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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 8 months

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I DREAM, NOW, OF A NORMAL LIFE WITH YOU ; SUGURU GETO

synopsis; suguru isn’t a lightweight. this is your first time actually seeing him drunk — though maybe it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he’d be the sappy kind.

word count; 9.4k (..... i got carried away ok)

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader (shoko calls u "girl" but in a "girl help" way not a gendered way), written w a no curses au in mind, sugu is a sappy emotional drunk i said what i said, sickening amounts of fluff, depictions of intoxication, reader is averse to alcohol, sugu wants to marry u so bad it makes him look silly, lots of emotions & lots of love <33

a/n; this fic has been ROTTING in my drafts for the longest time but its super precious to me and now i finally get to post it!! @softgirlgonehaywire & @hayakawalove ily ty for being interested in sappy!sugu this is a treat for u <33

the bar isn’t all that far off from your apartment.

it’s a short distance, really. walk straight ahead, until you reach the record store that suguru likes to frequent, and then take a right; a minute or two uphill, and then you’ll be able to see the blue of the sea. once you’re there, all that’s left is to look for mellow golden lighting and descend a set of stairs.

which is what you’re currently doing, popsicle in hand, loose clothes and comfortable shoes on as you wallow in the mellow summer evening. everything is blue — the dark shade of the sky, and your ice pop, pastel and sweet, tasting of pure youth. the hoodie you threw on is a rich cobalt, suguru’s in name but yours in spirit. he only wears it when you complain that it doesn’t smell like him anymore.

humming a jolly tune, you take a sharp turn, allowing the summer sensations to curl around your subconscious. blissed out and content.

you were so, so bored — stuck at home with no one to keep you company, no one to mumble snarky commentary about the show playing on tv, no one to run their fingers through your hair while your head rests in their lap. pure torture, really, being faced with the consequences of your own actions. after you stupidly told suguru you’d be okay on your own.

he even asked you twice, just to be sure, even told you that he’d prefer you to join him on his night out. and again, you declined; because it’s been so long since he had some time alone with shoko and satoru, and you were feeling a little tired anyways.

so he gave in. heading out, with a promise to bring back a tub of your favorite ice cream, leaving you with the apartment to yourself. did you come to regret your little white lie? maybe. possibly.

but everything worked out in the end.

a pleasant breeze caresses your skin, brushing against the apple of your cheek, and you watch as peach blossoms dance in a faraway park. cicadas cling to every tree in sight, buzzing a pleasant tune, mingling with the giddy giggles of high school students enjoying their summer vacation. it’s been raining for a couple of days; you can still smell it in the air, feel it in the low tinge of humidity clinging to your skin, still hear suguru’s insistence that you bring an umbrella with you to work — just in case.

but today, the skies were clear, and it’s late, not too humid but not too chilly. and the stars are out, glimmering in that fuzzy sea of mellow cerulean, leaking out like little marbles cast into space. falling down, down, down, close enough for you to see. from here, it looks as if they’re waving. you resist the urge to wave back.

peace. bliss. a nostalgia so vibrant you could drown in it, feel it lick at your ankles like soft sea foam.

eager to scratch a certain itch in your brain, attention span zipping from one street vendor to the pop music blasting from a couple streets away, you take your phone out from your pocket. absently scrolling through your messages, until you get to the ones shoko sent you just ten minutes ago. the ones that brought you out here, into a summer evening soon to slip into nightfall, ones that have you walking to the bar you chose not to join them at.

messages that still have you pushing back a bout of giggles, chewing lazily on your ramune ice pop with a giddy smile.

sho 🚬: come get ur man sho 🚬: he’s drunk. sho 🚬: like DRUNK drunk

you: …… um. you: what happened to hi? hello?? good evening???

sho 🚬: no time for that. look sho 🚬: [ image ] sho 🚬: he looks so goofy lol

unable to resist the temptation, you press the pad of your finger against the screen — opening the image attachment, just to drink in the sight once again. what you see is a certain man, slumped over in his seat, cheek smooshed against the wooden table in front of him. messy hair, no longer tied into a bun, cascading down his shoulders and back. from the little you can see of his face, his skin is flushed a light pink, and his eyes are closed, fingers still curled around an empty beer jug.

like a sleepy puppy.

a coo tiptoes on your tongue, but you bite down on your lip in an effort to stop it, just grinning at your screen with pure adoration in your lovesick eyes.

he’s drunk, alright. an unfamiliar sight, but not at all unwelcome. because he’s cute, terribly so, so cute that it hurts, even when he’s obviously wasted. it’s almost funny — you know their drinking habits. shoko holds her liquor so well that it’s a little horrifying, and satoru can get wasted if he has more than a sip of it. and suguru?

suguru never gets drunk. he barely even drinks. out of consideration for satoru, maybe, or you. probably both. that’s just how he is; you thought he hated fish for years, because he was always so eager to give you the best bites of the sushi rolls you ordered. turns out he was just indulging you.

so, to be frank — the idea of him suddenly being drunk is a little bit of a shocker. but it’s also kind of exciting, in a ridiculous way. new, fun, just what you need when you’re bored out of your mind.

(or maybe you’re just happy to have an excuse to go see him.)

you: NOOOO you: MY BABY 😭😭😭 you: what did u guys DO to him???

sho 🚬: satoru and him made a bet 😐 you know how they are sho 🚬: he drank like a divorced mother of four ive never seen something so beautiful

you: …. you: have i told you that you’re both terrible

sho 🚬: u love us <33 sho 🚬: anyway he’s been asking me where u are for the past ten minutes pls come i can’t stand him sho 🚬: he’s crying.

you: HUH???????? you: WHY????????????????

sho 🚬: dude i dont know sho 🚬: please come get him he’s being so sappy that satoru’s abt to throw up

you: ???? okok 😭 you: im omw ig??

sho 🚬: girl hurry he just told me he genuinely appreciates my presence in his life 😐

an exhale — laced with deep amusement — drops from your lips and spills into the summer air. it tastes like a memory from long ago.

slipping your phone back into your pocket, you raise your gaze, searching for a glimmer of goldish light. soaking up the scent of the ocean, sparkling on the border of your peripheral. salty and sweet.

no matter how hard you try, all you can think of is that certain someone, waiting for you to pick him up. your mind keeps drifting back to the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the way his hair falls over his face when he leans down, the sound he makes when he stretches in the morning.

you want to see him. badly. you want him near, want to feel the familiar warmth of his presence, want to see him smile and laugh and sigh and raise his eyebrow at your antics.

so there isn’t any time to waste. you’re walking towards that familiar set of stairs before you know it, shoes hitting the asphalt with a mantra of satisfying thuds.

and when you step in through the opened door, you’re immediately engulfed by a sense of overflowing comfort. mellow, warm lights, the soft buzzing of static from an old radio, low citypop beats trailing through the air. the bartender by the counter gives you a curt nod in greeting, before motioning towards a certain table. it’s over in the corner, covered in beer jugs and fancy glasses, with three beauties seated around it.

satoru notices you first.

a bright grin finds its way onto his face, and he waves you over giddily, happily. barely contained excitement in the motion. shoko’s gaze follows his, flitting over to meet yours — and you think she mouths an oh, thank god, before taking another sip from her glass. she brings a hand up in greeting when you come closer, and you can’t see her smile, but there’s a crinkle to her eyes; a warmth in them that you’d never miss.

”hey, guys.”

”yo!” satoru chirps, beaming in a way that’s so distinctly him it makes you soften. he looks so comfortable in his seat, with a cocktail you know is non-alcoholic and probably too sweet for anyone but him to stomach. giggling to himself, leaning over to poke suguru’s cheek, with a teasing declaration of your chaperone is here!

and there he is.

the man you came here for, still slumped over in his seat, unresponsive. not for long. as the lilt of your voice reaches his ears, his eyes flutter open, in a bout of recognition — even in the drunken state he’s in. an immediate sensation of familiarity creeps into his veins, rousing him from his cozy, half-asleep stupor.

he doesn’t even grumble over the way satoru keeps poking at his cheek, interest and attention focused solely on a certain someone. you, your presence.

and when your eyes meet his, he lights up.

it’s precious, you think, how his eyes widen, blooming with genuine affection, so endearing you could kiss him right then and there. his face is flushed, and his hair is tousled, and the warm lighting of the bar paints him in a golden hue. so perfect for him, your star in the sky.

a smile spreads across his lips, big and happy and warm, and you can’t help but mirror it.

(gosh, he’s cute.)

with a dizzy kind of eagerness, suguru sits up, palms flush against the table to support his weight. he stumbles out of his seat, paying no heed to satoru’s amused huff of careful! or the rattling of fragile glass.

it only takes a few uncoordinated steps for him to reach you, where you haphazardly lean against the wall, watching him amusedly. that delighted smile never leaves his lips, as his arms go to curl around your waist, big and heavy, his jaw finding its rightful place on the curve of your shoulder.

”baby,” he drawls, fond and affectionate. breathing you in. ”sweetheart. my angel.”

a flustered puff of laughter slips from your lips, stumbling a little under his weight. his voice is syrupy sweet, overflowing with love and adoration, soft in a way that has your knees buckling. a little raspy. murmured right into your ear, sending pleasant shivers down your spine.

he’s too sweet for you to handle, really, even sweeter than satoru’s overpriced cocktail. and he smells the same as always; a blend between coffee grounds, cigarette smoke and rain, one that never fails to soothe you. even when it’s tangled up with a vague but vivid stench of alcohol, courtesy of the drinking he’s been doing until now.

you crinkle your nose, but don’t let go of him, nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head. words buzzing with warmth. ”hey, sugu.”

suguru only squeezes you tighter, content to have you in his arms. finally, his world makes sense again. all he can do is bask in your voice, warmth, scent — he’s just so enamored by it all. almost in a trance, heartstrings dancing along to the beat of your presence, your very existence, that appears to him as something almost angelic. soft and familiar, something that feels right at home when it’s tucked into his embrace. where he can keep it safe.

”missed you…” he murmurs, sleepy, smearing an open mouthed kiss against the crook of your neck. ”i love you s’much…”

a chuckle. ”i love you too,” you echo, running a steady hand over his back. your voice is laced with something teasing, but awfully fond. ”you really are drunk, aren’t you?”

”mm…” he only hums, cheek pressed flush against your soft skin. ”’m sorry…” he mumbles, stifling a yawn. he sounds a little guilty, and it makes you want to coo. pull his cheek a little.

instead, you laugh. amusement vowen into the bubbly noise. ”it’s fine, sugu. c’mon — let’s go home, alright?”

at that, satoru visibly reacts, placing his glass on the table with a soft clink before getting up to stretch. he grabs suguru’s discarded jacket, letting it hang off his arm as he walks over to the two of you.

”i’ll help you carry him,” he smiles, always so dependable. so ready to be of service. maybe a little too eager to carry suguru around like a sack of potatoes.

a smile blooms on your face, and satoru gives you a playful wink. shoko just leans back in her seat, stretching idly. it feels like home with them there.

”i’ll stay here,” she hums, a faint grin tugging at her lips. ”he’s your problem now.”

”got it.” you meet her lidded eyes, sharing an amused look as satoru tries to coax suguru away from you, pulling at his cheek while he whines and clings to the fabric of your clothing.

finally, he relents, and you look back at the table with a grin. ”see you later, sho’.”

a smile is the only response you get, but it’s enough. it’s her, the same as always, still sipping from a glass of expensive whiskey and raising her hand in a silent see you. relaxed and cool, and so very lovely.

with one arm over satoru’s shoulder and the other clinging to your hoodie, suguru stirs.

”shoko…” he groans, craning his head to look back at her, even as satoru makes a move to leave. ”don’t drink too much. and watch out for strangers…”

he trails off, blinking drowsily, a protective tone to his voice. worried. awfully like him. neither you nor satoru can resist the chuckle you indulge in, but shoko just rolls her hazel eyes.

”i don’t need to hear that from you,” she scoffs, tinged with amusement and what you’re almost certain is embarrassment. there’s a fondness to her snark, one you’d never miss.

(shoko will always be shoko. you know that she appreciates suguru’s concern, even if she doesn’t want to show it.)

”alright, c’mon,” satoru quips, slapping suguru’s back with a grin. ”there, there, big guy. let’s get you home, hm?”

just as you suspected, he doesn’t let you help, doing all the heavy lifting on his own. not breaking a single sweat, flaunting his strength as he hoists suguru up the steps — while you do nothing but follow, a light jacket hanging off your arm.

cold midnight air embraces you, slathering your cheeks with the essence of summer as your shoes meet the asphalt. satoru smiles, a low exhale escaping him, dusting off his hands. ”there we go.”

suguru stumbles towards you, no longer caged in, slumping against your shoulder with a satisfied sigh. blinking slowly, as you link arms, his muddled senses adjusting to the outside world. a pleasantly blue sky, a sun long set, and a string of lamp posts to light up the street ahead of you. artificial fireflies, watching over the town you love so dearly.

you part your lips, and a soft exhale slips out, dripping with fondness. ”thanks, satoru,” you smile, meeting his gaze.

”don’t mention it,” he waves you off, but you know he appreciates it; always eager to be praised. ”can you bring him back by yourself?”

”yeah, we’ll be fine. it’s close, anyway. don’t worry.”

a hum buzzes in his throat, and his cobalt gaze drifts upwards, to bask in the starry sky. a moment passes, and then he’s looking back at you and suguru; a soft and earnest smile playing at his lips. so sincere you want to reach out, cup his cheek, make sure he knows how loved he is.

”i’ll go back to shoko, then,” he chirps. bubbly and graceful, giddy and playful. always so lovely. ”gotta make sure she stays out of trouble.”

a chuckle. you mirror his smile. ”of course.”

and with that, your precious best friend makes a move to return to the bar, taking a decisive step away from you. before he can get too far, though, a certain hand reaches out to hold onto his sleeve — keeping him still.

satoru turns around. blinking once, then twice, in confusion; faced with none other than suguru, still slumped against you. a little out of it, sleepy and disoriented, yawning quietly, but his eyes are as clear as ever. caring and sentimental.

his gaze cuts to the bone of things. it’s something you’ve grown used to.

”thanks, satoru,” he murmurs, letting go of said man’s shirt. the words that spill from his lips are straightforward, a little tactless, but overflowing with earnest appreciation. ”you’re my best friend.”

a moment passes. the stars burn in silence.

satoru blinks.

then he sighs, with what you know is nothing more than feigned annoyance. masking his embarrassment, the same way shoko did, the same way suguru always does. your repressed, beloved little losers.

”yeah, yeah. i got it,” he pats suguru’s shoulder, once, twice. not looking at him. ”you’re such a sap, you know that? geez.”

a grin crawls up to rest on your lips, fresh mischief blooming in your eyes. ”not gonna call him your best friend back?” you tease, a soft tilt of your head.

satoru gives you a glare, playful, one you can’t physically see from behind his shades but still somehow sense. ”don’t add fuel to the fire,” he grins, with a halfhearted flick to your forehead.

before you can bicker further, suguru yawns, loudly, closing his eyes and nuzzling into you. you share an amused look with satoru, until he shakes his head fondly.

”take care of him, alright?”

”i will. you guys have fun!”

and at last, satoru turns on his heel, coupled with a smile and a lazy wave. but suguru calls out to him once more, unwilling to part ways without saying his piece. so sentimental, so loving it comes to him like breathing.

”bye-bye, satoru,” he slurs, voice loud enough for the entire street to hear, tired and honest. raising his arm in a lazy wave. ”i love you!”

”go home already!” satoru shouts, descending down the steps with a flush to his cheeks that you’ll tease him for later. his soft laughter is carried away by the breeze, sweet and saccharine.

(satoru will always be satoru. you know that he loves suguru back, even if he doesn’t want to say it out loud.)

with a faint chuckle, melting into the summer air, you tug on suguru’s arm. ”alright,” you chirp, looking up at him. ”let’s go!”

he seems a little more awake now, at least, trying to match your steps. meanwhile, you do what you can to support his weight; he’s stumbling a bit, but you don’t mind. if anything, his weight is a comfort, your arms linked together like a lucky charm. a safe harbour.

suguru is acting kind of like a big puppy, gazing at you with hearts in his eyes. a little meek, clinging to you, trailing after you pliantly. he’s a little dizzy, still, and he needs you to get back home in one piece. it makes you puff out your chest, stand up straighter. makes you feel protective of your 6’2 boyfriend, all toned muscle and broad shoulders, the personification of scary dog privilege. but he needs you right now.

a soft bout of laughter spills into the air, as you try to ignore his heavy stare. it’s impossible, though — so you turn your gaze to meet his own, and he practically glows under the sound of your giggles, that cheeky smile you’re wearing. ”you okay, suguru?”

his eyes soften. silently, he runs a thumb over the knots of your knuckle, smoothing down your skin, thick fingers intertwined with yours.

he looks deep into your eyes, and a soft hum of affirmation buzzes in his throat.

”i’m just so happy,” he grins, with a sincerity that has your heart doing flips inside your ribcage. it flutters, flutters, flutters, in the wake of his unbridled joy. it buzzes like it wants to break out.

suguru has this dreamy look on his face, one you can do nothing but admire, painted over with fluorescent moonlight and pure summer bliss. one that reminds you a little of high school rooftops, midnight road trips, what it means to be in love.

you nudge him, softly, with the arm that’s tangled up in his own. tilting your head, teasing words on the tip of your tongue. ”you know, i never took you for a sappy drunk.”

suguru's only response is a cute little mmrn, steps heavy as he leans on you for support. trying his best to carry himself, not wanting to inconvenience you, but it’s just a little tough. especially when he feels this soft, this grateful — this blessed.

a giddy, dreamy smile tugs at his lips. his amber gaze travels up, towards the little pale dots of star clusters all across the night sky, gleaming like milk poured over rich coffee. then he exhales; a soft, blissful little sound. ”i’m so lucky.”

a moment passes, silently. in the distance, cicadas buzz. with a patient smile, you admire him, the reflection of starlight in his eyes. suguru has this forlorn look, etched into his expression, like he’s seeing something that isn’t quite there.

”i have satoru and shoko…” he mumbles, just loud enough for you to hear. as if he’s tasting the words on his tongue, as if he can’t quite believe them himself. that’s how lucky he feels, sometimes.

a nod. ”they love you a bunch, you know?”

(they do. they’re both horrible at saying it out loud, but you know they do. you know that they love suguru, just as much as he loves them, even if none of them are good at putting it into words. perhaps they don’t really even need to, in the first place.)

suguru mirrors the soft nod of your head, bangs falling over his eyes as he does. ”and i love them, too.” his smile grows. ”they’re my best friends.”

absently, you reach a hand out, brushing away the strands of hair obscuring his vision. and suguru stirs, his gaze shifting until it falls on you. like a moth to a flame. there’s something indescribable in his eyes, soft and heavy and tender and true.

”— and i have you.”

a stutter of your heartbeat, a jolt throughout your chest. his stare almost burns, but you can’t avert your gaze — suguru looks positively lovesick. admiring you with a dreamy gaze, as if he can’t believe you’re real.

he reaches a hand out; cradling your face with one big palm, the rough pads of his fingers smoothing down your skin so very gently. smearing his fondness from your jaw to your cheekbone, so loving your breath hitches in the back of your throat.

a soft, content sigh spills into the air, like a prayer that doesn’t need any words. his smile is serene.

”my angel.”

as the words fall, that peaceful smile of his changes shape, shifting into a big, giddy grin. it lights up his whole face. a chuckle leaves his lips, content and delighted. ”i’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

and for a moment, you fear that your heart will stop beating entirely. frozen, listening to the lullaby of your heartbeat resounding in your ears.

suguru has always been frighteningly good at flustering you — but isn’t this a little unfair? you clear your throat, hoping to regain some composure. it’s tough, though. your words could never measure up to his, could never flow as freely, but they’re honest. wholly and thoroughly. and maybe that’s enough.

”we’re the luckiest in the world, too, then,” you echo, smiling, words barely above a whisper. willing yourself to meet his gaze. ”since we have you.”

suguru looks into your eyes. there’s starlight inside them, he thinks, shining brightly, gleaming in the dark. with the hazy filter of intoxication clouding his mind, it’s all he can think. you’re his northern star, his lighthouse. his one and only saving grace.

(you’re so, so pretty.)

a pause. after a silent moment, spent etching your features into his retinas, suguru tilts his head. his expression is unreadable.

— he boops your nose.

you blink. once, twice, caught entirely off guard; and suguru giggles. soft, giddy little breaths falling from his lips like marbles, strewn over the sand of a warm beach. his eyes are crinkled at the edges, and his smile is sweet, meeting your surprised gaze with a honeyed coo. ”you’re so cute, baby.”

silence. you look up at him.

then you sigh, exasperated, more flustered than you’d like to admit. god. okay, he’s really out of it. for some reason, you still thought you could get a good one-liner in, but of course he had to ruin that by being a little tease.

you grab onto his bicep. gaze fixed straight ahead, giving it a tug. your steps are more decisive now, and suguru follows you happily. ”alright, alright. c’mon,” you beckon, slightly gruff. ”we’re almost there.”

when you finally reach the familiar front door of your apartment, you exhale a deep sigh, laced with pure relief. limbs tired from dragging suguru up the stairs, mind muddled and sleepy and senses practically engulfed by a man still clinging to you like his life depends on it.

after fumbling with your keys and hearing the click of the lock, you take a victorious step over the threshold, and a familiar scent greets you. soothing, comforting, a blend between fresh laundry and leftover curry and blooming hydrangeas. filling your senses with a fervent kind of bliss. of course, suguru’s does the same; intimately intertwined with the scent of home. that everlasting, never-changing blend.

with him clinging to you like this, it’s almost suffocating — but you truly don’t mind. suguru’s warm, and sweet, and being close to him like this makes you feel at peace. his hands rest on your hips, his jaw on your shoulder, and he adamantly refuses to let go of you for even a second. it’d be annoying if he wasn’t so cute, if he wasn’t suguru geto, if you weren’t so horrendously weak for him.

what you don’t know is that suguru has an agenda. one that isn’t just i want to hug the love of my life, although partially that as well. suguru has a plan, one he’s been absentmindedly dreaming of for the past five minutes; he’s a man on a mission.

but he’s patient. always has been, always for you. so he waits, and waits, for you to hang his jacket up, for you to kick your shoes off your feet. and when you’re finally, finally finished, suguru leans in to kiss you.

— you block his mouth with the palm of your hand.

a moment passes. silent, almost tense. in his stupor, suguru’s mind can’t quite seem to comprehend the situation before him; he doesn’t understand why he isn’t pressing a kiss to your lips, right now, why he’s kissing the skin of your palm. he doesn’t understand why you look so troubled, a faint guilt simmering in your eyes. he just doesn’t understand.

all he can do is blink, dumbly, surprised. a question written on his features clear as day.

”well, it’s just…” you sputter, sheepishly. avoiding his gaze, a little guilty. ”you know. since you’ve been drinking, and all…”

and it hurts, you think. it hurts a lot more than it should. it hurts to reject him, hurts to see the way he deflates at your clarification. like a big kicked puppy. like you just threatened to throw him out into the street.

suguru removes your hand, gently, holding it in his own as he speaks. those amber eyes are downcast, and a soft pout rests on his lips. the sight alone feels like a dagger to your chest.

”but…” he frowns, voice awfully meek. he looks so sad. ”i wanna kiss you…”

a soft sigh leaves your lips, before you can think to hold it in. oh, he’s being so unfair. guilt clings to your mind, an itch you yearn to scratch, and all you want is to kiss his pout away. but you really, really don’t want to kiss his alcohol-soaked lips.

so you settle for the second best option.

”’m sorry, sugu,” you coo, reaching a hand out to cradle his cheek. he leans into your touch, still pouting, and you tug a little at his bottom lip. wasting no time in closing the narrow distance between you.

the kisses you press against his skin are soft. peppering kisses all across his face; ghosting your lips along his jaw, trailing towards his cheekbones, and settling on his forehead. tiny little pecks, wherever you can reach. your voice is soft, muffled into his skin between butterfly kisses. ”tomorrow, okay?”

and suguru seems to brighten up a little, melting under the contact, exhaling in pure bliss. he fervently returns the treatment, planting open mouthed kisses all over your face, respecting your wishes and avoiding your lips. they’re a little sloppy, but you don’t mind.

it does make you a little flustered, though. with his palms cradling your face, engulfing you, there’s nothing you can do except drown in his affection, the love he showers you with. it tickles — and suguru’s smile only grows, at the sound of your soft giggles. his cheeks are starting to hurt.

the state he’s in is just a little bit hazy. despite his initial dejection, he no longer minds that he can’t feel your lips against his, disappointment warded off by your smile and laughter alone. he thinks you’re so, so cute, and all he wants is to kiss you forever.

but you have other plans.

and before you know it, you’re both curled up in bed, limbs all tangled up beneath the blankets, bodies pressed together as suguru cages you in. he squeezes you tightly, hugging you close, practically melting into you. usually, it’d be so easy to fall asleep like this. with suguru cradling you, covering your body with his own, warm and safe. he’s like a furnace.

but right now, it’s a little tough. you’re kept awake by open mouthed, ticklish kisses pressed against your skin, supplied by the love of your life. it’s sweet, but he’s being far too distracting — as soon as your consciousness begins to fade into the fuzzy realm of sleep, he leaves a sloppy kiss against your collarbone, and you’re jolted awake once more.

”suguuu,” you whine, dragging his name out with childish inclination. ”we need to sleep…”

”sorry,” he only murmurs, muffled into your skin. he doesn’t stop, though, planting a wet smooch on your cheek, and then another. you squirm a little in his hold, and he emits a shaky breath. ”jus’ love you so much…”

suguru knows that he needs to stop. he knows that both of you need to sleep, that you need to rest up. that he needs to recover from the intoxicated state he’s fully aware that he’s in — but he just can’t seem to follow through with it. every cell in his body burns with a certain desire, a need to shower you in love, and it’s unendurable. with every kiss, every giggle he manages to pull from your lips, suguru’s heart fills up just a little more.

your presence surrounds him, like a weighted blanket, and he clings to it with a desperation he never knew before you.

in the midst of his feverish consciousness, you’re all his muddled mind can think about. the way you fit together with him like a puzzle piece, like he was formed in the shape of someone meant to hold you. like you were formed in the shape of his embrace. with you pressed up against him, limbs tangled with his, everything feels so right.

but it’s so overwhelming.

you’re so, so close, so close he’s practically engulfed by your scent, your touch, everything that makes his heart burn with devotion. it’s beating so viscerally in his ribcage, stirring the protective instinct inside him; he just wants you to stay close, by his side, wants to keep you safe and happy. wants to make you feel loved.

suguru’s heart feels wet and raw and bare, fully exposed for you to see. beating just for you.

with the alcohol inside his veins, and the nostalgia of the summer evening on his mind, everything weighs on him just a little too heavily. everything feels just a little too much. every sensation, every emotion, every sappy thought. all of it together is almost too much for him to handle.

all he can think of is you. how lucky he is, to have met you, to have gotten to know you. how much you’ve changed him, changed him for the better, how much of him is directly tied to your existence.

suguru never truly appreciated his name until you came into his life. it was always no more than a simple fact, a gift from his parents that he hadn’t asked for. something natural, that he didn’t question, didn’t think about.

but you say his name with such warmth.

he wants to hear you say it, over and over again, forever. suguru — in that sweet, lovely voice of yours. better yet, just sugu, a cutesy, silly nickname he could never bring himself to actually hate. he just wants to hear you call out to him, with that warmth of yours, the one that never fails to soothe him. no matter how tired he is, how stressed. how much everything else weighs down on him.

at the end of the day, he’s simply your sugu. and that’s all he ever really wants to be.

with a hazy filter clouding his senses, coaxing him into closing his eyes, suguru should give in. he should fall asleep, let you fall asleep. but he can’t bring himself to stop thinking about it; he just loves you so wholly. who you are, what you do. as an equal, an individual, a little galaxy tucked into a body made of flesh and blood. no matter what you’re doing, no matter where you are.

and right now, you’re here, with him. curled up in bed, in your shared apartment, inhaling the same air, exhaling at the same time. by his side, when you could be anywhere else in the world.

his heart is yours. that’s all suguru can bring himself to think, the only coherent thought he can cling to and echo in his head. his heart is yours. forever and ever.

he makes no attempt to stop the tears from pooling in his eyes, even as he feels them cling to his lashes, even as his breathing clogs up in the back of his throat. they’re proof of his devotion, his carefully nurtured love. growing over the years, into something almost sacred, a kind of faith. something so fervent he wouldn’t dare deny himself of feeling it.

he can’t hold in a faint sniffle, either, just barely audible. one that breaks your heart in two. it aches, aches, aches. suguru is gazing at you with glassy eyes, a sight you aren’t used to seeing — but he also looks so genuinely glad. his tears aren’t ones of sadness. you know, because you know him.

”aw, honey…” you coo, the pads of your fingers reaching out to cradle his cheek. despite your efforts, your voice wavers when you speak, little more than a whisper. ”don’t cry... you’ll make me cry, too.”

suguru places his larger palm over yours, choking on another sniffle. the sight renders you completely helpless — you want so desperately to stop his tears from falling, but a part of you is too touched to speak. too mesmerized by how beautiful he is, translucent tears illuminated by softly flickering moonrays, lashes glimmering like shooting stars.

all you can do is smooth a thumb right under his eye, wiping away a stray tear with enough tenderness to stitch his heart back together. suguru emits a shaky breath.

”’m sorry,” he sniffles, closing his eyes. nuzzling into the crook of your neck. ”i’m just so happy… love you so much… you mean so, so much to me, i…”

an exhale, a little breathless, tears soaking through the material of the shirt you’re wearing. his shirt. that realization makes him cry even more, a shuddering breath that shatters like glass when it drops from his tongue.

and then, in a voice so quiet you barely hear it, a soft whisper worth a million words:

”i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

and it hurts. your heart aches so sincerely, thorns curling around your ribcage, because suguru is crying, and he’s telling you all this. with such an honest intonation that you don’t dare doubt him, even for a second. heavy thumps of blood rush through your veins; he’s still clinging to you, sniffling into your neck, and you’re so in love with him that you almost can’t comprehend it.

all you can do is press a kiss to his shoulder, chaste and tender, and hug him just a little tighter. echoing his words, in earnest, desperately trying to keep your voice from breaking apart. ”i love you, too. more than anything.” a sigh, full of wonder. little butterfly kisses scattered across the expanse of his neck. ”you mean the world to me. honestly.”

with a smile against his skin, you hope so tenderly that the soft kisses will comfort him, will stop the tears from falling.

”my sweet boy,” you murmur, lovingly, because he is. the sweetest boy you’ll ever know. suguru shudders when you press your lips against his jaw. ”i’m so, so lucky.”

with the combined efforts of your kisses, the alcohol slumbering inside his veins, and the tears running down his cheeks, suguru begins to feel awfully tired. sinking into sleep’s embrace, like a sailor lost at sea. comforted by the glimmer of a lighthouse, just out of reach.

everything feels right. he’s safe, and happy, and in love. so hopelessly, blissfully in love.

the exhaustion creeps up on him, tidal waves embracing a shore, beckoning him into closing his weary eyes. a yawn leaves his lips, and he shifts a little in your hold. you’re smoothing down the back of his head, almost protectively, and sleep is only a flicker away for the both of you. with the last of his strength, suguru snuggles just a little further into you, nose pressed up against your neck, close enough that he feels the flutter of your heartbeat.

”wanna be with you forever,” he murmurs, sleepily, stifling another bout of yawns. his smile is sweet and dreamy. ”gonna marry you one day…”

a moment passes.

for a second, you think your heart does actually cease beating entirely.

swallowing a gulp, you allow yourself the luxury of an inhale — and fresh air fills your lungs. grounding. all you can hear is the rapid beating of your own heart, heavy thumps reverberating in your ears. warmth flows through your entire body.

marry.

the word is spoken so casually, so sincerely, as if he’s said it countless times before. as if he’s repeated it, over and over again in his mind, just to get used to the idea. as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. marriage. something so foreign, so scary, enough to send shivers down every narrow of your skeleton. such a large step to take.

(but suguru says it with such tenderness.)

”… okay,” you whisper, at last. breathless. ”i’ll be waiting, then.”

there’s nothing else to say. you don’t know if suguru is even conscious enough to hear you, let alone understand the full weight of your words, of his own words. but you don’t mind.

a soft smile lingers on your lips, as you stroke his hair, mind hazy and limbs heavy. nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head, full of affection. dripping from your hands down to the column on his throat, through his windpipe, down to his heart.

”goodnight, sugu.” you press a kiss to his messy hair, tender and chaste. ”i love you.”

an incoherent mutter leaves his lips, in response, one you can’t quite make out — but you don’t need to. because you already know what it means, in the same way you know that the sky is blue.

(an echo buried deep within his subconscious, voiced without effort, as easy as breathing.

i love you, too.)

the sizzling of a pan and the whirring of a coffee machine form a beautiful morning symphony, bouncing off the walls of your kitchen. to your ears, and your still sleepy brain, it’s a soothing sound — coaxing soft little melodic hums from the depths of your throat.

with such a tantalizing aroma in the air, a blend between espresso and pancake batter, you can’t help but buzz with a mellow, groggy kind of joy.

honestly, you're beginning to understand suguru’s fondness for the morning hours. waking up to his soft snores and content expression was more than enough to give you the energy you needed to get out of bed; all sleepy and relaxed and pretty, with hazy morning sunrays kissing up his bare skin, caressing his messy bedhead.

a rare sight, awfully precious. a part of you wanted to stay in bed and admire him all morning, but the thought of taking care of him coaxed you into leaving. it’s the least you could do, really — after seeing him so sincere, so open and vulnerable.

hopefully, his headache won’t be too brutal when he wakes up. you left some hangover pills on the nightstand, courtesy of shoko’s advice: just get him ibuprofen and coffee. works like a charm. are you a little worried about her nonchalance? maybe. but you trust her judgement. they’re a handful, but you love them — even when they’re drunk or hungover.

which is why you’re standing in the kitchen, engulfed by the morning sunlight, in front of a sizzling pan. trying your very best not to burn the pancakes you’re making, patiently waiting for the coffee to be done.

in your blissful stupor, caught up with thoughts of suguru and breakfast and forevers, you don’t notice another presence coming up behind you.

two arms wrap around your waist, and a jaw attaches itself to the curve of your shoulder. you startle, a little, jolting at the contact — but then you recognize that telltale scent, the familiar weight of his arms, and immediately melt into the embrace.

suguru breathes out a raspy chuckle, amused at your surprise.

a sigh slips from your lips, content. ”good morning,” you hum, placing the palm of your hand on his forearm. suguru shifts a little, getting more comfortable as he leans against you. tenderly, not too much weight. he’s delicate like that.

”g’morning,” he rasps, leftover sleep clinging to the syllables. the usual smoothness of his voice is coupled with a deep, rough kind of tilt, one that always accompanies it in the morning. your heartbeat picks up, silently.

suguru smiles. dreamy, giddy, because you just looked so pretty, in the morning light, hair still a tad messy. humming happily, swaying slightly side to side. so irresistible. he’s beginning to understand why you love sleeping in so much; getting to wrap his arms around you like this, instead of the other way around, doesn’t feel bad at all.

he squeezes you just a little tighter, hoping it’ll convey his gratitude. there are holes in his memory, last night no more than a blurry sequence of still images, but some bits and pieces remain intact. he remembers getting drunk in a way he hasn’t since he made that bet with satoru back in high school — and he remembers that you were there to take care of him.

a smile tugs at his lips. a little giddy, butterflies erupting in his chest. he’s so damn lucky.

”thanks for taking care of me yesterday, sweetheart.”

a hum. you smile, sheepishly, patting his arm. ”don’t need to thank me for that. how do you feel?”

suguru smiles. you feel it, against your skin, a chaste kiss on your neck. ”better.”

the low purring of the coffee machine has stopped, but the sizzling of the pan remains. from beyond the opened windows, you can hear the chirping of cicadas, melodic and serene. singing a summery tune. both of you soak in the preciousness of the moment, the fragile silence, before suguru breaks it.

”everything from last night is kinda fuzzy,” he admits, clearing his throat. just a tad sheepish. you simply hum, a low noise of acknowledgement, and he continues. ”i don’t really remember anything… ’m sorry, baby. i hope i didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

your lips curl up into a tiny smile. such a sweetheart — always worrying about you. always so caring and attentive. eager to reassure him, you smooth over the skin of his arm with your thumb. ”not at all.”

then you’re taking a couple steps back, moving from the stove, and suguru follows. you turn yourself around to meet his gaze, his arms still attached to your waist, a comforting weight.

a grin blooms on your lips, a little teasing, and a flicker of mischief shines in your eyes. ”you were cute, you know.”

suguru blinks, before emitting a low chuckle. a raspy little thing. ”was i?” he drawls, as you brush his bangs away from his face.

”mhm,” you chirp, eyes crinkled as they meet his own. you just can’t help but want to tease him, a little bit. just a smidge. ”kept going on and on about how much you love us.”

hands moving to cup his face, you squeeze his cheeks softly. and suguru lets you, too tired to resist, only giving you a lazy raise of his brow. there’s a sense of amusement in his eyes, and something in you knows he likes the attention. your teasing words buzz with endearment, akin to a purr. ”my sweet lil’ sugu.”

all he does is lean into your touch, allowing himself to melt into the tenderness of the physical contact. even as you pull at his cheek, earning you a very gentle pinch to your side. but he lets you have your fun. you’re warm, and sweet, and he’s so in love with you he’d probably let you tug his body around however you please.

still, your words leave him just slightly perplexed. he’s still smiling with half-lidded eyes when he asks you to elaborate, basking in the feeling of your thumb smoothing over his cheekbone. ”us?”

your grin widens, by a tad, something deeply amused glimmering in the depths of your iris. ”yep,” you answer, popping the p. for some reason, suguru dreads the teasing edge to your voice. ”me, and shoko, and satoru.”

a moment passes. he stiffens, for a second or two, mind processing the words. then he groans, softly, squeezing his eyes shut.

it makes you laugh, soft and amused, and he can’t help but smile along. despite the dreadful realization you present him with. no wonder he was met with so many notifications when he tapped at the screen of his phone — he didn’t read through any of them, but now he’s apprehensive to do so at all. shoko and satoru can be so goddamn obnoxious when they feel as if they have blackmail on him.

he can see it now, in his mind’s eye; shoko nagging him to run her errands, satoru reminding him of his words every time they have a slight disagreement.

(grab me a coffee. three shots of espresso, one cube of sugar. got it?)

slacker.

(we both know i’m right. don’t be so stubborn, suguru! it’s okay to be wrong sometimes.)

asshole.

(c’mon. you said you loved me, right?

so mean. and here i thought you loved me!)

idiots.

(he does love them. more than anything. even when they’re being absolutely insufferable.)

suguru just sighs, deep and fatigued, already anticipating his doom. ”they’re never gonna let me live it down, are they?”

a giggle slips from your lips, and his heart flutters helplessly. ”probably not. my condolences.”

another sigh. it only makes your smile widen. there’s something awfully delighted, in your eyes, as you cradle his face in your hands. ”well, i thought you were very sweet!”

”yeah, yeah…” he mutters, vaguely amused. placing one of his large palms over your hand, where it rests on his cheek. ”i won’t be doing that again anytime soon.”

a chuckles bubbles up from within your throat. ”aww,” you pout, giving way to a teasing grin. ”that’s a shame. i wanted to hear you talk about how much you love me again.”

suguru blinks.

then he smiles. a very particular smile, characteristic, one you’ve come to associate solely with him. resting somewhere in the intersection between a soft grin and a teasing smirk. a flicker of mischief shines in his eyes, and you realize your mistake.

you can tease suguru all you want; but he'll always turn the tables on you, at the end of the day.

”oh?” he chuckles, fondly, thumb smoothing over the lines of your hand. his eyes gleam, looking straight into yours, shining with something mildly devilish. ”i don’t need to get drunk to tell you that, baby.”

in a smooth motion, one you can’t help but silently envy, suguru intertwines his fingers with yours and brings your hand to his lips. he never once breaks eye contact, gaze heavy as he basks in your flustered expression, planting a soft kiss against your knuckle. reverent.

”i love you. more than anything,” he purrs, lips still lingering on your skin. warm enough to burn. ”you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

a pause. heat crawls up your spine, and a flush rises to your cheeks. you couldn’t stop it if you tried.

”my everything,” he continues, intent on flustering you as much as humanly possible. voice low and smooth, honeyed and deep, and worst of all; terribly earnest. lips trailing over your knuckles, against every knot, so soft that you barely feel it. ”my entire world.”

”okay, okay!” you sputter, an embarrassed hue to your cheeks, your gaze landing on the windowpane to your right. his stare is just too heavy, too deeply in love. overwhelming. ”point taken. nevermind.”

suguru laughs, genuine and full. warm and amused, deep and real, and you catch yourself thinking that you don’t want to go a single day without hearing it. even if it’s at your own expense.

a coo rests on his the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back, opting to lean forward instead. he trails the pads of his fingers along your jaw, touch like a butterfly, lifting your chin up ever so slightly. then he closes the distance between you.

in your throat, your breath hitches.

— but he doesn’t kiss you. suguru stops right in front of your lips, so close you can feel his breath on your skin, taking a moment to simply look into your eyes. and despite how flustered the close proximity makes you, you can’t bring yourself to look away. heart fluttering madly, a string of staccatos against your parted ribs.

a tilt of his head. amber eyes gleaming, crinkled and fond. ”can i kiss you, now?” he asks, grinning softly. hand smoothing down your hip, big and warm, teasing. ”i made sure to brush away all the alcohol. or do you still not want to?”

you pause.

”hey, what happened to not remembering anything?” you pout, narrowing your eyes. the corner of suguru’s bottom lip twitches upwards.

but he only shrugs, feigning nonchalance, a playful glint in his eyes. ”guess i was just that disappointed.”

a giggle flows from your lips. he drinks it in, gazing at you with pure contentment.

”alright, alright... c’mere,” you coo, smile honeyed and sweet. tracing your fingertips along his jaw, brushing a silky strand of hair behind his ear. you take in the sight of him, meeting his lovesick gaze. he squeezes at your hips softly, a little impatient — so you finally lean in.

suguru’s lips are warm, when they meet yours. they taste like sunlight, devoid of any alcoholic flavour, just like he so kindly assured you of. and it’s a little amusing, the thought of him in front of the bathroom sink — desperately scrubbing his teeth, just to get his kissing privileges back. such a dork.

he’s your dork, though.

suguru sighs into the kiss, smiling giddily, satisfied at last. a sound you can’t help but mirror. he deepens it, ever so slightly, fingers squeezing gently at the plush of your waist. a hum of approval buzzes in your throat, and his smile only grows.

when he pulls away, that smile is all you can see, along with the ever so slight flush to his cheeks. a hint of peach dusting his skin, framed by the sunrays caressing his jaw, highlighting his handsome features. breathtaking.

before you have a chance to protest, he’s leaning in again, to press one more chaste kiss to your lips. your heartbeat picks up.

everything finally feels just right.

the warmth of the sizzling pan, the fragrance of freshly made coffee and now-burnt pancakes. the light of the morning sun, scattered across the open space of your apartment, splotches of life painting everything in a heavenly glow. the love in the air, all soft and light and comfortable.

domestic bliss. with suguru, who never seems to change, no matter how many years go by. if you could live in this moment for the rest of your life, forever and ever, you’re sure you’d die happy.

and wow, is that a heavy word. forever.

(but suguru makes it feel so very, very light.)

forever feels a lot more real, like this. cradled in the midst of a drowsy morning, bumping elbows with the man you love most, after getting to take care of him in his most vulnerable state. accepting every part of him, and having him accept you just as fervently.

just this moment alone is worth far more than you could ever comprehend.

suguru, with his warm hands, his familiar embrace. your shared laughter, bouncing off the walls of the kitchen as you try in vain to save your scorched pancakes. and his smile, his fervent devotion, coaxing him into eating them even though they’re burnt at the edges and don’t taste even a quarter as good as his. because you made them, for him, and that makes them taste sweeter than anything.

you stare at him, from across the table, admiring the sight you’ve grown so used to; suguru, with his slightly tousled hair, mug in hand and smile painted on his handsome face. drowned in sunlight, pink petals flitting in through the opened window. you don’t want a single day to ever pass without you seeing this. what does that mean, exactly? you think you know.

it means forever.

(forever, forever, forever. what a pretty word.)

marriage. you think of it, again, let it linger in the depths of your skull, bounce around until you grow just a little more used to it. and it’s a scary thought, for sure. a terrifying thought, even, something so foreign that it makes you nervous. but you truly wouldn’t mind doing this forever — not one bit. not if it’s with him.

and, unbeknownst to you, maybe that promise of forever isn’t all that far off.

maybe it’s only a couple rooms away, hidden within the depths of a certain drawer, until suguru finally gets the courage to bring it out. and maybe, just maybe — that day isn’t all that far off, either.

(suguru smiles at you, from across the table. he thinks you look ethereal, sipping from your morning coffee, blinking tiredly. so sweet and angelic.

all he can think of is forever.)

#finalllyyyyyyy took the time to finish this r u proud of me 👉👈#im very very soft for this sugu in particular :< kinda takes place in the same universe as the breakfast sugu fic !!!!#he’s ur smitten husband-to-be <333 i love to see suguru geto thrive and be happy i think being a househusband could save him #geto x reader #geto x y/n #geto x you #jjk fluff #geto fluff #geto suguru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

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skyshadedaylights · 2 years

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cherie-doll · 3 months

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𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Summer With Them

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro, Phillip Graves, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

ׂׂૢ Y’all have no idea how much i hate summer i defrost from vampire to weird nerd -1000 aura points or whatever they’re saying on the clock app

Anyways i finished this while at the laundromat

Ghost

Prefers summer nights to summer days or evenings

Sits on the porch at night with you listening to the cicadas sing

And during this time you can’t take showers together bc he won’t let you adjust the temperature, he takes his showers ice cold

Don’t ask me where I get this from but he vibes with that one Type O Negative song bc according to him it gives “summer” (iykyk)

Prob has sun sensitivity

Cannot leave the house without his sunglasses

And he avoids driving when the sun’s too bright

Soap

Bastard who enjoys summer #1

He likes summer because it means going down to the beach and showing off his muscles that stay clothed under uniform throughout the year

Wants to buy swimming trunks that’ll match your swimwear

He likes joining teens in volleyball and flying kites with kids

Loves going on walks on the beach at dawn and dusk

He once gave you a bad scare when making you think the dolphin fin in the water was a shark

Even if you’re at home he’ll drag you out of bed to join his morning walk and evening walks after dinner

Gaz

He’s content with summer

Will come up with tons of things to do

Picnics he prepares every weekend

Cloud watching

Catching fireflies in a jar and setting them free all at once to see them glow

Running his fingers through your hair as the breeze blows

Making lemonade together to stay cool outside

Buys a vintage camera to take lots of pics of you

On every evening walk you take together he picks something small like a leaf or flower and saves it

At the end of the season he gets everything together and creates a page in his scrapbook

Alejandro

Bastard who enjoys summer #2

He likes the feel of summer breeze on his bare skin and you look forward to seeing that ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Likes to sleep with the windows open at night

Blasts music

Carne asadas

Frequents the local ice cream shops to buy mangonadas

Throughout the entire summer your kitchen has fruits of all kind that he eats with tajin

Will take you for a drive around in his truck and then find a quiet little spot like a lake or mountain to park and sit on the truck bed watching the sky

Phillip Graves

Sits outside with sunglasses on and beer in hand

Calls for you to come out and sit with him to watch the sunset

Cookouts

Anytime you complain of the heat you better hope he’s not around to yap your ear off about some anecdote from when he was a child

“It’s hot” “Ain’t that hot” he responds whilst his face is sunburned bc he refuses to wear sunscreen

Will only wear sunscreen if you are able to catch him before he goes outside and apply it for him

Keegan

It seems like summer evenings are the perfect time to do stuff

For some reason likes to do things shirtless in summer: yard/garden work, mowing the lawn, washing the car..

You set up a chair on the porch to watch him

Falling asleep on a soft patch of grass under the shade of a tree

Will start a bonfire and sit around it with you for hours into the late hours of the night

Sometimes you’ll stay out so late with him that both of you fall asleep

König

He’s not fond of summer

Would prefer to stay inside but if you want to he’ll go out as well

Sprawls on the floor with the fan on

He’ll drive where you want to go and then sit in the car watching you

Prob keeps ice packs in a cooler to keep cool when going outside for a long time

He’d rather be outside when the sun starts to set and the sky turns orange

Sets up a hammock

Afternoon naps on the hammock with the gentle sway of the wind

Horangi

He likes summer and prepares for it

Just imagine him getting out a little backpack with a sunhat, sunglasses, sunscreen, water bottle, umbrella, cooling sleeves, etc…

That’s not for him tho that’s for you he puts on sunglasses and is good to go

During summer he loves going to markets and buying fruit bc that’s when it’s best

Lots of strawberries, grapes and tangerines

Constantly reminds you to wear sun protection

He likes being outside a lot actually and will take you to his favorite parks and places to hike

Nikto

The change of seasons does not affect him much

He’ll notice the change of weather one day and mention how much warmer it is

“It’s summer” “Oh, we should go camping soon…”

He’ll take you camping whether you like it or not insisting that you will like it

Sets a tent near the river to catch fish

He also likes to plant vegetables during the nice weather and bring them to you, proudly showing off his hard work rewarded

He likes to cook meals together and eat outside

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ghostofhyuck · 4 months

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NCT Dream as the type of boyfriend to...

Mark Lee ; ride scary rides for you even though he doesn't like it.

Mark's not a huge fan of scary ride while you're an adrenaline junkie. When you two decided to have an amusement park date, Mark knows that he is bound to ride those scary rides like viking, roller coaster, and space shuttle. You told him that it's okay if you two wouldn't ride those and just enjoy the rides that he can tolerate but Mark wants you to enjoy the date! (it's a waste of money too lol) that's why even if he can feel his soul leaving out his body, he'll be happy to join you in the fun, if it'll make you happy!

Huang Renjun ; carries all your necessities in his bag.

In the relationship, Renjun's the big bag and you're the small purse. You always justify that all you need is your phone, wallet, and a small tinted balm. BUT Renjun knows that's not the case. So he brings all the necessities that you needed. It started raining? He has an umbrella. Oh, you feel so hot? He has a mini fan. You need a tissue? Yeah, he has a huge roll in his bag. His bag is like Doraemon's pouch, and although it's kinda heavy, he doesn't mind as long as he has everything that you need. <3

Lee Jeno ; brings you home whenever your energy is low during a gathering.

"Do you want to go home?" is the first thing Jeno will say to you. Both being introverts, Jeno understands whenever your social battery deflates a few hours later in a gathering. While he can hold it further than you, Jeno wants to make sure that he's not the only one who's having fun. SO if he sees you tired, quiet, and on your phone, he knows that your energy is low. Even if it means cutting the gathering short, Jeno is fine with it. What matters is you. He'll bring you home even if you insist you're fine, but in the end, you'll thank your lover for bringing you home early.

Lee Donghyuck ; gives you space whenever you're having a hard time.

Haechan knows when you're in a bad mood. He knows it by the way you enter the apartment without greeting him, the way you removed your shoes aggressively, and going straight to your room and slamming the door loudly. Haechan doesn't get mad whenever you ignore him because he knows that your emotion is just all over your head and you don't want to vent your anger to him. That's why he'll give you space for you to cool down. Letting you inside your room or just giving you a quiet assurance that he's there. Once you're all calm down, you'll go to him and apologize for your behavior, but Haechan only hushes you with a hug and ask you what's wrong.

Na Jaemin ; brings his jacket so that you won't get cold.

Jaemin's the warm person while you're the colder one. So the tendency is that you get cold easily! Just even the cold temperature of the night can give you shivers. That's why Jaemin always make sure that he has his jacket with him. Sometimes he wears it even though he's sweating under his shirt but most of the time, he just carries it by his hands. You probably had a collection of Jaemin's sweater and jacket in your closet because of the many times you brought it home but always forgetting to give it back to him. (He's okay with it fortunately.)

Zhong Chenle ; lets you do the silliest thing in public.

Chenle always puts a cool image in public. So casual with the shades and hands in his jeans pocket while you're just as unhinge as you can be. You tend to let your intrusive thoughts win that's why you always do the silliest things in public. Like doing a tiktok trend in public, although Chenle isn't the type to do it publicly, he'll be willing because you want to! Plus it's a couple tiktok trend so it's also a matter of him to flex you and your relationship with him!

Park Jisung ; try to learn new things for you.

Dates with Jisung is always composed of trying new things. That's how he shows his love for you! You wanted to try clay pottery? Jisung will find an affordable pottery session so that you two can try. You wanted to bake a cake? He doesn't know how but he's willing to research a recipe just so you can try it! He loves it too because he learns new things and hobbies that he may want to indulge furthermore. Plus, you two always rate the new things you two do and how doable it was.

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream fic #nct fic #nct x reader #nct #nct dream imagine #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct dream reactions #nct dream imagines #nct drabbles #nct mark #nct jeno #nct renjun #nct haechan #nct jaemin #nct chenle #nct jisung

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dev1lm4n · 1 year

Text

lesson one: sensitive

ko-fi | series masterlist

pairing: porn star!joel miller x f!reader

summary: under several notable circumstances, mr. miller finally decided that he'd be the best teacher for your first debut into sexual activities. even when all of it is to prepare you for your successful date.

word count: 5.4k (i know.. i went a little crazy on this lol)

warnings: explicit (18+), set in 2013, pre-outbreak, age gap (joel in mid 30's and reader in early 20's), inexperienced but not dumb reader, fingering, he's kinda mean, check umbrella warning on series masterlist

notes: i had so much fun writing this! tbh this one is super filthy compared to the other one so.. forgive me 🤲 COMMENT n REBLOG if u liked it

“I could take you home if you’d like. Pretty girls like you shouldn’t roam the street alone.”

Simon, more commonly referred to as Robotic Class Guy or French Fries, was surprisingly not half as bad as you thought he would be. He had all the height of a man but none of the bulk. From behind he could be easily spotted as someone in their late teens to early thirties, mostly blaming his horrid graphic tee and skinny jeans combo, but when he turned that face was all boy. His caramel hair flopped over his eyes in the way no office worker could get away with and on his wrist were bracelets in woven leather.

At first, you accepted his awkward invite out of spite.

Just to rid yourself of a certain plague festering upon your head, feasting on your brain cells so that you’d think of nothing but Mr. Miller in all his glory. Him with his tight worn-out jeans, spread open enough that you could see a naughty peak of his bulge, while he watched the soccer game. Him with his shirt off, bathing in the summer-induced moisture, while he mowed the front lawn and edged the curb. Him with his thumb parting your lips, looking at you like he’s about to consume you alive, but of course he didn’t.

At least now that Simon came around, you’d have a new port to anchor your boat on.

“No, thanks, I’m alright. My..”

Who was Mr. Miller to you again?

Your.. father? Absolutely not. Even if he’s taken you in as a part of the Miller family, just like how he used to say, you would feel like it’d be morbidly repulsive to deduce him to that particular role. For fuckssake, you stick a finger up your cunt every single week to the thought of him fucking you like one of his girls.

Then would a family friend be better of a word? Or should you just say that he’s a guardian of yours? But that’d be confusing, wouldn’t it? You glanced at your watch, counting the hour and minute hand as if it’d give you a revelation on how to answer Simon’s pop quiz.

“Someone promised to pick me up.”

That sure did sound ominous.

With a promise to leave a message to his cell once you’ve returned home safely, you stepped out of the quaint local restaurant. It was warm outside and you weren’t particularly fond of that. Heat has always been your mortal enemy; something about the musty scent of middle school boys’ armpits after PE class mixed in with the pungent perfumes they use to try and hide it has left you permanently traumatized. Your once-cheery mood had long evaporated along with any semblance of coolness. You tugged at the hem of your sundress, fanning yourself with your hand in a futile attempt to find relief from the stifling heat. This is hell!

Where was Mr. Miller?

Mr. Miller must've read your mind, because a honk quickly resonated. He was on the very corner of the parking lot; his large pickup truck looked hilariously out of place when compared to the array of city cars parked by his side. You swore you could see him grin from behind the shaded tint of his window, perhaps entertained at your almost too obvious annoyance. The thought made your heart jump and maybe even did a front-flip. God, you’re helpless!

As you beelined down the sidewalk and on to him, the heat seemed to intensify with every step. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead, causing your hair to stick in weird shapes. You just hope that his truck’s AC works.

“Hi.. Hi, Mr. Miller.”

“Hey, sweetheart. How was it?”

The nickname never ceased to exude so much power. ‘Sweetheart’ made you feel as if a tail had grown out right from the hilt of your ass and you had no other choice than to swish it around excitedly. You propped up one leg on the washed-off gray carpet, before swinging yourself into the vehicle in one go. The door closed behind with a loud thud. As you leaned back, you cringed at the feeling of your sweat-soaked dress clinging onto your skin. You felt like some marinated beef, sticky and in need of a quick shower.

“It was alright,” you hummed.

“Alright? Now that made me all the more curious,” he grinned, nudging your side with the edge of his elbow. “Com’on now. Tell me all about it, will ya?”

“Mr. Miller, are you trying to embarrass me?”

Mr. Miller’s soothing brown eyes that were stuck on the glittering street lights came flickering over to you, as if he’s actually afraid that perhaps he’s made you uncomfortable. His shoulders squared and his jaw slackened for just a split second as he tried to grasp for any nuance you’ve just given. You then smiled at him, relieving him of his worries.

It’s a little jarring to say that you think he’s quite cute. In the same way people find puppies cute, or those strawberry-shaped trinkets. He’s a little socially-awkward in his own way. Embarrassed to ask the waitress to bring his plate back, but would be confident bullying his cock into a tight cunt. Would definitely get kooky when asked to join a parents-teacher conference, but would whisper filthy things on the internet.

“I ain’t tryna make you embarrassed,” he huffed out. “I just wanna know you’re safe.”

How nice. If only he knew why you went on dates in the first place.

“He’s alright, Mr. Miller. Kind, decently groomed, respectful,” you replied, flicking through your Twitter feed mindlessly. “Better than most college guys.”

“Did he pick you up?”

Your forehead scrunched up. “I ordered a cab.”

“Did he at least get the door for you?”

“It’s not exactly the 1900’s, is it?” you quipped back at him.

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for your answer.

“If you’re that curious, then no.”

“Well then, did he pay for dinner?”

“No, well.. I did offer for us to split it,” you reasoned.

“Well, sweetie, he’s not too respectful. Is he?”

“Yeah.. but he’s cute.”

He’s cute and you’re desperate to get over Mr. Miller. Terribly so. At first, the entire situation with having your pornstar crush be the head of your host family was hilarious, it’s a joke written by itself. But then the desires went through the roof in a matter of weeks and you’re sure that you’d actually jump him one of these days. He’s attached to the back of your mind like some ghostly presence. Everything he said and done carved at your brittle wall of determination and one day it’s all going to fall apart like broken glass. You needed to stop it from happening.

There was a minute or so where he didn’t have anything to say. He hadn’t let go of the handbrakes either, though he appeared to be squeezing the leather cover of the steering wheel tighter.

“Cute ain’t enough for a man, sweetheart.”

Mr. Miller finally pushed down the handbrakes and released the pickup truck from the small parking lot. His large hands skillfully turned the wheels to fit through the tiny gaps, guiding the vehicle towards the open road. You shut your eyes for a good minute, then you let out a weighted sigh. Almost as if you’re a deflated balloon.

The drive was going to be a long one, considering the restaurant you’re on was in the heart of the town and Mr. Miller’s humble abode was more towards the outskirts. Would he continue preaching about the importance of Southern manners and being a gentleman? Because if he did, perhaps you’d just shut him up with a kiss.

“I’m just a little nervous,” you broke the silence.

“Because of the boy?”

“Sorta, yeah. It’s my first time..”

You clicked your phone shut, stuffing it on the cup holder next to the car stick. The entire conversation was making you nauseous. You had to press on the button on your left to slide down the windows in order to take in fresh air. Through the open window, a gentle breeze tousled the top of your hair, carrying with it the familiar scent of Summer in Austin. As he drove closer into the outskirts of town, the lights gradually faded behind into a sea of twinkling stars.

“First time in what?”

“In all this,” your hand motioned the idea abstractly.

“You’ve never dated?”

An enthusiastic grin snaked its way to his lips.

“I have! But it’s not- it’s not real. It’s middle school romance. We meet each other in the hallways, hold hands and giggle about it, then go on pizza dates,” you tried to explain. “I’ve never dated properly.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” you tousled your hair in frustration. “Just because, Mr. Miller. I’m not sure either. Maybe I’m just comfortable in my own little bubble?”

“Then this boy.. What’s his name again?”

“Simon.”

“Right, Simon. Are you thinking of dating Simon properly?”

“Maybe,” you muttered.

“Maybe I could teach you,” he paused. “Well, that is if you’d like this old man to teach you old tricks.”

Your hands tightly clutched the edge of your seat. A rise of bile disturbed your throat's peace as a knot of anxiety started to form in your stomach. This is what you’re working towards.

You didn’t want to admit it, because admitting means legitimizing what you had in mind, but you were hoping for him to offer you help in any way that he felt was right. Despite your.. odd relationship with him, he was your guardian and you’ve seen the way he dealt with all Sarah’s problems with soft-spoken words and fair actions. You trusted him to help you delve into this new world of adult romance, but it’s not like you’re expecting for him to agree on it. Shit, shit, shit! You couldn’t think straight.

“Com’on then. Tell me what you’re so nervous of.”

“You’re gonna laugh at me,” you groaned.

“I’m not!”

“You are,” you persisted.

“Fine. I promise not to laugh.”

You took a deep breath. The single word sticky on the end of your tongue.

“Sex.”

The pickup truck swerved.

To your surprise, instead of howling and laughing at your lack of experience, he was quiet. Awfully so to the point where you think you’d rather have him laugh at your patheticness instead of giving you the cold shoulder. You rolled the window back up, giving him your full attention as you waited for him to do something. He looked tense; the grip he had on the steering wheel was so tight you could see the leather developing crescent-shaped marks. What was he thinking of?

“Do I.. do I have to give you the talk?”

“God, no! Mr. Miller, I’m not clueless,” you looked horrified that he even considered giving you the birds and the bees talk. “I am, but I know what happens.”

The hours you’ve spent analyzing each and every one of his videos surely made an impact on how you view sex. Perhaps not the most accurate one, since you were merely looking through a 720p video and not being present in the scene, but you knew how sex goes. How it starts, what arousal looks like, what appears to feel good and what doesn’t, and how good an orgasm looks like when induced by another person. Mr. Miller might not be aware of how much he’s taught you. Not directly, but in a cause-and-action kind of way.

“Then what are you afraid of?” he hummed.

“Making a mistake,” you muttered dejectedly. “Of it not feeling good.”

A beat passed.

“Do you..” he struggled to speak properly. “Do you want me to teach you?”

What were you thinking! It was one thing to harbor intense, disgustingly filthy feelings towards a man who perceived you as an addition to his family, but it was another thing to act on it desperately. Your mind reeled back towards the exact moment when you agreed on his proposition. How you agreed on it instantly as if it wasn’t even a question, how you nodded your head miserably as if you were afraid that you’d miss this one chance, how you buckled your knees at the thought.

God, how pathetic can you be! You didn’t remember much after such a cathartic turn of events. All you managed to compile in that pretty little head of yours was that he took a different interchange, then slipped onto a highway towards.. whatever this place was.

It was on the outskirts of town. Opposite to where he lived. Big trees grew tall and heavy as they provided a mystique veil for the trailer house. You remembered the shade of peeling paint covering the outside, sky blue. The lanterns provided ample lighting for it to be spotted from a distance, but not enough to attract rowdy attention. Mr. Miller told you to come inside first while he secured his pickup truck properly. He mentioned a thing or two about racoons or squirrels, but you were too high off adrenaline to even notice. Being in the property, you instantly knew where you were.

This was his lair.

Where he shoots his videos, where he invites all his pretty co-stars to make them moan and whimper about how good his cock felt and how deep it went, where he edits those striking millennial-core thumbnails. Your throat grew dry and you began to think if it’s time to bail. He’d understand, wouldn’t he? Mr. Miller would just take you home and forget about it. Then, by next summer, you’d be out of his hair and he’d never even think about it.

A creak sounded from the front door. You jumped.

“Hi, sweetheart. You okay?”

You nodded. Your entire body went cold, especially the tips of your fingers and toes as you saw him come close. One step at a time. Almost as if he’s trying to make sure he doesn’t scare you too much. Mr. Miller looked awfully big up close. You never seemed to notice this entirely when you see him around the house, but when he’s confined in this miniscule trailer house, he looked massive. His presence towered over every last bit of your confidence. It’s surely crumpling - your confidence - slowly dissipating into thin when he was flushed against your chest.

“I’m okay, Mr. Miller.”

He pulled a foldable chair from one of the open compartments, before taking a seat on it. He spread his legs, as always, and had this look in his eyes.

“You sure you wanna do this?” he paused, before resuming. “You could tell me you don’t feel like doin’ this anymore and I could take you home. Won’t talk about it anymore if you don’t wanna.”

“I.. I want to do this, Mr. Miller.”

“Are you sure? There ain’t no pressure in this. I’m simply here to help you, sweetheart, so if you feel like-”

“I get it, okay, I get it. I trust you. A lot. And I know you’d be the best person to teach me.”

What were you even saying? This was straight out of your wildest wet dreams and perhaps that’s why you’re so adamant about it. You watched silently as he contemplated his choices. Mr. Miller scratched his beard for a short while, his gaze focused beyond you and you could almost watch in real-time how his morals and values crumbled onto the creaky floorboards. He stood up from his small chair and headed right towards where you were standing idly. Is this what May felt like in those videos?

“Alright, sweetheart. I ain’t a vocal man so this is gonna be challenging even for me,” he chuckled gruffly. “Every man has their way of settlin’ with their ladies, but I like ‘em stripped off their clothing first. So will you be a pretty thing and do that for me?”

For a second, you were as still as a rock. Entirely not used to having the person who initiated many if not all of your orgasms giving you these orders in real life. He’s right there in front of you, flesh and bones, telling you to strip off your clothing. It felt like a fever dream. You must’ve had a weird look on your face, because a grin started to form on those chapped lips of his.

Conscious of the mistake, you quickly reacted. Almost skittishly in a way as you pulled on the zipper that’s located on your right ribs. Your fingers fumbled with one another, as if it’s been braided into one, but you managed to loosen it after a few attempts. You slipped your right arm under the spaghetti straps, before you slipped the other one. The only thing holding your modesty together was your one arm that’s holding onto the support-less front flap of your sundress.

“Com’on now. It’s just me. You can act shy and adorable around Simon, but not this old man,” he teased.

You nodded, hesitantly letting your arms fall to the side. The terribly warm weather encouraged you not to wear a bra. Although you wondered if 3 PM you knew that you’re going to be engaging in some promiscuous agenda this evening. You looked up into his eyes for some kind of guidance, in which he responded with a curt nod, before you tugged on the dress so that it’d slide onto the floor.

Now the only piece of modesty you’re wearing is your plain white panties. Your breasts were entirely exposed, cold nipples firming up as it reacted to the change of temperature. This is embarrassing! Mr. Miller was being incredibly methodical in the ways in which he approached the situation, lacking sloppy mouthy kisses and feverish touches.

“Smart girl,” he complimented, almost on instinct. “Let’s get on the bed, yeah?”

You moved adjacent to him. Mr. Miller was gentle when he patted the spot next to him, allowing you to settle down properly while he fixed a pillow behind your back. To think that you’re positioned on the same bed where you’ve witnessed him please an array of girls made you feel some sort of way. A hitch in your heart, a twitch in your hole. You’ve never witnessed him this gentle. He’s always fond of establishing the power he held on the dynamic he’s presented, always telling girls what to do in quick succession and calling them humiliating names if they fail to do as told. With you, he was sweet and rather funny.

“In my experience, one of the things girls like the most is to be withdrawn from control,” he spoke up into the thick air. You didn’t miss the way his eyes cruised along your beaded nipples, or the way it watched you with feral precision. “Of course, it depends on the person. But you. I think you’re a sensitive one, are you?”

You nodded obediently.

“Cross your arms behind your back,” he ordered and watched closely as you followed suit. “Lean back onto the pillow.”

You copied his order. Only then did your finicky brain finally compute that you’re limited off your movements now. With your body weight acting like paper weight for your arms, it’d be impossible for you to react in quick time.

“Good girl.”

His mindless comment made you tighten your thighs together.

“I’m gonna touch you, okay?” he whispered gently. You could watch how he’s slowly approaching you with much caution. His arms caged you in as it dug into the tangled sheets next to you. He’s testing the currents, making sure you’re fully consenting to the experience before he makes any mistake that might ruin your perception of sex. “Ask your little friend to touch you slowly. None of that frisky aimless touching. If he pulled on your nipples and called it a day, I’d leave his ass.”

This little routine he had, the one Wicked Fantasies had, was memorized into your head and to watch it take place right in front of you made you ecstatic. He caressed the side of your face. Gently even with those big, large fingers of his, he managed to take up a good portion of your cheek. Mr. Miller then made his way to your lips. He swiped it once over your upper lip, then another time over your thicker bottom lip. You’d anticipate for him to stick his thumb in deep enough so that he could see your uvula properly, but he didn’t. Instead, he settled on pressing down your tongue as if to pin it against the lower floor of your mouth. A good amount of saliva was collected that when he pulled away, a lewd string remained intact.

“Do you know why I like pinning a girl’s tongue down?” he queried to increase comfort in a way.

“No,” you whispered breathlessly. “Why?”

“It makes ‘em docile,” he muttered. “Encourages submission and I like a pretty girl who listens.”

Mr. Miller’s fingers dragged through the curves and texture of your warm skin, leaving goosebumps on his wake, before he finally reached your two perky nubs. Each one hardened before he could give them the treatment they both deserved, which in a way broke his routine, but instead of being irritated, he appeared to be pleased.

Girls in his videos weren’t as sensitive as you. They didn’t get riled up just by a little touching and teasing. Seeing you like this was a refreshing touch. One that made the wrinkles on his forehead ripple as his eyebrows quirked. He circled his calloused finger around where the pigmentation started. Once, twice. Right until he was merciful enough to press against the apex of your nipples.

You squirmed.

“So sensitive, are you?” he cooed. “Tell Simon to play with your sensitive little nipples, hm? You look like you could cum just by this.”

“O-oh please!”

“Please?”

You couldn’t respond. Not when he’s rolling the most sensitive part of your nipples between the pads of his thumb and the side of his pointer finger. Touching your breasts with your own nimble hands felt nothing like what he’s doing right now. You instinctually grinded your leaking pussy down onto the bed, almost like an animal in heat.

“Poor thing couldn’t even tell me what she wants. What would Simon think, hm? A girl with no self control like you,” he hummed. Mr. Miller quickly held onto your thighs so that you’d stop rocking onto the bed and getting off from pleasure he’s not offering. Your eyes met his, searching for help, but the sweet and respectful Mr. Miller wasn’t there anymore. “Alright now, sweetheart. You have ta make sure that you’re thoroughly aroused before thinkin’ of even touchin’ this place.”

“You’re new at this,” he hummed. His fingers slipped off the hold he had on your nipples before it slid down your stomach and settled precisely above your clothed clitoris. “It’s gonna hurt bad if you’re not properly lubricated. Sex is supposed to be fun, not painful so if some guy tells you that it’s supposed to hurt, don’t listen to his dumb shit.”

Mr. Miller was incredibly informative if you put aside the fact that he’s touching you in all the right places that it’s making you go dumb. He spent the time explaining why an action must be provided and how to perform it, when you know for a fact that this is not what he’s used to doing. Wicked Fantasies was known to be straight with words, using minimal sentences to provide his co-stars with just the right amount of information. You could tell he’s holding back the urge to be meaner, to act the way he likes, just for you to be more comfortable.

“Let’s take a look, shall we? You think I did a good job, darlin’?”

It’s dark out. There’s only one source of light that’s present in the room. A small bedside lamp in the shape of an elephant, Sarah’s favorite animal that’s grown to be yours as well. This session with him felt intimate; you’d expect for him to bring out the bright light panels and reflectors just like in those videos you watched of him, but instead, he mostly depended on the moonlight rays.

You were acutely aware of how those dark eyes of his mirrored your own. The way he studied you was unlike any other, not with an invasive intent, but rather with heed. You watched as he hooked his fingers on each side of your panties. Slowly dragging it down, only to stop to wait for you to ease your thighs upwards.

“Look at you,” he chuckled. “I’m right about you bein’ sensitive. Don’t think we need any lube when your pussy looks like this.”

By instinct, you brought your thighs together, shy that he’s observing you with such vulgar intensity. He hummed out a tone of disapproval and quickly placed his arms on both of your knees, prying the two apart as if he’s opening a stubborn can of bolognese. You bit your bottom lip, stifling the noise of embarrassment.

Anxiety bubbled up inside of you. You wondered if you looked okay down there - no other men had seen it besides him! - or if there was something strange that caused him to halt. There was a lewd string of sticky arousal pooling on the center of your panties. You silently watched as it stretched and broke as Mr. Miller pulled the thin fabric away.

“You’re soaked, sweetie,” he teased.

“Mr. Miller, that’s- that’s embarrassing..”

“You like to touch yourself, don’t you?”

Your eyes flickered towards his direction in fear. Has he discovered your incurable obsession for him and his erotic videos? That couldn’t be, could it? There’s no scientific correlation between being extremely aroused with masturbation as far as you’re aware, but the confidence he exude made you doubt yourself. Mr. Miller moved in a painfully slow tempo, taking his time to caress your inner thighs and stomach before even considering touching you where it ached. His calloused fingers felt different against your skin. It left a fiery trail in its wake.

“No, I don’t,” you lied with a breathless squeak.

“It’s okay if you like to touch yourself, y’know,” he whispered as if taunting you. “Girls who like to touch themselves understand themselves better.”

Mr. Miller finally touched you properly. His pointer finger probed against your clitoris, touching in the lightest feathery manner possible that you couldn’t have felt it if you weren’t concentrating. Your hips followed the brief source of pleasure, only to be disappointed when you notice that he wasn’t there. He pulled his finger close to his mouth and made a big show out of it. The way your arousal glistened under the pale moon rays, Mr. Miller teased you with his expressions and mannerism. He dipped the stained finger in his lips to have a good taste while keeping eye contact.

“Please touch me.”

“What was that, sweetheart?” he hummed.

“Please touch me again. It feels go-”

You were cut off immediately when he lazily drew a perfect circle on top of your hooded clit.

“Fuck, please, please, sir.”

Ah, he liked that. He liked the new name you’ve granted him. Mr. Miller was kind enough to resume what he was doing. His finger descended down onto your throbbing hole to gather a good amount of slick before he brought it up to aid his ventures.

“The best way to feel good is controlled pleasure. It feels better to be denied than to receive boring continual pleasure, so..” he paused his movement all together. “I’m gonna teach you a little game.”

“A little game..” you sounded like you’re about to cry from his sudden withdrawal.

“Count to ten, properly. Then I’ll reward you with more. If you fail, then we gotta start from the very beginning,” he explained. His warm breath fanning over your sensitive clit. “You think you can do that, pretty girl?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll start now.”

“One, two..”

You felt how he made his laps around your nub. It was much more intense than the pleasures you’ve initiated before. Compared to rutting against a pillow, grinding against a bedpost, or laying under the tub’s running water, this felt like an entire new experience. You fought to keep still, but it’s gradually getting harder when his finger starts prodding against your tight little hole.

“Three, four. Please, Mr. Miller. Oh god,” you whimpered by accident. He didn’t like that one bit by the look he gave you. There weren’t rules and promises to this, no dynamic the two of you have agreed on, but you couldn’t help but be terrified of his disapproval. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, sir.”

“From the start,” he ordered.

“One, two, three..”

You could barely remember the numbers in your head despite encountering them almost every day of the week. You’re a smart girl, knows your ways around things, but being touched by Mr. Miller makes you go all dumb.

“Four, five, six..”

Your thighs began to twitch and spasm. You catched the way he pulled back the hood to your clit to get a more direct touch. It was working wonders as the sensation now is a lot more electrifying. Arousal dribbled down your twitching hole and onto the crack of your rear, wetting the sheets beneath you with the sticky clear substance.

“Seven, eight, n- nine!”

You jutted your hips out when his fingers brushed over your clit once more, the sensitive bundle of nerves extra aware of his presence, and he managed to hold you back once more. He’s forgiving. You knew he’d punish his co-stars if they couldn’t stay still like you, but he let this one slide. He continued rubbing slow, tight circles only to alter into an eight shape.

“Ten.”

The ultimatum. It has arrived, your key to heaven.

“Smart girl,” he cooed, never actually stopping. “This little hole of yours looks neglected, hm?”

“Yes, pleasepleaseplease.”

“Touch your clit slowly like I taught you,” he ordered. “You can do that can you, sweetheart?”

You nodded, distraught and ruined. With his sweet permission, you pulled one arm out from your back and rested it right above your clit. Slow and steady. Just like how he ordered. Mr. Miller on the other hand was slicking up his pointer finger with his tongue. Fuck, that looks so god damn hot.

He had pressed his sole finger deep into your warmth with no hesitation whatsoever. The combination of his calloused finger against your walls and the golden freckles inside his narrowed irises had you reaching out for his forearm. Your nails came in contact with his skin as you dug upon it, crescent shapes formed in pinkish shades atop his skin. You had to sit up as the only way you’re getting through this is by leaning on his sturdy arm.

“Oh, you like that, huh? Filthy girls like you love to get their holes filled?”

What you didn’t expect was having him press a second finger in. His one finger was thicker than what you’re used to, but two fingers? That makes you an overachiever for sure. You looked up to meet his eyes frantically. You knew he wouldn’t be kind enough to withdraw the action when his mind is already set on it, but it was worth the try. He cocked his head arrogantly as he pursued his plans. Mr. Miller’s middle finger was a tight fit. Barely able to slip past the ring of muscles. Though when he did manage to get himself in, a loud moan escaped your lips.

“Mr. Miller. I can’t- I’ve never- never taken two fingers!”

“I know you can do it, sweetheart,” his free hand went over to run over your sweaty hair, admiring every inch of you. “You wanna please that boy, don’t you? Little Simon?”

He was skillful with his fingers, perhaps from his job requirements. Although it’s still incredible how he managed to have you squirming, yelling how you’re about to cum in a matter of seconds. All he did was switch between pumping the two in you, creating the filthiest sounds, and reaching upwards to hit that certain spot of yours. You rubbed your clit with much concentration as you followed after his thrusts.

“Mr- oh.. Mr. Miller! I’m gonna cum, sir.”

“You’re gonna do that for me?” he grinned, pushing his fingers into you as deep as they could go. He maintained a steady pace, emphasizing pressure on that spongy spot up top that you’ve never managed to reach with your stubby fingers. “Pretty girl gonna cum from my fingers?”

“Yes, yes.. sir. Please.”

“Cum for me, darlin’” he whispered. “Show me how good you can be.”

Oh god, you're in a lot of trouble.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #tlou #tlou x reader #the last of us x reader #the last of us #tw age gap

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mysouleaten · 4 months

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DOC AND BOSS pt.one

mafia boss! izana x doctor! reader

summary ... finding an injured member of the tenjiku yakuza hiding in an alleyway beside your apartment you decide to help... not knowing he's the one in charge..

warnings ... blood, and bullets??

an ... sooo this was inspired by DEAD GIRL'S BEACH by @kokoch4n3l but this fic is a lot more fluff... lol and inspired by an undertake fic I read a long time ago Bedside Manners and Guns by @absurdmageart .... :)

tenjiku was one of the biggest yakuza's that ran tokyo they were second compared to toman

but still one of the biggest when it came to land and property and one of their properties was your apartment-- your home

most who lived in this apartment building paid their bill to tenjiku, as they were the ones who kept this building from being destroyed by the government and leading to you being homeless

you were very grateful for the fact they protected this apartment building... it was the cheapest and the closest to your job and university

around 8:45pm you finally were able to leave your job and drive back in the rainy night, ready to get in your comfort outfit and watch crime moves for the rest of the night and maybe order some yellow rice and soup to eat while you watch....

finally parked in front of your building and looking outside the window to see the harsh rain pouring down

you can only imagine how cold it is outside your warm car...

looking behind your driver's seat and reaching for your umbrella to fight back the pouring rain from soaking you

"alright.. let's just hope I don't get completely soaked through.."

quickly opening the car door and rushing to open the umbrella over you, shutting the door and pressing onto your car key to hear the 'beep!' of the car locking

blowing a breath you start to carefully walk towards the stairs that lead to your apartment, careful not to slip and bust your ass on the pavement

hearing a loud groan made you freeze in place and hearing another over the rushing rain made you tense again before you quickly walked up the stairs and ran into your apartment... you weren't risking any horror movie shenanigans..

putting your bag down onto the bench under your coat hanger

turning your head toward the door and the guilty conscience starts to eat you up

what if someone was in need of help? you're not a doctor for nothing..

you groan in annoyance and throw your white coat on the floor before taking the raincoat hanging on the coat hanger and quickly putting it on

slamming the door behind yourself and cussing out: "I hate being a damn doctor..!"

hugging your wait to fight the cold rain and carefully walking down the stairs

"hopefully it's just the fucking wind and no one is actually here so I can go take my ass upstairs and--" cutting your rant short when turning the corner and seeing someone laying on the muddy ground

drenched and shivering the person was also groaning in pain

"crap.." you whisper and slowly begin to walk toward the person still being cautious and mindful of who this person you were going to help was

crouching down, careful to not touch the muddy water below

examing the man who was shakily breathing through his mouth and scrunching his eyes shut

his white long hair was muddied up and drenched

you looked down to see him holding his abdomen--blood was soaking his uniform, he was wearing the uniform of a tenjiku leader... craaaaaap...

pulling your phone out of your pocket and covering it from the rain you dial the number but a hand quickly grabs your wrist and tries to shake the phone out of your hand "ACK!!"

quickly standing up and backing away, letting your phone drop near the man

his eyes were a beautiful shade of lavender and they were staring daggers right into your own eyes.. but they softened quickly

you swallow the built-up saliva in your mouth "you've been shot.. you need to go to the hospital" your voice a soft whisper

he shakes his head "no..." no? this man really wants a painful death?

"you-" "you..help me" the man cuts you off

"what!? wait- no! I can't! I don't have the-" your rambling gets cut off with a soft "try" from the man

were you really going to drag a muddy wet mafia man up the stairs and into your apartment?..

you sigh as the man has been staring at you for the past couple of minutes after his 'removing bullets' procedure

he was lying on his back with towels beneath him soaking up the dirty water that dripped off of him, bandages wrapped around his entire abdomen and he was facing his head toward you

he would shiver from the cold and you weren't sure if you wanted to get him a blanket.. and get it soaked.. maybe you should towel him off properly before getting him a blanket

you stood up and began to walk away from the white-haired man that occupied your other couch..

"[name]?... where are you going?.."

you froze, how the hell does he know your name?..

ughhhh i'm not sure how i like this... AHH I WISH I KNEW HOW TO WRITE MY THOUGHTS BETTER....

>:(

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo rev fluff #tokyo revengers izana #izana x reader #izana kurokawa #izana kurokawa x reader

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amirasainz · 5 months

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The avengers of Formula 1

request: Would love to see baby sainz suddenly approached by a male who is not in F1 and suddenly everyone shows up like the avengers to scare him away ❤️❤️❤️

It was a sunny day at the Marina Bay street circuit. It was the first time Amira had ever visited Singapore. One could clearly see how delighted Carlos was to have his baby sister by his side.

As they entered the paddock, the Sainz siblings were surrounded by Carlos’s fellow colleagues. Of course, it was just a coincidence that Lewis, Lando, and Oscar were at the entrance as well. It’s not like they had been waiting there for the past 20 minutes.

As soon as Carlos saw them, he knew what he had to do. “Hermanita, look! There’s a bit of shade. Why don’t you sit down and wait for me for a second? I will come back with an umbrella. We wouldn’t want you to get a sunburn, right?”

“Okay, Chilli,” she answered with a dimpled smile. Carlos swore his heart melted. He leaned down and gave her head a quick kiss. When he turned around, the other drivers were already approaching. After a quick look back at his hermanita, Carlos began to drag those demons away from his darling sister.

“Hey! You can’t just drag me away like a potato sack, you muppet!” Lando complained. Lewis and Oscar followed them like little children.

“Muppet? MUPPET?! You do not get to call me a muppet when you’ve been lurking at the entrance like a… a… como un bicho raro!”

When Lewis and Oscar started to chuckle, Carlos immediately turned to them. “And YOU! How dare you wait for my sister. I expected it from Lando,” “Hey!” “But you two? Unbelievable!”

During their scolding, the quartet was approached by other drivers. Charles was gloating with happiness. For once, he was not on the receiving end of Carlos’s yelling.

After some time, it was George who interrupted Carlos’s yelling. “Oh, what the hell?! Who is THIS idiot?” All the drivers turned to look at what George was pointing at.

There she was. Amira Sainz was talking to a man. A stranger! From far away, they could see the guy trying to flirt with her. But baby girl was that dense and thought he was just a nice guy trying to strike up a conversation.

When he sat down next to her, the other drivers exchanged amused glances. Carlos clenched his fists, ready to intervene if necessary. Little did he know that this chance encounter would change everything.

When he sat down next to her, the drivers saw red. How dare he sit down next to her, talk to her, or even breathe the same air as her?!

Quicker than a Mercedes F1 car, all the drivers sprinted to her side. The air filled with screams of “Oi, Idiote!” and “Hijo de puta!” and “Back the fuck off, dude!”—followed by Oscar’s emphatic “Stranger Danger!”

Imagine Baby Sainz’s surprise. One second she was chatting with the friendly stranger who called her the most beautiful girl in the world, and the next, she was engulfed by her brother and her friends. From the outside, it looked like a massive puppy pile.

While the drivers were busy scolding the man (and ensuring he’d be banned from the track), Carlos raced to Amira’s side. He instantly dropped to his knees and cradled her face in his hands.

“Pobrecito mío. ¿Este idiota te estaba molestando? ¿Estaba siendo grosero? ¡Oh, Santa María, estás tan pálida!” During Carlos’s rapid-fire rant, she just stared at him with wide eyes. When she made a confused noise, he immediately stood up, took his sister’s hand, and led her toward the parking lot.

“Oh, my poor hermanita. I’m so sorry. Let’s go shopping and grab something to eat. That must have been really scary!”

With that, the Sainz siblings left the track and headed to the nearest high-fashion shop.

As for the man? Well, let’s just say he vanished from the racing scene—never to be seen on any track again. 😇

Let me know what you thought about this littles piece. My request are OPEN. I will try to update as soon as possible💕

-XoXo

@barcelonaloverf1life @omgsuperstarg @formula1mount @xoscar03 @stinkyjax @khaylin27 @iamapersonwholikesunicorns @tinyhrry

#charles leclerc x reader #george russell x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #lando norris x reader #carlos sainz x sister!reader #baby!sainz!sister #oscar piastri x reader

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ohimsummer · 10 months

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SATORU, your muse ｡˚✐~

— Satoru eases open the door of the house. You’re not home, so he doesn’t feel the need to make his usual grand entrance. Shoes are left at the door, jacket on the rack, and Satoru makes way to the bedroom. Once inside, something on your nightstand immediately catches his eye.

It’s your sketchbook; a now worn, leather notepad that he’d bought you months ago after the old one was filled. You rarely, if ever, let him see your artwork, so Gojo would usually resort to peeking over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of what you were working on. He always teased you for keeping your art a secret, but now that he has a chance to look at your projects uninterrupted, he hesitates. For a second.

Satoru flips open to the first page. It’s just random doodles of flowers and animals, ones he recognizes from the garden in the park you two frequent. The next page warrants the same mundane results: bugs and trees and the tops of skyscrapers and whatever random things that would grab your interest while you two enjoyed the heat of the sun.

The next page catches Gojo by surprise. It’s a bird, but not just any bird, he realizes. It’s a songbird, one he’d half-heartedly pointed out to you one day because he recalled reading about it online. You weren’t even listening to him, or so he’d thought. It’s kind of endearing actually that you’d take the time to draw it. And it’s not just the bird, either. It’s the macaroons he’d mentioned wanting to get one evening, a bouquet consisting of a flower Gojo’d randomly plucked and presented to you, a familiar pair of sunglasses resting in grass, dabbed over top with faded blue watercolor paint. Numerous doodles of such small memories.

Satoru continues flipping to look at your little illustrated photo album. Some of these drawings are of stuff he barely remembers talking about, like a cracked open piggy bank obviously referencing a story he told you in passing. Gojo doesn’t even remember why he brought it up, but you’ve immortalized it here in your sketchpad with pencils and ink.

The drawings only grow more detailed as he gets deeper into the book, and a proud smile stretches across Satoru’s face at your talent. Rapid sketches of buildings and passerby evolve into self portraits of yourself, and he thinks you look so captivating in all of them. Gojo takes note of the silly doodles of even himself in the margins of the paper. Him in his sunglasses, him wearing the flower crown you’d poorly put together, him surrounded by ice cream and candy and the plethora of sweets he so enjoys. His favorites are the inane drawings of you two together, tiny and inhabiting multiple corners of every page. Each one is a delightful surprise to spot.

Satoru turns the next page, and he’s sincerely taken aback. Drawings of eyes, and they all look alike. They’re so detailed, adorned with pretty lashes and shaded so beautifully. He doesn’t have to wonder long on whose eyes these are, the next page bursting with the color blue tells Gojo all he needs to know. He’s glad you’re not here to see his reddening face and the way his breath hitched. This page, the next few actually, are all dedicated to his eyes. They’re inked perfectly, some are at different angles, and you’ve managed to portray emotion into all of them. Satoru wonders if he could draw a picture of you and showcase the absolute adoration in your eyes the way you’ve done with his.

And it doesn’t stop there. Page after page, it’s all Satoru. Him sleeping with a mushed cheek against your chest, him drinking a soda, him looking out the window, him playing the game with Geto, when did you even draw these?

“Satoru?”

He quickly slams the book shut at your call, carefully placing it back on your nightstand and ushering himself from the room. There you are at the door, shaking the rain from your umbrella and leaving it on the mat near the entrance.

“There you are, love.,” you beam at his approaching figure, and Gojo squishes you in a warm embrace. “How was your day?”

Satoru kisses the crown of your head, and grins against your skin. He can’t wait to tell you all about today, maybe give you some more brilliant ideas to memorialize in your sketchbook.

#satoru gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x reader fluff #jjk x reader fluff #jjk fluff #satoru gojo x reader fluff #gojo satoru fluff

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eiightysixbaby · 1 year

Text

blue raspberry syrup

(part 2 to sunscreen and chlorine)

word count: 3.9k

pairing: lifeguard!eddie x fem!reader

summary: a second meeting with your favorite lifeguard after pool hours… what will you get into this time?

cw: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI - SMUT. oral (m receiving), eddie watches reader get herself off, unprotected p in v, creampie, sex in a public place (they’re alone tho), use of pet names, temperature play

author’s note: here she is, finally! hope i did part one justice with this sequel, let me know what y’all think!!

Milky twilight began to fall over the community pool, the sunset casting orange and lilac reflections on the surface of the water. Fireflies flickered on and off in the grass beyond the fence, communicating in their own way. Meanwhile, Eddie busied himself with any task he could think of as he waited for you to return. He took out the trash, cleaned the disgusting bathrooms, washed his hands ten times afterwards, closed all the umbrellas positioned between lounge chairs. Billy had been the last one to leave at 7:30, telling Eddie he ‘better not pull anymore bullshit tomorrow’, and now Eddie finds himself taking a well deserved quick swim in the pool, cooling himself off after a scorcher of a day. One half of the water, the deeper end, is concealed by the pool cover, Eddie having left the shallower end open for use. He submerges himself underwater, propelling himself forward and then coming up to the surface, shaking his hair wildly like a dog. He pulls himself out of the water, hands flat on the concrete as he pushes his body up and out. His swim trunks drip the chlorinated water all around his feet, hitting the pavement in loud droplets. Drying himself off with a towel, he sees headlights pull into the parking lot, hears faint music playing from the car radio. You step out of your car and catch his eye, giving him a wave - the same little delicate wave you directed at him when he first saw you lounging by the pool earlier that day. You have a towel tucked under your arm, and another popsicle in your left hand. Eddie’s head swirls with delight.

You’d been antsy all afternoon after your shower session with Eddie, pacing back and forth around your room at home just trying to distract yourself. The minutes seemed to drag, moving slow like thick honey as you waited for your next meeting time with the lifeguard that made your heart pound. You’d showered and slipped on a different bathing suit, the other one being damp and cold and reeking of chemical water. You forced yourself to gain some sense of composure as you stepped out of your car after arriving back at the pool, unwilling to let Eddie know just how much he’d occupied your brain the last several hours. He beams at you from behind the painted metal fence and you feel butterflies take flight in your stomach.

“You and those damn popsicles,” he laughs, opening the gate to the pool to let you in, still towel drying his hair.

You held the frozen snack at your side, still in the crinkly white wrapper. You try to bite back a smile but ultimately fail. The squeaky metal gate closes behind you, Eddie positioning the latch into place with a clink.

“Thought you liked it, don’t tell me you’re gonna complain if you have to watch me eat another,” you look up at him innocently with round eyes, batting your lashes for effect.

Eddie just rolls his eyes, giving you a dismissive wave as he walks with you towards the water. The heat has dissipated slightly with the gradual nightfall, the intense glare of the sun now faded into a subtle wink. Crickets chirp in the grass, filling the night with sound, a lullaby coaxing the town to sleep. He finds himself sick with adoration as he looks at you, looking so effortlessly perfect. An oversized t-shirt covering you down to your mid-thigh, concealing the swimsuit underneath - he can see where it ties at the back of your neck. You wear white flip flops on your feet, toenails painted a bright shade of purple. The backs of the shoes clap clap clap as you step towards the pool, Eddie’s bare feet padding silently next to them. You lay your striped beach towel down onto the concrete, next to the pool’s edge. Eddie watches your every movement, his heart pounding in his chest. He wants to touch you, to taste you, to feel you all over him.

You sit on your towel, leaning your head to the side to glance up at Eddie. “Well, Munson? What kind of lessons do you have for me?” you ask playfully, itching to get his hands on you.

There’s a pause as Eddie thinks. His eyes trail to the still wrapped popsicle, and then back to you. His face twists into a devious grin. He sits so he’s facing you, legs spread as he gently pulls you to sit between them. He pulls you in for a kiss, forcing back the moan that threatens to break free at the mere contact with your lips. He hears you sigh into him, hands coming up to cup his face. Soft lips move against even softer ones, tongues searching the inside of cheeks eagerly. Your hands tangle in his damp hair, cold droplets covering your skin. When he finally pulls away, he admires your kiss swollen lips, rubbing the pad of his thumb across the bottom one. He picks up the popsicle, slowly working the wrapper off of it, and you eye him curiously.

Eddie holds the stick of the popsicle with one hand, other hand gripping your jaw, pulling your mouth open gently.

“Stick your tongue out, baby,” he murmurs, watching you intently as you oblige.

He presses the popsicle to your tongue, prompting you to suck it past your lips. You take only a little bit into your mouth at first, and Eddie doesn’t seem pleased. He tsks at you, lips forming a slight frown.

“Surely you can take more than that, sweetheart,” he coos, his eyes steady as they observe you.

He pushes the popsicle further past your plush lips, enjoying the way you let it all happen without protest. Less and less of the blue tinted ice is visible the further he coaxes it into your mouth, and your eyes tear up a little as it reaches the back of your throat. The muscles tense, making you gag a little.

“That’s right, honey, choke on it for me. You were such a good girl gagging on my dick earlier, you can handle this too, right?” his voice is almost patronizing, yet it sends shockwaves right to your core, wetness beginning to pool in your bathing suit bottoms.

You pull away for a moment, suddenly the cotton shirt on your body is too much, too heavy on you. You pull it over your head hastily, setting it beside you before turning to face Eddie once more. You open your mouth, sticking your tongue out for him, prompting him to keep going. Eddie groans as you eagerly suck the popsicle, taking all that he gives you without complaint. He pulls it from your mouth suddenly, a soft slurping sound forming as you gather the sticky sweet juice from dripping past your lips. Without warning, Eddie puts the treat in his mouth, blue raspberry syrup coating his tongue. You feel a persistent throbbing between your thighs, watching his sloppy tongue lick remnants of your saliva off of blue ice. It’s not what you expected him to do, but you’ll be damned if you don’t find it fucking hot. He looks at you with heavy lidded eyes, sucking slow on the popsicle, driving you crazy.

You can’t take the teasing anymore, needing more of him, and you grab the popsicle from his hand. You lean into his personal space, getting him to lean back on flat palms. He watches you silently, hears his heartbeat in his ears as you suck the popsicle into your mouth once more, proceeding to pull it back out and kiss his neck with cold lips. He shudders, gasping when you press your cold tongue flat to his warm flesh, licking and nipping at the thin skin. You travel down his body like that, taking a lick of your frozen treat, then putting cold lips and tongue on Eddie’s skin, sucking hickeys into his chest. For the first time, you notice he has a nipple piercing. Just one, two silver balls resting on either side of puckered skin. The metal seems to gleam for you, calling you in. You take it into your mouth, icy tongue teasing the skin and tasting metal. Eddie whimpers, laughing a little when you pull away.

“Just now noticing that, honey?” he asks, pretty teeth on display for you as he smiles.

“I like it,” you reply easily, licking flat across his nipple once more before continuing your journey down.

Eddie knows where this is going, and his body practically vibrates with anticipation. Goosebumps break out on his skin as your mouth finds its way beneath his belly button, mouth kitten licking and kissing over his happy trail. He thinks he may die when you hook your fingers in the waistband of his swim trunks, coolly sucking on your popsicle all the while, getting your mouth nice and cold for him. His dick throbs, begging for attention. You coax the damp fabric down his legs, his cock springing free, curving towards his tummy. Before Eddie can even register it, your mouth engulfs him, cold tongue licking his shaft. Eddie tenses, throwing his head back and letting out a puff of air at the new sensation. A thin ribbon of saliva connects your bottom lip to the head of his cock when you start to pull away, licking up and down the popsicle again, tongue turning more blue with each swipe of it. You suck on the head of Eddie’s weeping cock, hollowing your cheeks out as he moans your name, fingers tangling in your hair. His cock practically aches, every cold press of your mouth against it has his breath catching in his throat, strangled moans escaping his pretty lips. He lets you work your magic for a while bobbing your head up and down, rolling his balls between your fingers.

The popsicle starts to melt where it rests in your free hand, and Eddie takes it from you, sucking on it while you suck on him. You pull off of his cock with a quiet pop, and Eddie grabs your chin, urging you up towards him. He kisses you hungrily, two blue tongues swirling around one another. Eddie stifles a groan, you taste like artificial berries and him and it’s turning him on even more. He’s not gonna let you have him so easily though, oh no, he’s gonna give you a taste of the teasing you gave him earlier. Just as he has you whimpering for him, he pulls away. He walks over to the trash can, bare feet on gritty pavement, tossing the remnants of the popsicle away. Turning back to face you, a grin spreads across his face and he goes running straight for the pool, completely naked, landing in the water with a huge splash. He comes back up for air with a gasp, hair sticking to his forehead.

“Eddieeeeee,” you whine between giggles, toes dangling into the water, watching him as he paddles around. “Need you,” you pout at him. “Now you’re being a tease.”

Your pussy throbs beneath skimpy bikini bottoms, so desperate for him to fill you. You can still taste him in your mouth, briny pre cum lingering in the back of your throat, and you chew on your lip in anticipation.

Eddie looks at you for a moment as he bobs in the water, arms splayed over his rescue tube that he snatched from beside the pool, keeping him effortlessly afloat. He has to hold back a devious laugh when he gets an idea. He paddles closer to the ledge where you sit, pulling the safety equipment from under his arms, holding it out to you.

“Show me how bad you need me, baby. Why don’t you ride that, and pretend it’s me,” he smirks at you, only growing more satisfied when you fail to form words in response, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Go ahead, honey, don’t be all shy now. Grind on it,” Eddie commands, gesturing for you to get on with it.

You delicately wrap your fingers around the safety equipment, GUARD written in bulky white block letters on the side. You straddle the rubbery red tube, one end of the object brushing against your clothed clit as you position yourself. An involuntary moan escapes your lips even at the minimal contact, and Eddie huffs a laugh, face sickeningly smug. Your face heats up instantly, suddenly ten times more aware of his eyes on you, like a specimen under a microscope. Your eyebrows knit together in concentration as you find a comfortable rhythm, riding the slippery material in desperation, dying to soothe the heat between your thighs. Pitiful mewls escape your lips, and Eddie raises his eyebrows at you.

“Oh, feels good, huh?” Eddie says, his tone mocking.

You want to reply with something witty, don’t want to give in this easy, but your core aches and pleads for more. Instead you whimper, wiggling your hips lower to rub across the tube, material dragging underneath your clit. The friction is so good, your hands grabbing desperately at the flat pavement beneath you, seeking purchase on anything and failing to find it. Your hips have found a steady pace, grinding against the spongey edge of the object, hair falling in your face with your head hung low. You moan his name and Eddie instinctively reaches down to palm at his hard cock. He shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as he is, but all he can think about is how he’s going to be using that same equipment during his shift tomorrow, keeping this little secret all to himself. Your cheeks are flushed with arousal yet also a slight twinge of embarrassment as Eddie watches you come undone on a fucking rescue buoy, pretending it’s his muscular thigh you’re riding. You soak the material beneath you as your legs tremble, glancing up at Eddie with pouty lips, silently pleading for him to have his way with you.

“Fuck, honey,” Eddie murmurs, reaching up from the water to brush hair out of your face. “Get in here with me, take everything off,” his eyes are dark as they watch you, standing up on shaky legs.

You shuffle out of your swimsuit bottoms, untying the straps on your top and letting it drop to the ground. You ease yourself into the water, cold touching every inch of your sun soaked skin as you lower your body in. Your feet touch the smooth bottom of the pool, water rising up to your breasts, making you shiver. Eddie pulls you to his chest immediately, naked bodies radiating warmth onto each other in the cool chlorinated liquid surrounding you. Darkness seems to have crept further in now, like a blanket shielding your naked bodies from the rest of the world, keeping these secrets for you. Eddie brushes your hair to one side, kissing and licking at your neck as his hands find their way to the globes of your ass, squeezing.

“Need to fuck you, baby, right here,” he says, voice muffled slightly as he presses kisses to your shoulder.

“You’re sure no one will catch us, right?” you breathe out, voice wavering slightly as his lips tickle your skin.

“It’s just you and me, honey. No one will catch us. Promise,” he’s pulled away from you, looking you straight in the eye so you take him seriously.

And he’s telling the truth. The cops make their rounds nightly, stopping by the pool at 10:30pm on the nose every. single. night. Eddie knows this partly because of several almost-busted drug deals he’s attempted to host late at night in the pool parking lot, and partly from stories he’s heard from other people who’ve tried to have late night swims in private. Given the fact that their whole goal is to catch people doing illegal things, the cops have really become far too predictable, doing their routine runs and making the same stops in the same order over and over. Eddie chuckles to himself as he thinks of this, pulling you even closer to him, giddy with the promise of more time alone with you.

He lifts you slightly and you instantly wrap your legs around his waist. He dips his head down, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth as his hands toy with the fat of your ass. His mouth sucks bruises into the skin around your breasts, teeth biting at the skin just for his tongue to soothe it afterwards. You can feel his cock pressing against you and you squirm in Eddie’s grip, aching to be full of him. His blunt fingernails dig into your skin where he grips you, mouth finding its way up your neck and to your ear, leaving kisses in its wake.

“Want me to fill you up, honey?” his voice rasps in your ear, cold wet hair tickling the side of your face.

“Y-yeah, fuck,” you inhale sharply as he sucks on your earlobe, pulling it gently between his teeth.

He pins you against the side of the pool, your legs still wrapped around him as he attempts to line himself up with your entrance. You finally feel him slip in, both of you letting out heavy sighs at the feeling. You swear you can feel him in your guts by the time he’s fully inside you, and your body feels like it’s going to short circuit from sheer pleasure. He bucks up into you, teeth biting hard on his bottom lip, brows furrowed as he concentrates on making you feel good. Water ripples around you with every movement, sloshing gently around your partially submerged bodies. Your fingernails claw at the soft skin of his back, sure to leave scratches on the otherwise empty canvas. Eddie’s barely keeping himself together as he fucks you, his pace less brutal than round one in the shower, but you feel too good around him and he finds it hard to will himself not to cum so soon. You’re so tight around him, so warm, and every time your muscles clench he’s cursing under his breath. You lean your head forward, resting it on his shoulder, incredibly grateful for Eddie’s tight grip on you - your body is far too overwhelmed with pleasure to focus on keeping yourself upright, limbs feeling like jello. Eddie’s hips snap into you with a particularly rough thrust, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot in just the right way, and you bite down on his shoulder to muffle a cry.

“Right there, baby? Y’like that?” Eddie’s voice is low and hovering just above your ear, sending a shiver right down your spine.

“Feels so good, love when you fuck me Eddie,” you moan, and god Eddie swears he could die from the sound of you saying his name alone.

He continues to plow into you at just the right angle, hands fighting to keep their grip on your ass, skin growing slippery from the water. You’re close, Eddie can tell by the way your breathing is staggered and your eyes are pinched shut, his name tumbling out of your mouth in barely coherent strings.

“E-Eddie, ‘m so close,” you whimper, confirming his suspicions.

“Me too, honey, fuck,” Eddie’s panting, hips faltering slightly in their movements as he pushes his body through water.

“Wanna ride you, Eddie, please,” you beg him, and he pulls out of you almost instantly, hoisting himself out of the pool.

“Come on then, baby, what’re you waiting for?” he smirks, laying back onto your towel, the thin layer of fabric easing the roughness of laying on pavement.

You follow him out of the pool, water dripping everywhere as you straddle his lap on shaky knees. You sink down onto his cock, hips falling into the same rhythm they’d had on Eddie’s rescue gear earlier, this time feeling so enticingly full. Eddie groans as your gooey walls envelope him, gripping onto your waist to ground himself. Heat pools in the pit of your stomach once again as you rock yourself on top of him, the new angle stretching you in different ways. You bring a tentative hand down to rub circles on your clit, the sensitive bud begging for more attention. Eddie can’t help himself, he starts rutting up into you, trying to match your pace. He’s right on the edge of bliss but determined to get you there first, pushing himself as deep inside of you as he’ll go. He’s sick with lust as he watches you ride him, delirious with the way your tits bounce with every jolt of your body.

“Gonna cum, Eddie, don’t stop,” you warn, fingers moving quicker on your clit, brows furrowed in concentration.

“Not planning on it, sweetheart,” Eddie grunts, driving into you again and again as you squirm on top of him.

A few more thrusts from him and you feel the rope finally snap, hunched over Eddie’s body as you come undone around him. Your chest heaves as you work through your high, walls fluttering harshly around Eddie’s throbbing length. You feel like your bones turned to mush as Eddie keeps bucking his hips into you, your limbs tingling with the overstimulation of it all. You press chaste kisses to his neck as his moans grow louder, biting and licking at his skin before he finally reaches release. He paints your insides for what feels like forever, loosening his grip on your sides when he’s finally done.

“Shit, honey. Milked me fuckin’ dry,” Eddie laughs, breathing heavy with exertion.

You giggle as you slowly pull off of him, a mix of your release and his leaking out of you, sliding slowly down your thighs. Eddie sits up beside you and you pull him in for a lazy kiss, sloppy lips on lips and tongues peeking out to greet each other. Pulling away, Eddie glances over at the clock hanging on the wall near the locker rooms. It reads just about 10 o’clock. He huffs a sad sigh as he turns back to you.

“We should probably get going, baby. Cops usually show up pretty soon,” Eddie stands, holding a hand out to help you up as well.

You stick out your bottom lip in a pitiful pout as you rise from your sitting position, earning a laugh from Eddie.

“Wish we could just stay here all night,” your pout persists as your press your palms to his chest, scrunching your nose when he kisses it.

“Trust me, honey, you’ll be seeing more of me. No way you’re getting rid of me now,” Eddie chews on the inside of his cheek, attempting to suppress his smirk.

You wait for him by the gate as he covers the rest of the pool and puts his equipment in his locker, admiring every stride his long legs take, thin frame lit up only by the light of the moon and the subtle glow of the flickering lamps in the parking lot. He jogs over to you, kissing you sweetly as his hands unlatch the gate behind you, metal scraping on metal as it opens. He walks you to your car, shaggy wet curls falling over his shoulders as he leans through the window to give you one more kiss goodnight. You pull a pen from your glovebox, writing your phone number in blue ink on his wrist, then kissing the back of his hand before letting him go. He keeps looking over his shoulder at you as he walks to his beat up van, giving you a little wave as you pull out of your parking spot.

Almost as soon as you get home, your phone rings - and you have a feeling it might be one particular lifeguard you know.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #lifeguard!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic

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agirlandhersweetdelusions · 5 months

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Vampire girlfriend who is too shy to feed on her partner in public even though she's starving. It's not that she isn't dying (not literally) to taste your blood, but her bite is a little too pleasurable for you to handle. Bystanders and commoners shouldn't get to see her lover that way, so she takes matters into her own hands - well, fangs. 🩸

Feminine Reader X Vampire Girlfriend

CW: Mentions of blood, slight panic attack, heavy smut, some aftercare, wlw themes as the reader has a vagina.

"Honey," you whisper in her ear despite the fact that she's seated next to you. It was a sunny afternoon, and both of you thought it would be a good idea to have a picnic at the park.

Your girlfriend, a vampire, was the most excited for it. She loved indulging in outdoor activities even if it meant wearing loads of sunscreen. You, however, wanted to make sure she was safe so instead of a walk, you suggested sitting under a large umbrella and playing a card game.

You had just accepted your second defeat at Uno when you heard a low rumble similar to the others that had been occurring for the last few minutes.

"You need to eat." Keeping your voice low wasn't necessary, but it was best to approach her with sensitivity when this subject came about.

Already, she was leaning away from you with her brow furrowed. Her fangs peeked out as she pursed her lips.

"No. I can't. Not here. You know the feeding is a private thing between -"

You cut her off, "I know. I know, but that's the point of a picnic, isn't it? We get to wear our spring linens, sit with the tall grass, and share a meal together. I already ate the berries and the sandwich you packed for me. You haven't had a thing to eat all day."

She rolls her hands, but the anguish rolls off her shoulders at your words. A hand covers her belly. She's starving. Normally, winning at anything would've had her pumping her fists with joy, but she's resigned.

You straighten, eyeing down the rest of the people enjoying the day. There are a few children playing with chalk near the sidewalk, and an older gentleman reads a book on an adjacent bench. It's definitely not as packed as you would've thought.

Still, you need her to eat, but more importantly you need her. The first time she fed on you she neglected to mention that her bite would trigger a sensation that felt like fireworks going off inside your body. It was a rush, pleasuring crashing down on you in waves. Perhaps, you craved it, but she didn't need to know that.

Except that she already did.

*GF POV*

She was achingly warm beneath the umbrella. It was a sweet gesture, sure, but a black lace umbrella was hardly doing anything more than being out in the bare sun.

Still, she loved your willingness to accommodate her. She just wished you would be more considerate of how beautiful you are.

You surveyed the park, and she could see the increasing worry flitting in your eyes. You wanted her to eat, to feed. You wanted it because you cared about her deeply, but it doesn't end there.

The act of her fangs breaking your skin made her stomach twist. It seemed like it hurt, but she knew better. The quiet moans that escape your lips as she barrels down, forcing her fangs deeper into you replicate the way you bend at her every whim when she's between your legs.

Your head becomes weighed, and she ends up supporting you as she finishes drinking. Her tongue laps out to catch the last ruby droplets as she prys herself away from you. Of course, by then you're already nuzzled against her, two orgasms in and basking in the afterglow.

Presently, she could sense the lust wafting from you in clouds. It was a red haze that ate at the edges of her vision. She's only ever experienced it with you.

You were needy, hungry for something that wasn't a summer crisp peach. She was hungry as well, but for a meal and the writhe of your warm skin against her chest.

She stands, covering her soulless eyes with a pair of shades. You give her a puzzled look before realizing that she's in direct sun.

"Baby -" you start, but she's already walking away.

"Come with me, dear girl. I have something for you, and you have something for me, too," she says as shooks you a pointed look over her shoulder.

She doesn't turn to see you stand, but your footsteps quickly approach from behind. You haven't caught on yet.

The two of you walk for a few seconds in silence before she takes you by the hand, interlacing your fingers to make lukewarm bliss.

"You were right as much as I hate to admit it. I'm starving, darling."

"I knew it!" You exclaim. Thus, your excitement takes over. You become so lost in conversation that you fail to recognize the cautious looks that your girlfriend gave to the area, and that the scenery had changed from postcard to halloween attraction.

You stop walking immediately once the fog reaches your feet.

"The woods. We're in the woods?" You ask, puzzled. It all becomes a little too much when nobody responds to you.

She's gone. Your girlfriend is gone and you are alone with the scream of the crows.

Unfortunately, you were too busy celebrating your ego to map the way back out. How could she leave you? Is she ok? Did something happen?

Sweat beads up on your palms, and you close your eyes. Before long, sticks begin to crackle around you, disrupting your attempt at calming.

Your heart hammers in your chest.

"Don't come any closer! I'll do whatever you want just leave me alone!" You shout at the sky. The answer doesn't come in the form of a voice, yet in a blink you're pinned to an oak tree. The impact jars you. Blinking to recover your vision, you expect to find a merciless killer.

Instead, two voided eyes stare back at you, and you realize there are hands grasping at your hips. The nails are long, wild.

"Sorry, dearest, I couldn't hold it in any longer. I know you're just as eager as I am."

There is no trace of love in her voice, yet the way her hands caress your skin, sliding up your waist to hold you in place - you want her more. She's gone full vamp.

"I had to bring you out here. You know that I'm not keen on sharing my meals," one of her hands finds their way to your chin. You're forced to meet her eyes.

"Sweet girl, I am so fucking hungry, but I feel like it's cheating when I go straight for the bite. Do you mind if I prep my lunch?"

You nod weakly, and she smirks before burying her nose in your neck. At first, you think she's lost herself and that a nip followed by pain and pulsing pleasure will come. What follows is only pleasure.

Her clawed fingertips dig into your skin. The tip of her tongue kitten licking over the spot she drank from last before she continues on her predetermined trail.

Wet kisses pattern themselves over your neck and down your chest. She doesn't bother to remove your shirt, but she pays extra attention to where your nipples would be under the fabric.

"Your heart is beating quite fast, darling. I love it. Did you know -" she stops to plant a series of kisses on your inner thighs.

"You taste so good when your blood races. It's like a martini to me," and the way she laughs after, drunkenly, excitedly has your heart going at light speed.

"Let's get these off. They're in my way, and I wouldn't want to rip them after last time. You loved those panties so much."

You raise your hips in response, allowing your girlfriend to slide your bottoms and the soft cotton down to your ankles. She briefly holds your hand and guides you out of the tangled mess of clothes before giving you a light shove back to the tree.

She doesn't speak, but a low rumble emits from some part of her body. "did she just purr," you think to yourself. The thought isn't entertained for long. You hardly have time to contemplate anything before her pointed tongue is on you again.

She wastes no time latching your hands onto her hair. "Still yourself," she mumbles, mouth full of you.

Her lips wrap around the bundle of nerves surrounding your clit, and her shoulder relax. For a moment, she regains a bit of color to her skin, and she hums.

The vibrations travel like electricity up your spine, and you moan in unison with her. Instinctively, your hips buck into her. Her claws only sink deeper into your flesh, and you fear that she may draw blood. It wouldn't be the first time, but you love the way she feels right now.

The air is filled with the smell of pussy and wet moss, the trees are still. Her desperate grunts and your whines join the chorus of crickets.

Peace doesn't last for long though as her tongue works its way into you, her nose brushing your abdomen. Her tongue. Her fucking tongue. It curves into a perfect point, and you swear she can move the base and the tip separately. She has to because how else would she be tickling your g-spot and filling you so sweetly.

"B-baby," you try for a sentence, but the words evaporate from the building heat in your core.

She grunts again. A hard slap lands on your hip. Instantly, you are empty, grinding against the cool night air for friction.

Your girlfriend belly laughs, her face glistening in your juices. You apply pressure to her head in a weak attempt at coercing her back into place. She slaps your hands again, and eyes you down.

"Count." She says the singular word as if it holds weight.

"Count for what?"

"Count. Count to three, darling." Again, she speaks to you as if you're fine china, yet the distant and unwavering gaze she holds on your cunt doesn't settle the itch that lurks beneath your skin.

You swallow hard.

Your voice comes out meek.

"One," you hesitate to see her reaction, but she is stone still on her knees.

"T-two." Her eyebrow twitches and you feel your hips being released the smallest amount. If you dropped a pin into the brush, you'd hear every pittering sound wave.

Your lips part to say "three," but as if she can hear the words gurgling up from your throat, she moves. She is fast. Inhumanly fast and you only know she's moved because of the indent in the grass where she was.

"Fuck."

It's the last thing you think before you see red. The rest of the rainbow follows along with a few stray stars, but you couldn't name a single color. They meld into one - burgundy - as she sinks her freshly sharpened fangs into the side of your neck.

She doesn't go deep. Hell, her tongue was deeper in your pussy than her fangs have ever gone into your flesh, but the feeling is cosmic.

You're weightless. Your veins are nothing more than vessels for her, and even though the current is being sucked out of you, it feels like it's rolling down to your clit.

Pulsing throbs beat in the sensitive nub, and you fight her. Your body needs her again. She doesn't deny you. She continues to feed, yet one of her hands snakes down to your cunt. She pinches and rubs circles across your neediest areas.

A strangled gasp leaves your lips. Tears well up in your eyes, and you begin to feel dizzy. Every tug of her fangs is a phantom tongue inside of you, fucking you against the moist bark.

You reach into the darkness for her, stretching across that burgundy haze. She rubs faster, targeting your clit with a few slaps when you get too loud.

"Need to cum. Please, let me cum. Please. Just don't stop fucking me," you're drunk on lust. She isn't even inside you, and here you are begging the woman that's taking your blood, your life from you.

She complies. At least, that's what you assume because you begin to contract. Spasms of lightning echo through your limbs, and her movements take on a harmony of their own. Your wetness becomes a melody. She rides you through your orgasm like an instrument that she's playing a dozen times.

She doesn't stop until you do. The colors cease to swirl in your mind. Light as feather you are when you begin to slide towards the earth. She supports you. Her body clothespinning your back to the tree as she finishes.

Her fangs make their slow retreat from your neck. Pulling out feelings nearly as good as being fed on. You whimper quietly, and she chuckles at your exhaustion.

Once her fangs are out, she uses her tongue to lick the wound clean. You heal quickly from her saliva, and no trace of pain is present.

She finally lowers you onto the grass. Following suit, she kneels in front of you. A cold hand stroking your cheek.

"Thank you, darling. I was rather peckish this afternoon. You made a fine meal."

You smile hazily. You can make out her figure through your blurring vision, but sleep is coming for you.

You feel yourself being lifted, the up and down of footsteps lulling you into a comfortable rest.

"We'll be home soon, sweet girl. I've got you," your girlfriend whispers to your sleeping form.

#monster fudger #sapphic monster #monster smut #monster lover #vampire #vampire girl #reader x character #vampire smut #sapphic smut #fem reader #monster romance #monster fucker #fiction

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natsukishinomiyaswife · 2 months

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⋆⁺₊⋆ Looking to escape the heat? Longing for some fun?

Get ready to experience a whole new world at Iago’s Paradise, the pool you’ve been wishing for! ⋆⁺₊⋆

A Twisted Wonderland Fanmade Event, based on my Scarabia Lifeguard AU ♡

DISCLAIMER: I have been working on this event for a while now, and ask that everyone please read this post before participating (stay safe everyone! 🫶)

⋆⁺₊⋆ Event Summary:

A family friend of the Asim's invites Kalim and Jamil to attend the grand opening of their new pool, Iago's Paradise. Named after its parrot mascot, the pool is inspired by the Scalding Sands, and made to look like a desert oasis. Excited, Kalim invites some of their classmates to join them, only to arrive and discover... the pool is short staffed!

Not wanting the grand opening to be cancelled, you agree to work at Iago's Paradise, helping to make the best grand opening possible!

⋆⁺₊⋆ About the Pool:

Iago's Paradise has a desert theme, and is meant to look like an oasis, with sand on the ground and palm trees scattered throughout

The pool's mascot is a red parrot named Iago

There are multiple pools, separated by depth (including one specifically for infants) and a slide at the deep end

There are ramps and stairs to make entering the pool more accessible, along with paths without sand for easier mobility

There is an ice cream stand inside the pool area called the Cave of Wonders, that has it's own mascot (a tiger)

There is a food truck called Prince Ali's parked outside the pool area, specializing in dishes from the Scalding Sands

There is a picnic area, with tables and chairs for people to use. Each table has an umbrella, to provide shade from the sun

⋆⁺₊⋆ Event Rules:

Anyone can participate! Feel free to include your OC, your Yuusona, a canon character, etc ♡

You can participate by writing fics, making art, creating edits, etc

Please use the tag #iagosparadise and credit/tag me in the post (I would love to see what you make!! ♡)

No NSFW please! I want everyone to be able to participate! ♡

This event has no deadline! So feel free to join at any time ♡

⋆⁺₊⋆ Outfits:

While this event was made with swimwear/poolwear in mind, feel free to use a summer outfit, if swimwear isn't your thing ♡

While there is no dress code at Iago's Paradise, all employees must wear one of these colors (and it has to be the primary color of their outfit):

Red

Blue

Yellow

Gold

All lifeguards must wear a whistle around their neck.

⋆⁺₊⋆ Jobs:

Don't wanna be a lifeguard? Here's some ideas for what your character could be doing to help out the pool! ♡

Admissions - You work at the entrance, ringing people up and giving them wristbands so they can enter the pool area

Ice Cream Stand - Working at the Cave of Wonders, there's a bunch of jobs to choose from! Running the register, making the ice creams, handing out free samples, etc

Food Truck - Prince Ali's collaborates with Iago's to provide food options for their visitors, and you would be the middle man. Informing visitors about the truck, handing out menus, taking orders at the picnic area (for those who want their food delivered), etc

First Aid - While all lifeguards should know first aid, there's a first aid tent to provide care for any visitors injured on the property. You would provide care to those who are injured, and if someone is seriously injured, calling for assistance (like an ambulance)

Swimming Lessons - Not all pools may provide swimming lessons, but Iago's does! You would be working with a small class of people, helping them learn the basics of swimming. Iago's provides swimming lessons for people of any age, but keeps them separate, having a class for children and a class for adults

⋆⁺₊⋆ Backgrounds:

I have created three different backgrounds you can choose from, and give examples of how they look depending on the rarity!

Please note: these backgrounds were made using in game backgrounds (from Book 4) that I edited

⋆⁺₊⋆ Staff:

Iyad Aubert (groovy here) - @rini-rambles

Silas Sanderson - @theolivetree123

Nadira Kader - @cheerleaderman

Raj Amani (voice lines here) - @readsrandomstuff67 Raj Amani (groovy by @lostonesart) - @readsrandomstuff67

Levi Clado - @the-trinket-witch

Cecil Uriel - @lostonesart

Finn Clearcove (Fic here) - @thehollowwriter

Sidney Gonzalez - @babyghoul138

Elias Miel - @theolivetree123

Kiyuu - @skriblee-ksk

Deuce Spade - @spade-12

Kalle Brunne - @offorestsongs

Kumo Starwing - @fumikomiyasaki

⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

#♡.sheep writes #♡.twst #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland fanevent #twst fanevent #twisted wonderland fan event #twst fan event #kalim al asim #jamil viper

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jirsungs · 3 months

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ep 6: the latte lounge incident

word count: 2.1k words (i write a lot...)

Much time has passed since Jaemin's last text, and you were almost done putting the finishing touches to your makeup and appearance. Once you were done, you walked outside of your apartment and locked the door shut behind you.

Not even a minute later, a car honks from behind you, and you turn around to see your dark-haired friend as the culprit, sitting in the driver's seat of his white Honda Civic. You walk down to Jaemin's car, stopping in front of the passenger car door, which he opens for you.

The second you sit down and shut the door, you notice the many decorations around Jaemin's car. You forgot how decorative the man is.

A Kawaii plushie hanging on his rearview mirror catches your attention the most, you hold in a laugh seeing it.

"Um, since when did you have that?" Jaemin doesn't get what you're referring to until he follows your eyes and finds them eyeing his light pink bunny plushie hung by a darker pink sparkly chain.

Your friend claps his hand in realization, "Ahhh, that!" He sees you still attempting to hold in your laugh, "Ning bought it for me, and don't laugh! There's nothing wrong with a man loving and enjoying cute plushies!"

You ignore his plea and start giggling at his protest, "Just drive, Jaem."

He doesn't scold you for laughing. But before he starts the car's ignition, you see him jut out his bottom lip in a pout, making you giggle even more.

“Holy shit, that's Latte Lounge?” Jaemin makes a hum of affirmation in response to your amazed question. He continues to pass the coffee shop to find a parking space while you are busy, admiring the place. It's decorated cutely with two round tan-colored tables with matching umbrellas out front, an espresso-colored awning to help with the shade, and two lanterns on both sides of the awning. What amazed you the most was the string of people lining up outside the door.

Jaemin puts the car in park when he answers your question again, “I heard it's even prettier inside. I think the manager's a woman too.”

“That explains the nice decorations.” is the last thing you say before you and Jaemin exit the car to walk up to the line and join the wait.

Turns out Jaemin was right, the coffee shop was somehow decorated ten times prettier than the outside. The aroma of coffee beans and the chatter of customers welcomed you and it somehow felt comforting. You observe customers all around, your eyes skim through the room as you see a group of four sitting on the bean bags placed in the corner of the shop as they chat amongst themselves, a couple playing Connect 4 on one of the coffee tables near the board games area, and when you look up to the ceiling, you found it to be lit up with multiple hanging fairy lights. No wonder this place gained popularity two weeks after opening.

Fortunately for both of you, the wait ended up shorter than you thought. For the number of people waiting, you and Jaemin guessed it would be a twenty-minute wait until it got to your turn, but here you were, already one person away from the cashier.

Your eyes slightly widen when you see who it is. Haechan? Rockway's lead singer? The man who absolutely rocked MJ's P.Y.T.?

It was different seeing him in a barista uniform. You’ve only seen him in his casual attire. But it wasn't a bad difference, it was different in a good way.

As you’re both signaled for your turn, you notice how he's busy clearing out the previous order to look up at the both of you.

Haechan's still pressing on the pad when he says, “Hi, welcome to Latte Lounge, how can I–” But pauses when he looks up and recognizes Jaemin. “What the hell, Jaemin! How’s it going, dude?” His once forced happy posture was now comfortably bright.

You found the sudden happiness plastered on Haechan’s face upon seeing Jaemin to be endearing.

He leans over the counter to bring your friend in for one of those dap-and-hug guys always do and Jaemin immediately returns it with a tap on the guy’s back. With you now feeling awkward, you clear your throat in hopes Jaemin will get your mental signal and formally introduce you to his friend.

And thank god he does. Upon hearing your cough, Jaemin then turns to you, “Oh! By the way, Haechan, this is Y/N. She’s one of the friends I brought to your guys’ performance last Friday.”

“Ohhh… so you’re Y/N.” Haechan, as you remember, says with a teasing tone. But just as you're about to question it, another guy who's preparing drinks in the back cuts you off with a yell to Haechan to focus on working.

“Yeah yeah, I got it, Jeno!” Haechan yells back before giving you and Jaemin an apologetic look, mouthing a “sorry.”

Jeno… Jeno… Like, Jeno the bass player Jeno?! Since when did they all work at Latte Lounge? You think.

Wait. That doesn't include him, right?

Haechan, finally asking for your orders, interrupts your mental dilemma, and you don’t seem to remember what you were stressing about after you get your order number.

“Haechan, are you seriously sure this is gonna work?” Jeno doubtfully asks his friend for the seventh time.

The both of them were hiding in the employee's area after Haechan whined for Jisung to take his place at the cashier. When the younger one finally gave in, Haechan immediately pushed Jeno inside, leading them here, stuck in an area that reeked of coffee bean bags and dairy products so Haechan could discuss his plan with his friend for the—oh wait, he doesn’t remember the number—of times.

Haechan lets out an exasperated sigh at the repeated question, “Jeno, you’re stressing for no reason. Trust me, it’ll work. We’ll just have Jisung give Y/N and Jaemin their drinks and once he’s at their table, I’ll bump myself into him and—”

“Just don’t make it obvious or overdo it.”

Haechan frowns at the response, “I’m hurt that you really don’t trust me with this plan. I won’t do either of those things because once I push him into Y/N, her latte will spill on her shirt, PTSD, am I right?” He jokingly elbows Jeno’s side but stops when he sees no reaction from him so he continues, “Okay, after that, you party pooper, that’ll give Jisung the opportunity to fix what happened the first time and apologize by helping her out! See, isn't it a great plan?”

“Well… a great plan wouldn't include making it worse for him because now she'll end up with a second stained outfit and no caramel latte which may I remind you, Jaemin paid for that. Also, shouldn't we at least let Jisung in about this?”

Annoyed with Jeno's constant protests, Haechan shoves the round black serving tray in his friend's arms and pushes him outside the swinging doors in Jisung's direction, “That'll just ruin the authentic reaction, so just trust me, he's gonna thank us for this. Now, go get ‘em, tiger!”

“But I really think we sh—”

Once pushed outside, Jeno is suddenly met with Jisung's front and his sentence never gets finished. The younger one jumps at the close proximity.

“God! Geez, Jeno!”

The older one only gives a small smile, almost resembling a puppy before apologizing, “My bad, Ji. Hey, uh—” Jeno's eyes shift to the round tray which Jisung follows, “Order number 89 is ready, can you serve their drinks to their table for me?”

Jeno tries his best to stay convincing but it only makes Jisung raise one of his eyebrows in suspicion, “And why can't you serve it?”

That one simple question causes Jeno's brain cogs to stop working because his attempt to be convincing is now replaced with hesitant stutters.

“Uh, well, you see…”

Back in the employee's area, Haechan is watching Jeno's performance behind the swinging doors and is left impatient because of how bad he's doing. He lets out a quiet groan before walking out to help him. He stands behind the helpless man and puts his hands on his shoulders as a show of support.

“It's time for Jeno's break, Sungie. That's why he needs you to take his place.”

Haechan's tone sounds a little bit too casual and it leads Jisung to glance back and forth between both of his friends. Though he's still confused by Jeno’s sudden change in behavior, Haechan sounded normal and that was enough to convince him.

“Oh. Okay. Jeno, why couldn't you just say that then?”

Jeno shrugs instead of giving a verbal answer out of fear that he’ll make the situation more obvious.

Jisung gets the round tray from Jeno’s hands and walks over to the metal counter and places the finished caramel latte and iced Americano on the tray. Just before he’s about to walk out of the working station, he eyes his friends once more. Jeno’s still anxious while Haechan gives a tight-lipped smile.

They're acting weird. But then again, that's normal.

He scans the place for a table with table number 89, once spotting it, he begins to walk over, his hands carefully holding the tray to avoid it spilling. As he’s walking up to the table, he recognizes Jaemin but sees he’s accompanied by a woman. Your back is facing him and your hair isn’t familiar to him.

Is he… on a date? Jisung thinks.

But right when he reaches the table, you and Jaemin look over, and the next thing you know, your drinks spill on it… and your outfit. Again.

Neither of you has time to react because Jisung’s panicked placing of napkins and apologies distract you. “I am… so sorry. You guys can have drinks for free. I’ll pay for—” That’s when he finally sees you. Y/N.

Oh shit.

And you snap. “Great, another ruined outfit. Are you doing this on purpose, like, do you enjoy this or something?” You bitterly dab the multiple napkins in your hand, trying your best to lessen the spill from spreading on your outfit. Your malice tone from Johnny’s party makes its appearance once again.

Similar to what happened during your interaction at Johnny’s, Jisung is just as confused as to why you’re being so difficult when his attempt to help you is purely an act done out of generosity.

“What the hell is your problem? Do you seriously think that lowly of me?”

You take your focus away from your shirt to look at the now defensive young man in front of you in disbelief, “Yeah, I do. This is your second time doing this, and the first time, you didn’t even apologize!”

Jisung rubs his forehead with his hand in distress, he becomes more visibly fed up the more your anger spews out at him, “Y/N, I’m sorry, alright? Just let me help you, please stop fighting it.”

But his eagerness to help is what leads you to crack even more.

“Jisung, can you just leave?! I don’t want or need your help.”

And you guess, him too, because the thing you know, he can’t take it anymore and spits out his anger right there in the middle of the coffee shop, “You know what, fine. I tried to be nice and somehow gain your kindness back but you are making this so difficult. If you wanna stay stubborn, then have it your way. Stay fucking stubborn.”

He ends with the slam of the semi-latte-drenched napkins on your and Jaemin’s table before storming out to the back of the shop, his mind completely shutting out the murmurs from the watching customers. Your breathing stops when you watch him walk away, and in the peripheral of your eye, you see Jaemin looking at you. Why does this feel embarrassing? Why are you regretting yelling at him?

“Jisung!”

Your world blurs out again, the only sounds heard are from the swinging doors opening in and out along with the shouts and movement from Haechan and Jeno as they chase after the stupid drummer boy. For your benefit, it gives you time to fully indulge in what the heck just happened and ignore those talking around you.

You mentally replay him getting mad at you over and over. He said it in such a manner that results in you having a guilty lump in your throat and your brain almost tells you to run after him and apologize. You’ve never seen that side of him before, though, you haven’t seen much with your small number of interactions.

But your pride matters more. If he wants stubborn, then you’ll show him stubborn.

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note: RAAHAHA their hatred is finally deep. thank the lord!! i had sm writer's block w coming up with this chapter but i'm honestly really happy w how this turned out :)) we welcome their enemies era with love and open arms

🎫: @idkwhatursayinh @sunghoonsgfreal @multifandomania @nanaxwi @odxrilove @sourrpatched @hancafe @chaellaa @dojaejunging @jising-jisang-jisung @heheheeral @haechansbbg @renjunsversion @seunghancore @woshixinqgiu @jiiieun @pinknjm

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