#with the bedding tucked under the mattress

[the-californicationist]

sneaking around

you didn't mean for him to hear you. you thought you had been quiet enough. not a sound had escaped from your tight-pressed lips and your clenching throat even as you teetered on the brink of an orgasm. you were so needy, and yet, you couldn't wake him up to take care of you, no matter how badly you wanted to. john price was a busy man, and he was exhausted from jetlag and warfare and all sorts of terrible responsibilities.

you could handle it, you could take the edge off yourself, slip your shorts off without shaking the mattress, tuck your finger under the elastic of your panties to tease yourself, playing inside of your hole and wishing he would wake up and roll over you, taking you like an animal without the slightest concern for your comfort. it was his hole, after all. he told you so all the time.

but, disappointingly, you held your breath, you fought the urge to move your hand too quickly, battled within yourself to keep from whining lest you wake him up.

it wasn't enough. you needed more. you were so close. you felt the electric surge of your bliss teeter just beyond your reach. your finger needed to be thicker, longer, rougher. your movements needed to be faster. you needed to be more like him. if you could just...

suddenly, you felt the bed dip. you stopped moving, freezing in place, your hand trapped inside of your panties, caught in the act. he turned over and you felt a warm, furry, heavy body roll over to embrace you from behind, his mouth sighing into your ear in a dark, smoky purr,

"mmm, what's this then? needy little slag..."

he moved his hand over your shoulder and down your arm, slow and gentle, tracing soft lines as he passed over your elbow and your forearm before finally wrapping his fist around your twisted wrist. he fanned out his palm and dipped inside of your pantyline right along with you, shadowing your exact position, all the way down until he traced the edge of your knuckle as it was buried deep inside of your throbbing hole.

you tried to apologize, worried that he would be upset,

"john, i'm sorry to wake you, i jus-"

"keep going."

"no, i'll stop. you need to sleep."

"keep. fucking. going."

that last command had the same effect as a hammer to a nail. he drove you forward, and you began to fuck yourself in earnest, moving your fingers through your flesh and chasing your hot, sticky joy. all the while, his hand was glued to yours, doing noting to help and yet feeling the way you were sprinting after your own pleasure.

his arm was heavy, and it was hard to get the pacing right, but he didn't seem to care. he was stuck to you like glue, and every time you wanted to reach deeper, he followed you, his hand pressed to yours like a cast. every time you drew lurid circles around your clit, his finger lay right beside yours, tracing the exact same line.

"tha's my girl. just like that. feels good, yeah?"

"yes... mmfh..."

"thought you could sneak one by me," his rumbling laugh goaded you, "cheeky whore. fuckin' yourself right next to me like i wouldn't know."

"i wanted... i need... please, john, i n-"

"tell me what you need," he snarled, making a point to drag his swollen prick over the back of your thighs, painting your skin with his drooling tip.

"please..."

"say it. tell it to my face, darlin'. i wanna hear you beg for it."

"fuck me, please, john. i need... unghh... i need you to fuck-"

and that's how you found yourself pinned beneath him, your body shaking like a leaf from a cascading barrage of orgasms, your thighs bruised from his punishing grip, trembling from the mind-blanking surge of heat and joy. you were so sensitive, and he knew just where to touch, just where to suck, where to push, where to pull.

before sunrise, you could feel your hole dripping with round after round of his slurried come, and you watched, helpless, as your captain's big body fucked his own spend back into you for a second, a third, a fourth time. the scent of his sweat and his sex were permeating the room, drugging you like a potion, making you wonder why you ever thought you could handle this on your own.

[dearru]

like a dog | s.hinata

-> pairing: hinata shoyo x gn!reader | sfw | cw: lovesick shoyo | wc: 1080 | genre: fluff | mlist

-> synopsis: shoyo always thinks about you. 

SHOYO’s not ashamed to admit that he’s a little obsessed with you.

He thinks about you all the time. At work, at the gym, in the shower. Your face is so etched into his memory that you appear in perfect clarity, slipping into his mind during the most mundane of moments. He’s always been an appreciative individual, but loving you has increased his gratefulness by tenfold. Thoughts of you make the ordinary feel sacred. 

But as much as he loves to think of you, he appreciates being with you far more. 

He’s just gotten home from a long day of training, and while his muscles ached, it’s his heart that feels the real strain. As much as he loves his job, hours spent away from you are absolute torture. For every second he’s not with you, he finds himself craving your presence more than anything in the world. 

It’s on nights like this one, when his body is sore and mind’s sick from longing, that there’s only one cure for his ailment– you. 

When he tip-toes into the bedroom, his chest lurches with excitement when he sees your figure laying in your shared bed. You’re already tucked under the quilted covers, but he can tell your mind is far from sleep. Your tired eyes are illuminated by the faint glow of a computer screen, and he watches you sigh deeply as your lithe fingers idly type away.

You work too hard. 

He frowns. It’s a bit silly to think about himself chastising you for overdoing it. Shoyo’s always been a proponent of the “you can never work too hard” mindset. He’s a firm believer that there are no shortcuts in life. If you want to succeed, you must pursue your ambition in earnest and push yourself past your limits. 

He’s preached this mindset time and time again. During conversations with friends, interviews with the press, and with his teammates. 

But in spite of it all, he finds himself wishing you’d rest. Even if it was just for a little while. 

Along with subscribing to the idea that there is merit in working hard, he also believes that one should lead by example. So, with a quiet resolve, he decides to display relaxation to you.

If his own selfish desires also happened to be served in the process, then it was just a happy coincidence. 

A smile tugs at his lips as he crawls on the mattress to lay with you. Even without touching you, the radiant warmth of your body embraces his skin and instantly relaxes him. 

When Shoyo was younger, he used to think he’d never be tied down. He was always flighty, always restless, always chasing the next big thing. 

But then he met you. 

You made settling down something worth doing. You taught him– among other things– the beauty of slowing down.

You are his home. 

He inches closer, longing for your affection. You hum in acknowledgement, eyes fixated on the screen, lost in whatever it was you were working on. His heart swells at the way you bite your lip in concentration.

He loves how hard you work, even when you don’t have to.

But that doesn’t mean he won’t fight to steal some of your time for himself. 

“I’m lonely.” Shoyo drawls, pressing his cheek against your blanket-clad thigh and looking up at you in adoration. Sighing dramatically, he sprawls further across you, chasing the high of your attention like a dog begging for a treat. “Come hang out with me before I die of boredom.” 

You laugh softly, and his ears perk up at the sound. 

Hesitantly, you discard yourself of your laptop and spread your arms. Nudging your head, your voice is laced with a fond amusement. 

“C’mere.” 

He obeys your call in an instant and collapses into your embrace. It’s not long before he’s peppering your face with kisses. One kiss to the forehead, another to the eyelids, and one on the lips for good measure. They’re fervent, each filled with more energy than the last in an effort to convey just how much he loves you. 

He’s been waiting for this all day. 

“You missed me that much?” You tease through soft gasps. 

Grinning, he nods. Shoyo knows you. He’s come to recognize that beneath all the layers of sardonic sarcasm, there’s a faint fondness you reserve only for him.

“Even when I’m with you, I’m thinking about how much I’ll miss you when you leave.” He confesses, inhaling your natural scent as he curls into you. 

As sappy as it is, it’s the truth, and Shoyo is always unapologetically himself. 

You tilt your head, amused, “So why don’t you just stay with me all the time?” 

“Really?” His breath catches, and the excitable child in him rears its head. Gripping you tighter, he looks up at you with something hopeful in his chest.

When you nod, he unravels, and his smile widens. It’s bright and boyish and full of love. 

 “Okay.” He beams. “Lets. Let’s be together– always.” 

It’s a foolish declaration. Shoyo is old enough to know that by now. But when you comb your fingers through his hair in the way that you currently are, it makes him want to believe in the impossible. 

“You’re such a dork.” You chuckle.

He grins at the playful jab. He doesn’t mind when you tease him. He loves everything you do. You fill him with such a unique fondness that sometimes, he wishes he could just carve his heart out and give it to you. Maybe then you’d see how stained it’s become with your essence. 

Shoyo doesn’t think you’ll ever be able to fully comprehend how much he loves you, or how much these little moments mean to him, but that’s okay.

For now, he’s fine with just showing you.  

Settling down, he closes his eyes and lets his heart slow, basking in the feeling of your gentle hands tracing him. In your reverent touch, his once weary body is long forgotten. You make him feel warm all over, and he swears that you have the ability to transport him into a metaphysical space that transcends the limits of flesh and bone. 

In the quiet still of the night, with his heart full of love and your hands full of him, Shoyo affirms that he truly does love to think about you.

But nothing compares to the feeling of being here, in your arms.

–a/n: um…hey…haha…im not self inserting…you are…

shoyo tag for @cherrysurf

[mistressofthemanor]

He was being so attentive in all other areas except the one that she had seemingly planned. Except the one she was certain that he would be willing to share with her. It was all confusing and if she was honest, it felt a bit more like Nikolas. He was so attentive and caring for her in every way possible but he lacked the passion that Lucius and she had shared. Perhaps she was reading more into it because of that? Something was off, whether it was herself or Lucius and she could only hope that a good nights sleep would cure whatever it was. However, as he came towards her and and accepted her request as whilst his hand rested on her cheek, she felt immediate relief wash over her. Smiling and leaning into his touch, she brought her hand up to rest over his and was eager to kiss him, even if she could tell how tender he was being with her. That moment was gone as soon as it came the moment he explained he was off to shower. Honestly, that was all she heard. She stared at him and forced herself to nod in response but was even more confused. He was going to shower but he wouldn't bathe with her? Shaking her head after he turned away, she explained it off by thinking that maybe since she had been gone he had taken little to no baths and he wasn't too keen on doing that. As he gathered the tray, she looked in his direction for a moment, "Will you take these sheets down with you to wash? I'll put on new sheets..." She pulled them from the bed and bundled them up to tuck under his arms as he didn't have his hands free. Within seconds, new sheets were smoothed out and replaced on the mattress, as she used her magic to do so.

Bones of Contention

[supernotnatural2005]

"I got you" - Drabble

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: You're feeling low and Dean is there to comfort you.

Word Count: 834

Warnings/tags: Mentions of depression, feeling low, fluff, sweet Dean.

AN: I've been feeling a little low lately and I guess this transpired into a little Drabble. Also this is for anyone else who can relate and would love a comfort cuddle from Dean ❤️

Masterlist

The bunker was quiet. Too quiet.

Dean had always thought of silence as a bad sign. It meant something was wrong, something lurking just out of sight. And right now, that something was you.

You had been with them for years now, a constant presence in their lives. You weren’t just another hunter passing through, not just someone they worked with. You were family. And for Dean, more than that, even if neither of you had ever put a name to it. He just knew that without you, things didn’t feel right.

For days now, you had been slipping away. Not physically, but in a way that scared him more. You weren’t talking much. You barely ate. You moved through the halls like a ghost of yourself, your usual spark dimmed into nothing. His jokes—the dumb ones that always got at least a scoff or an eye roll—didn’t even earn a glance.

At first, he told himself you just needed space. That maybe you were tired, or still shaken up from the last hunt. But then space turned into isolation. And isolation turned into something darker.

Even Sam had noticed, and if Sam was bringing it up, Dean knew it had to be bad.

“She’s not okay, Dean,” Sam had said the night before, voice low, concern written all over his face. “I tried to talk to her, but she just brushed it off.”

Dean had nodded, pretending he wasn’t already losing sleep over it. Pretending that every time he saw you drifting further away, it didn’t scare the hell out of him. Because it did.

And now, standing in the doorway of your room, that fear settled deep in his chest.

You were curled up on your bed, knees drawn to your chest, staring blankly at the wall. The lamp beside your bed was still on, casting a dull glow, but you hadn’t moved. Hadn’t so much as flinched at the sound of the door opening.

Dean had seen you hurt before. He’d seen you bloodied and bruised, stitched you up after hunts gone wrong. But this? This was different. This wasn’t something he could fix with gauze and whiskey.

He had known this was something you struggled with, something that had nothing to do with monsters or demons. You had told him once, in a quiet moment between hunts, that it wasn’t always about the job. That sometimes, your mind just turned against you. That there weren’t always reasons or triggers, just days when you felt stuck, when everything felt too heavy, when even breathing felt like a chore.

Dean had listened. He’d heard you. But he had never seen it like this.

He hesitated for only a second before stepping inside, shutting the door behind him. The room felt cold. Maybe it was just in his head, or maybe it was the fact that you had barely moved in days, barely been here even when you were physically present.

He wasn’t sure what to say. Dean Winchester, king of smart-ass remarks, suddenly speechless. But words didn’t feel right, not now.

So instead, he moved to the bed, toeing off his boots before climbing in behind you. The mattress dipped under his weight, but you didn’t react. Carefully, he eased himself closer, slipping beneath the covers and pressing his chest against your back. His arms wrapped around you, strong and steady, pulling you into him like he could keep you from slipping away completely.

For a long moment, there was nothing. Just silence. Just the faint sound of your uneven breathing. Then, finally, your shoulders trembled.

Dean felt it before he heard it—the sharp inhale, the way your fingers curled into the fabric of the blanket like you were holding on for dear life. And then the dam broke.

A choked sob tore through you, and that was it. He turned you in his arms, tucking you against his chest, holding you tight as your body shook with everything you had been holding back.

“I got you,” he murmured, voice low and steady. One hand cradled the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair as the other rubbed slow, soothing circles along your back. “I got you, sweetheart.”

You gripped his shirt, your tears soaking into the fabric, and he just held you. No empty reassurances, no telling you that everything was fine. Because he knew that wasn’t how this worked. He knew you weren’t okay. But that didn’t mean you had to go through this alone.

He wasn’t going anywhere.

Dean pressed his lips to your hair, lingering for just a second longer than he should have. But he didn’t care. All he cared about was keeping you here, keeping you with him, even if he couldn’t fight this battle for you.

And as he held you close, feeling your body slowly relax against his, he silently promised himself—whatever it took, however long it took—he’d be right here.

Because you were his. And he wasn’t letting you go.

AN: I know this is a little more dark and gloomy compared to what I usually write, I guess this is just an expression of reality in some fiction. For those who have experienced this or are going through something similar, you're not alone ❤️

Dean Winchester Tag List:

@bettystonewell , @nancymcl , @happyfxckinghorrors , @ambiguous-avery @jollyhunter @tbgfvfdcb @crooked-haven @chevroletdean @paganvamp @stoneyggirl2 @deans-baby-momma @spnaquakindgdom @ladykitana90 @lyarr24 , @impala67rollingthroughtown @jackles010378 @riteofpassage77 @spnaquakindgdom @cevansbaby-dove @shadysoulangel @piptoost @star-yawnznn @deansimpalababy @megara0224 @hobby27 @idontwannabehere7 @maddie0101 @kr804573 @shadysoulangel @mrs-nesmith @zepskies @ohheyguyss @suckitands33 @ultimatecin73 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @arcannaa @aylacavebear @bobbdylann @jaredpadonlyyyy @waynes-multiverse @impala67stellawinchester @youroldfashioned @bonbonnie88

[littelovelunette]

Sevika and her wife (reader) are really sleepy and they're both heading to bed but once reader's head hits the pillow, they start doing that revenge bedtime thing(so pretty much reader's just on their phone doing whatever), so Sevika tries to get them to stop bc they rlly need sleep

Phone Later

Sevika was exhausted.

It had been a long day—one filled with fights, late-night dealings, and more bullshit than she cared to deal with. The only thing keeping her going was the thought of sinking into bed beside you, finally getting some damn sleep.

You were just as tired—she could tell from the way you had leaned against her on the walk back to your shared room, eyes barely staying open.

You had even mumbled something about how you couldn’t wait to sleep when she helped you change into something more comfortable.

So why the hell were you still awake?

Sevika was already half-asleep, her body sinking into the mattress, when she felt the soft glow of a screen against her eyelids. She cracked one eye open. Grey eye reflecting the light of your phone as she peered to see your mindless scrolling, snoring muted when she woke.

You were lying beside her, head propped up on the pillow, phone held inches from your face.

Your fingers scrolled mindlessly, eyes locked on whatever held your attention.

She groaned. "Seriously?"

"Hmm?" you murmured absentmindedly, not looking up.

Sevika exhaled sharply through her nose, rolling onto her side to face you. "We literally just got in bed. You were just complaining about how tired you were."

"I know," you admitted, voice groggy, but your thumb kept swiping. "Just… five minutes."

Sevika narrowed her eyes. "That's what you said last night. And the night before that."

You didn’t answer, too absorbed in whatever nonsense was keeping you awake.

With a tired sigh, Sevika reached out and snatched the phone right out of your hands and placed it away on the bedside table.

"Hey!" you protested, reaching for it but Sevika held you down by her flesh hand.

"Sleep first. Phone tomorrow," she said flatly, arm like a heavy log over your body.

You huffed, flopping onto your back dramatically. "You're such a mother."

Sevika snorted. "Yeah? And you're a menace."

A smirk tugged at her lips as she rolled onto her back. When you tried to climb over her to grab your phone, she caught your wrists easily with one hand, flipping you onto your side and locking you in place.

"Sevika!" you whined, wiggling against her hold.

She only hummed, tucking her face into your neck. "Mhm. Keep squirming and I'll just hold you tighter."

You huffed again but stilled, defeated. After a moment, you grumbled, "This is unfair."

"Life's unfair. Now sleep."

You sighed, finally relaxing against her. Your body molded into hers naturally, warmth spreading between you.

Sevika smirked, pressing a slow kiss to your shoulder. "See? Not so hard, huh?"

You mumbled something incoherent, already slipping into unconsciousness.

Sevika chuckled softly, finally letting her own exhaustion pull her under.

[kinda-indecisive]

｡･:*:･ﾟ Your Journal ﾟ･:*:･｡

How I imagine the reactions of the LaDS guys when they accidentally find a notebook you (MC) decorated the cover of with their name.

Part 3: The Caleb Edition!

.•*¨`*•.•*¨`*•.☆.•*¨`*•.•*¨`*•.☆.•*¨`*•.•*¨`*•.•*¨`*•.☆.•*¨`*•.•*¨`*•.☆.

Caleb

~ ~ He is never going to take this for granted ~ ~

You showing up at his front door in Skyhaven not even a day after his return from the Deepspace Tunnel was a wonderful surprise.

Though you had had some major disagreements the first time you were in his home, after a handful of trips to Linkon City, you two had managed to close that gap between you. And though he had been terrified it wouldn’t be possible, you’ve even made some good memories in this house that completely redefined your friendship, your relationship, as a whole.

Therefore, when he drops into your room while you’re out, planning to toss your now empty laundry hamper onto your bed, only to catch a glimpse of the cover of a journal with his name on it tucked messily under your pillow… he is more than a little surprised.

He was used to finding little notes of yours in his things. And too many times had he found sticky notes attached to him proclaiming “Caleb is a dummy” and “Caleb is a big meanie”. Such notes had been so frequent during your childhood together that they rarely put him in a bad mood.

Now, however, things have changed between you two so much that he finds himself worried. 

He worries over whether you’ve been keeping tabs on him. You did something similar when you were kids; pretending to be a spy, you followed him around the house recording every little thing he did. Things like ‘Caleb is drinking orange juice this morning instead of apple juice’ and ‘Caleb is reading his favorite book about planes again! How boring.’ But nowadays, if you still felt the need to surveil him despite the conversations you’ve had…

Taking a deep breath, he pulls the corner of the notebook out further… then very nearly swoons.

Cheerfully tucking the journal under his arm, he saunters into the living room.

.•*¨`*•.☆.•*¨`*•.

When you return home, Caleb is in the kitchen surrounded by pots, pans, and an impossibly delicious aroma. Excitement bubbles up in your chest as you wonder what feast he’s prepared that requires so many dishes. 

“Well look who finally made it,” he teases, grinning as you walk in sheepishly.

“Sorry. The seminar lasted longer than expected. And then Tara wanted to get drinks.”

“It’s all good,” he waves his spatula dismissively, then, “Though… did you know I had to do five loads of laundry when you were out? And only one of those had any of my clothes in them.”

“You didn’t have to do all that,” you chirp, though your nerves suddenly shoot through the roof. Dismissing yourself quickly, you run into your room. Moving around the clean laundry on your bed, you search, beginning to panic when the thing you’re searching for fails to turn up. You’re about to flip the whole mattress over when the sound of someone clearing his throat behind you makes you turn around.

Standing against the doorframe, Caleb holds your journal in one hand, his eyes shining bright with so much mischief that you have no doubt your missing item has been located.

“You looking for something, pip-squeak?”

He dodges and spins around as you attempt to tackle him, grabbing you by the belt to steady you on your feet before you fall flat on your face.

“Caleb, you—!”

“Y’know, your art style hasn’t changed much since we were kids. And I guess I’ll forever be a grumpy little apple to you, won’t I?” he chuckles, “Though there is something different about these heart doodles and the way my name is written again and again and again…”

You manage to swipe the journal from him and shove it under your shirt for good measure. Pouting up at him, he continues to smile down at you until you feel your resolve start to crumble and you look away, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Anyway, pip-squeak. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes. I made all your favorites. You can consider this a celebratory feast. Though it’s up to you to decide what we’re celebrating.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Got around to completing this old prompt for Caleb! Hope y'all enjoyed it :D

Let me know if you ever want to join a taglist for any or all of the guys.

I'm also not opposed to fluff requests, though I am very much an inspiration-motivated writer and therefore might not get around to fulfilling them heh. It's not you, it's me (and I genuinely mean it lol).

taglist❤: @fallthelong

LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MASTERLIST

[lilithschosen]

Your honor, Rio getting a plug + getting strapped + edging, your honor please 🙏

anon these honorifics i swear, you're just tryna get on my good side (and it's working)

"wait LC it's 8am and you wrote something?" damn right, freaks. here's some edging with your morning coffee 🥰

Agatha's fingers grab at Rio's scalp as she gently turns her head to watch over her shoulder. She gasps, hips jutting back as she sees the dark blue silicone plug in Agatha's hand.

Agatha has her lying on her stomach, legs spread as far as possible, and a pillow under her hips. She would've grabbed the wedge pillow after the two managed to fumble through the house and into the bedroom, but opted for a slight elevation versus the drastic one.

"I wanna see how much you can take, is that okay?"

"Please, god, yes."

Agatha chuckles, the sound going directly to Rio's core. She runs the tip of the tapered silicone toy up her slit, gathering the wetness from the hour of teasing the both of them did to one another. Agatha watches as the toy glistens under the soft, warm light of their bedroom. She lifts the plug up, pressing the tip with enough force it slips past the tight muscle ring of Rio's other hole.

"Please, Agatha," she whines breathily. She grinds her hips into the pillow, clit dragging deliciously against the pillow case as she moans. "Fill every hole, make me feel nothing but you."

The plug wasn't thick, her gathered arousal was more than enough to help fit it into her. Agatha forces it through until the flared base rests comfortably between the globes of Rio's ass.

Agatha lifts onto her knees, scooting forward with her hand at the base of her harness. She guides the strap to Rio's pussy, rubbing at her clit with the tip of it. Rio cries out, grinding harder against the pillow.

"Sit still for me, baby," Agatha's fingers dig into Rio's hip to steady her. "Can't fuck you if you keep moving."

Rio whimpers, her walls clenching around nothing despite her ass being deliciously full. Agatha drags the head of the toy through her folds before she tucks the tip into her cunt.

"Oh god, yes!"

Agatha purses her lips, "You know my name, hon. It ain't god."

She sheathes the silicone cock into Rio, the harness pressing into the flared base of the plug as she leans in fully to make sure Rio has every inch of her. Rio reaches back with a hand, nails leaving crescent shaped indents into Agatha's wrist.

Rio rocks back, holes filled with toys and clit continuously grinding against the pillow beneath her. She doesn't wait for Agatha to set the tone and instead bounces on the toy.

Agatha's nose crinkles as she watches the toy rapidly become devoured by Rio's needy core. She simply lets her fuck herself on her strap until she watches Rio's movements grow erratic. Her hips lift heavier and slower, her palms press into the mattress as she grinds down into the pillow. Her jaw drops, just on the edge of an orgasm when Agatha drills her hips forward, pinning her into the bed.

"That's one."

Rio groans as the impending orgasm dissolves partially. Her clit throbs, her walls clench around the toy and she keeps herself deadly still.

"How many times do you think I can edge you before you forget how to speak?"

Rio barely could speak now, the number wouldn't be that high. She's desperate for release after the first lack of an orgasm.

Agatha drums her fingers against the flared base of the plug before she twists at it. Rio shouts, mushing her face into the blankets as she aches.

"If you get to five I'll let you cum," Agatha thrusts the strap in again, punctuating the last word. "Maybe."

[snowball-doie]

✮⋆˙ 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 ˙⋆✮

| pairing: johnny x manager!oc

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Tooth-aching fluff.

Aurora wondered if it was too late to jump ship.

After waking up hungover in Yuta's bed with no recollection of how she got there, she wondered how she could’ve possibly said yes to going on a date with Johnny Suh. And how was that the only thing she could remember? Granted, she wasn’t drunk at the time, though she wished she was so she had an excuse to not go… But everyone and their grandmother was talking about how Johnny finally asked out Aurora and she actually said yes to it! Her headache was killing her, but that was not the problem. The problem was Johnny already texting her, asking if she wanted to go out not that night but the following night… for dinner…

“Ah, fuck me,” Aurora groaned, throwing herself back down against the mattress.

Yuta walked into the room, shirtless, a smoothie in one hand while the other was tucked into the waistband of his pajama shorts to keep it warm. Men. Aurora rolled her eyes— She was surrounded by men. Disgusting, run-of-the-mill men.

“Ohaiyo,” he said.

She glared at him. “I blame you.”

“What did I do?”

“I don’t know, but I blame you.”

“Okay, well, while you do that, do you want breakfast?”

“No. I have to figure out what I’m gonna do about this.” She turned her phone to show him her screen, but without his glasses on he couldn’t see anything from such a distance, so while squinting and leaning forward, he approached the bed then took her phone to read Johnny's texts. “I’m going back to sleep and never waking up.”

Yuta scoffed. “I love that you can tell Ten helped him write these.” He handed her phone back. She raised a confused brow. “They went home together last night.” She shrugged. “He was way too drunk to text you a coherent sentence like that.”

“Yuta-kun, please convince me this is all a bad idea.”

“He’s a good guy, and he’s down bad for you, I don’t see the harm in giving him a chance, oneesan.”

She groaned and kicked her feet around like a kid throwing a tantrum. “You’re not helpful!”

Sipping his smoothie, Yuta started walking out of the bedroom again with a final comment about how he was going to cook something for her to eat because they needed to go shopping. Shopping? Why shopping? “Because you’re not going on your first-ever date looking like that,” he replied all the way from the kitchen. What was that supposed to mean!

Yet there they were, at Hyundai mall, Yuta hiding under a million layers of clothes to keep himself warm but also to protect himself from anyone that would recognize him as he chauffeured Aurora around the place. He was a man on a mission, searching for the best stores with the cutest clothes that he thought Johnny would like to see on her. She couldn’t imagine that. She knew Johnny, but not well enough to assume what he’d like on her… But Yuta had known Johnny for nearly a decade, he’d seen various girls come and go out of Johnny's life, and he heard all the praises and complaints Johnny had to give about each of them. He liked neutral tones, apparently. While Aurora was more inclined to wear pink, she wasn’t opposed to the thought of wearing the cream colored sweater and brown sweatpants Yuta made her try on.

“No,” he immediately said once she stepped out of the dressing room.

“Why!”

“It doesn’t fit you right.”

“It fits me just fine.”

“Sure, it fits you, but it doesn’t fit you right.”

Aurora stared at him. “Nihongo.” She crossed her arms and stared at him flatly, almost glaring at him if it weren’t for the fact that he immediately grabbed her wrists to push her hands back down to her sides.

In Japanese, he explained perfectly that Aurora looked best while wearing things that fit her slimly on the top with high waisted pants that were tight around her waist yet bell-bottomed. “You’ve got tits for a reason, show them off. And you’ve got big hips and ass, you don’t want all of that to hide you like a tent in the shirts you wear.”

“It’s too cold outside to wear a crop top,” Aurora argued after she put on the next outfit for him to see. A black crop top with the same brown sweatpants. “I’ll freeze to death before I even make it to his place.”

“Yeah, but you look sexy.”

Aurora rolled her eyes.

Yuta bought the outfit for her as an apology for secretly betting against her and Johnny. After seeing the total at the cash register, Aurora really had no complaints when it came to Yuta tapping his black card against the scanner, because she couldn’t wrap her brain around how a black crop top sweater and brown sweatpants could cost nearly $300 USD. That was why she didn’t shop at Hyundai mall or Lotte World mall, though. Her income didn’t give her many opportunities to even go window shopping at the various luxury stores around Seoul which all of the boys at work always raved over. If she were back in America, she knew that she would have found the same outfit at Walmart or Target for approximately $50 USD— And even then she would’ve considered putting it all back on the racks.

Yuta wanted to spend the day at the mall even after settling on an outfit. Aurora was too worried about being seen, so she convinced him to at least leave the touristy area surrounding the mall so they could instead get lunch somewhere together where they weren’t as likely to run into fans. She was right, of course. No one said a thing as they entered the dak-galbi restaurant and were seated at a table against the wall. No one bothered them as they ordered and ate. The only time anything happened was when the owner came over to deliver their receipt, she asked if Yuta would sign something for her daughter who was a big fan of NCT. With a smile, Yuta nodded before taking a clean paper napkin where he wrote a note and signed his name on it before handing it over to the owner— along with his credit card for the meal. She bowed deeply at the hip while thanking him profusely. “My daughter loves you. Thank you so much.” Yuta shrugged it off with a laugh, “It’s really no problem.”

At a nearby cafe, no one bothered them at all, not even for a signature or to snap a photo from across the room. For a couple of hours, Aurora and Yuta sat across from each other, drinking matcha, talking about work, missing Japan, the new album, when and where they would go on their next vacation, and Aurora’s date with Johnny.

“Do you think you’ll kiss him?” Yuta asked with a smirk.

Aurora rolled her eyes. “No.”

“Not even if he’s a perfect gentleman who walks you all the way to your door after dinner?”

“Nope.”

“You sure?”

“Why? You have another bet on that or something?”

Yuta rolled his eyes too. “Fair enough… Are you at least nervous?”

Of course she was fucking nervous! How could he ask such a stupid question when he’d caught her regretting her entire life after waking up hungover in his bed, asking if she could find any way to get out of the whole thing. Aurora had never been out on a proper, official date with anyone, and it was Johnny Suh whom had asked her out, so those two factors mixed together made Aurora’s stomach queasy, and the matcha wasn’t helping, so she got up to order a croissant to help settle herself.

“It’s cute to see the two of you like this,” Yuta admitted after she sat back down.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know… Not ‘in love’, but something like that.”

“Yeah, maybe let’s hold off on the L word ‘til after the first date.”

Yuta reached over to pick a bite off of Aurora’s croissant until she smacked his hand away and muttered something about his diet and not wanting to get yelled at by his trainer. Aurora picked the bite off for him then, out of pity, fed it to him.

“So when are you going to ‘not in love, but something like that’ with someone, Yuta-kun? You can’t just always bully me. I need an excuse to tease you too.”

“Maybe if our schedules weren’t so busy I’d be able to go out and meet someone.”

“Ha ha. I’m being serious.”

Yuta shrugged and stretched his arms over his head with a slight groan. Once he settled again, he slumped in his chair. “I promise, oneesan, when I find someone, you’ll be the first to know, then you can get back at me for all of this.”

“Deal.”

Aurora didn’t sleep that night because of her upset stomach. She really had half a mind about texting Johnny to tell him that she didn’t feel well and would have to cancel their date, yet every time she picked up her phone and saw Johnny's excited message that read: “I can’t wait” in response to her confirming their date, she couldn’t bear the thought of flaking on him after all the effort he’d put into catching her attention just to ask her out after getting a little bit of that liquid courage in him. So she remained restless in her bed while counting down the hours until the sun would come up and she’d at least have an excuse to sit at her desk and play video games with Haechan or something until she would have to leave to see Johnny.

In the early hours of the morning, around the time Aurora elected to get ready for a long day of gaming, Johnny texted her while she was showering to ask if she was alright with having the date at his house. Her stomach did another uncomfortable somersault while reading that. Who did he think she was? There was no way he thought that it would be that freaking easy to coax her into his bed! After all that time of Ten and Yuta reassuring her that Johnny wasn’t the playboy guy anymore and was indeed really down bad for Aurora, he was just proving to be a little bit of a fuck boy.

Aurora immediately made it clear that she wasn’t looking to fuck, so if he was inviting her over with that in mind, then he could just forget about it and pretend that the whole thing never happened. However, Johnny insisted that he was only doing it because he had a fun at-home-activity they could do together since it would be hard to go out and be comfortable. If they went somewhere, he would have had to cover up completely, they would’ve had to stay separated from each other so as to not stir rumors if the media saw them, and they would’ve always had to be on their guard about who was around and who was looking at them. It wouldn’t have been fun. He wanted it to be perfect, and by being at home, they could actually hang out and talk honestly. So she decided to give it a shot and go over. Typically she wouldn't have taken someone up on an at-home first date because of all the horror stories she heard— But Aurora had known Johnny long enough, and they had far too many mutual friends for anything bad to happen. She trusted that it would be okay.

It was the first time she had ever been over to his place. When they became close, it was during lockdown, so they never visited each other, and after the pandemic’s peak passed and they returned to work, there just wasn’t any time for Aurora to invite him over to her place or think about stopping by his. Besides, she thought they were friends, but not like that. So when she arrived at his apartment building after taking a train and then a bus, she stopped. There was a gate surrounding the entire property of luxury apartment buildings which prevented just anyone from coming and going, so she had to buzz in using Johnny's apartment number and a code that he gave her via text an hour before she left her own apartment; and once she was inside the building, she felt sick. Did he really make that much money? She knew how much the boys made off of NCT work, but it was never enough to sustain having a place that nice, so it must have been all those side hustles of his, modeling and whatnot.

Aurora checked the apartment’s floor number when she got in the elevator. That couldn’t be right… Right? She pressed the button, but she doubted herself as the doors closed and she began ascending floor by floor, higher up into the air until it stopped and the doors opened. The hallway was nice. Not gross, moldy, decrepit. White and clean, almost like it had been freshly painted even though it hadn’t— But that just went to show the difference between the type of lifestyle Johnny could afford versus Aurora who warily walked down the hallway until she reached Johnny's door.

Was it really, really too late to jump ship?

Before she knew it, Aurora had rang the doorbell and moments later the door opened to reveal Johnny who seemed a bit flustered and out of breath when he saw her. He relaxed and smiled, like his body was telling her, “Oh, it’s just you.” In fact, he practically said it himself when he welcomed her in and said, “I thought you were the caterers. You’re a bit early.”

Aurora blushed as she stood awkwardly in his entryway, unsure of what to do with herself, meanwhile Johnny walked further into his apartment to set up some stuff. “Sorry, I just… I like to be early rather than late. People being late’s a pet peeve of mine.”

He peeked his head around the corner. “I know.”

He flashed a cheeky smile before disappearing again, prompting Aurora to take off her shoes so that she could follow him, but after taking a step forward, she remembered that she should find a place for her jacket and purse to be polite, so she awkwardly settled back in the entryway and stared at the wall of hooks next to her. Johnny had a lot of jackets. Various colors, weights, lengths, and purposes for occasions like going somewhere fancy versus just walking to the office. There was one empty hook in the middle of it all, so Aurora dared herself to just go for it. She peeled off her jacket then hung it up before securing it with her purse hung over top.

“You fine with waiting a few more minutes ‘til the caterers show?” he asked.

Aurora turned the corner to find Johnny in his kitchen, cleaning up the counter space so that there would be room for whatever food he was having brought directly to them. She nodded and shrugged. “Sure.”

After seeing him in his element, which was his home, Aurora found herself relaxing a bit upon realizing that she wasn’t underdressed at all. She worried that Yuta might have accidentally set her up to fail with such a casual outfit for a first date, however Johnny was just as comfortable as she was. He was wearing just a black t-shirt and grey pants— Nothing fancy at all. Yuta made the right call, Aurora would have to remember to thank him later.

But then of course, timing was seemingly on their side as the doorbell rang again, prompting Johnny to jog around Aurora in order to answer it. She continued to linger awkwardly. Wasn’t he supposed to be the lingerer? What was she doing? She felt stupid.

As the caterers entered, Johnny directed them towards the kitchen using Korean before quickly telling Aurora in English that she should make herself comfortable— Which really meant that she was in the way and needed to sit down so that they could work in peace. So she listened, shyly making her way to his couch which she sat on just barely… Lounging entirely felt weird. She would've been even more uncomfortable if she ended up reclining, so she called it good by sitting with just her butt and a bit of her thighs on the cushions, and that was it. Johnny made sure the staff of three people knew what they were doing before he stilled in the middle of the kitchen and glanced in Aurora’s direction with a bright smile that said: “Okay, we’re good.” When he was ready, he joined her on the couch.

“Do I want to ask, or…” Aurora gestured with her eyes in the direction of the kitchen.

Johnny peeked over his shoulder to watch the staff who were platting some finger foods and pouring wine in glasses Johnny had on hand. “You know those, like, mug painting places in the States?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s not as popular here, but this company provides private catering and mug painting dates, if that makes sense.”

Well, she was witnessing the set up first hand, so it did indeed make sense. While they sat and ate some snacks that were catered for them, the company set up Johnny's dining room table with all of the paints, brushes, and mugs so that they didn’t have to lift a finger outside of just sitting and painting together. Watching the whole thing, Aurora knew it was an expensive date. Far more than if it had just been the two of them at a restaurant or at a movie theater— Even if he had rented it out completely. But she also understood that he wanted something at home to maintain their privacy, and that doing something like watching a Netflix movie while eating a delivered pizza wasn’t exactly special. Hell, Johnny never really gave her the vibe of “casual dates”. He always came off as the type of guy that would go all in to impress his partner, which she undeniably found appealing…

“Did you find my apartment alright?”

Aurora nodded. “I figured I was in the right place when I was shell shocked by how expensive the building looks.���

Johnny chuckled at her. “Yuta lives in a nice place, too. Same with Taeyong.”

“Yeah, but not like this…” She glanced around his living room one more time to catch a glimpse of the book titles he had on his shelf. “Do you read a lot? Besides manga, I mean.”

“Depends… I’m usually too busy to get invested, and when I do have time to read something, I’d rather spend it on manga you recommend.”

Aurora blushed while still looking away from him, so she spent another minute collecting herself before she settled back in her seat to look at him. “You should get hobbies besides what I think.”

“That’s no fun.”

“Sillyehamnida” one of the employees shyly called from the empty walkway between the kitchen and the living room. Johnny turned to face them. “Everything’s ready.”

Johnny stood and bowed gratefully. “Gamsahabnida.”

They bowed in return, not saying a word, until they scurried to the exit with the other staff members, at which point they all bowed again and told Johnny and Aurora to enjoy themselves. They left as quickly as they had initially appeared. Once the door was shut and locked, Johnny inspected the state of his dining table and kitchen. The dining table had plates for dinner, silverware, and wine glasses set at place settings across from each other, meanwhile the mugs, paintbrushes, and paints with caps screwed on were set to the side for whenever they wanted to paint. As for the kitchen, they’d set up a catering pan across two of the stovetops which were set to low to keep the food warm, and there was a pot of sauce beside it.

“I requested pesto tortellini since I know you like it,” he told her as he sniffed the pesto sauce. Smiling contently, he asked, “Are you hungry?”

She could eat, yeah. She was more concerned with the idea of how he knew he liked pesto tortellini when it was such a niche meal she didn’t have too often because it wasn’t a popular thing in Korea. Actually, she couldn’t remember the last time she had it. Maybe when they were in France a couple of years ago and she wandered into a touristy place with Yuta and Taeyong in search of Italian food… in France…

So while Aurora sat at the dining table, Johnny grabbed their plates to spoon the pasta onto. From her spot at the table, she could see that there was fresh garlic bread and a salad too on the other countertop, so Johnny made sure to get plenty of that for her as well.

“Wine?” she offered.

“Please.”

She opened the bottle of red wine on the table in front of her before pouring half a glass for Johnny first then a little less than half for herself. Curious, she lifted her glass up to her nose to swirl and smell the wine. Expensive. That was her first thought, that it smelled expensive because of the hints of chocolate and cherry aromas which countered the fact that the wine had been aged a long time. Between the smell of pesto, garlic, and wine, Aurora couldn’t help but feel oddly flattered— Or perhaps wooed, if people even used that word anymore.

Johnny served Aurora first to make sure that he’d done everything to her liking before he sat down across from her, at which point he fidgeted with his own plate, wine glass, and all of the paints on the table in order to make sure everything was perfect, just the way he wanted in order to impress her properly. Aurora tried to hide her grin. It really was funny seeing the usually confident and nonchalant Johnny Suh struggle with trying to go above and beyond for silly old Aurora.

They spent the next two hours talking. Honestly, it didn’t even feel like two hours to Aurora, but it had indeed been that long from the moment she entered the apartment. The meal passed quickly because it tasted good and also because the company was enjoyable. Johnny was funny as per usual. He made Aurora laugh with the stupidest jokes imaginable, and he always smiled when he managed to get a laugh out of her even when she tried so hard to keep a straight face in order to not let him think that he was actually funny otherwise it would get to his head. Too late. It was like every other time they had chatted on Discord while playing video games or at work when he was trying to linger, the only difference was that there was a hint of flirting in the way they spoke to each other while under the pretense of being there for a date. Aurora wasn’t quite sure how first dates were supposed to go, but she decided to treat it like she was testing the waters. Did she actually like Johnny like… that? Yes. Did they have chemistry? Absolutely. Could she bear the thought of going on a second date with someone who had the same humor as the ahjussis? If that was part of the package deal that came with Johnny Suh, then alright.

In the two hours that they talked, Johnny moved their dinner plates to the counter top to make space for them to paint their mugs. Aurora was honestly the worst when it came to things like that. All of her creativity flew out the window any time she had a paintbrush in front of her, so she spent the first few minutes sipping her wine while waiting to see what Johnny would do. Much to her surprise, he went for the pink first. Knowing him and reflecting on what Yuta said about Johnny's favorite colors, pink was the last thing she expected him to do to paint his mug. He didn’t say anything to tease the look on her face as he painted. He just continued on with the conversation like nothing was amiss… So she took a paintbrush and dipped into the green to draw some drop vines from the lip of the mug.

“One of these days I want to take my mom to South America or something. She doesn’t get many opportunities to travel the world like we do, but I really think she would enjoy it, you know? She likes food, and she likes to sight see. It’s not really my thing… But I like doing those things with her because it makes me appreciate the little things in life.”

“Like what?” Aurora asked as she washed her brush.

“Going to random restaurants in the middle of a new city and sitting there, people-watching. No matter where you are in the world, people are always going to be people. Adults running to meetings that they’re late for. Families playing with their kids who are discovering things for the first time. Couples falling in love. Old people feeding birds.” Johnny laughed to himself. “I get to see all of that while getting to appreciate the fact that I’m privileged enough to take my mom to see those things in different corners of the world.”

“Is this your way of telling me to put Brazil on the next tour?”

“Chile, too.”

“Oh, yes, can’t forget Chile.” Aurora also chuckled quietly before putting all of her focus into painting a black cat beside the handle of the mug.

Johnny looked up briefly to ask her, “Is there anywhere in the world you’re dying to go to?”

Aurora took a moment to consider while still silently painting. She’d been to plenty of places ever since she started working with NCT 127. They’d been all over the United States— As if she hadn’t already done that while growing up— They went to Central America, a city or two in Argentina, and they bounced around Europe so much that Aurora could never remember which city they were in every morning when she woke up during press tours.

“The Maldives… If I win the lottery some day…”

Johnny cleaned his brush then set it to the side to indicate that he was finished. “I don’t know if you could convince the execs to put on a show there.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

They both laughed.

“If you win the lottery, would you take Yuta with you?” he questioned.

Aurora put her paintbrush down too and spun her mug slowly to make sure there wasn’t anything she needed to fix or add. “Depends.”

“On?”

“If there’s someone who also likes to people watch who’d want to go with me.”

To that, Johnny didn’t say anything, but he bit his lip to stop himself from grinning as Aurora peeked up at him through her lashes.

“Alright, let’s see the Mona Lisa’s competition,” Aurora said. Johnny immediately scooped his mug up and hid it under the table. “What—” She leaned down to look, but Johnny lifted it back up over the table. She sat up again. “John—” He hid it under the table a second time. Aurora squinted at him, “Why?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s for you.”

“That’s not fair!” she protested.

He whined back at her, “Why not?”

“‘Cause I made mine for you too, but I was gonna show you.”

Johnny laughed. “It’s cute,” he said, gesturing to her mug. “I like it.”

She’d painted a mug which she figured fit his minimalist aesthetic yet had details of how she viewed him. The green vines were pretty on brand for Johnny, but the small sunflowers that hung from them were just her way of reminding him how nice his tattoo was, and the black cat trying to climb onto the handle was playful and cute like he was. She liked the idea of him being the black cat because he really wasn’t anything like that— Sure, he could be quiet and mischievous. Sure, he could get grumpy like that. However, Aurora thought he was just cute like those cats that tried to act tough until they inevitably gave in and cuddled up with their owner. The hope was to design something cute enough that Johnny wouldn’t want to hide it in the back of his cabinet, which was why she wanted to show it off to him with the intent to get a live-reaction so that she could change something last second if he didn’t like it, yet he was being that mischievous black cat again by refusing to let her see the mug he’d secretly made for her. No wonder he went for the pink first!

“So then show me the one you made for me—” She tried to sneak a peek under the table again, but Johnny continued to elude her. She huffed. “If it’s for me, I’ll see it eventually.”

“Yeah, when it’s glazed and everything.”

“You’re difficult.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.”

When they were done painting their mugs and drinking their wine, the caterers returned to take them so that they could be put into the kiln at their office; and once they were glazed and fired, they would be delivered back to Johnny directly so that he didn’t have to be inconvenienced by picking them up from their office. It was a good business plan. Aurora could tell why they charged so much and why the celebrities were jumping at every chance they could get to hire them.

Against expectations, Johnny invited Aurora to stay a little longer by joining him on the couch to talk some more while drinking the little bit of wine he had left in his fridge. Just talking! That was what he insisted. So she decided to stay until she at least felt tipsy enough that maybe the thought of kissing him was overwhelming.

“You did not!” he exclaimed through a loud laugh.

“Shut up! It’s embarrassing as it is without you making fun of me!”

Johnny held his stomach as he laughed so hard it hurt. “After all… After all this time… I thought you’d never done anything embarrassing in your entire life—” He nearly toppled off the couch.

“Says the one who does some stupid shit on live TV every week.”

“Yeah, but I never threw a tantrum at five years old and hit my head against the floor on purpose to make a point!”

Aurora rolled her eyes and leaned back against the arm of the couch. “I never should’ve told you that story.”

“I’ll make it up to you by telling you something embarrassing about me, you just gotta prompt me.”

“Prompt you?”

“Yeah, like what do you want to know about me?”

Without an ounce of hesitancy, she finally decided to bite the bullet by asking him what had been on her mind for months.

“So how come you’ve been so adamant about keeping your hair long and blonde these days? I thought you liked it short so you fit in more.”

Johnny picked up his glass of wine. “‘Cause you like it.”

So there it was, the answer Aurora and her friends had anticipated for months yet were too scared to poke at. Honestly, she was surprised that Johnny would even admit to it in the first place. Didn’t he have any shame? Surely it was somewhat embarrassing to tell her that he spent months and months growing his hair out and dying it just so that he could get her attention because he was really just waiting for the perfect moment to ask her out… But no. Johnny wore it like a badge of pride, which was also understandable considering his plan worked.

“But do you like it?”

He smiled. “I do. It’s not what I’m used to, but the compliments are nice, and it’s something for me to take care of rather than just waking up and mindlessly running a comb through it before racing to work.” He drank. “I think this has been my favorite era so far, just between the group I’m with, the song, the dance, and actually getting to participate more— Thank you for that, by the way—”

Aurora blushed.

“The hair just makes it perfect, in my opinion.” He finished his glass then set it down without bothering to refill it. “That’s not embarrassing, though.”

She didn’t find humor in embarrassing him, however, regardless of the fact that he was being a good sport about it in order to ease her mind about oversharing stories from her childhood. When she didn’t give into his lead-on, Johnny decided to just go for it himself.

“I got one. When I was ten, and I was still in America, I was sleeping over at my friend’s house for a weekend so we could go to this Star Wars marathon at the local movie theater, and in the middle of the night, I woke up because I felt, like, oddly wet, you know? So when I sat up, I saw that my friend’s cat had been on my chest, peeing all over me—”

Aurora stifled a laugh.

“He dug his claws into my shirt when I tried to push him off! And he just kept going! Like, come on, man, take me to dinner first or something!”

Aurora couldn’t hold back any more. Through her laughter, she told him, “That’s way worse than my story.”

“Maybe,” he replied with a satisfied grin, “but it made you laugh.”

Without really thinking anything of it in the moment, Aurora reached out to push his shoulder to say, Shut up, but she quickly remembered in the moments following that she wasn’t with Yuta or Taeyong, and she wasn’t sitting on Johnny's couch as his friend but as his date. Suddenly she was embarrassed all over again. However, Johnny didn’t make note of it or even tease her further, he just navigated the topic easily onto the next question in order to see what else he could learn about Aurora. She said he hardly knew her, right? Well, what was a date if not the opportunity to learn everything about her?

Johnny was the first to say something when he noticed that Aurora was getting tired yet was too shy to interrupt the flow of their conversation. He checked the clock on his living room mantle, then double checked his watch, and once he’d concluded it was late enough, he asked Aurora how she was planning on getting home. She shrugged and said the same way she arrived: public transportation. When he laughed at that and pulled out his phone, Aurora was mildly confused all the way up until the point where he admitted he called a taxi for her and that it would be outside of his building in the next seven minutes, giving them plenty of time to wrap up their evening properly.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she insisted, feeling guilty.

“There’s no way I can let you go home on the bus in this weather and this late at night. I invited you over, I should be responsible for seeing you home safely, even if I can’t go with you.”

Aurora knew there was no argument she could make against that, so she simply smiled and thanked him with a slight bow of her head.

“I’ll see you out.”

They stood in unison, Aurora heading to the coat hangers to retrieve her winter coat and purse. Johnny didn’t grab anything to keep himself warm. However, he made sure to step around her to open the door wide enough for both of them to step out, his arm above her head while his grip didn’t waver. It was perhaps the first time she ever truly noticed how tall he was, at least in comparison to her and within the context of being on a date with him. On their walk to the elevator, Aurora realized why Johnny didn’t bundle up. She had to go down alone because they couldn’t be seen together, so he at least saw her to the elevator like a gentleman.

“Listen, I, uh…” He grinned to hide his shyness. “Thanks for coming over… For, uh, giving me a chance.”

“Well, all-rounder, it was impossible to not give you a chance after you spent so long drooling over me.”

“I wouldn’t call it drooling.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

They laughed together. He looked really happy that night, more so than she’d ever seen him, which made her smile never waver. That smile of his only wavered when the elevator dinged and Aurora stepped in, signaling the end of their night together.

“Next time, you should come visit my place,” she told him.

Johnny's face brightened up at the fact that she proposed there would be a next time. He nodded eagerly. “I’d like that.”

The elevator doors began closing. “See you tomorrow, all-arounder.” Before he could think to reply, Aurora was on her way down.

taglist: @tiredlittlevirgo , @henderysposts , @trash-number-one , @mystverse , @strawberryax0lotl , @hisunflower , @alili-milidoy , @junrenjun , @slayhaechan

[icy-hot-slut]

I think bed sheets should be wider at the top so there’s room for you and the pillows underneath without totally disrupting the tuck

Like this

[cherry-bomb-ships]

Urgh ok I go eep now. Mentally I'm here

[steinwayandhissons]

i hope they take an actual long fat rest (but not too long hehe) because they FUCKING DESERVE IT

[catchastarorten]

—Sleep well.

Pairing: Kang Dae-ho x fem!reader

Summary: Gi-hun suggested that the group took turns staying on watch in case the other players attacked, him and Jung-bae stayed up while you and the others napped, Dae-ho took his place beside you to rest with you.

Content: fluff, cuddling(?), you head-butting him in your sleep lol, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not really proofread, sorry!

Word count: 808

You were tucked into the corner with your group—Gi-hun, Jung-bae, Young-il, Dae-ho, and Jun-hee. Trust was a rare thing in the games, but the six of you managed to stick together, watching each other’s backs through the brutal rounds.

The weight of exhaustion clung to you, but Gi-hun’s paranoia kept your eyes open longer than you would have liked. He wasn’t wrong, though. The fear was palpable.

Your group pulled a couple of mattresses off of the bunks, arranging them as best as possible. One was dragged and laid flat against the wall, the others shoved under bunk frames for some semblance of protection.

“Is this really necessary? I don’t like sleeping under there.” Jung-bae asked, sliding a mattress to Gi-hun, who shoved it under a bunk frame.

“Once the lights go out, somebody might attack us.” Gi-hun said, his eyes focused and his voice steady. “The prize money still goes up if we kill each other. It’s a part of the game they designed.”

You exchanged a look with Dae-ho, who sat cross-legged beside you, holding onto some blankets and pillows. He had been your shadow ever since Red light, Green light. Always sticking close, insisting on protecting you in this place after seeing the way you froze during the first game—when he told you to stay behind him closely so you could use him as a human shield.

“We need to take turns keeping watch after the lights go out.” Gi-hun muttered, sitting down at the foot of the bunk beds, his sharp eyes scanning the room. “I’ll take the first watch.”

The lights flickered out not long after, leaving the only source being the giant piggy-bank hung on the ceiling that was glowing dimly.

It was after a while when Jung-bae rolled out lazily from under a bunk and plopped down beside Gi-hun, the two of them speaking in hushed voices.

You laid down on one of the mattresses, wrapping the thin blanket around yourself. Dae-ho settled beside you not long after, and though you weren’t expecting it, his hand brushed against yours as he shifted to get comfortable, and you were sure you saw his face flush before he hid it, which barely worked, to be honest.

“Don’t worry,” he mumbled, his voice low and soothing. “I’ll keep you safe. I’ll fight them off if they try to come over here.”

The sincerity in his words made your heart ache in the best way. Dae-ho had a knack for looking out for you since you met him in the games, even in the little ways—giving you his portion of food, stepping in when someone got too close. You hadn’t known him long, but there was this easy warmth between the two of you.

Within minutes, you were sound asleep.

Dae-ho’s soft snores filled the small space you both shared. Exhaustion had gotten the better of him, just like it did to you. His arm had draped protectively over your side in his sleep, his presence a cocoon of safety.

Gi-hun and Jung-bae sat near the bunks, their attention now drawn to the sound of soft snoring. Both sets of eyes landed on you and Dae-ho, curled up together on the mattress.

“They’re out like a light,” Jung-bae remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You know, seeing them like that... it reminds me of when we went on strike. We were occupying the factory, and management told us to come out. They said anyone who came out voluntarily would be let off the hook and receive more severance pay.”

Gi-hun stared into the distance, as if recalling what happened.

“You were sleeping beside me and you were talking in your sleep. ‘Mom, I’m hungry, give me some food.’” Jung-bae made an exaggerated crying face, and Gi-hun gave him a glare as Jung-bae nudged him with his elbow, smirking.

Their voices echoed, and soon enough, soft laughs filled the quietness.

Jung-bae chuckled again, louder this time. He clapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. The noise had reached you, and you stirred slightly. Dae-ho, still asleep, curled closer to you instinctively, his arm tightening around your side. His movement caused your head to shift slightly, and without warning, you head-butted him in your half-asleep state of grogginess.

Dae-ho furrowed his brows, a soft noise escaping his lips as he shifted again, burying his face into the crook of his arm. You tugged the blanket over your shoulders, muttering something incoherent before nestling deeper into the mattress, falling right back asleep.

Jung-bae stifled another laugh, his shoulders shaking with the effort. Gi-hun gave him a glare, but a faint smile was already tugging at the corners of his mouth too.

“They’re like kids,” Jung-bae whispered, his tone fond.

“Let them sleep. They’ll need it.” Gi-hun shook his head and sighed softly.

[tojipie]

˚ ✧ ────────

you’re 5 minutes into your first round and to be quite honest, you’ve never been more sure that fushiguro toji and his god given ability to dirty talk is something you’ll take to your grave.

you’d been with other guys before, ones with a nasty habit of running their mouths during sex. ones that’d grab you by the neck and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how good you felt, how tight you were, how they couldn’t wait to fuck you again.

toji is entirely different. nothing, and i truly mean nothing, compares to that old man when it comes to mouthing off in the bedroom. he’s formulating sentences you never thought possible, spewing stuff that would have you clutching your pearls and running for the hills any other given day.

you’re holding onto your composure by your teeth hearing him say the things he does, thighs and arms burning as you rock back and forth on his dick.

“take what you need pretty. uh huh, keep fucking me,” he chuckles, winding a fist into your hair to pull you back onto his cock when he notices you trying to crawl away.

you honestly don’t think you can take it anymore. if the way your guts were currently being pummeled into oblivion wasn’t enough, the way he’s talking to you right now has you in crisis.

it’s all too good, suspiciously good, and embarrassingly enough, you think you might be nearing your edge only 7 minutes after making it to his bed. your arms fail you as you try to crawl up the bed and away from the too-good feeling currently frying every wire in your brain.

“awww, you runnin’ from me?,” he laughs, letting your hair go to cage you in from behind, two solid arms settling on either side of your head.

your words escape you each time you muster up a response, eyes rolling back and he takes over again, shoving you face down and absolutely destroying that special spot tucked away inside of you. toji’s like a furnace, cooking you alive with the heat the radiates add his abs and chest.

“told ya you couldn’t handle it,” he teases, watching you writhe under him. “not with this dick.”

you feel something wet—a tongue you realize— traveling up the base of your spine and tapering off at your neck before solid teeth clamp down on the skin there.

okay, wow. fuck. you realize he’d lapped up the moisture settling in the dip of your back, licking the sweat from your skin like an animal.

“gonna let me taste every part of you? hmm?” he says in that too sweet voice you only hear when he’s teasing. he lets go of your neck with a pop to admire the bruise his bite leaves in its wake, sucking another one right under it for good measure.

you fall over the edge with no warning, so overwhelmed with pleasure that your mind and body continue to work separately.

the sound toji makes is beautiful. low, long, and guttural. radiating from the deepest part of his chest like a fan, and for a minute, you think he might be feeling the same overwhelming pleasure you are.

“ughh-hah don’t move, don’t move,” he whispers over and over, massaging the fat of your ass while your body flutters around him. you feel something viscous leak out of you, dripping down the seam of your heat and onto the sheets.

“when the fuck did you have time to cum?,” you finally muster. you don’t think you’d be able to move if your life depended on it, limbs sinking into the mattress like tubes of jelly. you really can’t move once you feel 200 pounds of laughing muscle settle on top of you, keeping you grounded like a paperweight on a measly little envelope.

“what, y’ quitting on all of this?” he laughs, gesturing up and down himself so you know just how irresistible he thinks he is. the worst part is that he’s right, just based off of how hard he’d rocked your world in the last 10 or so minutes.

you feel invigorated by some stroke of a miracle, pressing back on his still-leaking dick as a silent invitation.

“what, more? y’need more of me you little minx?” he laughs, grrriiiinding his tip right up against that fleeting spot you would have never been able to get to on your own.

and just like that he’s back to fucking you, pulling you into him like a toy at that same perfect pace.

“bite me hard if y’ want me to stop, you hear me?” he commands, shoving your face back into the pillows once he sees you nod.

[satoruxx]

you're sweating when you wake up, skin sticking painfully to your bedsheets as your bleary eyes dart around, attempting to make focus of your surroundings. the room is still dark, barely touched by the slight bit of moonlight that attempts to peak through the closed windows—defiant. it takes a minute to realize that the sounds that are breaking the silence are actually coming from your own throat—breathy, wheezing gasps of terror.

your stomach drops when your fingers grip cold and empty fabric. he's gone he's gone he's go—

"what are you doing up, pretty?"

your head snaps to the doorway. satoru stands there, sweats hanging low on his hips even as his hand remains curled around a glass of water. his hair is tousled with sleep, but his cerulean eyes are sharp and lively.

as soon as he sees the panic lacing your expression, his eyes widen, long legs practically tripping over themselves as he stumbles towards you.

"what happened?" he asks sharply, frantically placing the cup on the bedside table to take your face into his palms. shades of blue dart back and forth across your features as he perches one knee on the mattress and peers down at you. "are you okay?"

his touch sends electricity through your veins—a splash of ice water pulling you away from that painful reverie.

your heart both clenches and soars, the idea of what you saw being terrifying, and yet finding out it wasn't true being that much more relieving.

"i just—" your voice comes out choked, and satoru's fingers twitch against your skin imperceptibly. "had a bad dream."

you think your brain must be cruel for conjuring up a dream in which satoru could suffer to such abhorrent extents.

"oh sweets." satoru's sigh is sympathetically soft, thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek just barely. "it was just a nightmare."

"i know," you swallow, voice shaking. there's an uncharacteristic wetness pooling at your waterline. "i-it just felt so real."

"baby..." satoru immediately pulls you against the steady planes of his chest, thick arms snaking around your waist to eliminate any measly amount of distance between you two. you prop your chin on his shoulder, sighing as you feel his snowy hair tickling at your cheek.

"it wasn't real, sweetheart," he says, pulling back just slightly to push a piece of hair from your face. his thumb then drags under your eyes, wiping away the unshed tears. "see. you're here, i'm here. everything's all good."

"yeah." you're nodding, unable to take your eyes off of him because he's real and alive and so breathtakingly perfect. "yeah, you're right."

he gives you a lopsided smile, eyes bright and glowing. "i don't like to brag, but i usually am."

you snort out a laugh, missing the way his expression turns pleased at the sound. "hilarious. you love to brag."

"you got me there," he shrugs, grinning as you stick your tongue out at him. the lighthearted banter solidifies the fact that satoru is fine and unharmed and completely yours, but you can still feel the apprehension coursing through your veins. chills run up your spine—you try not to show it.

but of course, satoru has always been able to see right through you.

his teasing smile goes soft, and he inhales deeply.

"was it about me?" he asks, climbing into bed next you. you lay back down carefully.

"yeah," you mumble, watching him tug the blankets over your body and tuck you both under a cocoon of warmth.

"hm." something in his tone tells you he's not unfamiliar with the feelings you seem to be experiencing—his body shifts closer to yours. ocean eyes carefully asses you, deep and calculating and so concerned even as he smoothes a warm palm over your shoulder blades. "wanna tell me what happened?"

the truth is you do want to, because satoru has always understood you better than you've ever understood yourself—you have no doubt he'd be able to comfort you just as well as he normally does.

and yet...

"no," you answer, pressing your nose into his neck. a deep breath in, the lively scent that is so inherently your gojo satoru filling your very soul. "it's okay. i think i'll be fine."

when you shut your eyes, images flash behind them—of bloodied bodies and stitches and swapped souls. yet a chaste kiss to your forehead pulls you back to where you're supposed to be, warm and grounding.

"i know you'll be fine," satoru murmurs, lips tickling your brow as he speaks. you think you can hear the gentle smile as he says it, and your grip on him tightens—never letting go. "i'm right here after all."

[a-mint-bear]

Comfort Object

Male Yandere x Reader

You see a really weird "job" post online, and the money seems too good to be true. But you aren't really in a position where you can turn it down...

You hope it doesn't get weird.

---

It was a very… concerning “job” posting.

But desperate times, and all that. 

It had shown up about a week ago, and it wasn’t hard to see why no one had taken the poster up on it as of yet. 

Bedmate Needed

● 11 pm to 6 am

● $25/hour up front

● Riverside Motel

● Room 44

● Not a sex thing

The last note seemed tacked on in a later edit, but it was still… not great.

You’d have to be either a gullible idiot or a desperate one to go for a job like this. Unfortunately, you were the latter. Very much so.

You couldn’t take another night on the street. It was getting so cold out. The promise of a warm bed was almost enough to lure you in on its own. But the money… 175 bucks just to sleep in the same bed as some internet creep?

Despite the clarification in the post, this had to be a sex thing, right?

You hadn’t gone that far, despite everything. It’s not like you hadn’t considered it… but the thought was too terrifying. Making yourself completely vulnerable to a stranger that could just decide you were less than a person and do whatever they wanted to you? You had to draw the line somewhere.

But at this point, you weren’t sure that there was a line you weren’t willing to cross anymore. 

. . .

The Motel wasn’t the seediest you’d ever seen around town but it wasn’t a place you would’ve voluntarily stayed at even two months ago. Back when you had options. 

Creepy post guy opened the door after a couple of knocks, with an awkward, pregnant pause between them. He wasn’t quite what you expected for an internet creep, but he was still a sight to see.

Really bad posture and dark, greasy-looking hair, with the darkest circles under his eyes you’d ever seen. He looked like he was about to pass out at any second, but he held it together long enough to gesture you into the room. 

“Hey…” His voice was low but he sounded nervous. And so, so tired. “You’re… You’re a little early. That’s…that’s fine. Uh, come in.”

You felt his eyes on you as you passed him, and it didn’t help your anxiousness. Not one bit.��

“Hey so, I-I really…I uh, need a shower.” He stumbled over his words with a breathy, nervous laugh. “Unless you wanna sleep next to a… fuckin’ sweaty mess all night. Do you wanna go first or…?”

You must’ve looked nervous because his eyes went wider, digging into his pocket.

“I wasn’t tryin’ to… Oh, uh…here.” He nodded, pressing the money into your hand. “Up front, just… just like I said. You just…just seemed like you maybe sorta needed one too.”

Some part of you must’ve still had an ounce of pride left because your whole body felt on fire with shame, embarrassment so consuming that you froze up. It had been a couple of days…

He just looked away, seeming like he was embarrassed himself. 

“I w-wasn’t gonna like… try to join you or peep on you or nothin’!” He tried to assure you, eyes darting in a panic and talking a bit too fast. “If I, like, go first? I won’t get mad if you change your mind and leave… I get it. I’m not gonna like… go after you or call the cops or nothin’ like that. I just…”

He stared at the floor, nails digging into his arm as he seemed like he was having trouble breathing.

“I really… I really need this.” He was so quiet, but his voice was so desperate.

You couldn’t really be considering this, could you?

He seemed more like a weird, awkward, sad guy than a real danger or some kind of pervert.

And you really did need a hot shower. 

It seemed like a safer bet to have him go first, if you were really going through with this. And it would give you a chance to look around the room for a spot to tuck away your pocket knife, just in case.

When he was in the shower, you did just that. The spot between the mattress and bed frame would be easy to grab at if things got hinky.

If things got all touchy-feely, as you suspected they would, him finding that on you or leaving it in your pocket when your clothes got tossed wherever would be really inconvenient. 

Steam rolled out of the bathroom when he stepped out, shirtless but with sweatpants and a towel around his neck. He was thin, almost alarmingly so, but you could still see muscle, enough to pose a problem should he decide to overpower you.

This was your last chance to back out, before you’d be vulnerable to this odd stranger.

But even if you left, the money wouldn’t last long, and it’s not like you had any other options. 

You were so grateful that the motel tub wasn’t disgusting, but you would’ve gotten clean regardless. Two days worth of sweat and funk was washed away and it felt so heavenly… But it was hard to relax when you were trying to stay hyper alert of any noise that could be that man trying to get in or even eavesdrop.

But…

Nothing. 

You finished your shower and brushed your teeth, doing everything you could to feel clean that a motel bathroom could provide. And there was no sign of the guy. 

But you had to go back out there eventually. You supposed you could lock yourself in here and get a full night’s sleep indoors, even if it was on the floor of a motel bathroom with your back against the door, but part of you just said “fuck it” and warily peeked around the doorway into the bedroom.

The lights in the room were dim, but warm. He was sitting on the end of the bed, one knee tucked into his chest, staring at the tv as the bright colors of a nightly talk show reflected in his eyes, but something told you he wasn’t really watching. His eyes met yours and you froze.

“It’s almost eleven…” He mumbled, his head resting awkwardly on his shoulder. His hand ghosted over the spot on the bed next to him. “… Will... will you stay?”

So many thoughts raced through your head. What would happen if you laid down beside him? You could probably deal with sex… even if it felt a bit wrong. But if he wanted to hurt you?

Your brain reminded you:

What do you really have to lose?

When you told him you would stay, sitting next to him, you could see him relax. Just a bit.

“If you still want to leave-”

But you cut him off, almost afraid he would talk you out of it after you’d made up your mind.

Avoiding his stare, you told him you had nowhere to go.

The bed was cold, it might take a bit to warm up with the two of you in it, but it was the least of your concerns at that moment. 

“So it’s...” He’d spoken up so suddenly, you hoped he didn’t see you flinch. He was staring at the ceiling, seeming just a tiny bit calmer. “... it’s fine if you just… lay there or h-hold onto me, or play on your phone or whatever, anything is fine. Just… just don’t leave ‘til mornin’. Okay?”

A worrying pause, but you told him you understood.

And that was that. He laid next to you unmoving for almost an hour before you had the nerve to move at all, shifting slowly to your side to face him.

His eyes were shut, his breathing even, but somehow you knew he was still awake. It was like he was trying to sleep but it just wasn’t coming to him. He looked so worn down, like he could just keel over any second. It definitely made him less intimidating, but you weren’t letting your guard down, no matter how much your body was screaming at you to just let go.

Despite your better judgement, you wondered if he really was being genuine about this not being a sex thing. It was a relief, sure, but it just raised more questions.

Why were you here?

. . .

You’d stopped looking at the bedside clock a while ago. It had to have been hours by then.

Your anxiety and dread somehow felt quieter under the lull of impending sleep. Despite everything, your body was at least grateful for a warm bed and hot shower, and if you didn’t sleep there now, you didn’t know when you’d be able to sleep somewhere warm any time soon. 

Every moment that ticked by, you felt your resolve slipping. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, just to let go… This whole situation was weird, but you just wanted to sleep.

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

He hoped against everything that he would just fall asleep.

Just this once, he didn’t want to have to follow through with it. But he was so damn tired. There was this ache behind his eyes that he could feel in his bones, his mind never stopped racing… 

He could feel your body heat in the bed next to him. You had either been very scared or very considerate, you’d only moved once since you laid down with him. 

He hated that he had to do this. He felt sorry for you, he really did. But it was drowned out by the buzzing in the back of his brain. The constant whispers in his ear. 

There had been so many before now, it was a miracle he hadn’t gotten caught. But this was a huge, dangerous city. Everyone in it was just a blip to anyone paying attention. 

He could feel their skin under his palms buzzing at the back of his brain. How their eyes stared into his, burning with betrayal, fear, helplessness. How he saw them fade away.

How it was the only thing that worked to let him finally sleep. The only thing that quieted the whispers, at least for a little bit. 

Some booked it after getting the money. Some just showed up and straight-up robbed him. Some tried to leave in the middle of the night, thinking he was asleep. But if they stayed and fell asleep, that was that.

He told himself that he gave them all a chance. 

If you managed to stay up all night, you’d be safe. But he really needed this… It was already day three, and he’d never made it past day five without completely losing it. Trying to fight this, it was too hard. The longer he stayed awake, trying to avoid what had to happen, the worse he felt. The louder the voice got. The deeper the ache in his bones. But the more often he did it, the easier it got. And that was worse in a different way. 

It was wrong. He wasn’t so deep in it that he couldn’t see that. The morning after, he always hated himself and what he did. 

But as the days went on, it would all creep back in. And doing it again felt less and less horrifying to him. 

You were scared. He could tell. And you had every reason to be, he told himself. But it just meant it would take you longer to fall asleep. 

He could wait all night. And if you made it the full seven hours, you weren’t what he needed. You’d be free from him, from this. Hopefully you wouldn’t come back, no matter how badly you needed the money.

He wondered what you meant by having nowhere to go.

But he tried not to wonder too much. It would make this harder. 

He could hear your breathing getting slower, your body relaxing into the bed. You wouldn’t last much longer. 

His eyes shot open when he felt you suddenly touch him, tucking your forehead into his shoulder. You weren’t quite asleep, a cuddler? He almost laughed to himself when half-asleep you looked a bit frustrated, like it wasn’t enough.

You muttered something about being cold, lazily scooting your body closer to him up the bed. He felt his breath catch when suddenly, his head was pulled to you, tucked into your chest as your arm circled him. He was suddenly the little spoon, but facing you. He could hear your heartbeat. 

He wanted to say something, wake you up or wriggle free to make what he had to do easier on you when you fell asleep. He felt a hand in his hair, playing with it and idle gentle nails on his scalp. 

It was… nice. Everything felt calm, the buzzing and horrible thoughts were still there but they were being drowned out by the warmth of your skin, the thump of your heart in his ear.

You were mumbling something. He held his breath, trying to hear.

You told him, or whoever you were dreaming about, maybe even no one at all, that he was okay. That he was safe. 

He couldn’t keep his eyes open. Something was different this time. He felt all his control slipping away, and for once, he wasn’t scared. 

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

You woke to a sunbeam across your face, and the strange man in your arms, sound asleep. According to your phone, it was 10 am. You were grateful for the extra hours in a warm bed, but would he be mad? Did he have somewhere to be?

You couldn’t remember anything past drifting off next to him, but the two of you were tangled together, he seemed so comfortable.

Now that it was over, and your anxieties were much quieter, you really got a good look at the guy. He wasn’t… unattractive, you supposed. He was all elbows and ribs but laying against your chest made him look so soft and harmless. 

Wasn’t the worst way you’d ever made 175 bucks.

You wondered if he’d shell out the extra 100, or if that would be pushing your luck. 

Either way, it would be best to wake him up.

Gently scratching at his scalp, you told him it was getting late.

You watched as his eyes struggled to open, and for a few calm moments, he just laid against you. After a beat, he gasped and jolted up, head swiveling around the room in a panic.

“I…” He seemed really out of it, almost scared. “I actually…”

He stared at you, eyes wide. You told him it was ten in the morning, hoping everything was okay and if it wasn’t, that he wouldn’t take it out on you.

He grabbed you by the shoulders, and for a moment you were sure something bad was going to happen, but somehow, it was even worse.

He was crying.

Breaking down, sobbing hard as he just kept staring at you. Even with the odd night you’d just had, this was somehow the weirdest part. 

Despite yourself, you asked him if he was okay. He pulled himself together and you were startled again when he touched your face, his thumb gently grazing your cheek. It was tender and sweet, and it was freaking you out a little. Just a tad. 

“You… It was you…”

All you could think to ask was if you should get going, maybe trying to make it seem like you had someplace to be, or were at least trying to be considerate of his time. But it didn’t seem like he was taking the hint. 

He grabbed your hands in his, the sudden contact made you jump. He pulled them to his chest, he was too close. The way he was looking at you…

“Can we… Can we do this again? Like tonight? Please?” He was practically begging, the look in his eyes changing. That nervous, achingly tired gaze was hopeful. And so warm.

“You can have the room, if that’s what you need!” he offered, maybe somehow having picked up on your current situation. “I can pay more too. Just p-please…”

He held your palm to his cheek, staring up at you.

“I need you.”

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

a bit of a different one from me, but i kind of liked how it turned out

that feeling when your new yandere was totally gonna off you but you were just too comfy

he's never gonna let you go. you're the only thing keepin him from killing again, ya know?

i don't have a ton of yanderes that actually kill, as odd as that seems. but this guy is one of them

he's not supposed to be a huge commentary on any particular mental health conditions, i did a bit of "research" into psychosis induced insomnia (using that term VERY loosely), but like does he hear voices because he can't sleep, or can he not sleep because he hears voices? who can say? certainly not I, the dummy who made him

i wrote this one pretty much right after my last big deadline ended, but it got reworked a bit cause it just needed some tweaks:

the yandere started out as tired but crass, kind of a dick, and when he switched after that good night's sleep it felt off. It felt more interesting if he was a bit pathetic and creepy, it felt like less of a red flag for the reader to stick around

the reader was originally going to be a straight up s*x worker that got hired by the yandere for him to kill, but it didn't really feel like my place to make that commentary on violence against s*x workers or to more or less soften it with a yandere love interest. it just didn't feel right for something so unserious

but ive been having horrible writer's block lately, so i thought i'd finally put this one out. i need to read/play some yandere stuff and get inspired. let me know if you have any recommendations y'all ✌️

[sodacowboy]

this is your sign to make your bed