him, hand pressed to his chest trying to give yourself some space to think, not used to this proximity. You purposefully keep your distance from him, and it feels like he purposefully gets in yours.
He’s quick to get to the point, “Where were you?”
“Out with some friends…” Hesitance clear in your answer.
“Again,” It’s a question but it doesn’t really sound like one.
“…Yeah.”
His eyes scan your face intently and it has you shying away from him, “You’re being odd,” he states abruptly.
Immediate response being defensiveness, “Because I’m going out with my friends?”
“No, that’s not it, it’s the frequency, you used to spend most weekends home alone.”
Still, you can’t get used to how he knows these things about you, “Okay we’re just gonna ignore that you know that about me.”
Again, he doesn’t beat around the bush, “Don’t change the topic, you’ve been avoiding me.”
Gaze averting his as you stumble out a small, “That’s not true.”
His eyes meet yours with a pointed look, clearly not believing your half assed lie, “Come on, doll, if I’ve done something to upset you I’d prefer you just say it.”
“You’ve not done anything,” you jump to assure him, not wanting him to feel bad for no reason. “You’re the best ghost anyone could ask to haunt their house.”
Ignoring your attempt at humour he pushes for more, “Then what is it?”
An awkward pause shared between you as you try to think of an excuse, “Uhm… My friends… have just been wanting to see me more is all, it has nothing to do with you…”
“Mhm…” you can tell he doesn’t believe you, but he can’t go much further than this, he was as blunt as he could be and hit a brick wall. “Well, I want to see you more too.”
You roll your eyes gently at that, ignoring the excitement his words illicit, “Toji, we live together.”
Expression sour when he retorts, “It doesn’t feel like it lately.”
It’s cute how he’s almost pouting, it’d be cuter if you didn’t feel completely awful for ghosting him. You still get to see each other throughout the day but you work during the week, and you haven’t been spending much free time with him lately, often opting for going out instead. If avoiding him like this is going to keep making him feel bad you don’t want to keep doing it.
Taking the safe option, you choose to make the time spent together productive, “I’ll be home this weekend… I have a bunch of laundry to do though so it might not be fun.”
His smile is crooked, “Alright… got my eyes on you though, doll,” he means it in a light-hearted way, but you think you’ve actually hurt him.
“Okay…” you wait a moment for him to leave but he doesn’t, you’re still too close to him and he’s not moving. The silence in the room deafening as you can only look at him and wait for his next move.
When he doesn’t say anything, you prompt, “Toji… are you gonna leave?”
“Do you want me to?” His gaze is on your lips, hand reaching to cradle your face and just when you think he might lean in to kiss you, he pecks the top of your head, “Night.” It’s the last thing he says before he disappears into thin air.
Your heart feels like it might explode, beating a mile a minute at how he seemed to almost kiss you. The disappointment that settled in you when he didn’t uncomfortable, were you just reading into things or did he actually want to kiss you.
The covers get pulled up over your head as you grumble to yourself, how the hell are you meant to sleep now… he’s confusing you and it’s so unfair. You’d probably get over your feelings for him if he didn’t also show interest in you like this, he’s giving you hope, and it doesn’t feel good.
ִֶָ𓂃 ༘࣪࿐
Ever since the night Toji almost kissed you, it’s all you’ve been able to think about, almost operating like a zombie as you go through the motions at home and at work. Every time you saw him it felt like your skin was on fire, like you might spontaneously burst into flames.
This week has been especially trying because it seems like he actually has been watching you closer than usual. Normally he would give you some more space, but it was almost like every time you were in one of the main areas of the house, he was also there. He’s not the type you’d peg for being clingy but then again, you didn’t take your house to be the haunted kind so what do you know.
Getting lost in your thoughts while fiddling with your poor-quality sink isn’t the best course of action, but it doesn’t seem like you’re making any good choices in life right now. While trying to tighten the faucet by hand, it decides to punish you for being absent minded and sprays water all down your front.
Quickly, you rush to stop the water, all kinds of expletives leave you as your hands slip over the metal. When the water finally stops your hands grab the edge of the counter, slumping against it.
A shiver runs down your spine before you hear him speak, “You really should pay more attention to what you’re doing.”
“It’s not my fault, this sink sucks!” If you had slightly less emotional regulation you might stomp your feet about it all.
He laughs at your frowny face, “I always meant to get it replaced.”
Turning to face him, you huff, “This sink is the bane of my existence.”
“It’s not all bad,” his eyes track down your front, “I did get to see you in a wet shirt because of it.”
“You’re unbearable,” you groan.
“And yet you’ve never tried to exorcise me.”
“You know what, that’s a good option to keep in mind, thanks,” you smile sarcastically at him before wandering down the hall, muttering to yourself, “Well… at least it’s laundry day today I guess…”
Toji is hot on your trail, not speaking, just following you around the house as you collect all your laundry. If you had to describe it, you’d probably say he was hovering, like he’s waiting for you to crack and tell him why you’ve been avoiding him.
You would love to talk to him about what’s bothering you but how exactly does one go about telling the hot ghost that you coexist with that you want to jump his bones, there must be a wiki how page for that online somewhere. The absurdity of the situation is almost enough to make you laugh, almost.
“You in there, doll?” Toji’s voice shocks you back down to Earth.
Dropping the shirt you’d been holding for too long into the washer as you reply, “Hmm? Yeah… I’m here, what’s up?”
“You know you’ve always been a little spacey, but it’s been worse lately.” His head tilts at you, like he’s observing your behaviours.
Throwing a glance his way as you refute, “I am not spacey.”
He looks away from you like he’s avoiding engaging with you on that topic any further, “I’m just asking if you’re okay, Something on your mind?”
“Nothing that concerns you,” dragging out the word as you squint at him.
The exasperated tone he uses is not lost on you, “Then why have you been avoiding me?”
“Didn’t we establish last week that I haven’t been?” Ignoring his stare as you continue to load the washing machine.
“No, we established that you’re lying about not avoiding me.”
The persistence he displays is almost admirable, “You’re annoying.”
“So are you but less so lately,” response quick on his tongue.
“Maybe I’ve reflected on my previous ways and decided to be a better person.” He scoffs at that, and you turn to face him, looking him in the eyes, “What do you want from me?”
“I just wanna know why you don’t spend time with me anymore,” he leans into your space, grin wide and taunting, “You get scared or something?”
“Of you?” brow quirking at him, “Please,” eye roll following your words.
He sighs at you, backing out of your space, “You’re unbearable.”
“That’s my line,” you shoot back, focusing on your laundry again.
A quick hand snatches the garment you’re holding out of your grasp, his attempt at getting your attention back on him. It works because you’re facing him fully now, “You’re childish.”
“Woah,” he looks at what he’s holding like he’s only just noticed what he had grabbed, “These are cute.”
If the ground could swallow you whole, you wish it would happen now because why is your unwanted roommate holding a pair of your panties while smiling at you like the cat that got the canary.
“Toji,” you warn.
He hums back at you, almost indulgent, “Yes, doll?”
“Give them back.”
Dangling your underwear in between the two of you by a single digit, he considers, “I don’t know… I think I like these; I might keep them.”
The expression on your face incredulous, “And what? Wear them?”
“I’m sure I’ll find some use for them,” suggestion written all over his face in a way you wish you weren’t attracted to.
“Toji.” A second warning.
Again, his reply is the same, “Yes, doll?”
“They’re dirty.”
“Really?” He looks to them, “Want me to check?” Hand bringing them close to his face before you snatch them away.
“Don’t be gross!” You chastise him, chucking the panties into the machine with more force than necessary.
Your skin feels hot from embarrassment, how can he be so shameless? It’s uncomfortably quiet in the laundry room as you silently stew while looking down into the washer.
Toji sounds tentative when he speaks, “Are you mad?”
He’s met with an immediate glare at his stupid question, “Well I’m not happy!” Brows pinched and feeling like your head is about to explode when you struggle to get out, “How– how can you be so… so? So shameless.”
“Being dead doesn’t hurt,” he says casually.
You can’t tell if that’s an attempt at humour or if he’s being serious but if you had to guess you’d say it’s a little of both, “I can’t believe I’ve been crushing on you, you’re so embarrassing. What does that say about me? attracted to a shameless ghost who does nothing but embarrass me.”
Your foot has started tapping against the floor with your frustrations, not even registering the blunder you made about outing your crush on him… you know, the thing you’ve been actively avoiding him over just to keep secret.
It’s not until he’s leaning into your space and asking, “You been crushing on me, doll?” That you realise the mistake you’d made.
“What?” You heard him perfectly fine. Only feigning ignorance in an attempt to think of a convincing cover.
There’s pride oozing from him, his grin growing by the second, “You just said–”
“–No, I didn’t,” there is no way to save this and so you fall back on blatantly lying.
He’s revelling in how flustered you are and it’s making it worse, “No, no, I heard you loud and clear. You’ve been crushing on me.”
Your hands move to either side your head, covering your ears as you try to block out what he’s saying, “I can’t hear you; I don’t know what you’re saying.”
Despite your actions, you can hear him perfectly. So, you hear him crystal clear when he borderline taunts, “You have a crush on the ghost haunting your house!”
You don’t say anything back, only staring at him as you wear all your embarrassment on your face.
His smile lessens, replaced by a kinder one, “Is that why you been avoiding me?”
Slowly turning to face him, you drop your hands and give a small nod, feeling all kinds of uncomfortable right now. The fact his immediate reaction was to be amused and prideful has you confused on just what he’s thinking about, does he only find your feelings funny? Does he not take them seriously? Or maybe you’d been overthinking it… it is just a crush after all.
You feel a little guilty over how your feelings have been making you act. He’s literally stuck with you and you’re making it awkward all because you find him attractive, “I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable… but it’s just a crush, I’ll get over it.”
You meant to offer him some kind of relief in saying that, but it doesn’t seem to give him any. A low hum coming from him as he moves in closer. Bending at the waist so he can eye you carefully, getting so close that you avoid his gaze, face hot at his proximity.
“What are you–”
“–You’d just get over me?” He asks. You can’t decipher his intent.
Not able to help the way you fumble over yourself when answering honestly, “I– well… I mean… eventually? Right?”
Almost doubtful when he counters, “And you think I’m just gonna let that happen?”
The way in which he says it takes you aback, eyes meeting his when you utter a succinct, “Stop.”
A singular brow raises at you, “Stop what?”
“Stop flirting with me,” it’s unfair and only serving to confuse you further.
“Why?”
Expression somewhere between a pout and scowl when you grumble, “You are the most exasperating man I have ever had the displeasure of trying to have a conversation with.”
“And yet you have a crush on me,” his eyebrows raise.
Swapping back to denial is your solution, “I just changed my mind; I don’t have a crush on you anymore.”
Still, he flirts, “And there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”
“Nope,” you pop the word at him, “All my feelings vanished just like that.”
“That’s a damn shame,” he’s smirking as he looks at your lips before flicking back to your eyes. One of his hands reach to cradle the side of your face, mouth hovering overs yours, so close to kissing you but ultimately not moving any more than that.
Your eyes had closed at the way he leaned in but when you don’t feel his lips on yours you open them to see the way he’s looking down his nose at you, smug smile ever present on his stupid face.
“You’re being cruel,” and he his, he knows it too, it’s entirely purposeful on his behalf and you can only take so much.
His thumb brushes your lower lip gently, still so unbearably close when he asks, “How so?”
“Let me go.” You huff at him, “You’re so distracting, go haunt a different part of the house. I need to finish my laundry.”
“Why are you so stubborn?” His words are accompanied by an eyeroll.
“Why are you so–”
You’re cut off abruptly by his lips colliding with yours, clearly uninterested in further back and forth. Especially since it seems like you’re not willing to give up and just tell him you want him to kiss you. When you’re not immediately pulling away, he’s moving his body closer to yours, other hand large on your back as he pulls you towards him.
Lips so much more careful than you would’ve expected of him. Searching and relentless but not rough, not yet anyways. Your hands move to his shoulders and grip him, giving into him completely, his kiss taking your breath away.
The hand on the side of your face is manoeuvring you how he likes, wanting to deepen the kiss. Tongue licking into your mouth, it sends shivers down your spine, involuntary moan leaving you.
You aren’t really registering it but he’s walking you back, sandwiching you between the washing machine and his large body. Hand previously on the small of your back now on your hip, pulling at your flesh. Then slipping it under your shirt and resting against your skin, his touch eliciting goose bumps.
He tilts your head back and trails his lips down your neck, nipping at you as he goes. Your pants filling the room, small and quiet moans mixed in with your breaths. You can hardly think, too focused on how it feels to have him touching you.
Suddenly gasping a moan when he bites at your neck a little harder than you were expecting, your thighs rubbing together at it. His movements grow more frenzied, lips back on yours in full force, tongue in your mouth depriving you of your air.
So much so that you have to push him back by his shoulders, chest moving rapidly as you catch your breath. Eyes wet and glassy when you look up at him, brows pulled up as you struggle to focus in on his face.
“Sorry, I got a bit carried away,” he’s staring at you, awestruck by the stupid look on your face.
You ignore his apology, “Kiss me again? Please?”
“How can I refuse when you ask like that?” The answer is he couldn’t, not when your eyes are all glassy from his lips.
The kiss is messy and despite the coolness of him, hot. Your arms are wrapped around his neck now, pulling him down into you. Both his hands on your hips, playing with the waistband of your pants, fingers tickling against your skin.
Parting to speak against your ear, “You gonna let me touch you, doll?”
Nodding at him, “Yeah…”
He hums at you thoughtfully, “You crushing on me again or am I imagining the hearts in your eyes right now?”
“You ruin everything– ah–” words interrupted by his hand slipping into the front of your pants and underwear.
His fingers slip through your folds, tracing your clit softly, “Am I still ruining everything?”
“Oh!– noo, no you’re not,” your words are breathless as you shake your head, not wanting him to stop.
“You know…” his grin is sly as he speaks to you lowly, “You’re awfully wet for someone you don’t have a crush on.”
Wanting him to stop talking, you turn your head and kiss him. Your tongue sliding into his mouth, the kiss desperate and chaotic. Lips connected by a string of saliva when you pull back.
Your words are saturated in sarcasm but completely true, “I have a big fat crush on you, Toji, are you happy now?”
“Ecstatic,” he smiles brightly, finger probing at your entrance, “In fact, I might just reward you.” As he finishes his sentence, his digit is pushing into you, biting his lip at how you gasp against him. “You know, you’re really cute like this, all breathless and struggling to take a finger.”
“Such a mean ghost,” you sulk.
“You’re meaner, avoiding me all because of a stupid crush,” his finger crooks inside you, almost knocking you over, “If you’d just told me about it we could’ve had fun so much sooner, you been depriving me of this sweet cunt.”
Your legs are feeling shaky under you, “How was I supposed to– hah– know?”
“I flirt with you relentlessly and follow you around all day like a damn puppy and you think I don’t wanna fuck you?” He chuckles humourlessly, “Shit, doll, if you needed it to be more obvious all you had to do was tell me.” A second finger joins his first, scissoring them to open you up, “I’d drop to my knees just to please you.”
His words make you dizzy, the idea of him on his knees and lapping at your pussy damn near capable of killing you. Your stomach flutters with butterflies at how willing he is to make you feel good.
He can feel the way your cunt clenches down on his fingers, his chest squeezing with how reactive you are to him, “Oh? You liked that, doll? Like the idea of me licking your pussy?”
“I need you, please,” your lip quivers, shudders running through your body at how his thumb rubs over your clit.
A single peck is pressed to your wobbly lower lip, “You already got me.”
“Noo– oh God–” You’re trying so hard to get your words out but he’s touching you so insistently, his fingers reaching all the perfect spots so effortlessly you might go blind. Your head rolls back as you gasp out, nails clawing down the front of his chest.
Slurred words and jumbled moans leaving you as his hand speeds up. It’s an active effort to get out, “Wan– want your– ah! dick, please.”
He laughs like he’s had the wind knocked out of him, “Only ever need to ask.” His hand is drawing back from your core, a pathetic whimper leaving you at the loss. “Turn around for me, doll.”
You do as he says, turning around to face the washing machine, one of his hands reaching forward to shut the lid. His body moves in close behind you, his front pressing into your back, firm erection against your ass.
His lips brush against your ear, “Hold on and bend over.”
“You’re so demanding,” you mutter as you do what he says.
He counters, “And you’re so obeying.” You can feel the air of his smugness radiating from behind you.
Both his hands tug at your pants, slowly pulling them down your body until they drop onto the floor. You can’t help but feel exposed and impatient, your panties stuck to your core with the arousal that drips from you. Toji’s finger creeps into the gusset, pulling them back before letting go, teasing you for his own enjoyment.
Straightening up, you try to turn to face him and tell him off for being a massive tease but he’s too close to you. An arm is wrapping around your front as his head tucks into your neck, “You going somewhere?”
“I thought since you seem to be indecisive I’d leave while you think about your next move,” you bite back.
He’s pushing your front back down, “You always this impatient?”
“You always this big a tease?” Your hands reach out to hold the machine again.
“Always got something to say don’t you?”
“Toji, I’m so wet and needy and if you don’t do something soon I’m going to finish without you and I’ll make you watch.”
Quietly and under his breath, he utters, “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Before you get a chance to spin around and question him on that further, he’s pulled his pants down and your panties to the side. His cock head stretching you open, your fist slams down into the washer as you struggle to accommodate his size. Stuttered gasps and whines leaving you as he presses forward inch by inch. One of your hands has to reach back and rest on his pelvis, stopping him, needing a moment to catch your breath and get used to taking his size.
You pant out to him, “Wh– what did you mean?”
“Fffuck–” he’s struggling to maintain focus when you’re gripping him that tightly, “What?”
You’re trying to control your breathing as you ask again, “What did you mean by ‘wouldn’t be the first time’?”
“Doll, I’ve been in this house since long before you moved in,” he leans down to you, his lips brushing against your ear, “I’ve seen you fucking yourself with your toys.”
Involuntary whimper leaving you, your hips rutting back into him, “You’re such a perv.”
“Oh yeah, the fuckin biggest,” he groans at how your pussy flutters around him, “Loved when you would come home high and dry from a date, your cunt drenching your dildo with just how needy you were, squirming in your bed while fucking yourself.”
You hate how turned on you are at the thought of him watching you masturbate, “Move, please.” Hand moving away, giving him room.
He’s drawing back only to fuck his hips forwards, “Hnnn– and now I get to see how you coat my cock, such a messy fucking thing.”
Toji’s hips falter at how your cunt sucks him in, so greedy and sopping wet that it’s making his head spin. He can’t tell if it’s been too long or if you’ve got the best pussy he’s ever fucked but it’s probably somewhere in between and he can’t be bothered to think too hard about it right now.
“Is it– hah– is it nearly in?” You whine back at him, not sure how much more of him you can fit.
He’s steadily rocking his cock into you, filling you more each time he thrusts forward, “Not– not quite.”
Maybe you should let him take the lead with this but you’re impatient and horny and he’s taking too long and you just want him so deep inside you that you feel him in your guts. So, in your fuzzy brain, you decide it’s a good idea to fuck your hips back as he moves forward. He bottoms out, his pelvis slapping into your ass but you’re left breathless, squirming as you grapple with how full of him you are.
“Oh my God– what– why are you so– hng– why are you big?” Tears spring to the corners of your eyes, feeling so completely overwhelmed. Pussy twitching around him as your legs shake.
He can’t believe you’d done that, letting out a long-drawn-out groan like he’d been gut punched, “Fuck– greedy fucking thing, you couldn’t– hnn– couldn’t wait for it? Was trying to take it easy on you and your tight little hole.”
His cock is jerking violently inside you, so unbelievably turned on. Your cunt snug around his dick nearly has him believing this is his heaven and you’re his own personal angel. He’d take it for truth if the sight of your hole stretched around him weren’t so sinful, your panties tugged to the side and soaked.
His voice is strained when he checks in, “You good, doll?”
“Mhm, yeah I– mmph– I’m good,” you’re giving him the go ahead, punctuating your words with your hips wiggling back into him. It almost knocks him out, seeing the way your ass jiggles.
His hands are gripping your hips tight, holding you still as he draws back. His first thrust ruthless, forcing you forward, brain taking a second to realise that the loud moan reverberating in the room was you.
“You’re gonna be the second death of me,” he says through stifled grunts.
You are completely lacking in any kind of retort to throw back at him, only able to dumbly hum at him so he knows you heard him. The way he’s driving his dick into you has you twitching and scratching at the lid of the washer, almost embarrassed by how drunk on his cock you are.
There are so many thoughts in your head and also none at all, “Toji, it feels so– oh!– feels so good– I can’t–”
“You’re doing so good, taking it all so well,” he sounds wrecked, words breaking off at the end. “Pussy so fucking– ffuck– so creamy– ohhh–”
Toji’s eyes stay locked on how you take him, chest fluttering at how he’s fucked you open. Cock drenched in your slick, dripping down your legs. So relentless in his pursuit that he just knows your ass is gonna hurt tomorrow from the consistent smack! smack! Of his pelvis slapping into you. Not even a question of if his finger marks will be imprinted onto your hips, the memory of him fucking you so well something he’s not going to let you forget.
He finally has you full and squirming under him, he’s not going to let it be a forgettable experience. Determined to fuck you so good that you’re begging him to do it all over again. He already wasn’t going to let you go but especially not now, not when having you feels this fucking divine. The borderline obsession he feels for you growing by the second, fuelled by how pliant you are for him.
All his thoughts are coming a million miles a second, all of them about you and how bad he’s wanted you, how ecstatic he is that he’s finally balls deep inside you. “You’re so perfect, feel so– hnng– feel so perfect–”
“Careful Toji– hah– I might think you like me,” you joke at him.
The smirk he’s wearing can be felt even though you can’t see him, his laugh short, “Oh I fucking looove you, pretty thing. You’re never getting rid of me.”
You don’t know if that confession is one you can take seriously or if he’s just severely pussy drunk but its effect on you doesn’t change, your cunt clamping down around him as your chest stutters. The tears you had been holding back finally slipping down your cheeks, so overwhelmed you’re seeing stars, hell, you might be hearing things.
His hand reaches to your face and squishes your cheeks between his thumb and fingers, pulling you back to him, your back arching lewdly for him. His tongue licking at the tears tracking down your face, “Crying over my dick, doll?” His words are laced with a sickening kind of affection for you, “So sweet for me.”
His other hand grabs at the bend of your knee, pulling it up. Despite your shaky hands still resting on the washer, all your weight is basically being supported by him. Your head falls back onto his chest He uses the access to kiss you messily, tongue licking at yours, swallowing down the moans you let out.
Still, his hips drill into you, never letting up for even a second. Obscene squelching sounds of him fucking your gooey cunt filling the room, followed by the sharp slaps of skin hitting skin. Your stomach is pulling taut, getting so fucking close to finishing, vision blurred by all the tears in your waterline.
“Don’t fight it,” he murmurs into your skin, encouraging you, “Let it– fuck!– let it happen.”
“Feels– feels too– ah!– it feels different,” it feels too good, too much, “You need to– need to stop, it doesn’t feel right.”
It sounds like he gets excited, not even a little concerned, “You’re doing so good, doll.”
“It’s not right–”
“–It’s fine,” he tries to offer comfort, “Trust me.”
Your legs shake violently, the build-up of your orgasm foreign and like it might have you passing out. As different as it feels, you trust him and let it happen, let yourself get fucked over the edge and into bliss. Your orgasm rips through you, moans tumbling freely and loudly, your body shaking from the force of it. Temporarily it feels like you lose sight, unseeing but feeling your cold tears against your hot cheeks.
Cunt clenching down, hard, on his dick, coating him completely in your cum. Body twitching with the shocks of your orgasm, head full and spinning. With the amount of blood rushing in your ears, you can’t hear what he’s saying. Only after a few moments have passed are you able to begin barley making out what he’s saying.
“Fffuck– that’s it, look at that,” Toji can’t hide the absolute pleasure in his voice even if he tried to, completely ecstatic at the sight before him.
You’re breathless and limp, letting him hold your lower half up, head lolling against his chest. Able to feel the vibrations of his moans against you, in a way it’s soothing to you.
“Doll, look down,” he prompts, hand guiding you down.
You whine in protest but look down anyways, an absolute mess everywhere. Lower halves drenched after your orgasm. “Oh my–” when he lets go of your cheeks, your head flops back onto his chest, head spinning.
“Hah– squirted everywhere,” he smiles into your skin, “All for me– hnn–”
He’s in love with the fact he’s managed to get you to cum like that without even really trying, his ego getting a boost he surely didn’t need. His own orgasm so close it bites at his skin, his hand gripping your thigh tight, pulling at your flesh. Free hand sliding under your shirt and grabbing at your breast, shamelessly groping you.
Shudders wracking his body as he cums suddenly, almost taken off guard by how quickly it happens. Cock twitching as he dumps his seed deep inside you, taking a moment to breathe before pulling back slowly, watching as his dick leaves you covered in both your orgasms.
Carefully, he places your leg back down on the ground, leaving you to stand on your own only for your legs to wobble and almost give out under you. If Toji hadn’t been right behind you, you would’ve fallen to the floor. He pulls your panties back into place before hoisting you up onto the washing machine, letting you sit while he puts his dick back into his pants.
You watch him move, all dazed and fucked out, pleasantly placated. His eyes meeting yours when he’s fully clothed, a big smile spreading across his face when he sees the mess he’s made of you.
Leaning in towards you, he asks, “Still got that big fat crush on me?”
“Uhm… I don’t know…” you pretend to think about it, like you don’t know if you like him or not.
He gives you a quick and soft kiss, “How about now?”
“I think… maybe,” you smile lazily at him.
His brow raises, “Maybe?”
“Yeah… definitely maybe still have a big fat crush on you,” you nod once, sure.
He’s grinning when he sighs, “You’re unbearable.”
“That’s my line,” you retort.
You’re both playing dumb but you both know you got it bad for each other and Toji is not going to let you get away with avoiding him again. Not after he’s gotten a taste of you.
𝐀/𝐍: this took longer than what i said it would and i'm sorry for that but i also was only planning for this to be a drabble... i have issues ToT anyways !! i hope you enjoyed !! happy almost halloween !!
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#visionwrites#toji x reader#toji x reader smut#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji x reader smut#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x reader smut#toji smut#toji fushiguro smut#fushiguro toji smut#jjk x reader smut#jjk smut#toji x you#toji x you smut#toji fushiguro x you smut#toji fushiguro x you#fushiguro toji x you#fushiguro toji x you smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen smut
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↪streamer!ellie headcannons
m.list
↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ her setup isn't the cleanest, old soda cans taking up most of the room... her stream can always spot one in the corner of the screen. One day, it's an old pepsi can, and another day, it's an old sprite can.
↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ type of person to play roblox games on her stream (especially the scary ones) in her words roblox games are the types of games LEGENDS play
↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ wifi quality is ASS her fans always wonder how tf she's able to stream, like you're watching the screen and suddenly it freezes before resuming and she's not even on screen anymore (she went to get some snacks)
↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ cringest person ever, but hey, at least she's free
↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ when she first started streaming no one knew how she looked like and it wasn't because she didn't show her face it was because her camera quality was so fucking bad to the point no one could clearly see her (but her voice would always go viral)once she did get a new camera her chat went CRAZY which really confused her
"okay chat! so my old ass uncle got me a new camera so how we looking!" ellie said with a stupid goofy grin on her face as she made sure the camera was straight, she than sat down as she looked at the chat.
"uh chat..what's happening- why are you guys acting like you've never seen my face before.." the auburn girl asked quietly in confusion and slightly concerned as she looked at the comments from her stream.
@abczoobys: ZOO WEE MAMA GURL UR FINEEEE
@lesbodotcom: omg we can actually see ypuuuu
@lesbinsmtime:can ur gf fight?
@bigDINAenergy: finally you got rid of that crusty grainy ass camera
@cybergurk67:GURL UR FINEEEEEE
@calokuchis: is that a strap in the back?
@nosoundwhere5:replying to @lesbinstime yk damn well this ho don't get bitches 🤣🤣
"DINA SHUT UP!" ellie yelled in defense for her old, well beloved camera with her voice cracking in the process "OH MY GOD GUYS WAS MY CAMERA THAT BAD?????"
↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ her headset can't even fit on her head for some odd reason, literally looks like the top is floating which her chat always points out but she just says in defense while touching it "guys it's literally supposed to be like this" with a little stupid grin
↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ would stop the game to take little breaks and happily show the chat a new t-shirt she got with a stupid slogan "yo chat i got a new shirt- this shit is fireee"
↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ sometimes she accidentally streams without turning on her other camera so the stream can't see what she's playing, it would literally just be her face in the camera and that's it and the chat is just confused cause they can't see what game she's playing.
"BRO BRO BRO HES CHASING ME CHAT CHAT DO YALL SEE THAT?! HES RIGHT BEHIND ME!" ellie yelled as she continuously hopped in her chair (lol??)
@sonicfasten: wtf
@user183838: can yall see what she's playing?
@usernma5e: her mic sounds horrible 😭
@gayhotqueen: this dumb bitch....
↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ choice based games are her worst enemy, her chat genuinely got scared when she said that her next game she was gonna play was Detroit Become Human
↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ swear she would literally discuss the choice with her chat and still end up picking the wrong answer
"GUYS GUYS I DIDN'T MEAN TO CLICK THAT WHAT THE FUCK!" ellie yelled in panic as she tried to click buttons on her controller to try to go back and start over
@sonicgam1ng: HES GONNA DIE NOW
@user6171781: how'd she manage to fuck this up
↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ she sucke at shooting games, too, but claims she's actually really good at them (she's ass) "chat I'm about to go ham" she claims as she dramatically cracks her knuckels
"chat I swear I'm usually good at this game- im just nervous!"
@elliesgurls: bruh who tf told her to play this again...
@userhshh5: ..put the fries in the bag..
@sonicgoes: NEVER let her touch this game AGAIN
@girlsgoceazy4lesbians: SHES ACTUALLY SO ASSCHEEKS LMFAO
↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ if she's playing a game and that involves a mic and hears a girl she'd tried to rizz them up "ohmygod is that a girl- chat I'm about to rizz her up" she says rubbing both her hands together, pretending to be nonchalant when in reality she's scared
@lizlivesuh: please don't ellie..
@cyberprinces6s: girl she don't want u
"hey what's ur name pret- OH MY GOD" ellie began to say before her voice cracked so BADLY she immediately rushed to leave the game as she repeated "chat that was so embarrassing that was embarrassing OH MY god"
↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ she has a bruise on her forehead for constantly banging her head on her mic in front of her when she gets jumpscared by a scary game
↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ one time joel popped up into her live chat cause a fan found his facebook and gave him a link to her twitch account, which happened to be unfortunate for her cause the time he commented was when she was playing a not so pg game
"guys i think we about to get naked right now i don't knowwwwwww" ellie exclaimed while shaking her head as she looked in the chat, her happy expression quickly faded as her she caught sight of the chat.
@username44: GUYS IS THAT REALLY ELLIES DAD?!
@boombox66: NO FUCKING WAY???
@user678889: BRO???
@lesbinsimisgpod: ELLIE UR DAD 😭😭
"GUYS WHOS DAD?!?" ellie yelled while pausing the game, her mouth halfway open as she looked through the chat in utter confusion
@joelmiller8: hey kiddo, I don't think you should be playing these types of games 🫶 but if it makes you happy
@joelmiller8: also you left your laundry out should I put it in the washer?
"WHAT THE FUCK, WHAT THE FUCK JOEL GET OUT!" the chat is all putting laughing emoji's and tagging joel in random post and comments....(joel recieved over 100 friend request after this😭..)
↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ ever since roblox added the mic feature NO ONE could separate her from it, trust ellie WILL argue with children on any roblox game.
"that's why your mic sounds like your drowning!" the random kid in the game said as he ran up to ellie's ugly ass avatar, ellie literally has no chill "that's why i was drowning in your mom last night OUUUU YEAH HOE!"
@sonicrisen: HELLOOO???
@gogobro67: THAT'S A CHILD ELLIE 😭😭
@username6o7:BRO HELP I CANT STOPP ELLIE
this is literally her
#ellie williams#ellie x reader#ellie williams headcanons#ellie williams smut#ellie williams tlou2#tlou ellie#ellie the last of us#ellie fanfic#gamer ellie#streamer ellie#ellie tlou#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams the last of us#ellie willams x reader#ellie williams fic
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Bakugou cries in front of you, and you only.
In the first few months of your relationship he keeps up a hard and cold barrier, of course getting his usual hot-headed self when someone even slightly irritates him, but you calm him down eventually.
It's not like he has no emotions other than anger, he just had difficulty showing them, even if he really really wants to, he can't.
So when he's hurt one of his friends greatly, he slams the door of his bedroom, laying on his back, on his bed. He even locked the door for good measures, but you had a key anyway. It's not like he couldn't keep you out anyway.
It's when his eyes start to water and he can feel a lump stuck in his throat, it's when he messages you. He normally doesn't use punctuation in his texts, but it's when he's upset he does.
'Come here.'
That's all he messages, even if you haven't messaged him back, he knows you've seen it, or you've heard it from someone that he's slammed his door.
In his past he used to cry a lot too, but only at home and when his mum or dad was with him. His mum would comfort him the best she could, after all she did care about him. Even if he was a bit of a jerk to her sometimes.
She would wrap him in her arms and squeeze him tightly, pecking his forehead softly, running a hand through his hair. Her words would be a lot softer than her usual yelling behaviour.
When he burnt his hands from using his quirk too much she would scold him before comforting him, tending to his wounds before sending him off so she can get back to whatever she was doing before.
"Katsuki?" Your voice sounds out into his pitch black room, the hallway light shining underneath the small crack of the door. Knocking quietly, and trying the knob, it didn't move at all.
The doorknob clicks and you can only just see inside of his room, pushing the door open gently, Katsuki was already sitting back down on his bed, looking away from you. The door clicks closed when you push it back. Leaving the room in darkness again.
All you can hear is the small sniffling coming from him, your steps quickly shift to the foot of his bed. Crawling towards him and giving him a hug, bringing his head to your chest and whispering to him.
"What's the matter, what's got you so upset babe?" Your soft words make him settle into your skin instantly, a small patch on your shirt becoming wet with his tears.
His voice was still harsh as he spoke, but his tears and upset state made his speech croaky when he spoke. "I fucked up babe... M' a shit friend."
"Don't talk down to yourself."
Your words were still soft as you lifted his face and squeezed his cheeks, looking into his tear-stained gaze. He hides his face in your neck and lays down on his back. Bringing you with him and you huff a strained groan, rubbing his hair and breathing in his scent.
His body shudders against yours and your heart aches for him, he squeezes you tighter before letting you lay down next to him, wiping his tears and looking up at his ceiling. Still avoiding eye contact with you.
Sitting up and tying your hair back into a low bun. Your legs cross and you stare at him in silence for a good minute or two.
"I said something about Shitty Hair's past. When he told me. I‐" His voice cuts off as he breathes down the lump in his throat. "I told him it was stupid to think like that."
You stay silent, not wanting to say anything that might anger or upset him more, all you did was nod to his words.
His eyes well up again, before rubbing his eyes with his hands and sobbing again, his hands and arms covering his face so you couldn't see him like that. He hated it when you saw him cry anyway, knowing you didn't mind but the embarrassment in the near future got to him.
Sliding next to his head, you run a hand through his hair and stay quiet. He was quiet, which was unusual of him. But this was a different circumstance, on that you have seen before but never really shown.
You knew your words would comfort him but wouldn't help with the situation, so you sit there and let him cry it out.
Even if he would end up sorting it out he probably wouldn't apologise, or at least give a shit apology. He would go back to you and fall asleep in your arms, asking if he fucked up anymore, to which you would reply that time would tell.
God he hated when you did that.
This was completely based off an image I saw on pinterest, its not the best work I've done but I do have more planned in the future (・ε・` )
Now officially edited and proofread
Should I make this a story?
#mha headcanons#mha#mha x reader#mha fluff#mha x y/n#mha x you#mha angst#bnha bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo x reader#mha bakugou#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki#bnha bakugou#mha bakugo katsuki#mha bakugo x reader
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just pretend(?)
danielle marsh x fem!reader ; angst, fluff
synopsis: your coworker can’t seem to fall out of love with you so you convince your best friend to fake date you. sometimes the “fake” seems a little too real.
warnings: PINING!!! ; danielle is touchy and wonderful and reader is a mess ; kinda all over the place?? I'm also a bit iffy ab the pacing on this one ; bit of angst near the end ; alcohol ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread… none of my fics are…
a/n: this is based off my life rn bc my friend and i r literally fake dating so my coworker can stop being in love w me and i just HAD to turn this into a fic like what (but most of this is exaggerated ofc esp the whole coworker thing I made her a little over the top on purpose for the plotLOL)
"absolutely not." hanni looks disgusted, almost appalled with that stupid expression on her face. “you’re crazy.”
"please, i'll pay you." you beg, clasping your hands together and giving her your best puppy eyes.
"you're going to scare the hoes away... no, no, and no.”
"what ‘hoes’ hanni? when is the last time you've talked to a girl." you groan and pinch the bridge of your nose.
she sticks her tongue out at you, then responds, “you wouldn’t know…”
“dumbass the only reason i’m begging is because women do want me. please, it’s not going to be serious or anything—“
“i don’t care, the answer is no. ask someone else!”
you’re currently perched on the edge of your best friend's bed, practically begging for help. you seem to have a knack for attracting the strangest types of people, and this time, it’s your coworker who’s got severe attachment issues and an unhealthy level of codependency. all you wanted was a paycheck and simplicity, but now you find yourself in a situation you never asked for.
your best friend groans again, “you and your flirting… it gets you into this shit time and time again and the way you act… you know what you’re doing.”
“what?”
“shut up, you act gay and you know people fall for that. i’m not gonna help you because you want to be an asshole, if you could just be normal for once—“
“fuck you.” you flop onto her bed, shutting your eyes and rubbing your face. “i’m just nice and it’s fun to flirt! it’s nothing. i flirt with my friends and you all the time, they’re fine with it.”
“that’s because they’re straight, y/n. gay people are very vulnerable – except me.”
“you would know.” you retort, earning a glare from hanni. “who the hell do i ask then?”
“haerin?”
“she wouldn’t.”
“yunjin?”
“we don’t match, plus, she dates around.”
“sakura?”
“edating someone right now, some girl in france?”
“the hell?”
“i know.” you sigh louder and hanni just looks at you with slight, playful disgust. “what do i do.” you flop your hands onto the mattress and stare up. “dude, she’s too obsessed, i’m flattered because i mean, maybe i’m attractive and whatnot but this is just–”
“--delusion at its peak.” hanni clicks her tongue, now smiling at you; an idea pops up in your best friend's big head. you turn to face her, raising a brow. “how about dani? she’s literally perfect.”
danielle marsh is perfect, that’s the problem.
she’s a biology major whose ipad pro notes are so neat and pleasing to the eye that they genuinely keep you awake at night – most of it being because you’re leeching off her, but they’re so neat it really has you thinking how she does it all.
to make things even more bewildering (and impressive), she’s one of two people you know – you’re unsure whether your cousin hyein counts, high school is nothing compared to what you endure – who manages to get at least eight hours of sleep daily. in contrast, everyone else in your circle, including yourself, is barely hanging on by a thread.
yet, danielle seems to have cracked the code. she even finds time to volunteer at the library where she works, making you wonder if she’s some sort of extraordinary being. her ability to balance everything so effortlessly leaves you in awe, often questioning if she’s even real considering how remarkable she is.
the worst part is that she’s your best friend, right after hanni, and the person you’ve been crushing on since your first semester of university.
it’s impossible not to have a crush on her—she’s gorgeous, sweet, and embodies everything you could ever want and more. she’s captivating, and every time you see her she flashes that stupid, adorable smile that makes your heart do a flip regardless of how many times you’ve convinced yourself that she’s unattainable and that there’s no way and that you don’t even like her and–
“i couldn’t.” you shut hanni down, quick. “she’s… you know.”
hanni furrows both brows, turning her head. “she’s what?”
“you know.” you make some strange gesture with your hands that only confuse hanni further.
“i don’t, just fake date her.”
“she wouldn’t agree.”
“sure she would, let me call her!”
you shoot up and look at hanni with an expression that screams ‘are you out of your mind?’ as she finds danielle’s contact on her phone.
before you can stop her, you hear a ringing sound and feel your body give up. hanni grins at you when danielle picks up five seconds later, both of you hearing a friendly, “hi!” as you back away from her.
“hey mo dani!” hanni greets, giving you a shit eating smirk. “miss l/n has a question for you.”
“she’s with you?” danielle’s voice is sweet like honey even from the phone. “hi!”
“hey!” you greet a little awkwardly, glaring at hanni.
“y/n was wondering if you could date her.”
eyes widening, you leap and grab the phone from hanni immediately, sputtering out jumbles of words nervously, “n-no! i mean, yeah… but not for real.”
“oh,” you hear danielle respond lowly from the end of the phone. “wait, i’m confused.”
hanni watches you close your eyes tightly, clearly flustered and thrown off by her little antics.
“y/n came over to ask me to date her, not actually, but just like, pretend.” hanni explains, “her coworker is still in love with her.”
“sarah?” you hear from the other end of the phone. “i thought you rejected her like, three months ago.”
“i did, but she’s still… ugh.” you flop onto the bed again and danielle hears hanni laughing in the background. “she’s still stuck on me i think, i don’t know, she’s been so…”
“if it’ll stop bothering you then i’ll help!”
“you will?” you respond, shocked. hanni mouths an i told you, then gets shoved.
“yeah! i don’t want my best friend being so bothered, it must make you uncomfy too, right? working with someone who likes you?”
you start to wonder if danielle would be uncomfortable in a similar situation, maybe in one where she’s friends with someone who likes her, but she’s unaware of that. you shake your head, clearing your mind and staying present.
“kind of, it’s just… extra stress.”
“okay, then let’s date!” she beams, you can picture her eyes scrunching and smile growing. you want to die (affectionate) just thinking of it. “this should be fun!”
“thanks for helping out dani, thanks so much. i’ll let you be, okay? gotta go um… run errands.”
“alright! just text me, bye, love you.” the call ends and you sigh again, feeling yourself sink deeper into hanni’s sheets.
hanni is very much your mortal enemy, she still doesn’t know why you’re so distraught because of danielle. whatever the reason may be, it makes her cackle next to you.
–
it’s nine in the morning, you didn’t have time to pregame the lecture on microbiology with at least three shots of espresso, and you’re yawning as you leave the room.
you hear your name being called out and turn to see no one other than the feeling of hot chocolate on a cold, snowy day turned into a person walking towards you – danielle.
“hey! hi.” she greets, smiling wide. her hair is clipped up and small strands of her hair stick out cutely. “hey baby.”
you almost choke. “what?”
“did you forget we’re dating now?”
“oh.” dating, but is it even that if it’s not real? “um, hey babe?” it comes out uncertain and danielle laughs.
“wow, you suck at this – it’s okay, we’ll work on it.” she giggles, then links her arms with you. “let’s go get coffee, i need it in my system right now. oh my god, it’s our first date!”
laughing to hopefully fade away all signs of being flustered to oblivion, you tighten your arm that’s locked with hers. “right, yeah.”
you’re going on a ‘date’ with the prettiest girl on campus, she’s paying for your iced americano with oat milk splashed into it, and she’s smiling at you like you’re laughter in the rain. this can’t be good for you, it can’t be — it’s not. you wonder whether this will be worth it in the end because your coworker doesn’t even know about any of it.
(yet.)
–
before your next shift with your delusional coworker, you and danielle have already conjured up a storyline and backstory for your whole arrangement.
you two conversed for an hour after walking towards the park near her apartment and sitting down next to each other on the swings like kids. danielle was giggling and you were smiling at how charming she looked. unfortunately, you found yourself falling even harder for her just from making up the whole fake story.
danielle suggested keeping it simple, but cute: you two met at the library she worked at, you found her cute and exchanged numbers, went on a few dates, and have been girlfriends for nearly two months.
“but i literally told sarah that i wasn’t looking for anything.” you explain, sighing as you kick the mulch on the ground. that’s what you had said, but what you meant was that you’ve been looking for danielle the whole time. “she won’t believe it.”
“well,” danielle gives you a cheeky look and giggles. “i managed to charm you in a way that pushed that whole idea aside. that’s not too unbelievable, right?” she winks at you and you feel your heart stop momentarily.
you scoff playfully and snicker, “oh shut up.”
“it’s part of the story! are you saying i have no charm…”
she has too much charm.
“dani, you’re such a dork.”
“a dork that caught your heart! i think this story is perfect.”
pushing aside the slight ache in your heart and the flush in your cheeks, the two of you formulate a first date story: you took her out bowling, where you lost terribly to her (danielle insisted this detail had to be included), and then you both had dessert together at your place.
it’s not a terrible story, not at all. even hanni would be impressed, but you’re not going to tell her because she’d tease you both relentlessly, and you’re not sure your heart could handle that.
–
danielle walks you into work holding your hand, your coworker, sarah, watches the whole thing.
a pretty girl (pretty is an understatement in your opinion) smiles at you while walking you in, she’s telling you about the little kids she read to the other day and you can’t help but marvel at the excitement coursing through her.
she drops you off near the register right before the small ‘employees only’ sign, then holds both of your hands and looks at you like you’re a flower that’s just bloomed beautifully.
she pauses, observing you closely, then smiles wider. “okay, i’ll get going sweetheart.” the pet name makes you swallow subtly. “have fun at work!”
she takes her hands away from yours, making your skin feel a little colder. “bye, see you.”
danielle glances at your coworker, who’s looking at her with something mixed with confusion, anger, and a hint of disgust. she then looks back at you – a better sight in her opinion – smiling and waving once more before walking away.
you stay there, frozen for a few seconds, before walking behind the counter and setting your bag down.
as you grab your apron, you catch sarah in your peripheral and turn to greet her. “oh, hey.”
“who was that?” she asks immediately. “what’s up with the ‘sweetheart?’”
you grin as while tightening the lace of your apron, then respond, “my girlfriend.” and it feels wonderful rolling off your tongue.
“what? i thought you didn’t want anything?”
“you still in love with me or something?”
she feels her throat dry as she looks at you pat down your apron. “w-what?” she stutters, shaking her head. “no, why would i be…” her tone isn’t convincing, and neither is she when she adds, “it’s just… what’s with the change of heart?”
“she’s really charming,” the thought of danielle begging you to mention that makes you blush. “i like her a lot.”
sarah fights back a frown, instead, her lips twitch into a forced smile as she walks past you to tend to a customer.
–
danielle picks you up from work just to tighten the knot, and sarah also witnesses all of it.
both you and your coworker get off at closing, and after locking the doors, you run into danielle.
she’s standing outside in a baby tee and jeans, a cap perched jauntily on her head. the moment she sees you, her face lights up into a pretty smile, and you instinctively return it. she rushes over, wrapping her arms around you in a warm hug. as she pulls back, she scans you with a playful yet affectionate gaze, her eyes lingering on you with a mixture of admiration and curiosity.
“sweetheart! i missed you.”
“i missed you too dani– baby…” you mutter the last part shyly, making danielle giggle. “you came? it’s late.”
“i wanted to pick you up, can your girlfriend not do that?”
it still sends a shiver down your spine – hearing danielle call you that. you rub the back of your neck and look away nervously, then respond, “of course not, i’m just surprised.”
sarah looks at the two of you, scoffing under her breath. danielle hears it, turning to look at her and grin, raising her brows along with it before meeting you again. she places a hand on your shoulder, then mumbles, “well, hanni called us over, i wanted to scoop you.”
“ohhh,” it makes sense now, she wouldn’t willingly pick you up just because of the whole ‘fake dating’ thing, there had to be a motive. “alright. i can drive? if you’d like, you know. you must be tired from work too.”
“aw, you’d do that?”
“i um,” you cough, avoiding her eyes again because she’s making you feel all flustered without doing much. “yeah, it’s nothing… baby…”
she grabs your hand, fingers intertwining before dragging you along to her small suv, then handing you her keys.
your coworker groans now that you two are further, narrowing her eyes at danielle when she turns back not so subtly to make sure sarah is looking. any normal person would back off, getting the hint that the person they want is unavailable, but sarah sees it as a challenge, somehow.
there’s nothing she can’t achieve when she puts her mind to it, that’s her mindset.
you’re oblivious to how insane she is, too clouded with how touchy and giggly danielle is after the whole interaction when teh two of you get in the car.
–
danielle sits besides you on hanni’s couch, leaning against you a bit. “yeah, she gave me a glare, it was kind of funny.”
“pftt– i guess it’s working then?” hanni asks, walking over to hand you two juice from her fridge. danielle takes it happily and it makes you smile a little.
“i hope so.” you sip on your peach juice. “but she’s like, clinically insane.”
“is she?” danielle questions, tilting her head as her hand finds its way to your bicep. you blush.
“dude, she was crazy.” hanni rubs her temple. “like, oh my god, she was going insane for a good while because y/n didn’t want her like that. i saw their messages and–”
“okay i’ll tell the story thank you.” you scoff. “she’s really competitive, and i guess new to romance? considering how she reacted i don’t know, she’s very…”
“sensitive?” danielle asks – you shake your head.
“i mean no, but kind of. she would get jealous over me really easily and was kind of codependent, like everything i do affects her or something. i’d just go on my day, but she’d always be so reliant on me and text me so often and i just… it’s so much.”
“ah, i see. how long has it been since you rejected her?”
“a few months. i thought she stopped liking me since it’s been so long, but lately there’s been tension and she’s looking at me how she used to…” hanni listens closely as she watches you rub your forehead, looking a little distraught. “i just, oh my god she has terrible attachment issues it’s concerning. the only thing i could think of was pretending to date someone.”
danielle nods in understanding.
“yeah, one time i went to see y/n at work and she looked so like… hostile. that’s not normal, we’re visibly friends.” hanni adds.
you know the exact afternoon that it happened, what hanni mentioned that is.
she had pulled up to drop something off, and you teasingly flirted with her, hugging her as thanks. afterward, you rang up one of her orders and played with her fingers, a little habit you had developed to annoy her. despite the evident look of disgust and annoyance on hanni’s face, your coworker—who allegedly liked you a bit too much—looked like hanni had just slapped you in the face or spat at you.
long story short, hanni glanced over to see the coworker glaring at her menacingly. in response, hanni poked at you once more before hurrying out with a latte in her hand, confused and slightly terrified.
“yeah she’s… got a bitch face.”
“it’s not normal to glare at people that simply interact with your coworker…” danielle mumbles. “i’m sorry to hear that.”
you wave your hand, giggling lightly. “it’s nothing, really. i mean, i just don’t want her to be so obsessed and stuck on me, i think us pretending to date should tame the fire.”
pretending.
the word makes both you and danielle tense up.
–
you clock in again, greeting sarah.
she smiles brightly at you, waving and you have to make a little gesture to remind her there’s a customer in line. sarah turns away bashfully, then takes the man’s order with a hint of attitude. you’re not very fond of that.
he orders an americano, so you immediately get to work, weighing out grinds of espresso, tamping it down, and pulling two shots. as you do so, sarah pulls up next to you and nudges your shoulder.
“hey,”
“hi.” you respond, not looking up from the cup in your hand. “did you need something?”
“that t-shirt looks good on you, have you been working out?”
you feel uneasy the moment she says it, swallowing a lump in your throat. you pour the two shots over the hot water and force a response, “thanks, and um, no.” before calling out the order.
sarah continues to watch you closely as you throw away the used espresso, then says, “your girlfriend didn’t drop you?”
“she’s working.”
“right. i’d find a way to drop off my girlfriend anytime that i could.”
“good for you?” you look her in the eye again, clenching your jaw.
“you don’t post her much on your socials either, are you guys really a thing?”
fuck.
you scoff, “what kind of question is that? of course… i just… don’t post much. we’re still kind of new to this.”
“right, she’s not even your lockscreen.”
“i’m going to grab some beans from the back,” you interrupt, redirecting the conversation away from the topic of your alleged girlfriend. sarah narrows her eyes at you as you turn away from her, stepping away and disappearing towards the storage area.
once you’re alone, you sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling the weight of the strange interrogation settle on you. there was an unmistakable hostility in sarah’s tone, a sharp edge that cut through the air. hanni’s right, she always is. the mere thought of enduring six more hours with sarah makes you want to crawl into a hole. her jealousy is palpable, and it eats away at you, gnawing at your nerves.
you pull out your phone and quickly dial danielle, pacing back and forth as you wait for her to pick up.
“hello?” she responds less than ten seconds later. “what’s up?”
“she’s catching on, kind of. i think she’s jealous.”
“sarah?”
“yes.” you groan, then lean your back against the wall. “i can’t work like this.”
“i’ll come over? do you need me to?”
“no, but can we meet after? i think we need to be more public, if that’s okay.”
you hear her confusion through the phone. “what? public?”
“like, soft launch or something. i just need to make it obvious that i’m quote on quote dating someone – you. and we need a lockscreen together.”
a giggle is heard on the other end of the line, “oh wow.” danielle mumbles teasingly, “this is pretty serious.”
“i hope i die.”
“aw, don’t say that babe. just come over to the library after, okay? good luck on your shift! i have to clock in soon too.”
“can we meet at my place?”
“anything is fine, that’s alright.”
“i literally owe you my first born, dani.”
“it’s nothing, this is quite entertaining.” she says, and you smile with the phone at your ear. “call me later, okay? send me updates.”
“right, yeah.” you almost whisper, “thank you.”
“it’s nothing, sweetheart.” her laugh is infused into the sentence, making your chest burn.
–
“this is so dumb.”
you are so dumb. this isn’t helping your case.
hanni and minji are fighting back laughter while you try to naturally rest your hand on danielles knuckles. you’re stiff and it looks anything but natural.
the angle you take the picture at makes it look awkward, and the picture’s quality sucks too.
“just relax.” danielle says, then holds your hand instead. “here, let me take the picture.”
you’re trying to keep your cool while minji and hanni watch and danielle, the prettiest girl you know, holds your hand and scoots closer to you in order to ‘soft launch’ your fraud of a relationship. her hand is nice in yours, her skin is soft, and she’s so close you can smell the vanilla fragrance she uses.
danielle snaps a quick picture, then the rest of the bunch – including you – scoot over to look at the picture.
“well would you look at that! it’s perfect.” danielle beams, grinning at her work. “post that one.”
“holy shit.” minji says in awe. “no yeah, you could fool me with that.”
“anyone could fool you, dumbass.” you snicker, looking up at her and smirking.
“i hate you.”
“oh, i guess you don’t want free food from my work…?”
minji groans, making you laugh.
danielle’s hand is still in yours, you don’t fully register it until you realize you need both hands to post a picture on your instagram story. she seems a bit disappointed when you let go, though you barely notice – and even if you did, you might just chalk it up to your imagination.
it's fun, no doubt about it. yet, you can’t help but wonder what it would be like to take pictures of you and danielle that aren’t staged or orchestrated. you long for authenticity, capturing moments that are mundane and candid.
the thought lingers in your mind the whole time, even as you pose with your back to the camera, pretending to cook alongside danielle. it's all set up and artificial, every movement planned out, yet danielle starts giggling and leaning into you – a spontaneous gesture not part of your last-minute brainstorming.
her laughter is genuine, her touch warm, and it makes you wonder if maybe, just maybe, not everything is as fake as it seems.
–
you wake up from your nap and groan as your ringtone renders you awake. blindly, you slap your hand in every direction on the bed until you feel it under your other pillow. someone’s calling you, that’s all you can make out since there’s a red and green circle.
tiredly, you mumble, “hello?”
“hi! are you busy?” it’s danielle’s voice responding, shaking you awake.
“oh, um, no.” you say as you sit up slowly, rubbing your eyes and running a hand through your hair. “are you okay? did something happen?”
“i’m fine! i was just wondering if you were free. you sound tired, were you sleeping?”
“i just took a power nap that’s all. what was it that you need?”
“oh, sorry to wake you.”
“it’s fine, seriously.”
“well,” she starts, “i was just wondering if you wanted to go out together?”
“oh, me?”
you hear her giggle through the phone and smile softly. “i mean, i am calling y/n, aren’t i?”
“yeah, you are.”
“and i’m asking you, my girlfriend, to hangout. it’s like a date!”
“we’re not actually dating danielle, you don’t have to pretend when we’re calling and alone.” you say quietly, pursing your lips.
it’s not that you hate it, danielle being all lovely and playing the role of your girlfriend too well. the thing is, it feels like you’re getting led on, and the way she is just gives you false hope to something real.
danielle feels a little ache in her heart when you respond like that, but she pushes it away for the time being.
“i don’t mind it, it’s fun!” she beams. “anyway, there’s free ice cream downtown for couples, do you want to grab some?”
“is there? yeah, i’m down. do you want to take the metro?”
“that’s perfect, there’s probably so much traffic.”
“alright, i can scoop you and take us to the station in fifteen minutes, okay?”
“perfect.” she closes the conversation, and the call ends.
you flop down on the bed again, just for a moment. your eyes are fixated on the ceiling above as you breathe in, thinking about everything.
you and danielle aren’t dating, not for real. it’s just a show, a sham. she simply wants to hang out for free ice cream, nothing more. you know this. you set yourself up for this whole fake dating thing—well, kind of, considering hanni was the culprit behind this whole arrangement.
it’s already been over a month, and danielle doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest, treating the whole thing as no big deal. you must be insane; you can’t keep doing this knowing your feelings are growing and she most definitely doesn’t feel anything real. it’s just to benefit you, and she’s a great friend who’s willing to help you out. yet, each time you pretend, it gets harder to separate your act from reality.
despite the turmoil, you’re up and finding a change of clothes in order to make danielle happy. because even if she’s not your girlfriend, she’s your friend and you love her regardless.
(sometimes the love you have claws you from the inside.)
–
danielle clings to your arm the whole way down to the city. sometimes she clings a little tighter than usual, then goes silent, and it makes you breathe deeply.
it takes a few wrong turns and teasing to get to the icecream place, there’s already a long line with actual couples. you feel out of place in a way; there’s partners holding the other by the waist from behind, setting their heads on top of the others. a few are just holding hands or lingering close and you can just sense all the love and adoration in the air.
you swallow shallowly, tensing your jaw because danielle is close to you, but not because you two are something more than friends.
“wow, so many lovebirds.” she says in awe, gazing around.
“uh huh.” you feel her hand slide down your forearm, then her fingers intertwine with yours as she looks up at you. “hm?”
“to seal the deal.” she shrugs, smiling. “plus, your hands are big… and warm.”
“you have small hands.”
“perfect fit for yours.” she giggles playfully, making you do the same. “what flavors did you want? it’s two scoops for free.”
“you can pick both, i don’t mind.”
“what? c’mon, you should pick one.”
“no, you wanted ice cream. i’m just here to make you happy.” you admit, tightening your grip on her hand.
she starts to respond, but stops for a few seconds. you watch her look away bashfully, staring at the ground and grinning to herself. she shakes her head, then says, “you’re so lovely…”
“pfttt, i just want you to be happy, seriously.”
“you know,” she begins, looking at you again. “whoever manages to become your girlfriend would be real lucky.”
“oh.” your lips twitch into less of a smile and you pause for a moment. “maybe.”
“this fake dating thing is making me realize that you’re such girlfriend material.”
a small laugh stifles the tension and awkwardness in you, “thanks? you are too.”
“am i?”
“yeah.” you stare into her eyes, shes everything you could wish for in a person. “very.”
before danielle can respond, the line moves, and it’s time for the two of you to decide on two flavors. it takes a while to do so, with you declining the offer to chime in and pick a flavor you want, danielle was the one to invite you out anyway. but she looks at you with puppy eyes, pouts, then puts a hand on the side of your bicep and it makes you cave in.
the final choices are salted caramel and coffee.
danielle holds the cup in one hand, drags you away from the area littered with lovey dovey couples – some being too lovey, considering they can’t seem to get away from each other – and leads you blindly towards a small alley in a neighborhood until a bench comes into view. she pulls you towards it eagerly, making you laugh until you’re both sitting next to each other.
you frown a little as you look at the ice cream in the cup. “some of it is melted.”
“not all of it!” danielle beams, then scroops a spoonful of the coffee side – the flavor you ended up choosing. “you have the first taste.” she says, bringing it closer to your mouth.
“wait, you should have it.”
“too late,” she starts to move it in a circular motion, saying, “ahhh~” as she does so.
you scoff, then lean forward and all of it is in your mouth in one bite. danielle watches your eyes light up.
“it’s good.” you mutter, then grab the other spoon to scoop the other flavor. you mirror what danielle did before, making her laugh just as much. “open wiiiiide~”
“ahhh~”
you snicker before moving the spoon into her mouth, she closes it and smiles immediately, melting in place despite the ice cream being pretty cold.
the street lights make her look precious, highlighting the satisfaction on her face because of some simple ice cream she’d gotten for free. you want to see her this happy everyday and as much as you can.
a small hint of ice cream is on the corner of her lips, it urges you to bring your hand over and wipe it off with your thumb. danielle stops savoring the dessert, instead, focusing on you.
“sorry, there was… yeah.”
“mhm.” danielle says, staring at your lips. “it’s really good.”
“i can tell.” you turn away, feeling flustered when she looks at you like that. “let me try your flavor.”
the two of you continue to eat ice cream together, subconsciously scooting closer and closer as you share it. danielle’s head ends up on your shoulder when the cup is empty in your hand, silent in her place.
you don’t budge, mainly because she seems comfortable and you don’t mind ruining your posture a bit if it’s for her. she sighs contentedly, moving her hand over to hold yours in the midst of the moment, slotting together effortlessly. she doesn’t say anything, but you feel her lean into you a little more.
“you okay?”
“just happy.”
“ah,” you rub your thumb against her skin. “that’s good.”
“being with you makes me really happy.”
“being with you makes me happier.” you say softly, staring at your hands aligned seamlessly. “do you want to stay here for a bit longer?”
“please.”
“it’s getting late.”
“i know, just a bit longer.” danielle says.
just a bit longer. if only the whole arrangement could last forever, if only you two could be this close and warm for lightyears.
minutes pass, and neither of you move, lost in the comforting silence. the only shift comes when you turn your head to press a gentle kiss into her hair. danielle feels perfectly in place, her heart fluttering at the tender gesture. a soft smile spreads across her face, a silent acknowledgment of the moment's sweetness.
–
the night prior had to be a dream, it was too perfect. it was the realest you’ve felt with danielle, the closest to something romantic. it was even enough to consider that she felt the same, and you’d love to revel in that possibility, but you have to restock the beans and cups quickly before tending to the drinks.
there’s only thirty more minutes until your shift ends, it feels like eternity.
sarah catches you smiling to yourself throughout the shift, biting the inside of her lip. she’s filled with all too much: anger, jealously, dissapointment, and really just everything that makes her uneasy.
she still can’t believe it, you had gone on a whole tangent telling her you couldn’t be in a relationship and now you’re being a complete loser in front of her. she hates it, she wants it to be her that makes you smile randomly throughout the day.
what pisses her off more, and truly makes her lose all hope, is when you go from looking tired and drained to bubbly and smiley as soon as a familiar figure starts walking toward the counter.
she watches you check the time on the register, your smile widening because you can clock out and be with danielle, who’s waiting just across the counter. the change in your demeanor is undeniable, and it stings sarah to see the joy that danielle effortlessly brings out in you.
you walk over to danielle, reaching for her hand. “hey.”
“hi.” the way danielle says it makes your chest warm and sarah nearly gags in return.
what makes sarah's shoulders sink, her heart drop, and her frown deepen is when danielle suddenly kisses your cheek.
the shock is evident on your face as you stand frozen, your hand instinctively moving to hover over the spot where danielle's lips had just been. the tenderness of the moment is overwhelming, and sarah can't help but feel a profound sense of loss. the realization that your heart belongs entirely to danielle crushes any lingering hopes she had, leaving her to face the painful truth.
“w-what was that for?” you look over and make eye contact with sarah, who’s grimacing. “there’s um, you know… bystanders.”
“i missed you, so much. i couldn’t stop thinking about you.” danielle says simply, not bothering that sarah is the only one who’s witnessing this, and from a few feet away too. “do you want to get dinner?”
“it’s three in the afternoon silly.”
“well, anything is fine. we should study before we eat! i heard the module mr. lee assigned us was really helpful for…”
the rest of what danielle says doesn’t register in your coworker’s mind. she studies you closely, her frown deepening with each passing second. it’s painfully clear to her now—you’re genuinely in love with danielle, and there's nothing she can do to change that. the way you look at danielle, like a child seeing a rainbow for the first time, leaves no room for doubt.
it dawns on her that giving up is the only option, and she feels a pang of resignation settling in her chest.
–
nearly three months have passed and both of you have still been ‘pretending.’
neither of you acknowledge that it’s fake, not during the weekly dates, study sessions, and late night walks or movie nights that end up in the two of you falling asleep together. danielle doesn’t think twice when kissing your cheek here and there, even your knuckles when she thinks you’re asleep.
you figure that maybe it’s okay to kiss her cheek too sometimes because she’s her lips turn each time. and when you pick her up for weekly dates, she happily jumps into the passengers seat of your car as if it weren’t just a mutual agreement. sarah has already given up, considering she seems defeated, and you wonder if you should too.
you can’t tell if it’s just how danielle is, which eats you inside. everything feels all too real, and your feelings only grow more unbearable.
–
you shouldn’t have let jimin drag you out to minjeong’s party. she’s already left the moment you stepped into the house, she’s probably gotten a hold of a drink already.
jimin had noticed how deeply stressed you've been lately. your responses were slower, your shoulders seemed permanently slumped, and the stress was practically etched into your face. being one of your closest friends, jimin decided that it was time for a change. she was determined to get you out and help you relax, knowing how crucial it was for your well-being (and social life, to be completely real).
walking around, you scan the crowd for a familiar face. unfortunately, the only people you recognize are sunghoon and jake, who have a history of hitting on you despite your clear disinterest. they still haven't grasped that you're a lesbian. you quickly decide to steer clear of them.
the only reason you’re here is because you’ve been throwing yourself into your studies, staying late at the gym, and doing too much to avoid danielle – or even the thought of her.
(which is unfortunately impossible since every little thing reminds you of her.
the flowers on the counter at your work remind you of her smile, the couch in your apartment is where you two have spent hours together, and really, you’re hopeless.)
you find jimin outside on the porch with her other friends that you’ve only talked to once or twice. they’re all talking about something, clearly tipsy, and you’re walking over to linger near your friend.
“y/n! oh my gosh girl, where have you been? come here, have a drink!” jimin grabs your arm, pulling you in and hugging you like she hasn’t seen you in forever. “here, take a shot.”
she hands you a shot of what you assume is some cheap vodka, you didn’t even have time to pregame for this. you’re not against drinking, not at all, if anything you’re all for it. there’s videos of you in groupchats shotgunning beer and finishing with barely any reaction – but tonight, you don’t know if you’re in the mood for it.
one won’t hurt, maybe it’ll erase danielle from your mind for a moment.
“fine.” you grab the small glass, then bring it to your lips and cock your head back, eyes pinching for a brief moment as you swallow. “shit,” you mumble, “give me another.”
you don’t know what has taken over, because you’re downing two more without hesitation. jimin laughs and smiles proudly at you.
for a brief moment, everything feels fine. the music blasting from inside the house, a mix of charli xcx and the chatter of your friends mocking one of your professors and jake, makes you laugh out loud. amidst the chaos, you find a beer in your hand, and somehow, you manage to tolerate the taste. wonyoung appears too, and hands you another after you quickly finish the first. you accept it, even though you're already starting to feel a bit fuzzy.
jimin looks at minjeong with a sparkle in her eyes, and you subtly push her a little closer until their shoulders touch. they exchange smiles, and you watch, feeling proud of your matchmaking.
your heart sinks as it suddenly reminds you all too much of danielle. the fondness and spark between jimin and minjeong make you frown, your grip on the beer tightening as the bittersweet memories flood back.
“fuck,” you practically whisper. “i need to, i’m going to get more um, drinks.”
“hm? okay.” jimin says quickly, then turns back to the girl she’s linking arms with.
your head pounds, so you gulp down the can of beer in your hand, then crumple it and toss it toward a trash bin in your line of sight.
as you make your way to the kitchen, you spot a bottle of vodka and pour yourself a shot into a plastic cup you found. the liquid burns your throat, intensifying the ache in your head. despite this, you pour another shot, perhaps a bit too generously, hoping to numb the growing pain and the emotions clawing at your heart.
the room feels like it’s spinning, you’re walking down some hall and blinking and blinking until you reach a bathroom. thankfully, no one is making out in it, but you check the shower for safety measures.
you’re finally alone, groaning as you fall against the wall of the bathroom and slide down until you’re sitting on the bathroom floor.
clumsily, you grab your phone from your back pocket. the screen lights up to a picture of you and danielle, cheeks squished together and smiling.
you stare at it for too long, your breath hitching and your vision blurring as the ache in your head intensifies. the happy memory contrasts sharply with the heaviness you feel now, making it all the more difficult to look away. she just looks so cute in it.
you tap your screen again, and another picture of her appears. it’s a picture of her asleep in the passengers seat, head tilted uncomfortably and lips parted slightly. you had set up your lock screen to cycle through images of danielle, initially to fool sarah, but also because seeing danielle’s face as soon as you pick up your phone makes you feel at ease. each photo captures her different expressions—laughing, pouting, lost in thought—and they all make you grin.
the happiness you feel is bittersweet, knowing it’s all part of an arrangement that feels increasingly real to you.
your vision is a little unclear, but somehow it sharpens just so you can see her perfectly.
“fuck,” you gasp out, unlocking your phone and trying to navigate to your recent calls. you had called hanni earlier and she had just been lounging at her place. you figure that she’d be able to take you away from here.
you squint, pressing on the contact that has a and n, assuming it’s hanni, then wait as the phone rings.
“hello?”
“hanni, i’m… can you pick me up?”
“y/n?” her voice is muffled when it reaches your ears, “are you okay? what happened, where are you?”
“jimin… dragged me out. i drank… soooo much.”
“y/n, oh my gosh.”
“hanni, stay on the line, please.”
“i’m not–” the voice cuts off, you drop your phone on the carpet. “hello?”
“you have my location… right.” you slur, head leaning against the wall even more. “hanni i can’t do it anymore.”
“y/n, i’m on my way. are you alright?”
“hanni, i can’t.” you groan, staring up into space. “i don’t want to fake date danielle anymore. it feels too real, i hate it.”
silence follows before you hear the voice on the other end of the phone.
“you can’t? why, why didn’t you tell her?”
“she seems happy, and… we just, don’t acknowledge that it’s not real.”
“y/n…”
danielle sits in her car, heart sinking.
you dialed her on accident, and it doesn't seem like you know it’s her.
“please come. please.”
danielle gulps, feeling tears forming in her eyes.
–
danielle scavenges through the house your location on her phone has brought you to, looking around for you helplessly.
she makes her way to the porch and spots jimin, who’s hands are on minjeongs neck as she holds her in place. danielle walks over, not wanting to disturb the intimacy, but you’re her biggest priority, so she’s willing to do so.
“jimin,”
she turns around, looking at danielle confusingly. “oh, when did you get here?”
“where’s y/n?”
“hmmm… she went to get drinks a while ago, she hasn’t come back yet. try the kitchen?”
“okay, thank you.” danielle says hurriedly, then rushes back inside.
she checks the kitchen, only to see jake and sunghoon with beers in their hands as they cackle loudly. you’re nowhere in sight, making her bite her lip in frustration.
danielle goes through every room on the first floor until she reaches a bathroom. she pushes the door open, and it suddenly stops, hitting someone. a groan escapes from behind the door.
"i'm so sorry!" danielle rushes out, peeking around the door to see who she’s just collided with. "y/n?" she gasps, eyes widening in recognition and concern.
you’re sitting against the wall, hair tousled and cheeks red. there’s a white tank top hugging you, the thin straps of it loose against your skin from your posture.
“hanni?” you look up, squinting. “i wanna go home.”
you see the figure move closer to you and close the door, then she squats down and you realize it’s not hanni. danielle comes into view, her eyebrows creased with concern. your cheeks flush even harder, and your lips part.
she puts a hand on your forehead, then cups her cheeks with both. “are you okay?”
“you’re not… hanni.”
danielle’s shoulders fall down a bit. “hanni um,” danielle hates lying, but she’s doing it now to save you from spiraling. “she sent me over.”
“oh.” the response from you cracks her heart slightly. “okay.”
"let's go," she says firmly, helping you up. despite being taller and more muscular than her, you lean on her for support. danielle manages to steady you with surprising ease, guiding you out of the bathroom and through the house, her grip strong and unwavering.
–
you collapse onto danielle’s couch and groan, your body is limp against the cushions.
a few moments later, she comes back with a cup of water, placing it on the coffee table before she sits you up. she tilts your chin up and you look at her with wonder as she grabs the cup and holds it to your lips, “drink.”
“mhm.” you mumble, sipping slowly and swallowing.
your vision clears slightly, though it might just be danielle who’s grounding you. her concerned eyes meet yours, and while guilt tugs at you, you're also captivated by her beauty in this moment. you're drunk and out of your mind, thoughts muddled and unfocused.
“pretty.” you sigh dreamily.
“y/n,” her voice is laced with uneasiness. “drink more water.”
“okay.”
“and stay the night, okay? you um, left…” she swallows hard, fighting back a frown. “you left your clothes here, i’ll go grab them.”
“can you stay with me though? will you? i really… just… i want you here.”
danielle bites the inside of her lip, her eyes wide with confusion. just moments ago, you had admitted that you wanted to stop the whole ‘relationship’—that it had become too intense, too overwhelming. and now, you’re asking her to stay? her mind spins with the jarring shift in emotions.
you lean in, clinging onto her. danielle feels the warmth of your breath and the softness of your nose brushing against her neck. the touch sends a shiver through her, and she swallows hard, struggling to steady her breathing. as you pull back, your faces are mere inches apart. you lock eyes with her, your gaze heavy with so much.
there’s a lump in her throat. “okay.”
–
danielle wakes up with you on top of her and your head in the crook of her neck. she hears you breathing softly and subconsciously, her hand slides into your hair.
why are you so confusing? danielle wonders, twirling your hair with her pointer finger. is this what you really want?
you’re incredibly considerate, a trait that’s always shone brightly. the way you go out of your way for her—planning dates, cherishing every moment together, simply because it makes her happy—fills her with a bittersweet feeling. she adores these shared moments, savoring the illusion of authenticity. but now that it’s clear that all of it strains you, it weighs heavily on her heart.
you stir awake, your breath warm and rhythmic against danielle's skin. as you hum softly, her cheeks flush a delicate pink. she feels the gentle pressure of your arms tightening around her, pulling her closer. you shift, nestling deeper into her, finding a more comfortable position. each movement sends a shiver through danielle, leaving her heart fluttering like crazy at eight in the morning.
she doesn’t know what to do.
–
danielle doesn’t ask you out or come over the whole week, excusing herself by saying she’s busy or caught up with things. of course, you don’t comment on it – she’s not really your girlfriend, you shouldn’t expect her time and affection.
but then another week passes by and you don’t get any texts back, sometimes she even leaves you on delivered for hours. that’s not like her at all.
you catch her in class and she’s still the same danielle you know – bubbly, pretty, and sweet – but that’s really the only time you see her these days.
it’s confusing, all too confusing, so you barge into hanni’s apartment on a thursday evening because she’s the only one you can rant to about this.
“you didn’t even text me–”
“oh my god i think danielle fucking hates me.”
hanni lets you storm in, walking towards her room and flop onto her own bed. you look devasted, especially when you rub your face in your hands and groan loudly.
“okay, first of all: why the hell would she? second of all: yeah, why… why would she…?”
“she’s been avoiding me and i have no fucking clue why.”
“dude what.”
you recount the entire story to hanni, animatedly illustrating every detail with exaggerated hand gestures. “so, jimin practically dragged me out to unwind, and i ended up drunk out of my mind!” you say. your hands wave dramatically, punctuating the story as you describe stumbling around, the room spinning, and how the whole ordeal felt like a whirlwind.
hanni watches, her amusement growing as you explain the night’s events. “jesus.”
“yeah, and then danielle came and picked me up.”
“she did?”
“yeah… you called her over… didn’t you?”
“dude, what are you talking about.”
you pause, looking at her with confusion evident all over your face. then grab your phone, heart feeling strained when you see danielle posing with a stuffed animal that one time – out of many – you two went to the mall together. you click on the phone app, looking at your recent calls and scrolling down to roughly two weeks ago.
you see hanni’s contact name, and then danielles after.
“hanni, did i… did i call you that night? two weeks ago, the friday night i went out.”
“dude you only called me that morning or something, you left something here.”
“oh my fucking god.” you gasp, putting a hand over your mouth. “oh my god.”
“y/n what.”
“i drunk dialed dani and i thought it was you. she told me you sent her to grab me…”
“what did you say to her?” hanni asks, looking at you with slight worry.
you groan, rubbing your face again. “i… i said i didn’t want to fake date her anymore.”
“oh, well that’s not too bad.”
“no, i remember it somehow. i said i hated it.”
your best friend looks at you, confused again. “you do?”
“yeah, but like, no?” you groan once more and fall onto the bed again. “hanni, i’ve… i’ve liked danielle since first semester.”
“oh.”
“yeah, oh.”
“you’ve been fake dating and simultaneously in love with her?”
you sigh. “yes.”
“holy shit.”
“yeah. i think she took it the wrong way, maybe she thinks i hate her?”
“you need to talk to her.”
“she doesn’t want to see me.”
“no, she’s so fond of you. i honestly think she likes you back.”
“okay it’s not the time for that–”
“shut the hell up bro.” hanni pinches your cheek and you slap her hand away. she begins again, “dude, she rambles about you and shit. there were times i actually thought you guys were really dating.”
“i wish.”
“then make it come true!” hanni groans. she pulls you up, then puts both hands on your shoulder. “you need to go talk to her, stop being a pussy.”
“it’s not that–”
your phone vibrates in your hand, snapping you out of your animated retelling. instinctively, you glance down and see a notification from danielle. hanni notices the shift in your expression, quirking an eyebrow as you stare at the screen, looking visibly distressed. she leans closer, peeking at the notification.
as your face unlocks the phone, the text is revealed: "can you come over? we should talk." your mouth drops open slightly in shock, and hanni mirrors your expression. the room suddenly feels heavy.
“dude.” hanni points at the screen – the obvious. “she–”
“fuck me.” you mutter, “fuck me.”
“dumbass,” hanni says, pushing you off her bed. you curse and look at her with “what the fuck?” written all over your face. hanni stands up and continues to push you out her room, saying, “go see your ‘girlfriend,’ even if it’s not real you better go talk to mo dani.”
you sigh, pushing her off you and grabbing your things before you walk towards hanni’s apartment door. you stare at the handle, then the text, and linger for a moment. hanni puts a hand on your shoulder and you look at her.
“i’m fucking terrified.”
“well you’ll feel even worse if you don’t go, so go.” hanni urges, opening the door and nudging you out.
–
the air is cold, it’s really just cold outside and it makes you shiver more than you already are just from the thought of the interaction.
you’re outside danielle’s work, sitting on the steps because you can’t bring yourself to go in and approach her directly. maybe it makes you a coward, but you’ve always been nervous about seeing her willingly and making the first move. the minutes stretch on, each one making you more anxious, but you can't help it. the thought of facing her, of initiating that crucial conversation, ties your stomach in knots. she called you out here anyway.
wind hits your cheeks and you bite your lip, walking around in your place in an attempt to warm up. then, you catch someone in the corner of your eye, so you turn around and meet danielle.
a loose sweater drapes over her frame, and wide-fit linen pants hide the shape of her legs. the wind tousles her hair just as it does yours, but she looks effortlessly angelic, stopping your heart for a moment. her hair, caught in the breeze, frames her face in a way that makes her seem almost ethereal, temporarily making you forget your worries.
then she’s walking toward you, and you remember why you’re here.
you swallow hard, body tensing.
“thank’s for coming, i’m sorry i haven’t been.. um, able to spend time with you.” she looks nervous, her eyes avoiding yours and hands fiddling with each other. she stares at your necklace instead as she continues, “i’ve just… i wanted to talk to you about what we have.”
“right, i wanted to talk to you about it too.”
“oh,” danielle says quietly. “i’m sorry, i didn’t want to be a burden. you called me instead of hanni the night you got drunk and i know how you feel about fake dating. i’m sorry that you had to do it with me and it caused you so much stress i just–”
your heart aches as you listen to her ramble, guilt evident in her voice for something that’s not her fault. you can't bear to hear her blame herself. your brows furrow with pity as you gently cut her off, “danielle, no, let me–”
“stop, i want to make myself clear. i want to explain a lot of things to you, you’re so lovely and sweet and you don’t deserve to be so stressed. it’s just, okay, wait.”
she pauses, breathing in, and looking at you with tears lining her eyes. your breath shakes looking at her like that, you can’t breathe or speak in the moment.
danielle purses her lips before continuing, “okay, when hanni first said you wanted to date me, i got so excited because well, i always thought you were cute.” she turns her head to the side and bites her lip before looking back at you. “and then you said it wasn’t an actual date, you wanted it to be fake. i don’t know i just, i felt really sad when it happened but at the same time the thought of fake dating you didn’t seem too bad because i’m selfish and i mean, i liked you a little and i thought i could just fake it and revel in the artificial aspect until i got over it but i ended up falling for you so much and i’m sorry. i don’t want you to think im anything like sarah–”
“danielle, stop.”
“no, y/n i just want to explain myself–”
“danielle, shut up, oh my god.” you gasp, looking at her in disbelief. “you, are you fucking with me?”
she looks at you, still feeling guilty. when she blinks, two tears fall down her cheeks and she inhales sharply as she conceals a sob. she turns away, then murmurs, “no, i’m so sorry.”
“n-no, no. dani, danielle.” you almost breathe it out, then bring both hands to hold her face. your hands cup her cheeks making her face you. “please stop crying, i’m sorry, baby, i’m sorry.”
“b-baby?” she says, confusing taking over her features. you had gotten so used to calling her endearing pet names that it slipped out so suddenly in the heat of the moment.
the lights outside shine just enough for you to see her clearly. her eyes are watery, tears staining her cheeks, and you use your thumb to gently wipe them away. her nose is a little pink, and so are her cheeks. of course, she’s a pretty crier too, but you look at her with guilt, shaking your head as you continue to stroke her cheeks with your thumb. the sight of her like this breaks your heart even more.
“i only said i hated it because it was all too real, but not in a bad way. not at all.”
“really?” she says between sniffles. “w-what do you mean?”
“i’m saying that,” you use your thumb to rub a tear threatening to fall from the corner of her eye. “i hated it because i couldn’t take the fact that it wasn’t real. i wanted it to be real. danielle, i’ve wanted to be yours since you first gave me the notes from the first lecture we had together.”
“what?”
“danielle,” you almost whisper, then kiss her forehead. “i like you so much. i don’t hate you, or this – i hate that it’s not real.”
her mouth opens in shock as she looks at you, sniffling. you anxiously wait for a response, hoping she'll say something, but she doesn’t. instead, she hugs you, wrapping her arms around you tightly. you return the embrace, holding her just as tight. the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you in the nerveracking moment.
“i like you too – a lot. i was so scared when you said you hated it, i thought i was making you uncomfortable and gosh i just felt so bad and–”
you rub her back with your hand and cut her off, “i was anything but uncomfortable, i felt like i was living in a fantasy.”
“thank god.” danielle sighs in relief.
you pull away, looking at her again and wiping remnants of tears with your thumb again. “i’m sorry for making you cry.”
if you could go back and punch yourself for being stupid — you’d do it in a heartbeat. a dumb slip up and miscommunication from your lips is the reason danielle’s nose is still tinted pink from crying, you feel guilty as ever.
in your hands, it feels like you hold the world. she shakes her head in your hold, then smiles from relief.
“it’s okay.”
“are you busy after this?”
danielle giggles, shaking her head again. “if you’re asking me out on a date – a real one – then absolutely not.”
“dinner? it’s on me for being stupid that night, and this whole time.”
“perfect.”
you smile sweetly at her, your gaze lingering on her lips. before you know it, you lean in and boldly peck her right then and there. she gasps when you pull away, looking at you with widened eyes as you back off. but then, she reels you in again, leaning closer and kissing you once more. the kiss is soft and warm, filled with all the unspoken words and emotions that have built up between you. you feel her smile against your lips, and everything else fades away.
when you part again, you look at her fondly and ask, “wait, this is real, right? like, we’re…”
danielle laughs, hastily pecking you once more and lingering close.
“i don’t think it’s the alcohol that made you so dense and stupid.”
#kpop x reader#danielle marsh x reader#danielle x reader#danielle marsh#newjeans x reader#new jeans x reader#mo jihye#mo jihye x reader#newjeans fluff#newjeans danielle#newjeans imagines
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love fool ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
♫: Seven, Jungkook // Lovefool, The Cardigans // I only want to be with you, Tommy february6
“In which Yeonjun is more than willing to show you the lengths he’ll go for you.”
yeonjun x fem!reader
Genre: established relationship, inspired by “Seven” mv, fluff, angst, smut
Word count: 10.6K
warnings: don’t take this story seriously pls. it’s ridiculous. yj is clingy. and emotional. and a bit pathetic. the mc is avoidant… and a bit of a bitch ! Lack of communication smh, a bit toxic if u squint ur eyes but it’s supposed to be cute idk (seven mv type toxic skdjdj) yj is a frat boy & a himbo (pick a struggle, pls), arguing, mc has acrylic nails, use of the phrase “boyfriend-girlfriend” bc i’m obsessed w it
smut warnings: mean dom!mc, sub!yj, (mentions of dom!yj) service top!yj, unprotected sex, manhandling (m. rec), hairpulling, name calling, (bitch, stupid, slut, etc) pet names (baby, good boy), dry humping, biting, marking, scent kink (?), scratching, dumbification, dacryphilia, forced orgasm (kinda), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, yj rambles. a lot. breast play, handjob, humiliation, creampie, subspace, implied oral (f. rec) (lemme know if i should add anything!)
Notes: fucking hate arguing with men w/ pretty puppy eyes like i will fuck the shit outta y-
Yeonjun hates when you’re mad at him. It makes him feel guilty and leaves him with a gross feeling in his stomach, pouty and annoying as his friends are always left to deal with the mess.
It doesn’t happen often— he tries his hardest not to make you mad, always saying yes and going above and beyond with you— he loves to please you and make you happy, which is exactly why it hits harder when you look at him like you never want to see him again.
“I don’t want to see you around, don’t talk to me!”
But sometimes, he just can’t help it.
He seriously doesn’t know what he did wrong— there were no anniversaries forgotten, no plans he stood you up on, no petty arguments— and yet, here he sits, sinking into his couch and burrowed in blankets as his friends try to get him to come out of his cocoon, all with no success.
“Is she mad at you again?” Beomgyu asks, his voice muffled despite sitting on top of Yeonjun— literally, he couldn’t feel his legs— and he hears him groan at the sight of Yeonjun nodding under the mass of blankets, cursing quietly to himself and undoubtedly rolling his eyes, “dude, what did you do?”
“I don’t knowww,” Yeonjun cries out, throwing the blankets off him and onto Beomgyu as he whines— he watches as Beomgyu flails about for a second, running his hands through his hair as he continues to stress about you, “she— she said she didn’t wanna see me again, but I miss her…”
“Fuck, she’s probably just saying that because she wants space— dude, are you crying?”
“What if she was breaking up with me?” Yeonjun asks, and Beomgyu is amazed to see the way his wide eyes are welling up with tears; god, he’s actually crying now, the sight childish and unhinged as he watches his (older) friend sniffle and hiccup through his sentences, “what if— what if she— she, she, she really meant it— god, I don’t wanna break up, I don’t even know what I did wronggg!”
“Okay, okay,” Beomgyu grimaces, watching the way his friend breaks down before his eyes; his hand is stiff and awkward as it pats Yeonjun’s back, trying his best to comfort him, wincing at the way Yeonjun only cries harder, “It’s… probably nothing, I’m sure she’ll talk to you again tomorrow, or once she’s calmed down.”
“You think?” Yeonjun asks, peeking through his hands and up at Beomgyu with sparkling eyes, full of hope as Beomgyu can only crack a nervous smile.
“Yeah,” he says, patting Yeonjun’s back again in reassurance, “Yeah— just, be patient, okay?”
Patient is the last word one would use to describe Yeonjun.
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
MONDAY
This is it.
Yeonjun has been waiting all weekend for this moment (Or just Sunday, to be more accurate), restless on his feet as he finds himself pacing back and forth— he’s nibbling at his lip nervously, arms sore and tired from the weight of the gift he holds in his hands; a bouquet of your favorite flowers, pristine and in full bloom— it’s large and quite heavy as it practically covers his face, but Yeonjun knew that a small bouquet would do nothing to show his love for you.
He would try to talk to you as soon as your class ended. He needed to know what he did wrong, and he sure as hell would not do it again. You didn’t text him after the argument, and it only left him uneasy at the thought of you really wanting to end things.
He didn’t want to lose you. Not like this.
Admittedly, he got a bit ahead of himself— he’s been waiting outside for the past half hour, arriving much too early as he stood out in the hall awkwardly— at some point, he tried peeking into the small, rectangular window next to the door, hunched over slightly and pouting as he scanned the room for you.
When he spotted you, he was delighted to see you had already been looking at him.
He couldn’t contain the wide smile that stretched across his face, waving at you excitedly in hopes you’d do the same— unable to realize that the whole class was now looking at him, he was confused to watch the way your face screwed up into an expression of sheer embarrassment, shielding your face with your hand and looking away as some students began following his line of sight.
Why did you do that? You were ignoring him, and it hurt like a bitch as Yeonjun frowned. His mind was racing as he began wondering what he might’ve done wrong— he was so focused, in fact, that he failed to notice the professor blocking his view, his reaction time much too slow as his eyes flickered up to meet the man’s gaze. Flustered, he backed away quickly, his face heating up as he bowed in apology— he hugged the bouquet close to his chest as he did, mumbling out a soft sorry the man probably couldn’t even hear.
You, on the other hand, could hear the way your professor laughed at Yeonjun’s actions, absolutely mortified by the way he turned around and began to joke to the class, saying that “It looks like someone here has an admirer,” whilst looking in your direction, your classmates laughing along before he went back to his lecture.
Shit, this was so embarrassing.
Yeonjun is so fucking stupid, you cry to yourself, peeking over at the doorway in hopes that he took the hint and left— but no, he definitely didn’t, because you could still see his figure through the window, leaning against the wall and holding an item the size of his whole upper body close to his chest.
The last thing you wanted to do was go outside and see him— but that’s exactly what happened anyway, even if you lingered behind once class ended in hopes that Yeonjun would get impatient and wait— patience was never his strongest virtue, after all.
But for you, anything could change.
This is exactly why you find him outside the door, face hidden with what is, to your surprise, a large bouquet of your favorite flowers.
Fuck, you seriously don’t want to talk to him right now. Gritting your teeth, you use this moment to sneak past him, a slight guilt tugging at you as you look back, spotting the way he seems oblivious to the fact that you’ve left already.
Looking back was your first mistake.
Because Yeonjun, in a truly creepy fashion, is almost able to sense it, whipping his head to you and perking up at the way you only walk faster— then begin sprinting, refusing to look back again once he starts chasing after you.
“Baby,” you hear him call out to you, the ridiculous rustling of his bouquet slightly muffling his words as his footsteps thud against the tiles; for an athlete, you’d expect him to catch up to you already, but you quietly pat yourself on the back for the slight head start you gave yourself.
“Baby, wait!” he continues to yell, ignoring the strange stares from those passing by, “Please, let me talk to you!”
“I don’t wanna talk!” you growl out, your emotions taking over as you remember why you’re mad at him, “leave me alone!”
You’re outside now; you’re a huffing and sweaty mess, but you refuse to slow down for even a second, the threat of Yeonjun hot on your heels fueling your stamina.
“Can you please tell me what I did wrong?” He yells, exasperated as he watches you run off the sidewalk— you’re attempting to lose him, but countless running drills and morning runs have prepared him for this moment— without a second thought, he’s following you, attempting to peek over his— inconveniently large, he must admit— bouquet, watching the way you simply continue to run, glancing back every once in a while to see if he’s still there.
“Please, can we be civil and talk about this?!” his words have you turning around to send him a glare— instead, you stumble to a stop as you watch Yeonjun trip, eyes widening at the dramatic sight before you.
He’s fallen flat on his face, a puff of petals blowing up around him as you wince— he’s face-first into whatever’s left of the flowers, the rest of the petals fluttering in the air around him and falling delicately on his figure as you stare, the place eerily silent save for the chirping birds and rustling leaves.
He doesn’t say anything— he doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t even attempt to get up, left splattered all over the grass as you stare at him in slight concern.
“Yeonjun?” you call out uncertainly, shifting on your feet as you pause. He doesn’t respond— he’s left frozen on the ground, and you’re frowning at the sight as you slowly make your way to him; you approach him slowly, as though you were approaching a wild animal, tense in your movements as you lean in to observe him.
“Did you die?” you ask quietly, taking in the way he still hasn’t moved. Not an inch. You feel more concerned than you want to admit, crouching down in front of him as you bite your lip in worry.
“Do you hate me.” the sudden words have you flinching, staring down at Yeonjun, who’s still eating dirt and flowers. You frown, scoffing at the way he weakly reaches out for you— swiftly, you slap his hand, watching the way it flops back onto the ground.
“No— yes— a little,” you stutter out, angry at the way you bounce between responses just from the mere pathetic sight of him.
“Can you forgive me?” he asks, the words muffled as it takes you a minute to decipher what he may be saying— you can’t help but roll your eyes at his antics.
“For what?” you ask, picking a petal off his back absentmindedly as you wait— if he could answer properly, you might consider giving in.
“For existing.”
God, Yeonjun was such a sap. It has you biting back a smile as you resist the urge to stroke his hair, mused and riddled with petals from his grand gesture— but his answer was not the one you were looking for, and you’re standing back up and readjusting your clothes without another word.
“pleaaaaseee,” you hear him whine, watching the way he shrivels up into a ball— then, he’s sitting back on his legs, whipping his head up and looking at you with wide, teary eyes.
“Please take the flowers with you at least,” he pouts, thrusting the bouquet— or, whatever was left of it— up at you with pleading eyes.
Pressing your lips together, you sigh; a moment passes before you’re taking the gift from him begrudgingly, ignoring the way he perks up happily at your action.
“I’m still mad at you,” you hiss, and he immediately deflates at your words, “Don’t visit my class like that again. Please.”
He says nothing, left to watch as you turn your back to him and walk away; he has yet to get up, his heart pounding against his chest as he watches the way you hug the flowers close to you, shaking your head at the state of them.
This was… progress.
But you’re still mad at him.
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
TUESDAY
Visiting you in class was a big no.
Visiting you in general, however, wasn’t off-limits.
You don’t want to talk to him? Fine, he can understand. In fact, he won’t talk to you at all— a feat much greater said than done— but hey, he always loved staring at you anyway.
Well, it’s a little hard to stare by the way you’ve propped up textbooks around your face like a fort.
He’s staring. He’s still staring. You can practically feel his puppy-eyed gaze burn into your brain telepathically; no matter how hard you try to focus on your work, it’s become damn near impossible with the way you can feel Yeonjun’s presence, your neck beginning to ache from the way you’ve remained ducked down this whole time.
It was easy to deal with at first; you chose not to do anything the moment you saw Yeonjun emerge from the staircase and onto the top floor of the library— otherwise known as the quietest level.
He wouldn’t be able to talk to you without disturbing the peace of others— and potentially being asked to leave— so you decided to not make a scene and go back to studying, even when you felt his eyes lock on your figure and beeline to you.
He sat across from you first. Though, you were quick to move, pretending as though you were looking for a book as you quickly ran away to the other side of the library. You felt the way his eyes followed you the whole time— he looked like a kicked puppy, and damn did that stupid tactic of his always work, because you even felt yourself pausing for a second, wondering if you should give in and talk to him.
But, you are a horrendously petty person.
You were holed up in some random corner. You didn’t even know there was a table there until today, the spot so secluded and quiet that you silently celebrated getting him off your trail.
It was peaceful— for like, a good ten minutes.
You didn’t think much of it when you first heard it; footsteps, slow and calculated as they rounded about the bookshelves. You could hear the sound of books being pulled out clear as day, though you chose to ignore it all and keep focus on your assignments instead.
After a moment, the footsteps disappeared.
It was back to being completely silent. And, in your bored state, you began to look around the area you were huddled up in; curiously, you allowed yourself to walk around, reading the spines and pulling out books that seemed to pique your interest even slightly.
There seemed to be another person here as well— maybe it was the same person as before, or maybe it was someone new— you didn’t pay mind to it nonetheless, continuing your journey as your eyes locked in on a particularly colorful book.
Slowly, you pulled it out— on the other side, you watched the book adjacent to yours slowly get pulled out as well, and a smile tugged at your lips at the odd coincidence.
Then, your eyes met with Yeonjun’s.
His gaze filled with admiration was only returned with a mean scowl from you. You were quick to shove the book back into its place, storming off to your table without a moment’s hesitation.
Yeonjun was quickly able to find your hiding spot— one might think you could cry from the way you buried your face into your hands defeatedly, refusing to look up from your dark refuge as the sounds of a chair scraping against the carpeted floors met your ears.
That’s how you found yourself here, ignoring what people might think as you hide behind your fortress of textbooks. You didn’t feel good staying in a secluded area with Yeonjun— not because you thought he might try to do anything— but because you were afraid of your own resolve crumbling, especially after you’d spent so much time trying to ignore him.
You wonder if he’s still here. Who are you kidding, of course he’s still here, though you can’t really bring yourself to check and see for yourself.
After a while, you hear scribbling sounds.
You can’t hide the way you jump as a piece of paper hits your head, folded into a perfect heart and landing in front of you with a dull thud.
Open me :( it says, and though you wish you could say you were strong enough to ignore it, you definitely aren’t.
Can you pls let me look at u at least?
You don’t get much of a moment to process the message. Another paper lands directly in front of you, shaped into a heart and scrawled with the same words as the last— slowly, you open it, dreading what might be written inside this time.
I miss you so so so so so much.
You shake your head at his words. Sliding the paper to the side, you ignore his request, choosing to focus on your work instead of giving in to his silly tactics. After a moment, you wonder if you’ll be getting another paper— instead, nothing happens; the sigh of relief you let out is almost comical, your body relaxing a bit as you allow yourself to wonder if he’s finally left.
That was your second mistake.
Because after a few minutes, another paper hits you. It’s another heart, and you find that you don’t need to open it this time, the message scrawled on top for easier access.
I’m sorry.
Another paper flies over your fortress.
I’m sorry.
Then, another.
Pls forgive me.
Then another. And another, and another, and another.
Pls, I hate making you mad. I feel so gross and sad rn. I seriously can’t go a day without you. I miss you sm, pls :(((
You feel like you’re under attack— the way he continues to throw paper after paper is rhythmic and almost impressive, the endless stream of hearts covering your keyboard and forcing you to sweep them to the side after seconds.
It’s useless to study. How can you, when Yeonjun keeps throwing his apologies at you? It’s stupid and childish and is enough for you to take your textbooks down, your jaw clenched and your eyes pointed in a sharp glare that has Yeonjun pausing in his actions.
There’s a small pile of hearts next to him.
Neither of you move— he’s frozen mid-throw, his eyes widening as though he can’t grasp the fact that you’re actually looking at him— even if it’s filled with rage and annoyance.
Slowly, the corners of his lips curl up— you can’t find it in you to react as he throws the paper in his hands, feeling the way it smacks right onto your forehead before it falls to the table.
Can I show u how sorry I am??
You don’t seem to think of the consequences as you reach for your bag in the seat next to you— devoid of anything except a few pencils and your hoodie— and throw it at him, watching the way he yelps in surprise, your bag spilling out it’s few contents all over the floor. The sound is enough to have the people around you glancing at your table, curious or angry at the sound of the ruckus.
You’re worked up and huffing as you watch Yeonjun scramble to gather the spilled contents of your bag, watching as he stutters out whispered apologies between his actions.
“Excuse me,” the hand on your shoulder is firm as you twist your head to look at the librarian, your expression falling at the realization of what you’ve just done.
“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Whipping your head around, you meet eyes with a sheepish and guilty Yeonjun, gritting your teeth as he holds out your bag for you to take.
Wordlessly, you snatch it from him, shoving your computer and the rest of your items into it before you’re turning around to face the librarian; you whisper out a soft “I’m so sorry” as you bow in apology, waiting for her to leave before you’re facing Yeonjun again.
I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, he mouths to you, though you ignore it all as you choose to whack his shoulder with your very-full bag instead; the pained whimper he lets out has you gritting your teeth in irritation, watching the way he pouts up at you as he rubs his arm pathetically.
“Don’t pull this shit again,” you hiss out, storming off before he can get another word out.
There goes all his progress.
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
WEDNESDAY
Today has been an oddly nice day.
It’s nice— too nice, you wonder, pondering what may be different enough to have you walking with a smile on your face, appreciating the beautiful weather in a light mood.
A guy your age is leaning against a tree up ahead. He holds a bouquet of roses, and you smile at the way he seems to be passing one out to every person that passes him. That’s so sweet, you think to yourself, and you can’t help the way your stomach twists in anticipation the moment his eyes meet yours.
“Would you like a rose?” he asks you, his blond hair shining under the sunlight as he sends you a bright smile— you don’t hesitate to say yes, taking the flower from him with a cute thank you!
The flower is in full bloom as you twirl it between your fingers absentmindedly. The smile on your face is seemingly permanent as you make your way to your favorite cafe, though as you think back to the interaction, you can’t help but wonder if you know that man from somewhere.
It isn’t until you stop at a crosswalk that you notice it— there’s a tag on the rose, and though you initially thought it was just a price tag, you realize that it’s something else; pausing before you cross the street, you take a moment to tilt your head and read it, feeling your jaw drop as your brain registers the words in disbelief.
Yeonjun says he’s sorry.
“What the fuck,” you mutter to yourself, ripping it off without hesitation and shoving it into your pocket— you definietly recognize the man from earlier, you realize— that was Hueningkai!
You roll your eyes at Yeonjun’s weak ploy to talk to you— you can’t help the way it leaves you irritated as you stand in line to order, trying your best to recite your regular order to the barista with a smile on your face, the man before you giving you a dimpled smile before he’s off to make it.
By the time you get your order, you’ve calmed down— you’re quick to exit and make your way back towards campus, using this small break between classes to study again. (without Yeonjun around, hopefully.)
Your fingers are absentminded as you trace over the printed sticker on the side of the cup that has your order printed on it, glancing down at the text before you take another sip.
Yeonjun is really sorry.
…What?
You were more unnerved than anything. The lengths Yeonjun had gone through to communicate almost concerned you, though all you could do at this point was rip the sticker off and shove it in your pocket, ignoring it like the other one. You wracked your mind for answers as you began to wonder if you had seen that barista anywhere else, and after a moment, you settled on the vague conclusion that you think you’ve seen him in Yeonjun’s frat house before.
He’s so annoying, you sigh to yourself, rubbing at your temples as you fear an upcoming headache.
You’re startled back to life at the sight of a puppy running up to you— you’re frowning at the sight, unsure of what to do as it stops right at your feet, jumping up on you and barking excitedly— almost like it recognized you— squinting, you observe the dog.
Oh god, you think to yourself, realizing with dread that you do recognize this damn dog.
“Matcha, who let you out,” you huff, leaning down to scoop the tiny dog into your arms— in the distance, you can see someone running in your direction, though you choose to ignore it as you notice Matcha’s brand new collar.
Yeonjun misses you more than anything.
The words are wrapped around his collar, leaving you to throw your head back and groan at the sight; the footsteps are much louder than before, and you’re looking forward again as you spot yet another familiar face.
“Beomgyu,” you sneer, shoving Matcha into his awaiting hands. All he can do is laugh sheepishly, muttering out what a coincidence! Petting Matcha, he pauses, giving you an expectant look that only leaves you confused.
“Could you forgive him?”
“Go away!” you say in return, weaving out of his way and practically running off to the library; you can hear Matcha barking at you, though you choose to ignore it as Beomgyu’s calls of your name fuel you further.
You feel out of breath by the time you finally enter the library, finding the nearest help desk and beginning to rummage through your bag for any books you need renewed— the librarian simply smiles at you patiently as he waits, adjusting his glasses before he quickly turns around to get something— by the time he’s back, you’ve laid out your books for him, thanking him quietly as you watch him renew them quickly.
When he slides them back towards you, you frown— there’s a bookmark on top of your small stack of books, laminated and shiny under the lights as you pick it up to get rid of the glare— reading it, you can already feel the need to tear it, though it seems as this cheeky worker is already one step ahead of you.
Yeonjun just wants to talk to you again.
Three ways to better communication in a relationship:
The glare you send the worker— Taehyun, his name tag reads— is lethal, though he doesn’t seem to be affected by it as he simply sends you an innocent smile. Without another word, you gather your books, shoving them into your bag as you turn to leave.
“Ignoring him won’t solve anything,” he calls out quietly, though you don’t seem to appreciate the advice by the way you don’t even bother to turn back and react. Instead, you walk right back out, storming home as you type on your phone furiously.
my baby :((
stop using others to relay messages damn it!!!
my baby :((
and don’t use matcha against me you loser!!!!!!
Through his end, Yeonjun is just happy that you’re texting him— though, the mean name is not much appreciated.
Choi Yeonjun.
can you pls let me talk to you instead?
You don’t bother opening the notification.
That was your third mistake.
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
THURSDAY
Today has been relatively peaceful. You have yet to be bothered today— no Yeonjun, no Matcha, and certainly none of his friends.
Maybe because he was aware of your plans today; you did tell him a while ago about your reunion with one of your friends, always chatting his ear off about how excited you were to finally see her again—it slightly warms your heart to know that he actually listens to you.
Well. Most of the time.
“You’re fighting right now?” Tzuyu asks, leaning forward in her seat with wide eyes. You didn’t expect this sudden change of topic, but you can only nod grimly in response, watching as she sighs in dismay at your situation.
“Wow, you guys never fight— at least, not to this level,” she’s deep in thought over your relationship as she frowns, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares down at her empty plate— you both chose to forgo dessert, and now you wait patiently for your check.
“Well, what are you guys even fighting about?”
“It’s just—“ you’re cut off by your server placing the check in between the two of you, thanking him with a smile on your face before you’re freezing; you’re unsure of what to make of the plate that he places before you, stuttering out unintelligible sentences that you didn’t order… whatever this was.
“Free of charge,” the man says, before bowing politely and scurrying away; you’re barely able to get a word out before you huff in defeat, looking back at the treat in front of you as you take in Tzuyu’s amused laughter.
“What?” you ask, frowning as you watch her turn the plate towards you— you’re left a bit speechless by what you see, mouth falling open as your brain attempts to comprehend how you should react to this.
It’s dessert— well, more specifically, three full scoops of ice cream, the caramel drizzle and other toppings decorating it to make it look like a cat; more specifically, a sad cat. All along the plate, more caramel drizzle decorates it to form a sentence.
I miss you. Please, talk to me. YJ.
Your head snaps up in the direction the waiter went in; looking out the small window of the kitchen door, you spot none other than Yeonjun, his eyes widening before he’s ducking out of the way like a deer in headlights.
“How the fuck did he get back there?!” you cry out, running a hand down your face in disbelief— but no, one more glance back in his direction is enough to catch him peeking at you again, flinching in surprise before he’s ducking out of your sight once more.
“Who let him in there?” you hiss, placing your head in your hands as Tzuyu merely laughs; you ignore the way she begins to dig into the dessert after you express that you won’t touch it, humming happily that it was a sweet gesture.
A moment’s thought is able to remind you where you are— in Beomgyu’s older brother’s restaurant, of course.
Defeatedly, you open the checkbook to offer to pay— though the price has your eyes practically bulging out, reading and re-reading the strange excuse of a check this waiter has brought to you.
Your meal was free.
The only thing you read on the paper was a poor excuse of Yeonjun replacing the food items with “i miss you”s and “i’m sorry”s, the sight baffling you as Tzuyu turns the check towards her in curiosity.
“Interesting,” she hums, closing the checkbook before she’s fishing for tip money, “Are you sure you wanna lose a guy like him?”
You take a second to think her question through.
Yet another mistake on your part.
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
FRIDAY
Remembering what happened today is enough to have your head hurting— so, you’ll keep it short.
You were working— working, minding your own business, prey to unsuspecting events— when it happened.
Fridays were always rush days. Maybe that’s why you didn’t think to pay attention to your surroundings, to the blasting music, the yell of your coworkers calling out drinks and names, or to the endless chatter of the customers around you.
You should have paid attention— maybe, if you did, you would’ve been able to spare yourself the embarrassment— another mistake of yours, if you will.
The break of music from the radio was not what caught your attention— radio hosts do it all the time, speaking in between songs with useless chatter as they find a song to play next— no, what did catch your attention, however, was the eerily familiar voice, and worse, the eerily familiar message he broadcasted all over your local station.
“This next song is called Seven,” he spoke, smooth, suave, and relaxing as the track rolled in quietly in the background, “a song about a man more than willing to show how devoted he is to his to his partner— ___, come home, the kids miss you— well, more like Matcha, but still.”
You could feel your coworkers freeze around you. You could feel their gazes slowly drift to you, could feel the way customers got a good look at the decorated name tag you once showed off proudly.
“Is— is he…?” your coworker whispered beside you, watching the way you caved into yourself in attempts to hide your nametag, “is he that frat boy you were talking about?”
“No.” you say, avoiding everyone’s gaze as you focus on making your drink instead, “No. That’s not him. This isn’t about me, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“___, I’ll keep waiting for you patiently. Have a good shift today.”
Christ!
Your coworkers could only laugh lightheartedly at his words— they found it cute, which was even worse for you, because all you could wonder was how the fuck he was able to get into the broadcast station— this time, you seriously couldn’t figure out any ties between him and the place.
“Looks like he won’t give up,” to say you were horrified at the way a customer told you this was an understatement, her eyes alight with amusement as she spoke to you with a tone so genuine you almost thought she was in on it— fuck, maybe she was— “if anything, you should turn him down soon before he goes too far.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” you breathed out, tired of these constant antics as you thought over her words, forced to go through the rest of your shift pretending as though Yeonjun hadn’t broadcasted his pleading message to the whole city— well, more like anyone who was listening to the local radio station willingly.
You feel like you’re on The Truman Show, or something.
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
SATURDAY
You were scared to talk to Yeonjun.
Scared— why were you scared? You don’t know why, but you couldn’t bring yourself to send him a text message, pacing around your room like an idiot instead as you wondered what you would tell him.
Would you talk? Would you finally break up with him?
The way your stomach sank with dread at the mere thought of the second option was enough of an answer for you— no, you shouldn’t break up with him.
However, it was storming today— there was no way in hell you would be going outside to meet him in such weather, so you opted to psych yourself up to send him a text message asking to meet up instead.
You were pacing around your room again when you noticed it.
There’s a bright umbrella outside— shit, you recognize that umbrella, you realize with a heavy dread, walking up to your window and pulling your curtains open as you stare out in dismay.
Why the fuck is Yeonjun outside right now?
It’s perfect timing, the way his umbrella raises to show his figure; oh my god, you think to yourself, biting your lip as you take his expression in, he’s crying!
This was not your intention. You never meant to hurt Yeonjun like this, but you also were not ready to see him yet— so, with a slight pang in your heart, you shut the curtains again, leaving just enough of a crack to make sure that he’ll leave.
Instead, he stayed there. In true Yeonjun fashion, squinting up at your window in hopes that you’d at least tell him to go away. Instead, he watched as you peeked through the crack of the curtains, his heart fluttering slightly at the way you thought you were being discreet with your actions.
Slowly, Yeonjun turns his phone to you; there’s writing flashing by in his phone, though you have to squint your eyes and wait for the whole sentence to roll by to see what he’s trying to tell you now.
I know you don’t… want to see me… right now but I … seriously just need… to know what I … did wrong.
God. Fuck. This whole “ghosting” ordeal was harder than it should be when someone like Yeonjun was involved.
It’s been like… a week and you… still haven’t talked… to me.
Oh, the guilt is seriously eating you up right now. You weren’t supposed to ignore him for days on end, but each time Yeonjun reached out for you, you couldn’t control the way you ran away in return, still hurt by the things he didn’t even realize he did.
You’ve finally gotten a good grasp of his obliviousness.
I’m sorry… I love you… I love you… I love you…
Only three words are rolling by on his phone now. You think you’ve gotten the gist of what he’s trying to tell you as you sink to the floor, out of sight and exasperated as you reach for your phone to make a call.
“Hello?”
“Please come get Yeonjun. He’s outside my apartment in the freezing rain.”
“Uhm, let him in then?”
“I— I can’t,” you mutter sheepishly as you feel your face heating up, your stomach sinking as you hear Beomgyu scoffing on the other side of the line, “I don’t want to talk to him right now. Not like this.”
“Then I guess he’ll stay out in the freezing rain.”
“He’ll get sick!” you say, and it’s only now that you feel stupid for this push and pull you’ve created, “please. I’m begging you.”
“You need to talk to him.”
“I want to. I will.” you say, placing a hand on your forehead as you sigh, “Tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
A pause. Then, you hear rustling, and the sounds of Beomgyu grumbling quietly to himself.
“I’ll go get him,” he says, and you can feel yourself sink further against the wall in relief, “you better not back out on your word, okay?”
“Okay.”��
You hope you’re not making a mistake.
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
SUNDAY
This is awkward. You feel awkward. You probably look awkward, too.
Yeonjun, for once, looks just as awkward and tense before you. His whole body is rigid as he sits on your couch, feeling more like a stranger in your home than the man you’ve spent the past few months with, the way his eyes wander around making you feel like it’s his first time here.
“Yeonjun,” you sigh out, catching his attention as his eyes zero in on you immediately; you feel nervous under his gaze, unsure of what to say as your brain begins to stutter, your mouth opening and closing in hopes that a proper sentence will come out.
“What did I do wrong?” he cries out, snapping you out of your troubled reverie as your eyes meet his— they’re glossy, and you’re afraid he might just start crying again if you look away, “can we start there?”
“You— you seriously don’t know?” you ask, bewildered by his question as you sit back on your couch— Yeonjun simply shakes his head reverently in response, and you’re blinking owlishly at him as you stare at him in disbelief.
“We didn’t have any arguments before this,” he says, nibbling on his lip as he thinks back to the moment you yelled at him, tearing his arm off you as he attempted to keep you from running away, “You just snapped at me then disappeared— I, I want to know what I did wrong, at least.”
“Yeonjun you—“ you’re dragging a hand down your cheek as you clench your jaw, taking a second to breathe to not snap at him again, “that’s the problem, you’re just so— so oblivious, I seriously thought you’d be able to put two and two together by now!”
Oh, oh this is embarrassing; you should not be getting worked up right now, your hands immediately coming up to hide your face as you hear Yeonjun cooing out your name softly— he’s next to you at the speed of light, attempting to take your hands away as he quietly tells you to breathe in his stupid, calming voice.
“You’re always at those stupid parties, you stupid frat boy—“ you’re stuttering through your sentences, the heat in your face humiliating as you feel your emotions finally tumbling down, “and I know I told you I’m okay with it— I am, I really am— but what I’m not okay with is how fucking flirty you are!”
You can feel Yeonjun’s hands stiffen; slowly, his mouth drops in shock, his face beginning to pale as he realizes just why you’re mad at him.
“I’ve told you— time, and time again— that, that I don’t like when you feed into people like that, that you never reject advances and tell them that you have a fucking girlfriend,” you know he never means it in a harmful way. You know that, nine times out of ten, Yeonjun doesn’t even realize those advances are happening, but it’s always just as painful to watch, knowing that charming attitude and cheeky voice is exactly how he got you, “and it just makes me feel so… so stupid and jealous and unwanted!”
You feel out of breath by the time you finish. Though you remain silent and try to calm yourself, you instead begin to feel more anger festering inside you as you take in Yeonjun’s face, full of dread and realization as he begins to think back to how he was acting back at the frat party that caused this mess.
Yeonjun was used to people acting the way they did around him. It never fazed him, and most of the time he simply followed along because he found it fun. No, he never thought of having anyone else but you, you’re his everything— though, he does realize how inconsiderate he’s been of your feelings now.
“Baby, baby, I’m so sorry,” he says, his words genuine and filled with guilt as he cups your face gently, “I didn’t know.”
“Fuck!” Your response is unprecedented as you shake his hands off you, pushing him back and forcing him to lay across the couch as he looks up at you in surprise. He’s unable to do anything as he watches the way you throw your legs on each side of his waist, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and tugging him up as you sneer at him.
“That’s your problem, you just don’t know—!” pushing him back on the couch, he lets out a soft oof! unable to help the way his stomach swirls in anticipation of your next move, “You’re just too stupid, you don’t know anything unless someone spells it out for you!”
Shit. Yeonjun has never seen you like this, frustrated and restless as you shift above him, your eyes alight with rage as you begin tugging your hoodie over your head; his eyes widen comically at the action, shifting nervously under you as he realizes that oh, you’re not wearing a bra.
“You’ve seriously left me wondering if you’re even taking this relationship seriously, it’s ridiculous!” Yeonjun feels like he’s been left on autopilot as he lets you tug him up again; he’s sitting up, hands hovering precariously as you glare at him, the sight enough to have him gulping nervously.
“I— I do,” he stutters out, watching as you send him an accusing look, “I do, I do I do, I take you so seriously, and fuck, I haven’t been thinking of anyone but you all week.”
“Yeah?” you ask him, patronizing and unexpectedly mean as you look down at him, “You never fucking act like it.”
“Yes I do—!” he yells out, though it’s cut off by the way you sit down firmly in his lap, a hand threading into his hair and yanking at the roots as you tug his head back cruelly, “I’ve shown you this whole week just how much I think about you…”
Yeonjun is hard. Painfully so, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get turned on so quickly— it’s enough to have you laughing breathily, tugging on his hair again and listening to the way he only lets out a high whine in response.
“What you’ve shown me this week,” you hiss, bringing him close to you, your lips grazing against his as you speak, “is that you’re a desperate bitch that doesn’t know how to be patient.”
“You were ignoring me,” he fights back, letting out a breathy wince at the way your grip tightens on his hair, “you’ve been so mean to me—!”
Yeonjun doesn’t get another word in on the matter. The way you bite his lip ruthlessly and sneak your tongue into his mouth has you feeling the way he practically turns to putty under you, his cheeks just as red as his lips as he gasps against your own, feeling the way you begin to grind against his cock without remorse.
“Me? I’ve been mean to you?” you wonder out loud, hands running down his chest before you’re tugging his shirt up; you don’t bother taking it off as it rests against his chest, leaning him back and running your hands over his skin as you take in the way his stomach twitches in response. “do you know how many people think they’ve actually got a chance with you, all because you refuse to use common sense and say, oh, I’ve got a girlfriend!”
Yeonjun shakes his head; there’s no way your words are true, especially when he’s literally obsessed with you. But of course, you’re always right— which is exactly why you’re fueled to rake your nails down his skin, leaving him to hiss and twitch at the feeling of your acrylics digging into his stomach and leaving bright, red scratch marks— acrylics he paid for because he thought they were pretty, the reminder only making his cock twitch pathetically.
“There’s no one in this world that has a chance with me but you,” Yeonjun insists, pouting at the way you only scoff at his words, “I’ve never done anything to fuel other people’s strange fantasies.”
“God, you’re stupid,” you say, and Yeonjun thinks he must’ve lost his mind from the way he can feel a whine building up in his throat, “and to think I found that endearing.”
“You’re so mean,” he pouts— though he’s quick to regret it, letting out a loud cry as you begin grinding against him, able to feel the warmth of your pussy through the thin shorts you wear, your breast bouncing from the way your body begins to move.
“You don’t like it?” You ask, tilting your head to watch as he merely shakes his head in response— all you can do is plant yourself to where you can feel his length pressed up against your slit, throbbing against you as you pout at him in false pity, “no you don’t like it, or no you do?”
“I— I…” he doesn’t know how to respond; it seems as though Yeonjun hasn’t figured out the response for himself, but you can feel it from the way his hips buck up into yours, stuttering and without rhythm as he remains defenseless under you.
“You do like it,” you say, mocking at the way he only whimpers from the feeling of your nails digging into his hips, “Feels nice to be on the receiving end, baby?”
Fuck. Fuck, oh fuck, this was strange and new and Yeonjun was definitely enjoying himself more than he thought he should, a melted pile of remorse and love as he pathetically waited for your next move, doe eyes staring up at you as he felt his mouth part, unable to say anything as he gave in to the mean look you sent him.
“Been waiting patiently for me, hmm?” you ask him, thinking back to his earlier words as you watch him nod eagerly in confirmation, “So you bothering me every day of the week was you being patient?”
“I just wanted to talk,” Yeonjun whines out, chest heaving at the way you begin rolling your hips against his, your rhythm firm and dangerous as he feels weak moans leaving him like a stream, “but you— you kept avoiding me, I wanted to get some confirmation that you didn’t break up with me that day…!”
“Yeah?” you mock him, your voice just as whiny and breathy as his as you lean down to him; placing your hands on his chest, you tilt your head, grinding your cunt against him in a way that has him panting and looking for someplace to grab onto, “and did you get your answer?”
Yeonjun doesn’t even think he registered what you said. All he knows is that the way you’re sitting on him is genuinely cruel, especially with the way he hasn’t felt your body against his in so long. His mind is muddled and he can feel himself losing control from the way his hips begin to buck up, his brain going blank except for the thought that he hasn’t felt you against him in what seems like ages, his body so pent up with frustration that he can’t help but chase after the slight pleasure you offer him.
Yeonjun’s mind has blanked out. You can see it in his face, the way it’s twisted with pleasure as he fails to respond to you, body bucking up into you so wildly that you have to steady yourself with two hands pressed firmly against his chest, your balance getting screwed over at his attempts to fuck up into you.
The feeling of your warm hands is enough to bring Yeonjun back, eyes widening in realization as his eyes meet yours, clouded with so much need that it has Yeonjun slowing his pace immediately.
“Fuck, fuck, wait,” he stutters out, eyes widening at the way your cunt is practically leaking onto him— he can feel it through the layers of clothes, “wait wait wait, I’m so— ah, please— so… sososo close, baby, please…!”
“Wait?” you echo, brows furrowing as he nods frantically in response, “thought you didn’t like waiting?”
“No, please, please,” he whimpers, though his hips don’t stop their mindless rutting into your warm cunt, “please, don’t wanna come like this, wanna be inside you.”
“No?” you repeat, the mocking tone of your voice making his eyes screw shut, “why don’t you stop then? It’s all up to you.”
Oh, of course he can stop— though, that doesn’t mean he will, your hips slowly grinding against his as you watch the way his mouth falls open, not a sound falling past it before his hips buck up into you wildly— slowly, you feel a warmth spread beneath you, Yeonjun’s eyes screwed tightly as tears begin to peek from the corners.
“Nooooo nonono, no, not like this,” he cried quietly to himself, ever the hypocrite as his hands fly to your waist, riding out his orgasm with loud, shameless moans.
“Oh, my baby,” you say, pouting at the way he apologizes to you under his breath, “Is that it? Are you done now?”
“No, not done,” he’s quick to respond despite his rattled state of mind, looking up at you through bleary eyes.
“No?” you hum, taking a moment to watch him carefully.
“No,” he repeats, breathless as his grip tightens on your hips— even through the sensitivity, you can still feel his hips roll up into yours, quiet whimpers and whines leaving him as he does so— though, he can’t find it in himself to stop, at least not with the way he has yet to feel you around him.
“God, this is so pitiful,” you say, frowning at the way Yeonjun struggles to sit up underneath you; you’re cupping his face as he looks up at you, teary eyes and flushed face unable to say anything as he simply leans into your touch— the way you coo softly has him pouting, and you can’t resist the urge to hover over his lips, teasing him with a smile as you brush over them, placing chaste kisses that only have him chasing you for more.
“What a good bitch,” you hiss, feeling the way his hands have wandered up to play with your breasts, obsessed as always as his fingers tug and circle your nipples, eager to feel them harden under his touch, “doesn’t matter how many times you cum, hmm? Just need to make me feel good?”
“Yes, yes yes yes,” he babbles, wincing and moaning at the way your lips have begun to wander along his neck, nipping and sucking and leaving enough marks that a person could spot from far away with ease; the way your teeth sink into his skin practically has him crying, and he can feel his heart pounding against his chest the moment he feels you pause, your nose nuzzling into the spot behind his ear, your breath ticklish on his skin as you laugh.
“Are you wearing my perfume, junie?” You mumble, hearing the way he can only whine in embarrassment; he doesn’t answer you, and you bite at his earlobe softly as you wait, silently demanding a response as his hands fall to your hips, gripping them pathetically as though his life depended on it.
“I missed you,” he repeats, the words making you roll your eyes as your hand finds itself in his hair; you’re tugging at it, tilting his head and exposing his neck to you as you begin to nose along the column, closing your eyes to confirm if this is really your scent, “couldn’t smell you on my clothes anymore, love your scent s’much, ah…”
His neck has always been sensitive; that’s exactly why you choose to focus on it so much, not leaving until it’s covered with your marks and his tears have run down them, his soft sniffles making you glance up as you take him in, overstimulated and a mess as he bites his lip in an attempt to quiet himself.
“Too much, baby?” You coo, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back comfortingly, watching as he shakes his head adamantly, his wide eyes shiny and tear-filled as he looks up at you.
“No,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you towards him; his face is buried in your chest, and you can’t hold back the gasp you let out as his mouth immediately attaches itself to your breast, plump lips sucking at it as his tongue runs along it, messy and spit-filled as he looks back up at you, grinding you into him with weak whimpers, “want you to use me, you can do anything you want to me, just wanna please you.”
“Such a good boy for me, junie,” you say, his eyes fluttering close at your fond comment. “Are you gonna listen to me, for once?”
“I always listen to you,” he insists, and you feel irked by his words as you scoff.
“Like hell you do,” you sneer, easily angered as he shrinks down from your cold gaze, “Show me then— strip.”
Yeonjun is eager to listen, eager to please; you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get undressed so quickly, kicking off his pants and throwing his shirt off in some random direction as he looks up at you expectantly, his cock a mess and already beginning to harden as your eyes fall to it.
“Hard already?” You muse, watching the way his cheeks blush red at your comment. Your hand is teasing as you wrap your fingers around his length, your perfect nails shining under the light as you slowly begin to move up and down, the cum from his previous orgasm guiding your movements as he begins to twitch under you, crying softly at the overstimulation.
“Guess you weren’t lying,” you sigh out, finger swiping over his throbbing tip as you hear him yelp at the feeling, “just a cute body for me to use, hmm? You’re nothing but a dick for me to get myself off on?”
Yeonjun is mindlessly agreeing with you— your words are clearly affecting him, his cock leaking and throbbing in your hand, making a mess of it as his head falls back, throat displaying all the marks you left on him earlier like a trophy.
His head is snapping back up the moment you sink onto him. You’re warm, tight, and so fucking wet, his body jolting at the feeling of you clenching around him, taking him inch by inch as he feels the way your walls stretch to adjust to him.
“Fuck…” you hiss, your arousal practically dripping on him from how good he feels— “Yeonjun, shit.”
“Waiiittt, wait, oh god, no— don’t say my name like that, fuck,” Yeonjun begins moaning, your lips quirking into a smile as you watch his eyes screw shut, already knowing what’s coming from the way he holds onto you tighter, head buried into your chest as he tries to still your hips.
“Hmm? What’s wrong?” You ask, feigning innocence as you roll your hips into him, moaning dramatically as you do, “Oh, Yeonjun, Yeonjun— fuck, junie, you feel so good, feel so full…”
He’s shaking his head hopelessly; you know what you’re doing to him, and he feels pathetic by the way he loses his senses the more you sink onto him, his cock twitching in you uncontrollably as he warns you to stop, stop, stop before I…!
“This is embarrassing, Yeonjunie,” you pout, feeling the way a warmth spreads inside you the moment you sit on his hips snugly, feeling him bottomed out inside you as he attempts to muffle his sounds. His ears are bright red and he refuses to show you his face as he keeps you close to him, his arms still hugging you flush against him as you feel the valley of your breasts become wet with his tears.
“Why are you crying, hmm?” You ask him, looking down to see the way he still hides his face, “You’ve already come twice, shouldn’t you be happy? You’re so easy, Yeonjunie.”
Your words are degrading, your voice cold as continue to mock him— and though you pretend otherwise, you can feel the way he ruts his hips into you with every mean comment, clearly enjoying himself more than he lets on as he lets out a broken cry against your skin.
“Fuck, are you seriously getting off to this?” You snap, bored with pretending as though you don’t feel your boyfriend clinging to you tighter as you degrade him, “You’re such a fucking slut— you get off to anything, don’t you?”
The way you pull him away from your skin is sudden and rough, a soft yelp leaving him as he’s finally forced to face you, eyes fluttering open and meeting your own, your face twisted in annoyance as you look down at him.
“Acting like a bitch in heat, already came twice from nothing,” you grit, rolling your hips against his as you watch the way his eyes roll back— your other hand comes up to grip his cheeks, digging into the flesh and squeezing them together as he pouts at you, eyes welling with tears as he feels your nails dig into him.
“Don’t you feel bad? How am I supposed to get myself off if you can barely keep your dick up for more than a minute?” Your eyes darken at the way he simply lets out a pathetic sorry, ‘m so sorry baby, “What? I don’t think I heard you right.”
Your pussy feels so good around him; Yeonjun is barely able to think straight from the way you’ve begun to bounce on his cock ruthlessly, the sight of your breasts bouncing before him hypnotizing as you jerk his head back up to look at you, towering over him and demanding as you slow your hips to a mean grind.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whines out, his words incoherent and mushed together as you keep a hold of his face, listening as you hiss out for what? “‘M sorry for being so impatient— ah, ah, please— ngh, sorry for coming too soon, sorry for…”
He doesn’t finish his sentence. He can’t find the ability to, distracted by the way your sounds have picked up, your fingers rubbing circles on your clit as you continue to use his cock like a toy; his cheeks feel sore as he stares at you with wide eyes, watching your face contort with pleasure, your rhythm become sloppy as you feel your legs getting tired.
You didn’t think Yeonjun would pick up on it; without any warning, you find your back colliding against the couch, your eyes widening as you feel Yeonjun still settled in between your legs, cock still nestled deeply inside you; he’s still a pouty mess above you, hands gripping onto your hips as he begins rutting into you, his thrusts rough and out of control as he takes in your figure hungrily.
“Sorry for making you feel unwanted,” Yeonjun babbles, feeling you throw your arms around his neck from the sudden confession, bringing him in close as you feel his face hover above your own, “I only want you, want you to use me and mark me so others know who I belong to, I’m all yours baby— please, please please please tell me you’re close, wanna feel you come on my cock, wanna make you feel good, missed you, missed this pussy, fuck, mmh, ugh, feel so good, so good, soso good, please, baby—“
Yeonjun thinks you’re something of an aphrodisiac to him; at least, that must be the explanation if he’s able to cum the moment he feels you unravel around him, unrestrained and addicted to the feeling as he listens to your pretty sounds, practically melting as he hears your voice purring under him— so good, fuck, you’re all mine Yeonjunie, all mine…
You don’t think you’ve ever felt Yeonjun cum this much— his cock continues to twitch and release inside you even after you’ve come down from your high, the man above you burying his head into the crook of your neck as he cries softly at the feeling, unable to help the way his hips buck forward to ride out his orgasm.
This shift in dynamic is new— but it’s addicting, and you find yourself thoroughly enjoying the way Yeonjun clings to you, his head hazy and needy for your comfort as he lays on top of you, uncaring of how heavy he may be as he wraps his strong arms around you.
Missed you s’much baby, missed you, please don’t do that again, you could hear him mutter into your skin, a bit out of it as he peppered kisses along your collarbones.
“Alright, alright, I won’t,” you breathe out, running your fingers through his hair soothingly as he leans into your touch like a cat, “I’m sorry I kept running away from you.”
“But then again,” you trail off, tightening your grip on his hair teasingly, feeling the way he immediately whines softly, “you should’ve given me space when I asked you to. It was kinda cute, but don’t do that again— okay?”
“Okay. Of course. Whatever you say,” his response is immediate, not an ounce of hesitation as he stares at you with eyes shining with devotion. After a second, his lips part, and he’s hovering over you again as he looks down at you in wonder.
“Does that mean we’re boyfriend-girlfriend again?”
You laugh.
“You idiot,” you coo, placing a soft kiss on his lips, unable to control your laugh as you do, “We didn’t stop being boyfriend-girlfriend. I was just mad at you.”
“Hmm. Then, can I eat you out?” His words have you freezing, looking at him in bewilderment as he simply smiles at you sheepishly, “To like. Show you how sorry I am.”
A pause.
“…And, because I really missed eating you out.”
You sigh— and try not to show how eager you are as you nod softly. Yeonjun however, is shameless as he immediately pulls out, hissing softly at the feeling before he’s sinking to his stomach— you’re gulping at the sight.
“You’re insatiable.” Your comment doesn’t faze him— if anything, it makes him smile, his pretty eyes staring at you with enough adoration and love that you’re squirming slightly under him.
“For you, yeah.”
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
On Monday, the sight of Yeonjun on campus is enough to have you spinning on your heels and running in the opposite direction. He wears nothing but a thin tank top, wondering why you’re yelling at him to cover up the moment he answers your phone call.
“Why? It’s hot outside— …and, like, I wanna show everyone who I belong to.”
(You refuse to stand by his side until he covers up—though, you can’t ignore the way his words send butterflies through your stomach.)
#txt fanfic#txt fanfiction#txt imagines#txt oneshots#txt ff#txt angst#txt fluff#yeonjun x reader#yeonjun x you#yeonjun x y/n#yeonjun ff#yeonjun imagines#yeonjun oneshot#txt smut#txt hard hours#txt hard thoughts#yeonjun smut#sub yeonjun#sub txt
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Wait ur halloween blirb got me drooling. The public humiliation mnnnnph.
Made me think... art accidentally calling u mommy in front of his tennis bros (and ur girl friends but they probably knew what kinda freaky shit their hg was into)
i <3 art being publicly humiliated mm mm mm it makes my heart swell.
he just always puts on such a show down at the courts ! smashing rackets and shooting cold looks at opponents. it’s all so calculated but he loves the attention. he loves being able to control the perception of him that the public puts together. adores being seen as a competent (albeit sometimes hotheaded), talented, strong tennis player.
so if you were to just get him to.. crack that facade a little..
ohh god, he’d be a mess. like he can’t really be mad at you. he put himself here. he did this. he let you get inside his head and now he’s saying and doing stupid shit in public that he can’t take back.
and it happens when his brain is least functional.
right after a long training session, or after a huge match.
in this case, it was the former.
he’d just finished up a 2 hour long rigorous training session and he’d agreed to come meet you at some smoothie place on campus.
when he gets there, sweaty and disheveled, his eyes instantly find you at a table outside and then he’s dragging his feet to get there. tunnel vision takes over. slumps right down next to you in an empty metal chair and pushes his face into your neck. you chuckle and pet his hair.
“hey, baby… you look tired,” you hum, still stroking your fingers through his messy strands. the smell of fresh sweat and warm skin is wafting off of him in heavy waves.
he pushes himself closer to you, a little whine slipping from his chest. he shakes his head and keeps his eyes closed before his left hand finds the back of your top.
“can we go?” he breathes out.
“Art, I ju—“
he whines again—a bit louder.. a bit more intentionally— as soon as he senses the word ‘no’ coming.
“please..” he whispers, his fingers curl in the fabric of your shirt, “need you right now.. please mommy…”
and it’s like the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight up. the simple words coming out in that utterly exhausted tone send heat boiling right down into your stomach.
art doesn’t get why it suddenly feels like the world went quiet until he realizes that he never registered the fact that three of your closest friends are sitting on the other side of the table.
he feels like he could just about die.
you nervously chuckle and look to your friends, all of them giving you either a surprised or knowing look before they all lean back in their seats and giggle amongst each other.
their laughter gets art’s blood curdling in the most delicious way, and suddenly he feels something warm twitching to life in his shorts. oh no.
he doesn’t dare pull his face from your neck. you’re his shield now. his chance at redeeming himself be damned ! he made his bed the moment he let you indulge his kink.
this is what he gets.
and you’ll be sure to remind him of it when you get him out of this mess and then face-down into the mattress to make a new one all over the bedspread..
#🌸 - ask prompts#💌 - mutuals#angellll…. art humiliation ??? …. yea yea yea mhm#im on a mommy kink art kick omfg#need it bad#GAHHH#need him squirming and whimpering out mommy everytime my strap touches his womb#like that’s my angel#art donaldson smut#art donaldson x reader
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I really like your writing! I'm so glad I found your page. I was wondering if I could do a drabble or little one shot ask about the 141 boys (poly or individual doesn't matter either way) I just had this idea because there's so many ideas about the boys not thinking they're good enough for their girl but what if it was the opposite way and I was wondering what you'd think their reactions would be.
The idea is that their girl is on the phone with her friend thinking they can't hear her talking (maybe they were asleep or out for a run or something) and her friend asks how things are going with them. Their girl full on gushes about the boys to her friend and her friend is like "oooo sounds like love to me! Have you told them yet?" And their girl is like "I... No of course not...They can't love me, I couldn't possibly expect them to."
This is long but thank you for listening to me ramble!
PLEASE I got so sappy with this one I just couldn't stop my fingers from typing. Also you're such a sweetheart <333
Warnings: Mentions of self-doubt, food, mentions of sex. Fem!Reader. MDNI.
Kyle Garrick:
Kyle’s had a long day, and the man just wants a proper cup of tea. He starts down the hallway, but when he hears his name coming from your room, he stops dead in his tracks. He knows it’s wrong, but he can’t help but crack your door open to eavesdrop a bit.
“I’m telling you, he’s perfect! When I have a bad day, he’ll take me out for coffee, or we’ll go for a walk or just look around the pet store. Sometimes he’ll even do my laundry! It’s- it’s not a crush anymore. I’m in love with him,” you ramble on to your friend, who’s giggling with glee over the speaker of your phone.
“Well, have you told him?” She questions excitedly, and you go quiet for a moment.
“Of course I haven’t. Why would I? It’s not… it’s not like he feels the same. I’d just be hurting myself,” you reply sadly.
Kyle frowns deeply, and he’s almost positive he can physically feel his heart breaking. God, he’d rather fall out of another helo than ever hear you sound so distraught again. He wants nothing more than to barge into your room and pull you into his arms, kiss away all your doubts and prove to you just how much he loves you. Instead, the sound of your voice brings him back to reality.
“I think I’m gonna grab a snack. It was good talking to you,” you hang up the phone and open your door, surprised to see your roommate standing right there. “Kyle! Shit, did- did you-? I’m so-”
“Y’mean it?” Kyle asks softly, not wanting you to feel embarrassed.
Even so, you sheepishly nod your head, unable to meet his eyes. His warm hands cup your face and lift your head up to look at him, and he smiles so warmly that you can’t help but do the same.
“Silly girl. I love you, too.”
John Price:
The base was dead today, barely any paperwork to do or new recruits to train. For the first time in months, John was able to get off on time, and he decided to surprise you with a bouquet of flowers and your favorite Indian food. When he arrives at your flat, he uses his spare key to unlock the door and steps inside, kicking off his boots—ever since that one time you playfully lectured him on keeping your home clean, he’s engraved the rule into his brain.
John sets your gifts on the island in your kitchen, glancing around for any signs of where you could be. You’re definitely home, he can tell that much by your keys dangling off the holder and your own shoes by the door. He carefully steps through the hallway and hears your unmistakable voice in the bathroom, along with the quiet sound of running water. He goes to turn the handle but decides against it when he hears his name slip from your lips.
“God, I love John so much, you don’t understand. He’s everything I could ever want. Every time I see him, I just- I wanna kiss him stupid, y’know? I mean, shit, he’s already seen every part of me since he’s my best friend and all.”
“So… when are you gonna tell him? It sounds like he’s interested, babe,” your friend’s voice rings through your phone. “Best friends don’t normally just see each other naked.”
“Oh, stop it. There’s no way he could feel the same. I’m just… I couldn’t ask that of him. It wouldn’t be fair.”
John’s heard enough. He trudges back into the kitchen and fixes your plate of takeout, as well as a glass of wine and some chocolates. He arranges the food on a tray and brings it back to the bathroom, not even bothering to knock before walking inside. You scream, and normally he would laugh, but he’s so hurt that you think you’re unworthy of his love, and he’s dead set on proving otherwise.
“Do you always scare the shit out of people you’re trying to surprise?” You laugh, hand resting on your chest as if it’ll calm your beating heart.
“Only the one I’m in love with, sweet girl.”
Simon Riley:
“M’gonna step out for a smoke, love,” Simon informs you, and you nod politely.
The coffee shop is a little too crowded for Simon’s liking, and he needs a break. Your company is the sweetest he could ask for, and he feels bad leaving you for even a second, but the demons in his head were begging for an escape. Still, he stands by the window where your table is located just so he can keep an eye on you. Call it a weakness, but when he sees you messaging your friend, he can’t tear his eyes away from the conversation. Thank the heavens for the little slip-up the café made, having the one-way windows installed inside out.
yeah he’s like,,, stupidly perfect
it’s like he’s trying to make me lose it???
like sir i’m already in love with you
what more do you want
lmaooo why haven’t u told him yet????
he’s obviously in love with ur dumb ass too
oh fuck off
you know we’re just friends
don’t give me hope
Simon frowns deeply, tossing the butt of his cigarette on the ground and crushing it with his boot. He’s spent his whole life in shackles, deeming himself unlovable, unworthy of anything good or sweet or kind. But when he met you, those thoughts dissolved like melting snow—he even took the mask off for you. He didn’t even know it was possible to love somebody so much, so to have the one person he adores more than anything in the world doubt herself? He won’t have it.
He reenters the coffee shop in a hurry, long legs striding over to you as quickly as possible. Before you can even react, he leans down to press his lips against yours, hands firmly on your face to keep you still. When he pulls back, he’s near tears looking at your shocked expression.
“I don’t love y’like a friend. I love y’like a man loves his wife, like you’re the air I breathe. I’ve always been yours, y’hear me? Always.”
Johnny MacTavish:
Johnny’s expecting to feel your warm body beside his when he wakes, but instead he’s met with the soft thud of his arm onto the unoccupied sheets where you should be. He frowns and rubs the sleep from his eyes, checking his phone—it’s only 4:00 in the morning, and the sun isn’t even out yet. You’ve obviously not been in bed for a while, and it worries him. Did you leave in the middle of the night, all by yourself? Shit, what if something bad happened to you?
Johnny hops out of bed and quickly pulls on his jeans from last night, starting a frantic search through his house. You’re not in the bathroom, or in any of the spare rooms, not even the sunroom where you love to cozy up and read a book. The last place he thinks to check is the kitchen, and lo and behold, there you are, brewing some coffee and talking on the phone to someone. Your best friend, he realizes, when you put the call on speaker to pour yourself a cup.
“It’s just… last night, he told me he loved me, and it- I don’t know. It ruined me. I couldn’t even finish, I had to fake it.”
Johnny freezes and leans against the door frame. His stomach feels sick suddenly—did he really fuck up that bad last night? God, he knew he should have just kept his mouth shut, but he figured there was no better time to confess his feelings for you while he was… well, inside of you. He really thought you felt the same. Your little sniffle drags him out of his thoughts, and his eyes land on your now crying figure once again.
“N-no, you don’t understand. I know he just said it because of the sex. I’m not… he couldn’t love me. Not the way I love him. We’re just friends who happen to sleep together sometimes. It’s my own fault for catching feelings when he- he deserves someone so much better,” the break in your voice destroys Johnny and all he can do is listen as your best friend calms you down.
He doesn’t make a move until you’ve hung up. Only after you’ve set the phone down does he come barreling in, wrapping his strong arms around you, ignoring your shriek of surprise. Johnny pulls back to cup your face in his hands, thumbs wiping away the fresh tears that managed to slip past your waterline.
“Ye’re the only one ah want. D’ye understand? Ye’re the only one fer me. Ah meant wha’ ah said, hen, ah love ye. There’s no’ a force on this earth tha’ could make me want ye less. Ye’re mine, alreit? As much as ah’m all yers.”
#hahaha why am i crying#ask me!#call of duty#cod#cod mw2#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#johnny soap mactavish#john price x reader#simon riley x reader#kyle garrick x reader#johnny mactavish x reader#cod x reader#fem!reader
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ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: sex toys (like the wevibe jive or lovense lush/vulse), masturbation, phone sex, fluff, mild angst and serious yearning, novelty hats, Joel doesn't forget the balls, reader has a mom (inc. vague mentions of other family), no use of y/n word count: 4k summary: You're exhausted. The special kind. The kind that only comes with visiting your family for Thanksgiving. Still, the exhaustion can't keep that yearning ache at bay, the ache you've been fending off all day. So, in the dark of the night, you reach out to Joel in the only way you can.
A/N: we're ignoring that this is well over 2 weeks later than I planned. we're not ignoring that this is the penultimate fic in this accidental series. the final installment will be coming to you all sometime in the coming weeks, and I hope you can join me in seeing off these two lovebirds right where it all began. see you soon 💛
follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics
It's late when you fall into bed, sinking into the shape of yourself indented into a mattress you'd long left behind.
You're exhausted. The special kind. The kind that only comes with visiting your family for Thanksgiving.
It was stupid to have expected anything else really. Between the travelling, over indulgence, and endless socializing and catching up with family, there wasn't a chance you'd be anything other than bone tired and irritable. Wasn't that how these things always went?
In fact, from the moment you'd been welcomed by your mom with open arms and an it's good to have you home, you'd been annoyed. You couldn't even quite put your finger on why until Joel had sent his first message that morning; a picture of him and Sarah in matching holiday t-shirts, wearing matching squinting eyed grins, with a message that read wish you were here, and you wished you were too.
It wasn't until the fifth welcome home that day that you realized home hadn't been this place in a long time. Home, instead, was a million miles away, in Austin, Texas.
Home was sat on his couch, sharing a bag of chips with his daughter.
Home was chatting shit with his brother, cracking open a cold one on the patio.
Home was probably curled up in bed, holding a pillow close to himself to fill the empty space left by you.
Home was Joel Miller.
And home wasn't here.
At dinner, you'd made a decent effort to fill the Joel shaped void in your chest with mashed potatoes and stuffing, eating until your stomach ached so much that any other part of you couldn't possibly ache for any other reason. By the time dessert rolled around, the longing was back, clawing at you and pulling you toward a family that could be yours, if only you'd let it, until you filled that aching void again with too much pie and wine.
It was back now, that ache. Softer and gentler now that you were alone. More creeping than clawing as it worked its way back up your spine, latching at your throat with a squeeze rather than the bruising grip from earlier in the day.
It was that very same ache - that longing - that made you send maybe the most pathetic text you'd ever sent in your life.
you up?
He shouldn't be, you don't think. If it's late here it's even later there. He has a kid. Responsibilities you have been reminded over and over by "well meaning" family members that you don't have. At any rate, he had better things to do than to keep you company in the middle of the night, when the longing got too much to bear alone. Because you are alone, in this house filled with people - people you love - and you think that maybe you've never been more alone than now because, suddenly, alone feels a lot like lonely and -
The shrill ring of your phone stops your spiralling thoughts and, in a panic, you slap at the screen just to shut it up, rolling over until the brightness of it blinds you, and then you hear him.
His familiar drawl is softer than usual. He sounds tired, but content, almost like you can hear the smile in his voice and the crinkle in his eyes.
"Was hopin' I'd hear from you."
Your brain has stuttered to a stop. You're not breathing, not blinking, barely moving where you lie on your front, propped on your elbows, staring down at the too-bright screen of your phone where Joel stares back. It's just a picture - one you'd taken some weeks ago as you sat next to him on his couch and had looked at every day since. It was a good picture. He looked beautiful - soft and comfortable in his own home, looking right at you. Fuck, do you miss him.
"Hello? Y'ain't fallen asleep on me that quick, have you?"
You blink, shake yourself, and curse under your breath, catching Joel's raspy laugh as you fumble with your phone and smack it to the side of your head much harder than you meant to.
"Fuck, fuck, ow, yes, sorry. Hello," you garble, before taking a deep breath. "Hello. Hi."
"Hey there, darlin'," he says back, that smile so evident on his voice you're grinning right back at him in the dark. "You okay? Doze off for a little there?"
"Sorry it's - it's just your voice. Sounds better than I remember," you laugh softly. "Wasn't expecting it."
"Only been a couple days," he teases, and the familiar, comfortable ease of being with Joel blankets you. From what feels like so very far away he's managed to crawl back into your chest and illuminate the dark, empty cavern inside of it in a matter of moments. You never stood a chance.
"I know," you sigh as you roll over and flick on a bedside lamp to keep the creeping dark at bay. "I've missed you. Today was... not fun."
"Wanna talk about it?"
"Not really."
By this point you knew him well enough to know he was running his tongue across his teeth, nodding in that gentle, understanding way he did whenever you'd complain about work, or how you'd kicked the kitchen cabinet by accident yet again. For as much as he'd barrelled into your life, he was always so very gentle with the parts you gave, and even gentler with the parts that you weren't yet ready for him to see. Fuck, do you love him.
He hums then, in just the way you'd expect, and you listen to the delicate sounds of each others breaths for a beat before he breaks the silence.
"Wanna tell me what that surprise you were teasin' me was instead?"
Shit. You'd forgotten about that. Sort of.
This morning you'd almost pulled it out, plan set to tease Joel with it all day. One look at the thing in your hand, and the idea of your cunt pulsing away while you tried to have a conversation with your mother turned you off from that idea entirely.
Now, it sat back in your bag, tucked away and hidden in the closet, away from the prying eyes of your family, and almost forgotten entirely by you.
"It can wait," you say hastily, flapping a hand in the air as if there was any chance he could see you.
"Now hold on a sec. You were teasin' me with that all week. Told me I couldn't have it at home, it was best to show me from all the way over there. Now, I don't know what you're plannin', but you got two days to show me what mischief you been makin', sweetheart, or all that fuss before was for nothin'."
You don't answer, instead eyeing the closet and weighing up your chances of waking anyone in the house if you did show Joel the little surprise you'd been planning on giving him for weeks.
"Think I can make a few guesses, don't you?"
"You could try," you scoff, knowing Joel's eyebrows are making a valiant attempt to meet his hairline right now.
"Try?" he asks, all too innocently. "Just tell me somethin', then. You doin' that thing where you touch yourself without even realizin' it?"
Your hand stops just at it's about to make another loop across your chest and down the softness of your stomach. "No."
He tuts down the line, and you can see the tick of his head behind your eyes, pinched shut as if he'd just caught you in the act in person.
"And you're gonna tell me your little surprise got nothin' to do with that."
That happened to be the way you always found yourself touching yourself in some way whenever you spoke to Joel, from whatever distance you found yourself from him. Not always in a sexy way either, though more often than not it was. Sometimes it was just soothing, you supposed. Listening to him talk while your hands played idly on your skin calmed you better than just about anything else, and here you were, soothing yourself with his voice from across the miles, your hands tracing the patterns you wished his could. It was nice - a connection to him even through the distance that wasn't just audible, but physical too.
Which was the exact point of your little surprise - a way to be with Joel without actually being with Joel.
"It might."
Joel's stubborn silence is about all you need to know the man isn't about to back down and let you off the hook any time soon. "Fine, but you've got to give me a second to grab it."
You huff in faux annoyance and haul your ass out of bed, tired bones creaking, but the weariness you'd felt all day slowly fading away as excitement creeps in to replace it.
"Can hear you movin' around."
You're glad for it. You hope he can hear every single thing - the soft click of the closet door, the thud of pillows propped up on the bed you spent years of your life sleeping in, the creak of springs as you settle yourself back into the unfamiliar sheets covering it, how you pull up your shirt just so and rest the surprise you'd stashed away across the miles right between your bare breasts. You hope he hears you fumble and tap at your phone as you take picture after picture, until you get one just right, and scramble to hit send.
It's a hope that's realized when you hear his breath hitch and the words get lost in his throat.
"Well," he says with a cough. "Don't quite know what the surprise for me is. Never hid those beauties from me before though, so I'm gonna have to say it's the pretty thing between 'em. Think I can guess where it goes. You gonna let me listen in?"
"Maybe," you say just as you hit send on another message to Joel. "Was kinda hoping you'd give me a hand though."
"What -"
He sounds muffled, but you can hear him mumbling to himself as his thick fingers tap away at his phone screen. And then, exactly as you hoped, the toy sitting on your chest rumbles to life and you could almost cry at the feeling. You grasp it in your fist, just as the other motor hums into action and starts gently thrusting against your palm. For a moment, the intensity gets so much your skin starts to tingle, until it dies down and then finally rumbles to a stop.
"This what I think it is? You really get this so I can play with you like this?" he asks, voice laced in disbelief.
"Yeah," you say, the toy in your hand purring into action again.
"You ain't put it in yet, have you?"
"Not yet," you murmur. "But I can feel you."
"Yeah?" he says, and a moment later the vibrations strengthen and weaken against your hand, like a wave coming in strong before pulling back out to sea. "Y'feel that?"
"Mhm."
The toy buzzes to life and quickly shuts off over and over, short stacatto bursts of vibrations tickling your hand, and you laugh at the silliness of it. "Joel. That's not gonna get anyone off. You're just gonna break it."
"What? It ain't nice like that?" he jokes.
"Feeling you is always nice."
"Know what'd be even nicer?" he asks. "Takin' off them panties and lettin' me really put this thing to use. Feel me where you really need it. Know you gotta be wet down there - your brain don't shut off like that when I'm talking to you if you ain't."
Your panties are flung across the room barely a moment later, your fingers skating gently along the edges of them before you yanked them down your legs. You are wet, panties soaked through in the middle, cunt sensitive and ready for a cock that isn't coming. Despite the obvious emptiness, and even more painfully obvious lack of Joel in the room, you know you're about to come quicker than you have in some time. You can barely swipe your own fingers through your slick folds, gathering your own wetness to smear it over the toy, without holding back a moan.
"That's it. Can hear you. Think we oughta start off nice 'n' gentle, huh?"
The air hitches in your lungs as the toy thrums to life. You guide the gentle buzz down your front, leaving a slick trail of your own wetness over the softness of your belly, before teasing down and down, between your legs and across already twitching thighs.
You circle your cunt with it, teasing with its vibrating tip, eyes pinched shut while Joel keeps it soft and steady for you as you slip it across slick coated skin and up to your clit.
"That good?"
He sounds so soft, almost breathless. You hope he's touching himself too, but you don't have the words to ask. If you open your mouth you're going to let out the moan you're so desperately holding back, your bottom lip sore with it, and the idea of anyone waking up, of ruining this for you now when it's just begun, is enough to keep your lips sealed tight.
"Mhm."
"S'good. Think you're playin' with that clit now, huh?"
You nod. Stupidly. Yet somehow he knows. He always knows. And the toy buzzes harder, intensity sliding up so gently as you were swirling it around yourself you almost didn't notice until the vibrations dancing past your clit forced the moan out of you, face turned into the pillow to stifle it.
"Gotta keep quiet," he says then. "Y'aint alone over there, darlin'. But I ain't with you to put that mouth to use either."
You groan again. You can't control it. It comes out low and strong, the phone you were grasping so tightly left forgotten against the pillow by your ear so you can clutch the plush pillow to your face instead, biting it.
"Too good," you say around a mouthful of pillow. "I need to put it in, Joel, it's gonna make me come too fast - shit - just knowing - knowing you're there, doing that and I - fuck..."
"Put it in. Slip it in that wet little hole for me. You feel that? Feel me in there?"
It's easy, sliding it into you. It's only small - you certainly have bigger - but so very powerful. Not the motor, no, but the way it, and Joel's control over it, have you a sopping mess already.
"I feel you," you say, Joel turning sliding on the other setting - the thrust you felt in your palm minutes ago - setting the toy wiggling and buzzing inside you. "Fuck, I feel you."
You dig your nails into your thighs, letting them bite into the soft, sensitive flesh to pull you back, to pull you down from whatever high you were going toward. It's too much and it's not enough all at once. You want him - need him - desperately, but he's so damn far away and somehow that makes this all the sweeter and all the more bitter, all in one.
"Wish I could be fuckin' you for real, feel you twitchin' on my cock. You twitchin'?" he asks, that breathlessness back in his voice again, and you just know he's joining you. You can see his hand gripped tight around his cock, his head slick and ruddy, squeezing more than stroking, holding back just like you were desperately trying to.
"Don't want to yet. Want this to last - ah - won't have you for days."
"Look at you," he mutters, the vibrations inside you kicking up a notch. "Can't go a few days without me."
And you never want to again.
"Touch that clit for me. Wish I could do it for you. Know how much y'need it."
At his guidance, your grip on your thighs releases. You stroke one quivering hand across your mound. You're so tense. From the day, sure, but from holding back too. All damn day you've held back. Held back looking at your phone in front of anyone. Held back saying Joel's name, mentioning the man who had you so distracted even from so far away. Held back talking about his amazing daughter, and the little family you'd accidentally and gladly fallen into. Held back telling everyone about the life you'd carved for yourself a million miles away from here, so different from the one you left behind. Held back, held back, held back.
Even now you're holding back, but fuck, are you ready to fly.
"Need to see you," you beg, a little too loudly, but you can't bring yourself to care. The combination of him working away in your cunt and your fingers stroking against your swollen clit are too much. You need to see him. "Please. I'm close. I'm -"
There's a shuffle and then the screen illuminates against your face just as the pulsing throb in your cunt gets stronger. You fumble, grabbing it just before it slips beneath your shoulder, and squint against the brightness, eyes adjusting until you see the beautiful face of Joel.
He's smiling. Face as flushed as you imagine yours is.
"Fuck -" you gasp. He looks better than you remember. Even at this terrible angle, the extreme close up of his face. He's shirtless. You can see his bare, tanned collarbones, the slope of his traps into his shoulders. "Fuck."
"You really that close?" you watch him say, your eyes fixated on the way his mouth moves around each word. So fixated, you barely notice him pull back the camera, or shift it upwards, until his full head is in view.
Including the turkey hat perched on top of it.
You almost stop swiping your fingers across your clit.
Almost.
"You asshole," you moan, as Joel's face lights up. He frowns then too, a look of concentration flicking over his face, tukey legs flapping by his ears, until you feel the damned thing rumbling inside you thrust wilder, wiggling against that very spot usually reserved for Joel's fingers. "Fu-uck. You - you just put that hat on. I heard you."
"This old thing?" he says with wobble of his head that sends the turkey flopping from side to side.
"Take it off. I'm close Joel, I-"
He shrugs. You watch him fucking shrug as you speed up the movement of your fingers, teasing yourself as he teases you in every sense of the word and, somehow, it does nothing but get you wetter, sends your legs quivering and your brain desperately trying to hold on for a little bit longer. "Don't think it's enough to stop you. Never had a problem comin' before. Think you can come no matter what I'm wearin'."
"Fuck," you say again, because it's true. And he smirks, because he knows it is too.
"You can do it. Keep rubbin' that thing for me, can tell you're so fuckin' close."
"Are you hard? Please. I need to know, I can't, I'm - I -"
"Where the fuck do you think my other hand is, huh? You wanna see 'im? Know you said you missed me but I bet you're really fuckin' missin' him right now, ain't you?"
"Please."
You're loud. You know you are. Even as you beg, you know it's too loud, and you know these walls are too damn thin for this. The only thing saving your ass right now is holiday exhaustion and too much pie.
When Joel flips his camera, you damn near come immediately. He's cupping his balls, massaging them while his solid cock desperately leaks. He's holding himself back for you - fuck, you love him - he's waited for you all this time, hoping to hear from you, thinking of you as he played with himself alone, so far away from you and your helping hands.
"Oh my god, I swear, I swear I've never wanted it more. I need it."
"I believe you," he breathes, jerking his cock in his massive hand. "You're gonna get it, darlin'. Second you're back here, gonna bend you over your kitchen counter and fuck you right there. Keep makin' them pretty noises for me now. That's it. Need more fuckin' hands..."
"I'm gonna, I'm gonna -"
And you do. Joel makes one last flick across his phone screen, the intensity rumbling in you reaching a peak, your fingers rub, rub, rubbing at your clit as you watch his heavy cock throb in his hand, and you come, clenching and fluttering around the unrelenting toy as you swear and moan right down the phoneline.
Joel isn't far behind. Even fucked out and exhausted, you somehow keep your eyes open, keep the toy lodged in you, buzzing away, pulling aftershocks out of you as you watch Joel work his cock until he's spilling all over his fist and thigh with a shakey groan.
"Shit."
You yank the toy from you when it becomes too much to bear, leaving it wet and rumbling on the sheets. Joel cleans up - a softly murmurred be right back, leaving you face down on his bed as you become a boneless sack filled with too much pie and longing in your own bed, so very far from his.
"You made me come in a turkey hat," you say sleepily when his face reappears on your phone screen, that very same hat still pulled tight on his head. You can see his own exhaustion now, each line and shadow on his face exacerbated by the late hour and low light.
"Think we both know you came with me wearin' weirder before. You like the weird."
"You like the weird."
"I love the weird."
He yawns. His massive hand covering his mouth, eyes closing in on themselves, rolling his head - and that stupid turkey hat - on his neck, and he's maybe never looked better. Silly, sleepy, content. Yours.
"I love you."
You don't know why you say it, exactly. You suppose you think it so loud it just slipped out. Fuck knows you'd toyed with it enough. Started saying how much you love his laugh or love his hair in the morning. Text him it. You love him. It should be easy. But it wasn't, even if he said it to you a thousand times over, a thousand different ways, without the many miles between you.
Joel doesn't hesitate, not even for a second. "Come say that to my face."
"I will," you say. "I promise, I will."
There's four days between you, and as many phonecalls. As many I love you's too. Practice makes perfect, they say. And you have a promise to keep.
You say another I love you to your mother when she pulls you in for one last hug, and you mean that just as much, even though that's never been easy either. Practice makes perfect.
She pulls away, pushing you toward something else, when you load your bags into the car, welcome home turned to safe journey home. From where home was to where home is. You know she sees it too.
Soft smiles, a kiss to your head. Whispers of I'm so happy for you, I can't wait to meet him, and you're off, away, longing for where love is.
She sees it too.
When you land in Austin that evening, you drive past the door with the lock that started it all, the key sat forgotten at the bottom of your bag. One knock is all it takes, and he's there.
"I love you."
next part
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#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fic#pedro pascal characters#coveted fics#big bawl jawl#never forget the balls#fic: dress up joel
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Yo! Hello its me again! Could i please request like a reverse isekai where the kny characters end up in reader's house? And maybe she is like Mad rich but like.. Not a spoiled brat she likes to do charity and make money for herself and maybe she is living with her cousins, she is smark but can be stupid (if you know what i mean) i don't know, you can do whatever you want, (there is not enough reverse isekai fanfictions😭), anyhow, hope you have a good day and you didn't get sick of my (a lot) requests😁🫶🏻👋🏻
Hashira getting reverse isekai’d
Your favourite hashira suddenly appeared inside your home! How will they react to your home and the modern world?
Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Giyu x gn!reader
Sanemi Shinazugawa
He will not adjust to this change quietly— he is ready to destroy and slice every single piece of tech that decides to randomly beep or talk to him. You once found Sanemi trying to get his katana out of your ceiling after throwing it with full force against your smoke detector, after it beeped to remind you to change battery. It scared the shit out of him, so he put an end to that thing. Often times when using your phone, Sanemi accidentally activates Siri. He first thought that a demon was speaking through the phone with some kind of blood demon art, then, after explaining to him what exactly Siri is and what she does, he just begins cursing her and cussing her out every time she activates on him. You once had to remind him not to grip it so tightly, or else your screen might crack.
A thing he really, really likes about your modern home though is your bathroom. The shower, the large mirror, sink, toilet… just everything about it. The first time he stepped into your shower and closed the glass door behind himself, Sanemi was first confused about the shower settings. He turned every knob that is able to be turned, both cooking himself alive and dodging the water in fear of freezing, achieving both of these things in one shower. Once he finally found the perfect temperature, it was time to test all of the products you have, and not sparingly. Shampoo, conditioner, hair masks, shower gel, body scrub and whatever else he could get his fingers on— once he got out of the shower and returned to you, his smell was almost overwhelming, but at least you know now that his har is somehow able to look even better than before.
After a long adjustment period, you sometimes catch Sanemi watching the TV. He made himself comfortable in a corner of your couch, cuddled up in heated blankets (he learned how to use the settings all by himself!) and watching one movie after another. He’s quite the binge-watcher apparently, watching one action movie after another for hours on end. At the end of such day, he’ll complain about his eyes burning up without having any idea how that happened.
“Hey, wanna join me? Blanket s’ warm and I found a movie about some weird metal things moving really, really fast and guys kicking each other’s asses— Huh? Cars? Are those these fast carriages sliding around on there?”
Kyojuro Rengoku
He is incredibly curious about every single thing and would try to understand how everything works. Kyojuro would inspect your microwave and press every button their is, watching the pizza pocket he threw into there react to the different settings and then grieving about how the once weird snacks he wanted to try turned into a piece of burnt remains. Despite being the most comfortable with the traditional meals he used to eat, Kyojuro would love to try any dish you even mentioned by name once! Since you can get your food delivered to your front door, Kyojuro can try as many different cultural dishes as he can get his hands on! Or as many as you can get delivered to tour home. Ordering food is something he always gets very excited about, like what do you mean you can order all kinds of cultural food in a matter of minutes? How do the restaurants have all the ingredients available and are always ready to serve customers? And why do you refuse to order a so-called Happy Meal for him? Isn’t it supposed to make one happy?
Another thing Kyojuro is very excited about is the gym. He accidentally stumbled upon a fitness center after returning from buying groceries, staring at the people training inside with those weird machines. The hashira spotted a couple of people build broader and stronger than him, making him realise that this may be some kind of modern training ground. He begged on his hands and knees for a membership so he can explore all these new machines and weight excursuses. Once Kyojuro got inside, he was like a child in a candyshop. He spend the whole day testing out every machine, noting his own limits and setting goals on how to get even stronger. Despite no demons terrorising your world, he still wants to keep his muscles and gain strength to offer nice pillows you can lay your head on and also have the ability to open sealed jars for you without struggling.
“Can we order sweet potato tonight? I miss eating it, and it’s my comfort dish…. Also, I believe I may have started to develop homesickness. I miss my brother the most, though… Not that I don’t like it here, I love it! I just miss my father and brother, that’s all.”
Giyu Tomioka
Staying true to his nature, Giyu would be silent and awkward in this new space. He’s scared of offending you in any way but simply taking his haori off or sitting down onto your couch since he has no idea about the manners and behaviours expected from him in this world, but at the same time doesn’t bother to ask you in order to not burden you in any way. So, he quietly followed you around the house in and inspect your furniture and decorations, sometimes curiously picking something up and inspecting its function. His favourite object so far is a rubix cube he found on your desk. You caught him turn the sides, trying to understand what the point of this thing is. Does it have something on the inside? Why are the colours all scrambled up? While watching his irritation grow because of not being able to sort the colours, you suggested that Giyu can keep it and try to solve it after giving him a small briefing on what the point of the cube is. Thanking you, he kept the rubix cube on his body to play around with it whenever he has time. He is seriously invested in it and really wants to solve it in order to prove to himself that he can solve a complex puzzle and to maybe even impress you a little.
Also, you discovered that Giyu likes noise-canceling headphones, music and e-books. You often find him cuddled up together on your sofa, his face illuminated by your Ipad in his hands. You could hear the faint sounds of soft and slow music from the headphones he was wearing. He looks incredibly invested in whatever he is reading, so you snuck up on him and glanced over his shoulder, reading a couple of lines. It wasn’t a fantasy story or a random novel like you thought, but Giyu was actually reading an article about the behaviour of cats. Adorable, you thought, so you left him be and went on with your day. The water hashira eyed your form as you left, sneakily switching tabs and returning to what he was actually reading: a fluffy romance novel. He looks over his shoulder twice, thrice, checking if you are still near before feeling comfortable enough to continue his reading in peace.
“Can I borrow your.. headphones? They’re called headphones, right? Yes, I’d like to borrow them again. I want to use them to have more silence, you are being very loud and I wanted to read something.”
💠
You never bother me with your requests! They are always so fun to write for!! Also, I hope it’s okay I kind of “simplified” your request— I hope you enjoyed this anyway. Also, I didn’t include Gyomei because I was unsure of what exactly to write for him, but I may update this tomorrow and a small scenario for him <3
Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!
Take care of yourselves <3
#💠 house of vry 💠#sanemi x reader#sanemi x y/n#sanemi x you#kyojuro x reader#kyojuro x you#kyojuro x y/n#kyojuro rengoku x reader#rengoku kyoujurou x reader#rengoku x reader#rengoku x y/n#rengoku x you#giyu x reader#giyuu x you#giyuu x reader#giyu x you#giyuu x y/n#giyu x y/n#demon slayer x reader#kny x reader#demon slayer#fluff#demon slayer hashira#reverse isekai#demon slayer x y/n#kny x y/n#kny x you#demon slayer sanemi#demon slayer kyojuro#demon slayer rengoku
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atsumu thinks he has just seen the most beautiful person ever.
it's crazy, he feels crazy — he's at this stupid party, right? with his teammates and all, celebrating another win and then he sees you.
adorned in this gorgeous red dress, backless and tight around you, highlighting your figure at all the right places — your hair and makeup done with a champagne glass in your hand as you laugh and giggle with one of his acquaintances.
maybe one of his colleagues brought you, or maybe god sent you here for him because damn —
“you're staring.” his friend, kiyoomi, cuts in, giving him a look before he takes a sip from his drink.
“shut up.” he huffs.
“i'm just saying, if you want her so bad, go talk to her.” kiyoomi says, rolling his eyes.
“uhm, no.” atsumu deadpans.
“really now? where did the playboy go?” kiyoomi taunts, clearly enjoying teasing his friend.
“stop.”
“what's the worst that can happen?”
“she could hear me!”
kiyoomi stifles a laugh, “right, that is most definitely the worst case scenario.”
atsumu scowls at him, “fine! you know what? i'm going over there.” he jeers at him, before stomping off.
he watches as the colleague you were talking to walks off and he strides his way over to you.
he takes a deep breath as you notice him and set your eyes on him and he tries not to faint.
he gulps, “hi."
you smile awkwardly, “hello.”
“uhm,” he stammers, jumbling his words, “i-i'm atsumu miya.”
you giggle and it's angelic, “i know.” you hum, “i'm y/n l/n.”
“that's a pretty name!” he blurts out, and swallows.
“thank you?” you say hesitantly, and laugh.
“uh,” where are his words? and gosh, is it hot in here? “i think you're pretty cute.” he says in a hurried sentence and wishes that the earth would crack up and swallow him whole.
you smile and there is a glint in your eyes, “well,” you chuckle “i think you're pretty cute too.”
shit, he can feel his face getting warmer and he can only thank the dim lights for hiding it.
before he can say anything else, “how about i put my number in your phone.” you say, a shy smile on your face “and maybe we can go out sometime?”
“of course!” he says, maybe a little too excitedly but nothing matters right now because he hands you your phone and you indeed do put your number in it.
the conversation ends with the two of you clinking your glasses together and an exchanged ‘cheers.’ before atsumu walks back to where kiyoomi is standing, having watched all of this unfold.
a lovesick smile is on his face, and a lovesick tone as he says,
“i got her number!”
#haikyuu#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu drabbles#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader#miya atsumu#atsumu headcanons#atsumu drabbles#atsumu imagine#atsumu x reader
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Is It Casual Now?
pairing: Reader x Sylus
Word count: 7K
---
As you begin to accept your feelings for him, your complicated relationship with Sylus takes a darker turn. As his world unravels before you, desire and fear blur into one. Can you handle the intoxicating power he wields, or will it consume you both?
You miss him while he’s away and end up in a situation you never thought would happen.
tags: PWP porn with plot (if you squint), don/sub themes, a little angst. NSFW content MDNI- please read with caution, AU lads! Warnings ahead!
Sulus has been living in my head rent free since I downloaded this damn game. It’s my first time writing so please let me know what you think!
A few content warnings for y’all please read them carefully!
Dark Themes, Dub-Con elements (particularly with questionable use of Sylus’ Evol. Consent is a big theme though and he does 100% get consent to do anything and everything he does) , Power play, dominance, and submission. It’s Sylus, guys, what did you expect? Violence and Gore (he’s going to kill some people) Child Endangerment (if you squint) Mentions of children being involved in adult situations or discussions (no children are actually harmed in this fic, just a nasty person offering that) Sexually explicit content: they really do be fucking like rabbits. Unprotected Sex: don’t be stupid guys.
The sunset glowed a vibrant orange, illuminating the streets below the penthouse window you were currently looking out of. Letting out a sigh, you basked in the weakened rays’ warmth and pulled the hoodie closer around your nightdress-clad body. Well, his hoodie. The material wrapped around you deliciously and it was probably more expensive than your salary for the month. But that wasn’t what drew you to it in the first place. The smell comforted you. You took another deep breath in at the collar and savoured the musky scent you could only describe as him. He always smelled so good.
Sighing again at the thought, you checked your phone for what felt like the thousandth time that evening. The blank screen almost mocked you. You should’ve been used to this, but each time the silver-haired menace left you here, you couldn’t help but let the worry eat at you.
Today, you’d left the bedroom to find a note in his signature cursive scrawl letting you know that he would be back later. Later. You scoffed at the thought of later. When even was later? Sometimes later meant a few hours, sometimes it meant the afternoon and on rare occasions, later meant a few days.
Before you could let the thought consume you, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You made a grab for it quickly – 1 new message. From Rafayel. You hated yourself for being disappointed.
20:43 Rafayel: where are you honey
You quickly typed a response, some shit about working late or meeting a friend. Honestly, you put so little thought into the reply that guilt crept its way back in, so you deleted it and retyped.
20:50 Me: I’ve taken the day off for some much needed rest and relaxation! I haven’t even had my phone on me. Do you need something Raf? I can talk :)
You replied, you know, like a liar.
20:51 Rafayel: No worries cutie
20:51 Rafayel: I haven’t heard from you all day so naturally I thought you died
20:53 Rafayel: only reason I could think of for your lack of contact.
20:53 Rafayel: rest well cutie
20:53 Rafayel: next time text me back and dun make me wait!
20:55 Rafayel: I’d die without your attention.
His reply was humorous, but you knew deep down he was actually worried about you. You felt a little bad, but at least he was cracking jokes like usual.
Rolling your eyes and huffing out a laugh, you pulled yourself away from the living room window and made your way into the kitchen. The sun had now set completely. You’d been alone all day and frankly the boredom and worry were eating you alive. You needed something to do. You glanced at the clock in the kitchen and sighed again. You hated eating on your own, but now, at 9:00pm, you had no other choice. Your stomach growled loudly in agreement.
You’d stayed at his hotel many times. Sometimes for work near the N109 zone and other times just because he asked you to. Sometimes he’d bring you here on dinners and shopping trips that felt so much like dates, they left your heart fluttering and your brain confused.
This time however, You’d had a particularly bad week and were looking forward to some “quality time” together. He’d picked you up after work directly in front of the Hunter’s Association, your employer. Of course, they didn’t need to know that you were running around with their number one wanted criminal.
If any other man tried to take you back to a hotel room, let alone one he had clearly lived in, you would have laughed and told him to get lost. But this was different. It was clear that he used this penthouse often, but not often enough for it to feel lived in. He’d clearly custom-decorated it, which, you supposed, was a perk of owning the hotel. It didn’t feel like a seedy hotel room - you would’ve left if it had. It felt expensive, like a luxury, to be let into this part of his world.
Your bare feet made soft slapping sounds against the marble of the kitchen floor and the stone sent a chill through your body. You always felt cold without him around. Strange - for someone you were just casually hooking up with. You made your way to the fridge and checked inside. Empty, except for three bottles of white wine and two bottles of sparkling wine. None of this was the food you so desperately needed, but it would do until you decided what to order.
You popped open the bottle of sparkling wine and poured yourself a decent glass, downing the whole thing and pouring another. Just to take the edge off, of course.
You walked back to the living room, full glass and bottle in hand, and plopped down onto the deep red velvet sofa. Picking up the room service menu, you pondered over the many choices. You hastily called down to the front desk and placed your order, hoping it would arrive soon.
Taking another sip of wine, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through your message conversation.
12:54 Me: Any idea when you’ll be back?
Read 12:55
13:31 Me: Should I eat the leftovers for lunch or are you bringing something back?
Read 13:32
15:43 Me: I feel like I should let you know that I ate your half of the leftovers. I was hungry and you aren’t responding.
Read 16:32
18:49 Me: Are you going to be back for dinner?
Read 19:02
20:56 Me: Are you okay?
Read 20:56
20:58 Me:*You unsent a message*
You scoffed at your phone, worry turning to frustration. He clearly had time to check his messages. Why couldn’t he just respond? He was so frustrating!
After aimlessly scrolling through mind-numbing videos for a few minutes, the bell to the penthouse rang. You hopped up and checked through the peephole, rightly assuming your dinner had arrived. You brought it into the living room and began to dig into the delicious meal. It killed a good 45 minutes, you realised as you checked your phone once you were done. Finishing up with a little tidying wasted another 10 minutes, and then you were back to waiting.
Now, it was closer to 11:00pm, and you felt your eyelids growing heavy, but with no sign of him, you didn't want to fall asleep just yet. You put on a random movie on the giant TV and decided to settle in on the sofa for the night.
It feels like only moments later when you woke to the sound of classical music blaring from the record player in the corner of the room. The movie had been switched off. You became aware of a weight on your hip. Calmly, you look up to discover the source. A hand was stroking your hip and playing with the end of your nightdress, which had ridden up while you slept. The hand belonged to none other than Sylus himself. Somehow, he’d managed to situate himself on the sofa you were sleeping on, your head resting on his lap as his hands absentmindedly fussed with your body and hair.
‘You’re awake,’ He said in his deep drawl, the words smoothing over you like honey.
‘I didn’t even realise I’d fallen asleep,’ You replied blinking up into his deep carmine eyes as they roamed your body.
‘Out like a light, sweetie,’ he said with a smirk. ‘You didn’t even flinch when I came through the door.’ His lips held that signature smirk as he continued, ‘What happened to those fine-tuned hunter instincts, hmm? Have they been dulled by the wine you so graciously helped yourself to?’
He sounded calm and collected as usual, but you could tell something was off. You shifted on his lap to look at him more seriously.
‘What happened, Sylus?’ You asked, letting his comment about the wine slide. He’d give you the earth if he could; you knew he wasn’t really bothered by a bottle of wine.
‘Nothing to worry about. As you can see, I’m perfectly fine,’ he replied, feigning nonchalance. But there was a note of something in his voice that betrayed his nearly perfect mask. Your eyes scanned his face, searching for any clue.
‘See something you like, sweetie?’ He teased, tilting his head and gazing into your eyes. He was so close, and for a moment, you were distracted by how handsome he looked. Your eyes drifted to his lips, which crooked up into another half-smirk when he noticed.
You snapped out of it. ‘I’m being serious, Sylus. I missed you all day. You read my messages, so I knew you were alive, but it’s so hard waiting here when all I want is to be with you.’ You softened your voice, trying to coax him into opening up.
‘Sweetie,’ he started ‘you knew what this arrangement would look like when we started. I don’t want to tell you anything that you don’t need to know. You wouldn’t like-’
‘You don’t know what I’ll think!’ you interrupted, sitting up and turning toward him. You cupped his jaw and guided his face toward you. That’s when you spotted it, a red drop of dried blood on his temple. You raised your hand and gently ran your thumb over the spot. ‘Sylus, I’m a big girl. I kill wanderers for a living you know?’ He sighed leaning into your touch, clearly soothed by the movement. ‘I’m in this, whatever it is, with you. I wouldn’t have betrayed The Hunters Association and constantly sneaked behind their back for just anyone. Please tell me what happened.’
He sat in silence, eyes closed, rolling your words around in his mind. Initially, he’d kept this side of his business a secret because he wasn’t sure he could trust you. But over the months, he’d kept it hidden for another reason entirely. He didn’t want you to see the violent, unkind part of him that emerged when dealing with business.
But now, thinking back to how you met, to all the challenges he’d watched you face without backing down, he wrestled with himself. Would it really be so bad to let you in?
He opened his eyes, his hand wrapping around yours. ‘Are you sure you want to know?’ You nodded gently, holding his gaze to show him how serious you were. ‘Today’s deal didn’t quite go as planned. Turns out this buyer held a grudge against me after our last meeting - he sold me some subpar protocores and I, naturally, refused to pay for them. He had men hidden in the surrounding buildings and ambushed me. No class, kitten,’ He said, his voice sharp. It sent a shiver down your spine, but you were determined to stay composed.
‘Luke got out unscathed but Kerian was hurt pretty badly. He was being patched up until late into the night.’ Your face must have betrayed your shock because Sylus leaned in and pressed a delicate kiss on your cheek. ‘I had to execute every person in that room for trying to double-cross me sweetie.’ he whispered into our ear, his tone deep and almost seductive.
You gasped, but before you could speak, he asked, ‘Should I continue?’ You nodded again. ‘My gun burned through its holster once I ran out of bullets. It wasn’t my only weapon, of course.’ His tone turned dark. ‘You remember how deadly my Evol is, right sweetie? You found out the day we met.’
Your body reacted instinctively to the memory, a flash of heat curling in your belly.
You could only nod again, this time biting your lip at the memory of your first meeting. ‘I take an odd delight in using it to eviscerate my enemies, turning them to dust beneath my feet, where they belong. Filth like that needs to be taken care of - don't you agree sweetie” His voice had turned almost syrupy in quality and his eyes flashed with the red of his Aether core. You were shocked- not at the information, but at your own reaction to it.
He continued. ‘Of course, I had to leave the boss for last, sweetie. He had a lesson to learn, after all. First, he sold me sub-quality products and then he tried to cross me. Tut, tut, tut. That simply won't do.’ You leaned in slightly closer, resting your knees on his thighs as you curled up. ‘Well, I’ve never heard a grown man beg so quickly, and you won’t believe it, kitten. He tried to make a deal with me.’
‘What kind of deal? For his life?’ you questioned.
‘Hmmm sort of,’ he replied. ‘This man - no, this filth - tried to offer me his own flesh and blood in return for me sparing his life. His own child. His daughter is just 16 years old. He told me I could have her.’ He scoffed as if the thought were laughable. ‘He should've known that would never work. In fact, it left me more disgusted by him. She’s a child. She should never have been brought up in a business discussion. I tortured him a little more for that. First his eyes…’ At this, he brought his hand to your face and swept his thumb over one of your eyes. ‘He didn’t deserve to look at me. Next, his tongue…’ His hand moved down and ran over your lips ‘his disgusting begging earned him that one, kitten. Of course, I couldn’t just rough him up, that wouldn't do. I had to make him suffer, unable to scream for help, gurgling and choking on his own blood.’
Somehow, you weren’t utterly horrified like you'd imagine you would be, hearing about the killing of so many people and the blatant torture of another. You felt your thighs clench at his raw power and seductive tone. God, what was wrong with you?
Sylus, ever the observant man, saw your eyes dilate and your thighs clench beneath your tiny nightdress. ‘Well, sweetie, it seems I had nothing to worry about,’ He brought his hand down to your hip and moved in close to whisper in your ear. ‘You’re clearly more than woman enough to handle anything I throw at you.’
You were found out. ‘Did you want me to be scared?’ you asked him, your voice soft in his ear, as his lips dropped to your neck - not making contact, but close enough for his eyes to watch your pulse racing beneath your soft skin.
‘Never, sweetheart. I’m not interested in your fear’ His voice dripped with lust as he cupped your shoulder and laid you back against the soft sofa beneath you, crowding around you with his arms resting on either side of your face. ‘Why would I want that when your desperation is so much more… enticing?’
He brought his hand up to your face, gripping it tight enough for you to feel his control, but not enough to hurt you. ‘Tell me, kitten,’ He purred, his eyes locking onto yours ‘Why is it that hearing these vicious acts has got you all hot and bothered, hmmm?’
“It’s just…” you couldn’t quite seem to find the right words.
“Just? Just what?” He replied, almost mocking with his tone.
“Just, you. I don’t know why but hearing about you being so ruthless and in charge, it kind of turnsmeon.” You rushed through the end of your sentence, mumbling to the point of incoherence.
“Oh come on kitten,” he started. “You can be a big girl and tell me properly.”
“I said it, turns me on!” Your face had heated up quite substantially but still you went on. “I don’t know why, but it does. I think it’s the control maybe?”
“Oh really,” his voice dropped to a whisper as he leaned closer to your ear “and do you want to be under my control too?”
You shut your eyes, trying to escape his intensity, but he clearly wasn’t going to let that slide. ‘Uh-uh sweetheart. Look at me when I'm talking to you.’ You heard light buzzing in the air by your head before you felt it - his Evol snaked around your throat, giving a light squeeze in warning. Your eyes snapped open at the sensation. ‘Don’t hide from me. I want to see how much you can handle. Now tell me what I want to hear - don't make me force it out of you.’ His right eye flashed in warning and you felt a slight pull to open up to him in more ways than one.
This was a completely new dynamic in your relationship. He had never used his Evol on you - other than when you first met - and it sent a thrill running through you. The idea of him compelling you to voice your desires so clearly, without hesitation, made you realise just how much you liked this side of him. He noticed your eyes dilating further- they looked like beautiful black pools, and it drove him wild to know that he had this effect on you. ‘Oh. It seems like that’s exactly what you want to happen. Is that right, sweetheart?’
You nodded desperately, but he held your face still and kissed your lips lightly. ‘No, baby, you have to use your words. You have to want this, or it’s a huge invasion of privacy. I won't do that’
His insistence on your consent, made your heart flutter. Little things like this reinforced your feelings for him, and you couldn't help the little smile that revealed your affection. ‘Sylus, i-I want you to force me to tell you this.’ You emphasised your point by bringing one hand up to his shoulder, squeezing the muscle beneath, while the other rested on his chest, feeling the abnormally fast pace of his heart beating beneath his skin.
He closed his eyes and then opened them, his Evol no longer prickling at you but pushing you fully. He looked you straight in the eyes with such intensity that you couldn’t have looked away even if you’d wanted to. Then, the voices started - a cacophony of your own voice inside your head, letting loose every desire you had. The sound grew so loud that the sentences slipped out of your mouth against your will. ‘Submit to him. Claim him as yours. You belong to him. Give him everything. Submit.’
Your breathing grew heavier as you spilled all of your secrets, anxiety building. You wanted to look away from his handsome face, but thank god you couldn’t.
You saw his eyes dilate at your confessions. The more you were forced to say, the more hunger you saw on his face. His breathing deepened, and you felt him growing hard against your leg. His mouth parted on a shaky exhale, the warmth of it hitting your face. You could nearly taste the whiskey he’d clearly consumed before arriving. When he spoke, his voice was deep and husky, laced with lust. ‘Oh, it seems you’ve had a lot on your mind recently. Why didn’t you say something before?’
He let you out of the grip of his Evol and you couldn’t even begin to form an answer to his question. You reached your hands up into his hair and pulled him into a deep kiss.
The moment your lips connected with his, everything around you seemed to dissolve, leaving just the two of you. Sylus responded immediately, deepening the kiss with a hunger that mirrored the storm of emotions brewing inside him. His hands roamed the sides of your body, trailing heat wherever they went, making your skin tingle under his touch. He tugged at your lower lip with his teeth before pulling back, his breath ragged as he stared down at you, eyes dark with desire.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice a low, rumbling growl. “You’ve got no idea what you’ve just unlocked.”
His grip tightened on your hips, and you could feel the restraint in his movements, like he was holding back a torrent of emotion and power. You felt a strange thrill at his words, at the way he teetered on the edge of control.
“Maybe I like danger more than you know,” you replied, your voice breathless yet teasing, daring him to show you just how deep this game could go. You ran your hands down his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath your fingertips. He inhaled sharply at your touch, his carmine eyes blazing with intensity.
His hands slid beneath your nightdress, grazing your thighs as he pulled you closer into his lap. Suddenly, his grip tightened and he lifted you up into the air as he stood from the couch. You let out a surprised gasp, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist, as they had done hundreds of times before.
He carried you into the bedroom and unexpectedly sat himself down at the headboard, leaving you straddling his thighs and pressed against his hard cock. Your hands went back to his shoulders. He bucked his hips up into you and you both groaned at the contact, the heat between you two becoming almost unbearable. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Tell me,” he whispered, his voice dark and smooth. “Do you really think you can handle me at my most dangerous, sweetie?”
You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you met his eyes. There was no going back from this. Not from the way he was looking at you, not from the emotions you were feeling—raw, untamed, and terrifyingly real.
“Yes,” you breathed out, barely audible but filled with certainty. To prove it, you grinded against him and let out a soft keen at the feeling of him, hard and right where you needed him.
Sylus’s smirk grew wider, and he pressed a hungry kiss against your neck, letting his lips linger, as the mark he left tingled. “Then brace yourself,” he said, “because I don’t plan on stopping until you know exactly who you belong to.”
He moved with purpose, flipping you both over to once again tower over you. Letting you know that he was firmly in control. This, you were used to, this you craved.
His hands moved deliberately - never once hesitating - slipping beneath the thin fabric of your nightdress. He groaned softly as his fingers found your bare skin, the touch electrifying. You arched into him, craving more, your breath hitching as he ran his hands along your sides, his lips following the path of his fingers, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
“Is this what you want?” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough, primal. “Is this why you’ve been so restless without me?”
You could only nod, words failing you as desire overtook everything else. Sylus chuckled darkly at your silence, his hand tightening possessively around your waist as he shifted, pushing you back into the soft cushions of the bed. His body hovered over yours, his silver hair falling like a curtain around his face as he gazed down at you with a mixture of hunger and affection.
“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he said, his voice softer now, though still edged with that dangerous undercurrent. “Every time I leave, all I think about is getting back to you.”
His confession hit you like a punch to the chest. This wasn’t just about the sex. There was something deeper, something neither of you had dared to voice before. But in this moment, with everything laid bare, there was no hiding from it anymore.
“Sylus,’ You groaned ‘I think about you too, you have to know that,” you whispered, your hands gripping his shirt as if holding onto him was the only thing keeping you grounded. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Sylus.” You paused your hands’ movements and looked at him.
He froze, his eyes searching yours, and in that heartbeat of silence, you could feel the shift in the air between you. Something unspoken passed between you, something more than just physical desire.
Sylus lowered his head until his lips were barely brushing yours. “Then don’t,” he murmured. “Don’t stop. Don’t hold back.”
And with that, he kissed you again, this time with a slow, deliberate intensity that made your whole body tremble. Your hands took the opportunity to pull apart his shirt, buttons flying everywhere and baring his beautiful skin for you. His hands roamed over you with a possessive need, claiming you in ways that left no doubt in your mind that this was more than just a game to him. It was more than just physical.
It was everything.
‘I’m going to absolutely ruin you,’ He said with an edge of desperation in his voice. He pulled off your nightdress, not at all shocked to find you bare beneath it but delighted nonetheless. Less barriers to make his way through. He let out a groan so deep at the sight of you bare and dripping for him. He couldn’t help himself, he needed you. ‘You want me to taste you? To bury my face between your thighs and make you come?’ You nodded furiously, drunk on his raw power. “Then that’s exactly what I’m going to do.’
With that, he dove in tongue first. Lapping at you with unparalleled delight. ‘Fuck,’ he groaned. ‘You alway taste so divine?’ he dove back in. “You’re so perfect and all mine.’
You couldn’t contain your sounds of pleasure, nor did you want to. You knew he loved to hear you cry out and moan for him. The menace loved to hear how he was ruining you. A wicked grin spread across his face as he wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you close into his waiting mouth. ‘You’re so wet for me, kitten,’ He murmured, his voice thick and filled with heat. ‘I can't wait to lap up every last drop.’
Without warning, his tongue swept across your slick pussy, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips. He continued to completely overwhelm you with his enthusiastic assault of his tongue on your pussy. Teasing and tantalising every sensitive spot. He brought his hand up to join in, gently circling around your entrance and pushing in to feel that spongy spot that would, no doubt, have you seeing stars.
‘Mmmmm, you taste amazing,’ he growled, his voice low and husky. ‘Like honey and wine.’ He took his time, exploring every inch of you, his fingers continuing their exploration of your g-spot .
He could feel your pleasure building, your moans growing louder and more insistent, your walls squeezing around his fingers. ‘I love watching you like this, seeing you unravel. Fuck!’ is words were spoken against your pussy, almost muffled by how close he was. His tongue circled your clit, teasing it with gentle, sucking motions.
He was driving you closer and closer to the edge, tensing up. The coil inside you wound so tight that you could snap at any moment, but something held you back. “Please Sylus, please let me come, I want it, please.’ You needed permission. Your cries were desperate and pleading and it turned him on even more.
“Cum for me, sweetie,” he urged you, needing to feel you fall over the edge, desperate for your release. “Let me feel you cum on my tongue baby, you’re squeezing my fingers so hard.”
He dove back in his mouth and lips working overtime on your clit and his fingers hitting that spot with expert precision. He felt the moment you came for him and he groaned loudly into your pussy. He could taste the waves of pleasure on his tongue and feel the way you clamped down hard on his fingers, getting impossibly tighter. He gently ran his tongue over your clit, drawing out pleasure from your quivering body.
“Fuck, Sylus,” you groaned. Your body was still reeling from the aftershocks of your orgasm when you felt him shift against your foot, his cock - still confined in his trousers and boxers - was as hard as a rock and desperate for attention. “Come here,” you demanded as you pulled him up by his soft strands of silver hair. The slight pain from your tugging and your tone elicited another groan from Sylus.
Your lips smashed together, both of you moaning into the kiss. He kissed you impossibly harder. Ravaging your mouth as your hands worked his belt, then zipper open and pushed them down his thighs, boxers and all. He shivered a little as you wasted no time in gripping his cock firmly in your hands.
“Please, let me taste it, Sylus?” You asked with a look of feigned innocence on your face. How could he say no to that?
As you got onto your knees in front of him, you licked up the length of his cock. It was completely hard for you and he groaned at the sensation. Of course his dick was just as pretty as the rest of him. E looked down at you as you took the tip of his cock into your mouth and sucked him sweetly, blinking up at him. His moans of enjoyment encouraged you. You used both hands around his shaft and let your mouth focus on his sensitive tip, just the way he liked it. You knew all of his favourite places to be touched and just the right way to do it.
He was utterly enraptured with the sight of you, mouth stuffed full of him. He gathered your hair in a makeshift ponytail before pulling you off him. “You’ll be the death of me, sweetie,” he replied. Your hands continued their work on his cock, spreading out the silky precum that had gathered at his top and using it to lubricate your motions. He felt so good, your hands working wonders. “I fear I’ve taught you-“ his groan interrupted him mid sentence as you licked his slit again. “Taught you too well. Fuck. I won’t last in your mouth, sweetie. I need you now!” It was a command, not a request.
He pushed you back into your back and reached across to the night stand to retrieve a condom.
“Wait!” You grabbed his arm to stop him. He looked at you shocked, concerned that something was wrong. “What if we, ummm, didn’t use a condom tonight?” You asked, a hint of shyness creeping in. Truthfully you’d been thinking about it for a while now. He was the only man you were sleeping with and you were on the pill. There’s no one else you trusted to experience that with before. You wanted to feel him, raw, with no barrier between you.
He groaned and nipped at your neck, leaving a trail of kisses down your collarbone. “Fuck. You really want that? Are you sure?”
You nodded in response then remembering his earlier demand, voiced your agreement. “Yes Sylus, please I want it.”
“Good.” He growled as he took your nipple into his mouth and sucked on it, laving his tongue over the soft pebble and making you groan and grab at his hair again.
“I want you,” He said, his cock grinding against you completely bare for the first time, sending a shiver down your spine. “All of you.”
He captured your mouth in another searing kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as his hand slid between your thighs. His fingers teased your sensitive skin, collecting your sticky arousal and using it to stroke his cock - covering himself in your very essence. “I’ll give you anything you want, kitten.”
You took over from him, stroking his cock and guiding it to your pussy. His eyes lit up further, his cock throbbing with anticipation as you ran the tip of him across your soaked pussy. “I just want you” you replied earnestly.
“Oh, fuck,” he growled his voice so low and husky, it reeked for pure sex. “You have no idea how much I want to give you everything. To spoil you, claim you, to own you.”
He pushed into you, his cock sliding deep into your warm, wet pussy. He bottomed out and you both groaned at the sensation. He stilled himself inside you, his body tensed with pleasure as he felt himself buried to the hilt. “You feel so good,” he breathed, his voice full of adoration. “So perfect for me. This pussy is perfect, fuck, like it was made for me.”
He began to move his hips, rocking back and forth with a deliberate, slow pace. He could feel his control slipping, his desire to completely control you, to own you, growing with every passing moment. His raw cock although slow, was hitting perfectly inside you. It felt amazing. You raked your nails down his back and bucked your hips up to meet his thrusts. If you’d have known how good it would feel, you never would have waited this long to go without a condom. You could feel every inch of him, each ridge and vein, smoothing along your walls and drawing out your soft keens and mewls.
“You’re mine, sweetie,” he growled, his voice low and raw with need. “I’m going to make you mine forever.” He leaned in as his thrusts began to get faster and harder. “And I’m going to take everything. Every inch of you is mine. Every waking moment is mine. Every last breath in your body belongs to me now. I’m going to make sure you never forget it.
“Yes, please, Sylus,” you gasped as his thrusts turned merciless, his cock hitting you just right and the slapping noises echoing in the giant room. “Yes I’m yours, completely yours!”
He groaned at your words and smashed your lips together in another bruising kiss your tongue not even trying to fight for dominance as if it knew it was his. You could see the effect of your words on him, so you pushed on despite your breathlessness.
Each word came out in pants. “I’m yours! Yours to fuck, yours to spoil, yours to love. I’m all yours Sylus,” he grinned widely, possessively at your words. “And you’re all mine.” You reached up and pulled him into a desperate kiss, breaking off and leaving a trail of your combined saliva hanging from your lips. Moving them to his throat and attaching them to his sensitive spot, before sucking a hard mark on his neck.
He groaned loudly at the feeling. You trailed your lips lower leaving mark after mark in your wake. His hips stuttered and he had to still them to catch his breath.
“No one else gets to see you this way,” You leaned up and whispered into his ear “You’re all fucking mine.”
Sylus’s eyes darkened with unbridled desire as you declared your own possessiveness. He let out a guttural groan, his hips resuming their relentless slamming into you. He brought his hand down to your stomach and pressed down slightly, feeling his cock move within you from the outside - it drove him absolutely wild.
“Oh sweetie, you’re right,” he rasped, his voice dripping with lust from your words. “I’m all yours. Every. Single. Fucking. Inch.” He punctuated his words with four particularly hard thrusts that had your eyes rolling back in your skull and your moans coming out in quiet shrieks.
He captured your lips in a bruising kiss, his tongue pressing into your mouth as his fingers gripped your hips tight enough to leave bruises the next day.
He broke the kiss, only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, sucking and nipping at your soft skin. “I’m going to mark you up, kitten,” he murmured, his teeth grazing your flesh. “Everyone is going to know you’re mine.”
He pulled back, his eyes drinking in the sight of you beeneath him, his cock buried deep inside your warmth, bare and fucking stunning. The feeling was indescribable. A wicked grin spread across his handsome face as he grinded his hips against yours with him all the way deep.
Your eyes flashed open at the new feeling and looked down to see where you were both so intimately connected. As he pulled out, you could see the way you gripped onto him tighter and tighter and you could feel your pleasure building inside.
He could feel it in the way you squeezed him in a vice-like grip, it had his mind reeling and him desperately close to the edge. He tried to hold on, and was doing a great job of it until you reached down to rub your clit and moaned out.
“Please cum inside me, Sylus,” you were almost begging him. You were so close to your orgasm and you knew it would leave you exhausted. “Please, cum for me, I’m so close. Please cum with me.”
Sylus’s face contorted into a mix of pleasure and restraint, he wanted to feel you cum around him first before he let himself release. He could see the desperation in your eyes, your desire to be filled by him.
He drove into you with a fierce intensity, his hips pumping in a rapid, rhythmic motion as he got closer and closer. He brushed your hand away and used his fingers to press down, as his thumb battered your clit. “Come for me, sweetie, I’m right there too,” He rasped out, his voice hoarse “I’ll fill you up pretty girl, I promise, I’ll make you mine in every way.”
“I’m gonna cum, fuck, Sylus!” You moaned out his name as you felt yourself hit your orgasm.
He felt his body tense, his cock throbbing with release as he exploded inside you, his cum pumping out in hot, pulsing jets. He felt it spilling into your depths, the sensation so different without a barrier. Being connected to you, being inside you like that, it was the most intense feeling he’d ever experienced.
You were both left feeling absolutely breathless, sticky and tired. You closed your eyes and tried to catch your breath, when you felt soft kisses being pressed against your lips. “You’re so incredible, my perfect girl.”
His words set your heart on fire, almost matching the usual fast pace of his. He began to pull out but you stopped him with a grip on his hip. “Not yet,” you reached back up and kissed him gently. “I don’t want to be separated from you.”
His eyes warmed at your words, softening to the point where he looked completely enamoured with you. “I’m not going anywhere sweetie, I just need to clean you up.”
“Can’t you do that and still stay inside me?” You replied with a pout on your face that made him chuckle.
“I promise, I’ll be at your disposal for the rest of the weekend, if you let me get you cleaned up. How’s that sound sweetie?” He set the deal up and now the ball was in your court.
“That does sound good, but may I add one more clause to the agreement?” You said with a slight grin.
“Hmmm, sure. Anything for you, sweetie.” He shot back at you.
“Promise me, you’ll always come back to me. You don’t have to be here all the time but just promise me that I’ll be the one you come back to. And let me in, yeah?” You looked at him with warmth and a deeper emotion that you were too scared to name.
“Okay, then I want to add another clause, if I may?” He nuzzled into your cheek and kissed the side of your mouth before making eye contact again. “Quit your job, move in with me and let me have you as mine officially. I’m not going anywhere, and I want this to be something we can give our all to. I want to take you with me, to show you off as mine. Sneaking around was fun at the beginning, but now, I just want to hold your hand in the street, kiss you when I feel like it, or throw you over my shoulder and escort you out of the premises when I want you like this.”
He kissed you again, his teeth tugging at your lip and his tongue demanding entrance again. You were tempted, oh so tempted. What did you truly have back in Linkon that wouldn’t be there if you followed your heart? Zayne was your childhood friend, he’d understand. Your colleagues were just that, colleagues. Tara was always asking you about “Mr Skye” and when you would be making things official so she’d be delighted. And Rafayel? He had his own, Miss Hunter to keep him company. He seemed so happy and he would always be your best friend no matter what.
“Can I have some time to think about it?” You asked him.
He looked a little sad about it but he nodded his head and started to pull his softening cock out of you. His cum started to drip out of you and he looked down at the sight transfixed, his cock getting hard again at the sight. But he knew that he needed to give you a little space to process what he’d asked of you so he started to go to the bathroom intent on grabbing you a warm, wet washcloth to clean you up.
But your hand stopped him from retreating even one step. You looked up at him with your eyes full of adoration and he looked back feeling the weight of his own. “Okay, I’ve thought about it, let’s do it.” You giggled.
Sylus was silent for a moment, and you felt the weight of your words hand in the air before he finally spoke.
“God, I love you,” he said, his voice low and filled with something you hadn’t heard before—something vulnerable. He kissed you again as this time, the kiss felt different. You could feel all the emotion he put into it, truly conveying his raw emotion in the best way he could.
You pulled away and whispered “I love you too, Sylus,” before grabbing him by the back of the back and pulling him back down on top of you.
And in that moment, you knew things had changed between you both. No more hiding, no more pretending that what you had was casual. Because in reality, it was anything but.
And neither of you were willing to let it go.
#love and deepspace sylus#sylus x reader#sylus#lads sylus#lads smut#lads x reader#love and deepspace smut#love and deepspace x reader#lnds sylus#sylus x you#sylus qin#sylus smut#l&ds sylus
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mother. enemies with benefits with angst, mother🙏🙏 I am starving in this harsh winter, mother 😔😔😔
"Your mission," the villain murmured. "How was it?"
"Is that a thing we do now? Asking personal questions?"
"It's work. And we are work, too."
The hero didn't really know what to respond to that, so they shrugged and avoided the villain's gaze at all costs. It was kind of pathetic that the villain was the first person they visited after their three months of absence. Logically, the villain must have assumed that the hero was here to sleep with them.
In truth, the hero wasn't sure if they could even do that. They could barely walk.
"So, how was it?" the villain asked. They tilted their head curiously and the hero didn't know how to respond to that either. The hero counted themselves lucky that the only wounds they carried around with them were bruises and a few cracked ribs.
"It was fine," they said. They took a sip of coffee, ignoring how their face was heating up. "It was alright."
"That bad?"
"No, it was fine, really," the hero answered. The villain's apartment was as the hero remembered. Classy. Clean.
Maybe the hero was just sick of living in their own cramped space and coming home to trash and dust, too exhausted to clean and take care of it. Most of the time the hero blamed work - no hero had truly time to take care of their own place after all, right?
But deep down they knew they were the problem. They were the person who had let the decay happen.
"Still beating yourself up?"
"Still too curious for your own good?"
The villain gave them a hortative look and the hero backed down immediately.
"Sorry, I..." An empty laugh. "I'm really on edge, huh?"
They guessed the last three months weren't as easy to forget as they wanted. They had lost more people during the mission than they should have. It was an excruciating feeling. Something they would never get used to.
"You don't say." The villain smiled softly and stood up. They reached for the hero's wrist and the hero could feel their insides melt. Touching them again after three months...it felt like a reward after weeks of uncertainty and violence.
It was heaven.
"If you are struggling with-"
"Really, I can deal with it, I promise," the hero said. They finally looked up at their nemesis. At those hauntingly beautiful eyes. Those soft fingers. They would dream about them.
They would dream about the villain every now and then. They would think about them.
It was quite strange to the hero. They were thinking about them a little too much, they figured.
"Then why are you here?" the villain said. Their hand was still on the hero's.
"Hm?" The hero needed a second to stomach that question.
"What are you doing here?"
"Well..." Another empty laugh. "We...uh, you know. We hook up sometimes. That's what we do, so...uh..."
"You're not here to have sex with me," the villain replied. They pulled their hand away and the hero could have cursed. They knew it was stupid to feel entitled to it.
And they didn't, they truly didn't feel entitled. But desperate? The hero was definitely desperate.
"What do you mean? Did I-" They took in a deep breath.
"I meant what I said. You're not here to have sex with me. You don't like morning sex, you can barely move and you probably wouldn't survive a round, no matter what position. And you know that. So, why are you here?" The hero stared at them with an open mouth but gathered themselves quickly. Swallowed, looked at the coffee, then back at the villain. It didn't feel fair how well the villain could read them. It didn't feel fair how helpless the hero felt either.
"I just...I don't know."
"You know I can't give you the comfort you want," the villain whispered. This time, it was them who didn't meet the other's eyes. "We agreed on specific terms and...everything on an emotional level..."
"I know," the hero whispered. Hell, it was them who had come up with the whole shit. It was the hero who had argued that emotions were leading to complications. It was them who had insisted that this was physical. "I know, I'm sorry."
"Usually I would just break the rules and...well, you know. I would listen to you, I would hold you and...yeah. But I am kind of seeing someone."
But I am kind of seeing someone.
The hero's eyes widened.
It felt like a punch to the throat.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know, I..." The tears were rising. They could feel the pain in their nose, they could feel that horrible feeling in the back of their throat.
"As long as it's not serious, we can still sleep with each other, but we can't afford falling in love. I really like them."
And then the hero got angry.
Their insides started to boil. They wanted to scream or cry, they wanted to punch the wall and destroy something, anything.
They felt replaced, they felt miserable. Maybe they had come here for comfort or kindness, maybe they had come here because they had actually missed the villain but this? This was cruel - it was a bad joke that kept on going.
These last three months, the thought of the villain was the only thing that had kept them going, the one and only thing the hero had wanted.
But they swallowed it, swallowed their anger and the tears.
"Are you alright?"
"Y-yes." The hero hid their shaking hands under the table.
"You look a little pale," the villain said. They didn't seem very happy about any of this.
"Could I just use your bathroom for a second?"
"Of course."
And there, the hero threw up, gripping the toilet seat with trembling hands and tears blurring their vision.
#writing snippet#heroxvillain prompt#heroxvillain snippet#heroes and villains#hero#villain#hero x villain#heroxvillain#request#an answer for an ask#angst#enemies with benefits
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