#to be able to recover. and live. and breathe.

[deathblossomed]

HOSPITALS HAVE ALWAYS been tricky places for shinigami. With the number of people teetering on the precipice between this world and the next, hey were hot spots for activity and flush with energy. Not to mention a popular place for yurei to linger.

( As Botan hovers up and into the hospital, she has to stop to sneeze. Ooh-- Yusuke must be talking poorly about her, she just knows it. )

She floated invisibly through the halls, following the traces of miasma to the children's ward. There are nurses bustling urgently in every direction and a number of parents lingering, distressed and grief stricken. And from each room, she could see the same miasma oozing from behind the closed doors.

She carefully peaks in each room, looking for a child that was asleep and alone. Children were often uniquely sensitive to energy and she couldn't risk anyone being able to see or react to her presence.

She found a young girl asleep in her bed, her parent's pacing outside. Botan hovered over her, sitting in the air with her book in her lap. She held her hand out, eyes glowing with her second sight. The child's life energy was low, her spirit weak and trembling. Botan focuses closer, observing the lines through which her ki would flow, the reservoir of her soul and glowing aura. It was like she'd been drained, both physically and spiritually, below a level she could easily recover from. And stranger still is that she wasn't recovering. Her ki well wasn't refilling with rest and medical care. She was dying, slow but if something isn't done, she won't make it for much longer.

Botan bites the tip of her tongue, jetting out of the room to go through a few others to confirm the pattern. Each child she saw was running on empty. And where their natural ki should be, a festering miasma was building, like venom.

Taking a breath, she leaves the building, flying back down to where Yusuke is waiting. Hopefully, he was able to find something and didn't just sneak off. Botan landed in front of him, her brow furrowed.

"Well, it's not good. Whatever attacked them left them dangerously low on ki and unable to recover, even when provided with physical support. Their bodies are still in good condition but if this goes on much longer..." she purses her lips, not liking the thought of so many lives snuffed out unnaturally. "Were you able to talk to anyone?"

━━   ❝   𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬..   ❞  Said Yusuke as he found himself in a sitting position only to avoid the insistent lecturing. God, and to think she pretty much implied that he wouldn’t be needed to explore just what’s making the miasma this strong since he couldn’t FLY, nor enter in the astral plane to avoid detection, and now he’s off to talk to parents about their sick children.

“Fine, fine I’ll go see what I can find out about the brats.” Both hands into his pockets as he reluctantly makes his way towards the hospital’s entrance. ‘Stupid Botan…WhY dON’t YOu dO soME DetECtinG?!’ He mutters in his mind. “I’ll show you detecting when I DETECT what color your panties are.” Yusuke spoke under his breath. He just wanted to be lazy and receive a mission update after a good nap. He wasn’t prepared to witness what he’s seeing.

There were so many adults here..men and women. Were they parents?? Some even flooded the main desk, flooding the poor receptionist with question that she had no clue on how to answer, there were even nurses coming from the elevators and other rooms to try and calm the parents down. “Damn..didn’t think it’d be THIS rowdy..has it really been THAT many brats?” Yusuke asked. Clearly the rumors might have downplayed the severity. There must have been at least thirty adults in here.

“Oh yeah, this has been happening for a few days now, they think it’s a variant of the first strain that hit a few weeks ago.” Said a man overhearing Yusuke’s sentence.

He spoke of a similar epidemic, then it clicked. It must have been when Gouki was devouring souls..but this was different. The children weren’t instantly comatose were they? WAS this just a repeat of what happened then?! FUCK, now he cares..and Yusuke knows when he starts to develop any sort of empathy he’d do what it took to see things be set right. So once he arrived close enough to a nurse he calls out to her to get her attention. “Hey lady…I have a little cousin that’s sick..but I wasn’t sure t’ bring him here..” Said Yusuke.

“I’m afraid this hospital might be quarantined soon, whatever’s happening seem to only affect the children. We’ve tested the majority of the parents but they were all fine..whatever this is it might be targets only to children. If you’re cousin experiences, lack of appetite for several hours to total lethargy then please bring him here.” Said the nurse.

Looks like his PLAN worked, the kids start to feel bad for several hours..so it must mean that their souls are still in tact..but it also mean something in the neighborhood might be the cause for concern.

“OH, and also if he develops a bruising on his back..please bring him.” The nurse added.

“Bruising?” Yusuke asked.

“Yes, we’ve noticed the children having strange bruising on their backs..different spots..but it seems to be a common physical symptom of whatever they’ve contracted.” The nurse said. “I’ll go check, thanks a lot lady.” Yusuke said as he quickly ran out of the hospital. A bruise.. “A friggin’ Yokai..plus the miasma Botan talked about..I wonder if that connected..” He wonders as he looks up into the sky..pretty much fidgety at this point as he REALLY wants to go explore the neighborhood.

[huntingtonwestvirginia]

crazy how much taking a break from life can change things!!!

-I'm making art for the first time in years

-I'm reading in Japanese and getting some practice every day

-potentially might get my boobs cut off??? Finally????

-I'm going to the gym again! Consistently!!! I'm lifting weights!!!

-I'm making like no money at my job but with my partner it feels like I can finally breathe despite that.

-IM MAKING ART FOR THE FIRST TIME IN YEARS!!!!!!!!!! TRULY!!!!!

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

I'm deeply sick with something, not sure what, but it's not great. And today is the day I decided to walk 28,000 steps. When I can hardly breathe. Due to the sick.

[arolesbianism]

Thinking abt from the top act 5 again. Me and the bestie having the worst derealization episodes of our lives <3

[solxamber]

Could you do adeuce & the overblot gang (separately) trying one of those period cramp simulators like in those videos?

Overblot Gang + Adeuce + Rollo trying period simulators!

part 2 with vice housewardens + Kalim

I found the idea funny and added Rollo for funsies, I hope you don't mind <3

Adeuce

Ace, being the daredevil he is, straps on the period cramp simulator first with a cocky grin. “How bad can it be?” he says, glancing at you like this is no big deal.

The moment you turn it on, though, his face transforms. “W-What the—” he gasps, doubling over like someone just punched him in the gut. “Okay, okay, this is—AHHH, NOPE, TURN IT OFF!” He’s flailing now, hands waving in panic as he tries to yank the device off, hopping around like a fish out of water.

Deuce, meanwhile, watches with wide eyes, realizing it’s his turn next. “Uh, maybe we shouldn’t—”

“Nah, nah, Deuce, you gotta try it,” Ace wheezes between pained groans. “It’s character building!”

Deuce, ever the trooper, reluctantly puts it on. At first, he’s stoic. “I can handle this. It’s just a simulation—OH MY SEVENS!” He crumples into a chair, gripping his stomach as though his life depends on it, tears actually forming in his eyes. “HOW DO PEOPLE LIVE LIKE THIS?!”

Ace, still recovering on the floor, gives him a thumbs up. “We’re never… talking back to anyone going through this… ever again.”

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle approaches the simulator with the same seriousness he applies to everything else. “This is for educational purposes,” he declares, strapping it on confidently. “I’ll endure it to better understand—”

The moment it starts, his face turns a deep crimson—not from anger, but from sheer pain. His knees buckle, and he grips the nearest chair for dear life, a strained gasp escaping his lips. “T-This can’t be real,” he mutters through gritted teeth. “This is…an injustice to all rules of nature!”

By level three, he’s gasping for air, holding onto the table as if it’s his only lifeline. “TURN IT OFF! THIS SHOULD BE ILLEGAL!”

You switch it off, and Riddle stands there, disheveled and panting, brushing his hair back. “We shall… never speak of this again,” he declares, with his pride barely intact.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona sits back with a smug grin as you offer him the simulator. “Tch, weaklings. I’ve dealt with worse.” he says, lounging lazily as he straps it on. His confidence is off the charts—until you turn it on.

His ears immediately flatten, his eyes go wide, and his whole body tenses up. “The hell is this?!” he growls, clutching his stomach with one hand while the other grips the couch.

By level two, he’s sweating and lowkey whimpering. “Turn it off, turn it off right now.” His tail is thrashing, and there’s no trace of his former bravado. “Whoever made this… is a sadist.”

When you finally switch it off, he glares at you, still slumped on the couch, breathing heavily. “If you tell anyone about this, herbivore, I swear…”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul, ever the schemer, thinks he’s prepared for anything. “This is merely an experiment,” he says, carefully adjusting his glasses as he straps the simulator on. “I’ll be able to handle it with ease.”

As soon as it starts, though, his confident smirk falters. His back stiffens, and he clutches the arms of his chair, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “Th-This is...more than I anticipated,” he gasps, his face pale as he tries to remain composed.

By the time you hit level three, Azul’s glasses are askew, and he’s gripping the edge of his desk like his life depends on it. “MAKE IT STOP! I’LL GIVE YOU ANYTHING! HALF-PRICE AT MONSTRO LOUNGE, JUST TURN IT OFF!”

Jamil Viper

Jamil raises an eyebrow at the challenge but doesn’t say no. “This is nothing,” he mumbles, strapping the device on like it’s a task on his daily to-do list. You turn it on, and for a few seconds, he seems unfazed. His poker face is strong.

But as the intensity increases, you see his eye twitch. Then, he’s hunched over, muttering a stream of complaints under his breath, his face contorted in a rare expression of suffering. “This… this is inhuman,” he grits out, shaking his head. “I could’ve been cooking, cleaning, or literally anything else.”

At level four, he’s pressing a hand against his stomach, sweating bullets. “How do people get anything done like this? Who’s responsible for this?!”

Vil Schoenheit

Vil, in true Vil fashion, approaches the whole thing with poise. “I can handle this,” he says, strapping the simulator on like it’s a designer belt. “How painful could it really—”

The second the simulator starts, his perfect posture falters, and he sits down immediately, eyes wide in disbelief. “Oh. My. Sevens. This is—”

By level three, he’s doubled over, one hand gripping his stomach and the other clutching his chest dramatically. “This is unbearable! This pain would ruin anyone’s complexion!”

His voice is full of horror as he waves a trembling hand. “Turn it off before it does permanent damage!”

Idia Shroud

Idia’s hair is already flickering with anxiety the moment you suggest he try the simulator. “Y-You’re joking, right? No way!” But you convince him, and he reluctantly straps it on “I’m going to die, I just know it.”

When you turn it on, his reaction is immediate. His hair flares bright neon pink, and he lets out the most dramatic yelp you’ve ever heard. “OH NO, THIS IS IT! THIS IS HOW I GO!” He’s rolling on the floor, clutching his stomach like he’s in the final boss battle of his life.

By level four, he’s practically pleading. “I surrender! I’m done! Game over! JUST TURN IT OFF!” His hair is flashing so brightly it could power a small city.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus approaches the simulator with a curious expression. “A device that mimics pain? Fascinating.” He straps it on with a regal air, as if this is just another strange mortal custom he’s willing to experience.

The moment it starts, though, he pauses. His eyes widen slightly, and he places a hand over his stomach. “This… is quite intense,” he admits, his voice calm but strained.

As the levels increase, his stoic expression falters, and he’s soon gripping the edge of the nearest surface. “Is this…what humans endure regularly?” he asks in disbelief. By the time it reaches full strength, he’s staring at you in awe. “You must be incredibly strong to endure this.”

The storm outside, coincidentally, seems to match his inner turmoil.

Rollo Flamme

Rollo looks at the period cramp simulator with his usual air of disdain. "I fail to see the point of this exercise," he says, folding his arms. But with a raised eyebrow from you, he sighs and reluctantly agrees. “Fine. If only to demonstrate that I can endure whatever nonsense you find amusing.”

He straps it on, looking every bit like he’s about to endure a great trial of fortitude. "Proceed," he says, as if commanding an army.

At level one, Rollo barely flinches. He keeps his usual stoic expression. "Is that all?" he asks, voice flat. But as you increase the intensity, his composure begins to crack. By level three, he’s shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His jaw tightens, but he's still maintaining his dignity—barely.

"Interesting... sensation," he mutters between clenched teeth, trying to keep his voice steady.

By level four, the calm façade is gone. Rollo’s knuckles are white from gripping the arms of the chair, and his expression is a mix of panic and fury. "This... device is an affront to decency!" he hisses, his face reddening. "Surely no one can focus through such—"

You take it up one more notch.

"TURN IT OFF THIS INSTANT!" Rollo practically yells, his voice cracking as he doubles over, utterly betrayed by his own pride. His normally regal posture is completely gone, replaced by a man clinging to survival.

When you finally switch off the simulator, he’s left panting and disheveled, glaring at you like you’ve committed a personal offense. "That... was barbaric," he wheezes, trying to regain his composure. “I’ll never question your complaints again. That was… inhumane.” He straightens his robes and avoids eye contact, the flush in his cheeks refusing to fade.

"Honestly," he mutters, still flustered, "what vile invention is this world coming to?"

Masterlist

[belovedhoon]

simulation

pairing: camboy! sunghoon x bff! reader genre: smut, fluff fandom: enhypen wc: 4100+ contains: smut, fluff, unprotected sex (just dont do this), recording of sex, perv y/n, roughish sex, choking, slight size kink taglist: @st1llm0nster , @hmusunoo , @lonelybutterflytae divider credit: @cafekitsune

synopsis: sunghoon is a very popular camboy with a huge following unbeknownst to his best friend y/n. what happens when y/n stumbles across ‘iceprince02’? what happens when she realizes it’s her best friend sunghoon, surely she’ll stop watching right?

fic under the cut >>>>>

Y/N was scrolling through a popular cam sight when she stumbled across ‘iceprince02’ who was live at the moment of her endless scrolling to find something or rather someone good to get a quick self-made orgasm through. What made her click on this particular camboy was his pale-toned stomach and pretty cock. She clicked on his live after it had prompted her to make an account, and she came up with the username ‘xo_darling_xo’ on a whim. When she was finally able to click on the live, her eyes widened at the man’s deep husky voice. ‘He sounds so hot’ she thought to herself. She watched as he had his hand wrapped around his long pale cock, the girth looked like it would stretch her out just right. Y/N got comfortable in her bed, up against her headboard, and began to slowly bring her hand down her chest slowly.

Y/N brought her hands to the waistband of her sleep shorts before stopping. Was she really about to get off to some random dude jacking his shit on camera? Yes, yes she was, Y/N was down bad, so very down bad… You slid your hands down towards your waistband again this time not hesitating to slip your hand into your shorts and rub gently against your throbbing clit, mentally patting yourself on the back for forgoing panties tonight. You observed your laptop screen closely as the man on screen who called himself ‘ice prince’ dragged his hand slowly up and down his cock, squeezing at the base when he would feel himself getting close to his high. He didn’t want to come so quickly and ruin the fun so soon, he knew that he could go again after he came but he really didn’t feel like overstimulating himself too much today…so he just stuck to edging himself. You watched entranced at the sight of his buff arms flexing every time he stroked his very hard cock. How were you feeling so close just from rubbing your clit? That’s unheard of for you, it usually never being enough stimulation for you. You continued to watch with bated breath as he moved his hand faster, his deep groans and grunts going straight to your cunt. The closer ‘ice prince’ got to his high the higher-pitched his moans got and you swear you’ve never heard something so melodic and beautiful.

You could tell the very moment he was about to reach his peak by the way his stomach tensed and by his staccato moans. You were right because a few seconds later you watched as he let out one last loud groan and his thick white release squirted out spilling onto his hands and stomach. You let out a moan of your own as you came to the sight. ‘Ice prince’ stayed mostly silent while he was recovering letting out an occasional whine as he moved his hand very slowly up and down his spent length to draw out his orgasm.

As ‘ice prince’ got up off his bed to turn the live off, you noticed something in his room that shook you to your core…it’s just a coincidence, right? There is no way that you just saw the flag you had made for your best friend on his wall behind ‘ice prince’ when he moved to grab tissues right? There’s no way at all…You studied the room that this ‘ice prince’ guy was in and the realization dawned on you, wondering how you didn’t put it together sooner that this was Sunghoon…your best friend and roommate. The voice alone should have brought up some red flags but I guess in your lust-haze you didn’t even notice. Before you could process what was going through your head, ‘ice prince’ or Sunghoon rather ended the live. The post-nut clarity hitting you hard. There is no way you just came to the image of your best friend Sunghoon jerking off in his room…

You truly didn’t know how to feel about the whole situation, on one hand, you felt guilty for watching your best friend jack off, but on the other hand, you felt even more turned on at the fact that it was indeed your best friend you had just watched climax on camera… How will you face Sunghoon after this without remembering his pretty moans every time he talks?

You stayed in your room for a few seconds longer before deciding to go knock on Sunghoon’s door just to confirm it was him, not directly but just to see if there were any clues to confirm what you had just witnessed. When you knocked on his door, you heard a quiet ‘one second’ and then a few seconds after he opened the door still shirtless btw… You stayed quiet just staring at his toned chest. Sunghoon raised a thick eyebrow at your silence and intense gaze.

“Y/N? You good? Do you need something? I’m kinda in the middle of something…” Sunghoon said his voice confused yet rushed. He really didn’t need you finding out about his ‘secret’ job right now…even if it did pay the bills. He still had his camera set up, and the tissues by his bed, he hadn’t had time to get rid of the evidence before you came knocking at his door. Your eyes flitted up to his at his words, breaking you out of your filthy thoughts. You gave him one last glance before pushing past him into his room before he could protest to see his camera set up in front of his bed and you froze at the sight. Guess your suspicions were right… it was him you had just watched masturbate on camera for thousands of people. You would have never expected this from Park Sunghoon.

You stood there staring at the camera before your eyes were drawn to the tissues on his bedside table and then the flag that you had just seen on his porn live… Sunghoon watched as you observed his room and being the clever guy he is put everything together and realized you must have stumbled across his cam page. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and then turning to you and noticing your flushed face, sweaty neck, and your eyes blown wide with lust. He smirked, you weren’t disgusted no you were far from it…no you were clearly aroused. You had to of watched the full live through there’s no way you hadn’t or you wouldn’t have realized it was him.

“Y/N…I know you know what you just saw was me…and quite frankly I think you liked it, like the little pervert that you are…” Sunghoon said, his tone smug. Your eyes widened at his words, you hadn’t expected him to know you knew about his dirty little secret. You started to protest but before you could finish your sentence, he was suddenly right in front of you his breath fanning over your face. You stared up into his eyes and watched as they darkened at your flustered reaction. You truly couldn’t help the little whine that escaped your lips when he brought one of his hands to your waist and the other to your face caressing your cheek.

Sunghoon looked into your eyes gazing intensely as he brought his lips closer to your own, giving you time to back away if you wished to, if anything you moved slightly closer. He took that as initiative and closed the gap between you two crushing his lips to your own. You moaned into his mouth at the feeling of his soft plump lips on your own. You opened your mouth as soon as you felt him brushing his tongue on your bottom lip asking for entrance. Sunghoon slipped his tongue into your mouth pulling you closer to his body where you could feel his cock growing hard against your stomach. Finally, he pulled away so that the two of you could catch your breath.

“Now that you know my little secret, you should join me one day hm?” Sunghoon said with a smirk, chuckling darkly at the way you panicked. You stuttered not knowing how to react or what to say. There was no way in hell Sunghoon just insinuated you joining him… You just stared at him your eyes comically wide and he just laughed at your reaction before leading your stiff body to his bedroom door and all but pushing you out and closing it, you could hear the sound of it locking seconds later. You stood outside his door frozen, not properly processing what had just happened. You shook out of the weird feeling before going to your room and masturbating a second time remembering how Sunghoon’s lips felt on your own before drifting off to bed, with you guessed it…thoughts of your best friend once again.

The next few days passed by in a blur with exams coming up right around the corner. Your mind is finally preoccupied with something other than that odd situation that conspired with Sunghoon. Sunghoon seemed to forget about what had happened or maybe he was just that good at pretending it didn’t happen. It was pretty awkward for you the next morning, not knowing how to react to what had happened, but with Sunghoon he made it pretty easy to get over the initial awkwardness. The next passing days got better and better and finally, you and Sunghoon were back to your normal dynamic, well as close to normal as you could get with the fact that you couldn’t help but continue to watch his lives…not that he knew of course…you’d never let him know that fact.

Exams came and went for the both of you and finally, the semester was over which you couldn’t be happier about. Now you could relax and not have to worry about studying so much. Now that you didn’t have the distractions of exams…your mind went straight back to the night Sunghoon kissed you with so much passion and the words he said to you…surely he was joking right…? The way he said it, it seemed like he was being serious, but he also hasn’t asked you since so you were conflicted. Was you supposed to ask him? Were you supposed to go to him? At this point you had to find out, your mind was just so plagued with Sunghoon that you just couldn’t resist knowing if he was telling the truth and actually really did want you to make a video with him. So you did what any logical person would do…you walked out of your room clad in pink lacy lingerie and a matching silk robe and marched your way over to Sunghoon’s room and knocked on the door.

You heard shuffling around before the door was opened and Sunghoon was stood there bare-chested once again, bringing a sense of deja vu to you. He stared at you expectantly waiting for you to say something. You both just stood there for a few seconds more before you finally mustered up the courage to ask him what you were there to ask, the confidence from before leaving as soon as you saw Sunghoon’s pale bare chest. God, you were so down bad.

“I…Uh…I was uh…wondering if you were…if you were being serious about what you said a couple of weeks ago…” You finally stuttered out, your voice barely above a whisper. One of his eyebrows rose at your muttered words, processing what you said before a sinister grin appeared on his face. He studied how you couldn’t even look him in the eyes and how your hands were twitching with nerves. Suddenly you felt him lift your head to make you gaze straight into his dark eyes.

“Ah, I thought you’d never come crawling back…I was dead serious about what I said. I was actually just about to start another live, which I know you knew, seeing that you watch every one of my shows and know my schedule.” Sunghoon said, his tone cocky. Your eyes widened at that, how did he know that you watched all of his lives? He smiled at your shocked expression.

“You think you’re sneaky ‘darling’… you left my page up on your laptop when I borrowed it, I saw your user name…’xo_darling_xo’ very cute by the way. It suits you. I noticed every time you would join in Y/N, made me that much harder to know that my pervy little best friend was touching herself while watching me…” Sunghoon said seductively, his voice almost a growl at the end. Oh how he wished you knew that every time he did one of his cam shows he was touching himself to the thought of you in your room, your small fingers buried inside your wet cunt moaning out his name.

Sunghoon opened his door wider, gesturing you to walk inside his room. You gulped walked in slowly and stopped once you heard the door close and lock. Your senses were heightened it seemed like, your nerves going haywire. You listened closely to Sunghoon’s footsteps as he walked closer to you, and then suddenly the footsteps stopped and you felt goosebumps arise at the feeling of his hot breath fanning across the back of your neck. You shivered at the feeling of Sunghoon gently turning you around, his touch scorching your skin, the feeling electric.

“Are you sure you want this Y/N? We don’t have to film this…” Sunghoon said softly, wanting to make sure you were sure and comfortable. You nodded your head eagerly, the thought of Sunghoon claiming you in front of his thousands of fans made you uncomfortably wet. Sunghoon clicked his tongue.

“Use your words, pretty girl.” Sunghoon said sternly, holding your face in his hand and squeezing your cheeks roughly. You whined at the feeling of his rough hand on your face.

“Yes Sunghoon…I want this…please take me on live…” You let out with a whimper. Sunghoon groaned at your desperation, his cock growing impossibly harder at your pleas. He smirked before moving his hand from your face bringing his hands down to your plump ass grabbing it firmly before pulling away from you entirely, you moaning at the loss of his body heat and touch.

“Alright baby, I’m going to start the live normally and then I’m going to announce that you’re joining…then I’m going to absolutely ruin you…” Sunghoon said his tone sultry and deep. You smiled and nodded at his words signaling you heard him loud and clear. He smiled back before he turned on the camera and his laptop, starting the live.

“Hi, my loves…we’re doing something different tonight. I have a special guest joining tonight’s live, someone very dear and special to me…I hope you all can treat her with as much enthusiasm as you do I.” Sunghoon said out loud to his streamers. He looked up at you before gesturing you to join him on the bed, to which you shyly did.

You sat on the bed beside Sunghoon, and he looked over at you smiling brightly then you both turned to the laptop to read the comments flooding in. ‘she’s so pretty…what should we address her as?’ one of the comments asked. Sunghoon thought before telling them to call you ‘darling’ seeing as that was the name you used when you first encountered his cam shows. You continued to watch as comments kept coming in commenting about how you and ‘ice prince’ were so cute together and how you two seemed like a perfect fit. There were also the dirty comments about how they wished for ‘ice prince’ to ruin you. So that’s exactly what Sunghoon planned to do…

Sunghoon gently laid you on your back on his bed, looking into your eyes for discomfort the whole time he did so. You looked up at him with eager, desperate eyes, Sunghoon’s eyes darkening in desire. He undid your robe slowly revealing your pretty lingerie-clad body, and he groaned at the sight of you all dolled up for him. He slipped the robe off your body completely and brought his hands to your bra and unclipped it taking that off as well. His eyes zeroed in on your hard nipples and he couldn’t help but bring his mouth to the right one and begin sucking roughly, his hand going to the other one massaging it with a firm grip. You moaned out at the feeling of his tongue swirling around your erect nipple. Your hips rose trying to seek friction on your needy cunt, Sunghoon hissing at the feeling of your warmth grinding against his hard cock. Sunghoon let go of your nipple with a pop before he brought his hands to your soaked panties and slid them down your legs, tossing them on the floor beside your robe. He took off his pants, leaving him in just his briefs, and then placed his lips on yours kissing you intensely. Sunghoon began to grind his clothed cock into your clit and you couldn’t stop the whines that escaped your lips, the feeling so intense.

“Please…” You begged him, you felt like you were going to explode with how pent-up you were. Sunghoon just smirked down at you, enjoying his teasing torture on you and your body, you were just so responsive to his touch, and that made him impossibly harder. Suddenly he pulled away from you and you protested at the feeling of his body warmth gone. He just clicked his teeth and pulled his briefs down, throwing them on the floor. You could feel your mouth watering at the sight of his thick pale cock…the one you’ve been fantasizing about for weeks… You needed him in your mouth right now or you think you might die.

Sunghoon noticed the feral look in your eyes, knowing what you wanted at that moment. He moved over to where you were lying on the bed and stood and front of you in a way that was blocking the camera setup. You got up on your knees crawling toward him, you bent down toward his throbbing cock, your ass in the air. You looked up at Sunghoon through your eyelashes and studied his face and how he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. You move your hand towards him and gripped his large cock in your grasp, your hand looking tiny compared to his length. He moaned as soon as you made contact with him. You smiled innocently up at him as you brought your mouth to his pink tip. You took him further into your mouth before pulling off and then doing it again. Sunghoon got tired of your teasing real quick and grabbed your hair and pushed you further onto his cock. You gagged at the sudden intrusion and moved your hands to his thick muscular thighs gripping on for dear life as Sunghoon began to thrust his hips harshly, his tip hitting the back of your throat repeatedly.

Sunghoon let out deep grunts at the exertion of his thrusts and he let out an occasional long drawn-out moan at the feeling of your throat constricting around his throbbing cock. You weren’t any better honestly, letting out moans and whines at the way Sunghoon was abusing your throat. You could feel yourself dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets below you. Sunghoon’s moans grew higher in pitch the closer he got to his climax before he suddenly groaned out that he was about to cum. He grabbed your head forcing you all the way onto his cock and cumming inside your mouth, his cock pulsating at the intensity of it. You let out a moan at the feeling of his warm cum coating your throat and mouth. Sunghoon pulled out of your mouth slowly and moaned at the sight of his cum pooling at the sides of your mouth. He then pulled you up and crashed his mouth onto yours, not caring that he had just come into your mouth.

Sunghoon pulled away from the kiss and pushed you back onto the bed crawling between your spread legs. He started to kiss up your thighs, avoiding where you needed him most. If you were going to tease him, he was gonna do it 10x worse…

“Please…I need you…” You whimpered out grasping his hair between your fingers and tugging him closer to your core. Sunghoon moaned at the stinging on his scalp. Finally, he brought his mouth to your clit, licking it softly before taking it into his mouth and sucking on it harshly. You yelled a quick ‘fuck!’ at the feeling. Sunghoon looked up into your eyes as he brought two of his fingers to your slick entrance and pushed them inside you. You were a moaning, squirming mess as Sunghoon feasted on you. You could feel your high fast approaching, so you warned him, but before you could reach your much-needed high, Sunghoon removed his fingers and let go of your clit with a loud pop. Your eyes shot open at the feeling of your high being stolen away from you so rudely. Sunghoon just smirked at you, popping his finger into his mouth and moaning at your taste.

“If you want to cum, you’re going to cum on my cock darling…” Sunghoon said smugly, raising an eyebrow. You sighed nodding your head. Sunghoon then climbed on top of you, his chain dangling above your face and you couldn’t help but whine at how sexy he looked with his hair mussed up and his eyes blown wide with lust for you. You felt as Sunghoon aligned himself with your entrance, pushing just the tip inside you. Your eyes closed at the feeling of your walls adjusting to his head. Sunghoon slowly began to push himself into you, grunting at how tight you felt around him. You whimpered as you struggled to adjust to his huge size.

“Shh darling, you’re okay…You can take it…” Sunghoon wheezed out, trying so hard not to just thrust forward. You just felt so good around him, so tight. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he was bottomed out inside you. He stayed still for a few more moments so that you could completely adjust before he began to thrust into you at a steady pace. You kept moaning loudly at the feeling of his cock dragging in and out of your walls. You could feel your high approaching once more, still feeling sensitive from your high being taken away earlier. Sunghoon could feel himself getting close as well, but he wanted you to come before he did, so he brought one of his hands to your clit and began to run it harshly. He picked up his pace until he was pounding into you as hard as he could, his headboard hitting against the wall in a repeated ‘thump, thump, thump’ sound. Sunghoon brought his other hand up to your neck, squeezing slightly and that was your downfall, being pushed over the edge as soon as you felt him choking you. You screamed out as you let your orgasm take over your body, clenching around Sunghoon tightly, your juices soaking his cock as you came hard. Sunghoon lets out a long drawn-out groan at the feeling, cumming right after you. You could feel his warm cum painting your walls and moaned at the oversensitivity. Sunghoon thrust a few more times to draw out both of your orgasms, pushing his cum deeper inside you, before pulling out of you.

Sunghoon said goodbye to the viewers and then turned off the camera. He then walked into his ensuite bathroom and grabbed a wet rag to clean you up. He walked back to where you were passed out on his bed in exhaustion. He smiled softly at the sight. You were so cute to him and he couldn’t help but fall more in love with you at that moment…you looked so peaceful and content. Sunghoon cleaned you up gently, slipping one of his shirts onto your sleeping body putting on a pair of boxers onto himself, and slipping into the bed beside you pulling you towards him. One of your eyes opened at the motions and you let out a small yawn and snuggled closer to him with a cute happy smile on your face. Sunghoon pulled the covers onto you both and thought about how you two were going to have to talk in the morning about what had conspired, but for now, he was going to hold you close to him. So he did just that drifting off to sleep, exhaustion taking over him. He didn’t know what the future would hold for you two but as long as you were happy, he was happy…

[shirks-all-responsibilities]

K look, I read this standalone, having not read the series so far, and um...you know when you read something that SO perfectly hits every single one of your buttons it's as though it was written just for you? TWAS ME, at the end of this chapter, hands over my eyes with my head hanging down, breathing deep, trying to collect mahself and not completely lose my MINDDD over this. And to come to this chapter fresh, the way their dynamic unfolds was de-light-ful to read...

Just...the way you convey that awful, aching feeling of being "not enough" for someone, of not being their equal, feeling so behind, too weak, the way it feels so shameful, like something is so deeply wrong with you...to feel this way with JOEL MILLER in THAT WORLD is a WHOLE THING that ups the depth of the feeling to a 10.

So to have THE MAN THAT IS JOEL MILLER react the way he does, admiring her talents and what she brings to the table, relishing and reveling in her softness and submission, letting her melt into it, transforming it into something more, earning it, praising her and flipping any negative connotations on their head, turning submission into strength, HIS DIALOGUE is imprinted in my BRAIN NOW, SWEET HOLY STARS:

“See honey, you’re not too soft. Someone so soft couldn’t take it this hard.” His words are punctuated with a grunt, as fucks into you harder. “Wouldn’t let me fuck ‘em all the ways I want like you do.”

Hall of fame smut dialogue right here, I have ASCENDED to another plane, asdfpajsodfiasjd;flaksdj;flsdjkdj;aljfksddkkdkdkdkkd. 🥵🥵

My WORD how I love the way you write this particular kind of dynamic they have here, I can insta-recognize your style and I am VIBING with it. Thank youuuuu so much for sharing what is most certainly the furthest thing from garbage that could be!

Short Days, Long Nights: 7

Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Series Masterlist

a/n: Thank you endlessly, as always, to @mourningbirds1 for being so patient and kind with me, and for guiding me in the right directions when I'm stuck. And to @the-ginger-hedge-witch for reading this through and reassuring me it's not the 9 page garbage that I wanted to delete. Enjoy! ❤

--

“Just let me –” he starts, frowning in frustration when you jerk your hand away, reflexively tightening your fist into a ball to cradle it against your chest. 

“It’s just –” He sighs, a long tired thing that only older men have mastered. “I’ll be fast. You won’t even feel it.”

“I’ve heard that before, Miller,” you say without thinking, and his head jerks up, his eyes narrowing. 

“Bullshit, honey,” he replies, reaching for your hand again. You give it to him, making him tug a little to unfurl it into the palm of his hand. “Wasn’t me you heard that from.”

“No, you’re right,” you agree, giving him a small, knowing smile. “Not you.”

He winks, pressing his thumb into the base of the sliver to see if it will present itself and you hiss in pain, letting out a whimper. 

You know you’re being absurd, but you can’t help it. 

It’s just a sliver, and in the grand scheme of things, you have been subjected to much worse. Much worse. But it was huge and unexpected and buried itself in your palm so deep that it brought instant tears to your eyes and that – those tears – were what made you feel the most fragile. 

When was the last time something that happened to you made you cry? 

Once you started, you couldn’t stop. 

His eyes flick up to your face, his brow knit with gentle concern and his thumb strokes the heel of your hand, making it blossom open for him. You keep your eyes fixed on the movement, willing the tears that blur your vision to stop – but they won’t. A hot trail slips down over your cheek, another one following it and you feel so foolish and embarrassed you tilt your head to the side, trying to hide your face. 

“Hey.” 

His hand comes up, gently nudging your face back to him and he wipes the small drop resting on the curve of your cheek away. “I promise I’ll be gentle. We can’t let it sit in there, okay? Don’t want to get it infected.”

You nod, taking a breath. 

Steeling yourself, you let your hand relax in his and shift your eyes to focus on anything but the sight of your palm: the leaves on the trees, dappled with sunlight. The winding vines in the garden, reaching their way towards the sky. The weather worn deck, with its dried out planks and its rickety stairs and then you’re looking at the railing, the source of the sliver, with a shudder. 

“Stay still,” he murmurs, low and focused. 

His hands are so big in comparison to yours, and his fingers brush the surface of your palm with more delicacy than they look capable of. He presses again into the skin at the base of the sliver with his thumb, his eyes flicking up to your face for a moment before dropping back down to the task at hand and when he digs the tip of his knife into your skin, you clench your eyes shut. 

“Breathe, honey,” he rumbles. 

You do, a deep inhale as he works quickly to peel the skin back just enough to grab the wood and then he’s sliding it out; his knife tossed onto the ground next to him.

Blood seeps slick into the cracks of your hand, a small pool gathering in the center of it and he’s ready for it with a clean piece of cloth, pressing it into place. 

“You seem like you’ve done this before,” you say, balling your hand up around the fabric.

He works a spool of gauze open, motioning with a jerk of his chin for you to give back your hand.

“Taken a sliver out?” he asks, eyebrows raised.  “I don’t think I even feel them anymore. My hands are pretty rough, always have been. I used to have to do it all the time for –,” he pauses, his expression falling into something more solemn and you wait for him to continue the sentence, but he doesn’t. Instead, he stays quiet for a moment, his jaw shifting subtly under the scruff of his beard. “I’ve had plenty of em’ before. You get used to it.”

Working quickly to wind the gauze around the width of your hand a couple times, he secures it in place and before you can take your hand back, he’s bending to press his lips over the top. 

This – this is what you were talking about. Not the deft competency in which he removed the sliver, but the care infused in the action. Like he had practice soothing frayed nerves and touching with gentle hands, had practice in the softness it required. This life wouldn’t have taught him those skills.

The heat of his mouth is a fleeting thing against your skin, his whiskers brushing the cup of your palm and he pulls back, giving you a smile. 

“You okay to keep going?”

You test your hand, flexing your fingers a couple of times and nod, standing up. “Yea, I’m good. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies easily, sliding his knife back into the holster. 

Making your way over to the garden, you kneel beside it and start on the task you were headed for before you got the sliver. Weeds have snuck in, worming their way between the plants and you work diligently, ignoring the catch of your bandage on the stalks. The pain radiating from your palm throbs, a pulse beating in time with your heart and you frown, frustrated.

You should be used to pain by now, you scold yourself. 

Joel’s gone back to what he was doing when he heard your yelp of pain and you glance over at where he squats next to the base of the deck, checking for rotted wood with an obviously trained eye. His movements are precise, his hands feeling along the splintered wood with a practiced, deft touch and the comment he made about slivers comes back to you. 

In comparison to yours, you can’t imagine everything that his hands have been through and done, but you do know some of the things they have and thinking about it, you feel another hot wash of embarrassment at your previous tears. 

You think about all the infected Joel has killed without a thought, all the people he’s probably done the same to just to survive. He’s told you about some of them with zero regret in his voice and you know it to be true, because what was there to regret? They would have done the same to him. You don’t begrudge him of his choices, but rather admire him for them. That same ruthlessness is responsible for keeping you alive for this long, and you wish you only had a fraction of it. 

The pile of limp, broken foliage grows beside you, dirt crammed under your fingernails as you keep going and the ground is cool and crumbly, letting the weeds slip through easily. 

The tears came instantly when that wood pierced and embedded itself in your skin, and the shock of them startled you just as much as the pain did. When was the last time you allowed yourself the luxury of crying? No point in it because it wouldn’t help your situation; no one around to soothe and reassure you but the damp cover of your pillow in your old, shitty QZ apartment; no use in letting the pain seep into your chest deep enough to seep out through your eyes because it did nothing for you. 

You used to think that leaving yourself soft was a strength — a sort of quiet, delicate resilience in the face of harsh realities — and while you still think there was something admirable in it once, you know it’s more foolish than anything now. Softness is seen as a weakness in this world, and you tried for so long to bury your vulnerabilities and your hurt but the last couple months have unearthed those dormant feelings. You wonder if it bothers him. 

The act of him pressing his lips to your palm takes on a new meaning: how long until he gets tired of having to care for you like a child? How long until he decides that he’d be better off with a partner of equal footing?

He hasn’t said anything to make you think that, but self doubt always wins over logic, and your anxiety easily dismisses the ways in which he has only indulged you. While you’ve been here: allowing you to pick and choose the chores you can stomach, tucking your face into the crook of his shoulder to help you sleep, working out that sliver without so much as a disappointed frown. The way he’s always done it: shielded you from violence as much as possible while on the road together, never making you be the one to kill unless you had to. 

The sun shines bright above you, sweat damping the roots of your hair and you get to the edges of the weeds; the bandage already blackened with dirt, the edges of it slightly frayed. Pulling the rest, you gather the pile in your hands and walk them over to the edge of the woods, dumping them there. 

You can feel his eyes tracking you, and afraid that if you look up and see pity in them that you’ll start crying again, you avoid looking back as you pass him, heading back inside. 

—

You had been in a bad mood since he patched your hand up and unable to figure out why, it bothers him. Worry pulls at the edges of his thoughts, nags and picks at him as he works, and he skates carefully around the edge, giving you your space.

Several sections of the deck have rotted, and while he didn’t have the lumber needed for repairs, he took what he could from where he could spare. Busying himself with the task, he is surprised at how much of his skill comes back to him. His hands move of their own accord; the familiar actions of ripping out nails to pull up boards, sawing them to fit the sections he needs, hammering them back into place. Much more pleasant than anything he had ever done on work duty in the QZ, his hands knew this and it was nice to do something that he hadn’t taught them how to do out of desperation. 

He grips the source of your sliver, the warped, dry railing to the side of the deck stairs and tugs it off with more force than needed. Even as rotted as it is, waste isn’t a concept and he mentally saves it for tinder, tossing it into the grass. 

You had been off since you woke up this morning; images of you cycling quickly through his mind: the solemness to your expression, your unusual quietness. It got worse after the sliver, your back to him as you worked in the garden and then avoiding his gaze before wordlessly passing him to head inside the cabin. He doesn’t think you were crying, but he frowns, unsure. 

Picking up one of the large tree branches that fell in the storm, he measures it along the section where he needs it and then cuts it to fit. A tricky job to nail it into place by himself, he gives it a tug when he’s done to test its strength, and deciding it needs a few more nails to hold it in place, he goes in search of more. 

He looks for you on the couch when he walks inside, hesitating for a second when you’re not there. Coming to find you, he peers into your doorway to see you curled up on your bed asleep, your bandaged hand resting in a loose curl under your chin and his expression softens as he lingers in the doorway for a moment before letting you be. 

Rummaging through the drawers in the kitchen, he finds a small box of nails and pulls it out; a silent longing for deck screws and the wide aisles of a hardware store on a weekend morning. Sunlight streams through the open window, the beam catching on the amber liquid in the whiskey bottle and it glows, inviting and warm. 

Looking at it for a moment, he gets an idea and snatching it off the counter, he goes back outside. 

–

It’s late afternoon when you wake up from your nap, Joel lightly shaking your shoulder. 

“Hey,” he says, his voice husky and low. “I wanna show you something.”

The dense fog of disorientation that comes with every midday nap makes you slow moving, his hand finding yours to lead you outside to the deck, and when you see what he’s set up, your first true smile of the day curls along the edges of your mouth. 

“What’s this?”

“You seemed like you weren’t having the best day, so I…..well, I did what I could.” His hand scrubs the back of his neck, his eyes on your face and in another first for the day, his expression looks unsure. “It’s not a lot, but I thought it would be nice?”

He’s brought the blankets from the couch outside, draping them over the wooden bench on the deck, along with a couple of ratty throw pillows for cushioning and a table is set up next to it, with canned fruit from the pantry next to some meat that he’s cooked. To the side of the plates rest two small glasses. 

“Hungry?” he asks, motioning for you to sit. 

Eating together in companionable silence, the meat is flavored with herbs that you had grown, a small delicacy compared to the bland, unseasoned flavor that you had been tasting for months now and you tell him so, smiling inward at the obvious pride on his face. He takes the dishes when you’re done, setting them to the side and you watch as he walks down the stairs, taking in the new railing that he installed this afternoon. Touched, your eyes follow him down to the bank, where he kneels by the water and wondering what he’s doing, you smile when he turns around with the bottle of whiskey in his hands, coming back to join you. 

Pouring two drinks, he then sits down, handing the bottle to you. 

“Here,” he says, curving the grip of your injured hand over the ice cold glass. It soothes the dull, throbbing ache instantly and your body relaxes against the bench, your cheek coming to rest on his shoulder. Handing you your glass, the two of you watch as the sun sets. 

Color streaks across the horizon, sunlight barely hanging on in the glimmers of white that touch the ripples in the water and you take a swallow of your drink, savoring the cold, thick slide of it down your throat. 

“Your hand feel better?” he asks, lifting his arm for you, tucking you into his side.

You nod, grateful for him and everything he’s done and guilt for the way you’ve been acting today creeps up into your chest. “Thank you. For all of this. I’m sorry I haven’t been very –”

He shakes his head, silently cutting you off. “Hey, no. Don’t gotta be sorry. We all have bad days.”

You fit yourself closer to him, taking another drink and when your glasses are empty, he refills them. 

“I’m glad the sky cooperated,” he says idly, tucking you into his side. The whiskey has made you loose and pliant, content. You hum in agreement, the drink softening the edges of your mood, but it doesn’t make it disappear entirely. The worry that’s sat inside you all day is still there, and before you know it, you’re voicing it aloud. 

“Am I too soft?” 

Your lips brush against his flannel, the words so quiet that if it was his right ear that was facing you, he wouldn’t have been able to hear them.

“What?” he asks, looking down at you. 

“Today, when I got that sliver.” You pull your bottom lip into your mouth, squeezing the cold bottle in your hand and you keep your gaze down, ashamed. “When I cried about it.” Your eyes come up to meet his, searching. “That was crazy, right? I mean, who does that? Over a sliver.”

He shrugs, setting his glass down before reaching out to touch you. His hand curves over your cheek, his thumb following the line of your cheekbone and then it drifts down, squeezing your shoulder in affirmation. “I don’t know. It was deep, I bet it fuckin’ hurt.”

You laugh at his blunt response, placing your drink between your knees to take his hand in yours. Pulling it close, you brush your lips across his knuckles, giving them a kiss. 

“Why are you worried about bein’ too soft?” he asks, and then it’s your turn to shrug.

“I just���.I can’t stop thinking about it. About being a burden to you, and I don’t ever want that, you know? I want to be useful and strong, and I feel like –”

His frown deepens, his expression turning serious as he shifts to face you. “Hey. You could never be a burden, okay? Look at everything you’ve done.” He motions towards the garden. “I couldn’t have done that. I didn’t even think it was possible to do that, it never even crossed my mind as something we could do and then you did it.” 

He pulls you closer to him, his mouth dropping down next to your ear. 

‘Look at it, honey,” he murmurs, making sure you’re looking at the garden. “You did that.”

Your vision swims with tears, his words soothing the restless waters of your worries just like he soothed your hand today. 

“Maybe before you had to be tough, but not here. Not with me. I got you.”

You look up at him and he kisses you; tears sliding down your cheeks when you shut your eyes. His tongue slides against yours, his thumb streaking damp over your cheek where he’s wiped the tear away and you deepen it, pouring your gratefulness directly into him. Dusk settles around the two of you, the world a wash of muted darks and the familiar chirp of crickets is a background to your shadowed figures; pressed together, before pulling apart. 

“Is this how you used to court ladies before everything happened?” 

“Court?” he asks, offended. “How old do you think I am?”

You laugh over the end of his question, setting your glass to the side. “Oh stop. You know what I mean.”

The edge of his mouth lifts as he looks out at the water. “I mean, it’s nice isn’t it? Romantic?”

“Joel Miller,” you sigh with a smile, shaking your head. “A born again romantic.”

“Now hang on, honey,” he stops you, and you laugh again, the sound floating into the darkness. Taking a quick sip from the now warming bottle in your hand, you pretend to hold it out for him before you pull it away and then you’re scrambling to set it down on the boards by your feet while he leans into you with a grin, pushing you down onto the bench beneath him. You fight against his strong grip, the weight of his body pinning you down and his mouth finds the crook of your neck, burying his face there as you laugh underneath him. 

He peppers kisses along your skin, your laugh slowing as it slips into something softer and lower and when he looks up at the change of sound, you lift your head for a kiss.

–

Clothing peeled off and tossed onto the floor, he guides you down onto his bed and chases the soft embrace of your body as it curls around him. His mouth tastes everything it can reach: the round of your shoulder, the delicate skin over your ribs, the crease of your thigh. His knees ache as he kneels on the worn carpet beside the bed, dragging your body closer to the edge and then he’s tasting the very heart of you; slick and salt weeping on his tongue. 

His hooded eyes watch from between your thighs as you arch, his hand mapping the curve of your hip before sliding over your belly and up, his palm seeking out the weight of your breast. The skin there is petal soft, molding to his greedy touch and his mouth matches the need in his hands, his tongue delving deeper as his hand squeezes. Your gasps sound so pretty in the dark, so sweet yet filthy and he forces your legs open wider with his shoulders, pressing his face tighter against you. 

“Fuck,” you whine, your fingers threading into his hair and when you start to rock your hips against his mouth, a low, insistent heat gathers at the base of his spine. His cock throbs against his thigh, two thick fingers slipping inside you to stroke with a crook and when you come with a wordless cry, he ignores the protest of his knees and quickly crawls back up onto the bed. 

Caging you in, he settles on top of your body and for a moment, relishes the way you feel beneath him. 

Dazed and pliant, warmth held in your hooded eyes, a smile curled at the edge of your mouth - you look so soft underneath him. It makes him want to protect you, shield your body with his and ward off everything that seeks to hurt you – but it also makes him hard, knowing the softness is just for him. 

His, and his alone. 

He kisses you breathless, waiting until you’re restlessly grinding against each other with need and when he pulls back to guide you onto your stomach, you automatically try to rise to your hands and knees, but he splays his hand over your back, pushing you back down. You stretch out on the bed, the strong inside of his thighs pressing along the outside of yours when he straddles you from behind and the stiff weight of his cock drags along the curve of your ass, his hands reaching beneath you to tug your hips up. 

Leaning forward, his mouth follows the dip of your spine, his teeth catching on your shoulder blade before he soothes it with a kiss and his hand works itself between you and the mattress, seeking out your clit. He grins against your skin when he finds it, the weight of his body draped over your back and then he’s notching himself against your entrance, groaning when he feels how wet you are. 

“You take me so fucking well, honey,” he says, his lips dragging over your shoulder blade as he presses inside with a relieved groan that sounds loud over your whine when your back arches to allow him deeper. You take him down to the base, the squeeze of your cunt unbearably tight in this position and he already knows he isn’t going to last long. The plush give of your ass fits the hollow of his hips, his fingers working your clit in firm, competent swirls and when you clench around him, he shoves in deeper; the weight of his body a rhythmic grind on top of yours, his torso flush with your back as he strokes, strokes, strokes. 

“Harder,” you moan, turning your head as far as you can underneath him and he nods, widening his knees for purchase. His hand drifts down to grip your hip, and he obeys, forcing the air from your lungs with each push inside. 

Your strength arouses him; your blatant need. You’re soft hearted – so soft, softer than he could have ever imagined – and somehow the contrast of that paired with the way you’re arching beneath him and begging for more makes him almost lightheaded with lust. 

He loves that way you’re both. 

Innocence preserved, while begging to be filled. 

Tender and sweet, while begging for it harder.

He can give you both – protection and his body.  Take care of every need you have. 

“Like this?” he says, taking pride in your inability to answer him. “See honey, you’re not too soft. Someone so soft couldn’t take it this hard.” His words are punctuated with a grunt, as fucks into you harder. “Wouldn’t let me fuck ‘em all the ways I want like you do.”

His praise makes your eyes slip shut, a shiver rolling through your body as it goes straight to your core and you arch your back to take him deeper. 

“That’s my good fuckin’ girl,” he groans, breathless above you. “You’re so fuckin’ good for me. So good.”

Your hands fist the sheet, your mouth open in a pant and slick pools between his fingers underneath you, your thighs tensing between his. He keeps going, burying his face into the nape of your neck to whisper endless praises and the grind of his hips slows down, but he forces himself deeper, stretching you around him. He can’t stop his hips from seeking out the tight fist of your slick cunt, his nose filled with your scent and when he feels you come underneath him, his stomach tenses with his own impending release. 

He wants nothing more than to bury himself deep and come inside you, his hips automatically following the urge of his cock but he knows he can’t. Christ, he can’t. 

“Where do you want it?” he asks, his hips grinding, grinding, grinding. 

“Oh god –” you cry, your voice hoarse. “In my mouth, please, in my mouth.” 

He’s quick to pull out, his strong hand guiding you onto your back and you’ve barely slid into place with your face beneath his cock before he’s coming with a groan, one hand braced on the wall as the other works with a slick, rapid pump. 

Moonlight floods into his bedroom, shadows pooling in the dips and valleys of the bed and his spend glimmers milky white on your skin, pooling in streaks. When you lift your hand to push it into your mouth, the edge of your bandage gets in the way and he watches as you tug it gently off your hand, tossing it onto the floor. 

The skin underneath is raw and exposed, the wound still fresh and watching as you use your other hand to clean your face with lingering sucks, he bends to press a kiss to the spot he carved out earlier; your palm fitting his mouth just right. 

[atlabeth]

take my breath away

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: you help spencer train for his fitness exam. he kind of just wants to kiss you.

a/n: some fluff (and something short) after i broke my own heart (and my brain) in my last hotch fic! i’m truly in my criminal minds era. enjoy

wc: 1.3k

warning(s): reader is a runner so im sorry to my unathletic friends. but this is all fluff

“Spence,” you said, unable to bite back your smile, “how are you this bad at running?” 

“I’m—” he held up a finger as he caught his breath and shook his head. “I’m not bad at running. My form… is perfect.” 

“We barely made it a mile in,” you said, and you chuckled as he keeled over, his hands on his knees. “It can’t be that perfect.” 

“It is,” he insisted, on the edge of wheezing. “I’m just unathletic.” 

“You never did sports as a kid?” 

“I graduated high school at twelve,” Spencer breathed. “I was too busy studying. Reading. Doing anything other than sports.” He looked at you and shook his head. “And I’m not crazy like you.” 

Your smile only grew. “You should put your hands over your head. It helps get more air in.” 

“That’s actually a rumor.” He shook his head again. “When you raise your arms, muscles that contribute… to the bucket handle movement of your ribs—” He heaved a sigh, his brows furrowing, and again, you held back a smile. You were sure this was one of his only weaknesses. “—they’re not able to function properly.” 

“Alright, genius,” you said, mockingly but with love. “Recover however you like. You clearly need it.” 

Spencer pouted as he straightened up, his whole face contorted in discomfort. When your boyfriend asked you to help him train for his upcoming fitness test, you didn’t think much of it—you got a full ride through college because of track, and you keep healthy with morning runs, so you were happy to help. 

You’d thought about straight up offering a myriad of times—mostly after bearing witness to his attempts at running in the field. One time, the two of you were paired up to do some interviews, and it ended in a chase. By the time Spencer caught up, nearly dying on the sidewalk, you already had the unsub subdued and cuffed. 

(It took him a while to live that down with Morgan.)

Spencer was gifted at other things, sure—not just everyone is a classified genius with an eidetic memory, and he’s the youngest recruit in history—and you loved him more than anything. But you couldn’t not make fun of him, just a little bit. 

His face was still red, his glasses fogging up a bit from the humidity, and his hair was a mess, so you moved closer in order to brush the stray strands out of his face. 

“Running isn’t my thing,” he said. “Well— fitness isn’t my thing. I’ve got everything else covered.” 

“Oh yeah?” You started smoothing back the strands of his hair, and you offered a crooked smile. “Then why are we out here trying to improve your mile time?” 

“Because it would be nice if Gideon doesn’t have to get all my fitness stuff waived again, and if I want that, I need the help.” His eyes didn’t leave yours, and once you finished, your hands lingered on his cheeks. You nudged his glasses back up to their spot. “And I think I’d run a marathon and die trying if it meant I got to spend more time with you.” 

Your eyebrows rose. “If you want to run a marathon, I could probably get you there. It would take a lot of time together, though.” 

“Please, no,” Spencer breathed. “Just the time together part.” 

You grinned, and you patted him on the cheek before you pulled away. “Running is good for the soul. Why do you think I’m so happy all the time?” 

“Well, this morning you said you were happy because of me,” he said. “Yesterday, it was because we had our first case-free weekend in two months. The other day—” 

“That coffee I had?” you interrupted. 

He nodded. “How’d you know?” 

“Because you made it for me,” you said, “and I love it when you do that.” 

Spencer shrugged. “You do it all the time for me. It’s only fair.” 

“But that’s proof,” you said. “Running does make you happy.” 

“Running does release endorphins, but anyone who likes it is crazy,” he repeated. 

“That doesn’t sound scientifically backed.” 

“The way I feel right now beats science,” Spencer huffed. “And you’re not happy all the time. You frowned 23 times while writing up your last report.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “You were watching me? And counting?” 

He shrugged. “You’re nice to watch.” 

“Very smooth, Dr. Reid,” you said cloyingly. “But flattery won’t get you out of this.” 

“I’m not trying to get out of anything!” he defended. You stared at him, and he held up his hands. “Okay— only halfway. But you are nice to watch. That’s why I’m still here.”

“If you’re watching me while we run, that might be why you’re doing so badly,” you said, amused. 

“No—I think it’s the only thing keeping me going.”

“You don’t really look like you’re still going,” you said wryly. “You should be good at this. You’ve got long legs.” 

Spencer shook his head as he screwed his eyes shut. He let out one last breathy sigh, and you hoped he’d finally recovered. “Also largely a rumor. It’s more about leg strength compared to bodyweight—long legs help with lengthy strides, but you need to generate enough torque to move faster than with shorter legs.” 

You smiled. “You’ve still got facts? Even while you’re dying?” 

“Mostly because Elle’s said it before too. She says I look like a baby giraffe learning how to walk when I run.” Spencer shook his head again. “I think the only thing my height is good for is getting things off of shelves.” 

For once, you tried to reign in your joking. “Is there anything I can do to help? I don’t want this whole thing to be miserable for you. Running should be fun.” 

“We can stop doing this?” he suggested. “I can let go of what’s left of my pride, get all my fitness stuff waived again, and go back to figuring out cases in an air conditioned conference room?” 

You smiled, and you moved closer. “How about this?” 

Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but you pulled him in for a kiss by the front of his shirt, effectively cutting him off. He hesitated for less than a split second, but his hands fell to your waist as he brought you in closer. 

When you let go and moved away, he still had them there, and he was smiling like an idiot. 

“Does that help?” you asked innocently, tilting your head. 

“Yeah,” Spencer said, nodding rapidly. “Uh— yeah. I actually think I could go for another mile now.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh as you ruffled his hair, messing up your earlier work. “I’d love to test that, pretty boy, but I don’t think you can make it another mile.” 

Spencer shook his head. “If you keep kissing me like that, I think I can make it through that marathon you mentioned.”  

“Sure I don’t take your breath away too badly?” you teased. 

“I have some facts for that, but I don’t think they apply.” His lips curved up, and the redness from exertion mixed with his steadily rising blush. “Because you, uh�� you did take my breath away the first time I saw you.” 

“I should start calling you loverboy with material like that,” you mused. “Morgan’s annoyed that I took pretty boy from him.” 

Spencer grimaced. “Just thinking of Morgan seeing me like this makes me want to get back at it. I can’t deal with any more of his teasing.” 

“But my teasing’s okay?” 

He frowned. “Of course. It— it’s kind of why I fell for you.” 

“Ah,” you nodded. “That’s why you’re still at this. You don’t like things being handed to you.” 

His cheeks darkened again, and you laughed as you leaned in to peck him on the lips one more time. 

“Alright, loverboy,” you said. “Ready to get back at it?” 

“No,” he said affirmatively. “But I don’t really have a choice, do I?” 

“Not if you want to pass,” you said wryly, and you gestured back at the trail with your head. “But you know what they say—one step at a time.” 

Spencer grumbled, and he shook his arms out again. “Fine. As long as those steps are with you.” 

You smiled. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” 

[pochaccoups]

achilles’ heel — choi seungcheol

pairing — choi seungcheol x fem!reader

summary — after a knee surgery, your boyfriend feels off about his body. you’re determined to show him just how much you love it.

wc — 3.1k

warnings — nsfw content. minors dni. smut, established relationship, light angst, fluff, body insecurity, body worship, petnames (baby, pretty girl), oral sex (m receiving), creampie

author’s note — hi i still think about when cheol said in a live that he wears big hoodies bc he’s insecure of his body and im still upset because i need him to know that he makes couprangs (ME) feel insane over his body that’s sooo big and strong ok enjoy

Something is bothering Seungcheol.

You’ve been with your boyfriend long enough to reasonably suspect when there’s something on his mind, and while he’s gotten relatively good at putting on a front to his members, it’s a little harder for him to conceal his thoughts from you. You, who’s ever observant and aware of his habits. You, who, when Seungcheol is sick with something even if non-contagious, somehow coincidentally feel the same symptoms. You, who is practically empathetically connected with him.

It’s not hard to notice that he’s been distant, though. Ever since he’d been able to walk again after his surgery, he’s had a weird edge to him that was never there before, like a rescue dog with trust issues. 

By no means had he become neglectful to you. Not once had he stopped treating you like you were his entire world, but it was all in the way his hugs weren’t as tight as usual. He insisted he didn’t need help with things like showering or dressing anymore—which was fair since he could walk now, but when you’d asked if he wanted to join you in the shower, suddenly he was too tired. Once upon a time you couldn’t even finish the question before he was stripped naked and next to you. 

You don’t remember the last time you’d been intimate with him. The moment your lips would make their way to his neck after a soft makeout, he’d ease you away from him, gently confessing that he just wasn’t in the mood, that he was just too tired again. 

And that’s fine with you—you’d die before disrespecting the boundaries which are so crucial to your relationship. You did miss him though, and deep down, something in your heart had told you that, along with everything else, something was not right.

You’re curled into his side one night when you find the courage to confront him.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” 

Your suspicions are confirmed the moment his chest stiffens under your cheek. 

“I know… Why?” he asks, hesitant, as though he’s walking on eggshells.

“I feel like you’ve been acting, I don’t know, off. I’m worried about you, Cheollie,” you admit, poking your finger into his torso. 

Three of his breaths, full of contemplation, fill the air before he speaks again. 

“It’s my body,” he says. “I don’t like how much bigger I’ve gotten.”

You bolt upright, staring dead into his eyes with daggers in yours.

“That’s why you’ve been so squirmish?”

He nods his head, pouting absentmindedly, then continues. “I’ve just felt… gross.”

It takes everything in you not to smack him across the face. Your hands ball into fists, your face growing hot as rage bubbles and stirs beneath your skin. You climb on top of him, trapping his waist between your thighs as you sit upon him.

“Choi Seungcheol, you’re so stupid.” There’s an air of affection in your words, but you hope they’re stern enough to get through to him.

He groans as he hides his face in the fabric of his hoodie. “This is why I didn’t tell you.”

“Because you knew it was stupid? Cheol, you were in rehab recovering from surgery. You literally couldn’t walk for weeks. Besides, you’re acting like it’s a bad thing that you’ve gotten ‘bigger’,” you say, fingers wrapping around his wrists so you can pull his hands away from his face. “Do you know how feral you’ve been making me feel recently?”

“Feral?!” he says, eyes widening as he fails to stifle an adorable giggle.

“Your shoulders are so broad now and it drives me fucking crazy,” you say, falling into a fit of your own laughter because the sound of your boyfriend’s laugh is more contagious than any sickness. 

Lacing your fingers with his, your expression hardens. In the rich brown of his eyes, his insecurity finally rears itself to you—and you’re determined to destroy every last shred of it.

“Love everything about your body, Cheol. Love when you cuddle me and hug me with your big arms, makes me feel so safe,” you confess, your smile radiating warmth. Your fingers squeeze his ones.

“Love how you can carry me around, on your back, in your arms…” You let go of his hands to flatten your palms against his stomach, smoothing up his torso slowly. His own hands, eager to never be empty, find your hips, his fingers pinching softly at you through your leggings.

“Love your thick thighs, love sitting in your lap…” You’ve reached his chest now and Seungcheol is smirking — he’s well aware of your obsession with this part of him. 

“Love when you throw me around, manhandle me like a ragdoll, pin me down…” You’re grasping at his shoulders now, leaning forward until there’s hardly an inch between your faces.

“Love when you spank me…” 

It’s then that something in Seungcheol shifts. His pants grow tighter, his hips shifting underneath you as you straddle him. He likes to think he’s a man of self-control, even when it comes to your antics. But there are times where he abandons all discipline — right now, his head is cloudy because he hasn’t let you touch him in weeks.

“You’ve been depriving me of cock all this time because you’ve been eating too good?” you say, scoffing as you reach for the hem of Seungcheol’s hoodie to tug at it. You pause, glancing at him for approval. Still with a dash of hesitation he sits up, helping you shrug it over his head, exposing himself to you.

“Don’t get too bratty, I can keep depriving you,” he retorts, but it’s playful. 

It’s like your first time with him all over again. All you’d gotten over the past few weeks were glimpses of his bare skin, a peek as he came out of the shower or changed or when his shirt lifted up as he stretched. He’s always been a little modest, but never to this extent. 

The sight of his bare form knocks every last breath from your lungs. He’s always been beautiful—strong and dependable, now even more so. His body has always given you the urge to get on your knees and worship and pray to him like the Greeks did, now it feels as though you were born to do just that. 

Then there’s a pang of violence, too, because he hasn’t even changed that drastically. He’s a little softer in his tummy, his arms a little thicker, but that’s all, really. It’s definitely not something for him to have been hiding out of disgust. Of course, it’s not all too difficult to deduce why he felt it necessary to do it—he’s an idol. It’s his job to look picturesque and perfect and flawless. His mind is bound to become mean, to turn to cruel lies of not being good enough.

Your lips leave a trail along his skin, from his collarbones, to his chest, and down his abdomen. Your hope is that each kiss will help chase away Seungcheol’s every last insecurity. It’s naive of you, perhaps, because it will take a lot more than just this to unravel what he has convinced himself of. At the very least, it’s a start.

You paw at the band of his sweats, lips hovering below his belly button as you glance up at him.

“Can I take them off?”

A nervous pause. Then, “do it,” he says, sighing softly. 

And then you’re pulling them down his legs, down his thick, hard thighs—the ones made for you to sit on. 

His boxers come next, but not before you ask for his explicit permission again. More than ever, you’re utterly dedicated to his comfort. 

It’s instinct how your hand reaches for his cock, heavy as your fingers wrap around it and so thick that your fingertips don’t even touch. The sight of it which you’ve missed so much, pretty, pink, and veiny, has you drooling already, your teeth baring down on your bottom lip. You’re aching between your legs. 

You need him inside you or you might die.

Seungcheol’s eyes sparkle as he watches your lips leave wet kisses along his length, pecking along the veins as you make your way up, then spoiling his tip with sweet smooches and kitten licks in between.

“Missed you, Cheol,” you tell him, breathy and tender.

“I know,” he says, then you take his cock past your lips and he hisses as the warmth of your mouth greets him. 

He doesn’t realise how much he’s missed this, missed you, until his tip bumps the back of your throat and you’re choking around him despite not even having half of him in your mouth yet. His hand flies to grab a fistful of your hair, still managing to treat you gently as he pulls you back.

“Easy, pretty girl,” he pleads, the rasp in his voice instilling within you an urge to listen. His effect on you is trance-like, his honeyed voice irresistible. 

You blink up at him, batting your tear-brimmed lashes at him, knowing how it makes his heart swell. You take him slowly this time, one hand stroking at his base so that no inch of him is left untouched, and you swallow him little by little. 

Seungcheol lets out a low groan, a gorgeous sound that makes the world spin around you. It rushes straight to your core, burning through you, turning you hungrier, greedier.

You can’t help but slip one of your hands down between your thighs, sliding your fingers between your folds which you find practically dripping. Your fingertips dance over your clit, circling it softly before you dip two of your digits inside to feed the insatiable flame that burns in your core. 

“Fuck, baby,” Seungcheol groans, catching sight of the way your fingers pump in and out of your dripping hole. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

He doesn’t need to tell you—his cock twitches in your mouth as he speaks. 

The sheer size and thickness of your boyfriend’s length always proves challenging for you, but the heat emanating from deep within your core begs for you to spoil him—because his pleasure is equally yours—and has you burying him all the way down your throat in spite of the tears that spring to your eyes and the clench of your oesophagus around him. 

And the thing about Seungcheol is that his mere existence is enough to toss you out of your mind, to make you throw all morals out the window until you’re no better than a cat in heat.

He lets out a noise that’s part-laugh and part-moan as your nose nuzzles against the wiry hairs of his happy trail, never failing to be caught off guard by your eagerness even after years of being your lover. His hand settles on your cheek, at the corner of your lips that are stretched around his girth, his thumb drawing soft strokes on your skin.

“I said go easy,” he says, voice strained, but he chuckles amusedly through his words.

You bob your head back up, popping off of him briefly. Webs of glimmering spit connect your lips with his cock, and Seungcheol thinks you’ve never looked prettier. He can’t help but brush his thumb over your swollen lips while his eyes drink you in with a tender gleam. 

“Can’t help myself,” you reply, smiling coyly, then the next moment you’re back on him again, swirling your tongue around his tip.

You pull your fingers from your pussy momentarily to drag your nails along his thighs, so thick and heavy with muscle that you’re certain when you sink them into his skin he feels no more than a soft scratch. It helps when you swallow him whole again, helps keep your tears at bay just a little, helps the muscles of your throat relax so that you can bob your head up and down his length the way both you and him like it.

You don’t go too fast lest he pulls you away for ignoring his pleas, but there’s also no need for you to go too fast. Yes, you’ve missed him, missed having him like this, missed touching him, but right now that’s not what you’re concerned about. All that spurs you on is the want —the need—to make Seungcheol feel as desirable as he is to you. 

So you take him steadily, at a pace that’s enough to get him worked up and simultaneously lets your affection drip from every drag of your mouth along his length, lets you taste every inch of him and every drop of his salty precum. Your soft moans muffled by his cock merge with his ones, breathy and whiny, broken up by praises and light mewls of your name. 

One of your hands moves between your legs again, squelching as your fingers enter your throbbing cunt once more.

You refuse to break your eyes away from his, as though averting your gaze from him even for a second would mean he would vanish before you. It’s also Seungcheol’s Achilles’ heel—look into his eyes and he doesn’t stand a chance against you. 

You could predict the way curses start spilling from his lips and the way his cock starts to throb lightly in your mouth and the way his hips start to buck every time his tip reaches the back of your throat. When it comes to you, he’s weak and he will never hide it.

“Baby, I’m close,” he says, a near whisper. 

His confession prompts you to pull your mouth off of him and he whimpers, pouting shamelessly like a kicked puppy. Some alpha leader. 

“You’re really teasing me right now?” 

“Cheollie… You’ve been ignoring me for weeks and you think I’d just let you cum like that?” you say, but your voice is full of playfulness. You want to make up for the affection you haven’t been able to give him for so long, yet a part of you wants to get back at him a little. 

“I’ll remember this,” he grins.

“I know you will,” you tell him as you clamber up his legs until you’re straddling his waist, bending forward to press a chaste kiss to his mouth and pouting at him. “What if I want you to finish inside me though?”

“Then let me prep you first,” he insists, giant hands finding your hips and drawing circles with his thumbs. He’s about to flip you over onto your back, but you shake your head and press a hand to his chest to keep him still. 

“I’ve already prepped myself, Cheollie, you wanna taste?” 

Before he can bicker back, you push your soaked fingers between his lips and into his mouth, and he sucks them subconsciously, lapping up every last drop of your arousal with a moan.

When his mouth is free of your fingers, he smiles.

“I still wanna touch you,” he rasps, resolute.

You lean over him until your mouth is on his again, but this time your lips slide sloppily against one anothers’ from the mess of saliva and cum that drips from them. Your hands travel up his torso, palms smoothing over his bare flesh, but touching him is not enough. 

“I wanna take care of you, Seungcheol, so please just let me,” you whisper against his lips, grinding your hips over his cock where it lays against his abdomen. 

“Okay, okay,” he surrenders, sighing as your lips drop down to his neck and nip at his tender skin there. “But I’m eating you out for at least two hours next time.”

You perk back up to shoot him an unamused look, in spite of the fact that it’s really a win-win situation for you. You just hate that there’s no budging your boyfriend’s stubbornness. 

“I love you,” he says, lips curling into a ghost of a smirk.

And here is your Achilles heel, because you’re just a girl, after all. A girl not immune to her breathtaking lover’s sweet words, whose heart sways at his whispers of affection to her—to only her. 

Warmth floods your veins. The need to be one with him becomes urgent. 

Grasping onto Seungcheol’s broad shoulders, you sink down upon him, inch by inch until he’s bottomed out inside you and your moans of relief are perfectly in sync. He grips your hips so hard they’ll probably bruise, no doubt having become unused to how sweetly your warm walls envelop his cock like a hug. Meanwhile you’ve forgotten how his dick, in all its thickness, is capable of punching the air from your lungs.

Still, there’s no hesitation in the way you start to bounce your hips on him and it’s not long before the burning stretch fizzles into a glowing pleasure in the pit of your stomach. 

When you’re above him like this, you’re able to take in the sight of all of him. His biceps, bulky and thick, his shoulders, sturdy and broad. Every inch of him is so perfect that you wonder how he’s all yours. You hate to think about how he could have possibly felt disgusted by himself. If he wasn’t already yours in real life, he would be in your dreams, exactly as he is as he lays beneath you. 

It’s overwhelming. Feeling him again after so many weeks, the way his cock drives into you so deliciously, his sculpture-like body—you’re not sure what does it, probably a mixture of everything, but before you know it your pussy is clamping down on him and your entire body quivers with a wave of

“Fuck, I’m cumming too, baby, I’m right with you,” he utters, staring at you as if you descended straight from Heaven.

“No,” you say, and your hips halt their bouncing, yet your fingers are still toying with your clit as you recover from your orgasm. 

Seungcheol whines at the cruelty of it.

“Not until you agree this body is sexy,” you say, teasing, grinding your hips painfully slowly along his cock—certainly not enough to keep up any kind of stimulation.

He gives a pained, exasperated laugh, and thinks fuck, he’s in love with you. He’s not sure what he’s done, maybe saved a life or two in a past life, but even that seems like it’s not enough for him to deserve you. 

The way your walls squeeze down on his cock makes his head spin. If he doesn’t cum soon he thinks he might die.

“It is, okay? I love this body. Now please, please, keep going,” he blurts out, stroking his hands up and down your thighs sweetly, pouting up at you so irresistibly.

“Say it’s sexy.”

He whines again, painfully desperate. His voice breaks when he repeats your words; “my body is sexy.”

You smile like a little minx when you start to bounce up and down him again, even harder this time. Seungcheol moans, such a gorgeous sound, and before long he’s grasping at your waist and pulling you flush against him as his cock throbs and he fills you up with spurts of his warm seed.

As he comes back down with heavy breaths, you pepper his neck and jawline with saccharine kisses. 

“I love you,” you say, relishing in the weight and warmth of his strong arms wrapped around your nude body, in the feeling of his soft yet firm torso that’s one with your own. “You’re perfect to me.”

[morganski-19]

part 1

The next day, there’s someone new to visit Steve. Making Wayne stop in his tracks on his third coffee run. The rumors were true, the Chief isn’t as dead as he was a year ago. Just lost what looks to be half his body weight and all of his hair. Looking gaunt and malnourished. 

But he’s alive. That has to count for something.

Wayne wishes the Chief was there to see him. Give him the key to unlock the chain around Eddie’s wrist. So he’d be able to wake up to a clean slate. That his record will be clear and he won’t get carted off to jail as soon as he’s stable. So Wayne will be able to bring him home. 

Once he has a home to go to. Not just a shitty hotel room that costs more than it should for a night. But it’s right next to the hospital, so Wayne can be here in five minutes if something happens. When his boy wakes up. He has to wake up. 

It’s been five days since Eddie was brought in. Twelve since Wayne saw him last. All he wants is to hear his obnoxiously loud music blaring down the hall while he’s trying to sleep. Or the laughter that could make him smile even when he didn’t want to. Wayne wants his Eddie back, the boy he watched grow all of these years. He’s not ready for the day Eddie wakes up and the light is gone from his eyes. 

Because it will be. Wayne’s seen enough people come back from combat a completely different person. With the scars that are sewn into Eddie’s torso, up his neck, one on his cheek. There’s no doubt that he’s been through something unimaginable. Life changing. 

As much as Wayne wants Eddie to wake up. He’s not ready for him to wake up changed. 

There’s a knock on the hospital door before it opens. Wayne’s expecting a nurse to check Eddie’s vitals, tell him the same shit they have for days. That all is good and he’s progressing. It should be any day now that he wakes up. If the damage to his body wasn’t too much for him. Those words of hope lack their meaning now. 

But instead of a nurse walking through the door, it’s the Chief. 

“Can I sit?” He motions to the chair next to Wayne.

“I suppose.”

The Chief sits next to Wayne, not looking at him. “I hear he’s been in a coma for a few days now.”

Wayne nods, not much in the mood for talking. Civilly at least. Push the right button and the volcano is about to burst. 

“I’ve known a few people who’ve been in medically induced ones like this. They all wake up in the end.”

“I’d like for the cuffs to be off his wrist when he does,” Wayne snaps. Knowing that the Chief has the key to unlock them. “That way he can recover as an innocent man. Like he should.”

The Chief takes a deep breath. “I’m not fully reinstated yet. I don’t have the authority to do anything about that. Even if-”

“Even if what?” Wayne looks at the Chief. Anger filled his voice. “Even if he’s innocent. I know he’s innocent. My boy, my boy could barely hurt a fly, let alone a living, breathing person. He was kinder than people gave him credit for. This town gave him so much shit that he didn’t deserve. Still is. When I’m afraid he might never wake up the same again. So I’d like the cuffs off, so he knows that some part of this town sees him as something other than a villain.”

Finally looking Wayne in the eyes, the Chief takes a second to think. Nodding his head in thought. “You smoke?”

Wayne scoffs. “That really what you're thinking of right now?”

“Answer the question.” Something about the Chief makes Wayne believe there’s more to his words. 

“I do.”

“Great,” he stands, waiting for Wayne at the door. “Come on, let’s go.”

Wayne gets up, mainly because he doesn’t really have a choice but also because he wants to see where this is going. They pass Harrington in the hall, talking to someone on the phone. 

“Yeah, I’m free tomorrow. Can’t wait to sleep in my own bed. No don’t do that. Cause I don’t think it’s time to throw a party yet, not while.” He makes brief eye contact with Wayne as they walk by. Before turning away. “Just won’t feel right without all of us.”

Wayne has no clue who he’s talking about, but it’s probably not Eddie. Hopes it isn’t. He still doesn’t know how he feels about this kid, even if he knows Eddie’s innocent. Doesn’t forgive him from his past, if rumors are true. And knowing who his dad is, Wayne wouldn’t be surprised if they all were true. 

The Chief leads him to the side of the hospital, where there’s no foot traffic. No one around to hear. Wayne suddenly understands what this might all be about. Something not for wandering ears. 

“What I say does not leave this conversation,” he starts, handing Wayne a cigarette. Lighting his own before passing the lighter to Wayne. “Got it?”

Wayne nods. 

“I know Eddie’s innocent. But there’s some weird shit that was happening around then that I cannot tell you about it. All you need to know is that the Feds are involved, and they’re looking for a fall guy. And I’m trying my hardest to make sure that the fall guy isn’t your nephew. So while it might not seem like it, some progress is being made. Your nephew will be a free man when he wakes up. I give you my word on that.”

“I don’t even know how to start processing what you just said.” Wayne takes a long drag from the cigarette, letting the smoke blow out into the alleyway. 

The Chief laughs. “That was all of us the first time this happened. I’d say it gets easier but it really doesn’t.”

“The first time?”

“There’s a lot more to this town than meets the eye.”

“How do I know your word is any good?”

The Chief considers this for a moment. “You don’t really. But who else do you know who can fix this?”

With that, the Chief nods goodbye and heads to the parking lot. Leaving Wayne with more questions than answers, and a little flame of hope he’s wishing won’t get put out.

part 3

I don't know how many parts this will be but I do know they will be posted sporadically whenever I have time to write them. So, no promises of consistency.

also, tag list. I tagged anyone who asked/seemed interested in a part two. please let me know if you would like to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar, @tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda, @fandomsanddeath, @marismorar

[whispering-about-the-tmnt]

Some headcanons regarding TMNT physiology

Over the years, I have come up with some headcanons regarding how I believe the Ninja Turtles' bodies work. I thought that perhaps it might be nice to finally share them with all of you.

These don't apply to all the iterations, of course, but they are pretty well universal in my mind, and I tend to incorporate most of them into my fanfics.

The Turtles (like leatherback sea turtles, echidnas, and some dinosaurs) are mesotherms, meaning they are neither warm nor cold blooded. They are, instead, in a middle-ground: they internally generate heat, but not to a constant temperature. In the Turtles' case, they will shiver when cold, and their bodies will not shut down right away when the temperature dips too low, though they may lose some energy and find it hard to concentrate.

Unlike many other modern reptiles and amphibians, who have a three-chambered heart, the Turtles have four-chambered hearts (like mammals and dinosaurs) that are larger and stronger than average human hearts and located at the center of their chests.

While the average human blood capacity is around five liters, the Turtles have about seven. Much of the blood flows under the shell -- a remnant of their lives as ordinary turtles, whose own blood does so in order to warm them when they bask. This means that the Turtles could lose close to three liters of blood before dying, while a human would only be able to lose two.

Their blood is also highly efficient at clotting, but that also means that storing blood for transfusions is difficult, and so must be directly transfused from one turtle to another in emergency situations.

Owing to their extensive circulatory system, they also have a larger lung capacity than humans and more oxygen-rich blood, and so are able to hold their breath for extended periods of time without adverse effects. Other than this, the Turtles' respiratory system is very much like humans', utilizing a diaphragm to inflate and deflate their lungs.

Like regular turtles, they do not have ribs, but rather their carapaces and plastrons serve that purpose, and they have muscles under their shells that keep their internal organs right where they belong.

Also like regular turtles, their spines curve along the insides of their shells. A direct hit on the center of their shells, then, could cause damage to their spinal column and nervous system, but fortunately their vertebral shields offer a fair amount of protection, so it would take quite an impact.

The Turtles are highly resistant to most infections and diseases, which increases their immunological responses. They do not get sick easily, and they recover quickly.

While their scales are not apparent, they are integrated into their skin, making it tougher than human skin. It takes a very hard hit to raise a bruise, and it is difficult to cut through without a very sharp or pointed blade.

Their bones are similar to humans, but are more resistant to breaking. They also heal quicker and stronger if they are broken.

Their muscles are also very close to human-like, but they are stronger than an average human due to compensating for the extra weight they carry in their shells. Because of this, their ligaments and tendons are also tougher, and it is difficult for them to have a joint dislocated.

Their sense of smell is more acute than humans, but not to an extreme degree. They are also not as bothered by foul smells (though this has more to do with living in a sewer than their physiology).

Their eyes are a bit tougher and more resistant to damage than human eyes due to a protective membrane that covers them. They see a bit better than humans in dark places and underwater.

Their hearing is somewhat more attuned to lower frequencies than human hearing, and is not dependent on external ears but rather an internal auditory system (making direct damage to their hearing unlikely).

They are capable of being knocked unconscious, but it takes a significant impact. Permanent or lingering damage to their brains is unlikely due to their structure, and so they also do not tend to suffer the same side-effects that humans would in the same circumstances (nausea, memory loss, etc.).

Although their nutritional needs are similar to humans, they do not need to eat every day, and in fact can get by quite well without food for a week if necessary (though they won't enjoy it). When food is readily available, however, they will eat as much as possible to store up energy. Their metabolism does not slow down when they do not eat, so overexerting themselves when they haven't had any food for a while can burn them out suddenly.

Their sleep schedules are much like most diurnal animals, though they are able to stay awake for extended periods of time and can get by on little sleep, if necessary. There have been times when they have been awake for days on end, getting by on short one hour naps here and there. In general, though, they like to have a regular sleep/wake cycle.

Like other reptiles, the Turtles never stop growing throughout their lifetimes; however their growth is slow, topping off at about 1-2 inches every five years.

Does anyone have anything they would like to add to the list? I actually had fun compiling it!

[anniespositivity]

Friendly reminder that you do not have to be on adventures and experience new things all the time. You might feel this pressure to do "cool" things every day just so you can tell other people what you did. But darling, you should live your life for yourself, not for the stories you might be able to tell. All you really need to do is be. Be in the moment. Be kind to yourself. Be there for yourself. Listen to your soul, listen to what it craves. Go on adventures and explore the world for the right reasons. Rest and recover when your body tells you to. I know that sometimes when you stand still, there can be a lot of uneasiness, because you think you have to go somewhere and do something amazing. But remember: It is absolutely okay to have days where all you do is breathe and take it easy. There is so much meaning in the slow days as well, my love.

[lassieposting]

Been thinkin about Astarion + vampire biology so have some headcanons and the bits of game lore they're based on

Dialogue establishes that Cazador has been successfully passing himself off as a regular noble for centuries, and Astarion confirms that while he's considered a bit reclusive, he does mingle with the upper class of Baldur's Gate and has a property specifically for hosting fancy events.

Vampires are camouflage predators, whose primary hunting strategy is to blend in with their prey until the perfect time to strike. Their ecological niche is not a particularly safe or stable one - they live hidden in plain sight, usually in sizeable cities, for easy access to prey, but they know that if they are discovered they will be rooted out and killed or driven away. They are rarely able to get away with attacking in public, where city guards might rush to the aid of a screaming victim - they have to isolate their target before killing it. The ability to blend in, to be overlooked by their target, until it is too late is essential.

Cazador is, as far as we know, the only true vampire in Baldur's Gate

This is because true vampires are aggressively territorial. Like most apex predators, they eat a lot, and need substantial territories to support them - even moreso if they have a partner or spawns. Ascendant!Astarion would need to hold onto the entire city, as Cazador did, to be able to feed himself and Tav without raising suspicion.

True vampires are relatively rare, but there are more of them than there are cities, so it's not uncommon for one to set up in an occupied city and try to oust the sitting resident. The challenger usually believes himself to be as strong or stronger than the current tenant: these territorial disputes usually end in at least one death, so they're not to be entered into lightly.

Astarion is very obviously a vampire: his fangs are visible, as are his bite scars; he's so pale multiple people comment on it; his eyes are red, etc.

Astarion is not a healthy vampire.

This is a man who has been kept on the knife's edge of starvation and tortured regularly for 200 years, and to another vampire, that would be clear from the state of him: Astarion is a camouflage predator who is so malnourished he is no longer able to blend in.

Tav will get an up-close look at his transformation over the course of the game and during the years afterwards: the more healthy and well-fed Astarion becomes, as his body catches up on its immense energy deficit and begins to recover, the better he will be able to mimic a living elf. His skin will be able to bleed, or blush, or bruise, none of which he's capable of while actively starving. Hia fangs will retract until he needs them, not invisible but less obvious - having them out all the time is a response to severe deprivation; he's so hungry his body can't risk losing prey to the split second it takes Cazador to snatch a rat back, so he's permanently in bite mode, hyperaware, ready to strike. Some body functions will come online that he didn't even know he had, the ones that are supposed to help him blend in - his eyes will start producing pigment to look darker, less scarlet and more burgundy, to be more easily mistaken for brown; his lungs will make him breathe automatically even though he doesn't need it, he'll start being able to eat normal food without getting sick again, though he still won't get any nourishment from it; he'll heal faster. He'll even be able to get drunk, though he'll burn through it very quickly. As it stands, all those extra systems have been shut down by his starving body - they're useful, but nonessential, and he needs every single bit of energy funnelled into just keeping him alive and functional.

There is probably an intentional bit of psychological warfare against the spawns on Cazador's part here - him starving them strips them of their natural defences, and every time he makes them leave the mansion to hunt, they have to do so knowing that they're poorly hidden and vulnerable. But it's established that true vampires treating their spawn poorly or outright abusing them is A Thing, so it's not the only reason - he sees them as property rather than people, he keeps them weak so they won't plot against him, he's acting out his own trauma from Vellioth on them, he just wants to - but it does feed into it.

Astarion can, at one point, identify old blood as belonging to the player character. He also gets excited at another point if an enemy character runs away, stating, "Now it's a hunt."

He says that "even stale, [he'd] recognise that bouquet anywhere." This confirms a few things for us:

He has a vastly superior sense of smell capable of identifying individuals by scent and - since he can tell who the blood belongs to even after some time has passed - following scent trails.

This confirms that although city-dwelling vampires may primarily hunt via luring a victim to a secondary location before killing it, they still have the "stalk down and chase" predator instinct. Since Astarion can't lure wildlife anywhere, this is almost certainly how he's been hunting to supplement his diet when he's not using the player as his personal caprisun.

The fact that he can scent out prey before killing it means he has this ability all the time - he can smell blood while it's still safely inside the owner's body.

So scent is probably relevant to how vampires process the world. The more time each companion spends with him, the more he gets used to their scent, starts associating it more with safety and camaraderie than with a potential meal, and so he becomes more relaxed around them. As he learns to link the player's scent with love and comfort and trust, the more likely he is to retreat to their tent over his own when he's injured or afraid or having a trauma moment. When he's fond of someone, something of theirs will go conveniently missing - he's moving their scent into his little safe space, it's comforting for him. He can tell when his lover is hurt or aroused or frightened - though not which of the three applies - from a distance, because his sense of smell can pick up the spike of adrenaline rushing into their bloodstream.

But that also means that he can never feel like he's got any distance from Cazador while he's living in the mansion - even if the man isn't in the same room, the entire place reeks of him, and it makes Astarion feel like Cazador is breathing down his neck all the same. Ascendant Astarion would have a really, really hard time sticking it out in that mansion with stale Eau de Cazador all over the place. It means that he's put instantly on edge by the faint scent of one of his siblings as he walks through the lower city - when seven vicious, territorial apex predators are confined to a single small dormitory, several hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year, fights are going to be nasty and frequent, and although Cazador wouldn't allow them to kill each other, considering how many of his siblings refer to him as weak or a runt, Astarion probably didn't win them very often. So. Having a highkey advanced sense of smell is a mixed bag.

[logansdoll]

ivy, l. howlett

typically saturdays are for relaxation... not treating car crash victims.

CW: canon typical violence, gore, guns, mutation, profanity, innuendos, mature themes, mentions of sex, y/n is very poison ivy-esque, jean grey exists but is not present, etc.

The longer you lived in the mansion, the quicker you realized you'd never get a true day to yourself again.

You tied up your hair with a heavy sigh, the click of your heels loud against the steady beep of the man's EKG.

Calmly, you glanced at the monitor, soft eyes combing over his QRS complex in an attempt to double check for any abnormalities.

His mutation was one you had never seen before, and you wanted to make sure it didn't affect the efficacy of your data.

Despite being a victim of a nasty car accident, his heartbeat, along with his many other vitals, were ones of a person with a perfect bill of health.

'A healing ability along with his claws?'

Looking up, you held your hand out to the small philodendron across the room, using your power to grow one of its stems and reach toward the table, grabbing the parts for a syringe and bringing it to you.

"Thank you, Phil," you hummed, carefully returning him to his pot.

What would really back up your hunch would be a blood sample...

Expertly, you assembled the injector, doing so with perfect ease as if you'd done it a hundred times before—which you had.

Once it was done, you gently slid your hand under his arm, turning it over to reveal the veins near the crease of his elbow.

You held the needle at the ready, just inches away from pricking his skin, before thoughtlessly glancing up at his face.

For about the sixtieth time in the hour.

'Damn...'

He was absolutely, positively gorgeous—the handsomest man you had ever seen.

Rugged, hunky features with sexy facial hair to match, paired with thick arms, delicious pectorals, and abs carved out of stone.

'You've had a chance to gawk... now back to business.'

Clearing your throat, you quickly shook yourself out of it, refocusing on the task at hand and pressing the needle against his skin.

Big mistake.

In an instant, he was awake and jumping off the table, the shock forcing you to drop the needle as he grabbed you, slinging his arm around your neck.

Eyes wide, you quickly reached out to Phil, the small plant quickly growing humongous right before your eyes.

The mystery man stared at it, brows furrowed in confusion, until one of its newly acquired vines shot straight for his head, forcing him to let go of you and dive out of the way.

Gasping for air, you thankfully clutched your throat, attempting to catch your breath as Phil's limbs chased the man out into the hall.

'The professor'll stop him from hurting anyone upstairs... hopefully Phil can grab him before then...'

Slowly starting to recover, you grasped the table's edge, using it to hoist yourself back up on your feet, grumbling to yourself about how rough he was.

Suddenly, the vines began to recede, one of them resting on your shoulder and blooming a flower.

"He made it to the elevator?" you parroted, turning to the plant and catching the blossom as it gracefully fell into your palm, reporting the new development.

You let out a knowing sigh, already able to foresee the scolding you were about to receive from the team's leader.

"Scott's gonna kill me..." 

Why did shit like this always happen to him?

It was beginning to become routine for Logan to wake up in unknown places, with people he's never seen before, yet people who seemed to know everything about him.

"I'm Charles Xavier. Would you like some breakfast?" the old man in the wheelchair asked, cool as a cucumber despite the strange man standing in his office.

"Where am I?" Logan asked, brows furrowed and eyes flicking around the room in an attempt to find some sort of clue.

"Westchester, New York," Xavier answered, wheeling out from behind his desk. "You were attacked. My people brought you here for medical attention."

"I don't need medical attention."

The old man made a small smile, "Yes, of course."

He seemed to have an answer for everything...

Suddenly, the memory of a little stowaway popped into Logan's head, reminding him of the precarious situation she was in.

"Where's the girl?" he asked again, still looking around.

"Rogue? She's here. She's fine."

"Really?"

Just then, the door opened, a woman with stark white hair strutting in with a man—who had the weirdest sunglasses in the world—at her side.

"Ah, Logan, I'd like you to meet Ororo Monroe, also called Storm," Xavier introduced, Ororo greeting him with a soft hello, "Along with Scott Summers, also called Cyclops."

Scott held out his hand to shake, but was met with a suspicious glare that held little to no warmth at all.

"They saved your life."

That is... until you came walking in after.

"And I believe you've already met Dr. (y/n) (l/n)."

His eyes flicked to yours, and there he saw the most beautiful woman he had seen in a long time—and trust, he had seen plenty.

The way your curls framed your face...

The way your clothes accentuated your figure...

The way your skin seemed to glow, despite being indoors...

You looked like you stepped out the pages of a beauty magazine, or the screen of a blockbuster movie.

'Damn...'

He wasn't one to stare, but you made it hard not to.

"You're in my school for the gifted. For mutants," Xavier continued, stealing away his attention. "You'll be safe away from Magneto."

"What's a Magneto?"

"A very powerful mutant who believes that a war is brewing between mutants and the rest of humanity. I've been following his activities for some time. The man who attacked you is an associate of his called Sabretooth."

"Sabretooth?" Logan raised a brow, amused.

The professor nodded, and Logan quickly turned to Ororo, pointing, "Storm," he clicked his tongue.

He faced Xavier again, donning what seemed like a rarely occurring smile.

"What do they call you? Wheels?" 

Letting out a dry laugh, he started toward the door, done with the conversation.

"This is the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

But Scott didn't move out of his way, instead standing firm in his place.

"Cyclops, right?" Logan grabbed him by the shirt, roughly. "You wanna get out of my way?"

"Logan, it's been almost fifteen years, hasn't it?" Xavier stopped him. "Living from day to day, moving from place to place, with no memory of who or what you are."

Logan whipped around, facing the professor with a sharp glare, "Shut up."

"Give me a chance... I may be able to help you find some answers."

"How do you know?"

On cue, Xavier's voice began to echo in his mind, whispering words that didn't seem to come out of his mouth.

'The hell...'

"What is this place?"

By the professor's powers of persuasion, he managed to calm Logan down, filling him in on everything about Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters and convincing him to compromise long enough for you to finish your tests.

Which was why he was now back on your work bench, staring up at you intensely as you removed the small, plastic patches from his skin.

"I'm sorry," he blurted, seemingly out of nowhere—but he honestly felt guilty for nearly strangling you to death.

You knew that... but you wanted to hear him say it.

"Sorry for what?" you asked, innocently, as you plucked off the last few.

"If I hurt you," he clarified, pointing to your neck.

Pleased, you gave him a warm nod, flashing a small smile before turning and starting up the MRI.

Maybe he wasn't so bad after all...

"So... you couldn't wait to get my shirt off again, huh?"

'Never mind.'

You glanced back at him, letting out a soft scoff at his gall before pressing the button and sending him sliding into chamber, abruptly.

Once he was fully in, you headed over to the viewing room next door, where the others waited for you to explain what they were seeing.

"The metal is an alloy called adamantium. Supposedly indestructible," you started, looking at the X-rays of his skeleton. "It's been surgically grafted to his entire skeleton."

"How could he have survived a procedure like that?" Ororo asked, concerned.

"His mutation," you answered. "He has uncharted regenerative capability, which enables him to heal rapidly."

You crossed your arms over your chest.

"This also makes his age impossible to determine. He could very well be older than you, Professor."

"Who did this to him?" Scott asked.

"He doesn't know, nor does he remember anything about his life before it happened."

"Experimentation on mutants," Xavier sighed, thoughtfully. "It's not unheard of... but I've never seen anything like this before."

"What do you think Magneto wants with him?" you asked, worried.

A face off with him would spell doom for Logan.

He could very well just rip the metal bones right out of him, form a skewer, and impale him with his own skeleton.

'Gross...'

The thought made your stomach churn.

"I'm not entirely sure it's him Magneto wants..."

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 4

Part 1: Linked Here | Part 2: Linked Here | Part 3: Linked Here

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋

Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Making Out, Smut

CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, spicy scenes, lemon

Link to My Master List

“Sir, UA has such a strict and well-planned curriculum. What could possibly have been “neglected” by the faculty and staff?”

Aizawa smirks at Ida as if the young Engine hero has made a particularly funny joke. He looks out at the class and takes a deep breath before his next statement:

“This afternoon Recovery Girl and Midnight will be joining us as we discuss a crucial topic. We are going to walk you through an Intro to our Sex Ed curriculum.”

The class is silent. Then, a hiss rises from the back right of the classroom.

“Yesssss. Yesss! Finally! You’re finally granting permission for us to appreciate all of the gorgeous ladies in our class! It’s my time to shine - ”  Mineta’s unhinged chattering is silenced when Mr. Aizawa easily wraps him in his capture gear.

“Does anyone else have an inappropriate comment to share?” The teacher asks lazily. The class says nothing. Mineta whimpers pathetically beneath the layers of binding cloth and Erase rHead ignores him.

There’s a bright knock at the classroom entrance. Before anyone can answer, the large door flies open to reveal UA staff members Midnight and Recovery Girl. As usual, Midnight is sparkling with energy, smiling devilishly at the class as she glides into the room. Recovery Girl has less flare as she steps into the classroom – her movements are quiet and stiff. The wrinkles on her face tell stories of a lifetime of hero work.

“Hello, Class.” The school nurse says as she stands before them all. “I’m so sorry we didn’t get to this conversation at the beginning of the year. There’s just been so much chaos and injury lately surrounding UA, we weren’t able to prioritize the Sex Ed curriculum the way we normally do.” She beams at them, looking pleased to be out of the infirmary for once.

Midnight sweeps her arms out dramatically. “Your changing hormones are no doubt running rampant! We’re here to tame you little demons. Let me dominate this conversation and teach you the true meaning of pleasure.”

Mineta groans audibly from within his binding cocoon, and a look of disgust flashes across Mr. Aizawa’s face.

“Settle down, Midnight.” He turns to address the class at large. “As part of the curriculum we will have monthly Sex Ed & Health seminars run by Midnight, Recover Girl and me. During these sessions we will discuss the basics surrounding reproduction, consent, and safety. We will also split into small groups where you can feel more comfortable to ask potentially embarrassing questions.”

“To kick things off for today, we’re not going to give you the classic “your bodies are changing” lecture you get in middle school. Instead, we’re going to set some ground rules for living in a shared dorm space with classmates your age.” Mr. Aizawa shifts on his feet and looks over at Recover Girl, prompting her to take over.

The elderly hero shuffles up to the front of the class and grins up at them through thick coke bottle glasses. “Here’s the deal, kids. We realize that you all live on the campus and that your scholarly lives overlap with your home lives in a new and unique way. This is a unique situation, and we ask that you do your best to prioritize your studies and your health at all times. If you find yourselves struggling with your mental or physical health, we ask that you speak to one of us and we can create a plan together to help you get on track.”

“Additionally, we’re expecting you to be respectful of each other’s personal space. You all share a dorm, so between class and dorm life you will be together 24/7. This can be fun since you’re fairly friendly with each other, but eventually there will likely be conflict and disputes. Please come to us for help mediating any tough living situations, we are more than happy to step in and help you sort through challenging relationships.”

“And speaking of challenging relationships…” Midnight cuts in, tossing her thick purple hair over her shoulder as she squares up to the class. “Let’s talk about dating.”

At this point, most of the class’s faces are bright red. The room’s vibe has shifted from curious to uncomfortable and awkward.

“Most of you are 16 now, and understandably you may start to take notice of your classmates in new ways. You may want to explore relationships beyond friendship.” Midnight winks at your class meaningfully. “You are all independent young adults and we can’t control how you feel about one another. But unfortunately, we will be enforcing a strict no dating policy this year.”

“What!?” Mina and Toru cry out in unison. Midnight’s mouth quirks into a sad smile and she looks over at the girls. “Sorry, ladies. We have never had a dorm program before, so there is still much to figure out. Obviously we aren’t going to monitor you all 24/7. But we are going to trust that you are all being appropriate in the dorms and respectful of each other. And that means no dating and no physical relationships between students.” You feel your ears burning at those words, you wish you could look over to see Shoto’s reaction. Thankfully, you’re sure that he’s got his typical stoic look plastered on his face.

“Rest assured, there will be plenty of time in your life for dating and exploring your sexuality with consenting partners. But for now – you are all students first. Focus on making this year at UA count. Learn all you can and grow into strong, supple young heroes.”

Recovery Girl chimes in, a sweet smile on her face. “Despite our zero tolerance policy surrounding dating and physical relationships between students, we will be educating you on the finer points of consent, protection and building healthy relationships in our monthly seminars.”

Mr. Aizawa releases his hold on Mineta and drags himself back to the front of the classroom alongside his fellow educators. “Please remember – you are all minors. We want to reinforce that relationships with adults are strictly forbidden. If any adult approaches you inappropriately at an internship, at an agency or in public we implore you to report it to us so we can deal with it and keep you safe. Many people around Japan know who you are due to the televised broadcast of the sport’s festival. I’m not saying this to scare you – but I want you to be aware that your faces are fairly well known and not every fan that approaches you has good intentions.” He rearranges his binding scarf around his shoulders before looking back out at his class.

“Are there any questions?” Mr. Aizawa scans the room with interest. You turn your head to see if anyone is raising their hand. To your surprise, Shoto’s arm is in the air.

“Yes, Todoroki.” Midnight calls on him, pointing at him with her wildly inappropriate tiny leather whip. “What’s your question?”

“I don’t understand.” Shoto says in his typical flat tone. “You’re going to teach us about sex but you don’t want us to have it?”

And just like that, the tension in the room breaks. The entire class is laughing out loud.

“I’m serious.” Shoto says blankly, not understanding the giggles surrounding him. “Shouldn’t we be executing practical examples of the knowledge we’re learning? Isn’t that how our training works?” Shoto’s brow is creased a bit in obvious frustration, but this just makes everyone laugh even harder. Even Bakugo is joining in at this point.

“Why Icy Hot – you tryin’ to get laid!?” Katsuki cackles out, adding to the chaos.

“Quiet.” Mr. Aizawa’s quirk activates, his hair rising up into the air intimidatingly. The laughter fades quickly. The teacher decides to take mercy on Shoto. “We’re going to give you knowledge and background on these subjects so that if you do eventually want to have a physical relationship after graduation, you’ll be able to do it safely.”

“Think of it this way.” Midnight says, putting a finger to her chin as she talks it through. “We’ll be teaching you Sex Ed theory. Later on in life you can use what you’ve learned and practically apply that theory.”

Shoto still seems a little miffed, but finds this answer acceptable.

“Any other questions?” Recovery Girl prompts.

Mina raises her bright pink hand. “Are the other years allowed to date? Or is it just our year?”

“That’s a good question.” Recovery Girl says encouragingly. “As of right now, dating and relationships are off limits for all course levels. However, we have made a few exceptions for members of the senior class who have recently turned 18 and are in good standing with their grades and internships.”

“Isn’t the age of consent in Japan 16?” Kaminari raises his hand but doesn’t wait to be called on. “Most of us here are 16 – why can’t we date?”

“This is what we have decided on as a faculty. You will abide by these rules.” Mr. Aizawa says firmly, causing Kaminari to shrink back into his chair. “Any other questions?”

No one else raises their hand. “Thanks for the time everyone. You all know where to find me!” Recovery Girl waves kindly at everyone as she makes her exit.

Midnight cocks her hip and waves her leather whip around one final time, signaling an end to their awkward discussion. “Thanks for listening, class! I’m excited to take this journey of physical maturation with you all.” And with that, she leaves as well.

Mr. Aizawa looks out at them all, clearly exhausted. He lifts his arm and reveals a small clicker in his hand. He hits the combination of buttons that open up their hero costume closet. “Alright, everyone – get changed and meet at the gym for combat training. It’s going to be a long afternoon.”

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

Combat training is exhausting as per usual. It’s so intense that you don’t have the headspace to really mull over all that Aizawa, Midnight and Recover Girl have told you. One big question does eat away at your nerves, though – given the class wide dating ban, will Shoto want things between the two of you to end?

During the training class, Shoto doesn’t even glance your way. You ignore him in kind, focusing all your energy on your sparring matches with Tsu and Ochaco. The whole afternoon is intense, your body quickly becoming sore from all the movement. When the bell rings to signal the end of classes, you’re immensely grateful. You troop to the locker room with the other girls and indulge in a long, hot shower.

You have a quick dinner in Class A’s dorm with the rest of your class, scarfing down some leftovers as you complete some homework at one of the many kitchen tables. Shoto sits down next to you with his own meal and textbooks.

He makes a show of setting up his homework – opening his textbooks slowly and laying out all of his pens on the table between the two of you. As he sets out a pencil, he purposefully flicks it so that it rolls into your bowl of soup. You look up at him in surprise and he flashes you a gentle smile, moving his hand to grab the rogue writing implement. He touches his pinkie to yours for a few seconds as he scoops up the pencil. The light touch sends electricity up your arm and you quickly pull it away.

You know that Shoto did it purposefully by the way he smirks at your reaction. You work quietly next to each other for the next hour, studying in parallel. It feels strangely intimate and strange – it’s almost like in studying next to each other, you’re flaunting your secret for all to see. Part of you keeps waiting for Shoto to turn to you and ask to review the day’s earlier Sex Ed discussion, but he keeps his head down in his work.

After an hour or so he packs up his books and gets ready to leave. Before he does so, he glances around to ensure that everyone else is occupied before he reaches towards you and draws a small star in the corner of your notebook page. A moment later, he’s gone – marching back to his dorm room with his stack of books and writing instruments.

You stare down at the tiny star, a smile pulling at your lips. You’re not sure exactly what Shoto intended the star to mean. But you’re sure as hell that if Shoto was breaking off your little hookup arrangement, he wouldn’t take the time to scribble a sweet doodle in the margins of your notebook. Maybe you should just text him and ask what he wants to do – what he thinks? You shake your head to clear it before diving back into your English homework.

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

A few hours later, you end your evening in Mina’s room.

You and Mina are huddled on the floor around Toru, who is drawing out a battle plan on a small white board.

“Alright.” Toru says, concentrating. “Here’s a list of all the supplies we would need to throw a totally-rad-top-secret-awesome party. And here are all of the variables we will need to figure out in order to pull it off in secret – distracting Mr. Vlad King is going to be our biggest challenge. Ugh, and then there’s Monoma. We’re gonna need to keep him from blowing up our spot again this time.”

Mina grabs the dry erase marker from Toru’s hand and quickly crosses Monoma off of the list. “He won’t be a problem this time around.”

You give Mina a questioning look. She waves you off. “We’ll get to that in a minute. Let’s focus on party supplies first. We will need to pick up soft drinks, chips and snacks. We can ask someone to grab paper goods like cups, plates, napkins, etcetera…ooo we should ask Sato to make some sweets!”

“Do you really think the whole class is going to be up for this? They’re all still way pissed about the curfew rule.” You ask skeptically.

“I’ve started asking around on the down low.” Toru chimes in, drawing some hearts stars in the corners of the white board. “So far everyone is pretty interested. I think the class needs a break to blow off some steam. Our course load has been so crazy lately, it’s been a while since we were last able to have some fun as a group.”

“Who did you ask?” You’re curious.

“Despite some initial hesitance, Ochaco and Tsu are in. They convinced YaMomo to come as well. I think she even said she’d bring some tea or something. Midoriya is all in, too – he’s going to work on getting the class rep to be cool with everything. Shoto and Tokoyami said they’d show up if it happened, but they weren’t too keen on helping with the planning process. Sero and Kirishima said they can help us with any heavy lifting. That’s it so far – I’m going to keep spreading the word tomorrow.” She notes all of the people who have expressed interest down on her white board.

“What about Minetta?” Mina asks, making a clear yuck face. “Like, I know he’s a member of our class. But lately he’s been extra gross.”

“Ugh…yeah we kinda have to invite him, don’t we?” You say, thinking back to a time earlier in the month when Minetta tried to smack your ass in the cafeteria. “He’s the worst.”

You’re distracted when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. It’s Shoto. You turn to read your phone so that the others can’t easily see the screen.

Shoto: Hey Y/N. I have been thinking a lot about the Sex Ed class today. I’m concerned that by continuing together we’re breaking the rules.

Y/N: Yeah, I was thinking the same.

Shoto: To be honest, I don’t really care about the rules. I think we should do it anyway.

You smile and warmth bubbles up your chest.

Y/N: I’m in if you’re in.

Shoto: I'm in 💯.

You set the phone down, trying to ensure you’re not smiling an unnatural amount.

It buzzes a second time. You flip it over, expecting another text from Shoto. Instead, you’re surprised to find a message from Honenuki.

Honenuki: Hey Y/N! Check out this song, it’s been a favorite of mine lately.

 You click on the link and it immediately takes you to a YouTube video for an old 1960s song. “Some Kind of Wonderful” by the Drifters. You hastily click pause before the song can buffer and start playing.

Y/N: Can’t wait to check it out!! Here’s one I’ve been listening to.

You shoot back a Spotify link to the latest Sabrina Carpenter song and put your phone back on the ground.

Honenuki: Sweet, I’ll take a listen!

“Oooo who’s texting you, Y/N!?” Toru puts down the white board so you can all get a clear view of it. She reaches for your phone but you snatch it away before she can grab it.

“No one crazy. Just Honenuki from earlier.”

You now have Toru and Mina’s full attention. “Whaaaaat!?” They both cry out, scrambling over each other to get closer to you.

“What did he say!?”

“Did he ask you out?”

“Is he confessing?”

“OMG does he want you to sneak out of our dorm and over to Class B’s so he can make sweet love to you!?”

This last comment from Mina brings you all to silence. And then you break into a fit of giggles.

“No, guys, its not like that! He’s just nice!”

“Ok, ok. We believe you.” Toru waves Mina’s comment off with invisible hands. “And its not like any of us can pursue a fated romance anyway. Not with the new “rules” that have been announced by Mr. Aizawa, Recovery Girl and Miss Midnight earlier today.

Mina rolls her eyes. “Yeah what the hell was that about? It really feels like these extra Sex Ed classes came out of nowhere.”

“Hmmm.” Toru caps her dry erase marker and presses it to her unseen lips. “I wonder if something happened to trigger this response from the teachers. Do you think people in one of the first year classes are actually dating?”

Your stomach drops.

Mina gasps. “Oh my GOD! Do you think someone we know has been having sex!?” She shrieks out, and you and Toru shush her.

“Absolutely not!” Toru flails her arms around for good measure.

“There’s no way.” You say with a shaky laugh. You try to keep your face from flushing. A thought hits you. “And even if people were…doing sexual stuff…how would the teachers know?”

“Maybe someone got caught!” Mina declares, her antennae twitching thoughtfully. “Think about it…maybe a couple was sneaking around in the dorms and one of the teachers caught them banging on campus during a faculty patrol.”

“That would be so scandalous!” Toru yelps.

Your mind is whirring at 100 miles per hour. Did your teachers find out about your little rendezvous with Shoto Todoroki!? The timing seems so suspicious. You try to think back to the past 24 hours – had you left any clues? Had you been too loud? Your mind is in free-fall as you recall the way that Mr. Aizawa had knocked on Shoto’s dorm room door while the two of you were wrapped up in a compromising embrace.

You take a few calming breaths and try to snap yourself out of it. Really…even through Mr. Aizawa had knocked on Shoto’s locked door, how could he have possibly known what you and Shoto were up to on the other side of it? These new school policies had to be totally unrelated and a coincidence. Besides – it wasn’t a crime to be in another classmate’s room. Even if Mr. Aizawa had heard your voice from within Shoto’s dorm, there wasn’t any evidence that you and the youngest Todoroki were up to anything nefarious.

“Ok we are definitely going to investigate this whole situation further.” Mina grabs a hot pink post-it note and sharpie off her desk and returns to the floor. She peels off the top note and writes on it with big block letters: “Who’s Hooking Up At UA?” she sticks the post-it to the wall beside her desk alongside a few other notes listing out projects like “Master Ultimate Move” and “Ace Next Math Test.”

“This has become a mission of utmost importance. The UA tea must be spilled.” She says wisely.

You feign interest and nod in agreement as Toru lets out an affirmative “mhmm!”

At this exact moment, you wonder if you should tell your friends everything about you and Shoto and your steamy hookups. If you tell them now, you’re sure that they will help you figure out if Mr. Aizawa and the staff know that you’ve been intimately engaging with Todoroki. Mina and Toru are absolute masters of gossip and know exactly which strings to pull to get intel. They’re going to make amazing heroes one day, especially Toru with her insane stealth skills.

But no. It feels safer to keep it to yourself. Everything that’s happened – specifically Mr. Aizawa and Endeavor knocking on the door while you’re half naked and moaning in Shoto’s arms – is so totally embarrassing. You can’t bare the thought of explaining the whole situation to your two friends. Would they laugh? What if someone were to overhear? You think to all of the heroes in training with hearing and stealth-based quirks running around the school. Privacy was so hard to come by, it was so easy for it to be compromised. Now the boundaries that Mr. Aizawa had spoken about earlier this morning are stating to make sense to you. You’re all living in such close quarters and respecting each other’s privacy and personal space really should be paramount.

The real question on your mind is this – if you and Shoto continue to smooch in secret, how will you avoid getting caught? The entire student body is likely on high alert, looking for any potential transgressions surrounding the no dating rule.

“I wonder how the other classes are feeling about all these new rules?” You muse.

“We’ll know soon enough.” Mina says, checking her phone. “Actually, we’ll know in 2 minutes.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, nervous at her tone. Toru uncaps her dry erase marker and scribbles down a few more notes on the white board.

There’s an unexpected knock on the door that causes you and Toru to jump.

“The key to all of our plans has arrived.” Mina hops to her feet and scampers across the small dorm room. “Ladies, I present to you our secret weapon.”

She opens the door and reveals the last person you’d expect to be in the Class A dorm – Nieto Monoma.

Monoma stands in the doorway, tall and annoyingly handsome. He’s smiling genuinely and you’re surprised to see him looking so…normal. Typically when he’s within speaking distance of any Class A students he’s a loose cannon.

He smiles down at you and Toru, eyes flickering over to the white board. Toru reflexively moves to cover the plans with her arms, but being invisible it doesn’t do much to deter Monoma’s gaze.

“Hello ladies.” He says in that slippery tone of his. You’ve never seen Nieto in casual wear before. Tonight he’s wearing soft black sweatpants along with a grey band logo crewneck. When he’s acting like a normal human being, his face is actually quite attractive. His long blonde bangs fall gracefully across wide grey eyes in a graceful aristocratic way that reminds you a bit of Shoto. “I heard we’re going to get into some trouble together tonight.”

“Nope. Absolutely not.” You turn and glare at Mina, shooting her your best “WTF” expression.

“Mina! We can’t trust him – he ratted us out last time!” Toru says angrily, still unsuccessfully attempting to keep the whiteboard of plans out of site.

Monoma’s face creases into a frown. “Yeah…about that…”

Mina shushes him and beckons him into the small dorm room. She checks to make sure no one is out in the hall before closing the door soundly and turning the lock. She means business.

Monoma joins the three of you on the floor around the white board. In his dark attire, he looks very out of place among Mina’s hot pink room decor. Mina waits for everyone to get situated before speaking.

“Monoma is sorry. He reached out to me last week to formally apologize to us for tattling on our last party.” Mina says, straightforward and to the point. “He wants in on our next big bash.”

“What’s with this sudden change of heart?” You ask skeptically, crossing your arms as you survey Monoma’s face. He looks embarrassed, maybe even guilty as he meets your eyes.

“Well, you see - ” Monoma starts to speak, but Mina cuts him off with a quick wave of her hand.

“Let me do the talking, blondie.” She shuts him up. “Girls, this time around Monoma can’t rat us out – not now that we have leverage.”  She grins at you and Toru. “There’s something that Nieto here desperately wants. Something that only the three of us can provide at this time. And in exchange for that thing, Monoma is going to keep Mr. Vlad King out of our hair.”

“He can do that?” Toru says doubtfully.

“He can.” Mina says confidently, turning to the blonde intruder with a grin. “Okay, now you can apologize to them, Monoma.”

The Class B menace shifts uncomfortably on the floor, eyes slightly downcast. “Look, I know it was shitty of me to report you guys last time. I shouldn’t have - ”

“Yes it was shitty! We have a stupid curfew now because of you!” Toru bursts out, clearly pissed that her time is being wasted listening to Monoma.

“I know and I’m sorry!” He actually looks sincere. You wonder what the “leverage” Mina mentioned could be to make him act like a regular human being capable of remorse. “I was jealous of your class and the party and I didn’t think things through before I went to Mr. King. After I told him I…well, I regretted it immediately.” He hangs his head in shame and his regret actually feels sincere. His long blonde bangs cover his eyes and he stares at the ground, waiting for you all to speak.

“We would have invited Class B had we known you were interested. But we were under the, ugh, impression that some of you hated us so we didn’t even think to reach out about the party.” You say, feeling a tiny bit sympathetic at the way Monoma’s head is miserably flopped over. “Honestly we didn’t think our whole plan through last time, which is why it was so easy for the whole thing to fall apart.”

There’s a pause. Toru chimes in “Yeah, we definitely could have thought our plans through more. But your hatred for our class contributed to the disaster.”

“I don’t hate your class.” Monoma says slowly, feeling out his words. “I’m just…jealous of all the attention you guys get from the media and from the teachers. I thought that was pretty obvious. We’ve all worked so hard to get here; I thought that once I got to UA it would be an even playing field. But so often it feels like Class A gets preferential treatment.”

“I can see how you would feel that way.” Toru says stiffly, still unwilling to trust Monoma. “That’s a reasonable feeling. But you could have just tried to get to know us instead of acting like such an asshole all the time! We don’t want Class A to always be in the spotlight the way it is. Surely you see that.”

Monoma sighs. “For the past year I’ve really let my insecurities rule the way I act towards other people. And it’s made me an absolute dick. Look, guys, I’m legitimately sorry and I really want to help you make this party thing work. I’d understand if you don’t trust me and if you don’t want me involved. But please give me a second chance.”

You look at him distrustfully. “You’re saying all the right things, pretty boy. But what I really want to know – what’s this supposed “leverage” that we have over you here? How can we guarantee you’re not trying to lull us into a false sense of security so that you can eventually betray us?”

Mina grins. “Do you want to tell them, Monoma? Or should I?”

Nieto blushes, patches of scarlet bloom on his pale cheeks. “W-well…Mina said she could do something for me. Something I haven’t had the courage to try to do on my own - ”

“Spit it out.” Toru says, clearly reveling in his discomfort. “We don’t have all day.”

“R-right.” Monoma takes a deep breath, trying to regain his usual swagger. “There are two things that I want. The last time I reported your little scheme was because I was jealous I wasn’t invited. So obviously this time around I’d like Class B to be part of the party. And the second thing I’d like – a chance at a kiss.”

“You sound crazy.” You smirk at him. But you glance over at Mina and she nods at him, encouraging him to continue.

“So I figured as a more formal apology I could help you all pull off this party. I can distract Mr. Vlad King and make sure you don’t get caught. And in exchange, you could invite my class and give me a turn at Spin the Bottle.”

This is a lot to digest. You’ve never heard Monoma speak so rationally before, and you still fear it’s some kind of elaborate ruse. Also…he’s interested in your game of Spin the Bottle!? Weird.

“So who do you want to kiss?” Toru asks, a giggle bubbling up. “…Kendo!?”

Monoma looks away, embarrassed.

“Nope, that’s not it.” You say, grinning at Monoma’s obvious embarrassment. “If you don’t tell us, we have no shot at making it happen for you.”

“It’s Hitoshi Shinso.” Mina says knowingly, crossing her arms. “You want us to rig spin the bottle so that you’ll be able to kiss Shinso.”

You and Toru gasp and Monoma’s cheeks get red again. He covers his face with his hands, hiding himself from sight.

“Shinso!?” You and Toru cry out in shock. Monoma looks up at you all, his eyes wide. He’s got that unhinged look that you’ve come to expect from him during training exercises.

“Of course it’s Shinso!” Monoma bursts out – he’s back to his usual self. “He’s a goddamn wonder! He’s the only member of your class that truly deserves the prestige that Class A seems to exude!”

“Dial it back, dude.” Mina admonishes, and Monoma comes back to himself.

 “Listen. At this point, you guys have been around me in our joint training sessions enough times to know that I can be…challenging as a classmate and as a friend. Shinso doesn’t treat me like I’m some kind of burden or freak. Over the past semester, he’s become one of my closest friends. He’s kind and thoughtful and brave. Jeez, I have such a massive crush on him, I’m not even sure what to do at this point.”

He rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment but continues on. “I overheard you all talking about your crazy ‘spin the bottle’ plan last month and its been stuck in my brain ever since. It would be the perfect way for me to organically be affectionate with Shinso. I don’t have the courage to confess my feelings to him on my own, and I thought that maybe… well maybe if the two of us kissed, then I could finally know how he feels about me. I could see if we’re more than friends.”

“Anyway I really shouldn’t have ratted you out to the teachers, that wasn’t cool. You have my sincere apologies.”

“What’s in it for us, Phantom Thief?” You cross your arms.

“Monoma is going to help keep Mr. Vlad King off of our trail. He and Class B are going to cause a diversion that will keep any teachers away from our party for a few golden hours. And a few members of Class B want to come to the party, of course.”

“How long have you been working through this Mina?” Toru asks in awe.

“Monoma and I started chatting about it after he ruined out last party. I went to confront him about being such an asshole, and he actually apologized immediately.”

“Now how are we going to guarantee a kiss between Shinso and Monoma?” You wonder aloud to your friends.

Mina gives her trademark toothy grin. “Leave that to me.”

You survey him, still untrusting. “We’ll think about it. But first, I want some intel.” He looks up at you curiously – he clearly wasn’t expecting this.

“So what does Class B think about the whole Sex Ed thing and these new rules? Where do you think this is all stemming from? Tell us what you know.”

“Hm.” He smirks at the three of you. “Alright.” Monoma launches into a detailed description of his day. It sounds extremely similar to your own experience - Midnight and Recovery Girl had joined Class B for a similar talk during their morning courses. Class B was just as shocked by the Sex Ed discussions and the new dating rules as Class A. According to Monoma, there are a handful of couples within the class that have been dating for a while. He wonders aloud if maybe the new dating rules are specifically targeted at them.

“People in Class B are hooking up!?” Toru gasps at the tea. “Who!?”

Apparently Shihai Kuroiro and Kinoko Komori have been dating for quite a few months, and Kosei Tsuburaba and Sen Kalibara have some kind of sexual tension situation going on where they might be dating in secret but no one is truly sure.  Oh and Setsuna dated Rin for a while, but they broke up and it was a whole dramatic thing. I think she’s started going out with Reiko now.”

You are shocked at the amount of dating drama Monoma is describing amongst Class B’s members. You instantly feel relieved, realizing that the dating ban can’t possible be about you and Shoto. It’s clearly a response to Class B’s previously uninhibited horniness.

“So are they all stopping now that the dating ban has been put into place?” Mina asks, clearly loving all of the intel.

“I think for the most part everyone is just going to continue on with whatever they’re doing. Everyone will just be a little more careful in front of the teachers and staff.” Monoma says thoughtfully. “I’m sure these rules are more about Class B than Class A – I don’t think I’ve heard anything about dating in your class?”

“Nope.” Mina provides helpfully. “No relationships that we know of at least. There’s definitely tension between certain members of our class. And we’re absolutely going to see if we can play on that tension with our Spin the Bottle pairings.”

“Mina, we can’t control who kisses who in Spin the Bottle. That’s the whole point of the game – the unpredictability of it all!” Toru says in shock.

“Oh so you’re saying you don’t want to kiss Ojiro?” Mina smirks at your friend.

“I’m not saying that.” Toru amends. “But there’s no way for us to pull the strings with this game. We’re at the mercy of the bottle!”

“Like I said earlier…leave that to me.” Mina winks.

When he’s acting like a normal person, Monoma isn’t actually all that bad. He’s actually pretty genius when it comes to strategy. Toru passes her white board over to him and he assesses your plan so far.

“What do you think?” Toru asks. Your current plan to distract Mr. Vlad King relies on a series of continuously unhinged prank calls that will divert him to different parts of the campus over the course of two hours. It’s not a great plan, but it’s the best you all have come up with in the past half hour.

“It’s a start, but I have a much better plan.” He reaches out his hand for the dry erase marker. Toru hands it over easily. He uses the palm of his hand to erase out a corner of free space. He draws two squares and marks the “Class A” and “Class B.”  He then sketches out another rectangular shape to represent the faculty and staff living quarters. “We’ll need to intercept Mr. King in between the faculty building and the student dorm buildings. I can run up to Mr. King and tell him that I have an urgent issue that I need his help with. I’ll lead him away from the dorm buildings and towards the combat training facilities.”

“What will you tell him?” Mina asks, leaning forward on her elbows.

“I’m going to say that a student from Class A went to do some solo training at night and ended up getting himself into trouble. Then I’ll point him in that direction before returning to the Class B dorms.”

“What student from Class A will be the diversion?” You wonder aloud.

Monoma’s smile sparkles in the light of Mina’s fairy lights. “Minoru Mineta.”

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

The week goes by faster than you anticipated. You get pulled back into the whirlwind of UA life – classes, tests, training, studying. It’s all so much and sometimes you feel like you can barely breathe. You’re so busy you barely have time to grab a private moment with Shoto.

Late on Wednesday night, you’re lounging in the common area with Mina, Ochaco and Tsu studying for an upcoming English exam. You’re starting to get sleepy when you receive a text:

Shoto: Hey Y/N. Up for a quick study session?

You smile, knowing that he probably means he wants to hookup. You feel pretty prepared for the upcoming test and are caught up on all of your homework…so why not?

Y/N: Absolutely. Meet in my room in 10?

Shoto: See you then.

You make some lame excuse to your friends about needing beauty rest and hustle your way to your bedroom, tossing your book bag on the floor as you make sure everything is clean and tidy. Everything is in its place and your bed is made for once. You breathe a sigh of relief – Shoto is just so put together. It would be a little embarrassing for him to see your room in a messy state.

It’s been a few days since your last tryst with Shoto and between classwork and training those days feel like they’ve passed as months. Your body is exhausted from training but you feel jittery and horny at the thought of all the things Shoto will do to you when he arrives.

A moment later, there’s a knock. You wrench open your door with nervous, bubbling energy. You pull Shoto into your room and lock the door behind him soundly.

“You weren’t followed, right?” You whisper breathlessly as you loop your arms around his neck and move to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“This isn’t a spy movie, Y/N.” He winces as you kiss him, and you grimace as you notice a delicate bruise blooming on the side of his face from a rough training class. You step away to take him in – aside from the slight bruise on his face, he looks relatively unharmed. He’s wearing a pair of navy blue sweatpants paired with a plain grey t-shirt. The short sleeves of the shirt really show off his toned hero-in-training arms. His muscles bulge gently around the stack of books he’s cradling in his arms.

“What are the books for?” You ask curiously.

He looks at you, confused. “I thought we were studying.”

Oh. You face palm. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that Shoto is so goddamn literal. You do like that about him – he tends to be mercifully straightforward and his motivations are easy to understand. He’s not cryptic like the other boys in your class - Kaminari who hides his nervousness behind flirtation or Bakugo whose true feelings are constantly masked behind aggression and death threats. No, Shoto is all softness and direct communication. You need to remember that.

“Shoto, I thought you wanted to do another kind of studying.” You waggle your eyebrows and wonder if he’ll catch on to your innuendo. He doesn’t.

“So you don’t want to prepare for the English test on Monday?” He asks, confusion coloring his voice. “I thought I was pretty clear that I wanted to study from the way I texted you.”

You facepalm.

“No, Shoto, I want to make out.” You state plainly.

“Oh. Oh!” Shoto tosses his books to the ground and grabs you by the waist, wrapping his arms around you as he dips to briefly connect your lips. He breaks the kiss and looks down at you, smiling softly. “We can make out.”

You roll your eyes playfully and reach up to cup his lovely face. “We can definitely study together later though.” You lean in and touch his lips with your own. He groans into your mouth, eager.

“I was looking for an excuse to hangout with you.” He admits in between kisses. “This is really nice, but I like spending time with you outside of physical intimacy. You know that, right?”

You smile into his lips. “I like that you’re so straightforward Shoto. But now I feel bad – do you want to actually study? I don’t want you to get a bad grade because of me.”

“No, I don’t really care about studying anymore.” He tightens his grip on your hips and turns you so that your back is against the door. He moves to kiss across your jawline, down your neck. His hands drift up to the hem of your shirt and he moves to pull it easily over your head.

“Holy fuck.” You breathe out as he presses you back into the solid wood door. His movements are gentle, but firm as he keeps you in place. He kisses down the expanse of your clavicle, letting his tongue roam smoothly across the tops of your breasts. He shifts to get down on his knees so that he can move his mouth across your stomach, kissing and licking the exposed skin there. He stops for a moment to take his phone out of his pocket and lay it on your desk before diving back into spreading kisses across your skin. Wherever his lips touch, he leaves a trail of goose bumps in his wake. He reaches up, up, up with his fingers so that he can wander the stretch of your bra–clad tits. He takes his time, smoothing fingertips over the cotton cups of your bra until he finds the places where your nipples lay underneath. He pinches lightly on the fabric and it’s enough to make you moan.

“Shh.” He whispers against your stomach, quieting you. It feels incredible, to have your body worshiped this way by Shoto. Each of his movements is so purposeful, so tender. You never want it to end.

“You promise you’re not going to fail English class due to my seductiony ways?” You ask weakly as he continues to kiss towards your belly button. Shoto laughs softly, a happy sound.

“I swear that pleasuring you isn’t going to ruin my grades. At least not yet. Can I take off your bra?” He asks quietly, bright eyes gazing up at you questioningly.

“Um, duh. Yeah you can take it off.” You say, wanting him to keep going. This pulls a grin out of Shoto’s typically serious face. The small bruise on his cheek crinkles along his smile lines. His hands slide up your body and around to your back. He fiddles with the clip to your bra for a few moments before managing to undo the clasp. He slides the straps down your shoulders, and slowly pulls the cotton fabric away from your body to reveal your perky breasts. The room is chillier than you thought, and your nipples harden as they are exposed to the crisp air conditioning. Shoto looks up at you with a look of awe.

“Incredible.” He breathes, before leaning up to take a nipple into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around your pert bud, eliciting another moan from your sweet mouth. He doesn’t bother to shush you this time, instead moving to knead at your other breast with his sure fingers while he uses his lips to suck on your nipple. He continues this for a while – using his mouth on both of your breasts and ensuring each gets equal attention. You bite your lip and try to keep quiet, running your fingers through his two toned hair and nodding encouragingly when he does something you like.

By the time he gets to his feet so he can kiss you on the mouth once more, you’re absolutely soaking wet. There’s a spark between your legs that you’re having a hard time ignoring. You need him in the absolute worst way.

“Sit in my desk chair.” You whine, pushing lightly at his chest so you can get away from the door.

“Hmm?” He says, clearly not listening. His eyes are hazy with desire as he looks at you.

“The chair.” You point. “Sit down.” He doesn’t ask any questions or argue, he walks over to the chair and takes a seat.

“Thank God.” You say as you walk over to him, tossing a leg over his lap so you can straddle him. You brace your hands on either side of Shoto, gripping the back of the chair as you make yourself comfortable. You lean down and capture his lips in a scorching kiss as you sit down, cowgirl style, on his lap. He’s so deliciously hard beneath you, and you’re thankfully both wearing sweatpants so the friction between you is buttery and smooth as you find the perfect angle to grind your pussy against him.

“Y’N.” Shoto groans out in surprise, there’s no way he could have anticipated this. He literally thought you two were going to study tonight. You grin and move your hips fluidly, grinding against his fat cock again. You’d do anything to satisfy the need that’s building up in your core.

“Shoto…Shoto put your hands on my - ” You don’t even need to finish your sentence, Shoto hears you loud and clear. He reaches for your breasts and plays with your nipples as you dry hump him on your desk chair.

“Ah! Yes!” You manage to say between gritted teeth. “Shoto, I think I’m gonna…”

He presses his lips to your own, essentially shutting you up as you bounce on his lap, grinding your way to an orgasm. He slides his hands down to your hips and helps guide your movements, shifting a bit beneath you. The new position presses the tip of his hard cock against your clit the next time your hips roll. Its wonderful and delightful and just the thing that pushes you over the edge. The orgasm hits you in a wave and you break away from Shoto’s lips so you can gasp in pleasure as you ride it out. Shoto is smiling at you, so open and genuine. He’s enjoying watching you get off – it shows on his face and in the way his cock twitches against you beneath a few layers of clothing.

When you finally come down from your high, you pull him into a hug and slump against his shoulder.

“Fuuuuck, Shoto.” You whisper, your breath slowing down. “That felt so good.” He brings his hand up slowly and traces an icy finger down your sweaty back. You feel your muscles relax beneath his touch.

“You’re incredible, Y/N. Thank you for that.” He says, voice tinged with something akin to awe.

You stifle a laugh. “You’re thanking me for cumming?”

“Thank you for being comfortable enough with me to do that. It means a lot.”

“Shoto, you are literally the sweetest.” You press a kiss to his soft cheek before slowly removing yourself from his lap. “Dang, between this morning’s practice and what we did just now…I am sore.” You find your shirt on the floor and throw it back on over your bare chest. You scoop up your bra from the floor and toss it in the hamper.

“Maybe I can help.” Shoto stands up from the chair and strolls over to your bed, hoisting himself up onto the tall mattress before beckoning you to join him.

“You’ve already helped me so much tonight.” You say, fluttering your lashes up at him until he blushes.

“Just get up here.” He pulls you up onto the mattress and into his lap so that your back is against his chest. You can feel he’s still a bit hard beneath your butt, but he seems to be ignoring his boner in favor of taking care of you. A true gentleman – Kirishima would be impressed.

“Where are you sore?” He asks, resting a hand on your waist.

“My lower back.” You point to the spot. Shoto lifts up your shirt and covers the sore muscles with his strong left hand. He spreads his fingers wide, covering as much surface area as possible before activating his quirk. His left hand slowly warms up like a hot compress. You feel his palm grow steadily warmer and you feel instant relief flood through your back, making you sleepy and comfortable.

“Shoto, this is heaven.” You praise, leaning your head back against his chest and letting your eyelids drop. He kisses the top of your head.

“Good. I just want to make you feel good Y/N.” He lets you relax into his hand and doze for a bit. You’re comfortable and happy and feeling very cared for. The silence is comfortable, but after a few minutes Shoto starts to hum an old 90s song and the rhythm of it lulls you into a true sleep.

An annoying buzzing sound wakes you. Over on your desk, your phone is buzzing and blinking incessantly – someone is trying really hard to get ahold of you. You ignore it, trying to focus all of your attention on the way that Shoto’s right hand is carding through your hair.

“Mmm.” You hum with pleasure as he drags delicate fingertips through your scalp. Your phone continues to buzz. You’re annoyed and can’t enjoy yourself properly. You reach out and stop Shoto’s hand before it can go any further. “I should really check that.”

You get to your feet and adjust your sweatpants, secretly cursing whoever is trying to get ahold of you. You open up your phone and the screen reads “Mina Ashido: 4 missed calls.” Huh? You quickly hit redial. The phone barely rings once before Mina is squealing into the phone.

“Mr. Aizawa is doing a curfew checks! Make sure you’re in your room!” She all but shouts into the phone.

“What!?”

“It’s only 10:05 and he gave Toru and I detention for being out in the common area past curfew! He said he’s doing bed checks and knocking on doors next. Are you in your room!?”

“OMG!” You hang up on Mina and frantically wave your arms at Shoto.

“Aizawa is doing bed checks! You need to get to your room now!”

Shoto’s eyes widen and he quickly scoops up his English books from the floor. You push him towards the exit in a panic. You wrench the door open and quickly look up and down the hallway – it’s mercifully empty. Mr. Aizawa clearly hasn’t gotten to this floor yet.

“Okay, it’s all clear – go, go, go!” You push Shoto from the room bodily, his eyes still large and overwhelmed as he goes.

“But wait, I didn’t get to kiss you goodbye - ”

“This is life or death Shoto! Get out of here!” You push him in the direction of the staircase and quickly shut your door behind him. You hear his footsteps recede down the hallway and breathe a sigh of relief.

You call Mina back in a hurry. “Hey, sorry I hung up! I was out in the hall and had to make a beeline to my room before Aizawa made an appearance. He hasn’t been up to my dorm yet.”

“Thank goodness I got ahold of you before you got caught after hours! Lucky timing.” Mina sighs. “Now Toru and I need to spend tomorrow evening cleaning the classroom since we ‘broke curfew.’ This is bogus!”

“Wait that sucks.” You look in your mirror and fix your static hair as you chat. Suddenly, you have an idea. “I can come and help you, though. We can discuss our master plan while we clean!”

Mina laughs. “That would make it more fun! You’re such a good friend Y/N. I can always trust you to make things a little brighter.” You feel a knot form in your stomach at these words – Mina still has no idea about you and Todoroki. The magnitude of this secret weighs heavily in your heart. You bite your lip with anxiety. Should you tell her? She majorly saved your butt with that warning call…

“You too, Mina. You’re the best.” You say. You can’t seem to find the words to explain your Shoto situation to her, so you opt not to tell her. Your stomach continues to turn over in guilty knots. You hear hard footsteps coming up the hall, followed by the sound of distant knocking. “Oh my goodness I think Mr. Aizawa just made it to this floor. I’d better go.”

“Bye, girl! Text me!” Mina hangs up, leaving you to finish adjusting your appearance in the mirror. You make yourself presentable, pulling your hair up into a clean ponytail and adjusting your clothes to look less rumpled. A moment later, there’s a hard knock on the door.

You take a deep breath to center yourself and try not to look super ultra guilty when you open the door. Your teacher stands looming in the doorway, his hero costume looking a bit worse for wear. He must have just come back from patrol. He looks world weary and exhausted, the deep shadows under his eyes look worse than usual. His eyes are bloodshot – a typical side effect of his quirk.

“Oh, hi Mr. Aizawa. Is everything alright?” You ask brightly.

He glares down at you, but not unkindly. With his reddened eyes, he just tends to glare.

“Just doing a random check to make sure everyone’s sticking to curfew.” He says, voice gravely. “I’m surprised you weren’t in the common room with Ashido and Hagakure, you’re usually inseparable.”

You blink nervously at this – is he onto you or are you just being paranoid?

“Yeah I wanted to get some quiet reading done tonight. And you know how they are…definitely not quiet.” That’s the dumbest thing you’ve said all day, but for some reason Aizawa buys it.

“Yeah you kids are definitely one of the rowdier classes I’ve had over the years.” His sour look softens into an almost-smile. “Please go to bed at a reasonable time – we have a lot of training this week.”

“Will do!” You chirp out – you can’t believe you’re actually getting away from this situation unscathed.

He moves on to the next room and mutters quietly, almost to himself - “I caught Todoroki out of his dorm, too. We’re going to need to review the definition of “curfew” in homeroom class tomorrow.” He gives you a vague wave and you shut the door quickly, breathless. So Shoto didn’t make it to his room – from the sound of it, he ran right into Aizawa on the stairs.

You reach for your phone to text Shoto about the situation, typing out a quick “You got caught!?” accompanied by some shocked emoji faces. You hit send, and are surprised when you hear a buzzing noise coming from the direction of your bed – in his haste to escape your room, Shoto left his phone on your pillow.

“Aw, crap.” You scoop up the phone in its plain grey case and see your own text flash against the screen. You place it on your nightstand and resolve to discreetly give it to Shoto before class the next morning. Poor Shoto – caught for breaking curfew. You feel bad knowing that you’re the reason he likely has detention with Toru and Mina.

You get ready for bed - pulling on your comfiest pajamas and smoothing moisturizer across the planes of your face. You’re exhausted and still basking in the afterglow of your little hookup with Shoto. It would be so nice if he were here with you right now to cuddle. You wish you could run your fingers through his soft hair and watch him fall asleep in your arms again. Despite his absolute insane skills in combat training, Shoto is such a sweet quiet soul. You want to praise him for his sweetness, and help him realize that there are so many wonderful pieces of him aside from his powerful quirk.

You settle into bed and get comfy amongst your plushies, settling in for a good night’s rest. Your alarm is already scheduled for the next morning, but you double check that it’s set anyway. You take a moment to scroll through Instagram and are startled when Shoto’s phone starts to buzz on your night table. You scoop it up out of habit and read the screen. It’s a text from YaMomo.

Momo: “Hey Shoto, you left your sweatshirt in my dorm room yesterday evening. Come pick it up tomorrow? Good night.”

Um…WTF!?

End of Chapter.

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

OMG wowwww I have been working on this update for a while! I have been writing Part 4 + 5 simultaneously, so you won't need to wait that long for the next update to drop! Part 5 is going to be *even more steamy.* In the next part, our character and her friends throw a big party and the class participates in a high stakes game of ~spin the bottle.~ I think you're all going to really enjoy it (and all of the ensuing drama, ofc!).

Thanks so much for reading and for your continued support on this + other stories! I hope that this was worth the wait. ☺️ Feel free to check out my other spicy works on The Master List pinned to the top of my blog!

❄️🔥THE EXCLUSIVE ICYTHOT TAG LIST🔥❄️

Oh and YEAH!! I started a tag list - if you’re interested in being on my tag list for Shoto's First Kiss chapters, please let me know! This tag list will hence forth be known as the "IcyThots" (get it...like IcyHot but instead we are all Thots for Shoto!? Heehehehe). If you commented enthusiastically on the past chapters I added you to the tag list - let me know if you want to be removed and I will absolutely take you off! I'm still new to this whole thing, so appreciate your patience!

XoXo, Red Riot Unbreakable Heart ❤️

❄️🔥THE ICYTHOTS🔥❄️

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[punkshort]

Swept Away | Chapter 4: Tropical Heat

Pairing: sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: The first day on Glenn's yacht is much more dramatic than you originally expect.

Chapter Warnings: language, slow burn, sugar daddy/baby vibes, food and alcohol consumption, intoxication, reader gets drunk and snippy, mentions of past infidelity, flirting, sexual tension, jealousy, one tiny daddy reference, nausea/vomiting, joel gets mean but he makes up for it (he sucks at feelings)

WC: 8.5K

Series Masterlist

"I'm so excited for tomorrow. Glenn's yacht is supposed to be massive. Like, full crew, multiple levels. The type you'd usually charter but he actually owns it." Zoe sighed dreamily next to you at the hotel salon. You were listening but your eyes were pinned on your nails, watching as the technician managed to make your hands look like they were out of a catalogue in less than an hour.

"Yeah, that - it sounds really cool," you replied. "Should be fun. Joel said there's some tiny islands we might check out or something."

Zoe nodded excitedly. "Zach said there's one called Monu Island. We're supposed to have dinner there the first night."

"Dinner? How?" you asked. She looked at you like you had two heads.

"The crew brings the stuff to shore for us and cooks?" she said as if she were explaining how to ride a bike. Shit. You probably should have known something like that if you were pretending to be in the upper, upper class.

"Oh, yeah, I knew that," you said with a nervous laugh, "I meant how are they going to get us off that yacht? The more I keep hearing about it, the harder it's going to be to pull me away from it."

Zoe giggled and you inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.

"Maybe you can convince Joel buy one for yourselves. He can certainly afford it," she told you with a wink.

"Yeah, and Zach can't?"

She shrugged, smile still stretched across her face but you could see something shifting in her eyes. "Can I tell you something?"

You nodded and leaned a little closer.

"I don't think Zach's doing very well. Business-wise."

Your eyes widened, encouraging her to continue.

"I don't know for sure, but I have overheard a few conversations and I get the feeling if he doesn't win this bid, his hotel chain is done for."

"Oh, no," you breathed, brows crinkling with concern. "Zoe, I'm so sorry."

She gave you a confused look but quickly recovered. "Oh, thanks. It's no big deal, you know. I'll be just fine."

What did that mean? Zoe would be just fine if Zach went bankrupt? How?

You wanted to press her further but you could tell the door closed. She was looking down at her freshly manicured nails with a huge smile then held them up to your face and wiggled them around.

"What do you think?"

She had picked a white nail polish with a faint hint of sparkle. The color did look very nice against her tanned skin and you told her so right when your technician released your hands, announcing you were all set. Pulling your fingers from the blue light, you admired them up close.

"Alright, I'll admit it. I questioned your color choice before but damn, that looks so pretty on you," Zoe said enviously as she examined your hot pink nails with a glitter top coat.

"Thanks," you gushed, hardly able to tear your eyes away after you left the salon and headed for the elevators. You could count on one hand how many times you ever got your nails done in the past and it was always for a special occasion: prom, a wedding... maybe once when someone got you a gift certificate for Christmas. It felt like such a treat and it gave you a nice little confidence boost.

You waved to Zoe when she got off on her floor, vowing to see each other in the morning bright and early on the dock, then rode the elevator the rest of the way to your floor.

It was difficult to contain your excitement when you entered the room, but you remained quiet because you heard Joel's voice carrying from the living room. He had someone on speaker who was discussing budgets and employee turnover so you snuck past him and headed towards your room to pack.

How much does one person need for two days? Not a lot, probably. But you weren't very clear on the dress code. Was this going to be casual? You already noticed if Glenn organizes the parties, the vibe is much more relaxed but Mary tends to make it a little more formal when she handles things.

After packing a swimsuit, two coverups, one set of pajamas (which you agonized over when you remembered you would be sharing a bed with Joel), and three different options for daytime wear, you went back out into the living room to see if Joel would know what you should pack for the evenings.

"Joel?" you asked softly when you spotted him sitting quietly on the couch with his eyes closed. He tilted his head to the side and slowly opened his eyes. "Are you okay?" you asked. He nodded and stood with a groan.

"Just tired," he said right when his laptop chirped with two new emails. He began to walk towards the table but you were closer. You bravely closed his laptop with two fingers and he froze.

"C'mon, what're you doin'?" he asked, taking another step, but you shook your head and leaned forward, resting your weight on the arm that was holding his computer closed.

"You need to take a break," you told him firmly. He scowled and crossed his arms.

"I'll be takin' a break when we're on the damn yacht."

"Taking a break on the weekend is a given. You work around the clock, Joel, you need to slow down."

"I don't got time for this," he told you with a shake of his head. "I'm busy, I got a company to run."

"Well that's just too bad because I have dresses to try on and I need help picking ones to pack," you told him just as sternly. His eyes flickered up to yours and you could practically see the gears in his head turning. "I think that's far more important than some emails, don't you think?"

His mouth twitched and you could see his face soften and you knew you had him.

"Fine. Ten minutes," he relented. You grinned and skipped off to your room, and only when your back was turned did he allow himself to smile.

Joel sat patiently on your bed while you tried on the handful of dresses you grabbed and put in the bathroom, waltzing back into your room every few minutes with a new one to show him.

"Darlin', I already told you. You look good in all of these."

"Yeah, but which ones are your favorites?" you pressed, doing a little twirl so he could see the back of the pink dress you were currently wearing. "And what will we be doing? Like, how formal are these evenings going to be?"

He shook his head, his eyes glued to the curve of your back when you spun around again. "Not that formal. One night we'll be on the beach, the other night just on the deck."

You nodded and tapped your chin with your finger. Any of the dresses you had would do now that he told you it wasn't that formal, but you were pushing twenty minutes of no laptop or cell phone useage and you really wanted him to take a longer break from work, so you had an idea.

"Okay, just one more. I'll be right back," you told him, scurrying off to the bathroom to slip into a deep purple dress that just so happened to be the shortest one in the bunch by a mile. You weren't sure what Joel's assistant was thinking buying you something so short and tight. When you looked in the mirror, the fabric clung to your curves, leaving very little to the imagination with only two thin spaghetti straps to hold it up.

Obviously it was too inappropriate to wear on the yacht, but that didn't stop you from taking a deep, nervous breath and strolling back into your bedroom with what you hoped was an air of innocence.

He was leaning back on his elbows when you walked in, eyes drifting around your room and taking note of the items you kept on your nightstand, but when he saw what you were wearing he straightened right up.

"What do you think?" you asked as you twirled, but that time you made sure to take it slow.

"It's, uh..." his throat when dry when he saw how perfectly the dress hugged your ass and he had to clear his throat. "Nice," he finally managed to say. You fought back a smirk when you heard the strain in his voice.

"Yeah?" you asked, looking down at the dress. "I don't know, the material is a little rough."

Joel swallowed when you ran your hands slowly down the fabric, your palms traversing over your soft curves, making his fingers twitch.

As if you read his mind, you looked back up at him with a little pout and asked, "you wanna feel?"

Without hesitation, he spread his knees and beckoned you over with two fingers. You grinned and stepped forward, stopping when you stood between his legs, his mouth mere inches away from your stomach.

You could feel his hot breath through the dress and you had to suppress a tingle down your spine, but when he lifted his hands to cup the backs of your bare thighs, you couldn't hide your reaction that time. You made a little noise in the back of your throat when his fingers squeezed your legs and he looked up at you, eyes so dark and filled with lust that it took your breath away.

"This okay?"

"Mhmm," you hummed, your hands coming up to his shoulders so you could balance yourself. His fingers inched up your legs slowly, tentatively exploring without giving into his deepest desires. But fuck... if he wanted to, you would have let him.

He slid his hands up the sides of your thighs, his fingers catching a bit on the hem of your dress before reaching your hips. He caressed the material there with both hands, each of you still pretending as if the fabric of the dress was any concern.

"See what I mean?" you whispered. Slowly, he nodded, but his eyes remained pinned on your body, his gaze drinking in every inch of you, committing you to memory.

"Fuck, you look good," he murmured as if it pained him, letting the facade slip for a moment. Your heart fluttered in your chest and you began to play with the curls on the back of his head. He tilted his chin to look up at you, his lips parted and his cheeks a little flushed. Nothing else had happened since that afternoon in the ocean when he kissed you other than leaving you completely confused about the nature of your relationship. But in that moment, you couldn't care less. All you wanted was to feel his lips on yours again, to feel that spark of electricity over your skin, so you leaned down a fraction, your gaze flicking from his eyes to his lips, making your intention crystal clear.

Just as you were about to brush your lips against his, he pulled his head away and dropped his hands. Immediately, you straightened back up, embarrassment warming your face while you tried to figure out what you did wrong.

"We can't," was all he said, eyes drifting to look everywhere except at you. You nodded and quickly stepped back, shame coursing through your veins.

"I'm sorry," you said, your voice cracking a bit. You cleared your throat and repeated yourself then hurried out of the room to get changed.

Joel called your name, asking you to come back, but you were too ashamed. Instead, you slipped back into the bathroom and practically ripped the purple dress off out of anger, vowing to tuck it way back into the depths of your closet so you wouldn't have to look at it the entire rest of the trip.

By the following morning, you forced yourself to brush off the awkwardness with Joel from the day before. You had three more weeks to spend with him pretending to be his fianceé and you refused to let one uncomfortable situation dictate the rest of your time there. So you plastered on a big smile for him the next morning when you exited your room with your bags in each hand. You could tell he wasn't sure how to react. He tiptoed lightly around you, making sure he didn't even accidentally touch you as you both moved around the hotel room collecting everything you would need.

In the elevator ride down to the lobby, he tried to bring it up but you cut him off before he could even finish his sentence.

"Did you remember your seasick medication?"

He floundered for a moment, scanning your face for any sign of bitterness, but he found none. If you wanted to pretend it never happened, that was fine by him.

"Yeah," he finally said, and you nodded before turning to stare straight ahead at the closed elevator doors.

He didn't try to mention it again.

When you arrived at the dock with the sun just beginning to peek over the water, casting the ocean in a beautiful golden hue, you felt your mood instantly improve. You were in fucking paradise and nothing was going to ruin that for you.

The crew was loading up your belongings and you were chatting with Glenn and Mary about how excited you were when Glenn's phone pinged in his hand.

He tugged his glasses out of his shirt pocket so he could read the text and he let out a disappointed groan.

"Ian's got food poisoning, Harry says," he told the three of you, "they can't make it. That's a damn shame."

"Oh, that's terrible. I hope it's not too serious," Mary said sympathetically.

You heard the telltale sound of heels tapping on the wooden planks behind you and you turned around to see the rest of the couples, along with Trevor and Brooks, arriving. The crew hurried past to assist with their bags and for the first time all day, Joel wrapped an arm around your waist. Your muscles stiffened at first and he felt it. Guilt washed over him before he cleared his throat and lifted his other hand in greeting. Zoe spotted you and waved excitedly, her energy just as infectious in the early morning hours.

When you spotted Tammy a few yards behind Zoe, your smile faltered a bit. You still hadn't brought up what you learned to Joel. Did you even have a right to know about his past with Tammy? You thought you did given how it could blow your cover, but maybe it was just gossip.

Still, it got under your skin.

When Zoe greeted you with a hug, you caught the look of distaste Tammy shot to Lynne before turning her head to gaze out over the ocean. It couldn't just be in your head at this point. There was definitely something going on with these women that you were not privy to yet.

Joel took your hand and lead you aboard the yacht, once again feeling the discomfort at his touch radiating off you.

He handled everything all wrong, he knew that almost immediately. It was all his fault. He was weak that day in the ocean and couldn't stop himself from kissing you, and now you were confused and hurt, but there was a reason he didn't want a traditional sugar baby agreement. He needed to keep his eye on the prize and stay focused, not standing there pretending to admire the lavish sitting room Glenn was showing everyone while wondering if you were wearing the lingerie he purchased for you.

How the hell did you manage to weave your way into his psyche so fast?

After the tour of the yacht, which was luxurious and had three levels, you were shown your private rooms, all of which included your own bathroom and a window so you could admire the sea from bed.

Joel ticked his jaw to the side as he looked around while you began to unpack a few of your things.

"I can sleep on the floor," he said. Your back was to him but he saw your hands freeze inside your bag before you took a deep breath and continued to pull out your toiletries.

"Don't be ridiculous. We can manage two nights in the same bed."

Even though you couldn't see him, he nodded anyway. He should just say it. Say he's sorry. Sorry for all of it. Sorry for leading you on, sorry for hurting your feelings, sorry for staring at your legs and wondering what they would feel like wrapped around his head.

The guests slowly made their way into the indoor sitting area once they settled in. If there wasn't an entire wall made of glass so you could look out the back of the yacht, you would have thought you were in another mansion. The carpet was plush and white under your feet. When you saw how pristine it was, you almost wanted to ask if you should take your sandals off, but instead you took Joel's lead and left them on.

There were three long, white couches that formed a U shape around a large, cherry wood coffee table. Above your heads the ceiling was dotted and lined with soft lights, giving the whole room a very warm and inviting glow. Abstract art hung on the walls but there wasn't much space: any wall that bordered the sea was made of glass. And across from the couches, built up against an interior wall was a bar that appeared to be stocked with every liquor and mixer known to man.

The crew had poured glasses of champagne and mimosas and left them on the bar. They were standing at attention against the wall near the kitchen, waiting to jump into action if need be.

Joel picked up two mimosas and handed you one. You nearly declined when you noted the early hour but decided to take it anyway with a quiet thanks.

"Meant to tell you, I like your nails," Joel said, pointing to your fingers wrapped around your glass. You gave him a small smile before looking back down at your glittery, hot pink nails.

"Thanks," you said, wishing you felt as excited about them as you were yesterday.

Glenn clapped his hands loudly, commanding the attention of the room. He let everyone know breakfast would be served on the dining room on the deck in ten minutes and encouraged people to grab a drink before heading out.

The moment the glass doors were opened, your senses were overcome with fresh, sea-salt air and an occasional fine mist that was being vented above the partially enclosed area.

Everyone found a seat around the square table that was already set with beautiful white plates trimmed in gold with matching bowls and mugs. When the crew began to place trays of fruit, baked goods, meats, eggs, and yogurt on the table, you leaned into Joel and tapped his shoulder.

"Did you take your medicine?" you whispered.

He smiled and put his glass down so he could fish the bottle of pills from his pocket.

"Thank you. That woulda been ugly," he joked, making you giggle before reaching for the tray of fruit. His chest warmed at the sound, pleased to see you smiling again but damn near giddy that he was the one to make you laugh.

You weren't terribly hungry but you nibbled at some fruit and yogurt, knowing you should at least try to eat something if you were expected to keep up with the way the group drank.

After about an hour at the table where you nursed the same mimosa Joel had given you earlier, Glenn stood up and suggested the men go to the top floor for cigars and poker.

"Looks like it's just us, ladies," Mary said gleefully when all the men began to place their cloth napkins on the table and, collecting their own drinks, stood to follow Glenn up the stairs.

"You good?" Joel asked softly before he left. You quickly nodded and shooed him off. You were still feeling rather vulnerable from being shot down the day before but you could feel yourself coming around. Maybe some distance and distraction would help.

If only you knew what the day had in store.

By noon the sun was blazing, the heat seared your skin as you laid out on your lounge chair with the other women. You could smell the faint hint of cigar smoke and hear the laughter from the men up above, but you couldn't see them from where you were. Occasionally you would hear Joel's voice, his southern twang becoming deeper and louder the more he drank and you found yourself smiling.

You were at least three drinks deep and you felt completely relaxed. All your concerns drifted away, getting twisted in the breeze and floating over the water. You even managed to find Tammy somewhat tolerable as you listened to her tell the group about her teenage son and a girl he was dating.

Maybe Zoe was wrong. Maybe it was just a rumor. Tammy seemed to be happy and fulfilled. She had what appeared to be a very strong marriage with Scott and they had two boys. By all accounts, they appeared to be a very happy family.

"I think I'm gonna take a break in the shade," Zoe announced, fanning herself while she picked up her things.

"Okay, dear. There should be chilled bottles of water out but if not, just ask the bartender. He can get you whatever you need," Mary told her while she adjusted her enormous sun hat.

"I think I'll join you," you said, suddenly feeling like your mouth was coated in sand. You couldn't even remember drinking any water since the hotel that morning.

The three other women waved politely when you stood and followed Zoe back inside where the air conditioning embraced you like an old friend.

"Oh, god, that feels nice," you groaned. The room was empty except for one bartender who was taking stock of the liquor with a clipboard. He quickly set it aside when Zoe approached and asked for two waters. You picked a couch and set your things down next to you with a sigh, then thanked Zoe when she handed you a frosted glass bottle of water.

Both of you practically chugged your respective drinks in under a minute, then giggled when you realized how crazy you must have looked.

"We gotta pace ourselves," Zoe said with a grin and a shake of her head. "It's gonna be a long night. Zach said we aren't supposed to reach the island til six, and with the time it will take for the crew to set up and cook, we'll be eating dinner late."

"That means we'll be getting back here even later," you said, finishing her thought.

She nodded and tossed her hair over her shoulder, her eyes a little glassy and her cheeks a little pink, either from the sun or alcohol or both. But based on the way she couldn't stop laughing at the smallest thing, you suspected alcohol was the bigger reason. When she glanced at you and erupted into a fit of giggles again without having to say a word, you knew for sure she was a little past tipsy.

"What?" you laughed, her silly mood too contagious to resist.

"Nothing, nothing," she said with a wave, then seemed to think about it for a second before giving you a mischievous grin and leaned forward, cupping her hand around her mouth in an attempt to muffle her voice, but it didn't work.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

You shrugged and nodded. "Sure."

She giggled again, slapping her palm over her mouth and tucking her chin against her chest. You frowned and laughed at how ridiculous she was acting and wondered what on earth she was about to say.

She cupped her hand over her mouth again and whispered loudly, "how is Joel in bed?"

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise at her question. Instantly, images and daydreams of what you thought Joel would be like in bed flashed across your mind. What the weight of his body would feel like pressed against yours, pushing you into the mattress. How his lips would feel wrapped around your nipple, his teeth teasing and pinching your skin. Would he kiss you slow and deep or passionate and needy? Would he groan your name when he buried his cock deep inside you? What was his favorite position?

All these things and more you had found yourself wondering more times than you could count since a few days ago in the ocean. He had completely taken over your mind to the point where you could hardly remember the girl you were when you first met, sitting in his office ready to storm out because of his abrupt and seemingly unpleasant nature.

You cleared your throat as you bought some time to scrounge up a lie.

"He's... good. Really good," you added. She nodded excitedly and rolled her wrist, urging you to continue. "He's attentive and... he doesn't rush." You could feel your cheeks heating up when you realized you were just telling her what you wished he was like, what you wished any of the men you had been with were like, only to always fall short in some way or another. "I'm not saying he can't be-" you glanced over your shoulder before lowering your voice, "rougher, because he can. There's been times I can hardly move after," you giggled and she gasped enthusiastically. "But he's always so sweet when we're done. He takes such good care of me, gets me whatever I need, tells me how beautiful I am." You swallowed, feeling only slightly pathetic at how you were turning yourself on with your own lies.

"How about Zach? What's he like?" you asked, changing the subject. Her face fell and she waved you off before taking another sip of water.

"Girl, c'mon, you know the answer to that."

Now it was your turn to gasp but the corners of your mouth twitched into a playful smile.

"What do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes at you and sighed. "You've seen him. He's not hiding anything spectacular, I promise you that."

Zach was significantly older than Zoe. Their age difference especially showed when he stood after sitting for a while, groaning deeply and usually needing a hand to steady himself, or when his phone alarm went off at various times during the day, volume practically maxed out, reminding him to take some pill. But you never got the impression Zoe was unhappy until now.

"So why are you with him?" you asked. Of course, you had to assume his money had something to do with it, but her answer was still not what you expected.

"Can you keep a secret?" she asked conspiratorially. You nodded and leaned forward. Zoe glanced around to make sure nobody else snuck into the massive sitting room before she whispered, "I'm a sugar baby."

"Y-you're... what?" you asked, your voice wavering. Fuck, you really wished you didn't have that last mojito. You were trying to keep your cool but your vision was swimming and your mind was buzzing.

"I think Tammy and Lynne suspect something. I think that's why they don't like me," she said, leaning back and gazing out to the ocean. "Nobody knows for sure, you can't say a word," she said, fear suddenly gripping her. "If Glenn found out, it would be over for Zach. Glenn holds way too much weight on family shit. He already isn't thrilled with our age difference," she sighed, gazing down at her freshly manicured nails. "But between you and me, I hope he doesn't get this land. He wouldn't be able to afford me anymore. Like, I want what's best for him and I want him to be happy, but this relationship is running its course, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah," you breathed, "wow, I had no idea."

She shrugged and picked up her phone. "It's really not a bad gig, but it would be a hell of a lot better if the guys looked like Joel instead of Zach," she giggled.

You laughed softly and took another sip of your water, your mind reeling. The pressure to pull off this little stint was mounting. Joel wasn't the only one who noticed Glenn was a man with family values and tried to do the exact same thing, and now more than ever Joel's alleged affair with Tammy seemed like a huge loose end that could jeopardize your whole lie.

Your nerves got the best of you. Looking back on it, you should have realized that before having two more drinks with lunch, but Zoe's bombshell left you rattled and you got carried away.

Around four in the afternoon, the men returned from the upper deck with their skin pink and their shirts a little damp from sweat, but they were all smiles when they stepped out onto the deck to find their partners with the exception of Glenn's sons, who came by themselves.

Joel didn't notice at first how tipsy you were because you did your best to hide behind a pair of sunglasses and a large hat. He sat down on the lounge chair near yours, looking like he had a couple drinks himself but not nearly as many as you. He appeared relaxed and at ease, no doubt pleased by whatever progress he made with Glenn in the past few hours.

"How's everythin' goin' down here?" he asked, his eyes scanning around the crowd of people who were beginning to mingle.

"Good," you said, "I found out some very interesting information that-" you hiccupped and covered your mouth, "that you would find interesting."

He raised an eyebrow at you and smirked. "Interesting information that I would find interesting?"

"Mhmm," you said, nodding vigorously this time. "I will tell you later," you added, unnecessarily enunciating each word, "when we're alone," you whispered, not realizing your voice was still rather loud. It didn't matter anyway, nobody could overhear you when the guests were all breaking up into groups and talking over each other, but still.

He grinned and glanced around the deck, "Alright, then," he replied. He was about to say more when his eyes landed on someone over your shoulder and he stiffened. You were too slow on the uptake to see what Tammy was mouthing to him, but when he subtly nodded and stood up, you glanced behind you to see her walking discreetly into the yacht, leaving her clueless husband behind.

"I'll be right back," he said to you, and before you could say anything to stop him, he strolled off in her wake, leaving you all alone.

You could blame the alcohol and pretend you weren't jealous, but you were absolutely fuming. Zoe had to be right. How could he be so careless? Did he really think nobody would notice? How could he not tell you about his history with Tammy when it could all blow up in your faces?

Then something occurred to you that made your stomach roll and you had to take a few deep breaths to fight back the wave of nausea.

What if they were still having an affair?

Is that why he didn't want to take things further with you? We can't, he had said. Was he fucking another man's wife this entire time?

You never felt so stupid in your life. Of course, that's what it was. No wonder he put a clause in your contract stating that sex was not to be part of the agreement. How fucking pathetic of him to act so faithful to another man's wife.

What if he was fucking her right now?

You stood up too quickly and lost your balance, but fortunately an arm shot out to steady you.

"Hey, you okay?"

You glanced up over your sunglasses to find Brooks, one of Glenn's sons, standing there with his hand wrapped around your arm looking concerned.

Quickly, you shook your head and forced a smile. "Yeah, the sun got to me, I think," you told him, then after another moment you realized his grip around your bicep hadn't loosened. Your eyes slowly drifted down to his hand and you gave your arm a little tug. Finally, he released you and you gave him a polite chuckle before fixing your cover up so you would feel less exposed in your bikini under his gaze.

"My dad says we should be reaching the island soon," he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his board shorts. They were neon blue and hung low on his hips. Almost too low, as if he were trying to draw your attention to it.

"Yeah, it sounds great. Should be fun," you mumbled, glancing around the deck, still not finding Joel or Tammy.

"Ever been here before?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. You shook your head.

"To Fiji? No," you answered.

"I'm surprised. It's a pretty common vacation spot for people in Joel's circle," Brooks said. If you were a little less distracted you might have picked up on the fact that he said Joel's circle and not your circle, but you didn't. You were too fixated on your anger and you were fueled by one too many drinks.

"Yeah - would you excuse me? I need to use the restroom," you said, gathering your things in your arms.

"Sure thing," he said, taking a step back so you could brush past him. "See you at dinner."

You gave him what you hoped was a polite wave before storming towards the glass doors that led into the yacht, but just when you were a few feet away, the door swung open and Tammy stepped out. It could have been your paranoia, but you thought she had a little smirk on her face when she passed by you and after that, all you saw was red.

You breezed through the sitting room. The only other people around were two servers who were quietly packing up dishware to take to the beach, then Joel suddenly appeared in the entryway that led back to your room wearing a different shirt than before and you clenched your teeth.

"Hey, was just comin' to get you," he said, not yet picking up on your anger. "You should get ready for dinner, we'll be there soon."

You narrowed your eyes at him and crossed your arms, uncaring that you could be overheard when you spat, "whatever you say, daddy," your tone clipped and dripping with disdain.

The muscles in his jaw twitched and his nostrils flared when he finally sensed your energy. He looked up, catching the eye of one of the crew members, who quickly averted his gaze and pretended not to have overheard what you said, then grabbed your arm.

You had the presence of mind not to fight him and cause a scene, but once he hauled you halfway down the hallway towards some privacy, you wrenched your arm out of his hold.

"The hell's the matter with you?" he seethed. "Are you fuckin' drunk?"

You rolled your shoulder, trying to fix your coverup that slipped down your arm while staring daggers at him.

"What's the matter with me?" you repeated, "what about you? What are you doing? Do you really think nobody sees what's going on?"

He furrowed his brow in confusion and made a face. "What are you talkin' 'bout?"

You took a menacing step forward and lowered your voice. "I'm talking about Tammy, Joel."

His eyes flashed with something you couldn't identify and you hardly had a chance to react before he grabbed your arm again and practically dragged you the rest of the way down the hall towards your room. Once you were safely inside, he slammed the door behind him and stalked over to you, making you stumble backwards in surprise.

"What the hell do you know 'bout that?"

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, trying to push down the wave of envy that bubbled up. "So it is true."

"Answer my fuckin' question," he growled, his eyes steely and his breath coming in quick. You shrugged and tried your best not to look nervous while being the target of his wrath.

"That you're having an affair," you said simply.

He stared down at you for what felt like hours before he exhaled and stepped back. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head before murmuring, "who told you?"

"Zoe," you sneered, taking one step backwards so you could rest your head against the wall. "Guess that means Zach knows, too."

"Fuck," he grumbled, then dragged his palms down his face in agony. "Fuck!" he said again, but shouted it that time and pounded his fist on top of a dresser.

You watched him nervously as he paced around the room, his anger beginning to sober you up a bit.

"You should have told me," you snapped. He swiveled around to look at you, his jaw so tight he could have cracked a tooth. "You could have ruined this entire thing but you're lucky I was quick on my feet and covered for you."

"You only need to know what I say you need to know," he said darkly, sending a shiver down your spine. "You were hired to do a job, so fuckin' do it."

You swallowed the lump in your throat when you saw the look in his eye.

"I'm trying, but you-"

"No," he said, cutting you off and closing the distance between you. "You were hired to look pretty and act like you're in love with me. That's fuckin' it. Everythin' else is none of your goddamn business."

You were just digging your own grave at that point so you figured there was no harm in tossing one more barb his way.

"Suppose it would have been too much to ask for you to at least tell me why you left sex out of our arrangement, but at least I know now it's not me. It's 'cause you're getting it somewhere else."

He inhaled sharply, his scowl cutting you in half.

"That's what this is 'bout?" he asked, stepping even closer. "You got your feelin's hurt yesterday?" His tone implied insincere pity and it sent a jolt of embarrassment through you but you remained quiet and held his gaze. He somehow had managed to cage you in against the wall, his arms bracing around your head as he leaned in closer. You could now smell a hint of toothpaste on his breath from when he came in earlier, without you, and you couldn't stop your next words from tumbling out.

"Did you bring her back here and fuck her in the bed I'm going to sleep in tonight?"

He smirked. He fucking smirked and you never in your life wanted to slap someone more.

"Jealous, baby?" he cooed. You shook your head but he just continued to give you that smug look. "Oh, I think you are. And you know what else?" He was taunting you now and you should have pushed him away but you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. He leaned in so his lips brushed against your ear when he whispered, "I think you would let me fuck you right now, if I wanted to."

Tears sprung up in your eyes unexpectedly so you quickly slid them shut. You refused to let him have the satisfaction of your humiliation.

Finally, he pushed himself off the wall and gave you space so you could breathe. With your eyes still closed, he spoke again from the other side of the room.

"I was gone ten minutes. Gimme some credit. I ain't fuckin' anyone in ten minutes."

You heard him yank open the closet and you managed to crack open your eyelids with a pathetic sniffle, watching as he tossed a black dress onto the bed.

"Get ready. We'll be leavin' for the island soon." Then disappeared through the door.

It only took about five minutes before Joel calmed down when the guilt crept in again. Once more he handled another situation with you as poorly as possible and to top it off, he was fairly certain he brought you to tears when he left.

He was so fucking stupid. He should have just told you the truth. He should have told you he hadn't slept with Tammy in over a year and what they had was over, but he just had to keep pushing and pushing. How did he keep making mistake after mistake? You weren't wrong. He should have given you a heads up about Tammy, but he never thought anyone else knew. And instead of admitting it, he lashed out, taking his anger out on you when it wasn't even your fault to begin with. It was his, for being careless and stupid enough for others to find out.

When you emerged from your shared room looking refreshed and fucking stunning in the dress he had rudely thrown onto the bed, he almost apologized. He wanted to, but one look at you told him you were not at all ready to hear it, so he swallowed his words and gave you some space. Well, as much space as he could allow when you were surrounded by ten other people on a deserted beach at sunset eating dinner.

He resisted the urge to drape his arm around the back of your chair or brush his fingers against yours where they rested on the table. Please forgive me, I'm sorry, he kept thinking every time he glanced your way, but you avoided all eye contact and focused on the conversation around you.

During dinner, he noticed you had not one but two more drinks and hardly touched a thing on your plate. He wanted to say something, he wanted to encourage you to at least eat a little more, but he couldn't risk setting you off again, especially in front of everyone. So he bit his tongue and smiled politely when he needed to but mentally he was scrambling to come up with a way to make things up to you.

You stretched your neck with a sigh at one point, drawing his attention, his eyes lingering on the way your fingers trailed down your throat, then watched when you pressed two fingertips into a sore spot on the base of your neck.

How could you ever think he wouldn't want you? Of course, he wanted you. Anyone in their right mind would want you. The second he laid eyes on you it was all he could think about. How could you not see that?

Fortunately, the entire group seemed to be tired so nobody really noticed or cared that you and Joel were not very talkative. On the boat ride back, he instinctively reached for your hand when the boat swayed a little in the choppy waters, but you quickly pulled your arm out of reach and turned away.

It was past ten and the waves were rockier than earlier. He wanted to thank you again for reminding him to take his motion sickness pill but he refrained. Fuck, what he wouldn't give to go back to that part of the day and do everything over.

When the boat reached the yacht, you practically leapt off and jogged back inside, his heart sinking in his chest at your retreating form. He offered his good nights and slowly followed you with his head hung low and his hands shoved in his pockets, but when he finally reached your room he realized the real reason you had been in such a hurry.

The moment he opened the door he could hear you retching in the bathroom and his eyes widened. He closed the door behind him quickly and he rushed to the bathroom, pausing on the other side of the door, unsure what to do or say.

"Are you alright?" he finally asked.

"Does it sound like I'm alright?" you shot back before gagging once again. He winced.

"I'll get you some ginger ale and crackers," he said, spinning around the room until he found a mini refrigerator stocked with a few necessities. As expected, some seasick items were supplied, and he picked out a few things he thought might help. Setting them down on your end table, he turned around and scratched his chin.

While he waited for you to emerge, he got himself changed into more comfortable clothes and then went in search of your own pajamas to lay out for you when you were ready. In one of the drawers he found a few motion sickness bags and he left one out for you when an idea struck. Quickly, he rummaged through his pants from earlier and triumphantly pulled out a little plastic bottle of pills.

When was the last time he ever tried this hard for a woman?

Just as he was about to call out to you again, you swung open the door. Your face looked pale and your eyes were red but you remained defiant and refused to glance his way. You spotted the clothes he laid out for you, and then the items on your bedside, and he thought he saw a flicker of affection in your eyes before you blinked and it was gone.

"Here," he said, holding out the bottle for you. "Take one of these, it'll help."

You stared at it for a few moments as you weighed your options, then begrudgingly snatched it from his hand and tapped one out into your palm. Tossing the bottle onto his side of the bed, you swallowed the pill with the water he set out for you and picked up your pajamas before retreating back into the bathroom for some privacy.

By the time you had changed, Joel had already switched the television on low to some bright sitcom he thought you might like and had turned down the bed. He sat on his side of the mattress, shamefully staring down at his fingers laced together in his lap, then glanced up when he heard the door open and the light turn off.

"Thank you," you murmured before sliding into bed and pulling the covers up to your chin.

"You're welcome," he said softly. He watched you silently for a few minutes while the corners of your mouth twitched occasionally at something that was said on the television, then he cleared his throat, warning you he was about to speak.

"I'm sorry," he said, brows pinching together. You looked up at him in surprise but said nothing, so he continued. "I shoulda told you 'bout Tammy. You were right. And I shouldn't've said... that other stuff," he added weakly, looking down at his hands again. "I ain't any good at this," he continued, pursing his lips in thought. "I push people away, I say all the wrong shit, always have, and now I'm doin' it to you. And it's... it ain't right."

You scanned his face, your resolve crumbling when you saw the sincerity behind his eyes.

"It's okay," you finally said, your voice sounding so small from underneath the plush comforter.

He shook his head. "No, it ain't."

"No, but I forgive you, anyway."

He finally dragged his eyes up to meet yours and smiled. "Thank you, darlin'."

You sighed and readjusted a bit under the covers. "I'm sorry, too."

"Nothin' for you to be sorry for."

"I got too drunk and embarrassed you. It won't happen again."

He scoffed and gave you a look of disbelief. "Half the people on this boat got just as drunk as you. These people are borderline alcoholics," he said, making you giggle a little. He grinned, his heart soaring when he heard the sound. "None of 'em probably even remember we went to dinner."

You laughed a little louder at that and he joined in with a chuckle under his breath. He could feel his muscles relaxing, his nerves settling. He may have just salvaged things yet.

Joel leaned back and tucked his legs under the covers, watching the sitcom but not really absorbing anything. In the past, when he let his mind wander, it was not exactly the way he pictured being in bed with you, but it was still nice.

"Things are over with me 'n her, by the way," he said after a long, comfortable silence. Your body stiffened and you tipped your head in his direction.

"Why didn't you just tell me that to begin with?"

He grinned and shrugged. "Maybe I liked it when you got jealous."

Your cheeks flared with heat and you pulled the bedding up tighter around you.

"Asshole," you muttered. He laughed, making you smile.

"I deserved that."

He could tell when you began to drift off. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw your head tilt towards your shoulder and your perfect lips part ever so slightly. You began to snore so softly, it almost seemed fake. No one looked and sounded that beautiful when they slept. Especially after being sick. But of course, you did. He should have known.

Joel reached over and flicked the lights off, washing the room in the television's glow, then slid deeper underneath the covers. Quietly, he turned the TV off and waited until his eyes adjusted to the darkness before rolling his head to the side to look at you.

What the hell were you doing to him?

It had only been a week and he could already feel himself falling, already doing things out of character and feeling more at ease in general.

So what was one more thing?

Carefully, so as not to wake you, he inched forward and wrapped one arm around your middle, pausing to see if you would stir. When your breath remained steady and even, he got a little closer and pulled.

You took a deep breath and sighed, then rolled onto your side. He closed the remaining space between you and tucked you against his chest while snaking one arm under your pillow, the other still around your waist.

The last thing he remembered thinking was how your hair smelled like coconut and vanilla, a comforting scent he wanted to wrap himself in that was so soft and addicting, it put him right to sleep.

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