#using my lil personal tag again feels so good

[anneeiffel]

OMG YOU!! You're back!!! How are you??? :D

Hell yeah!!! I need good ol content again, not whatever instagram reels is trying to sell me lol. I am doing, as a matter of fact, very good.

How r u??!!!

[anxiouscherubs]

find you in my heart

✦ summary: the one where you get dumped and your best friend is there to help you realize what you truly deserve… what’s been in front of you all along.

✦ warnings/tags: MDNI! 18+, explicit, smut, slight angst, some fluff, oral sex (f receiving), oral sex (m receiving), fingering, throat fucking, big dick yh, unprotected sex (be safe!), yh is desperately in love, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, mentions of cheating (past relationships), yh and reader met as baristas, pet names, au where jeong yunho can actually cook, yunho is a lil possessive

✦ pairing: nonidol!yunho x reader

✦ author’s note: as a yunho ult, a yh best friends to lovers has been at the top of my list of things to write. i started this fic after yun posted these photos because i just could not get the vision of late night walks with him out of my head! i am new to writing so any feedback is appreciated. i hope you enjoy ♡ as always, thank you to my lovely best friends for enabling me and proofreading my depravity. love you guys forever. ♡

✦ word count: 12.9k

✦ read it on ao3: here

Two years. Two years down the drain because your ex decided he “wasn’t feeling it anymore.” You had a sneaking suspicion his change of heart had to do with his hot new coworker, but you couldn’t think too far into it or it would rip you apart more than he already had. 

He had grown distant, and you chalked it up to the stress of his new job. But when he started staying late every other day and missing your sacred Thursday date nights, you knew it was the beginning of the end. You were happy together (most of the time), but you were never certain you could see yourself spending the rest of your life with him. There were certain things about him that you tolerated, but you wanted your forever to be spent with someone who felt perfect for you. And he… didn’t.

Even though you knew he wasn’t who you’d spend your life with, it stung just the same to receive his messages. 

loser: hey y/n… i’ve been thinking about this for a while now but i think it’s time for us to part ways. 

loser: we’ve had a good run, but i’m just not really feeling it anymore. i hope you understand. 

loser: wish you the best. xx 

You’d changed his contact and blocked his number immediately, saving yourself from the hurtful words he’d throw your way if you tried to ask for any reasoning or clarification. He always turned into a different person the moment you tried to express your emotions. 

“She’s just a coworker, y/n, stop being crazy. You don’t have to worry about her.” 

You push his words out of your brain again before they take over. So what if he left you for her? They probably deserve each other. You knew you were better off, that wasn’t the issue. It was that you settled for two years, letting this man who clearly didn’t respect you treat you like an afterthought the entire time. The more you think about it, the more you blame yourself for placing such little value on your own time and energy. 

You sit on your couch, your coffee table littered with tear-soaked tissues and instant ramen cups. You haven’t  left the house since you got The Texts last night, and you've watched a season of your favorite crime show and eaten your body weight in Buldak since then. You know you can’t sit here and wallow anymore or you’ll start to lose your mind, so you drag yourself to the bathroom to assess the damage. Eyes red and puffy from crying, hair tangled and tied loosely in a scrunchie, tear drops lingering on the same sweatshirt you’d been wearing for the last 24 hours. You look like hell. 

“I need to get out of this apartment,” you say to yourself. You pull out your phone and send a quick text to your best friend before hopping in the shower. After washing your hair 3 times, shaving your legs, and exfoliating the sadness away, you’re finally starting to feel human again. You wrap yourself in your favorite towel before checking your phone again. 

y/n: yunnie… are you free tonight? 

yunho: for you? absolutely. you ok? haven’t heard from you all day.

Of course he’d notice you going MIA for a day. You and your best friend texted every single day, sending quick little updates or funny videos. He’d probably been worried sick, but he never wants to pry. He’s always respected your space like that. 

y/n: long story. i’ll explain later. 

y/n: meet me in front of blossom in 30? 

Blossom was the cafe you and Yunho met working at. You were both burning the candle at both ends working nearly full time as baristas during your senior year of college. Your closing shifts together kept you sane during finals, blasting music and sharing your life stories while you cleaned up the shop. He’d even walk you home, after every closing shift, never wanting to let you walk alone so late. You both gave your two weeks notice right after graduation, but promised each other you’d make up for all the time you wouldn’t spend working together anymore. 

That was four years ago, and he’d been such a stable presence in your life since then. You’d grown closer over the years, spending countless movie nights and BBQ dates together. He knew everything about you (after a movie night with too much wine and lots of oversharing) and hadn’t gone running for the hills, so you knew he really cared. You didn’t really have time to make friends in college because you were either working, in class, or studying, so he was really all you had. He was your safe space. You both stayed close by after graduation, staying in your apartments in the city 2 blocks from the cafe on either side. It was nice having your best friend so close by, and the cafe remained a staple in your friendship as a middle point between your two homes. In your reminiscing, you realize you missed your Saturday morning coffee date with him. 

yunho: of course, bean. i missed you this morning. 

Your heart fluttered in your chest at the nickname. It always does. That, and when he calls you sweetheart. Your heart almost came up your throat the first time he pulled that one. Yunho started calling you bean after you spilled an entire bag of light roast on the cafe floor trying to refill the hopper for the openers. He’ll never let you live that one down. You remembered giggling and scooping coffee beans off the floor on your hands and knees together, his hand brushing over yours when you both reached for the dustpan, your eyes meeting, breath quickening… 

You shake the memory from your brain, coming back to reality just as you both had snapped out of it in the moment four years ago, scattering to finish cleaning up and avoiding eye contact the rest of the night. You always dismissed the electricity you felt when his skin touched yours, blaming the exhaustion from working a closing shift after being up all night studying. He had a girlfriend at the time, he wouldn’t have been interested in you that way anyway. He’s your friend, y/n, be realistic. You’re reaching. You send another quick text before getting dressed, and he of course responds right away. 

y/n: i missed you too, i’m sorry i should’ve texted. it’s been a shitty 24 hours. i’ll see you soon 

yunho: no need to apologize. i’ll be there, see you in a bit. 

25 minutes pass and you somehow manage to make yourself look somewhat presentable. You dried your hair and pulled half of it up in a claw clip, leaving some pieces out to frame your face. You threw on some concealer and a bit of blush, trying to hide how puffy your eyes still were. It was a chilly fall night, so you opted for your favorite pair of light wash jeans and an oversized black sweater, accompanied by your beat up black chelsea boots and your gray wool coat. 

After a quick 5 minute walk you round the corner to see Yunho standing in front of the cafe, his back facing you. Of course he’s right on time. His broad shoulders fill out the black jacket he’s wearing, his crossbody bag tucked under his arm. The neon sign in the cafe window leaves a purple hue reflecting off his freshly dyed dark gray hair. He turns his head at a car passing by, and you catch yourself smiling at the lost puppy look in his eyes. He must’ve seen you approaching in his peripheral, his head snapping in your direction. A subtle smile plays on his lips as he locks eyes with you. His warm brown eyes are full of an emotion you can’t quite name. 

Your chest aches at the realization that your ex, in the two years you were together, never looked at you like that. Why did you ever think you were important to him? Your throat suddenly tightens and your vision starts to blur, tears welling in your eyes for the millionth time today. Yunho’s smile drops, his brow furrowing as he takes two long strides to meet you. 

“Y/n, what is it, what happened?” He reaches for your shoulders to hold you steady, but you push forward to bury your face in his chest. He wraps his arms around you without hesitation, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other snakes around your shoulders. Your hands find his waist, gripping his shirt underneath his jacket. His familiar scent of jasmine envelops you, and you realize how badly you needed your best friend to help you through this.

”H-He dumped me,” you sniffle, letting out a shaky breath into Yunho’s chest, “he d-dumped me yesterday, through a fucking t-text message,”  another unsteady exhale as you try to level your breathing. 

“He did what?!” He pulls you in closer to him, the disbelief lacing his tone reassuring how rational your feelings are.

“It’s over,” you blink away your tears, tilting your head back to look up at your best friend. You’ve never seen the expression on his face before, like anger and worry are battling it out in his brain, and he can’t decide which one should take center stage first. “He texted me last night, saying he ‘wasn’t feeling it anymore’ and he ‘wished me the best,���” your mocking tone repeating his words reignited the angry flame in your chest. 

“Wished you the best,” he scoffs, “is he kidding?” He rolls his eyes.  “That’s how you end a two-year-long relationship?” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, taking a half step back to give you some more space to catch your breath.  

“I can’t believe I wasted two years of my life with someone who just kicked me to the curb without a second thought,” you pinch the fabric of his shirt between your fingers, your eyes lingering on his collarbone peeking out from his slightly unbuttoned shirt. “I’m convinced he left me for a coworker, the one he told me not to worry about.” A humorless laugh leaves your lips, the burning feeling behind your eyes returning as more tears come. “I’m more upset with myself for letting him treat me like this for so long,”

“Hey, look at me,” Yunho cautiously brings his hands to your face, cradling your head gently. You lean into his touch, dragging your gaze up to meet his.

“He doesn’t know what he just threw away, sweetheart,” Yunho holds your teary cheeks in his hands. “You are the most beautiful creature this world has ever seen, and if he doesn’t see that, he doesn’t deserve you.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” You choke out between sniffles. 

“Oh y/n… of course I do. I always have,” he wipes a tear from your cheek before it reaches your lips, “since the day I met you.” 

Your breath catches in your throat at his admission, your chin wobbling as you try to hold it together. 

His eyes search yours, that unspoken emotion taking over his features again. You almost catch the moment he shakes it away, reminding himself that he’s here to support you. His hands fall from your cheeks to grab your hands instead, that familiar electricity prickling your skin as he rubs his thumbs over your knuckles. 

“Do you wanna go inside? I called ahead and ordered you a maple latte and a raspberry scone as soon as I got your text.” He tilts his head in the direction of the cafe next to you. 

You look inside to see two to-go cups and a brown paper bag sitting on the counter. “And an iced caramel latte for you, I’m assuming,” you poke his stomach teasingly, “thank you, Yun, you didn’t have to do that.” 

“Of course I did,” he gently squeezes your hands, a warm smile taking over his features. “Come on, it seems like we have a lot to catch up on. I have a feeling you have a lot to get off your chest.” He lets go of one hand, keeping hold of the other to walk you to the door. You lace your fingers through his, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

You’d spent the last hour sitting in your favorite booth with Yunho, hashing through every single thing you hated about your ex. He was appalled by the things you’d told him, wishing he knew sooner so he could’ve tried to help you see you deserve someone better. Someone who valued your emotions, understood your needs, respected your boundaries… Someone like — 

“Yunho, are you with me?” Your voice shakes him out of his daze, bringing him back to the conversation.

“Sorry bean, I just can’t believe he was such an asshole behind closed doors,” he recovers, “I wish you told me sooner. I feel like I wasn’t there for you when I should’ve been.”

”It’s not your fault, I could’ve told you and I didn’t. I think I was in denial,” you scoff. ”I was settling and I knew it, I was just trying to pretend things were better, but I think I’d been checked out for a while.” You swirl your coffee around in your cup, avoiding the concerned look in his eye. If you looked at him too long, you’d risk reading something deeper in the way he cares about you, something that made your heart flutter and ache all at once.

”Y/n, do you remember the girl I was dating when we met?” His tone shifts, a slight vulnerability creeping in. You stop moving your cup, watching the drink settle. You nod hesitantly, still avoiding his eyes. 

Of course you remember her. You had developed a crush on Yunho in your first week working together, but you had to smother it at the first mention of her. Any hope you had left for a chance with him disintegrated the first time you saw her — she was the kind of beautiful you only saw on TV. Flawless skin, no split ends, a perfectly sculpted body. Even her voice was smooth. She seemed perfect for him. 

“She cheated on me.” 

Your head snaps up to him in disbelief. “Excuse me?” 

You remember him telling you they broke up in passing — it had been a month after you started a relationship of your own. Part of you always wondered if you had just missed your window to pursue something with Yunho, but you pushed that thought out of your head so you could be present for your best friend. He didn’t want to go into detail about the breakup at the time, and he never did in the two years that followed. 

“For the last six months of our relationship, she’d been sleeping with someone she reconnected with from high school. They realized they loved each other, and she ended things.” He offers a sad smile, but the bitterness lingers beneath the surface. You feel a tightness in your chest wondering why he didn’t want to share his pain with you while all of this was going on.  

”Oh, Yunnie,” you reach for his hand across the table, holding his large palm in yours. “I’m so sorry. I don’t understand how anyone could ever do that to you. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Maybe we can call it even?” He lets out a breathy laugh, ignoring your question. “You didn’t tell me your relationship troubles, I didn’t tell you mine. Now it’s all on the table and we can leave it in the past.” He squeezes your hand, waiting for your response. 

“Fine.” You flash a tight lipped smile, wanting to hash this open again with him at a later time. You didn’t keep secrets from each other, so why was he avoiding getting into this with you? 

“Well, it’s almost closing time.” Of course he’s gonna change the subject. “Do you need a night alone or are you coming home with me tonight?” He forces a smile from across the table, and you could’ve sworn his ears turned the slightest bit red asking you to spend the night. Sleepovers weren’t out of the norm for the two of you, but this proposal felt different for some reason. 

“I think if I’m alone at my place tonight I’ll revert to the sad couch potato I was before I texted you earlier.” You don’t really believe that, feeling like you’ve moved past the depression stage of grief and slowly inching toward acceptance. But you still wanted the company. 

“I’d love to come home with you, Yunnie.”

“Then let’s go, sweetheart.” 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Your neighborhood was so beautiful at night. The soft streetlights cast a gentle glow on the sidewalk, illuminating little puddles of water from last night’s rain. The fall air feels cool and crisp, carrying the faint smell of the changing leaves. This late at night, the stillness is calming… usually. 

You two had found this to be the perfect environment to have your deepest talks. Taking regular nighttime walks with Yunho had become one of your cherished rituals, especially when one of you needed to get something off your chest. You’d shared fragments of your lives, from your family drama to his frequent arguments with a stubborn coworker at his new job. But tonight, a suffocating silence swirls around you. 

You’d taken a full lap around the neighborhood in silence since leaving Blossom, the familiar path devoid of your usual chatter. As you approach Yunho’s place, his brisk pace and hands shoved deep in his pockets told you he wasn’t going to be the one to acknowledge it. He was never one for confrontation. If he wouldn’t tell you what’s going on voluntarily, you’d have to coax it out of him.   

You stop walking, the cool air feeling sharper on your skin. He takes three more strides before he stops too, spinning back around to face you, confusion etched on his devastatingly handsome features.

“You okay, bean?” he asks, tilting his head at you, genuine concern flickering in his eyes. 

“I feel like I should be asking you the same thing,” you reply, barely above a whisper. Maybe you weren’t one for confrontation either. 

He takes a step closer to you, “I’m fine,” he says with a quick shrug and a slight shake of his head. 

“Then why haven’t you spoken to me since we left Blossom? Did I say something to upset you?” You try your hardest to grab your frustration before it bubbles up, but you can already tell it’s too late. His dismissive tone, both here and at the cafe, gnaws at you. It triggers something inside of you from your recently ended relationship, and you feel on the verge of either shutting down or letting your emotions spiral.  

“I just thought you might want a quiet walk is all.” He can barely look you in the eye, and that’s when you know something is very wrong. 

“Come on Yun, you know that’s not what’s going on. Something is bothering you.” The frustration claws higher and higher, an unwelcome tightness gripping at your chest. Don’t cry, y/n.

He opens his mouth, the words hanging on the tip of his tongue, but stops himself, his hands finally pulling from his pockets to rest on his hips. He stares at a fallen leaf swirling in a puddle between you. 

“Is it because we talked about your ex?” He winces just a little at your words. “I didn’t mean to open old wounds, I just thought after everything we’ve shared with each other that you’d want to talk to me about it.” You don’t mean for your words to sound accusatory, but based on the way his body tenses, you realize they must have. 

“It’s not that, y/n, it’s not about…” his voice trails off into a sigh. His eyes search yours, his mind racing trying to decide if he wants to get into what’s really going on, what he’s been keeping inside for so long. 

“Then what is it?” You’re grasping at straws, desperately trying to get him to give you anything to go off of. When you’re met with more silence and an indiscernible look in his eyes, you push forward.

“I just don’t get why you wouldn’t tell me she cheated on you Yun, we help each other through everything.” Anger wells up in you, more at yourself for not asking him to open up to you about it at the time. 

“Y/n, please, it’s more complicated than just her cheating, and I just don’t know if now is the best time to get into it, you’re still—”

“Still what, Yunho? Grieving my own relationship? Just because I just got dumped doesn’t mean I can’t be here for you!” Your voice rises, each word sharp, the tension in your throat threatening to break. “You don’t get to decide what I can and can’t handle, that’s not up to you—”

“Fine,” he interrupts, “do you wanna know the real reason I didn’t tell you, y/n? Is that what you want?” His ears redden, and you can’t tell if he’s angry, embarrassed, or a combination of the two. You nod hesitantly. “I didn’t tell you she cheated because I didn’t care, okay? I didn’t care. Her heart wasn’t in it anymore, but neither was mine.” His chest heaves, squeezing his eyes shut tight for a brief moment to brace himself. 

“I didn’t care that she cheated, because I didn’t want her anyway.” He lets out a shaky breath. “I wanted you.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

His eyes burn into yours as his words hang in the air between the two of you. 

“Yunho…” You take a step toward him only for him to take a step back. Your heart is pounding so hard in your chest, you wonder if he can hear it. What is happening right now?

“I’m sorry y/n, I can’t keep it to myself anymore. I’ve held it in for so long, and I just can’t do it anymore, I—” He stutters over his words, “I wasn’t grieving my relationship, I was grieving yours. You found someone just before she ended things with me, and I realized maybe you and I weren’t meant to be. That we’d never have the chance to try.” His eyes gloss over with pent up emotion, thinking about all the time he spent wondering what could’ve been. “I wanted you, but I had to act like I didn’t, and we were becoming such good friends, I didn’t want to ruin it, I just—” 

”Did you think I didn’t feel the same?” You interrupt him. “That I don’t feel the same now?” 

He tilts his head at you, the tension in his body visibly disintegrating. “What are you saying?” Brows furrowing, cheeks blushing, so many emotions flying through his features at a speed neither of you can process. He runs his hands down his face before resting them on his hips. “Sweetheart, what are you saying?” 

“I wanted you, too, Yun…” The words tumble out of you, a rush of honesty that feels both exhilarating and terrifying. “I want you too.”

He takes another step toward you, his mind racing as he searches for answers to never ending questions. “You did?” Another step. “You do?” 

“Yes, and yes,” you nod, feeling warmth flood your cheeks at your admission—both to Yunho and to you. You realize you’d never said it out loud before, not even to yourself. 

“Say it again,” he urges, closing the gap between the two of you. One hand finds your waist while the other gently cradles the back of your neck. His touch lights a fire on your skin, his hands feeling heavier on your body than they ever have before. Your hands find their way to his waist, tugging him closer to you. Chests heaving, hearts racing.

“I want you, Yunho.”  

The tension between you peaks, your grip tightening on one another, like if either one of you lets go, the moment will slip away. Yunho’s eyes search yours, looking for confirmation. 

He gently cups your face, his thumb brushing your cheek, wiping away the remnants of your tears. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, igniting the familiar spark that had always lingered between the two of you. Your breath hitches in your throat, caught between the fear of moving too fast and the undeniable pull you have always felt towards him. 

You bring a hand up to his cheek, your fingers gliding over his skin, feeling the warmth radiating from him. You linger for a moment before wrapping your fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. 

“Y/n,” he whispers, “sweetheart,”  his gaze drops to your lips, and you swear you can hear your hearts beating in time with one another in the quiet. 

You take a deep breath, searching his gaze for the same spark of desire you feel coursing through your body. He inches closer, breath mingling with yours, heating the space between you.

“Is this okay?” he asks softly, his voice trembling slightly. 

You nod, breathless, as you lean in just enough to finally close the distance between the two of you. 

The tip of his nose brushes against yours, the contact making your head spin. You’ve thought about this moment countless times, and being here feels so right.

“Yunho,” you breathe, “please kiss me alr—“

His mouth molds to yours before you can finish your sentence, pulling all the remaining air from your lungs. The world around you explodes in a flash of warmth and tenderness, all the hurt you had been feeling melting away into a puddle at your feet.

You feel a rush of emotions— relief, joy, and a deep, intoxicating desire— as he deepens the kiss. Your hands tighten around the back of his neck, pulling him closer as he sweeps his tongue across your bottom lip. You lose yourself in the sensation, the taste of him and the feeling of his lips on yours erasing everything else you’ve ever felt. 

His fingers tangle in your hair, holding you as if you might disappear. This moment, this kiss, feels like a declaration— a culmination of all the unspoken words, the hidden glances, the years of longing between the two of you. It’s exhilarating.

He finally pulls away, resting his forehead against yours, your heavy breaths the only sounds on the quiet street. Your hands slide from his neck, traveling down his chest before settling on his waist. 

“Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to cut you off,” he chuckles, brushing a strand of hair from your face, “I’ve just been waiting a really long time to do that.” He drops a gentle kiss to your forehead before wrapping his arms around you to pull you close. 

“You can cut me off anytime if it means I get to kiss you,” you nuzzle into his chest. The steady thud of his heartbeat slows yours to match. 

“Oh yeah?” He looks down at you, a teasing glint in his eyes. 

“Yes, abso—“

His lips connect to yours again, a fire igniting in your belly when his tongue tangles with yours. He tastes like caramel, the sweetness of his latte lingering on his tongue. Wide hands wrap around your hips, dragging you closer, rolling your body into him. 

You snake your hands up his lower back, digging your nails into his skin through his shirt. A low groan rumbles deep in Yunho’s throat at the sensation, sending a bolt of heat straight to your core. A whimper crawls up your throat before you can stop it, and Yunho smiles against your mouth. He draws your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently. 

“Your lips are even softer than I imagined they’d be,” he gives you one more lingering kiss before pulling back. His deep eyes find yours, his blushed cheeks glowing under the streetlights. 

“You’ve imagined kissing me?” Shyness creeps in at the realization that Yunho thought about you in the same way you thought about him. 

“Among other things, yes,” he brushes your hair out of your face, his palm settling to cup your cheek. “You’re cute when you blush.” 

“I am not blushing!” You hide your face in your hands. “Maybe I am, but how can I not when you talk to me like that,” you muffle into your palms. 

“I’ll talk to you any way you want if it means you’ll react like this,” he teases, gently pulling your hands from your face to hold them in his. “Your hands are freezing, sweetheart,” he brings your hands to his mouth, holding them between his and blowing his hot breath onto them to warm them up.

”Well we have been out here a while,” you shiver at the feeling of his breath on your skin. 

“Am I still allowed to take you home tonight, or would that complicate things?” He’s either nervous, or hesitant. Either would make sense, you just got dumped and 24 hours later you’re confessing your feelings for your best friend (and kissing him). Anyone with a brain might wonder if you’re rushing, or worse, rebounding. Once you get out of this cold, you can talk things through. 

“Yes, please, let’s go.” You take his hand in yours, kissing his knuckles before pulling him in the direction of his place.

“You got it, baby.” He slings an arm over your shoulder, planting a kiss to the top of your head. Your heart flutters as you walk toward his apartment. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

As soon as you walk through Yunho’s front door, he breezes past you to grab two wine glasses and a bottle of your favorite rosé while you kick off your boots. As you shed your jacket, he sets two full glasses on his simple wooden coffee table, heading back to his kitchen to grab a bag of chips and some chocolates. He returns with his hands full, confusion lacing his features when he finds you standing in the middle of his living room stifling a laugh. 

“Is something funny?” He chuckles at your reddening cheeks as you let out a giggle. 

“When did you get so nervous to have me in your apartment?” Part of you feels bad for teasing, but he looks so cute when he’s flustered, you can’t help it. “I’ve never seen you move so fast to get me a glass of wine.” 

“Well, when you decide to tell me you want me in the middle of the street, that tends to change things, baby,” he grins at you, clocking you for the second time now having a physical reaction to his newest pet name for you. You thought sweetheart sounded beautiful coming out of his mouth, but baby is a whole new level of intoxicating.

”You said it first, but I guess that does change things, huh, baby?” You cross your arms, challenging him. “Do I make you nervous, Jeong Yunho?” 

“You make me a lot of things, sweetheart, but nervous isn’t one of them.” He pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, the gesture making your head spin. After setting your snacks down on the coffee table, he finally takes off his jacket and kicks off his shoes. He plops down on his couch, patting the empty cushion next to him. “Come sit with me,” the deep, inviting tone of his voice has you moving to him immediately. Grabbing your wine, you sit next to him, folding one leg up onto the couch to turn to face him. He copies your position, his knee resting just an inch from yours. 

“What do I make you feel, then?” You swirl your wine in your glass as your gaze flicks over his handsome features. Landing on his eyes, your heart jumps at the way they shine for you. 

“Fulfilled,” he starts, scooting closer to you so your knees are just barely touching. “Cared for, understood,” the corner of his mouth quirks up slightly, “and loved.” 

A bloom of warmth floods your chest at the word. This is what you’ve been missing the last few years. You thought your ex would give you this sense of gratification if you gave him more time, but what you were searching for was in your best friend. You always knew in the back of your mind that it was him. The one who held you when you cried, who made you laugh until your stomach hurt, who would drop everything to be there when you needed him. You take a big sip of your wine. 

“I was settling,” the words fall off your lips before you can stop them, the alcohol warming your cheeks right away. “I thought that if I kept giving him everything he would eventually give me half of what I was craving, but in the back of my mind I think I knew he’d never be what I really needed… I settled for him.” 

Yunho offers a soft nod, zero judgment, only understanding. “And what is it you were craving?” He moves even closer to you, your shins now pressed together. 

“You,” you sigh, his deep eyes boring into yours, waiting for more. You tap your fingers on your wine glass, contemplating your next words. “The connection, the comfort, the joy, the love that you gave me,” your throat tightens thinking about the nights you spent longing for your best friend. “I wanted you, how you made me feel…but I settled for him.” 

“Right person, wrong time,” Yunho scoffs, a gentle shake of his head, “kind of applies to us, right? We’ve wanted each other for years now, but we just never had the chance.”

“I should’ve told you sooner, Yun,” your hand rests on his, his fingers immediately lacing between yours. “We’ve wasted so much time,” hot tears blur your vision, but you blink them away before they fall.

“Hey, we have all the time in the world, baby,” he brings your hand to his mouth, planting a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “All the time in the world,” he muffles against your skin. You turn your palm to hold his cheek, and you notice his eyes roll back before they flutter closed.

“All the time in the world,” you repeat, threading your fingers into his hair. A future with Yunho flashes through your mind. Lazy Sunday mornings, celebrating milestones and holidays together, late nights tangled in the sheets, his body taking over yours — 

“Y/n…” His deep, smooth voice brings you back to the moment, the sound of your name on his lips heating your cheeks. 

“Hm?” 

He gently takes your wine glass from your hand, setting it on the coffee table next to his untouched one. When his eyes find yours again, warmth pools in your belly at the darkness that’s taken over his features. “I really want to kiss you again, but I feel like we should talk first,” he takes both your hands in his, and your heart pounds a beat faster in your chest. “If you spend the night tonight, there’s no going back. Once I have you, I don’t think I can let you go.” 

“I don’t want you to let me go, Yun,” you squeeze his hands in yours. “I’ve waited too long to get here, I don’t wanna go back… You already have me, don’t let me go.” The thudding in your rib cage intensifies with every second of heated silence.

“I couldn’t if I tried,” he finally says, pulling you in, crashing his lips into yours. His hands find your waist, his tongue exploring your mouth, and you wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls you into his lap. You straddle him, resting your knees on either side of his hips, deepening the kiss as his hands wander to cup your ass, pulling you closer to him. You roll your hips against him, his grip tightening on you as he drags your body over him. A groan rumbles in his chest and you feel his cock stiffening beneath you, grinding on him slower and harder. 

“I can’t believe you’re finally mine,” Yuhho’s hand snakes up your back and into your hair, gently removing your clip and tossing it to the floor before gripping your locks and tilting your head to the side, exposing the sensitive column of your neck to his mouth. He nips at your skin, licking the spot with his tongue, moving up to the tender spot under your ear. “My beautiful girl,” his hot breath in your ear has your entire body blooming with goosebumps.

”Yunho,” you roll your hips over him again as his lips travel down your neck to your collarbone, a whimper crawling up your throat at your rough jeans catching on your swelling clit. He feels harder and harder underneath you with each rock against him, and you’re cursing yourself for wearing such thick pants. You just want to feel him. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” He tightens his grip on your hair, kissing back up your neck until his lips connect with yours again. You moan into his mouth as his other hand guides your hips back and forth, shamelessly grinding your bodies against each other like horny teenagers. 

“Touch me please,” you beg, catching his bottom lip between your teeth, sucking on it gently. 

“Only because you asked so nicely,” he teases. He snakes an arm around your waist and smoothly rolls you onto your back, laying you down in the soft cushions. He kneels, settling between your legs, spreading them wide to roll his hips into your needy clothed core. His mouth finds yours again, tangling his tongue with yours.

The hand in your hair loosens, trailing down your body, ghosting over your breasts, down your belly, and lifting your sweater slightly to get to your jeans. He makes light work of the button and zipper, his nimble fingers undoing the fastenings with ease, all while keeping his mouth on yours. You feel him tapping on your ass, signaling you to lift your hips. When you do, he shimmies your jeans down your legs agonizingly slowly, breaking the kiss to admire the bits of your skin he’s dreamt about for years. 

He tosses your jeans on his living room floor, and a timidity slithers up at the realization that you’re in your underwear on your best friend’s couch.  His broad hands rest on your thighs, letting you close them slightly, your shared shuddering breaths the only sound in his quiet apartment. 

“Getting shy on me, sweetheart?” He teases you, reading your mind. He knows you so well. You giggle as he slides his hands to your sweater, dragging it up your body, exposing your panties, shifting it higher and higher until the bottom hem of your bra is barely showing. He slides his hands under your top, expertly cradling your bra-clad breasts in his hands, letting out a restrained groan. The energy shifts and you whimper, watching his eyes locked on the way his fingers swim beneath the fabric of your sweater. You let your legs fall open slightly as Yunho slots himself between them, peppering your belly with gentle kisses and thumbing one of your pebbling nipples through the thin material of your bra. 

“Yun…” you sigh, running your fingers through his hair as he kisses you lower and lower, “please,” 

“Mhm,” he nods against your soft skin, shifting down to lay on his belly between your legs, hooking your knees over his shoulders. You feel his searing breath over your pussy, cooling the growing wet patch in your panties, making you clench around nothing. He picks up on your reaction, gripping your hips before blowing a steady stream of air over your sensitive heat. 

“Oh,” you breathe, wriggling under his strong grasp, spreading your legs wider for him. 

“You’re so reactive,” he murmurs, biting down on your inner thigh, soothing the spot with his tongue. You yelp at the sensation, covering your mouth in shock of the sound that just came out of you. Yunho chuckles darkly, “don’t hold back, baby, I wanna hear all the noises you make.” 

He hooks an arm over your hip so his hand rests on your mound. He grips your panties in his fist, pulling them up until the fabric slips between your wet folds, gliding firmly over your clit. You stifle a sob as he tugs them harder, biting you once more. 

“I thought I told you not to hold back, sweetheart,” he licks your skin again, soothing the angry bite mark that will surely be bruised by morning. Another tug of your panties has you mewling, one hand gripping his hair for dear life, the other blindly searching for anything to ground you. 

“Yunnie, please, stop teasing me,” you never thought your sweet and wholesome best friend could have you whimpering and begging beneath him, hardly having touched you. He has such a dark, dominating presence about him in this moment, and it’s making your head fuzzy. 

He lets go of your panties, swiftly pulling them to the side, exposing your wet heat to the cool air. You suck in a sharp inhale, finally bare to him.

“Fuck,” he moans, “look at you, baby,” he runs two fingers through your heat, the sudden contact making you cry out. He spreads you wide to see every inch of you, taking his time. “So pretty,” he breathes. 

“I need you, please,” you whine, “are you gonna make me keep begging?” 

“Baby, I’ve wanted to touch you like this for years,” he drawls, “let me savor it a little.” Before you can protest, he teases your entrance with two fingers, slowly thrusting them deeper and deeper inside you, little by little, until his palm is flush with your cunt. Your head falls back into the cushions, your chest heaving. You had daydreamed about how his fingers would feel inside of you, but nothing compares to the real thing. He pumps in and out a few more times before he curls his fingers, hitting the spot that makes your back arch. You grip his hair, tugging on it harder than you mean to, but you can’t help it. You miss the way his eyes roll back, his mouth hanging open at the pain. 

Yunho lets you guide his mouth to your core, his fingers keeping a steady pace as he uses his free hand to spread you open, swirling his tongue around your clit. 

“Yunnie…” you whimper, grinding your hips on his mouth. He nods against you, sucking your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the swollen bud over and over in time with his fingers moving in and out of you. Pleasure blooms in your belly as he works you, each flick of his tongue bringing you closer to the edge. 

“Feeling good, sweetheart?” He replaces his tongue with his thumb, circling your clit softly to ease you into the sensation. You push yourself down into his hand, needing more. He chuckles, applying more pressure until he feels you melting under him.

“Yes, so good Yun, fuck,” the pressure low in your belly builds rapidly, and you know if he keeps going at this pace, you’ll fall apart in no time. You prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him, and once your eyes lock with his you know you’re a goner. 

His hair is mussed from your tugging on it, his cheeks flushed, his mouth glistening, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple as he picks up the pace ever so slightly. He smirks at you, letting your legs fall from his shoulders so he can kneel between them again, sitting back to get a good look at you, never slowing his ministrations. You make the mistake of glancing down, your mouth drying at the sight of his cock pressing against the confines of his jeans. He hits that spot deep inside you again, and you fall back into the cushions, breathy curses falling from your mouth over and over. 

“You look so beautiful like this, fucking hell,” he drops his free hand next to your head, caging you in beneath him, watching his fingers pistoning in and out of you faster and faster, circling your clit in a matching pace. “Mine, mine, mine,” he repeats over and over, like he can’t believe this is finally happening. He brings his lips to yours, mumbling the words against your mouth as you nod wordlessly in agreement, the taste of yourself on his tongue making you dizzy. He kisses you down to your neck, nipping at your sensitive skin, praise after praise whispered into your ear. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” he emphasizes his words with a sharp thrust of his fingers, and you cry out at the sensation. 

“I’m yours, I’m yours— fuck!” You feel the cord in your belly tightening and tightening. 

“Good fucking girl,” he whispers in your ear, nipping at your earlobe, “come around my fingers, baby,” 

“Oh, oh,” you shudder underneath him, his words pushing you over the edge as your orgasm rips through your body, pleasure burning from the inside out. He kisses you hard, slowing his pace bit by bit to ease you through your climax, your body trembling in his hold. “Yunho,” you mumble into his mouth, “I’m yours,” you whisper.

“You sure are,” he peppers your cheeks with soft, tender kisses, your brain slowly coming back online as he slows his fingers, coming to a stop. “And I’m yours,” he kisses you gently, easing his fingers out of you, slipping your panties back into place. He lays down on the couch next to you, pulling your favorite throw blanket over your exposed bottom half, tracing hearts and stars on your skin while your breathing steadies, running his fingers through your hair as you let your eyes flutter closed. You snuggle into him, the warmth of his body keeping the flame in your core burning. 

“You are incredible, Jeong Yunho,” you giggle as he kisses every inch of your face, his soft lips mapping the details of your skin. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

“Why, because I made you come in 5 minutes flat?” His low drawl has desire coursing through your veins, part of you feeling embarrassed he can turn you on so easily with just his words. 

Your breath hitches as you nod, trying to keep your cool, but he knows you better than that by now. “You really like when I talk to you like this, don’t you, baby?” 

“Apparently I do,” you turn to look at him, a teasing glint in his eyes, his fingers dancing across the bare skin of your belly. “I’d love to hear what else you have to say,” you tease. 

“Well for starters, I want to take you to bed” His mouth hovers over the shell of your ear, the combination of his hot breath fanning over your skin and the vibrations of his deep voice have lust taking over your thoughts once again. “I want to fuck you properly, and we just don’t exactly have the space for that here,” you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh,” you giggle, his straightforwardness taking you by surprise. Just like that you’re throbbing for him again, your mind racing thinking about where your night with him is going to go. “I’d like that.”

Before he can catch you, you jump up from the couch, leaving your throw blanket behind, beelining for the hallway toward Yunho’s bedroom, giggling the whole way.

“Hey!” He laughs, clamoring up to chase after you. A few long strides and he’s caught up to you, right in the doorway of his bedroom. He hooks an arm around your waist and you yelp as he spins you around to face him, the momentum of both your running carrying you to the foot of his bed. The backs of your knees hit the mattress, but he holds you upright, pressing your body against his. Your eyes lock, both of you breathing heavily.

“Someone’s excited,” Yunho chuckles, giving you a firm kiss before pushing you back onto his bed. You let out a breathless laugh as you plop down on the mattress, pushing yourself to sit upright.  

“A little,” your hands find his torso, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He smirks down at you as you run your hands under his shirt and up his stomach to chest. He lets out a shaky breath at the feeling of your hands on him, and pulls his shirt off over his head, discarding it on the floor. You’d seen him without a shirt a handful of times, but this close he looks ethereal. Your fingers dance across his bare skin, reveling in the feeling of being able to touch him like this. You want to see more of him, touch more of him, taste more of him. 

“Yun,” you start, hesitant to take the lead. You slide your hands down his body until your fingers feel the smooth leather of his belt. Your eyes meet his, not breaking contact while you smoothly undo his belt buckle. “Can I?” You whisper. 

“You can do whatever you want to me, y/n,” he breathes, looking down to where your fingers are undoing the button of his jeans, sliding the zipper down slowly. You pull his jeans down, and he kicks them to the side, standing before you in only his boxers, his hard length pressing against the confines of the fabric.

His fingers lace through your hair, gripping it gently to tip your head back. Keeping your eyes on him, you slowly pull your sweater over your head, letting him let go of your hair to take it from your hands and toss it to the floor. You reach behind you, undoing the clasp of your bra, slowly sliding it from your body and dropping it next to your discarded sweater. Yunho’s chest heaves as he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, drinking this image of you in, dragging his gaze across your exposed chest.

“So beautiful,” his voice has dropped even lower, a tone you’ve never heard from him, the deep timbre stoking the fire deep inside you. “You are so beautiful,” he cups your face in his hands, bending over to kiss you softly. He parts your lips with his tongue as you rest your hands on his abdomen, sliding one down to palm his cock over his boxers. 

“Fuck,” he groans into your mouth, your fingers wrapping around him as much as you can through the fabric, stroking his impressive length as he licks deeper into your mouth. You pump him from base to tip, running your thumb over the wet patch at the head of his cock, drawing another guttural moan from his lips. Your mouth is watering at the feeling of him, but it’s not enough. 

You dip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, and Yunho breaks the kiss to watch you pull them slowly down, down, down, until his cock springs free, hanging heavy in front of you. You absentmindedly lick your lips at the sight of him, feeling the wetness in your panties growing. Lust prickles across your skin thinking about feeling him inside of you. 

“Yunho,” you sigh, wrapping your fingers around him, pumping him slowly as he stands up straight, tugging your hair in his fist to tip your head back again. “I want you to fuck my throat,” you whine, “please,” 

“Oh, baby,” he grips your hair tighter at your words while you stroke him, the sting making your cheeks warm, “you want me to stuff your pretty little mouth? Wanna wrap those beautiful lips around me?” Towering over you like this, you start to realize just how much he could overpower you, and the thought spreads heat through your abdomen. 

“Please,” you nod, “I wanna taste you,” you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out for him, keeping your eyes on his. You pump his length twice more as you guide his hips toward your mouth, dropping your hands into your lap as his tip rests on your tongue. 

“Mmh, so pretty,” he whispers, wrapping his fist around his cock, tapping his tip on your tongue before sliding past your lips. “If it gets to be too much, just tap my thigh, okay sweetheart?” 

You nod, wrapping your lips around him, sliding your tongue over the sensitive underside of his tip. His head falls back, a beautiful moan falling from his lips as you slowly start to bob your head. You take more of him, inch by inch until his cock taps the back of your throat. You swallow around him, and he absentmindedly thrusts deeper, chasing the sensation. 

“Fuck,” he groans, his grip on your hair tightening again as he holds you there. “I’m gonna move now, is that okay?” He brings his free hand to your cheek, caressing it gently as you nod in confirmation. As soon as you give him the signal, he pulls back slightly, rocking his hips slowly, savoring the feeling of your lips wrapped around him and your tongue gliding over him. “So beautiful with your mouth stuffed so  full,” he praises you, thrusting deeper into your mouth, down your throat, testing the limits of what you can take. He finds a steady rhythm, and you match his pace, bobbing your head and licking over every inch of him as he pumps in and out of your mouth, the stretch burning your throat deliciously.

You can’t take your eyes off of him, tears blurring your vision as you admire his lustful features. His furrowed brow, his blown pupils, his flushed cheeks. The bead of sweat dripping down the tip of his nose, the tensing muscles in his stomach as he pumps into your mouth… he looks so beautiful. You find yourself rocking your hips, grinding into the mattress, looking for any friction you can get.

He thrusts deep into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat again, and he holds you down on him, your nose brushing over his abdomen. The lack of air makes your head spin, and you want him even deeper. You reach up to grab his hips, but your hand bumps his thigh on the way up, which he takes as your signal that it’s too much. 

“Shit,” he pulls out of your mouth, and you gasp for air as he drops to his knees in front of you. “Are you okay, baby? I’m so sorry, was that too rough?” His eyes are full of panic and he brushes your hair out of your face, wiping the saliva that had bubbled up at the corners of your mouth. It all happens so fast, it takes you a moment to process the man waiting in front of you, waiting for a response. Before you can stop yourself, a smile breaks across your face and a giggle rises up your throat. 

“Yunnie,” you laugh, cradling his concerned face in your hands, “I’m fine, more than fine,” you try to catch your breath. “I was trying to…grab your hips to pull you closer, but I … bumped your leg by mistake,” his panicked face relaxes, a beautiful smile taking its place, and he lets out a deep sigh of relief. “I do appreciate how quickly you stopped though,” you tease him, your breathing finally steady, “it’s nice to know my boundaries will be taken very seriously.” 

“You scared me!” He laughs, dropping his head in your lap. 

“It was an accident!” You laugh with him, brushing through his hair with your fingers. “I actually wanted you to be more rough with me,” 

He straightens up. “Is that so?” He plants his hands on the mattress on either side of your hips, the darkness returning to his gaze as he stands again, leaning over you. You lean back onto your elbows as he towers over you, his eyes raking over every inch of your body. 

“It is,” you whisper, suddenly feeling so small beneath him, all lightheartedness suddenly sucked out of the room. “I would enjoy that very much,” 

“Mmh,” he hooks an arm under your waist, lifting you easily and moving your body further up the mattress. You let out a small yelp as he drops you, heart warming as he reaches above you to grab a pillow to prop under your head. Once he’s sure you’re comfortable, he hooks his fingers on your panties, and you lift your hips for him to peel them off of you. He tosses them to the floor, turning his attention back to you, spreading your legs wide open, kneeling between them.

“I would enjoy that too, however,” he runs his hands up your calves, your thighs, until he reaches your center, using both hands to spread you wide open. You watch in awe as he runs two fingers through your arousal, teasingly dipping them inside of you. “I want to savor every moment of this,” he dips down to kiss you softly as he drives his fingers even deeper, prodding that tender spot inside of you, drawing a whine from your lips. “Let me be gentle this time, let me show you how much I–” he pauses, something indiscernible flashing through his eyes. “Let me show you how much I’ve been wanting you,” he recovers. “Then next time,” his thumb flicks over your clit, “I will do whatever you want me to do to you,” he circles the sensitive bud, your mind reeling. “Does that sound good, baby?” 

“Mhm,” you nod, “so good,” you whimper as he scissors his fingers inside of you, surely trying to stretch you open for what’s to come. 

He reaches for the drawer in his nightstand with his free hand, but you stop him. “You don’t have to wear one,” you interrupt.

“Are you sure?” His fingers keep moving inside of you, stretching you wider with each thrust, but still giving your conversation his attention.

“I’m on the pill and was tested recently, so yes, please Yunnie, I want to feel you,” you mewl, “please let me feel you,”  

“So good for me,” he praises you over and over, “are you ready?” 

“Yes, please,” you whine when he pulls his fingers from your cunt, desperate for him. He lifts your hips, pulling you closer to him, nestling himself between your legs, being sure to adjust your pillow once more. He spreads you open with one hand, tapping the tip of his solid cock on your swollen clit before rubbing it up and down your slit, lining up with your entrance. You both freeze at the same time as the reality of what’s about to happen finally hits you.

The feeling of this moment is nothing you’ve experienced before. For years, you’ve longed for Yunho, wanting the intimacy of your friendship to go beyond just emotional intimacy. You’ve yearned for him as long as you’ve known him. You wanted him– all of him. Finally, the universe decided it’s time for you two to experience that. 

You realize he’s feeling it too, his hand finding your cheek in the silence, brushing away a tear that you didn’t realize had fallen down your cheek. “I know, baby,” he whispers, and that’s all you need to hear. 

He presses his lips to your forehead as he slowly pushes inside, easing you into the sensation, gently stretching you out on his cock. You feel grateful that he prepped you with his fingers, the sting you feel only lasting a few brief moments before he’s smoothly gliding into you. He pushes in deeper and deeper, until you’re filled to the brim. He drops his hands to the mattress on either side of your head as he bottoms out. Almost in unison, you both let out a shuddering exhale. 

“You feel incredible, fuck” he breathes against your forehead, finally pulling back to look into your eyes, your bodies finally connected physically in the way they’ve felt connected spiritually all these years. “And you look so pretty, my angel,” he whispers, his eyes shining. 

“I don’t know how you can still manage to make me blush when you’re literally inside of me,” you pant, shyly giggling as your cheeks warm under his loving gaze. He hisses at the way you squeeze around him when you laugh. “Sorry,” you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your giggles. 

“I’m learning so much about you today,” he pulls hips back slightly before burying himself inside you again, all teasing coming to an instant halt as the tip of his cock presses against your g-spot. 

“Oh my–” your back arches at the feeling, “God Yunnie, I feel so f-full.” 

“You’re doing so well baby,” he praises you again, giving you a moment to adjust to his size. “Look at you, so beautiful taking my cock.” 

“I need you to fuck me,” you scramble to grip his forearms, feeling the taut muscles under his skin. “Please,” you wriggle your hips beneath him, “move,” 

“Mm,” he pulls out almost completely, just the tip of his cock resting inside of you, “say it again, sweetheart,” 

“Fuck me Yunnie, please,” you beg, trying to push your hips down on his cock. 

“God, I’ve waited so long to hear you say that, I’ll never get tired of it” he slams into you, and you cry out as he bottoms out inside of you again. He sets a steady pace, rolling his hips into you over and over, the feeling of him pumping in and out of you more delicious than you could’ve ever imagined. He kisses you hard, licking into your mouth, swallowing all of your pretty little moans. 

He cups one of your breasts in his wide palm, running his thumb over your nipple, stoking the fire in the pit of your belly. He straightens, admiring how beautiful you look while you take him. Your lips red and puffy, your eyes half lidded, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. 

“So pretty, taking me so well,” he praises you as his hand coasts up your chest, fingers gently wrapping around your neck. He holds his hand there for a moment, making a mental note of the way your eyes light up when he briefly squeezes the column of your throat. 

“F-feels so g-good,” you choke out between thrusts. His thumb slides along your jaw toward your chin, prodding at your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open. You wrap your lips around his thumb, sucking on it briefly before he pops it out of your mouth, trailing it down your body until he reaches your clit. The contact has your head spinning, the cord in your center tightening and tightening as he flicks your sensitive bud. 

“Baby, look,” his voice cuts through the foggy lust in your head, grabbing your attention. He nods down to where your bodies are connected, gesturing for you to take a glance. 

One look at him splitting you open has your climax threatening to wash over you, warmth running up and down your spine at the sight of your arousal shining on his cock as he pistons in and out of your heat relentlessly. He swirls his thumb around your clit faster at the feeling of you squeezing around him.

“You close, sweetheart?” He’s breathless as he fucks you, hitting so deep inside you that you can feel it in your stomach. 

“Mhm, fuck, yes,” you cry out, scrambling for his free hand, lacing your fingers between his. 

“Come on, I want to watch you fall apart around my cock.” He’s fucking you impossibly hard, each thrust hitting just right, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. “Let me feel you, love,” 

“Oh my god,” you stammer out a string of curses as your second orgasm washes over you, your heart thudding in your ears as your body tenses underneath him. He barely slows his pace, keeping his thumb resting on your clit, fucking you through your high. 

“There she is,” he coos, slowing little by little until your body starts to relax. He thrusts all the way inside, bottoming out, collapsing over you. 

“Wow,” you laugh, bringing your hands up to cradle his flushed face. “That was,” 

“Incredible?” He finishes your sentence, kissing your sweaty forehead over and over. You let out a soft moan in agreement, and his cock jumps inside of you at the sound. 

“Mmh,” you whimper, the warmth creeping back into your belly, and you squeeze around Yunho’s cock. 

“Wanting more already?” He teases, pushing his hips against you, thrusting himself in even deeper. 

“Absolutely,” you squeeze around him again, craning your neck up to capture his lips with yours. “Fuck me however you want, baby,” you whisper against his mouth. His cock twitches inside you again and you giggle, waiting for his next move. 

“Flip over,” he pants, “I wanna fuck you like this,” he slips out of you and you whine, feeling empty. He helps you roll onto your belly, kneeling behind you as he pulls your ass in the air and plants a hand in the middle of your back, guiding you to arch for him. You squish your cheek into the mattress, trying to look back at him. “Fucking hell,” he palms your ass with both hands, admiring your delectable form, “you are unreal.” 

“Yun, please, I need you,” you whine as he bends over your body, planting hot, wet kisses up your spine until he reaches the nape of your neck, bringing his lips to your ear. You feel his cock bump against your backside, his body flush against yours.

“You are insatiable, my love,” your heart flutters at the word, but your lust pushes any overanalyzing to the back of your mind in favor of how desperate you are for him. 

You push back into him, feeling the tip of his cock bump against your heat. He straightens at the feeling, rubbing circles into your hips with his thumbs as he watches you move. You roll your hips, catching the tip of his cock between your folds, wiggling and rocking to find the right angle before it finally slips inside. 

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers as you push back, taking him deeper and deeper until your ass is flush against him. You start bouncing your hips, taking him in and out, slowly at first, the sounds of his moans filling your ears and soaking your center. 

“Feel good, baby?” You muffle from beneath him, moving your hips quicker with each bounce on his cock. You open your legs a little wider, the new angle rocking his cock against your g-spot. 

“The best thing I’ve ever felt,” he rolls his hips to meet yours, the sound of skin slapping filling the air of his bedroom. “I can’t believe how long we’ve waited for this,” he grips your hips, meeting your thrusts in earnest, fucking into you impossibly deep. You match each other’s pace immediately, moans and whines filling the air. 

He threads his fingers through your hair, tugging you upwards until your body is flush against his, your sweat-slicked bodies rocking together. His hand drops from your hair to wrap around your neck, holding you firmly in place as he threads his other hand between your legs, his middle and ring finger easily finding your swollen clit. 

“I want you like this forever,” he whispers in your ear as he drives into you, your motivation to bounce on him melting into the mattress beneath you. You want him to take you however he wants you, your body molding into his grip. 

“Forever,” you nod as he kisses your neck, “you have me forever Yunnie,” 

“Again,” he groans as you tighten around him, his fingers swirling around your clit, your third orgasm of the night building rapidly low in your belly. “Say it again,” 

“Forever,” you repeat, “I’m yours forever,” 

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m so close,” he growls into your ear, “you take me so well, like you were made for me,” 

“I was, Yun,” you assure him, “I was made for you,” he rubs your clit faster, “and you were made for me,” 

“God, yes,” he kisses your shoulder, his pace faltering as he gets closer to the edge, “I love you, y/n, fuck.” His fingers swirl around your clit as his hips stutter, spilling hot and fast inside of you. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he repeats over and over as he ruts into you. 

“I love you, Yunho,” you cry out, your heart exploding as your orgasm follows, your body shuddering against him as you come together, your words and his swirling around you in the afterglow. 

He holds you tight against him, guiding your spent form back down to the mattress, kissing every inch of your skin as you both come down from your highs. He slips out of you, lowering your hips, massaging your sore muscles before rolling onto his back next to you. You mimic his position, flipping over so you’re both staring at the ceiling, processing the words you both just confessed. You lay together in silence, the sounds of both of you trying to catch your breath filling the room. You let your eyes close, processing the moment.

“Jeong Yunho,” your voice is hoarse once you speak. “Tell me you love me.” Your eyes flutter open, turning your head to see him already beaming at you. He rolls onto his side, bringing himself nose to nose with you. 

“I love you.” He declares, clear and confident, your heart swelling in your chest. His lips brush over yours, both of you smiling as he kisses you softly. “Your turn,” he whispers. You copy him, rolling onto your side, brushing his sweat slicked hair from his forehead as he throws an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“I love you,” you giggle, kissing him again. 

“One more time?” 

“I, love, you,” you emphasize each word with a gentle kiss on his lips, 

“I will never get tired of hearing that,” he whispers. “Let’s go get cleaned up.” 

You whine in protest, but Yunho eventually gets you into the bathroom, running a hot shower for the both of you. You wash up together, hardly able to keep your hands off of each other. Once you’ve fallen apart in his hands twice more and the water’s run cold, he helps you into a pair of his boxers and his biggest, softest sweatshirt. 

“This feels like a dream,” you think out loud once you’re snuggled up in Yunho’s bed together. “Is this a dream?” 

“If it is, I never want to wake up,” he smiles at you under the dim street lights flooding through his windows. “This is all I need, forever.” 

You kiss him at that, soft and tender, his arms wrapping tighter around you, holding you close. You fall asleep shortly after, nose to nose, hearts full. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

You wake to the morning sun shining through Yunho’s bedroom windows, the sweet smell of vanilla flooding your nose. Stretching your tired limbs, you roll over to find the other side of the bed empty. Panic floods your mind at the sight, your past making you assume the worst. Is he sleeping on the couch? You wonder. Does he regret what he said and now he’s avoiding me? Before you can reason with yourself, you jump out of bed and speed walk down the hallway, stopping dead in your tracks when you reach the kitchen. 

“You’re not freaking out, are you y/n?” Yunho drawls, his voice still laced with sleep, low and raspy. He hasn’t even looked at you yet, his focus being on the plate on the counter in front of him, but he already knows where your mind is at just by the sound of your footsteps coming down the hallway. Of course he does. His bare, wide shoulders shake as he laughs to himself. His pajama pants hang low on his hips, the muscles in his back moving beneath his skin as he throws the final touches on what’s in front of him. He spins around to face you holding a plate of pancakes, littered with strawberries cut into hearts. Your heart flutters at the scene in front of you. “You think I’m gonna make love to you, tell you that I love you, and not make you breakfast in the morning?” 

Suddenly feeling self conscious over your immediate assumption that he regretted your night together, you cross your arms, avoiding his gaze. “I got scared,” you whisper. 

“That I left you in my apartment all alone? Baby,” he puts the plate down, “I would never, especially after last night,” he crosses the kitchen to reach you, pulling you into his warm embrace, his hot skin beneath you melting away the coldness you felt from waking up alone. “I’m not like…him,” he reminds you, brushing his fingers through your hair. “You are safe with me. Safe, loved, protected, respected, I could go on and on. Do you understand me?” He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 

You nod against his chest. “I do,” you feel a tear slide down your cheek, spreading from your skin, onto his. He squeezes you in a tight hug. 

“Come on, let’s get some food in your system. You haven’t eaten since our pastries at Blossom last night,” he releases you to grab your plate, as well as a second he made for himself, and drops another quick kiss to your forehead before carrying them to the coffee table in his living room. 

“Come sit,” he beckons you, and you follow automatically, plopping on the couch. He grabs your favorite throw blanket before sitting down next to you, draping it over both of your laps. No matter how hard you try to ignore them, negative thoughts are still plaguing your mind. You both pick up your plates, eating in silence for a few moments before Yunho speaks up again. 

“Y/n, what’s on your mind?” His tone is so sincere, you immediately feel guilty for making him worry. 

“I’m just–” you hesitate for a moment. “I’m scared it’s too good to be true.” 

“What is? Us?” Worry flickers across his features, his heart aching seeing you so distraught. 

“Yeah,” you sigh, poking at one of your pancakes with your fork. You know you’re being unreasonable, and that Yunho has shown you nothing but love and commitment as long as you’ve known him. But your self doubt and your history of awful relationships is screaming at you that you don’t deserve him. You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t even realize that you’re crying. 

Yunho gently takes your plate from your hands, putting both his and yours back on the coffee table. He shifts his body slowly until he’s kneeling on the floor in front of you, resting his hands on your blanket-covered thighs.

“Y/n, look at me,” he pleads. You wipe the tears from your cheeks, patting the dampness into the blanket in your lap. You rest your hands on top of his, tracing the lines of his veins for a moment before dragging your gaze upwards to meet his. His eyes are glazed over with tears of his own. 

“Yunnie, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, I–”

“Listen to me,” he interrupts. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. The most precious thing in this world to me. Each moment that I spend with you fills me with a joy that I never experienced until I met you.” He turns his hands over to cradle yours as his tears finally fall down his cheeks. “I love you. And I will spend every day of the rest of my life proving that to you. And proving to you that you deserve the love that I give you.” 

You stifle a sob at his words, trying to take all of it in as the beautiful truth. You know he means it, he’s always meant every word he’s ever said to you, and you know you need to silence your anxieties in favor of what you know to be true. 

“It’s gonna take time,” you whisper. “It’ll take time for me to believe that I deserve what you give me,” you wipe your own tears, then his, both of you laughing breathlessly at your own emotions. “But I will get there,” you continue, “I just need you to be patient with me.” 

“Of course. I will spend the rest of my life reminding you what you deserve, sweetheart. That’s a promise.” 

“I love you.” You cradle his head in your hands, memorizing every inch of his face, savoring the first day of the rest of your lives.

“I love you,” he kisses the tip of your nose. “Let’s go finish our breakfast in bed.” 

“Okay,” you giggle watching Yunho jump up to grab both your plates, giddily walking toward his bedroom with a wide smile on his face. 

“You coming?” He glances over his shoulder at you, his ears blushing bright red as he waits for you. 

You nod, hopping up to follow after him, to your new forever.

[loverindeepspace]

Is That My Shirt? // Caleb x Reader

Hi ya'll, it's been a while. The writer's block hit me hard, but I finally managed to write something again so this is for the Caleb girlies. He finally came home for this new banner so he gets a lil treat. Concept: (Pre-realtionship) You take the first step and kiss him first. Tags: Fluff, slightly suggestive, pre-relationship, first kiss, first make out session, rip veggies they died for a greater cause, references to past cards and myth, fem!reader, Pipsqueak used a couple of times. Word Count: 1507 Masterlist

“Pips, how many times will you keep bringing that up? I said I’ll make it up to you.” Caleb sighs as he follows you into your apartment, eyeing the coffee stain on the side of your shirt. 

“Hmmm I suppose I can let it go now, you’ll be cooking dinner for me afterall.” You glance at him, a smug smile on your lips as you lead him into your apartment. 

“Yeah yeah, I’m at your service today, My Lady.” He gives you a mocking bow, exasperation playing on his features.

“That’s a good butler, you go start on that dinner, I’ll go get changed.” You pat his cheek gently with a laugh, before making your way to your room.

“Yes ma’am.” A laugh escapes Caleb’s lips. Shaking his head slightly, he steps into the kitchen, letting himself get lost in thought as he starts prepping the food.

It’s been some time now since you last saw each other, so when he found out that both of you had the day off, he jumped at the opportunity to see you, making the trip to Linkon without a second thought. The two of you have started to take steps to mend what was broken now that some time has passed after everything that happened in Skyhaven. You have started to come to terms with the fact that the Caleb from your childhood and this new side of him were the same person, and it made it easier in a way, to interact with him, to forgive him. The joy that burst from his chest when you reached out to him again was incomparable to anything he’s ever felt before, and the more time you spent together, the more that joy blazed through him. With every call, every text, every shared smile, he felt closer to you. He wanted to badly, to reach out, to hold you, to kiss you.

But he did enough damage in the past, he needed to suppress the intensity of these urges, he didn’t want to scare you off just as you started to mend things. It always seemed like that, it was never the right moment, the right situation or time, to cross that line, to show you just how much he felt for you. Maybe one day, one day you’ll share these intense feelings, one day when you’re both ready to take that step. Even so, sometimes he tiptoed around that line, that day he was ill, that day in the garden, that day at the fair, so close yet so far, but that the fear of rejection stopped him every time. He could not stand the idea that you’d pull away, that he’d see disgust on your face if he kissed you. And so he swallowed his feelings, going back to teasing and poking fun at you, settling into the familiarity of it all before he ruined it.

Before long, he hears light footsteps coming from behind him, snapping him out of his thoughts, as arms wrap around him from behind. You feel him stiffen slightly at your unexpected touch. How curious.

“How’s it coming along? Can I help with anything?” Your voice is light as you peek around him, curious at what he was working on. 

He turns slightly to look at you, a teasing retort on the tip of his tongue, but falters when he takes in your appearance.

“Is… that my shirt?” A seemingly cocky smirk spreads across his lips, but his words stutter slightly as he notices your bare thighs peeking from the bottom of the shirt, his mind racing, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Nope. You lost the right to it when you died.” Your voice is playful as you move away to stand beside him, leaning back against the counter. 

The startled laughter that escapes him makes you grin back at him. It’s so refreshing to see him so carefree, the dark cloud that seems to follow him fading, the tension in his shoulders giving in as he spends more time with you. He almost seems like the old Caleb, the one from your childhood. 

“Ouch. Low blow, pips, low blow.” He nudges you with his elbow as he carries on chopping the vegetables in front of him. You reach out to poke him in the side in retaliation, but he catches your hand.

“Watch where you poke or there’ll be consequences.” His eyes narrow at you, but his words are amused. Of course, you reach out to poke him again, the shit-eating grin never leaving your face. And of course, he catches the other hand too. Now fully pressed against the counter, your wrists still held tight in his hands, you look up at him.

“I said there’d be consequences and yet you still persist. What should I do with you?” Mischief plays through his eyes, as he lets go of one of your wrists, his hand instead going to your side, poking just like you did to him. A squeal leaves your mouth as you try to squirm away from the offending appendage but with him caging you in, there’s nowhere to go. That fact doesn’t stop you from trying again and again. That is until you nearly escape his grasp, only to slip on the cold kitchen floor. You brace yourself for the fall but the arms around you stop you in your tracks, pulling you tightly against him.

“What am I going to do with you, Pipsqueak, when you even trip over nothing? Where’d that hunter's gracefulness go?” He sighs fondly, but his words trail off slightly when he notices just how close the two of you are, faces only inches away from each other.

His face is all you see as you feel his breath catch in his throat. Your eyes widen as you take in the situation you’re in, slight shock settling into your frame. Or was it anticipation? His violet eyes scan your face, looking, searching. For what? You think you know. His gaze is filled with a longing, a yearning that has been present for as long as you remember, as his eyes dart between your own and your lips. Is this it? Is he finally going to take that step?

His breath fans your face. It’s warm. 

Minutes, hours, tick on by, the silence filling every corner of the room, the tension thick enough to be cut with a knife. 

Just when you think he’ll lean in, he starts to move away, eyes breaking away from yours. 

Coward.

Before you can even think, your hands fly out, grasping his collar, pulling him back closer to you. And finally, finally, your lips meet his. His lips are chapped, rough to the touch, but it feels just right. Just like you always imagined and better. So much better. You feel him tense as his mind catches up with the situation and for a passing second, you think you fucked up. You pull away, and it’s your turn to scan his face, waiting for anything to show you that you made the right move. 

You don’t wait long as he lips crash back to yours in a desperate and searing kiss. There it is. You have waited so long for this moment, the moment the two of you crossed that boundary, took things down the path you always knew you both wanted. To be able to kiss, to touch, to love each other freely. Your arms weave from his collar to around his neck, pulling him closer, as his large hands engulfed your waist in an iron grip, the counter at your back trapping you against him. The moment you feel his tongue press against your lips, you part them, allowing the kiss to deepen further. Your lungs scream for air, but you don’t dare pull away, you have waited too long just to break this moment. You feel him shift slightly and for a moment you feel weightless, until you find yourself sitting on the counter, Caleb settled between your bare, parted legs. Your fingers caress his hair as he presses close and you hear him give a content hum into the kiss. 

BANG.

The loud sound of a crash next to you snaps you away from the kiss, as you notice the chopping board, along with all of the veg Caleb was cutting earlier, on the floor. The two of you must’ve knocked it off the counter in your enthusiasm. 

Still catching your breath, you turn back to Caleb with an exasperated look, “This is why we can’t have nice things.” Even with your deadpan words, a grin plays on your swollen lips. 

Ignoring your statement, you feel his arms encircle your waist as he rests his face on your shoulder, breathing laboured.

“Fuck, Pips, you have no idea what you do to me.” he whispers against your skin, and you feel your face flush.

“I can definitely make an educated guess.” The giggle you let out borders on devious, your hands still running through his hair.

[gothcsz]

First Sight | Frankie Morales x F!Reader | ~3.5k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Two strangers discover they’ve been swapping movies through a communal space, each leaving a note in return until curiosity forces a meeting.

Tags: meet cute kinda i think, drug use (smoking weed), the movie swap box is definitely inspired by little free library, pwp, smut, lust at first sight vibes, thigh fucking!, spanking, unprotected p in v, face riding, lil bit of dirty talk, pull out method strikes again, no use of y/n, reader is afab and able-bodied, no physical descriptions, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay, thanks!

A/N: helloooo this is my submission for @jolapeno's dear-uary challenge (i know i'm late pls...) so thank you jo for hosting! such a fun idea! 🖤 okay so i'm not usually a meet cute person but i wanted to challenge myself by writing it, which is why this took me forever to finish! i'm still a little iffy about the results and frankie's characterization—but fuck it, we ball! gotta start somewhere! shoutout to @mandaloriankait for reading over this as well when it was still in its early stages lmfao ummm i hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think! 🖤

Francisco stands at the edge of his uncle’s property, staring at the house he now owns. The old man had lived like a ghost in his final years—ex-military (like himself), a recluse, barely seen except for maybe an occasional grocery run.

Now that he’s passed, the place is Frankie’s problem.

He planned to sell it, take the cash, and move on. But after really assessing it, taking in the sturdy bones of its structure, covered in grime and dust but still holding strong, he changed his mind. Maybe fixing it up would be good for him. 

Lord fuckin’ knows he needs something to get his mind right after all the shit he’s been through.

So that’s what he devotes his time to. He takes many trips to the local hardware store, flips through home improvement magazines to find tricks to make the process easier. On occasion, one of the guys will drop by to lend a hand, but for the most part it’s just been him. 

It also helps that the neighborhood is quiet, houses spaced out just enough to offer privacy but close enough that it isn’t completely isolated. A large pond stretches out, shared by the community, and it’s the kind of place that could feel like home, if he lets it.

Needing a break from the endless cleaning and repairs, he decides to go for a walk. The nicotine-laced weed dulls the edge of old cravings, a quiet battle he fights every day, choosing this over the harsher habits he’s trying to kick.

He wanders without aim, hands tucked in his pockets, the low hum of insects filling the gaps in silence. Something catches his eye as he approaches the end of the street—a small structure, half-concealed beneath the spill of a streetlamp.

Curious, he ambles closer. The old newspaper stand has been given new life, converted into a makeshift movie and book swap. Inside, a careful arrangement of DVDs and dog-eared paperbacks wait to be discovered. His fingers trace over the spines, skimming titles until he stops on one—Blade Runner.

As he pulls it out, a green post-it note, scrawled in neat, looping handwriting, flutters to the ground.

Always a bittersweet watch (I cried this last time) but it’s a comfort movie of mine. Also helps that Harrison Ford is a hunk!

His brows raise in amusement, as if weighing the personality behind the words. He pockets the note and takes the movie home.

Later that night, he’s sprawled on his couch, half-buried in old blankets, takeout on the coffee table as the film plays. He watches as Deckard moves through the neon-drenched streets, the melancholic score settling into his bones.

He doesn’t cry, obviously, but he does walk away from this viewing with something different than when he had watched it back on base years ago with the rest of the other lost twenty something year olds in his cohort.

By morning, he’s still thinking about the movie and the note along with it. On impulse, he plucks one of the carpenter pencils from his toolbelt, tapping it against the counter before messily scrawling his reply on the corner of a random sheet of his notepad.

The movie/book trade idea had been something you created back in high school—before the cynicism of adulthood had shattered your rose colored glasses.

Now, after financial setbacks had dragged you back to your childhood home, bringing it back felt like the kind of mindless distraction you needed. Something to keep your hands busy (even if temporarily) when your brain wouldn’t shut up about how shitty things have been lately.

Most people just stream whatever they want now, so this is pretty useless, but you don’t get hung up on that.

There is something nice about the physicality of it. Of leaving something you enjoy behind for a stranger to find and potentially be into as well. So, you revamped the idea and set it up in a spot where it wouldn’t be totally ignored, hoping maybe someone out there would get as much out of it as you used to.

You check in on it one afternoon, expecting to see everything exactly where you left it. Instead, you find empty spaces where movies had been. A book was gone too.

Your heart skips, just a little. For the first time in a while, something doesn’t feel like a total waste of time.

You spot a note haphazardly taped to the cover of the Blade Runner DVD case.

Didn’t cry, but I respect the existential crisis. Also think I agree with the Harrison Ford statement.

A grin pulls at your lips, eyeing the messy handwriting. Someone was actually playing along.

Over the next few days, the exchanges continue. Each time the stranger returns a movie, they leave a note and a film of their own. It is exhilarating for no reason, getting to know someone in this way.

Disagree with your take, bad movie all around, but I see where you’re coming from.

At least you aren’t an asshole about it like everyone else…

…Didn’t expect to be into period dramas, but this hit different. You have decent taste.

I do have decent taste, thanks for noticing!

It became an obsession—checking the box first thing in the morning, wondering what he’d taken next, what he’d written.

Who was he? What did he look like? Most of the neighborhood was made up of older residents, so the idea of someone more your age participating in this felt strangely intimate, almost like a secret conversation no one else knew about.

You never ask for a name or anything, neither does he. It’s more fun this way. The animosity of it, but still, you can’t help but wonder what he is really like. Was it possible to crush on someone like this? Were you actually down this bad?

You finally meet him one night.

Movie in hand, he stands beneath the golden hue of the streetlight. Strong jaw, high cheekbones, full lips that look almost too pretty for someone as rugged as him, framed by a patchy beard. His worn t-shirt clings to his broad chest and toned arms, the fabric stretched just right, hinting at the solid muscle beneath.

His cap sits low, his dark curls peeking out along the edges.

Your gaze drags over him, drinking him in. His eyes meet yours and the lust you feel in that moment threatens to disorient you.

“Hello,” his raspy voice breaks the silence first, also shameless in the way he checks you out.

“Hey.”

For a moment, neither of you move as the tension simmers, absentmindedly taking a step towards each other.

He shifts, rubbing a hand along his jaw. “You the one leaving those notes?”

“Depends,” you tease, tilting your head. “You the one writing back?”

His grin widens just slightly, a lopsided thing that sends the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. “Guilty.”

You cross your arms, attempting to play it cool. “I was starting to think I was talking to old man Paul or something.”

He lets out a quiet chuckle at the fact that you’ve named his now dead uncle. “Close enough. I’m his nephew, Francisco—call me Frankie.” He extends his hand to shake yours and you feel yourself getting hot all over from the simple, normal fucking interaction, giving him your name in return.

His hands are so big.

“Nephew? I didn’t know he had family.”

“Not really a family man. He passed away a few weeks ago and I was the lucky one he left his house to.”

You’re about to express your condolences, but it’s like he can feel it coming before the words even form on your lips. “Don’t—it’s fine. I hate that pity shit.”

You laugh, a little nervously, though his brown eyes seem to settle your nerves. 

“Well, Frankie,” you say his name, as if testing it out, familiarizing your mouth with it. “Thanks for playing along with this,” you motion vaguely to the swap box.

“I like it. Keeps me entertained while I fix up the place...” He exhales, glancing at the smaller structure before looking back at you. “It’s weird, though. Feels like I already know you.”

You nod, feeling the same. It should be strange, standing here at night flirting with a man you really don’t know… but it isn’t. 

He lifts the DVD in his hand. Heat—classic crime thriller. “I was gonna watch this tonight.”

The invitation hovers, your tongue flicking over your lips in anticipation.

“You in?”

A smarter version of you might have hesitated. Might have thought about the risks, the potential awkwardness. But standing here with Frankie watching you like he already knows what your answer is, hesitation isn’t an option.

You grin. “Sure, why not.”

Things escalate fast.

You’re sitting on the couch, the low hum of the movie playing in the background, the two of you exchanging quiet comments between drags of the joint he so effortlessly rolled.

The space between you shrinks. His fingers graze your thigh, intentional but unhurried.

You don’t remember who moves first. Maybe it’s you. Maybe it’s him. But your bodies are pressed together, mouths hungry, hands wandering. His cap gets flicked off, curls spilling into your fingers as you tug him closer, inhaling the scent of smoke and tasting the candy he’d been snacking on.

The movie is forgotten. The joint smolders in the ashtray. You straddle his lap, rolling your hips down, and he groans against your mouth, gripping your waist.

Somewhere between deep drags of each other’s kisses and the slow, filthy grind of your pussy against bulge, he requests, “Let me taste you...” Biting at your lower lip, kneading your ass.

You’re not about to object to a man willingly wanting to go down on you. Nodding, you both quickly undress each other, your want for him only increasing with each layer that gets shed.

Now you’re here. Your thighs bracket his jaw, the arm of the couch supporting you as you sink down into the urgent heat of his mouth. The first slow, wet drag of his tongue at your slit makes you moan pathetically. 

His fingers dig into your hips, pulling you down like he wants this—like he needs this.

The scratch of his scruff against your sensitive skin makes it all the better. He’s not gentle—he’s messy, hungry, eating you out like it’s all he’s been thinking about since laying his eyes on you. His tongue flicks, circles, then flattens as he drags it up through your slick folds, his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking just right.

Your head tips back, a broken cry slipping out.

“God, you’re so good at this,” you gasp, rolling your hips against his talented mouth.

Frankie groans in response, the vibration of it sending sparks up your spine. His nose presses right where you need it, and you swear you see stars when he starts moving his head with you, matching your rhythm, letting you ride his face.

Your fingers tighten in his curls, tugging hard. He grunts as one of his hands slides lower, wrapping around his leaking cock. He strokes himself in time with his tongue working you over, his other hand gripping your ass, spreading you wider to get a better taste of all of you.

You don’t even realize how desperate you sound, whimpering… pleading. Your grinding then shifts as his tongue goes taut and you start bouncing softly against his jaw, your hips swiveling in ways you didn’t even know you could move, your body instinctively chasing after his mouth.

He doesn’t let up. If anything, he gets more into it as you do, his tongue fucking into you before moving back to your clit, his swollen lips working magic, sucking, teasing, wrecking you.

“Fuck, I’m gonna—”

Your words melt into a strangled whine as your orgasm crashes into you, your whole body shaking while you come apart on his tongue. Frankie doesn’t stop—he eats you through it, his grip on your hips tightening as you ride out every last wave of your orgasm.

Then—smack.

Your eyes fly open as his palm connects with your ass, the sting mixing with the aftershocks in the best way possible. He does it again, harder this time, a smirk tugging at his lips when you jolt.

The sting of each spank feels so fucking good that you start sobbing, damn near pulling the hair out of his scalp when he harshly sucks on your clit.

He’s been holding himself back from finishing in his fist, but suffocating between your thighs while hearing your pretty noises nearly undoes him.

Continuing to stave off his own release, he grips the girthy base of cock tightly. He needs more. Needs to feel the walls of your pussy squelching around him, pulling him in deeper.

And from the way you’re looking down at him, mouth parted, eyes shining with satisfaction, he knows you need the same damn thing.

He maneuvers out from under you quickly and efficiently, his dexterous training being put to use, pushing your upper half flat into the old couch while your hips remain in the air, thighs pressed together.

Francisco slides the fat tip of his cock through the swollen lips of your pussy, getting himself wet, groaning deep in his chest before pressing his heated dick at your silky thighs, the lubrication of your juices making it easy for him to slip between them, the pressure against his cock having him curse beneath his breath.

“So fuckin’ soft.”

His left hand crosses at your lower back to grab at your right hip while the other lands a harsh smack to your ass. You whimper, but the sound is muffled from how your face is buried into the cushions.

He soothes over the sting with his palm before gripping tight again, using the leverage to thrust between your thighs, the thick weight of his cock teasing you with every stroke, your clit puffy and dripping, needing to feel him inside you.

“Put in, Frankie, please,” you whimper, the squeeze at your thighs causing your cunt to clench around nothing, pushing more of your slick out, pussy drooling for him.

He grunts, pressing a firm hand to your lower back, arching you deeper, adjusting the angle. He spreads you enough to give himself room to line himself up.

“So eager for this dick,” he taunts, swirling the head of his cock at your clit before tapping it repeatedly, the evidence of your horniness clinging to him in a sticky web with every smack.

Frankie teases you by running it up the seam of your pussy, notching it at your fluttering and needy hole before pulling out and repeating the action, driving you crazy. “You always put out this fast?”

You grind back against him, pushing onto your elbows, voice breathy but flirty. “Could ask you the same thing.”

He doesn’t reply, a smug smile on his lips as he finally gives it to you, sinking into the wet cavern of your cunt, groaning out a Fuuuuuck as your pussy stretches around the intrusion of his cock.

You try to moan, to say something, but no sound comes out—just a desperate gasp, eyes falling shut, fingers clawing at the rough couch fabric as he fills you completely.

He doesn’t rush. He takes his time, savoring every squeeze, every tremble. His thrusts start slow, deep, rolling his hips just right, pulling out almost entirely before pressing back in, making you feel every thick inch.

“Fuck, you feel so goddamn good.”

The heat of his body blankets yours as he lowers himself, his weight pressing you deeper into the couch. His mouth is everywhere—kissing up your spine, nipping at your shoulder, his mustache scraping against your oversensitive skin. When he bites down you whine, your cunt clenching tight around him.

His thrusts speed up a notch, somehow getting deeper and harder—grinding into you just right, making your breath stutter.

“Yes—yes—right there,” you sob, turning your head to look at him… or well, try to look at him. Your eyes are glazed over with thick tears of euphoria, barely able to make anything out but you can feel him everywhere. His breath fanning against your face, a small amount of spit stuttering out as he grunts, burying himself over and over inside your tight, wet pussy.

Your nails dig into the old, tacky couch, trying to keep yourself somewhat grounded as he screws the thoughts right out of your brain.

It’s everything you’ve needed. Life has been fucking you over relentlessly as of late, it’s about damn time you finally get a pounding that’s actually worth it. 

Frankie groans against your ear as he keeps up the brutal pace. “Pretty movie girl likes it deep, huh?” You could honestly get off by just the sound of his raspy voice. “Shit, never had it like this before, have you?”

You shake your head—not out of denial, but because fuck, he’s right. Nothing has ever felt this good.

His lips brush over your cheek and then he’s kissing you sloppily, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. You moan into his mouth as the pleasure at your pussy blooms again, your second orgasm creeping up fast under the weight of his praise, his cock hitting all the right spots, stretching you wide.

Frankie growls into the kiss, pulling back just enough to watch your face as he ruins you.

“Gonna make you come on my dick,” he mutters, gripping your chin, making sure you’re looking at him while he fucks into that one spot that devistates you. “And you’re gonna take every fuckin’ bit of it.”

And God—you will. You want to.

Because you already know this is the type of sex you’ll be feeling for days.

A few more relentless thrusts, and you’re done for. Your body shakes beneath him, muscles seizing, wails and sobs absorbed by the cushion your cheek is pressed into.

“Shhh just like that, doin’ so good—shit this pussy is amazing.”

Frankie holds you down, his weight keeping you exactly where he wants you. His grip shifts to the armrest, fingers curling tight, using the leverage to piston into you rougher. The couch jerks across the hardwood floor with each thrust, the force of it sending shockwaves up your spine.

The end credits song plays somewhere in the background, barely audible over the obscene sounds of your fucking.

His breathing gets ragged, his rhythm faltering as he chases his own high. He pulls out abruptly, chest heaving, and licks the tips of his fingers before spreading your pussy open, angling his cock right at your slick, swollen cunt.

Hot ropes of cum spill from his slit, milky and thick, painting your used flesh, dripping down onto the couch beneath you. The sight is filthy, so fucking erotic it makes his cock throb in his fist.

He groans at the mess, at the way his release pools against the cleft of your clit. He pushes inside again before either of you can think, his cum and yours mixing as he fucks into you, more fervently this time, dragging out the pleasure until his cock begins to soften.

You’re too spent to do anything but take it, too blissed out to care. All you know is that you want this again. Over and over and over...

“Damn,” Frankie chuckles, still breathless, his curls damp with sweat. His hands move lazily over your body, tracing the curve of your spine, your waist, your thighs, before he leans over to grab his discarded gray tee.

He doesn’t think twice before using it to clean you up, wiping between your legs with a casual ease.

You hum in response, floating somewhere between the high of the weed and the sex. You could crash right here, stretched out on his couch, and be perfectly content.

“You good?” The hot edge of lust has barely cooled when he’s touching you again, stroking his big, warm hand up and down your back.

You don’t nod, just manage a lazy, “Mhm… just need a second.”

He smirks and a wink is thrown in your direction before he stands, sliding his sweatpants on and fixing the couch to its original position before disappearing into the halfway renovated kitchen.

You stretch your limbs, pulling your clothes back on with no real rush. Your body is warm, loose. When Frankie returns, he hands you a glass of water, and you thank him softly, realizing how parched you are when you down the whole thing in one go.

“We didn’t finish the movie,” he muses, lounging back on the couch like he hadn’t just given you the best sex of your life.

“Bummer,” you tease, looking at him over your shoulder.

His gaze flickers from the screen to you, a glint in his dark eyes catching in the glow of the TV.

“You could stay the night,” he offers smoothly. “We could watch somethin’ else… maybe fuck some more too.”

His head tilts slightly, curls messy and inviting. The broad expanse of his naked chest gleams, rising and falling with steady, easy breaths. And then there’s the soft bulge in his sweats, evidence that he’s not nearly as spent as he looks.

Your mouth damn near waters.

You narrow your gaze at him, playful, challenging. Frankie mirrors the expression, watching, waiting…

You both move at the same time.

[kenjakusbraincum]

Hi, i can’t help but request this because you write so beautifully.

So I just had the idea of a former ballerina being sacrificed to Sukuna. She does her work good and gracefully but she longs for old times where she was able to dance and feel like she’s flying again. So she does it in the evening in Sukunas garden. He of course notices and as culture lover he is he makes her his personal dancer. And a cute lil love story forms from this scenario.

I would be so thankful if you form this to a proper story because i don’t have enough imagination. Love your work

Thank you for the compliment! I apologize in advance for my butchered descriptions of dance scenes and hope you like what I came up with anyways <3

Swan Lake

Sukuna x Reader

Word count: 6.3k

Tags/warnings: gn! reader but the words maid, whore and bitch are used, true form! sukuna, bullying, fluff with a very brief and soft smut scene at the end!

Sukuna doesn't care where his servants come from. People get offered to him all the time, and he takes them when he feels his palace is understaffed. And that happens quite often, considering how eagerly Sukuna gets rid of his servants for the smallest inconveniences. His staff is disposable to him, having no value beyond the services they provide him with.

So he doesn't know about your past. He doesn't know you were once an esteemed entertainer. He doesn't know that you were touring the world, sharing your art with audiences of all different classes and ranks in society. He doesn't know you were once the star of the stage, hypnotizing people with the fluidity of your movements in rhythm with the music. He doesn't know you were snatched from fame, taken against your will and brought to him to pay your capturer's debt. You're not sure he's even properly looked at you, much less heard your capturer tell him who you are. You were that worthless to him.

Now you are but a maid. You spend your days on your knees, mopping blood soaked floors. At night, you share chambers with dozens of other servants. Privacy is a foreign concept in Sukuna's palace. You are not entitled to it even in the bathroom. Everything is shared for the servants. There's no space for you to even try to indulge in your beloved profession, even as a hobby. Except...

The garden. Most servants are in bed, prepared to sleep, but your eyes linger on the windows. In every way, going to the garden would be to your own detriment. Losing sleep was dangerous, it could lead to getting caught slacking off, or being ratted out about it. And the consequences for that... well. One could only imagine it wouldn't be a simple slap on the wrist.

Still, you longed for this. The work you did during the day drained you, it was repetitive and soulless. You weren't made to clean floors. You were made to dance, it was your destiny. Since childhood, you don't remember a period of time as long as this one, where you haven't had the opportunity to enjoy your passion. Tears stung your eyes as this revelation found you. Every day, you could feel your life slipping through your fingers. You were alive, but your energy, your liveliness, your personality, all of it was dissipating in the pools of blood you were forced to clean.

''Can you be quiet? Some of us are trying to sleep.'', a servant who sleeps in the bed next to yours snaps you out of your thoughts. You are sobbing. You apologize quickly, and snuggle in bed, trying to muffle the noises against your deflated pillow.

But sleep just doesn't take you that night. You grow more and more frustrated, as time passes and you toss and turn in bed. Eyes wide open, fixed to the window across you. The garden lures you, calls for you. Damn it. You have to try. This is not much of a life anyways, you think. Sooner or later Sukuna or Uraume would find faults in what you're doing anyways, and you'd be served for dinner. You don't exactly have a lot to lose.

Sneaking out of the chambers is easy. You spent your whole life on your tippy toes. No one moves in their sleep as you cross the room, open the door and slide through the crack. Quietly, you make your way around the mansion. Outside, you're greeted by a light summer breeze. The garden is eerily peaceful, lit by the moonlight in this late hour.

You start to warm up, hopping, circling your neck, swinging your legs. Feeling the stretches in muscles you forgot you had. The grass tickles your legs as you splay across the ground and reach for your feet. Then stand and shift your weight to your toes, feeling out how rusty you've gotten in the time you've missed out on practicing. It's not too bad.

So you start out slow. The music plays in your head and you mouth silently, counting the rhythm. Your eyes are glued to the ground, you're trying not to trip and fall on the uneven surface. Your movement feels as smooth as it did before, but you can't see yourself in the mirror to check your form. You close your eyes, surrendering to the cadence of your motions. The music carries you, and as you turn into a poised second arabesque, time seems to slow. It's only a moment, but when you turn back to continue...

Slam. So hard you start to fall back, but his arms catch you around the waist. If you weren't scared out of your mind you would've wondered how did he even show up there without you noticing. But of course, he's Sukuna. You look at him with eyes so wide you think they may fall out, and he stares back with an amused smirk. Then he bites the air in front of you, clanking his sharp teeth together, and you scream in response. His hand flies to your mouth in an instant and he shuts you up.

"Quiet now. You wouldn't want to wake your colleagues up, would you?", he tilts his head, observing your terrified expression. "Or do you want everyone to slack off with you tomorrow?"

"I-I won't slack off I promise!!!", you panic, hands shaking as you bring them up in a defensive stance. Tears pool in your eyes as you stare death in the face. He is... weirdly beautiful, lit by the moonlight. And he holds you sturdily, but gently. It doesn't hurt. And he doesn't seem particularly mad.

"Is that so?", he asks. There's a smile on his face, but it feels dangerous, threatening. Like everything else about him. "Then just what do you think you're doing outside at this hour?"

"I was- I was dancing -", you stutter, struggling to form coherent sentences. Why are you so close to him? You're pulled flush against him. You can almost feel his -

"I didn't know I had a dancer in my ranks. Why didn't you say so?", he says, and surprisingly lets go of you.

You're so sure he's playing with his food. You're so sure he's going to slice you into pieces. You've already crossed so many lines, broken so many rules. You look to the ground, only now remembering eye contact with him was strictly forbidden.

"Speak.", he growls, audibly irritated by your refusal to reply.

You didn't think he was genuinely asking. What the hell are you supposed to say? Why didn't you say so? Maybe because you wanted to see the light of day again? "I ... A lowlife such as myself has no place speaking to your Highness.", you duck your head low in an apologetic manner. And he seems satisfied, smiling playfully again. Except you don't see it, you feel it. Sukuna's presence pulls the most demeaning, self-depricating things out of people's mouths.

"Humble.", he comments and walks a couple steps around you. He's huge. "Go on then, dance for me."

You stand frozen. It's not that you're ashamed... you've performed for audiences bigger than you ever could've imagined. But the weight of his stare is harder to bear than that of hundreds. And the stakes are higher than ever. He has to like it, or else...

"Dance!", he orders sternly, and crosses his arms over his chest. So you give it your all. Remembering where he interrupted you, you get back into position and start. Dance. Your life depends on it, doesn't it? Well if there's one thing you can do to save your life it should be this.

But it's not like before. Fear seeps into every muscle in your body, and your movements are unsure. Every jump is fleeting, every landing shaky. Tears blur your vision, and it's so hard to keep your breathing steady when you're struggling not to cry. But you're a ballet dancer, you were trained to endure. You finish the variation, cross your legs and gracefully bow.

Sukuna watches intently with narrowed eyes, like a predator stalking his prey. You can't see the sly smile on his face, but you can feel it.

"I apologize, your Highness.", your voice trembles. "It wasn't my best."

Sukuna huffs in amusement and waves his hand dismissively. "Go to sleep.", he orders.

You bow before him again, and quickly turn back towards the mansion. You don't feel relief from his piercing stare until you disappear behind a corner in the hallway.

You can't shake the feeling when you're back in your bed, snuggled in the sheets up to your eyes. You just survived a close encounter with Sukuna. And he must've liked what he saw at least a little bit, if you're still alive.

The next morning, you wake up and start getting ready for work with the other servants. The bathroom is busy, and as there's little else to do in the servant circles, gossiping starts immediately.

"Did you hear the scream last night?", the servant taking up the sink next to yours says, tapping foundation into her skin.

"Screams come from Sukuna's chambers all the time. It must be a new pet getting used to him.", another one replies. You shiver.

"Everyone knows how that sounds. This was different!", the two maids exchange a look.

The second rolls her eyes. "So, he killed someone. Nothing new.", she shakes her head.

"No. Uraume would've called someone to clean it up immediately.", the first servant continues. You really, really wish they would just drop it, until... "Hey you.", she turns to you. "Your bed was empty last night, did you hear anything?"

Your blood runs cold. "I was... feeling sick. And went to the bathroom.", you say quickly. "I probably couldn't hear... over the sound of throwing up."

"Hm.", both of them look at you now. "Well you look sick too.", one of them says. "Be careful with work today.", then they finish up and leave. You breathe a sigh of relief and finish up getting ready.

The next few days pass spotlessly. You don't cross paths with Sukuna. But some nights, you feel his presence in the garden. You stretch and practice simple movements in the bathroom, when no one's around. And the variations, you save them for the garden. At night. The only time you feel alive, the only time you feel like yourself. Human. Free. You think you might just get away with no one knowing, but then...

He walks past you and another maid while you're scrubbing the floors in the hallway. Both of you freeze as he passes by, assuming a submissive position and greeting him. You pray he won't notice, pray he won't know you by your voice, but he stops. Right by you, and then there's a moment of silence. He lifts his foot, touching your chin, and nudges you to look at him.

"Oh.", you watch his stern expression soften. "It's a shame for a talent like yourself to waste away on their knees.", he says. You look to the servant next to you, and she mouths a silent 'what?' as she turns her head in your direction.

You swallow your shame. It's not the first time you had to in front of Sukuna. "Its an honor to serve you, your Highness, even if it's on my knees.", you say.

Sukuna hums. "What a good servant you are.", an amused smile graces his face once again. "Well, get to rubbing then.", he nudges your face back downwards with his foot, and walks away.

You and the servants keep rubbing intensively, until he's out of sight and a couple minutes have passed. Then she grabs you by your shoulders and gives you a look that is both terrified and angry. "You did what with Sukuna?", she asks.

You frown, offended. Why does everyone in this mansion immediately think of that? "He knows I'm a dancer.", you say simply and look back to the floor, rage brewing in your chest.

"When did you do it. Was it you screaming? Oh my god it was!", the revelation hits the servant and she puts her hands on her cheeks, looking at you in shock.

"It wasn't me!!", you lie, agitation showing in your voice.

"Does he really have two dicks?", she asks.

You drain the washing rug and smack her in the face with it. "You disgusting pervert, how dare you ask that about your master!"

"You hit me! Whore!", she smacks you back, but harder, and her rag is full of dirty water.

"I'm not a whore!!", you cry, and wipe your face with your dirty, wet hands.

"Dancer. Yeah right, I can only imagine!", she throws the wet rag on you, and it sits on your lap, soaking you in the nasty liquid. "And you're a liar too! How shameless!"

"What is this commotion about?", a voice calls from the back of the hallway, and you turn around with teary eyes. Uraume looks like a blob of white in your vision, nonetheless they're recognizable.

"Tell them! You hit me, you little bitch!", the servant slaps your shoulder. You don't have it in you to fight back. The injustice pains your heart, and you can't bear the embarrassment.

Uraume smirks, noting your disheveled appearance. Your whole uniform is soaked now, even your hair. There's a pool of water forming around you as the liquid seeps out of the rags. "Clean this mess immediately. Master will be notified of this issue.", they say, and walk past the two of you.

The servant looks at you with contempt burning in her eyes. Then spits in front of you. "Clean.", she says, takes the rag you hit her with and starts cleaning.

Sukuna sees you that evening. He sits on his throne, head in his hand, and looks down on you and the other servant. He hides his inner smile, the joy he takes in executing power over others. And it's you again. He asks what this is about, and the servant wastes no time pointing her finger at you, saying you hit her first.

Sukuna's critical stare turns to you. ''Is that true?'', he asks, scanning you from head to toe, noting the state you're in. He's not particularly happy to see you like that.

You timidly nod, admitting your fault in the situation. Your stare is fixed to the ground, where dirty water drips down from your soaked clothes. You smell, and look like a rat, all of that in front of Sukuna. You wish the ground would swallow you whole and spare you this humiliation.

But he knows you. You've captivated him. Otherwise he wouldn't have cared to ask if you have anything to say in your defense. You tell him, omitting the details of her perverse question, you simply say she was slandering his holy name.

Sukuna moves, leaning his elbows on his knees. You care about his name? How lovely. So what is this slanderous thing his servants fought about?

Silence. You and the servant exchange uncomfortable looks. If there was one thing the both of you could agree on for the day, it was that repeating it in front of him was too vulgar. With that, Sukuna quickly grows bored with the situation. When he raises his hand, both of you flinch, expecting immediate punishment. However, nothing happens when he flicks his fingers. You're dismissed.

Quickly, both of you scurry away, leaving the throne room and going back to your jobs. The rest of the day is harrowing. The rumor spreads among the servants quickly, and you are the butt of every joke. You hear whispering and giggling behind your back, and everyone's stares linger on you as you go about your day. The culmination happens next morning, when the servants are getting ready in the bathroom, and the insults start getting more direct.

''Show us how you dance for Sukuna, why don't you?''

''Did you take both at the same time?''

''He didn't like you very much if you're still working as a servant.''

And then everyone goes quiet. When you turn around, you see Uraume at the door, their eyes fixed on you. ''Come.'', they say quietly, and leave without waiting for you to catch up. Well, it seems your punishment is due. You gladly leave the bathroom and follow them down the hall, anything is better than spending another second with the other servants. But now that you think of it, where is the servant that shares your punishment? Have you even seen her this morning? Or after the meeting with Sukuna at all?

You turn a couple corners, and stop at the end of the hallway. Uraume opens the doors to a room, and ushers you inside. What is this? It's furnished. Modestly, but... You open your mouth to ask a question, but you're quickly cut off.

''Make yourself at home.'', they say, and turn their attention to you.

''What about my things?'', you ask, looking around the room, then back to Uraume.

''You won't need them. Do you have good table manners?''

''Uhh.. yeah... I think.''

''Great. You dine with Master Sukuna tonight.''

''Huh!?''

''Your outfit is on the bed, be ready by sunset. I'll come to pick you up.''

Then the door closes and you're left alone in your new room. This isn't what a punishment should look like. Not when a beautiful kimono waits on your bed. Not when there's a barre fixed onto a mirrored wall, and there's a box on the ground, and when you open it, you find pointe shoes. Multiple pairs. He didn't know what size to get you. Ribbons, a sewing kit, glue, scissors... everything you need to break them in. Under that, a simple black leotard and a wrap skirt. By all means... this looks more like a reward.

You try everything on, find the perfect pair of shoes, and test them. It's not a big room, but there's enough space for you to practice with the bar. For the first time in so long, time passes quick. You're doing something you enjoy. It feels like in a blink of an eye, your shadow gets long on the wall opposing the window, and you have to get ready for dinner. You put the kimono on to the best of your ability - you don't have the opportunity to wear it often as a servant, being usually restrained in a uniform. And then reality hits you. Sukuna wants to have you over for dinner. This... is this a date? Unless he was planning to eat you, but you suppose he wouldn't have bought you shoes and furnished a room specially for you if that was the case... Come to think of it, what are you eating tonight?

Uraume knocks on the door, and takes a long look at you when you open. They fix your collar and nod, taking off down the hallway and expecting you to follow. They lead you to the dining room, vast and expensively furnished. You hear your heartbeat drumming in your ears. You only let your eyes explore for a second, before you fix them back to the ground and lower your head in Sukuna's presence.

''Your Highness.'', you bow in his direction.

''Master from now on.'', he says, and stands up to greet you. Master. You've only heard Uraume, and occasionally his pets, when he'd walk by with them, call him this by this... less formal title. He towers over you as his hand touches your shoulder, urging you to turn around. You follow obediently, making a circle and displaying your outfit.

He hums in approval. "Suits you much better than a cleaning uniform.", he says, and pulls your chair out for you to sit. You mutter a quiet thank you and sit down, already overwhelmed by the interaction.

He sits on the other side of the table, facing you. You can't bear the intense eye contact, and the silence that spreads across the room. Your eyes are fixed to your hands in your lap. ''Don't be shy now. I didn't invite you to sit there and be quiet. I reserve such duties for my pets.'', he breaks the silence.

''Master. Sharing a meal with you is a privilege, and I want to thank you for that. I'm not sure I'm deserving of it, though, and how my company may be of use to you.''. The kitchen servants scatter around the table, bringing food and pouring drinks. Various appetizers decorate the table, and only now do you notice you're hungry. You shyly pick the foods that catch your eye the most.

And your humility draws out a smile from him. ''You are an artist. And I am a man who takes great joy in consuming art.'', he says, and taps his finger against his glass, watching you pick. He's getting to know you, through your taste in food.

''I didn't know that about you.'', you say and look to your plate. You feel your hand shaking as you reach for the cutlery. You know Sukuna is judging every move. He was in your territory when you were dancing, now you're on his. And he will recognize the smallest mistake.

''Oh.'', his tone changes. It sounds like he didn't particularly like that comment. He finishes chewing. ''Did you take me for a savage?'', he narrows his eyes. More food is brought to the table, plates come and go quickly as the conversation progresses, and the tension grows.

You stutter, reading his volatile mood. ''I've only heard rumors.''.

He huffs in amusement again. ''I've heard rumors about you too.'', he says, leaning into the table. ''To be fair, I was asking around.''. So he took interest in you. ''They say you were the best there was, until you got captured.''

You chew slowly, taking his story in. He continues. ''They asked about you. Asked if I knew where you are. I said no.''. Sukuna watches as you grow visibly distressed by the mentions of your team. ''The best there is? What a wonderful prize. I'd rather keep you to myself.''. Oh. So that's what this is about. He gets off on the thought of owning you, the best there is, just for himself. You curse whoever told him about you. ''You showed me your worst, and mesmerized me. I want you to show me your best. Dance for me. Convince me you're worth my patronage.''.

The servants bring the main dish, and your head droops, stare fixed into the finely decorated red meat. You touch it with your cutlery, feeling it's texture. Sukuna eyes you as you cut a slice and bring it to your mouth, expectantly waiting for your reaction. You chew slowly, savoring the taste, but your expression is puzzled. ''What is this?'', you ask. And to make sure it doesn't sound like you're unhappy, you cut another slice. Truthfully, the food is incredible, but... you can't quite place the meat.

Sukuna bares his sharp teeth in a grin. ''Veal.''.

The conversation steers into a different direction then, and you quickly forget about how powerless you felt just moments ago. Sukuna is nothing like you've imagined him. He's right, you did take him for a savage. After all, everything you've heard about him pointed to a monster, who only took pleasure in wreaking havoc and destruction. Now, you find him to be eloquent, knowledgeable, and quite sophisticated. In a way, he appears similar to the other people you've met through your job. But way more powerful, and with it, way more intriguing.

Once again, time passes quickly, slipping through your fingers. The dinner is over, and you're facing Sukuna at the door. He seems to be pleased with your company, if you can read his face at all. ''Should I consider my offer accepted?'', he inquires. ''Everything will be provided for you. You just have to dance.''.

Well, it doesn't sound half bad, does it? You're not sure if the terms of the offers convinced you, or his presentation during the dinner. It might just be him. He made you feel you wouldn't be a jester, but a respected entertainer. And not for just anyone, but for a man as thoughtful and cultured as Sukuna proved himself to be. ''For you, gladly. Master.'', you smile at him. And he smiles back, taking your small hand into his, and planting a soft kiss to your fingers. You bow to him, wish him a good night, and you part ways.

Later, in your new bed, you find yourself replaying the interaction. Tracing his features in your memory. It's the first time you've had the chance to observe him, without fear of consequences. And he was beautiful. So elegant in the way he dressed and carried himself. Like a true king.

From then on, life in Sukuna's mansion is a game. Sukuna courts you in his dining room, feeding you delicacies from all around the world Foods that are hard and expensive to come by, that you've never heard of before. He courts you with the things he allows you to do, and the gifts he gives you. You dance and eat and walk around his garden and library. You don't dine with him every night, but when you do, rest assured that a new outfit is waiting for you in your room when you get back from practice.

And you court him on the floor, with feathery leaps that leave him on the edge of his seat, and dizzying turns that force him to focus all four eyes on you. You court him when you finish the variation by bowing before him, on one knee, a breath away from where he's sitting. And when you look up at him, he sees a lover rather than a personal dancer. Even though he's never touched you, or pressed his lips to yours.

There is love in the foods he picks for you specifically to enjoy, and there is love in the way you let him watch you practice. Even if you mess up, misstep and fall out of rhythm. Even if you stumble and fall in the most unceremonious of ways. There is vulnerability in letting him see you fail. It only happens a handful of times, but when you slip before him, you feel more naked than you would ever feel with your clothes off. And the relationship that the two of you foster grows intimate, despite the formal distance you keep from each other.

And that distance closes in, one day when Sukuna is there during a particularly nasty fall. You yelp when you hit the ground, and reach for your ankle, checking for injury. You only notice Sukuna when you feel his hand on your shoulder, and his brows furrowed in worry as his head looms over you. Your eyes meet for a moment, and you're hypnotized. Then you look away quickly, feeling your face heat up from the closeness.

''It's nothing.'', you say, and look down.

''Sure?'', Sukuna asks and stands up. You nod, and he offers you a pair of his hands, to help you stand. You take them, and he hoists you up effortlessly. And now you're face to face with his chest, and you're still holding his hands... ''That should to for today.'', he says, and when you look at him, there's a tender smile on his face. It sounds like a suggestion, but you've learned Sukuna is subtle about giving you orders. You nod, dust yourself off and untie your shoes.

That night, you recall his touch on your skin. Long fingernails ghosting over your shoulder, sending shivers through your whole body. You never expected Sukuna to have it in him to be gentle. But, that wouldn't be the first time he's broken the mold you thought he fit. And now in the cold of night, you find yourself craving him.

The next time you're invited to dinner, the tension is almost unbearable. ''Aren't you a sight to behold?'', he tells you when he welcomes you into the room. He always gives you compliments, but tonight they weigh heavy on your heart. You look across the table and curse every plate and glass that stands between the two of you. You look at him with quiet longing, and you think he knows. Because his smile is victorious, almost teasing. And when you accidentally hit his leg under the table, you start to credit it less to his size, and more to him deliberately crossing into your space. Subtlety is not a word you ever thought you'd attribute to Sukuna, but it seems this is the way you've established communication. You resist the instinct to remove your leg apologetically. So they stay touching.

Unfortunately, this little interaction slowly turns your brain into mush. By the last bite, your hand is trembling and you know you don't have the precision to pick up the last piece of food with your chopsticks. So you leave it on the plate, and wait for a moment when Sukuna is at least a little bit distracted, to attempt eating it again.

But such a thing doesn't happen. Today, he looks at you like you're the food on his plate. "Come on, eat it.", he nods in your direction. You can't read his expression, but it seems benevolent.

"I'm so full.", you make up an excuse.

"Just one strip.", he nudges your leg under the table, and you flinch, cheeks heating up.

"I.. I think I'll combust.", lies.

"I'll be offended.", Sukuna plays along with your game.

"Ah...", he wins, and you pick up your chopsticks with shaky hands. But as hard as you try, the little piece of food keeps escaping you, traveling through the plate.

"What makes you so flustered today?", he asks. "Is it the leg?". You blink at the plate, and feel your face going as red as the wine in your glass. "Come.", he waves his finger at you. You lean into the table, used to following his commands. And in no time, he is looming over your plate, one hand picking the last piece of your food with his chopsticks, and the other gently taking hold of your chin, nudging your mouth open. You part your lips obediently, and he places the bit onto your tongue, never breaking eye contact. His face is mere centimeters away from yours, observing you as you chew.

And the moment you've swallowed, and opened your mouth for air, he seizes you in a kiss. Slow, as he tastes your lips, and lets you adjust and catch up with him. He feels you go tense with the initial shock, then relax in his hold and kiss him back. His tongue brushes past your lips, and you think you'll sink right through your chair, and into the earth beneath the floor. The taste, the smell of him, so expensive and intoxicating. If this moment could last forever -

Foolish you. So much stress and tension, and you barely notice how quickly it passes. , how quickly his lips leave yours. His eyes scan your face, making sure you're alright, and then he's back in his chair. "There.", he says, "Have something to be flustered about."

That night, you think about his lips, slipping away from yours and moving to your neck, collarbones, shoulders. Not stopping until they've explored your whole body and touched your soul.

In the meantime, you practice your chosen choreography to perfection. And when you're standing in his throne room and awaiting the music, and your deciding performance to start, it's the first time in a while that you recognize feeling nervous. Uraume is there too, and his other disciples and guests. But he is the only one that matters. The only one your life depends on. Although the times when your life was truly on the line are long gone, Sukuna is still your patron, and now it's your turn to either satisfy or disappoint him.

The music starts, and the nervousness wanes as you start dancing. Sukuna's gaze is heavy, critical. He's seen you do this times and times already, but now it's final. Now, he's telling you, ''Bewitch me.''. Now, you're joining it together, one seamless show just for his enjoyment. And with every spin, you keep your eyes fixed on him. Enticing him with your movement, seducing him.

And for once, time passes quick for Sukuna as well. He finds himself lost in your dance. In your quick glances, in the way your body moves, contorts, withstands your weight on your tippy toes with so much grace and fluidity. You make it look easy. You nail the landing you failed so many times before his very eyes, perfectly, effortlessly. He almost wonders if you fell intentionally when he was watching you. And he's captivated. By the end of your performance, you earn his smile. You earn the clap of his hands, you even earn his standing ovation. The king himself, honoring you with the highest form of praise.

''It takes quite a performer, to entertain a crowd all by oneself.'', he comments later, over dinner. ''You've convinced me. You're worth keeping.''

''And when I can't dance anymore?'', you ask.

''You'll still be able to eat with me.'', he says.

At the doors, he bends down to kiss you again. You anticipate it, and accept it, kneading your hands through his hair. He asks if you're tired, and you shake your head no. He asks if you want to come with him. Yes, please yes, you've wanted to for so long. You almost thought he'd never ask. Again, his face lights up in a victorious smile.

He walks you through the halls, to his quarters of the mansion. Vast, and decorated with various works of art. They hang on the wall, or stand on the cupboards in forms of statues of various sizes. Sukuna likes to collect things, if that wasn't evident by your presence in the mansion.

''You're dragging behind. Did you have a change of heart?'', he asks, and extends his hand towards you. You step closer, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. You're standing at the doors of his bedroom.

''I was just admiring the interior.'', you smile at him, and take it upon yourself to cross the doorstep. His bedroom overlooks the garden, through a tall set of windows, little plants sitting on his windowsill. And his bed is massive. You think it could fit four people of your size. But then again, Sukuna is not a normal sized person. Your hand finds the mattress, testing it's sturdiness. And when you turn around, he's right behind you. Towering over you, and forcing you to look up at him, like the king he is. But you're not scared. You have no reason to be.

''Lay down.'', he orders, but his voice doesn't sound stern. Still, you obey, climbing into the bed. And he follows, letting you ease into the pillows only for a moment, before he settles above you, urging your legs apart. You welcome him, finally feeling the closeness you've been craving for so long. His body, big enough to enclose you completely under him, so carefully pressed against yours. Light enough not to hurt, but heavy enough to establish power. To give you what you want, what you've craved for a very long time.

He never lets you forget whose grasp you're in. He folds your smaller body with ease, adjusting you to his liking. And you let him, trusting him with your body and pleasure. He takes you gently, slowly, making sure you're comfortable in the process. You feel so full of him, but it's not enough, not enough until all of your senses are overwhelmed with him. You feel up his muscled arms and back, wrap around him, pull him closer with every stroke, every swipe of his lips against yours. Sukuna draws the moans out of you with practiced thrust of his hips, hitting spots inside you you didn't know existed. In no time you're seeing stars - his four eyes, never leaving yours as you come apart.

And Sukuna is stoic for the most part, but by the end of it, even he is loosing his composure. Hungry moans slip past his lips, his brows furrowing as he concentrates, trying not to let out too soon. You encourage him, babbling sweet nonsense into his ear. This flustered Sukuna, completely engulfed in the chase of his own pleasure, is as close as you've come to seeing a god. Moments later, his hips still, and you feel his muscles tense as he reaches completion, deep grunts filling your ears like the sweetest music.

You lay in his embrace, and trace your fingertips over his tattoos. Your stare is fixed on him, as he tells you various anecdotes from his long lifetime. You enjoy the opportunity to admire his beauty from up close. His eyes, so unusually benevolent as they stare outside the window and turn to you from time to time, to check if you're awake. The curve of his nose, the glimpses of his sharp teeth, his strong, masculine jawline. He is an art piece on his own.

After a while, he notices you struggling to stay awake. His hand on the back of your head nudges you to lay on his chest. He whispers you a good night, and runs his hand through your hair as you drift off. It's been a long day you've dedicated entirely to him, so he finds you worthy of this special treatment. After all, it isn't often that someone claims the title of both Sukuna's personal dancer and his lover, much less in the same day.

[ghoulphile]

i want this man to do gross, disrespectful, unspeakable, borderline illegal things to me

⭐ inbox | discord | ao3 ⭐ requests: temporarily closed | tag lists: open last updated | 6/6/24 notes | i'll update this post as i continue to write. fics will be 18+ unless stated otherwise ❤️ requests closed so i can catch up on the ones already submitted - will be opening up again soon!

🍒 sticky fingers the ghoul x reader one-shot | 18+

“Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal.”

🍒 janey's dad cooper howard x reader two-shot, part one | 18+

“We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --”

🍒 run rabbit run the ghoul x reader drabble, request | 18+

the drabble thing HNNNGH think about coop calling you bunny from the start bc he clocked that you were always a down for it and you not getting it until he after you fuck for the first time

🍒 in the middle of the night the ghoul x reader drabble, request | 18+

Cooper watching you sleep. Its a quiet night. nothing but bugs passing by. Cooper keeps watching, and his mind wanders. cut to him "borrowing" your soft and smooth hand, pulling it from under your makeshift blanket and wrapping it on his dick, jacking himself with your hand bc he's bored/trying to pass the time/stay awake

🍒 wish you'd make me cry the ghoul x reader drabble, request | 18+

"You’re such a needy fucking brat." :3c

🍒 dog days pre-war cooper howard x reader fluff, request

I was wondering if you'd write something about maybe prewar/postwar (either one) cooper where his love is a bit sick (not life threateningly so ect) and he just takes good care of them

🍒 it's always the quiet ones pre-war cooper howard x reader drabble | 18+

We can see that Cooper tends to go for good girls but what if he ran into a seemingly innocent - or at the very least kind - person… but they dirty talk like a sinner in the sack?

🍒 no use cryin' over spilled milk the ghoul x reader one-shot | 18+

based off this ask; trying to survive topside after growing up in a vault is hard enough, but doing it five months pregnant? it's a good thing you find the ghoul when you do.

🍒 i can taste your skin in my teeth the ghoul x reader drabble request, wip | 18+

drabble request thingy: "you're so wet and I haven't even touched you" and/or "aww... you're pathetic" I feel like these go so well together in a very mean(super hot) way >:)

🍒 use me pre-war cooper howard x reader drabble request, wip | 18+

for the drabble request "I want to use you so fucking bad" with pre bomb coop?

🍒 don't threaten me with a good time the ghoul x reader request, wip | 18+

how do you think our ghoul would handle having a breeding kink?

🍒 in the collision of your kiss pre-war cooper howard x reader wip | 18+

"As I live and breathe, that's Cooper Howard! Why, he must've cost a fortune -- how ever did you get him to agree to attend a children's party?"

🍒 criminal tongues the ghoul x reader request, wip | 18+

Could I get and aggressive smut with coop like he hasn't had any in 200 something years ! Hes needy and wants it NOW

🍒 finders, keepers the ghoul x reader request, wip | 18+

Cooper wants people to know the reader is *his*, and she best damn well know it to. If she doesn't, he'll have to show her

🍒 god is a woman pre-war cooper howard x reader request, wip | 18+

If you don't mind of making cooper howard/the ghoul being submissive or treating reader like a goddess of a smut?

🍒 bury all your secrets in my skin the ghoul x reader request, wip | 18+

I was thinking how it would be to be the first to get him to take all his clothes off since the bombs fell. Being the first to get him to be vulnerable in this way. If you would write this I would be very grateful.

[clubsoft]

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⠀ ⠀ SWEET TOOTH cherimoya . ⠀ ⠀ JEY USO / POC ! F ! READER

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summary · jey is tasted , savored . tags · spit / drooling / all of the above / oral ( m receiving ) swearing / use of pet name (baby) / sub - ish jey / 3rd person POV ; no use of Y/N / if there's spelling errors , no there's not word count · 456 notes · this pic actually woke me out of my wrestling writing hiatus so yall have no one but jey to thank for this . consider it a lil one shot from the cherimoya verse !! enjoy <3

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Sticky gloss-prints dot the bristly hairs on his lower belly, pink tongue laps downwards, following the trail where it naturally leads. Rock hard, his cock calls to her, awaits her. Spit tracks over his pelvis, pretty mouth slobbering all over his flesh — like an animal starved, salivated around its bared teeth. No. Not her. Not his baby. Pretty teeth, plush lips, soft against his skin. Her sweet tooth, his body. She touches, loves. He’s in good hands, he’s at ease like he knows it. He does know it. 

Thick fingers comb through unruly tufts, back to her nape, grip her body of hair as much as his hand allows. Her own, smaller, shakier, circles his cock, strokes it upwards, slow. Her wispy lashes are uncurtained by her locks, emerging wet, dewy with unshed tears, dark eyes beholding him, glittering, hungry. Jey tugs, forces her mouth from the curls at the base of his cock. Drool honeycombs from her chin. He chuckles, pats her cheek with his free hand. 

“Miss me that much?” His voice rolls out, low, melodic in its own right, and she nods, tilts her head as though the answer was obvious. Her hand squeezes around him, careful, glides down to his base, and up again. Jey’s unsteady sigh is heard, taken as an invitation. She dips forward, flattens her tongue below his tip, tasting, soaking in his flavor. A lollipop on her taste buds. Sugary. An unhurried twist of her fist, a hum from the bottom of her throat, she pushes forward. One deep, pleasured noise at a time, her mouth takes him, selfless in the way she goes until her eyes squeeze shut, tears pearling at their corners. He draws her back with a strangled groan, his swollen tip remains between her plump lips. Her cheeks hollow, she flashes her gaze — sucks, almost unraveling him then and there. 

His body jolts. Jey fights to keep his head upright, trembling digits reaching for her. 

“Lord, baby, hold on…” He cradles her face in both hands, the pads of his thumbs against her temples, urging her closer, his mouth aimed for hers — she shakes away. 

“No.” 

Jey’s eyes widen. The word feels foreign between them. He’s incredulous as he repeats it, “No?”

“No,” she repeats firmly, pressing her cheek to his belly. Her hand shifts, sets an easy rhythm. Not enough to make him cum, but enough to steal away every other word from his tongue. “I wanna stay here, just a little bit longer.” He receives a falsely chaste, coy grin, spit-slick lips latching below his tip, sucking, making his eyes flutter and shut. He keeps them closed, breathes in deep. His response, untimely, wobbly, brings her to giggle.

“Fuck… fuck you… fine.” 

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taglist · @babynueva / @luvrsluxe / @uceyliyahh / @uceypunk / @punksyeet / @chasssssworld / @ctinadiva / @bookuce / @bratzzzdoll / @mselenalovebug / @sheaabuttaababyy / @partypoison00 / @meemee444u / @pr0wlerpunk / @queeny23 / @mingisfavgf / @brianochka / @prettyfilmz / @jay-mach / @almostempty if u would like 2 be added 2 my tag list 4 my fics , pls click this link && fill out the form !! u will be added immediately && get a notif for my next fic !!

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[biibini]

Its okay if you dont wanna do this but i really wanna know what you think mizu would do when reader gets her period

modern!mizu x reader gets her period (request)

tags: period, cuddling, fluff, kissing, modern au, modern mizu, mizu being best girl

a/n: ok midterms r coming up so soon HAHAHAHAH (im so nervous)

modern!mizu would def have the supplies

but i’d feel like she’d carry the lighter, smaller pads

but on most days, mizu would be a tampon user

to ur surprise, she typically uses panty liners for the majority of her period

and even if she does get a heavy period, she can handle it on most days

(yeah im fucking jealous i wish that was me)

like perfect silky hair and thin pads???

mizu my girl

hand those genes over

anyways

she would have aspirin and a hot pack on hand if u need it

when she was growing up, they used to be super heavy but now they've become lighter

if ur a heavy flow typa gal,

oh lord its extra packs for mizu to buy

at first, she would be rlly confused at the sizing and the number of flaps/extensions the pads would have

and what specific color to buy

(iykyk my heavy flow girls will know)

but she doesnt mind, u need them

as long as her girl is covered and safe and sound

if ur a tampon girl, mizu would double check to make sure she got ur brand when she goes shopping

modern!mizu would notice ur cycles, especially the week beforehand when ur rlly moody

whether its u being acting more impatient or upset than usual

she checks and makes sure that she has the necessities at hand

if she doesnt, she’ll say she’s just gonna run some errands

technically its not a lie

she does go to the closest convenience store

but the errands in question: pads/tampons and something sweet

(personally im a chocolate sweets girlie)

she’ll get u a lil sweet treat that’ll last u for a week or two

modern!mizu would also pour an extra cup of tea for u before bed

she just wants u to be as comfortable as u can be during ur period

and if u guys are cuddling and watching something before bed

she’ll make sure to keep u comfortable

“Mizu, pleaseeee. Just one more episode?”, you plead. You guys had just finished the second to last episode of the show. Sure, you felt a little tired. But the thought of moving and crawling off of Mizu’s chest didn’t outweigh the comfort of the couch.

Mizu sighs.

“You always do this and then you end up falling asleep.”, Mizu states as she grabs the remote control.

“Not necessarily-“, you rebute. Technically, she wasn’t wrong with your history of falling asleep. But not this time.

“Mmhmm. Right…”, she responds, a little sass in her tone.

You pout. “Please. I promise, I’ll stay up.”

You place your warm cup of tea aside, allowing you to wrap your arms around Mizu’s neck. You feel the heat of her neck against your forearms.

“Besides, it’s the final episode.”, you smile. You look at Mizu for sign of defeat.

“Ok fineeee,” she clicks on the next episode button, “Stay awake now. I’m not summarizing it this time.”

You plant a kiss on her cheek, pulling her closer to your body. She places her mug next to yours and letting her arms wrap around your body. You feel the warmth of her hands press against your body, almost burning from the hot tea.

“I promise I won’t.”, you assure as you sit back against Mizu’s chest again. You feel Mizu’s arms relax and allow you to prep yourself before watching the finale.

Mizu smiles as she felt your body lay back on hers. Your weight alongside the blanket you’re sharing relaxes her. You feel her arms gently wrap around you again as you hear the intro to the episode play.

Her hands start to drag along your sides to your stomach. You feel her burning palm place itself on the top of your lower stomach. Its presence shared a similarity to a heat pad.

You hum in response. While her right hand is busy drawing attention to your lower stomach, you feel her other hand wrap around you and pull you closer. You feel her lips lightly graze your shoulder.

“Mizu, it feels good but-”, you say as her right hand starts to gently massage your stomach.

Fuck. That feels so nice.

You hold back a groan. “Not here, hon.”, you say as you nod your head towards Ringo’s bedroom door.

“I know, don’t worry.”, Mizu responds as she places a soft kiss near your neck. “I just want you to feel comfortable now. You’re on your period, right?”

You nod in response.

“So c’mere. I’ll keep you nice and warm.”

modern!mizu would put ur towel in the dryer while u shower

ik its oddly specific

but i feel like she would make sure to make u feel warm in any way possible

with or without heat pad

same concept applies for the blanket

shes always so thankful her and ringo got an apartment with an in-unit washer dryer

when ur washing up, she’ll typically be doing some light studying with some tea before bed

a break inbetween would be the pop the towel in the dryer

next break is swapping out the towel for the blanket

final break is bringing back the blanket right before u get into bed

its a strange strategy but it helps her stay focused and paces herself while synonymously taking care of u

modern!mizu would make sure she’s wrapping her arms around ur lower stomach when ur cuddling at night

the heating pad gets annoying to sleep with

especially if u tend to toss and turn at night

but having her hands warm u helps u relax at night

when ur trying to sleep, she’ll gently caress and massage ur stomach to help release any tension

at first, u thought it wouldnt have an effect on u

but the more she did it, the more relieved u felt at night

mizu would also feel relaxed knowing that u r relaxed as well

when she heard ur snores, she knows shes done a job well done

[mer-acle]

I think I already need more on Modern Athena

very fair XD

Some funfacts (why do i have the feeling I'm just gonna dump Athena's trauma again)

Metis died in a car-wreck when Athena was only a couple of years old. She had been raising Athena on her own until then because Zeus very ironically accused her of cheating and Athena not being his kid. (Which isn't true, you can tell from how alike Ares and Athena look.) Athena was in the car as well and was cut out of the wreck by firefighters (with an axe because mythology. sorry Ath). She has no memory of it but she doesn't have her own car to this day, she takes the bus or Ares drives.

Ares is never viewed that way, but he is in almost every way the more functional sibling. He takes to living on his own incredibly well right away, he loves cooking, has his routines, just has life down. Athena can cook, but she only does so when it's for both of them, not just for herself. Ares is very often like do you even know people are supposed to have three meals a day? (Her standard reply is "Maybe I'd know if I'd studied medicine instead")

Speaking of, Athena studies Law. She is not too happy with it but it's what her father expected and now she's like four semesters in so we ain't quitting now. She is good at it ofc, she's an academic prodigy, but it is really not good for her

Athena's boarding school was located by a lake (not a safety hazard at all) She knew how to swim, but a couple of the kids pushed her in once and held her under to scare her, and she stayed the hell away from bodies of water ever since.

Ares' and Athena's last name is Dean bc it's close in sound to (pan-)theon lol Aphrodite's last name is Vincent bc it's close in sound to Venus, and yes, both of these will only be used as "Miss Dean" bc saying "Athena Dean" makes my skin crawl lmao (also yes I know these are American names bc this AU is very much for fun so I'm setting it in "Hollywood America" to cut down on research)

Athena has an owl plushie her Mom made for her by hand. She inherited her Mom's sewing machine and alters and fixes all the clothes in her family

Both of the siblings are into sports, though Athena has a lot less time for it. She's the agile one, has pretty impressive rockclimbing skills and used to be in fencing class in school bc that boarding school was bougie af. Ares is more of a gym guy and does martial arts, he's in a new dojo now bc of the move, but he used to train the younger kids and would like to do that again soon.

Athena works part-time as a transcriptionist to pay her half of rent. She is very efficient and fast with it which is good to have any amount of free-time. When times are particularly difficult she takes up odd jobs here and there. I am still struggling what job I will have Ares train in bc technically I should put him in the military but then he'd be in a military camp and I want my war sibs to live in their lil apartment together :(

Zeus is def the kind of person who bemoans the amount of child support he has to pay when he is a) filthy rich bc inheritance and b) could just keep it in his pants.

Athena is the one who loves olives, Ares is the one who hates them XD

hope this quenches some of the thrist hehe

also i still don't have a name for this AU it goes by #placeholder tag for now :,)

[sherewrytes]

𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟 ℙ𝕚𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕤, ℝ𝕪𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟 𝕊𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒 5

↳ Sukuna x f! black reader

Summary: After the death of his grandfather, Sukuna Ryomen is left to shoulder the weight of his family, caring for his younger brothers, Yuuji and Choso. As he withdraws into grief, his relationship with Y/N, his girlfriend of a year, begins to crumble. When Y/N discovers the truth about his grandfather’s passing during a heated argument, it leads to a painful breakup. Now, both are navigating life apart, but Sukuna’s heart aches for Y/N. Determined to win her back, he must confront his pain and find a way to break through the walls he’s built. Can he rekindle their love, or is it too late?

contents: heavy angst, modern au, 18+, smut, dark romance, drug use, talks of depression and similar topics. (a lil )

fic warnings. ooc, profanity, mental health issues, toxic relationships, cheating, explicit smut, serious drug use, mentions of depression + more to be updated as story progresses.

Please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

Taglist: @for-hearthand-home@clp-84@thelightknight21@favvkiki  @helightknight21 @dylsw @ria-s-writes @sleepymothafterhours 

if you wanna be added to the tag list comment

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Chapter 5: Where is the end?

Sukuna’s POV

I wanted to cry. It hit me in waves—this unbearable, gnawing ache that seemed to claw at every part of me, but I couldn’t. I felt numb, empty, like something inside me had shattered and I couldn’t put the pieces back together.

Who was I now? Who had I become?

I glance around the sterile hospital room, the white walls mocking me with their coldness, and everything suddenly feels even more suffocating. The beeping of the heart monitor in the corner, the soft hum of the lights, and the scent of antiseptic all feel like a reminder of how far I’ve fallen.

I swallow hard, trying to steady my breath, but it’s impossible. My chest is tight, constricted like I can’t breathe properly. I close my eyes for a moment, forcing my mind to focus, but the images come flooding back—Y/N, her face twisted in pain when I left, the way she told me to leave her apartment. The coldness in her voice shattered what little was left of my heart.

I had been pushing her away for so long. Pushing everything good in my life away.

She never deserved this.

I can feel the pressure in my chest grow like the weight of my mistakes is threatening to crush me all over again. I can’t even get a fucking grip on myself anymore. This wasn’t the life I wanted, and it sure as hell wasn’t the life she deserved.

My hands tremble as I sit up in the hospital bed. The sheets are tangled around me, and the effort to pull myself out of them feels like it might break me. But I need to move. I need to get out of here, out of this fucking room, out of this cage I’ve built for myself.

I get out of bed, unsteady on my feet, and the sensation of dizziness makes me stumble. The heart monitor starts to beep faster, and I ignore it. I don’t care about the alarms.

I just need to get to her.

I move to the door, but I pause for a moment, looking back at the sterile, lifeless room. The cold, sterile world I’ve surrounded myself with. It’s suffocating. The truth is, I don’t belong here. I don’t belong in this hospital bed. I belong with her.

But how the fuck do I fix this?

I don’t even know where to start.

I move slowly toward the door, but as I reach for the handle, my hand hesitates. My reflection in the window across the hall catches my eye.

Who is that person?

I don’t even recognize myself anymore. The guy who I used to be—the guy who could shrug everything off, who had his shit together—he’s gone. The reflection in the glass shows a man broken, desperate, someone who has lost his way. A man who has fucked up his relationship with the only person who ever made him feel alive.

What have I become?

I drag a hand through my hair, frustration building up again, but my body feels like it’s failing me. I want to scream, to let it all out, but instead, I just stand there, staring at the man in the glass.

I should’ve done better. I should’ve been better.

But now it feels like it’s too late. Maybe it’s too late for me to fix anything, too late for me to make it right.

But fuck, I can’t just give up. Not now. Not after everything.

I turn my gaze back to the door, my fists clenched at my sides. I can feel the weight of everything bearing down on me, but I can’t let it stop me. I don’t care if I’m not strong enough. I don’t care if I’m fucking broken.

I’ll find a way to fix it.

Even if I have to crawl my way back to her, I will.

I won’t give up on her.

The door bursts open and a few doctors and nurses rush in, all looking panicked. Their eyes dart around the room, and then they spot me, standing unsteady at the edge of the bed, trying to make my way to the door. One of the nurses immediately steps toward me, her voice gentle but firm.

"Mr. Ryomen, you need to get back to bed. It's not safe for you to be up right now."

I don't even put up a fight as they guide me back to the bed. I let them help me sit down, the weight of my body feeling heavy, like I’m sinking into the mattress. They start explaining something about observation for the next 24 hours. My mind is too clouded to pay attention to the details.

One of the doctors looks at me with a concerned expression. "We need to keep you under observation for now. You’ve been through quite a bit, and we must monitor your condition."

I nod, not really hearing them. My thoughts are still miles away. 

I need to see her... I need to fix things.

A moment of silence passes before I speak, my voice thick with frustration. "I can't afford this," I mutter, looking at the machines around me. The hospital bill, the treatments—it's all piling up in my mind. It feels overwhelming.

The nurse just smiles, as if she’s heard this before. "Don't worry about it. It's been taken care of."

I frown, confused. "Taken care of?"

"Yes," she says, nodding. "Satoru Gojo took care of it."

I blink, still in disbelief. Of course, Gojo would pay my bill. That guy never hesitated to throw money around like it was nothing. I let out a low, sarcastic chuckle.

"Gojo, huh? That bastard," I mutter under my breath, shaking my head. I can’t help but laugh again, the sound is bitter but relieving in its own way. Of course, he’d swoop in and fix this mess, like always. I don’t even know why I’m surprised anymore.

As the nurse steps away, giving me a moment to process, I lean back in the bed, letting out a deep sigh. My head is pounding, and my heart is still heavy with everything I’ve done. But as I lay there, I felt the sting of reality hit me again, a constant reminder of what I’ve lost. I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to fix me.

But Gojo’s money... it's a small, pointless distraction from the bigger problem.

The bigger problem of not knowing how to live with the mess I’ve made.

The door creaks open, and I feel it before I see them—their presence filling the room like an uninvited storm. Gojo strolls in first, his usual cocky smirk plastered across his face. Behind him, Geto follows, his steps measured and serious, while Toji hangs back a bit, his eyes scanning the room with that usual disinterest.

They’re here to check on me, but all I can do is focus on the sterile white walls of the room, anything but them. I’m not ready for this, not ready to face the people I’ve let down.

Why am I even hiding myself from them? 

I think, my gaze drifting to the floor. Maybe it’s because I don’t have any answers. Maybe it’s because I’m ashamed.

I don’t want them to see me like this—broken, and vulnerable, but that’s exactly what I am.

Gojo’s footsteps approach, and before I can even think to react, he’s there, his hands gripping my shoulders in that casual, almost annoying way of his. He shakes me slightly, the weight of his touch pulling me back into reality.

"Hey, come on," Gojo’s voice rings out, louder than I expected. "What the hell are you doing, man? Hiding from us?"

I glance up briefly, meeting his eyes—his blue eyes that never seem to falter. He’s not surprised, not at all. He’s always had a way of looking at me like he’s seen everything already, like nothing I do can shock him. But right now, I don’t want to be seen.

I try to pull away, but his grip tightens, and he forces me to face him.

"You’re not getting out of this, Sukuna," Gojo says, his tone now serious, the usual sarcasm gone. "We’ve been trying to keep you together, but you’ve been shutting us out. Why the hell do you think we’re here?"

I feel the anger start to rise in me—

he has no idea what I’ve done

but I bite it down. 

What’s the point of fighting anymore? I can barely even hold myself together.

Toji moves around the side of the bed, his gaze cold and unwavering, while Geto just stands by, his silence speaking louder than words ever could.

"You're a mess," Toji says flatly. "But you already know that."

I stare down at my hands, trying to keep my breathing steady.

"Don’t try to make excuses for yourself," Geto finally speaks up, his voice calm, but his eyes are sharp. "You’ve got to face what you did. All of it. And you can’t do that if you keep running away from it."

I don’t know how to respond. I’ve always been the one in control, the one who called the shots. But right now, I feel completely out of my depth.

"I fucked up, okay?" I mutter, my voice raw. "I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to fix me."

Gojo squeezes my shoulders harder, his grip firm but somehow reassuring. "You’re not alone in this," he says, his voice softer than I’ve heard in a long time. "But you’ve got to stop running from it. You’ve got to stop hiding."

I look up at him, at all of them. They’ve been with me through the worst of it—through my rebellions, my anger, my bullshit—but this? This is different. And I don’t know how to ask for help.

But maybe... maybe I don’t have to.

"Yeah, maybe you're right," I whisper. "I’ve just... I don’t know what to do anymore."

Toji huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, but there's a flicker of something softer in his eyes. "It’s simple, Sukuna. You start by fixing what you broke."

I nod, slowly. I know that’s the first step. But for the first time in a long time, I’m not sure if I can.

And that thought hurts more than I can explain.

I could feel the shame burning in my throat as I finally let the words slip out.

"She told me she hates me," I say, the words barely a whisper.

There. I said it. I got it out.

But its weight doesn’t lift; it only sinks deeper.

I can feel all their eyes on me, silent, waiting.

"And then what did I do?" I continue, forcing myself to look up, to meet their gazes even though I want to look anywhere but at them. "I fucked her. Even after she told me she was done, I couldn’t... I couldn’t let go."

Toji’s face shifts, his usual smirk gone, replaced by something I can’t read. Gojo just stares, his expression hardening. Geto... Geto’s eyes look almost sad.

"So you made it worse," Toji mutters, crossing his arms. "And now she’s gone."

I nod, swallowing hard. "She’s gone," I say, the finality of it hitting me like a punch to the gut. "For real this time. She told me to come and get my stuff, and when I left, I—" I break off, the words catching in my throat.

Gojo sighs, his hand running through his hair. "You let your pride get in the way," he says, his tone blunt. "You always do."

I know he’s right. I let my damn pride and anger destroy the one thing that meant something to me. I try to breathe, but the pain is clawing up my chest, filling every corner of my mind.

"She... she was right to hate me," I admit, my voice cracking. "I did this. I pushed her away. I kept shutting her out, ignoring her calls, and her texts, and now... she’s done. She’s done."

There’s a heavy silence. They’re all just looking at me, and I know they’re judging me, hating me, maybe even feeling sorry for me.

But it doesn’t matter. None of it matters. Because I deserve this.

I drop my head into my hands, the weight of everything crushing me.

"And I can’t even blame her," I whisper, my voice barely audible. "I did this to myself."

I took a few deep breaths, trying to keep the panic from rising again. The ache in my chest was relentless, pressing down like a weight that wouldn’t let up. I closed my eyes, telling myself to calm down. Come on, get it together, I thought. Another panic attack isn’t gonna help.

I glanced at Gojo and the others, watching their silent stares and attempts at empathy I didn’t feel like I deserved. Part of me wanted to tell them to get out—to leave me to whatever mess I’d made of myself. But I didn’t. I just sat there, caught in the trap of my own mind, barely holding it together.

“Maybe I should just sleep,” I mumbled, more to myself than to anyone else. “Just… get back to where things make sense, where it’s not… like this.”

I lay back on the bed, closing my eyes again, hoping sleep would just take me. Because in sleep, things didn’t hurt so damn much. I could see her again, hear her laugh, feel her hand in mine like it used to be. There, in dreams, she wouldn’t be gone. She wouldn’t hate me. There, I wasn’t this… mess of a person. I wasn’t the guy who had thrown everything away.

The others were still there, I knew that, but I didn’t care. Let them talk, let them do whatever. I just wanted out—out of this room, this body, this damn life that didn’t feel like mine without her in it.

I didn’t know how long I lay there, drifting in and out, feeling myself numb. Maybe I’d finally fall asleep and dream it all away.

Gojo’s POV

I looked over at Sukuna, finally out cold, his breathing shallow but steady. The relief was temporary; I knew he’d be right back to spiraling when he woke up. Turning to Toji, I shook my head, feeling that familiar sense of frustration bubbling up.

“What are we gonna do with him, seriously?” I said quietly, rubbing a hand over my face. “He’s a hot mess.”

Toji glanced at Sukuna, then back at me, his usual unbothered expression faltering just a bit. “Kid’s been through hell and back,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “But that doesn’t mean he gets to destroy himself, and everyone else along the way.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to him when he’s sober,” I said. “We’ve all had rough patches, but this…? He’s doing himself no favors.”

Geto leaned against the wall, arms folded. “He’s been drowning for a while. Maybe none of us noticed how deep he was in until it got this bad.”

Toji sighed, a hand running through his hair as he looked back at Sukuna. “Doesn’t help that he pushes people away the second they try to get close. Especially Y/N. Poor girl didn’t stand a chance with him.”

I clenched my jaw. Y/N. She’d put up with so much, tried so hard, and he’d just kept pushing her away. But if there was anyone who could make him realize what he was throwing away, it was her—only, we might be well past that point now.

"Maybe she was his last chance at something good, and he knows it,” I said, glancing at Sukuna, now oblivious in his restless sleep. “But he couldn’t let go of whatever’s eating him from the inside.”

Silence stretched between us, the kind that makes you feel every wrong damn thing. None of us knew how to fix him; all we could do was be here to try to hold the pieces together. But even that felt like a losing battle.

Geto’s voice was soft but steady, cutting through the silence like a knife. “He’s got survivor’s guilt,” he said, looking at us. “He was supposed to be with Jin that night. He’s been blaming himself for the past eighteen months.”

I frowned, sinking deeper into thought. Jin had been the one on a real path—a student at Pratt, always doing what needed to be done to keep things steady. Jin had plans, a future laid out. He’d had the kind of life Sukuna never thought he could touch.

“To him, Jin had it all figured out,” Geto continued, his voice tight. “Meanwhile, Sukuna’s always been... well, reckless, a total mess—parties, hookups, whatever he could do to forget himself. And now he thinks it should’ve been him instead.”

Toji shook his head slowly. “Survivor’s guilt doesn’t just go away, though. It’s got him in a chokehold, and he can’t see past it. He won’t let himself. All the drinking, the fights, pushing Y/N away—it’s like he’s set on wrecking himself because he thinks it’s all he deserves.”

“Eighteen months,” I echoed, swallowing down the weight of it. “He’s just been carrying that, all by himself?”

“Carrying it, dragging it, burying himself under it,” Geto said, voice low. “The fact that he even kept his grades up back then... it was like the one thing he had to prove he could do right. But now that’s gone too.”

Toji exhaled, leaning against the wall. “He never did let us in on any of that, did he? Couldn’t even tell Y/N. She’s been taking his shit, thinking he’s just distant or cold when the guy’s practically buried under guilt.”

I felt something tighten in my chest—anger, sadness, maybe both. Why didn’t he just tell us?

“So now what?” I asked, my voice rougher than I intended. “We’re here, trying to hold him together, but he’s got no intention of letting us.”

Geto gave me a sad smile, his eyes dark. “The only thing we can do now is try to help him realize that even if he can’t forgive himself, maybe—just maybe—there are people around who can.”

Sukuna’s face twitched, and he murmured, half lost in sleep, “Jin… I’m sorry.” His breathing slowed again, and he drifted back to sleep, his face tight with something even unconsciousness couldn’t soften.

Toji shook his head slowly, his expression pained. “Poor bastard’s been apologizing to a ghost,” he muttered.

Geto looked away, jaw clenched, like hearing Sukuna admit even that much was almost too much to bear. I felt a sting of something raw as I watched him, realizing just how deep the cracks went for Sukuna.

“He’s got that wall up so high, he doesn’t even realize he’s been trapped behind it himself,” Geto finally said, keeping his voice low. “And he’s been living there alone for so long, he thinks that’s the only way to survive.”

A bitter thought crossed my mind. "And in the process, he’s been tearing apart anyone who tried to climb over that wall and help him, including Y/N.”

Toji sighed. “If he keeps going like this, he’ll lose everyone. And the worst part is, it won’t shock him—he’ll think he deserves it.”

I felt a dark resolve settle over me. “Then we’re gonna have to show him that he doesn’t have to go through this alone anymore. He may not believe it, but he’s got people who care. And no matter how much he pushes, we’re not going anywhere.”

Geto nodded, a shadow of determination in his gaze. “Right. It’s time we remind him he doesn’t get to decide when we’re done with him.”

Toji cracked a small, dark grin. "Sukuna’s been good at one thing his whole life: building a wall so damn high even he can’t see over it. But I say we knock that shit down, piece by piece. And if he tries to put it back up, we knock it down again.”

Geto smirked faintly. "We’re persistent bastards—he should know that by now.” But as he spoke, his gaze softened. “He needs us now more than ever. I think a part of him is terrified of even letting us in, but…” He paused, glancing at Sukuna, who was still mumbling in his sleep, fists clenched even in rest.

I watched him for a moment. “It’s almost like he doesn’t believe he deserves anything good,” I said quietly. “Like no matter how hard he tries, he’ll always be chasing ghosts.”

Toji leaned back, crossing his arms. “Well, maybe it’s time someone else starts chasing him. He’s been running for too long.”

Just then, Sukuna stirred, his brow furrowing, another murmur escaping his lips—something half-formed, an apology or a plea, tangled up in sleep. It was painful to watch him like this, broken down, raw in ways he’d never let us see if he were awake. I felt something tighten in my chest, the weight of all he’d been carrying alone for so long.

“Whatever it takes, we’ll be here when he wakes up,” I said, determination settling over me. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Toji let out a deep breath, his usual cocky attitude softened as he glanced back at Sukuna’s sleeping form. “This kid’s been dragging the weight of his own guilt and grief for too damn long. Ever since Jin...well, it’s like he’s got it in his head that he was supposed to be the one gone that night.” He shook his head, almost as if trying to shake off the absurdity of it. “Sometimes, when I look at him, it’s like he’s already halfway given up on himself.”

Geto nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sukuna’s never been one to talk about what’s going on up here.” He tapped his temple. “But ever since Jin’s accident, he’s just been… self-destructive. Like he thinks he doesn’t deserve to be here, doesn’t deserve any of this,” he added, motioning to the hospital room, “and definitely doesn’t deserve Y/N.”

I sighed, slumping into one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs, watching Sukuna twitch and mumble in his sleep. He murmured Jin’s name again, the sound almost like a child calling out in the dark.

“Do you think he’s ever going to let go of this?” I asked, more to myself than anyone else.

Toji’s gaze darkened, and his eyes narrowed in determination. “Not on his own. And not if he keeps trying to deal with it by pushing away everyone who gives a damn about him. He’s gotta wake up to the fact that he doesn’t have to carry all of this alone.” He leaned forward, his fists resting on his knees, the lines on his face tense and serious. “We all go through hell sometimes. It’s part of the package. That doesn’t mean we have to go through it solo.”

Geto gave a short, bitter laugh. “Sukuna’s not exactly the ‘share your feelings’ type.” He paused, and his voice softened. “But I don’t think he knows any other way. Hell, maybe he doesn’t even want to. But if he doesn’t learn how to start opening up, he’s just going to keep spiraling.”

As I looked at Sukuna, the stubborn, self-destructive side of him flashed in my mind—a side we’d all watched worsen over the past year. We’d seen him drink, fight, and smoke his way through the nights, using everything he could to keep his demons at bay. But all it had done was sink him deeper.

“Letting go of Jin,” I murmured, “doesn’t mean forgetting him. That doesn’t mean he has to lose that connection. But carrying this much weight…” I trailed off, watching as Sukuna’s face contorted in his sleep, pain, and guilt written across his expression. “It’s just eating him alive.”

Toji huffed, standing up and pacing the room. “And who else would he listen to? Y/N tried, and look what it cost her. I doubt he’s going to listen to anyone easily. Not even us.”

Geto looked at me, his eyes heavy. “So what do we do, Gojo? Just sit back and watch him fall apart?” His tone was frustrated, bordering on hopeless, a rare look for him. But in this situation, who could blame him? None of us knew how to pull him out of this spiral, but standing by and doing nothing wasn’t an option, either.

“No,” I said finally, with a slow nod. “We don’t back off, even if he tries to push us away again. I’m serious. We stay here, we check on him, and we make sure he knows—every single day—that he’s not alone. That he’s still got people in his corner, whether he likes it or not.”

Toji gave a small nod, a hint of a grin tugging at his lips. “Guess we’re just stubborn bastards, then. He’s not going to shake us that easy.”

Sukuna stirred again, his face etched in that same tortured expression, murmuring once more. His words were slurred and barely coherent, but we could all make out the quiet, hoarse words, “…Jin… I’m sorry…”

Geto took a deep breath, running a hand over his face, his voice low. “It’s hard to watch him like this. But if he’s going to make it, if he’s ever going to find his way out… he’s going to need us.”

I nodded, a newfound resolve settling over me. “We’re not just going to be his friends when things are easy,” I said firmly. “We’re going to be here through the ugly, the painful, the worst of it.”

And there, in that hospital room filled with the steady hum of machines and dim, sterile lighting, I felt the weight of our friendship shift, solidify. We were here for the long haul, whether Sukuna could see it yet or not.

[1117feverlessdreams]

Picture Perfect

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📷💖TAGS: Short but San is veryyy sweet 🌸Lots of fluffy fluff 🎀, mention of oral and masturbation, a lil bunny kink action 🐰 slight smut, and San as a dig bick nerd 🤓!

📷💖PAIRING: Nerd!San x Neutral!Reader, HOT!San x Photographer!Reader

📷💖WORD COUNT: 5.2k

📷💖A/N: I hope to push out more content soon. College has been a major setback for me but there are a lot of drafts in the making!

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As you pounce around your apartment, you manage to grab the things you need for your class's reunion party tonight.

Your best friend was the host and had requested for you to take pictures as you used to do in your school days. You were so good that the school had asked you to take everyone’s picture for the graduating year.

After that, in your early adult life, your career of picture taking didn’t escalate to where you thought it be after all these years.

It was difficult being your own boss as vague as that sounds. Your clients can be unreasonable at times, and your schedule is always tight.

Luckily for tonight, you’ve managed to get your shoots done early today in perfect alignment with the later occasion.

Upon arriving, it was convenient for you to obtain a reserved spot in your best friend's 12-car garage. In other words, you would’ve had a hell of a walk carrying bulky camera equipment across a road of a walkway to a five-story mansion.

You felt proud that your friend had managed to acquire such an easy-going and luxurious lifestyle. Even if you were still working toward that point yourself, you still felt a sense of accomplishment as their dear friend.

With your parking spot you could enter the house from an alternate entrance, the quiet concrete space sounded still compared to what was going on inside.

It’s been a while since you've seen everyone. You were nervous spite of the fact, but you were always on good terms with your peers.

You take a deep breath and slung your tripod over your back, and adjust the camera pack on your shoulders. You turn the door knob and enter what was the back door to one of the kitchens.

It wasn’t long until you had recognized a few people who had already recognized you.

To your disposition, you were adruptly stopped into a general conversation. It was about 7 minutes long in a discussion of the progressions you’ve made in life with your former classmates.

You were saved from diving into a new topic of discussion when your best friend had walked in.

…

“Hey you! Why didn’t you tell me you were here?!”

A breath of relief releases from your lungs as she stood there in a bedazzling dress, looking like the brightest super star in the whole oversized house.

Well I would have but as you can see, I got caught up, you communicate with kind eyes.

“I guess it slipped my mind. I’m just excited to see everyone again tonight.”

As your best friend, she could obviously read your nervousness and could tell that the initial conversation made you feel overwhelmed.

Especially with heavy pounds of camera equipment crushing into your entire backside.

“Well hurry and come further inside so I can help you set everything up! That way you can take those pictures and mingle for a bit.”

You nod and follow her out to the kitchen to the central area of the party to set everything up in shape. Her immediate action was to take the tripod off your back while you set up everything from the duffle bagged camera pack on your shoulder.

“You’re too nice. You need to let people know what’s convienent in your time, like those arrogant clients you have.”

“Well you know I’m a people pleaser. My whole job centralizes around people.”

“I understand that. She says, snapping the locks of the tripods legs in place. “But never forget that you are a person too.”

No matter what anyone said that was envious of your friend's success, she always remained to be true to the person she was to you and better.

You finish by plugging in the ring light to illuminate your background. As tonight is a reunion, you came up with the bright idea of recreating Polaroid cards that everyone loved you for in your school years.

It was a regular white background, but your decorative expertise made the printed Polaroid photos look anything but regular.

What made you adore your friend even more was that most of your former classmates brought in those photos, in perfect condition, and to keep them after all these years made you gleam at your best friend from across the room.

After many reminiscent discussions, catching up, and strings of sticky glued mess from decorating, you were ready to call it wraps for the night to “mingle”- as your friend suggested.

Truthfully, you didn’t know how to mingle without photography being involved. As if someone had read your mind to prevent you from becoming a disaster of yourself, you heard your name before you pulled the ring lights plug.

“Hey! It’s great that you still do this kind of thing, I always knew this was meant for you.”

You watch as he walks into the light, glowing apart from the dim party lights.

Choi San, the school’s nerdy sweet boy that made your heart throb. He wasn’t any other girl's trope, but that only meant better for you to have him for yourself. But you were always hesitant to let him know how you felt. Even now.

“Choi San?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t recognize me…”

You flicker your eyes up and down as you take in his black and white suit and tie. He always overdressed for any occasion, but that was one of many things you loved most about him. Not to mention, the boldness of his comb-over hot pink hair.

“No- it just- you grew up so well.”

"As did you.”

He smirks at you so hard to the point that a dimple comes into view in a small shadow due to the works of lighting.

“Yeah, I guess photography was always my way of capturing life with my eyes. It’s great that I can look at everyone when I want and relive those memories.”

Besides the fact that it takes you back to way back when, it makes you weak to the knees from the way he looks so good now, his intense gaze makes you overthink every word you said.

“Oh wait- that sounds really odd right?”

His smile grows larger, and another dimple is engraved in his slim cheekbones underneath the light. “I like odd. It’s boring when things are casual, and even.”

He walks past you and goes behind the camera to analyze your setup. He nods his head in approval with his hands in his pockets, then slides another one out to tap on the stool. “Mind if I do?”

“No. Not at all.”

“Thanks.”

You make your way back behind the camera to take his picture, secretly trapped by his beauty in your viewfinder.

His smile never came back down in any subtle way, which made you eager to just kiss him right there.

“Your teeth are nice but, can we recreate your old picture and just use your lips? Maybe… poke out a dimple?”

“Uh yeah… sure thing." He closes his mouth, smirking directly at you at first before you had to redirect his eyesight to the camera lens. You managed to capture his essence in a still frame with a final click. “My teeth are nice hm?”

“Um yeah… they’re nice”, you mumble, completely nerve-wracked. “It’s a bit of a shame though, but maybe we can use it for another photo." You awkwardly walk sideways to print out the photo as you transfer it from your friend's laptop. “Here’s your pic.”

He looks at the pic in his strong hands, standing back up again with a smile wide as he looks back up at you, slipping the smaller image into his front blazer pocket.

“Sounds like a plan.” If it wasn’t so quick you would’ve caught his glance at your lips, but yet you couldn’t even register that fact he’s talking to you now. “So, you still decorate Polaroids?”

“No, not really! It’s just for the occasion. It’s kind of out of style now so…”

“Oh no it’s totally in now! But no matter who else does it, I always said Y/n started it, and they do it best!”

“Awe thanks. You’re so kind, as always.”

Another smirk of his sly on by, a one-sided one that could potentially do more damage than the normal one. He wands his finger in the air, referring to the space around you. “See you around?”

“Yeah”, you nod. “I’ll be ‘mingling’ in just a few minutes.”

San breathes out a light chuckle, looking you up and down without hiding it before turning to walk away.

…

It didn’t take you long to pack things up as it does to set things up, but from your previous interaction, it made you more nervous to get out into the crowd.

With your luck, as you venture off to find your best friend, you walk into a drinking game in one of her family rooms, decorated with gold strobe lights illuminating the vintage furniture. She started it, of course, and you see San again, standing tall and relaxed on a back wall while everyone else is seated in a circle.

You approach the circle slowly, and yet your best friend manages to sense your presence. She turns around and opens her arms to bring you in to join the game.

Spin the bottle, it was.

Even as grown adults, here you are, still playing childish games.

San then decided to join as well. He taps on someone else’s shoulder to sit right across from you.

“This is for all the single people, your friend whispers, “…this is your chance to finally just go for it!”

You begin to scold her in response, but it startles you when everyone begins to drum roll on the ground for suspense. The bottle gets spun and starts turning in rapid rotations.

San finds comfort in making eye contact with you. You were the only ones not drumming on the ground, or cheering in excitement.

As some sort of messed up fate would decide, the bottle lands between you…and San.

“Well look at that”, a random classmate says, “…the two smart kids, Y/n and San!”

“If you don’t kiss, you have to feed each other a shot!”, a classmate shouts.

Without any thought, you immediately grab onto a shot glass from the middle table and pour it up for the both of you, all the way to the very top.

San follows your lead as you hand him a filled shot glass, rising on your knees.

All you had to do was pour the drink into each other's mouths. A simple task, but the fact that it was San made you slow to understand.

“I got it.” San grabs hold of your wrist with his gentle touch using his free hand. He places the rim of the shot on his rose-pink bottom lip, then nods at you to do the same.

You begin to follow him then, and when he gives you the signal, you tip the drinks upward into each other's mouth as you both tilt your head backward.

The strong scent of liquor infiltrated your nostrils through the wrong pipe, causing you to start having a coughing fit, and accidentally pulling San down on top of you.

“Sorry!”, you both say unanimously.

He rises from atop of you to pull you back up, but you are already quick enough on your own to scoot back into your spot.

“Well!”, your best friend suits from beside you, “the tension in here is suffocating!” She looks at you, reading over the bloodshot redness on your face. “Say y/n, are you okay with taking a group photo for everyone?”

“Y-yeah”, you stutter, “of course.”

“Great!”, she claps. “We should all take one.” She points to the area behind her while looking at everyone on the floor, “On the couch everybody!”

Everyone uncrosses their legs with moans and groans from the stiffness, one of the naturalist things that comes with your age.

“Oh! I need some time to set up still, it’s sort of dark in here.”, you explain while standing up.

“I can help you.”

You look to follow the voice of San, seated on the edge of the couch with drunk girls tossing themselves all over him.

“You don’t have to, you can just- stay right there.”

“It’s okay love… I insist.”

“AWEEEEE!”, the girls whine, forever being allured by San’s sweet heart and his looks.

Conversation between your classmates had naturally begun to pick up again. The task of setting everything up was two times quicker, but with the underlying tension, it felt longer.

As he isn’t too familiar with cameras, Choi San followed your lead once again.

Your hands occasionally touched as small murmured apologies would simultaneously be spoken between the two of you.

You were so immersed that you didn’t even notice your friend grinning as she watched. It was like watching you two as kids all over again.

When you had finally set everything up, you both rose from the floor at the same time, thumping each other's heads.

“Ouch!”, you exclaimed.

“Sorry.”, you both say.

“Hey, Sannie! Come sit with us for the picture!”, the girls scream, messily waving him over as they struggle to make room for another.

You step back to hide behind the camera, snapping threads of photos when everyone is ready to select the best ones for later.

“Y/n!”, your friend yells. “…you’ve gotta get in at least one of these!”

“Oh, no.”, you shake your head. “I don’t think there’s any spots left for me on the couch left anyway”

“You can have my spot.”, San calls you to again.

“It’s okay. I’ll stand behind the couch… it’s not that big of a deal.”

“AWEEEEEE!”, the girls whine again.

“I will too then.”

“AWWWWWWEEEEE!”, they whine obviously for another time.

“Okay, that’s enough everyone! Your friend sits in an annoyed tone. “Are you ready Y/n?”

“Yeah, one sec. You run behind the camera and run being the couch holding up a 3 with your fingers. “Alright, Reunion on 3!”, your friend announces.

“1, 2, 3. REUNION!”

You feel an arm snake around your shoulder, and you naturally grabbed on to it for the picture. One thing you hate as a photographer was noticing yourself in awkward tension in photos. So you’ve trained yourself not to be.

After the picture though, you felt like melting into the floor so you didn’t have to move forth with embarrassing yourself with Choi San tonight, you were consciously trying your best to bring up a plausible excuse.

“Was that okay? I apologize.”

“No you’re so fine. I mean- no- trust me, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”, he questions, looking over the mixed expression on your features. “It kind of happened naturally, but if it made you feel weird then-”

“I grabbed onto your arm anyhow, so if you wanna be real here, we both did it without checking on the other.”, you state with shrugged arms. “You see, we’re even.”

He closes the space and walks up to you and grabs your hand. “I like odd. It’s boring when things are casual, and even.”

“If you’re okay with it, I like to take you to someplace else. It’s walking distance, so don’t be wary.”

“Sure.” You look around to see everyone falling on their faces. “I could use some fresh air.”

..

You walk arm-in-arm across the city’s bridge with pretty city lights, and yet you're still confused about which view you like best with a beautiful man at your side.

He abruptly stops in his footsteps to unlink your arms, pulling his smartphone out of his pocket.

“If it’s okay”, he looks down, flipping his phone in his hand with nervousness, …"I want to take a picture of you at this moment. I feel like- as much as you take pictures-you hardly capture the beautiful moments with just yourself.”

You blink at him rapidly in astonishment, luckily for you, the occasional strong wind was enough reason to blame if you cried.

“That’s okay, thank you for that.”

He nods with a smile, encouraging you to pose against the railing in front of the waters and sky-high bright light buildings.

“You make the camera look good!”, he shouts, eyes being covered by the phone but his dimples peak with his toothy smile.

After a few minutes, you push off the railing, and San stands up to show you the results. It was fair for a beginner you thought, but the fact that it was San who took it made your heart pick up in pace. You looked at peace with yourself.

You take San’s place after reviewing your pictures and give him pro tips. During his photo shoot, you offered him poses which he perfected on his first try. Simply because he was so perfect.

At the end, he struts toward you, even when the camera isn’t on him he looks like a model.

“The camera makes me look good.”, he says reviewing your photos.

“You don’t need a camera for that silly, you’re right in front of me!”

“I mean…”, your cheeks bloom again with red as you smack yourself in the head.

He grins wide again, coming to stand by your side to watch over the city. “Even with this amazing view, you shined brighter than all of it.”

“Wow-um, Thank you, you’re so kind to me San.”

“Don’t mention it.”

A few cars passed, but in between that was peaceful silence as you and San continued to watch the bright lights, buildings, and stars.

“You ready to go back sweetheart? It’s getting late, and I don’t want to keep you up if you have clients to attend to in the morning.”

It broke you a little bit to hear that even San knew you were a workaholic.

“Actually, I’m free all of tomorrow as well. I didn't know how intense the party scene would be, and I didn’t want to take any chances.”

“You didn’t drink all too much, did you?” His tone is guardian-like, an ounce of concern pours within every word.

“Not really. How about you?”

“Maybe one or two, but I really finished neither.”

“So… we’re both good to drive home then.”

For some reason the peaceful silence grows into awkwardness and shame.

“You live nearby?”, San whispers.

“Nope, it’s a couple of hours for me. I’m thinking about crashing at a ‘tel tonight. I don’t want to get lost trying to find her bathroom in the middle of the night.”, you point to the way of the party, referring to your best friend.

A hearty chuckle leaves his mouth as it bounces with his broad shoulders. “That’s really far.”, he acknowledges, …”and I completely understand that but…I have a spare bedroom if you’re up for it. It’s reserved for family and friends only- nothing weird.”

There were a lot more pros than cons you thought, but high school you would’ve thought otherwise. But your adults now, where’s the harm in going over a friend's house?

“I’ll take you up on that, I could save the money.”

“Sounds great.”, he says, holding out his arms for you to grab onto with your own, “I can save you gas too, and drive you back to get your car in the morning.”

“You would do that for me?”

“I would.”

…

Even if he changed on the outside the inside of his apartment showcased how much of a dweeb he still was and you loved it.

He walked you into the room you’d be sleeping in which was a slight contrast of his dweebiness but it still shows his personality nonetheless.

For pajamas, he handed you a t-shirt with the cutest Pokémon character on it and some black sweats. When you came out of the room from changing, you followed the alluring smoke of delicious aroma from the kitchen to find him sautéing a stir fry.

He changed from his formal suit to the casual wear of his black tee shirt and black sweats. But to you, it was anything but casual, because how can such a man look so sexy in something so basic as plain black clothing?

“It smells amazing in here, I’m actually starving.”

“There’s plenty enough for you here sweetheart. What kind of person would I be not to feed my guest?”

“I appreciate it. You’re the sweetest.”

“Of course.”, he moves away from the stove to hand you your plate as you both move into his living room to watch the movie you selected. “We will reserve dessert for later.”

It had been twenty-something minutes since the movie began and you couldn’t recap on what happened if San asked you to.

Dessert was severed right after dinner as promised, but was it wrong for you to want something else more?

“I’ll guess I’ll head to bed now”, you muttered, “thank you for everything, from taking me home and cooking a delicious meal.”

“Of course. He gets up from the couch as you do, “I’ll head to bed now too.”

“Good night, San.”, you wave from across the hall.

“Good night, Y/n.”, he doesn’t shut his door until after you do, which was a little intense because you kept gawking at him.

You can admit that everything was perfect. The bed was at the perfect standard between hard and soft, the sheets were clean, and the room was tidy and smelled nice. But later that night you couldn’t sleep, so you go to check on San to see if he was still awake.

You don’t think to knock on his door in case you might wake him up from good sleep.

However, what you didn’t expect was him sitting up in his bed with a night light and glasses reading manga.

When you come in he’s flustered and throwing the book somewhere across the room while he tosses his glasses on his nightstand.

“Sorry! I thought you were asleep!”

You rush to close the door and San struggles to reach you as his ankles get tangled from the sheets covering his bed.

“Wait, it’s okay!” You open the door slightly with only one eye in appearance, idolizing San’s unbelievable frame. “Is everything all right? Did you need anything?”, he says in a rushed tone.

“I just-honestly, my nerves are bad and it’s hard for me to settle in at other people’s houses.”

“Oh! I’m sorry.”, he grabs a blanket from his bed to reveal another one, moving to stand in front of the edge, and closer to you. “You can take the bed in here if that’s better for you. I’ll make a pallet on the floor.”

“No that’s okay!” You wave him off between the cracks. “Maybe I’m just paranoid.”

“I promise, it’s alright.” He walks much closer to you now, taking his grip on the door and opening it wide to your exposure. “Please…I insist.”

You walk into the room, looking between the hard wooden floor and his fluffy bed which was also dressed in black. “How about we just share the bed San, that way no one has to be uncomfortable?”

You’re both adults… you can handle it, right?

“Um sure, yeah. He tries the cover back down onto the mattress as you close the door behind you. “If you’re comfortable.”

“I am, are you?”

“Yes.”, he confirms, then settling in as he sits up, waiting on you to join in.

“Good.”

“Good.”

You make your way in and San turns off his nightlight to finally get some rest, the both of you turning in the opposite of ways.

Unexpectedly though, you both turn opposite again at the same time, and your lips become magnetic in an inevitable connection.

You both pull away on your last breaths, gazing into the other's eyes, and pulling your bodies closer.

“Can I tell you something?”, you both whisper at the same time.

“You first.”, you both say again.

San takes the initiative to start before you this time, hovering his hand above your cheek in which you take hold of as soon as the opportunity presents itself. “I’ve been waiting to do that since high school.”

“Me too”, you confess. “I think…no- I know I like you.”

His eyes brighten and he begins caressing your soft flesh. “Same here.” In seconds you begin kissing again, never ending until before you take each other's breaths away.

It actually began to escalate into something more afterward. You both felt like you had to continue touching the other in one way or more.

San began to pull the plug as he stopped himself from pulling your shirt over your head. “I uh… we don’t have to-”

You immediately silence him with a kiss, pulling the remainder of your shirt that was left on your body yourself. “I want to with you, please.”

“Why would i ever say no to you?” San moves over on top of you, trying to get to know your body more from its every angle. “Where do you want me?”, he asks, mainly because he’s unsure where to start himself.

“Anywhere and everywhere, please?” Your reach up to touch a long strand of pink behind his hair and smooth your fingers along his jawline.

“Anything for you my sweet.”

He then makes the move to firstly bend down and kiss you on the head, making his way down directly to where your pleasure erects.

“Wait!”, you whisper above what was considered normal, startling San you come to a complete halt. “Glasses.”

He scoffs and climbs his way back up to your face. “Don’t tell me you have a kink for glasses.”

“Only when you put them on”, you sensually remark. “It makes you look even more delectable.”

“Is that so?”, he devilishly grins, “Hand them over here then.”

He slides on glasses as he looks deep into your eyes. Embodying the nature of a DILF like no other, perhaps that’s another kink you only have with him.

San moves downward again to your sex, pursuing straight into action. With the skills of his lips and tongue, her was able to suck, twirl, and eat every bit right out of you until his glasses are smeared with your cum, and your legs are quivering in instability.

“So it’s true”, you mumble, sucking back in every breath you give out. “…nerdy boys do give the best head. I wonder if the big dick part is true or not.”, you grin, letting your sex drive take wheel off every previous challenge.

San lets up and pulls onto the string that flatters his waist, pulling the down as the fabric loosens and stretches. “I’ll let you be the judge of that.”

His shirt selfishly covers him with he reveals himself to you, sticking up hard underneath black cotton. But he reads your desperate expression and relieves your mind, taking his shirt off to sire him all to you.

“Holy fuck.”

San leans down to your ear and lightly kisses its outer shell, while the tip of his meaty cock taps on your abdomen.

“What do you think my love? Are the rumors true?”

He pulls apart from you and you follow the front of his face, shaking your head in disbelief. “I think they underestimated you.”

“Good answer, you’re not as dumb of a bunny as I’d thought you’d be.”

Your breath hitches from the ticklish feeling your body shivers from in hindsight. “B-b-bunny?”

“That’s right baby, that’s what I’ll call you, my little cock hopper.” San flips you over to leave you the role of being top, and yet he takes the lead by plunging his dick right into your sweet spot.

“Oh my- fuck!” Your eyes flutter as your mouth gapes open wide, gripping on his sheets and printing your claws.

He wastes no time to push in and out of you. Your beauty has driven him to insanity. But your noises and cuteness brought him over the very edge.

“Bunny do you know? unghhhh- how many times I- gosh- got a hard on in class and had to go to the bathroom- shit- because of you?”

“No, I’m sorry”, you whine. “Did you ever-fuck- do it? Rub it off?”

He growls at your inquiry, thrusting in hard and much deeper than before, forcing you to jerk forward. “Did I?”, he laughs darkly, “Why do you think I was nowhere to be found every lunch period? You think I was eating on the floor-arghhh-somewhere?”

“I would’ve assumed so but..if you needed my help Sannie, then you could’ve just asked y’know?”

“You would’ve did that for me Bunny?”, he whimpers, reaching up to caress your unattended skin.

“I would’ve Sannie. That cafeteria food was nothing to miss out on anyhow.”

The both of you laugh from the recall of freezer burnt fries and overcooked pizza.

“Fuck, bunny. I wished I would’ve talk to you sooner.”

“We can make up for lost time, Sannie.”

“Have you ever thought about us being together? He starts to thrust slower, eager to hear your thoughts. Like… in a relationship?”

“I always have too”, you conquer. Even now.”

He almost comes to full-stop, gazing up at you with furrowed brows and lost eyes. “Will you be mine then Y/n, please?”

For the first time tonight, you show your teeth with a wide smile. “With pleasure.”

The two of you meet halfway in a warm kiss. San starts to pick up his pace again, faster and harder, plunging into your hole as he holds onto your neck so you can never let go.

Your releases and his collide together like a shockwave, leaving you both to just collapse on one another and breathless.

“You’re mine now, no take back-sees, he teases, kissing your red-hot flustered cheek.

“I’ve waited this long Sannie”, you say lifting your upper body to smooth wet hair from his forehead to uncover the handsomeness that is his precious face. “As if I would ever.”

…

In his bed you lie peaceful and calm, deblocking the things you wish you would’ve done with the beautiful things you have.

It made you come up with the idea as you tap on San’s muscle-tight arm to be released from your waist, to which he whined and babbled about.

You bend down to retrieve your clothes that was left discarded at his bedside to fish into your pockets.

You pulled out the pink tube and applied it to your lips, then went into San’s front blazer pocket to find his Polaroid.

San has watched you carefully from the lipstick to the point where you kissed his picture. One on the cheek, the other, on his neck.

“Is that a decoration for my Polaroid?”

“One of them, I’m not done yet”, you giggle.

You began to write, ‘SO HOT’ and ‘call me!’ with your new phone number attached. Around the border, you added pink hearts to compliment his hair and complete the image.

“There, now it’s done.” He sits up as you tilt the picture in his direction. “What do you think?”

He grabs onto the square laminated photo, evaluating every design. “Nobody does it like you baby. It’s picture perfect.”

…

The night continued on with you giggling with San as you shared your embarrassing crush stories with each other, contemplating why the hell you both didn’t say anything sooner.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚*

A/N: This was so fun to create! I hope to post more stories soon! 💞

Much love,

xoxo

[fbfh]

curiosity is a wonderful thing - ch 8

wc: 3.1k

genre: slowburn, friends to lovers, fluff

pairing: audrey x ben, mal x ben????, eventual ben x daughter of alice!reader

warnings: audrey being a lil bitch again, mind control/hypnosis magic, implanted thoughts, minor emotional manipulation from mal

summary: disappointed again by Audrey's motivations, Ben prepares for a huge tourney match. But something - or someone - becomes very distracting all of a sudden.

song recs: the king - sarah kinsley, mind control - topsecret, do it for her - steven universe soundtrack

a/n: so we took in a stray cat (orange ofc) and he literally did this to me the other day???? peak orange cat behavior tbh. not my pic if that wasn't obvious

TAGS @yesv01 @magcon7280 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sunshineangel-reads @dustyinkpages @inejsknifes @tulipmagnoliaisme @ev3ningrain

“So, where’s bunny?” Audrey asks Ben as they head to the tourney field. She says his nickname for you with a note of venom. Even though it rarely happens, whenever someone else refers to you as bunny it always hits Ben’s ear wrong. 

“She’s probably just running late,” Ben says, “nothing out of the ordinary.” 

He says it sweetly. You three were supposed to meet up before the match today, but Ben figures you probably took a wrong turn, or got tied up in a project. Ben covers for you like that a lot. He doesn't mind at all, and since he can't go with you to Wonderland, he feels like this is the next best thing. Or the least he can do, he supposes.

“Well great, that's…” Audrey starts, trailing off as she gets distracted by a group of girls. More specifically, by how amazing their hair is. She tries to pay attention to what Ben is going on about this time, but their hair… it’s too distracting. It looks photoshopped. It looks like the hair they use in salon ads and shampoo commercials. She glares at them, her gaze venomous until she realizes her eyebrows are all scrunched up. She snaps out of it, smoothing out her face. First not just one person with better hair than her, but multiple girls with hair so much better than hers that she’s going to get wrinkles over it? What’s next, mixing patterns? Unblended eyeshadow? Orthopedic shoes?

“Do you think they actually paid for those?” She spits conspiratorially.

“D- uh, they- they might have…” Ben sputters at the sudden change of topic, following her gaze and trying to figure out what exactly has got Audrey in such a bad mood suddenly. 

“She did it to Jane’s hair too,” Audrey continues in that tone she only gets when spreading gossip. “And Fairy Godmother’s not happy about it.”

Oh. She’s talking about their hair. 

The realization dawns on Ben, and he takes a closer look at the group of girls. The girl on the left’s new color and style remind him a lot of yours. It looks good. Ben glances back at Audrey, realizing she’s this upset over someone else’s hair.

“I mean… what’s the harm?” Ben starts gently. From what you’ve told him about Mal and Evie, Mal is probably just trying to make friends with the makeup and fashion tips she’s picked up from Evie - and as far as Ben’s concerned, that’s something that should be encouraged. Before he can finish his thought, Audrey interjects, as she so often does when the conversation isn’t about her.

“It’s gateway magic!” She exclaims incredulously, as if this should be obvious to him. 

Gateway magic? That’s… not a thing… Ben thinks, wondering for a fraction of a second if Audrey might be joking. The only reason that magic is retired in the first place is because of the technology boom that came from Auradon’s alliance with Atlantis. All the new technology can do pretty much anything magic can do in people’s day to day lives. 

Aside from that, it’s also much easier to regulate and add in safety precautions. Most people have become more interested in exploring and expanding new technologies than focusing on magic and its traditions. Ben has a feeling that in the coming years, magic will eventually begin to be re-incorporated into society, but for now, it’s somewhat obsolete. Technology is easier to learn, gets more consistent results, and you don’t need to dig through ancient texts for information - one quick Doogle search and you’re good to go. 

“I mean, sure, it starts with the hair.” Audrey continues, and Ben can sense a tangent coming. “Next thing you know it’s the lips, then the legs, then the clothes, and then everybody looks so good, and…”

As he listens, Ben starts to see her point. If using magic to alter the way you look becomes common, it could have dire consequences. Adolescence is a fragile time, and if cosmetic alterations start running rampant at Auradon Prep, who knows how detrimental that could be to the student body’s self image and self esteem? The last thing Ben wants is to contribute to misogynistic, unrealistic beauty standards, give young girls even more unattainable ideologies to compare themselves to. 

He’s sure Mal is well intentioned with all this makeover stuff, and he doesn’t want to punish her for efforts to make friends - solve one problem by causing another. If he can just talk to her, have a heart to heart and explain why he’s concerned, he’s sure she’ll understand. That way they can collaborate, come up with a solution for how Mal can make friends without doing anything that could inadvertently create a negative aftermath. 

“...Then where will I be?” 

Audrey’s voice breaks Ben’s momentary, spiraling train of thought. He looks at her as she pouts, fussing with her own hair. She pulls out a compact mirror and begins inspecting her face. The realization that Audrey is only worried about herself yet again sends a flash of disappointment through him. Maybe if things were different he could talk to her about it, maybe he could get her to understand. But he still has a tourney game to get ready for, a meeting with his parents after that, and a new potential crisis to put out. 

“Listen, Audrey-”

Either she doesn’t hear him, or she doesn’t want to, and cuts him off again - something Ben starts to realize he’s growing very used to. She snaps her compact shut and looks at him vaguely, digging around her bag for her plumping lip gloss. She makes a mental note to get more, the extreme plumping kind if she wants to get ahead of all this magic beauty bullshit on the horizon.

“I will see you after my dress fitting for coronation, ‘kay?”

“O-Okay…” Ben replies, but Audrey is already bounding away.

“Bye bennyboo.” She calls out behind her, leaving Ben alone in the hall. He feels himself cringe a little at her repeated use of the nicknam, but reprimands himself. It’s well intentioned - well enough at least - so he shouldn’t be judgemental. 

Behind him in the empty hall, Mal stands, staring at the back of Ben’s head intently. She steadies herself with a breath. She’s been practicing on the birds outside her window - she even practiced on Carlos a few times - she’s been pouring over her mom’s spellbook nonstop since yesterday, she’s ready. She has to be. She takes a breath and walks forward, clearing her throat. 

“Hey bennyboo!” She says, sarcastic and saccharine. 

Ben turns around, startled by the sound of Mal’s voice, and bites back a sigh. He really wishes people would just call him Ben. Before he can greet her, Mal takes a few steps closer, locking eyes with him, and holds up a baggie of cookies that look very… homemade. 

“Do you want one?”

He looks at the cookies briefly, then smiles at Mal. It seems a little strange that she would take up something like baking when she refuses to even take an art class, but Ben is too distracted by the fact that she’s finally putting a good foot forward. She’s doing something kind, making a gesture, she’s trying.

“Oh,” he chuckles, smiling and trying to find a polite way to decline. He never eats right before a tourney match, especially dessert. 

“I uh,” he starts, fumbling for words that always come so easily. “I’ve got a big game - I don’t eat before a big game, but thank you so much!” He adds quickly, her eyes locked onto his. Have they always been that green? 

“T-thank you. Next time, next time definitely.” He concludes. He should go. He needs to go warm up or he’s going to be late. Why is he still standing there?

“No, yeah.” Mal says, pulling his thoughts back to her. If her eyes had always been so intense, such a vibrant, glowing green, Ben is sure he would have noticed before. “I completely understand.”

Mal smiles sadly. 

“Be wary of treats offered by villains…” She laughs sadly, eyes still locked on his, drawing him in. “I’m sure every kid in Auradon knows that.” 

Panic and guilt flash through him. 

“No, no, no-” He fumbles, trying to explain, but finding the words feels like trying to run through quicksand. He can feel his brain slowing down, struggling to think, growing more and more quiet. 

“No, that’s not it,” he sputters, desperately trying to correct her impression of him, that he doesn’t trust her, doesn’t like her. “I- I really do-” 

He gestures weakly toward the tourney field, eyes still locked on Mal’s, stuck in her entrancing gaze. Everything around him seems to glow with a tinge of that green, that intoxicating emerald color of her eyes. He tries to say something, but there are no words in his head to draw on. It’s like someone cut the power supply to his mind, leaving him reeling in the dark, stuck in place as Mal stares him down, inching closer to him. He can’t think, can’t blink, can’t move. All he can do is watch the shades of green emanating from Mal’s eyes, casting everything around him in emerald and lime and harlequin. He wishes he could say something, then slipping into the back of his mind like a snake, words begin to form. 

Everything you say and do makes everyone believe you’re wildly in love with me. Even yourself. 

Everything you say and do makes everyone believe you’re wildly in love with me. Even yourself.  

“No, I get it.” Mal says out loud, sounding just like the strange orders permeating Ben’s mind. “You’re cautious, that’s smart.” 

Everything you say and do makes everyone believe you’re wildly in love with me. Even yourself.

“Oh well,” Mal sighs, “more for me I guess…”

Everything you say and do makes everyone believe you’re wildly in love with me. Even yourself. 

She holds up her sugary concoction between them. 

Everything you say and do makes everyone believe you’re wildly in love with me. Even yourself. 

Ben steps forward.

Everything you say and do makes everyone believe you’re wildly in love with me. Even yourself. 

He reaches out his hand, compelled by her, then hesitates.

Everything you say and do makes everyone believe you’re wildly in love with me. Even yourself. 

“Eat the cookie, Ben.” Mal says, her melodic voice sounding just the same out loud as it does echoing around his head. 

Everything you say and do makes everyone believe you’re wildly in love with me. Even yourself. 

“Eat it!” She snaps. Ben reaches out automatically, taking a bite. The glow in Mal’s eyes softens, a glint of that green still reflected in Ben’s, and he blinks, trying to come out of this strange stupor. 

“See?” He replies hazily. “I totally trust you. Totally.” 

Mal smirks. She glances over at her friends, who Ben didn’t even notice. Mal looks back at Ben. 

“...How are they?” She asks tentatively. Her heart pounds uncontrollably in her chest. This is the moment of truth. She can feel Evie and Jay and Carlos all holding their breath, right along with her. 

“They’re good, they’re great.” Ben answers quickly. “They’re amazing! They’re, uh…”

A warm, fizzy feeling fills his mouth, trickling down his throat as he swallows. 

“I mean, they’re warm, and chewy, and-” he sputters mindlessly. That addictive, bubbling, fizzy feeling spreads from his throat to his chest, making him feel all hazy and disoriented. “And, you know, they…”

He trails off for a moment. That warm, itchy fizzing feeling begins bubbling in his stomach, spreading throughout the rest of his body. 

“Is that walnuts?” He blurts out, continuing to ramble mindlessly about the cookies. “I love walnuts.”

She knows that, comes Mal’s voice in his mind again, she must know that. That’s why she put them in there. God, she’s so beautiful, and considerate too. Always thinking about other people before herself…

“And, um, you know, the chocolate… the- the chocolate…” he sputters. “The chocolate chips are… uh…”

The earth seems to move around him, absolving him of all his duties, all his responsibilities and obligations besides pleasing her. 

“Sorry. They’re, uh… they’re warm, and soft, and sweet…” He rambles, describing the angel before him more than the cookies. His breathing gets shallow as he subconsciously steps closer, needing her like he needs air. He’s fixating on her again, aching for another hit of that intoxicating look she had trapped him in.

“Mal, have you always had those little golden flecks in your eyes?” He murmurs, voice more low and intimate as he gazes down at her. He’s looking at her differently than he had been - that much is obvious. He reaches up to take another bite of the cookie and she gasps, grabbing it from him.

“I think that’s enough for now…” She says. Ben chuckles, his gaze unwavering. She’s so considerate, always looking out for him in little ways that no one else does. His pupils dilate as he stares at her, overwhelmed by a sense of familiarity, comfort. A strange, aged brew of feelings rises up through him. It makes him think of something, remind him of someone, but he can’t put his finger on it… He’s so wrapped up in the sensation that he doesn’t even notice Jay standing behind him until he speaks, placing his hands firmly - and somewhat roughly - on Ben’s shoulders.

“How you feeling, bro?” Jay asks. There’s a knowing element, a note of some inside information shared between Jay and his friends within his words, but it goes right over Ben’s head. Everything in his mind is screaming Mal Mal Mal! You want to be around Mal as much as possible! She’s your whole world, and you’re totally obsessed with her! 

“I feel… I- I feel…” Ben murmurs, eyes still locked on Mal’s as he tries to find the words, struggling to put his finger on it. A dreamy smile crosses his face.

“I feel like singing your name-”

Mal’s eyes widen in fear and she moves forward, clamping her hand over Ben’s mouth before he can even think about actually doing it. He wasn’t going to, but he smiles into her palm as he realizes she thought he was serious. 

“Okay, well,” Mal says softly with a nervous chuckle. They’re attracting too much attention like this already, and she knows they have to move on if they want a chance at pulling this off. “Don’t do that.”

Ben takes in a deep breath, and the scent of worn, grungy leather and spray paint fumes invades his senses. There’s something else too… nail polish? It’s intoxicating coming from her skin, dizzying, and he wants more. He takes her hand in his, holding it tenderly and inspecting it closely for a moment, his eyes fixated on her bitten nails. They glint in the afternoon light, reflecting off the sparkly, cracked mixture of purple and green polish. Just like her eyes. He looks up at her so softly, and it makes her feel sick. 

“When did you do this?” He asks, glancing back at her nail polish, his thumbs tenderly grazing over her fingers and knuckles. 

“Um-” Mal starts. She’s uncomfortable. She’s not used to having this much attention unless she’s getting screamed at or is knee deep in a gang fight. She’s… unsure of what to do with Ben looking at her like that. He continues before she can try to figure out a response.

“It looks really good, it… it suits you…” He says wistfully, staring at her hand and wanting so badly to kiss it. He looks back up at Mal, and the intensity in his eyes, in his body language makes her waver for a moment. She looks over Ben’s shoulder at Jay, silently begging to bail her out. Jay bites back a laugh at the sight of big bad Mal squirming when someone shows interest in her, but he nods anyway. 

“We gotta go, we have a big tourney match to get ready for.” Jay says, playfully shaking Ben’s shoulders in hopes of snapping him out of his stupor. It doesn’t work, but he hears what Jay is saying anyway. “Right Carlos?”

Carlos blinks, walking closer to help drag Ben away. 

“Uh, right. See you later, Mal.” He says, shooting Mal a thumbs up, silently congratulating her on pulling off such a complicated, difficult spell. Ben feels his heart plummet as Jay pulls him away, Mal’s hand slipping out of his. He twists around in Jay’s grip, struggling to not let her out of his sight yet. You can’t leave her yet, you can’t! 

“You’ll- you’ll be at the tourney match, right Mal?” He asks, a distinct note of desperation reaching for her as he speaks. 

“Yup.” She answers with a performative smile, skin crawling at all the attention he’s throwing at her. “I’ll be the one in purple.”

She mutters the last part under her breath, muscle memory kicking in as she deflects her unexpected discomfort with verbal jabs. She doesn’t think anyone will hear her remark, much less acknowledge it if they do, but she flinches a little as Ben laughs loudly. “I’ll see you there.” He says, beaming at her. Mal can’t remember the last time she made someone laugh out of anything other than fear. 

“I’ll see you right after.” 

He repeats it desperately, like a prayer. Like he’s trying to convince himself that the pain of being apart from her will be over soon. A cold sweat breaks out on the back of Mal’s neck. She grabs Evie’s arm, desperate for some sense of comfort, and walks away as quick as she can without breaking out into a full blown sprint. 

Jay and Carlos attempt to drag Ben away, a little surprised at how hard he’s fighting to look back at Mal every few seconds. Eventually, after a lot of squirming at talking out loud about how great she is, how pretty her eyes are, isn’t she just the best, they manage to get Ben to the tourney field to get ready for the match. Ben stumbles through his usual routine when getting ready for a match, his head swimming the entire time. He’s completely preoccupied with thoughts of Mal. Soon it’s time to head out onto the field, and it couldn’t come sooner. 

Mal is out there, waiting for him, and he is not going to let her down. He calls out morale boosting chants with the rest of the team, psyching himself up to lead his team to victory, because Mal is going to be up in the stands watching him. He’s going to break records, play the best game of tourney in history for her. Everything he does is for her.

[slimybeth69]

Que Será, Será: Part 8

Rating: Explicit- Smut, violence, drinking/drug use. MDNI!! Summary: It's almost twenty years after some weird outbreak almost happened but the CDC took care of that...Now you're living in Austin, Texas as an adult.What happens when you meet Joel Miller who hasn't been hardened and ruined by twenty years of murder and loss? Warnings/Tags: DaddyDom!Joel/ you. no use of y/n. No physical description of the reader besides one tattoo. Reader has a background story. Drinking/drug use. Slow burn. Smut. Angst. Cheating. Graphic depictions of violence. Eventual loss of virginity. Use of nicknames/pet names (lil girl, baby girl.) DD/lg dynamics. BDSM play. Unbeta'ed. WIP. Cross-posting from my Ao3. Chapter Warnings: read at your own discretion- no warnings due to chapter spoilers.

Previously--

Joel doesn’t text you or call you for four days. You are fuming. So mad. Not sad anymore. Rage filled. But you only text him one thing on the fourth day and nothing else. 

Cool. 

And then you almost throw your phone against the wall but…you can’t afford a new phone and a laptop. Not even with Joel paying for the window. Your phone dings and it’s him. Your heart flutters until you open it. 

Sorry.

Currently-

Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool. Love that. Love all of this.

This is fucking wonderful.

You delete his text thread. You hesitate deleting the contact info because…that would be it. You don’t have any other way of contacting him unless you show up to his front door. You don’t delete it. You’ll hold on to it for a night you get real drunk and wanna make a fool of yourself. 

It’s another two weeks later and you’re at work, cashing people out when he comes through your line. You don’t even notice until he says something. You hadn’t even looked up.

“Hi.”

When you do look it feels like your heart is going to fall into your ass. 

“Hi.” It comes out of you so quiet and small. You’re so fucking scared for some reason. It feels like all the bones in your body have been turn to liquid.

“How y'been?” He asks and sounds shy. You shrug your shoulders and the anger returns. 

“Fine.” You snap softly. 

“Good.” Joel speaks softly to you but doesn’t say anything else. 

You cash him out and then he leaves. You’re so thankful that no one was behind him. You tell the person working next to you–with tears in your fucking eyes– that you need to go to the restroom and you’ll be right back. You spend ten minutes in there fucking crying. Heartbroken. 

Your co-worker– an older woman named Babs, comforts you gently when you come back teary eyed and red faced.

“You cryin’ over that mean lookin’ feller?” She asks quietly when no one else is around. You nod, but don’t start crying again. You can’t. You’ll have to leave if you start again. “Eh, you can do better.” She shrugs her shoulders.

It makes you feel worse because you don’t want ‘better’ you want Joel Miller. Wanted him so fucking badly it hurt everywhere. These last couple weeks have been nothing but pain and you can't even pinpoint it because it feels like it's overtaking your whole world.

You drive home and go straight to the whiskey cabinet. No fucking around tonight. You are drinking to be drunk. Drunk, drunk.

You change into something more comfortable, almost nothing— a little sundress because it’s hot. So fuckin’ hot. You bring your bong and bottle of whiskey outside with a can of Coke.

It’s happening: you’re getting over Joel Miller tonight. 

That bottle goes down…quicker than you expect it to, easier too. There wasn’t much left and…now it’s gone. So, you’re feeling better. Feeling not as sad. Not mad at all. Numb. Good. It’s good. Better than sad. Yes. Smoke weed. Get drunk. Be numb. The best way to handle your problems. 

It’s getting dark when your phone rings. You’re too drunk to care who it is. 

“Yessss?” You answer…very drunkenly.

“Y’expectin’ my call or somethin’?” Joel chuckles into the phone nervously. 

“Whaaaat?” You’re in shock. Stunned and still drunk. “Why’re y’callin’ m’fer?” You slur into the phone loudly. 

“You okay there, lil girl?” He asks, sounding worried about you and not nervous at all anymore.

“I’mm. Fiiiine.” You try to snap but it comes out long and drawn out, but annoyed. 

“Don’t sound fine… ” He speaks softly now. 

“Well why would I be? Huh? Huh?” You are angry again hearing his voice. “Jus’fuckin’ ‘banoned me? Fuuuck yooooou.” You are too drunk to be talking to him right now. You really should just go to bed. “I liked y-you ssoo muuuch. SOO much. I did.” You poke your chest like he can see you. “N’ y’fuckin’ leave.” You’re sad. Almost crying now. “Fuuck yoooou. I liked you!!!” 

“Can we talk?” He asks, sounding ashamed, not hearing or not caring that you’re hammered. 

“I’m lissstenin’.” You slur in a hiss. You’re pissed off. Drunk and angry.

“In person, stupid.” Joel chuckles into the phone. 

“M’not fuckin’ drivin’ nowhere. M’not that stupid!” You snap into the phone.

“M’out front. You don’ gotta go nowhere.” He whispers into the phone. You look at the back door of the house like you can see right through all the wood and drywall and plaster to try and see him. 

“Comin’.” You hang up on him and make your way to the front door. Joel is walking up to meet you as it opens. 

“Hey…” He says softly. 

“Fuuck. Yoou.” You teeter to one side but steady yourself. 

“You drinkin’?” Joel pinches his brows together softly. 

“Soooo much.” You glare at him like that’s supposed to bother him or make him feel some type of way. But it does. 

“Why?” He asks with a shrug on one shoulder. You haven’t invited him so he still on the porch. 

“Because.” You snap. ‘That’ss it.” You nod your head and blink for a long time. 

“You gon’ be okay?” Joel asks as you open your eyes. 

“Yesss.” You sigh at him.

“You want me t’go home? Delete yer’ number?” He asks quietly. “Want me t’ask y’again when yer’ sober?” He chuckles now but it doesn’t last long and he goes back to staring at you. You do not know. You want him to stay. But…why? He’s embarrassed of you. 

“I dunno.” You whisper up to him. 

“I’m sorry.” He shrugs his shoulders and tries to teach for you but you take a step back from him and scowl. “You hate me now?” Joel leans against the door frame and looks down at you sadly. 

“Y’hurt my feelin’s.” You grumble. “You're ‘sha–med of me.” You hiccup. Joel shakes his head. 

“No. I’m not.” He whispers. “I mean it. We can talk in the morning when yer’ sober. I’ll come back.” He nods his head and reaches for your hand.

You let him take it and he rubs his thumb across the back of your finger. “I wan’ you.” Your drunk heart and brain tell him what you want for you. “Real bad.” You nod at him.

“Yer’ so drunk, baby. Can I put ya t’bed?” Joel asks softly.

You keep nodding at him and he helps you back into the house and starts to lead you down to the basement.

“M’stuff… ” You point out to the back deck near the pool but Joel just walks you to the top of the stairs.

You take one stumbling step down before Joel wraps one arm around your waist, lifts you quickly and gets you downstairs himself, holding you facing out with your back against his chest.

You’re very concerned about your things outside though. “I got thingsss outssside.” You look up at him as he puts you into bed and pulls the blanket up over you. 

“I’ll go get ‘em.” He kisses the top of your head very softly and turns your fan on, turns the lights off and then you’re passed out.

It’s not a pretty morning. It hurts. The whiskey hurts you so bad. You don’t even want to open your eyes.

No. You cannot. You will die here in this bed in the basement. Die of sadness and loneliness, probably. You could weep from the pain and the heartbreak.

Agatha meows softly and jumps up on the bed behind you. You pspspspss her real good but she never comes. You roll over and then fall out of your bed quite literally. Jump out screaming, is more like it!

There is a man beside you– Joel Miller!? And he’s petting your cat!!

“What are you doing here?” You ask from the floor as Joel rolls over onto his back to look at you. 

“Want me t’go? I stayed in case ya got sick or whatever.” Joel shrugs his shoulders and sounds disappointed in your reaction to seeing him. 

“When did you get here? How did you get in?” You’re still on the floor and still so confused. Your head is pounding and you just wanna go get sick and crawl back into bed. 

“Last night. Showed up after y’started boozin’.” Joel explains and starts to get out of your bed. He has all of his clothes on except for his boots. “I’ll go. M’sorry fer’ jus’ showin’ up. Saw ya at the store yesterday n’ ya looked real nice. I been missin’ you. Wanted to talk if you’d listen…” Joel trails off as he stands at the end of your bed, towering over you still sitting on the floor. He extends his hand and helps you to your feet. 

“You– you don’t have to go.” You whisper softly. “I don’t want you to.”

Joel’s eyes light up and he takes a step closer to you. You might be sick. You put one hand over your mouth and dart into the bathroom. 

It's possible, by the power of Satan himself flowing through you that you are fine. You are going to be okay. You drink water and...actually just have to get into the shower.

It’s good there.

It feels so good to lay down, so you do, you lay down and curl up into a ball on the floor of the stand up shower for an embarrassingly long time.

All you can think about is what happened last night that your blacked-out brain cannot remember. Did you embarrass yourself? Did you do anything stupid that he can use against you in the future? Did you say that you loved him?

Ugh.

You're not sure Joel would tell you any of those things, even if they did happen.

When you stand up, things don't hurt as much, but you feel just as disgusting as you did when you got in, so you wash and scrub the evidence of the day before off and let it swirl around the drain and into the pipes to be gone forever.

You get out, and brush your teeth- that's what you needed more than anything.

When you come out you can feel his eyes on you immediately, but you don't look at him. You pull on a pair of panties with your towel still wrapped around you. You do the same thing with a new dress that barely touches any of your body when you put it on.

That's when you take off the towel and finish drying your hair.

“I’ll understand if y’dont wanna smoke…” Joel gives you a sad smile as he watches you from the couch.

It's so hard to be mad at him for ignoring you, and not giving you any explanation for why he didn't want to see you anymore when he's looking at you with his big, sad brown eyes.

“Why’d ya leave that day?” You ask softly, sitting yourself down on the couch with enough distance between you for a whole person to lay down.  

“You know. S’awkward. ” Joel shrugs his shoulders, his eyes not meeting yours anymore. “Made me feel weird– bad." Joel doesn’t sound mad when he says this, he sound almost regretful. "Felt like a fuckin' pervert."

Now you're scared of the reason he came over here.

“What changed?” You whisper.

Joel chuckles and turns his head to look at you. “I realized… I am. I wanna fuck th’shit out of your tight, young, lil virgin pussy… so god damn bad. I get so fuckin’ hard thinkin’ ‘bout it.” Joel growls the words to you quietly. “I think ‘bout watchin’ my hard cock slidin’ into yer’ lil hole fer’ the first time n’ I could fuckin’ bust right there.” His mouth is so tight when he speaks, like he's trying to hold the words back from slipping between his lips.

He's quickly closing the distance between you two on the couch, and it makes your heart race, and his words make your pussy clench around nothing.

“Oh.” 

You’re so wildly turned on by his words, he's barely said them and you're already dripping. Your stomach is fluttering so much you feel like you might actually be sick this time. There is pressure and also a weird weakness in your chest simultaneously, like it might cave in on itself. 

“That’s all ya want from me?” You murmur, staring at him as he inches himself closer to you. He shakes from side to side silently. “What else do you want then?” You close your eyes because he is so close, you know he’s going to kiss you and you know where. Under your right eye.

“All of you.” Joel breaths against your eyelid and it makes you shiver. “Everything. Whatever ya wanna fuckin’ give me. I don’ care. I’ll take it, n’ be your pervy old man.” Joel speaks quietly and softly and moves down your cheeks as he speaks until he’s to your lips. “I’ll take whatever y’give me. I want it.” Joel whisper against your lips before he kisses you. 

You lean back and let him climb between your legs and rest some of his weight on top of you. He doesn’t grind himself down into you like you so desperately want him to, he lays his hips gently onto yours and rests there as he kisses you deeply. One of his hands finds the side of your face and he cups, then slides up, carding his fingers through your hair as he tries to deepen the already intense kiss.

It’s so deep it feels like he’s trying to lick your throat, but… you’re right there trying to lick his– trying to crawl into each other's mouths. 

He moans quietly as your hands find his hair and hold him to you as your mouths do the opening and closing-thing, the desperate-thing. Wet kissing sounds, and both of your breathless, panting moans fill the room. 

“I need you.” You whisper, pulling his head away from you by his hair. He chuckles and tries to kiss you again but you don’t let him. 

“No.” He growls, and there is another attempt to kiss you, more forceful this time, but you grip his hair tightly and yank his head back, he groans when you do it but doesn’t stop grinning down at you or panting.

“Why not? Why are you dragging it out?” You’re almost angry about it but…how can you stay mad at him? He’s grinning down at you all stupid, with his chocolate brown eyes and his body is just so big on top of yours. So warm. He smells so fucking good. 

“Yer’ special, so it's gotta be special.” He pants and makes an attempt to pull free from your grasp in his hair but you don’t let go and he rolls his eyes and groans in frustration but it’s short lived when he looks back down at you. 

“I don’t want it to be a big thing?” You whisper, reminding him of why you hadn’t lost it yet. 

“Shhhh. You want it sooo fuckin’ bad. Right?” Joel speaks like he knows exactly what he’s talking about.

You nod.

“S’let me keep doin’ all this– all these fun n’ sexy things that make ya feel soooo good– they make ya feel good, right?” He questions you again and pauses with his eyebrows raised.

You nod again.

“Okay. Ya' were sooo nervous with e'ryone else 'cause ya weren't comfortable, right?"Joel is still talking like he is so smart and has all the answers.

You shrug your shoulders and nod. begrudgingly.

“M'gettin’ ya' there…” Joel nods his head. “Doin’ all this fun stuff…makin’ ya more n’ more comfortable— confident n’ how to use that sexy fuckin’ body ya got- I- need'ya a lil more comfortable ‘fore we go n’ take the plunge. ‘Kay? Sexy fuckin’ lil girl with the tightest fuckin’ pussy, that work fer’ you?”

You nod silently.

“‘Kay. Shut up n’ kiss me a lil ‘fore we smoke n’ relax a. You gotta work today?” He questions you.

You shake your head no.

“‘Kay. You still like me?” He gives you a crooked half smile.

You nod.

“‘Kay. So stop worryin’. Daddy’s gon’ take reeeeal good fuckin’ care of you.” He snaps his head forward slightly, in the process pulling his hair free from your grasp. “Ha!” Joel laughs in your face once and brings his lips to yours again and opens your mouth for you with his tongue, and it turns into who can kiss the wettest very quickly. 

When he finally pulls himself away, you're both panting as he rests his forehead against yours. Then he exhales loudly and quickly, then kisses you once more before he climbs off of you and goes back to the coffee table with weed and smoking paraphernalia on it.

You stare at him. 

Is he your boyfriend now? 

You replay the last ten minutes in your head and everything he said. It sounded…like he wanted to be your boyfriend. Kinda. Kinda sounds like he just wants to fuck you? You dunno. You’re too fucking scared to ask and look stupid. 

“What?” He asks when he feels you staring at him while he gets ready to smoke. 

“Nothing.” You snap and turn to face the TV. You put on the only thing you watch and Joel says…nothing. For a long time. You start from the first episode. He doesn’t talk for three and a half episodes of Jersey Shore before he turns to you. 

“What’re they doin’?” Joel asks with his eyes still partially looking at the TV. “What’s th’point of this show?” You snort and shake your head slowly. 

“There isn’t one. That’s why it’s amazing.” You turn back to the screen and enjoy your comfort show. So simple. So easy. Brain rotting. 

“Jus’...gettin’ drunk?” He doesn’t understand. 

“Yeah… they were doing a lot of coke too, but they didn't show all that.” You laugh and rub your feet along his thighs. He rubs your shins as you do that and cannot take his eyes off the TV. 

“That makes sense…” Joel trails off and goes quiet again. You flick your eyes to him intermediately to see if he’s enjoying himself. Never once does he look like he is. His nose is always wrinkled or his eyes are wide. Or he has no emotion about it at all but it’s been on for hours. Joel never complains. Once your headache is gone and now you are pandered by hunger…you turn the TV off and Joel’s head snaps to you. “What?” He wanted to keep watching, apparently. 

“I need food.” You groan and can’t fathom standing. 

“Wanna go somewhere? I can order us somethin’? I can…”

“Don’t say cook because I have no groceries.” 

“Do– do you wanna go get some?” Joel asks like you’ve been holding off on running errands to hang out with him. 

“No?” You’re so confused. 

“You don’t… need food here?” He has his brows pinched together like he doesn’t understand you. He doesn’t. Clearly. He has food in his fridge. 

“Uh… not really? I don’t cook for just myself. It all goes to waste. I eat out a lot. Order food…” You feel silly when you say it but it’s the truth. Go through all the bullshit of cooking a really good meal to sit alone and the leftovers never get touched? No. You don’t… not cook. Just…not all the time. Gotta have a craving for something from back home for you to want to cook. 

“Oh. Okay…” 

“Do you cook dinner every night? We ordered out when I stayed there..” You feel judged. 

“I cook more than I order out…” Joel might be judging you. 

“Well if you stick around maybe I’ll cook more!” You say it in annoyance of his judging eyes but then he smiles and snorts softly. 

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere. Gotta go to Mexico in six months but… I’m comin’ right back.” Joel smirks and wraps his hand around your ankle softly. 

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you … probably order food.” You stick your tongue out at him and he grips your ankle tighter. 

“Alright.” Joel sits up and pushes your feet off his knees gently. “Yer’ toooo fuckin’ comfortable ‘round me n' the way you talk to me?” Joel is slightly smirking when he says it but…he sounds kinda serious. “Gon’ teach you a lesson, lil girl. C’mere.” he sits up on the couch, pushes the coffee table away from his legs with his foot and pats his legs. You stand up and go to sit down but he stops you. “Oh no. Lay over top of ‘em.” He grins now. 

“What!” You take a step away from him but he has his hand on your wrist before you get too far. 

“Shut yer' fuckin' mouth n' get over here. Y’heard me. Y’wanna get spanked? Alright. Let’s go.” He nods to you over to him, pulling on your hand lightly. 

“When did I say I wanted to get spanked!?” You exclaim. This is exciting, sexy and also fucking terrifying. He was being so, so sweet a couple minutes ago and now he wants to spank you!

“I’m just gon’use my hand, baby… nothin’ crazy. No flogger, no whips.” He explains. He’s speaking like he’s trying to calm a rabid animal. Firm, but nice. 

“What the fuck is a flogger??!” You are now more terrified and a little less turned on but then you realize he said no. None of that. Just his hands… maybe. You still fight him a little. 

“That toy from that special video…” He teases and flicks his eyebrows up once. “Just using my hands today…” Joel looks so excited. 

“Your hands are so big and so strong!!” You are inching towards him though with shuffling feet. 

“I know, baby girl. It'll be okay,” Joel tugs on your hand and pulls you over his lap.

You’re staring at the black faux fur rug and wondering how you got here. You pray to Satan that you enjoy this and it’s not scary and doesn’t hurt too bad. Shit. Okay. You shiver as Joel lifts your sundress over your ass and halfway up your back. Then he shifts a bunch and leans over you partially.

“Now… I’m gon’ buy ya new ones… later today— I promise.” Joel explains but you’re confused about what he means until you hear the fabric ripping.

What is it with him and ruining your things???? He's tearing the underwear right off of you.

He doesn’t even take them all the way off– just rips them in the back right down the middle so he can have access to your bare ass. 

“Okay.” It comes out of your mouth as a whimper and you are trembling as he rubs his rough palm and pads of his fingers across both cheeks very gently. So slowly. You get goosebumps. Immediately. 

“Awwwhh. You kinda scared, lil baby?” Joel chuckles like this is so much fun for him. Scaring and teasing you. Making your heart race. It's good. So fucking good.

“Lil bit.” You mewl up to him. He laughs. Deeply. 

“Don’t be. It’s only gon’ hurt for a lil while…then Daddy makes everything better. S’how this works baby, ok?” He is being so patronizing the way he speaks-it’s fucking so hot for some reason. 

“Alright–”

And then your naked ass is greeted by his palm for the first time with real force behind it. It doesn’t knock the air out of you, not even a little, but it does sting, and it does make you hiss with clenched teeth. Then Joel's hand moves across your ass so softly, so lovingly. 

“Yer’ a good girl— you will be. Imma make you a fuckin' good girl.” Joel chuckles again softly as his hand rubs the sting out of your ass fat. It still burns a little but it’s nothing bad. You don’t hate it. “Now…do’ya know what good girls do?” So condescending. It drips out of his mouth as he talks to you. 

“What?” You purr to the floor as his fingers inch their way towards your slit. He brushes the tips of his fingers against your pussy and then leaves and goes back to rubbing your ass cheek. 

"They want more. Y’want more, Birdie-girl?”He purrs back down to you deeply, rumbling in his throat when he speaks. You nod silently. “Use that pretty fuckin’ voice you got then.” He snaps at you and grips one of your globes in his hands and jiggles it slowly. He groans happily at the sight of your body moving under his hand. 

“I want more.” You whine happily as his touch. 

“Jeesus. Okay. Listen t’me. Ya listenin'?" He confirms like you are not bent over his knees.

"Yes." 

"Good. Now shut th'fuck up n you listen good. You say: Can I have another–. N’ then you call me whatever you want. I don’ care…but you address me, ask for it, tell me whatcha want… n’ then say please..” Joel explains with a hint of annoyance in his tone and you roll your eyes. 

“Fine. Okay. Here, you ready?” You ask him, also sounding slightly annoyed. You don’t let him respond. “Can I please, please have one more, Old Man? I need it so bad. I want you to spank me… Daddy.” You lather it on for him and roll your eyes once again when you finish. Joel doesn’t say anything. His hand stays moving on your ass still. He just snickers to himself quietly. 

“You forget where the fuck yer’ layin’, y'fuckin brat?" He barks after a second. It's snapped out his mouth at you, and makes you jump. 

Your pussy is dripping. Why?? "Huh? 

"You forget what we’re fuckin' doin’? Who the fuck yer' talkin' to?” Now he is whispering, but it’s coming out of him growled and angry sounding. “Now…yer’ gon’ get a real one. That first one? Nothin’.” Joel sounds so upset--but, you think he likes this?

You dunno, not really.

Regardless, your heart is pounding, and now you’re fucking terrified. Youare so, so regretful. Why are you always being a sarcastic bitch all the time?! Shit. Shit. Fuck. He is still rubbing your ass cheek gently. 

“M'sorry, Daddy.” You whimper even though you mean to say it real strong, real powerful because you want him to know that you are really sorry.

But he chuckles at you and pinches your ass gently and his hand disappears.

Oh noo. This is gonna be so bad and you’re gonna hate it. Shit.

Then he’s going to hate you. 

“Awhhh, don’t be sorry, baby. I’m not mad.” He sounds nice again.

Like he isn’t gonna spank you again. Phew.

“I’m gon’ take you out today, shoppin’. Getchya some food. Coffee if yer’ cute lil ass wants one. If ya’ take this real good might even have a surprise for ya…” He doesn’t spank you but he’s waiting for something. You don’t know what to say. “I’ll do all that whichya anyway… but… I’d like t’spank ya real good first. Teach ya a lesson… if you’ll let me? Y'need it.” Joel is waiting for your consent. 

“And you won’t be mad if I said no?” You question him.

Joel gently– so very carefully and softly– presses his hand against your ass as he speaks comfortingly. “Never. I mean it. I like this, but y’don’t gotta. Doesn’t matter t’me. We can still go have fun n’ all do all that fun stuff anyway…” His voice is deep and even, calming and he means it. You can tell.

“Can I please have one more, Daddy, please? I’d really like you to spank me.” You are so nice. So nice and such a good girl about it-- genuinely.

He is happy with you! So happy!! He taps your ass twice gently and chuckles. “Yer’ fuckin’ great.” He chuckles a little harder and takes his place sitting straight up. “Now… it’s gon’ hurt baby. I’m sorry.” He warns you and now you’re fucking scared again. “Soon as I do it…Imma rub the sting out… n’ do something else fer’ ya, okay? But.. yer' gon' learn a lesson.” He gets your consent once more. 

“Okay.” You fuckin’ give it to him even though you are terrified because, guess what? You’re drenched. Dripping down your thighs. Soaked. You’re aching in a way you never knew your pussy could ache. It feels like your lips are on fire and they feel swollen and puffy. You wonder if he can see you looking like a desperate mess for him. Yearning for him so badly. 

Joel rubs your ass once more and then the warmth from him is gone. You wait and wonder what he’s going to say to you know to increase the anticipation but, those thoughts are all gone from your head when you hear a sharp crack from behind you and those thoughts are replaced with just blinding pain. Searing hot and focused all in the shape of Joel Miller's hand-print on your right butt cheek. Shit. That fuckin’ huuuurts . Tears come to your eyes before you really even feel the pain. The sound his hand made on you was so loud it scared the tears right into your eyes before the pain had anything to really grip onto. 

It’s gripping. Ooooh boy is it gripping. Joel’s hand rubs over the spot he just smacked and it…just keeps hurting. He is cooing to you though and the nice, and sexy things he says kinda make you feel a little better. And what he’s doing with his other hand makes you almost forget about the pain immediately. He pushes three fingers into you. Definitely more than you’ve had before. You’ve never felt so stretched and full. You can’t hold back your gasps and whimpers as he twists his fingers around inside you. 

“Yeahhh lil girl. Did so good. Didn’t even make a sound.” Joel praises you over and over. “So fuckn’ good. You did so good. I’m so fuckin’ impressed. Fuckin’ perfect.” He sounds genuine and also very excited. “You like all these fingers inside you?” Joel whispers. “Don’t forget.. I wanna hear you, lil girl.” He pushes his extremities deeper into you and continues to twist them in both directions. Stretching you.   

“Yesss...” You hiss loudly between clenched teeth. You shut your eyes as his fingers work in and out of your channel quickly. You gasp and moan softly at him inside you. His fingers are still thrusting, but also twisting inside you slowly as he pumps in and out of you. He fingers you gently for a moment, getting you used to the size and thickness of his extra finger. Once he feels less resistance and hears your whimpers turning to moan is when he starts to really thrust— pummel you with almost his whole hand it feels like.. “Oh god. Oohh fuuuck.” You groan and grip his shin and drop the other hand to the floor. “Oohhhh fuuuck, Daddy.” You moan loudly. Joel never stops, his fingers move so fast and he’s angling them down just a little to rub the pads of his fingers over your spot each time. 

“Who’s yer’ Daddy?” Joel growls down to you, the hand on your lower back sliding down to your left ass cheek to pull it apart. He spits directly onto your asshole and one rough calloused tip massages his saliva against it gently. There is no pressure against your second hole at all, just a gentle rubbing. 

“You are, old man. ” You cry out as he brings you closer to rapture and good blinding white lights behind your eyes. You want it so bad. “Please please make me come. I wanna gush on you so bad.” You’re begging so hastily. “ Pleasepleasplease .” It’s strained coming out of you. 

“Whenever you want, lil girl. Let go n’ gush all over. Make a mess. I love t'see it.” He’s speaking so encouragingly. “Just say my name when you come… like a good girl.” His fingers are going to send you there, it’s happening and he’s chuckling before you even do it. Your walls are clenching him– trying to keep him inside of you on that perfect little spot. You need just a little more. You clench your eyes now because you can– he can’t see you. 

You explode. The most powerful gush yet, maybe. You cannot say his name. You cannot even think of anything besides how to breathe. You’re also attempting to crawl off his lap like this isn’t the most incredible feeling you’ve ever experienced. Mind shattering. No white lights. It’s just silent in your head for thirty seconds and you are crying. Sobbing on his lap and you hope that everyone experiences bliss like that in their lives. 

Joel eases his fingers out of you and whistles. 

“You okay there?” He asks your sobbing, crumpled form on his lap. “It hurt? S’why yer’ cryin’?” He’s so nervous. This man probably feels like he is walking through a minefield when he is with you.

“N-N-No. It’s s-s-s-sooo good.” You stutter and then with much grace and much agility, you stand off his lap and stare at him. 

"Ohhhh lil crybaby likes getting finger fucked by Daddy? So good, it makes her cry?" He croons to you, chuckling. "I like makin' you cry like that. Gon don' do it more often." 

“You’ll do that every t-time you s-spank me?” You hold a pinky finger out to him like a literal child and he chuckles and hooks his pinky with yours. 

“Every time, lil girl. Let’s go get you a surprise.”

If Joel is going to do this kind of stuff with you when he’s done spanking you… you’ll let him do way worse. Soooo much worse. He gets you an overpriced iced coffee and doesn’t even bitch about it. You are bitching about how bad your ass hurts in the passenger seat though. So that’s probably why he doesn’t say anything. Then he takes you to the mall. A place you haven’t been in so long because you don’t really need to stop. You loved shopping in Jersey but… it doesn’t feel the same down here. Spending money doesn’t make you happy the way it used to. 

Watching Joel happily and willingly spend his money on you is making you happy though, and you never cared about this shit before. Honestly, none of the guys you ever talked to before could do this… just… treat you? All the time? You didn’t even really want him to spend his money on you. His time and him holding your hand around the mall was literally more than enough. So much more. 

“I like these.” Joel speaks very quietly and it almost doesn’t look like he’s talking at all.

“Do you even want to be in here? You can go look at whatever guys look at in the mall while I buy this stuff.” You whisper back to him, because you’re not trying to embarrass him in Victoria’s Secret. He does not look like he wants to be in here though. He actually looks like he might be blushing a little as he eyes people walking by— they’re not even paying attention to him. No one is looking at either of you. 

“I like bein’ involved.” Joel snaps softly and innocently. He is embarrassed though. 

“Did you never come in here with your ex or buy stuff for her?” You question back in a whisper. 

“No. I ain’t have money to do all this back then. Hell no. She didn’t fuckin’ deserve all this anyway.” He whispers directly into your ear so no one will hear that. 

“Okay!” You whisper. “Which ones did you like?” You look down and he has his finger already pointed at a black lace pair. “Is that your favorite color?” You ask softly and look up at him. He’s shaking his head no and then nods down back to the table of sexy underwear. Now he’s pointing to a cheeky cotton pair that are very plain but they're hunter green.

“That.” He says sharply but again, innocently. He’s on edge, poor old man. You grab both pairs he pointed out and go to walk away but he snatches you by the elbow and pulls you back. “Get more.” He urges and points to another pair. Hot pink. So pink and so bright. “Those.” He whispers again, directly into your ear. And then he’s pointing to all different colors and styles. You get six more pairs and then he’s pulling you further into the store…the sexy side of the store.

“You involved in the process for this too or this all me?” You smirk up at him and his fingers pinch at your side softly. 

“You liked that lil blue thang or…you want somethin’ else” Joel is still whispering but his eyebrows are raised curiously. 

“Well…it’s more for you—”

“Oh naw it isn’t… I want you t’feel pretty n’ sexy. Whatchya like? What makes y’feel sexy, lil girl?” His voice and breath in your ear makes you shiver. That lil sexy blue thang did make you feel sexy. It did. You grab something that is similar in black. The only other color they have is white and you… dunno. Don’t like it. 

“Okay.” You smile up at him very happily and hold all your things in your hand. Joel looks around briefly and points with just his finger– his hand is still down by his side when he points. 

“That one.” He whispers and you follow his gaze and then his fingers and he’s pointing to a white babydoll style corset top with a flowy tulle skirt– also white and very see through. It comes with a matching thong. Not something you would pick out…but he seems to like it so, you grab one and are done spending his money now. 

You think.

Joel is driving towards your house but then he turns left when he should turn right. You furrow your brows when he does that but he smirks like he know what he’s doing and where he is going. 

“What’re you up to?” You give him genuine confusion because he’s been so quiet since you left the mall. You kinda have too. You have an excuse though. You’re hungover and also, buttcheek. It still hurts. You might have to ice it. 

“Don’ worry ‘bout it.” Joel shakes his head at you, but he does offer you his big, perfect hand to hold. You accept it happily and just shut up. Happy to be here. Along for whatever he’s gotta do today. You have a little headache, but…it’ll be fine. You’ll nap when you get home.

“Whaddya gotta get here?” You ask nosily. What new electronic could he need. He had a giant fucking TV and a nice sound system at his house. A nice TV in his room too. He lifts his ass a little and reaches into his back pocket. Joel pulls out his wallet, opens it up and hands you his card. 

“Nothin’...but you do.” He narrows his eyes on yours and smirks. You pinch your brows together in confusion. 

“Huh? I dunno what you want in there. I’m not getting the wrong thing just for you to have to go in there with me, return what I got, and then pick out the right one. Come in.’ You hand his card back him but he doesn’t take it. 

“I’m gonna roll us a lil somethin’. I don’t need nothin’. Go get yer’self somethin’. You deserve it. I was an asshole.” He sighs loudly. “Should’a called you that night n’ told you how I was feelin’. N’ I didn’t. I wasn’t gonna call you again…” Joel admits quietly. “Then I saw ya at the store.. N’... I dunno…” He trails off and looks like he has more to say. But he just sucks his teeth and then nods his head towards the store. “Go get yer’ lil computer.” Joel leans in over the console and waits for you to lean in as well. 

“You sure?” You blink at him and he nods. 

“I am.” He is still waiting for you to kiss him. You lean forward and he tangles his fingers in your hair on either side of your head and holds you and inch away. Your eyes scan trace along each others faces for second before he speaks. “Claimin’ you right now. Don’t give yer’ number out ‘cause yer’ nervous that I don’t like ya. I do. Shut up. Go get yer’ computer… n’ then lets go relax a lil. You can give me a lil fashion show…then I wanna do somethin’ else witchya.” Joel grins. “Go.” 

You go to grab your purse because… you’re not going to use his card. You have money. More money now that he paid for you window to the truck. You’re not going to tell him that you’re going to pay. It’ll be a lil trick and then he can do nothing about it. Ha. You’ll already have the computer. And he will have his card back.

You open the door and Joel whistles sharply at you. Not a sexy whistle. An attention grabbing whistle. You snap your head to him and he has his hand out. You look down at it and then back up at him. 

“What?” You blink at him and his open, empty hand. 

“Wallet– leave the whole purse— you can take yer’ ID but, leave everything else.” Joel is smirking at you now. “I’m not that big n’ dumb.” 

“You don’t need to buy me a computer. You paid for my window. That’s enough.” You put his card back in his hand and he rolls his eyes and opens his door. 

“Let’s go. Makin’ it fuckin' difficult. Must wanna ‘nother fuckin' spankin’ on the other side when we get home.” Joel mumbles to himself but he doesn’t sound mad or anything. He’s teasing you. You’re learnin’ him. Figurin’ his scowling ass out. Kinda nice, actually. 

You are floating into the electronics store. Absolutely floating. He likes you? Claiming you? No one’s ever…claimed you before and it’s hot. So hot. Why is Joel so hot? It’s not fair. It really isn’t. Now he wants to buy you a new computer. He is holding your freaking hand again in public with so many people around. 

“Get whatever you want. I don’t care.” Joel mocks annoyance as you look for a computer but he squeezes your hand when he does it. You get the same one you had. It was perfect and you loved it and don’t need a different one. 

As soon as you get in the car and put your computer in the backseat you’re crawling into his lap over the console and straddling him. Kissing him, smothering him because he is perfect. Joel runs his hands along your back and ass and squeezes you. Deep kissing, such deep desperate kisses that flick and tease every inch of your mouth. They make you dizzy. 

Joel is the one to pull away but it’s so he can tilt your head to the side with his gentleness and kiss along your jaw and under your chin and down your neck. 

“Thank you.” You pant as he kisses down into your exposed cleavage as far as he can until your shirt and breasts won't let him. He groans in frustration and his hands leave your ass and he uses one to grab at the neckline of your shirt. He glances around in every direction and there’s no one around. A lot of cars but no bodies… yet. His fingers worm their way into your bra and then he pulls down and exposes you to him and anyone else in the parking lot who could possibly come out of a store and see this monstrosity. 

Neither of you care as he wraps his mouth around your hardening bud and nibbles down on it gently and looks up at you as you stare down at him. His tongue flicks at it between his teeth until he makes you moan– then he smirks and sucks it into his mouth as it ungulates the flat of his tongue along it slowly while applying suction. He makes you moan again. He does that until your hips start to move on his– your back accidentally presses into the horn on the steering wheel and honks loudly until you pull away. You both jump and then he pulls away from you with a loud, wet sucking sound. 

“Get offa me you horny Bird. Jeesus.” He lets your shirt go and is pushing you off his body and into your own seat. “Gonna get us arrested. Public indecency.” He’s smirking when he says it and also adjusting his jeans near his groin because he’s a lil tight down there now.

Back at the house Joel is sitting in just his boxers on the bed, smoking– which…sonofabitch it shouldn’t be hot, but it kind of is… A lot. A lot hot. Shit. You’re in the bathroom with all your new sexy panties but you’re not trying them on. No. You’re in that sexy black lace getup with a pair of black thigh highs that came with it and that fucking belt. This one took so long to get hooked into the god forsaken stockings. You’re fine now though– all hooked and strapped and tied in. He better not fucking rip this thing. 

You take a deep breath and open the door. Joel is waiting for you and he likes what he sees. He was already teasing himself through his boxers when you went into the bathroom and now as you’re walking out, Joel holds the joint between his lips so he can free himself from his boxers and wrap his fist around it. 

“Spin.” It’s a soft spoken demand while his fist tugs at his hardening length. You spin slowly with your hands held out at your waist. He rumbles in his throat as you do. “Now…face the other way n’ bed over.” You’re smirking stupidly as he pulls his fist away from his hand to noisily spit into his hand and then he palms it over the head of his cock before he starts to stroke himself. You’re watching with your mouth hanging open like an idiot. “You like when I do this, huh?” He strokes himself more dramatically as you watch and nod your head. “I’ll give ya a show. Turn around, lil girl. Lemme see that ass.” He sighs softly as he squeezes at the base and slowly moves his fist upwards. 

You wanna look at it. You don’t wanna turn around. But you are and you're bending at the waist with your legs together so he can see you through the lace. Joel hums happily and then, for some reason you spread your legs slightly and snake your hand up your middle from between your legs over the lace, and trace the outline of your cunt for him. He inhales sharply. 

“Get over here.” Joel growls at you and you skip to the bed and crawl in next to him but he holds his hand up to stop you. “Listen– you ready?” He smirks at you. “Lay with your head down there…” He points to the end of the bed near the corner. “N’ then put one leg here.” He points to his legs. “N’ the other right here.” Now he taps your shoulder. “I know that was a lot n’ yer’ all distracted.” He smirks as your eyes flash quickly between his talking face and him jerking his hard cock slowly– pacing himself. 

The position he wants you in leaves your lace covered pussy completely exposed to him but he’s not putting anything inside you. Joel just wants to touch your pussy through the lace. Right over the outside of it is gentle and sometimes his hand will rub your inner thigh. You’re up on your elbows watching him worship you. And he loves to talk. Loves to speak and make you hear him. He wants you to speak back to him when he prompts you. He's teaching you...

“Yer’ gonna ride this hard cock soon, you excited?” He growls as he rubs the pads of his fingers along the lace. You can feel the heat of him through the delicate, barely-there fabric. 

“Yes, Daddy.” You bat your eyelashes at him and nod. He grunts soft and pushes his hips up into his fist. 

“Can’t wait to feel how fuckin’ tight you are, baby. Fuck.” Joel’s eyes flick between yours and what his hand is doing to your hidden cunt lips. “Yer’ gonna be s’fuckin’ tight.” You don’t know why he sounds angry…it doesn’t bother you anymore. It’s just…Joel. And that’s fine. He’s not angry at you. You know this now, so, you don’t care. 

“I can’t wait to feel you inside me– feel your big cock stretching me.” You purr to him and he moans softly. 

“Don’t I fuckin’ know it.” Joel holds up his fingers and they’re glistening. “Yer’ fuckin’ leakin’ like a slutty lil thing...but you ain't.” He chuckles and pushes his fingers back against your pussy. “S’fuckin’ hot. Put my hard cock in you while you wear this. Gonna make this my pussy soon. Claim it.” Joel says it like he’s thinking about doing it but he stays still and his hand just moves on him faster. “Say yer’ a good girl.” Joel whispers to you. 

“I’m a good girl, old man. You don’t think I am?” You pout at him and run two of your fingers over one of your nipples through the cup of the lace bra. “I’m a very good girl.” You bite your bottom lip now and try to hide a smirk as his body jerks softly to this statement and his hand pumps up and down on him with more meaning and now his hips are moving slightly as he touches himself listening to your voice. 

“Y’like t’be bad though, right?” Joel pushes down on your clit gently and smirks. You nod and sigh softly. 

“I love bein’ bad with you, Mr. Miller.” You coo to him. “Love when you touch me n’ make me say naughty things.” You whisper it now and Joel is watching your mouth move, rubbing his fingers gently against your bundle over the lace. He wants to come, maybe needs to. He’s doing everything to himself and you just get to watch? “I love looking at your hard cock.” You mewl to him and his stomach clenches softly. 

“Don’t stop. K-Keep talkin’.” He stammers over his pleasure and it’s immaculate watching his strong arms flex as he strokes himself vigorously. "How bad, baby?" His body is twitching and clenching uncontrollably and now his hand grips at the meat on your inner thigh in not the most flattering way, but he loves it. “S–so fuckin’ soft.” 

“You like my soft skin, Daddy?” You purr and put one hand over your pussy and mimic what he had been doing, rubbing just around the outside. “You excited to come in my soft, tight pussy, old man?” You grin as he groans while you speak. Then Joel paints his chest and stomach with ropes of white. He groans loudly and deeply through his orgasm, puffing air out of flared nostrils heavily as he milks his cock slowly, the almost purple tip of him disappears within his fist and he covers his palm and fingers in his release. He drags his fist back down the length, smearing it down his shaft as he continues to thrust through the release. 

“Fuck.” He spits it out and lets his head fall back against the pillows he set up for himself. “Holy fuck.” His eyes are closed and he’s breathing so heavily. 

“Does… okay… be honest with me.” You ask with all of your breath, because you didn’t just come. He is sitting there with his eyes closed, listening to fast talk with his own release on his hand, stomach and chest. “Does it feel better when you do that…or when I’m on top of you?” You stare at him awaiting a response. 

“Uh.. I dunno. Feels… uh…different.” Joel answers in between deep breathing. 

“Like a better different or a weird different?” You ask casually, tipping your head from one side to the other. 

“Not weird different. Not better either.” Joel shakes his head but his eyes are still closed. “Stronger.” Joel says after a minute. 

“When you do it.” You make a statement because it is not a question. He came… so hard when he did that to himself. He didn’t come that hard the two times you did what you do on him— the moving and grinding. 

“Uh.. yeah. Kinda.” Joel isn’t looking at you. “S’not a bad thing—”

“I didn’t say it was!” You exclaim. “I’d just rather see you come like that.” You nod your head even though he isn’t looking at you. “Fuckin’ hiding it in your boxers. Lemme see that shit.”

"Yer' gonna let me come inside you?" Joel flicks his eyebrows up. "Really make that pussy mine when I fuck you? Or jus' talkin'?" Joel asks with his eyes still closed. You don't respond. Not with words.

You sit up and take his hand in yours and drag your tongue along the back of his and and run it between his fingers. This makes him open his eyes. Now he’s smirking watching your tongue clean up every drop he spilled. Off his soft stomach and his strong and broad chest. 

You’re going to do this. You’re right here and it's going to happen. Okay. 

You lean forward and Joel is waiting. He’s right there, leaning in to kiss you. Once your lips touch, he opens his mouth and parts your lips with his. It’s messy and starts to drip down out of the corners of your mouth as he swirls his tongue around with yours. His release and your saliva mixture coating each other's tongues. You feel it dripping down your chin and your neck as he deepens the kiss and you pass what you had just licked off of him…back to him. He is huffing through his nose heavily while you do this.

It is really fucking hot and messy. Sticky. Without breaking the kiss, Joel moves to hover over you, laying you back down on the bed and now with gravity on his side, he transfers it all back to you. He pulls away and looks down at you, his lips are shiny and wet-- sticky.

“Swallow it.” He stares down at you as he licks his bottom lip. You do and watch as leans into you and now with your empty mouth you can kiss and lick and suck any access off of him. “Good fuckin’ girl. Perfect.”

THIS IS MY WARNING TO ALL OF YOU INVESTED RIGHT NOW: I WRITE MEN GOOD, I DON'T ALWAYS WRITE GOOD MEN, OKAY?

That being said, Joel isn't really a bad guy-- just doesn't fuckin' know. Okay? Is he a little toxic? Sure. Is that not great? SURE.

Do I love it!? HELL YES.

tag list: @immyowndefender @korikolove @untamedheart81 @fanficlover1414, @creepycorbeaux @ohmillerbaby @rosebuds-and-moonlight @harriedandharassed (you'll have to read the other chapters, but I'm tagging you anyway)

[karmaajr]

HEYO Y'ALL!!!! I got bored and decided my last intro post was WAY too unorganised (even by my standards frfr 😔😔🙏) so i made a new one!!! hopefully this ones a bit better or else ima light somebody on fire 🥰🥰

anyways dms n asks r ALWAYS open and if ur new to my person/being/blog/existancewhatevs and wanna get to know me or smth then FEEL FREE TO SLIDE IN GIRLYPOPS!!! I'M ALWAYS BORED SOO 😭😭🙏 (might take like, a billion years to reply tho mbmb >:3)

and thus again, without any further ado, MY INTRO POST 😍

🎶 try to strike a chord but it's probably A MINOR 🎶 -> ✨️im under 18✨️ idm nsfw convos tho bcuz theyre funny :D

sooo tbh you can call me whatever you want? like ppl call me different things (eg senka calls me kam, bea calls me keke/kekere bcuz shes 🎶a meanie, a big meanie🎶 my irl bestie westie pookie poo calls me jeena CUZ HES A LIL BITCH) but MHM!!! CALL ME WHATEVER U WANNA <33 (as long as it dont feel masc bcuz my dumbass got issues w feeling masc for some RANDOM STUPID REASON 💀) (like im literally a cis girl why do i got problems w this....... but YAAAA 😭) (she/her btw!!! if that wasnt obvious!! ^^)

✨️i am cringe but i am free✨️

I SOMETIMES USE GENDERED TERMS LIKE GIRLY/BRO/DUDE/ETC BUT I DON'T MEAN IT GENDERED SO IF YOU FEEL IFFY THEN DONT HESITATE TO HMU N TELL ME TO FIX UP MY SHIT

btw im a tad bit of train wreck but if u enjoy the chaos then we'll get along js fine i think pooks 😋😋

anyways it came to my shitty little attention span one day when i was just being a silly lil girly that some of yall think im white when i say im british....... CHAT NOOO IM BORN N RAISED IN THIS TEA RIDDEN COUNTRY BUT ETHNICITY WISE IM BANGLADESHI!??!?! YALL IM LITERALLY A BROWNIE OMFDS 🤧

also a lot of this blog is a bunch of reblogs of shit im interested in BUT I DO HAVE OG STUFFFFFF, THEY'RE JUST IN THEIR OWN TAGS U GET ME??? anyways some of the tags!!!

karmaajr rambles -> for everything i post besides answers to asks :3

karmaajr answers ig :D -> answers to asks ^^

important thing for me to tag bcuz yes -> random thing i really wanna save (also im bad at tagging so sometimes thing has an "s" or tag has an "s" lmfao, ITS A RLLY USELESS TAG TO TRY SCROLL THRU ICL.... RLLY DRY AS WELL)

karmas mum mentions :3 -> i like to think this one explains itself yall 😘

daddy's unhinged -> anything about my sweet ol' pops (who totes cares abt me yall) 🥰

my sister and I -> anything my sister is involved in that i actually remember to tag LMFAO

NOT MY ASS MENTIONING PANIK -> me wanting to save things that r to do w my gf 🫶

BTW HIS @ IS @panikbutt0n AND SHE'S MY MAPLE SYRUP CHUGGING 4LIFER AND LITERALLY THE BEST THING SINCE RIPPED BREAD AND I LOVE HER SO SO SO MUCH SO ACC HIT HER UP PLZ 🙏🙏🙏🙏

btw yall, ur homegirl aint no gatekeeper so the group matching pfp thingy is from @tuturthecarvroom 's blog (n they very skibidi sbg art btw so i do reccomend frfr) and mY HEADER IS OFF GOOGLE SEARCH 😍😍

ALSO I AM CURRENTLY MATCHING WITH THE SILLIEST GROUP EVER FRFR, GONNA TRY @ THEM ALL BUT IT'S HARDDD (my memory is the shittiest thing since That One Time my friend shit his trousers on call w me 💪💪💪)

@lee1504 -> BRAINROTTED KING 🙏🙏

@d011zk1ll -> both kind af and somewhat unhinged??? like both "do a good deed to make somebody else's life easier ☺️" AND "im gonna eat a bicycle :p"

@sketchingwithlyn -> JUST THE CHILLEST GUY EVERRRR!!!!

@rot-decay-erosion -> gramps 🧓🏻 (also known as the desendant of our king garfield 😙✨️)

@afrogwhocantdraw -> RESIDENT BENLOR POOKIE

@low-senka -> the brokest senior citezen youve ever met 💔💔💔💔 (yall need to donate to my guy 🥺🥺🥺)

(also the thing below had me stuck looking at it for literally AGES so hehehehehhehehe GET TRAPPED IDIOT!!!!!! >:3!!!!!)

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(dots r fun)

anyways i have no clue what else to write!!! which is weird bcuz im a yapper frfr :D

ANYWAYS LOVE Y'ALL ✨️✨️✨️

WAIT

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THEY 👥 DONT🙅🏼‍♀️ LOVE 😘 YOU 🫵🏼 LIKE I 👀 LOVE 🥰 YOU 🫵🏼🫵🏼🫵🏼

[death-ofpeace-ofmind]

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Burial Plot: Finale

TW: Self blaming, blood mentioned, alcohol and drug abuse

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Banner: @xmads-omensx

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Tags: @klutzy-kay24 @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @lacy1986 @saythatuwill @shayeanna-ashlie @supersquirrel1996 @dontwantthemoney @xmads-omensx @heyyoplayer @renegadebirch @miwomens @astronoids @blade-dressed-in-red @lil-garbitch @chey-h @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @collidewiththesav

Author’s Note: I wasn’t going to post this part today, but the voices started telling me to post and I was too excited, I couldn’t wait to finish my first mini series

Y/N

*Flashback*

Noah was coming home tomorrow, but I wouldn’t be here. I had to do what was best for me. I couldn’t do the constant fighting, I couldn’t let this cycle keep going. It was a wash, rinse, and repeat. It had to be broken, no matter what it took. I packed my things, almost everything, the pictures on the wall got packed up within my things, except for one. To remind him that he did this. I didn’t do this. I slid my engagement ring off my finger and placed it on the picture frame on his side of the bed. It took me too long to see this wasn’t the relationship for me. Who I was got buried beneath it.*

*End of flashback*

I opened the door after hearing a knock on a random Wednesday afternoon. I opened it seeing the last person I ever expected to see.

“N-Noah.?” I asked, my heart racing, everything coming back to me, good and bad. I felt like I relived it all in two seconds.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to just show up like this, I just needed to see you.” He said softly, his eyes red and puffy, his hand covered in dried blood. “I don’t even know why I came here”

I knew I shouldn’t let him in.

“Come in, let me look at your hand” I said, the shakiness in my voice betraying me. I stepped off to the side to let him in, closing the door behind him, he walked into my kitchen and sat at the table.

I grabbed the first aid kit I kept in my medicine cabinet.

“What did you do?” I asked him, starting to clean his hand.

“I really don’t remember.” Noah says, sounding defeated. He hesitated for a moment before speaking up again. “Why.. Why did you leave like that?” He asked

“Noah, please don’t act like you don’t know why.” I tell him, my breathing getting uneasy.

“No, Y/N, I need to hear it from you.” He tells me.

“Because it was what was best for us both. Noah, you destroyed everything about me.” I said, tears starting to pool up in my own eyes thinking back to everything between us. I looked at his dark brown eyes, it was like I was looking into a broken dream. He looked so broken. No, Y/N, you can’t hold sympathy for him, not after everything.

“I don’t remember what I did.” He said again, “You don’t remember because you were so fucked up you barely remembered your own name.” I told him, attempting to stand my ground.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve any of it.” Noah said. “No, Noah, I didn’t.” I said. “I didn’t deserve a fucking thing, I know that now. You put the drugs, the alcohol, you put everything over me, when I put you put you above everything else.”

“Y/N, quit being stubborn for a second, please and listen,” He said, that pissed me off a little bit, “Stubborn? No, I am stating the facts. Where was your explanation when you had me pinned against walls, nose to nose with me, screaming at me that I was never going to amount to anything, when was I ever enough for you, Noah?!” I snapped, while bandaging his hand. “I never was.” I said while taking a deep breath.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, I wish there was something I could do to take it all back. It feels like I’m digging in the dirt, finding every way to hurt instead of finding ways to make it better for myself. Instead of finding ways to move on and let you go. I can’t find any light, it’s just dark.” Noah admitted. I could see the pain in his face. “It’s a big burial plot that I’m digging.”

“Noah.. I need you to, I need you to let it go and move on.” I told him. “But I can’t, I can’t knowing that it was my fault, I’m willing to give you whatever you need, whatever it takes to be able to keep you, Angel. I don’t know who I am without you.” He said with tears running down his own face now

“Noah, I have heard that over, and over, and over again. Nothing ever changes.” I took a deep breath. “It never fucking changes.”

“I know, I know in the past I’ve given you nothing but empty promises, but please, let me show you that this time will be different.” He practically begged.

Noah

I begged and begged for a second chance, she wouldn’t let me. I unlocked and walked through the door of my apartment, the same silence I’ve heard for months greeting me again. I threw my keys onto my table before walking over to the liquor cabinet. I truly had nothing else to lose. She was gone. My future was gone. Every dream I had of marrying her, having kids with her, everything was left in pieces within the fallout. As I crack the bottle open, my phone rings for what seems to be the thousandth time today, but again, I ignored it and turned the bottle up.

*Flashback*

“Noah, I can’t,” She said

“Please, just one more chance.” I begged

“No, Noah, you destroyed me, you treated me like I was nothing to you.” She said

*End of flashback*

Those words repeated in my mind, “I was nothing” but she wasn’t nothing. She was everything to me but I was just too blind to see it. I turned the bottle up again, this time washing the pills I had popped in my mouth down. After a few minutes, I was gone. I was numb again.

Matt

The boys and I went to look around for Noah. I finally caved and called Y/N.

“Hello?” She voice came through the speaker of my phone.

“Hey, I’m sorry to call you, even more sorry to ask this question, but, have you seen Noah? He walked out during recording and we haven’t seen or heard from him since and we can’t find him��� I tell her.

“Yeah… He was here. But left about two hours or so ago” She said, really not sounding phased

“Oh shit, thank you anyways.” I tell her gratitude in my voice. “Bye, Y/N” I hung up the phone.

“He was at Y/N’s, but she said he left about two hours or so ago.” I tell them. “I’m going to check his apartment.”

I made the twenty minute drive over to Noah’s apartment, his car was at the studio still, so it wasn’t in the parking lot. Once I got up to his apartment, I knocked and got no answer. I let myself in with the spare key I had.

“Noah?” I called walking through the door, I didn’t see him. Something was telling me to check his bedroom so I did. Noah was sitting on his bed, clutching on to the photo frame, with her engagement ring on a chain around his neck, bottle in the other hand.

“Noah?” I asked stepping closer to the bed.

“I’ve lost her, she’s really gone, Matt..” Noah chokes out through sobs. “It’s truly over”

[onthewaytosomewhere]

thanks so much for the tags today @suseagull5914 @tailsbeth-writes & @firstprincehornyramblings & @jmagnabo92 - since today seems to be the day to post snips from our fics for @safe-smuttin i'll do so as well

debating on picking a firstprince from the bulging WIP folder - so we'll see which one that ends up being but i do have an alex/pez that just needs a final edit that will be going up for it so we'll do a lil bit from that (bcuz i left this open long enough one has now been picked and has a snip below too lolz)

A BIG OLE OPEN TAG WHO ANYONE WHO WANTS TO PLAY ALONG AND SOME SMUT AND STUFF UNDER THE CUT

Percy takes his time, the anticipation hanging heavy in the air as he kneels between Alex's legs, an air of confidence about him that sends shivers down Alex's spine. He rolls one of the flavored condoms onto Alex’s cock, the sound of the foil crinkling punctuating the charged silence. Alex watches, and his heart races as Pez moves down the bed, his eyes lock onto Alex's with a playful glint that promises so much. Percy’s lips wrap around Alex, and his movements start slow and sensual. It’s a tantalizing tease that sends waves of pleasure coursing through Alex as the warmth of Pez’s mouth envelops him—drawing him deeper into an abyss of sensation. Alex gasps as his body arches upward—hips bucking as he seeks more of the sweet mouth around him. Each slow movement from Pez feels deliberate—a careful exploration that sends sparks radiating from Alex’s core. Percy holds Alex in place, preventing him from moving past the barest of motions. The pressure as his hands grip at Alex’s thighs is both firm but gentle, and it grounds him while Pez works his mouth over him with agonizing slowness. The contrast between the softness of Pez’s lips and the gentle suction around Alex’s cock is maddening. He can’t help the soft moan that escapes him.

and bcuz this sat long enough without me hitting post i decided which firstprince one it's gonna be - we'll finish that photog alex/model henry fic shall we - and a snip 😘

“My friend, Pez, has a standing reservation here, as he often needs somewhere in the area to entertain—personal and business. He’s been trying to get me to use it for a while so, when I asked to use it he was ecstatic and switched his own plans.” Alex raises an eyebrow and smiles across the table. “I’m guessing that came with a price?” “Oh, of course. He hounded me all night about who I was coming with. He was rather proud I’d actually managed to ask out my photographer for the day, and well, when he found out it was you, he had a few opinions about how I was finally batting in my league or something. Neither of us are good with sports metaphors.” Henry laughs, and Alex can’t help but want to hear that sound again. Alex can’t help but laugh, Henry’s contagious, as he watches Henry grin across the table. “Batting in your league?” he teases, leaning back in his chair. “I’m guessing that means I pass the Pez test?” “Oh, you do more than pass,” Henry says, his voice lower now, softer, almost the kind of husky Alex wants to hear whispered in his ear. Henry has a look in his eyes that makes Alex’s heart stutter—a mix of admiration and something Alex can’t quite read. “But it’s not his opinion that matters.” Alex feels his cheeks heat under Henry’s gaze and the weight of those words. He takes another sip of wine, not so much to distract himself but to keep from grinning like an adolescent fool. “Well, I’m glad I made the cut,” he says lightly, though his voice wavers just slightly and he hopes it’s not noticeable. Henry tilts his head; his smile turns to something almost playful. “Oh, you’ve done far more than that, Alex.”

okay tag ur it (in a no-pressure all that jazz way) @adreama-writes @alasse9 @blueeyedgrlwrites @catdadacd @caterpills @dezinthecloud @dizzymisslizzie @dreamtigress @emmalostinwonderland @eusuntgratie @faketrex @firstsprinces @forever-fixating @freyjaexplores @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @jafffacakess @judasofsuburbia @kj-bee @lfg1986-2 @lizzie-bennetdarcy @miharaikko @mikibwrites @msmarvelouswinchester @piratefalls @porcelainmortal @priincebutt @royal-chandler @sophie1973 @sparklepocalypse @stellarmeadow @taste-thewaste @theprinceandagcd @thinkof-england @typicalopposite @thesleepyskipper @thighzp @tinyarmedtrex @zwiazdziarka @everwitch-magiks @cha-melodius @thedramasummer @orchidscript @stratocumulusperlucidus @basil-bird @cactusdragon517