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bxnfire · 28 days ago

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Stereo Love

Synopsis: You’re determined to get over Suguru, and Suguru’s determined to never let you. Amongst annual vacations, unresolved tension, and one hell of a view, what could go wrong? Come to Mykonos and find out!

Content/Warnings: MDNI! Smut, p in v, fingering, cunnilingus, blowjob, handjobs, public nudity, m! masturbation, edging, teasing, friends-to-lovers, yearning, soo much tension, mutual pining, fluff, slight angst, vacation, Shoko and Gojo betting on your future.

Wc: 9k

A/N: The images are from pinterest. I can’t take credit for them. Divider creds go to @bronzewasp. Check out other amazing works and the place that inspired me to make this fic here at @lily-bisque’s summer bash collab!

Suguru is many things. A tattoo artist, a music lover, a sweet talker, a witty man, a softie at heart, and for the longest time, perhaps since he drew your favorite flower after your crush rejected you to lift your spirits up back in high school, or was it in middle school when he got your favorite snack after you completely bombed a test? You’ve had the stupidest crush on him. You've loved him for so long, all the memories have become a blur, you can no longer remember when he did what, but what you do remember is that even at the ripe age of 13 Suguru has known how to sweep you off your feet.

Maybe that’s why no one else has ever stood a chance.

You’ve tried. God, have you tried. But every relationship since him has been doomed before it began. They all paled in comparison: too soft, too cocky, too dull. Too not Suguru. And maybe they knew it. Maybe they all saw the look in your eyes when his name popped up on your phone or heard the way your voice changed when you talked about him.

You’ve told yourself you’d get over him. You meant it, too. But then he sends you one of those effortless selfies, or calls you just to hear your voice, or keeps his promise to go on vacation with you every year. And suddenly, all that resolve evaporates like mist off the ocean.

What you don’t realize is that Suguru’s just as far gone as you, maybe worse.

It's stupid really, he has no clue as to why you haven't realized that he has so many memory cards for his digital camera purely because he cannot bring himself to delete anything where you're in. There's so many photos and videos of you just being silly, one of you sleeping on his couch, another of you running away from Satoru after he realized you stole his mochi, even one of you petting a cat on the street.

Unbeknownst to you, you inspire the tattoos he's become so known for, which is quite funny because Suguru fears one day you'll have the bright idea of visiting his shop, he wouldn't know what to do if you noticed your favorite flower on different styles on the walls, your birthday on roman numerals, samples of fonts which say your name, middle name, and/or last name, and in a hidden crook of his studio, your eyes.

It sucks having to miss you so much, since you only see each other once a year, but on the bright side, you also don't get to see the fool you've made of him.

Since college, you knew you'd be apart from each other most of your time, as Suguru pursued his dream of owning his own shop in Tokyo whereas your aspirations took you somewhere else. You both have always been very supportive of each other, but at the same time, you're so stuck on each other that you made a pact to go on vacation for 2 weeks every year, taking turns on choosing the spot, and this year it was Suguru's turn to choose.

📩 Suguuu <3: have you checked your email yet songbird?

📩 my muse: SUGURU SHUT THE FUCK UP

📩 my muse: YOU DID NOT

📩 my muse: MYKONOS?

📩 Suguuu <3: surprise surprise

He marks the days like a countdown, two weeks where he gets to have you close, but never close enough. Where he watches you fall in love with the world and aches knowing you’ll never look at him the same way. It’s his favorite part of the year, and also the hardest. Because no matter how far you go together, he always ends up right where he started: still loving you, still silent, and still too much of a coward to ruin what you've built for so long.

You step off the plane, the salty Mykonos breeze kissing your cheeks, and it hits you: this is going to be dangerous. Not because of the cliffs or the scooters or the cocktails you’ve already mentally committed to drinking by the dozen—but because Suguru looks like that in a white button-up and linen pants. He pushes his sunglasses up his nose and smiles at you with that same familiar softness that’s been ruining your dating life since you were 13.

“This place is already ten times better with you in it,” he says casually, grabbing your suitcase like it’s second nature.

You don’t respond. You can’t. Your brain has momentarily stopped functioning.

Choosing to just giggle as a response to avoid any awkward, mumbled response, you pick up your phone to double-check the address of the hotel you had chosen. It took a while, but you reached an agreement with Suguru: if he paid for the tickets, you would pay for the stay.

Since he had gone all out with the location as was, you decided to level the playing field by choosing a suite with a private pool, big ass beds, and the most beautiful view of the beach.

“Songbird, you sure this is our room?” Suguru asks, curious, but also excited?

“‘Course Sugu, why wouldn’t it be?” You ask oblivious to what he was looking at, too busy contemplating at the pool.

“Well, there’s just one bed, it’s huge, but one bed nonetheless,” he says, his lips curving in a dangerous smile.

“Oh.”

“Oh sounds right.” He chuckled, looking at your mortified expression.

“No wonder the lady who checked us in kept treating us like a couple, and you didn’t even correct her!” You realize, jokingly putting the blame on him.

“Would you have wanted me to?” He asks, his purple hues locking your own.

You didn’t have it in you to respond directly, and the loud beating of your heart wouldn’t have let your mind come up with a good answer anyway, so you just opted for saying, “I could sleep in the hammock?”

“Fuck no.”

“So then?”

“If anyone’s sleeping on a hammock it’s me,” he says in a tone that suggests he won’t be swayed otherwise. “But I was thinking of just sharing the bed instead? It’s big enough, you’d probably need an Uber to get to the other side anyway.”

“Okay dummie,” you giggle, “pillow fort it is.”

“Don’t think you could stay away from me in your sleep? You flatter me,” he teased.

“I really couldn’t, you’re just so humble and handsome,” you play along, trying your damned best to ignore the heat in your cheeks.

“If only you truly meant that,” he mumbled.

“What’d you say?” You ask, not having heard him right.

“That you better not snore, songbird.”

“YOU better not snore,” you replied giggling.

“And if I do?” He asks.

“Then I’d have to do this,” you say, and he stands there clueless as to why you’re moving around in silence. Poor Suguru only remembered you were having this conversation by the pool after you had pushed him in, clothes and all.

As he resurged from the water, he just looks at you and smirks, his snake-bites shining in the bright afternoon. You knew he was up to no good, but you sort of felt guilty for pushing him in, so when he extends his hand towards you, you don’t hesitate to take it. Should’ve known you’d be drenched the next second.

As you swim back to the surface, you’re startled to find Suguru so close to you. It should’ve been obvious; he pulled you in, so of course you’d be close. You’ve been pining for this man for years on end, and every year you tell yourself it’s going to be the last, but when he pulls shit like this it’s easy to forget your top new year’s resolution for the past 12 years: to get over Suguru. But he doesn’t help! It’s not easy to get over your best friend if he’s your dream man incarnated, specially when he looks so fucking good with wet hair and a look of mischief in his eyes, with his lips merely an inch away from yours.

He noticed you staring, and it was driving him insane. It took every bit of his (very strong mind you) resolve to not kiss you right there and then and potentially ruin a friendship of over a decade. So, to stop it from going further he just splashed water at your face and started a water fight. He had hoped he’d be able to contain his feelings until the right time, but seeing as he gets worked up so easily even if you’re not trying to seduce him lets him know it’ll be harder than he thought.

About 2 hours later you both finally stopped trying to get back at each other and decided to go out for dinner. You took an awful long shower, which gave Suguru time to rent a bike for your stay, as he remembered how much you loved to ride it with him back when you were in college.

“Songbird! You done in there or are you trying to pluck all your feathers?” He called out teasingly, he knew how much you hated to be rushed, and he had a dirty little liking for working you up.

“Gentle reminder that I’m not a man and can’t serve without proper preparation,” you yelled back, going back to retouching your makeup.

“I’m not even going to comment on that,” he responds, realizing that you truly didn’t know how beautiful he found you, no makeup or prep at all. He’d love to argue with you about it, but admitting to stroking his fat cock for 2 hours straight after he’d seen you with the tiniest shorts and a sweatshirt (one you stole from him by the way) ready to go to bed a year ago wasn’t probably the best argument. But you couldn’t blame him right? After walking around Berlin he was physically and mentally exhausted, so he couldn’t really think better than to just imagine how nice it would be to get to see you like that every time as you walked to your shared bed before he could rearrange your guts goodnight, it’d make you both sleep better!

He was ready to go down that rabbit hole of a memory, but you snapped him away from his thoughts as you finally walked out of the bathroom with the prettiest dress he’s ever seen. Maybe that’s a vague description of your clothes, but you made everything look fucking great, he started to think you’d even look good with a trash bag.

“Staring much?” You ask, basking in his attention and quiet praise.

“I have every right to have a staring problem too you know,” he replies, referring to your little mishap at the pool.

“Oh shut up.”

He chuckles, and for the pure sake of annoying you, he texts you what he was going to say.

📩 Suguuu <3: come outside

“You do realize I’m right next to you right?”

📩 Suguuu <3: you told me to shut up

📩 Suguuu <3: who am i to say no to you?

“You’re so dumb,” you say as you hurry outside, trying your best to hide your blush from him.

You hear him laugh behind you, and you’re about to keep fighting him when you see a red Kawasaki Ninja, and all of your college memories flooded. You couldn’t conceal your smile as it all came back to you, and he takes this chance to speak up.

“You liking our sweet ride for these next 2 weeks?”

“This is fucking amazing Suguru, thank you,” you say as you look at him with the sweetest smile, and you’ve made him melt once again for this evening.

“Let’s get going then, Mykonos awaits!” And with that, you two go into the night looking for trouble, which in itself was scary to think about because it surely felt dangerous to be on this ride with Suguru, and not because he likes to speed, but because being this close to him, getting to wrap your arms around him and press your head on his shoulder, trying your damned best not to succumb to the intoxicating smell of his, made you wish you were riding him instead.

Unluckily for him, you've failed to notice the raging hard-on he sports every night you've gone out for a ride, he chalks it up to his ability to choose bottoms that make it easier to hide, but it really is just the mere fact that you both end up so flustered after those that you don't look at each other much past stolen glances the first couple of minutes, which gives Suguru the perfect chance to run straight to the bathroom to... decompress!

It’s been 1 week in Mykonos and you’ve both fucking loved it. Apart from all those times you’ve come awfully close to kissing or confessing, and ignoring all the damn tension, it’s been great. You spend your days strolling through markets or landmarks, then come back to the suite to hop in the pool and the end the day by clubbing somewhere, it is Mykonos's whole thing for a reason.

Today was a little different though. You were feeling the impulsivity that could only come from days being away from your reality, being with Suguru, the man that made anything and everything seem possible, and of course, the unspoken agreement of vacation, and even if the saying names Vegas, you're in Mykonos aren't ya?

“We should go to a nude beach today,” you say as you bite your koulouri.

Suguru nearly chokes on his yogurt. “A w-what?” He asks, looking at you with wide eyes.

“A nude beach! Wouldn't it be so liberating? And you know I've always wanted to,” you say with the sweetest smile you can muster, acting as if you wouldn't also be a mess if you saw him naked.

“Well, if there's nothing else you'd rather do,” he gives in, trying to think of what the fuck he'd do if he gets hard, it's already bad always making sure he's up before you to hide his morning wood, but a nude beach? God knows he couldn't even cover it up with both of his hands if he tried.

“Not at all,” you smile as you watch him get up to get ready, “I looove you.”

“Seems like you're trying to kill me,” he says with an honesty you weren't expecting at all.

“How so?” You ask innocently.

“You're gonna be the death of me, remember that.”

Shit, you remember other things too. The other night you two had a little too much wine, and while Suguru is usually suave and calculated when he's sober, when he's drunk you really get to see why him and Satoru are such good friends, it makes you see that they're both fairly unhinged, to put it some way.

Sure, in different ways, but unhinged all the same. At least, that's the best word you could find to describe what it was like to hear from your best friend's pretty lips that he’d eat you alive if you let him.

He said it so casually, so slurred and sweet, like it wasn’t the kind of thing that would replay in your mind every time he looked at you a second too long. Like it wasn’t going to haunt you now, while you’re both about to strip down in public like it’s just another Thursday.

You don’t think he remembers. He laughed right after, laid his head on your lap and started telling you how the stars in Mykonos looked fake, like they were too pretty to be real, just like you. But you remember. You remember everything.

Now, as you stand on a rocky path down to the beach, your sundress fluttering in the breeze and Suguru beside you, trying to act nonchalant while adjusting the strap of his backpack for the fifth time, you feel the tension tighten. Not in a dramatic, movie-scene way—no, it’s worse than that. It’s subtle. Controlled. His silence is louder than any confession.

“I googled it,” you say suddenly, trying to fill the silence. “The beach. Apparently it’s, like, super secluded.”

“Right,” he says, clearing his throat. “Secluded is good. We like secluded.”

You hum in response. “Means no one will see if I trip and fall flat on my ass.”

He chuckles. “But I would see though, that’s more than enough.”

A few minutes later, you reach the sand—white, soft, hot beneath your feet. Suguru sets down your things and stretches, his shirt lifting just enough to expose a sliver of skin and the bottom edge of a tattoo you don’t recognize. Your eyes catch on it a second too long.

“What’s that one?” you ask, pointing to it before you can stop yourself.

He freezes. Then glances down. “Ah. That one’s… new.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Of what?”

He shrugs. “Something that reminds me of you.”

And before you can press further, he takes his shirt of fully and it takes you a moment to register what the fuck you're looking at. As if it wasn't already hard not to stare at his muscular back, slutty waist, and broad shoulders, now you have to deal with looking at all of that and your favorite flower on his lower back.

Yeah, right where your hands are when he lays his head on your lap and wants you to comfort him. And you do so by just hearing him out and caressing his lower back, good to know. Good to know what the tattoo was.

Almost as if he could hear your thoughts, right before that part of his body could be covered up by the water he glanced back at you with a smirk, locking eyes for a second too long. Enough to put you in a trance that didn't even let you realize you had been staring at that damn direction for too fucking long.

“So you dragged me here to just sit by the shore with your clothes on?” He yelled, as he was fairly deep in the water.

“You didn't put up too much of a fight anyway,” you replied.

“Because I thought it would be even humiliation but you're sitting there like a princess while I'm completely naked.”

Before you could even process what you were doing, you took your shirt off, and put up a fucking show for him, it was only fair right? If he had you blushing every other sentence, you could fluster him by letting him see what he's allegedly been wanting to eat.

And fuck, you just made him hungrier after that.

You managed to swim and put the tension behind a barrier, even if it was fragile, and you two found a cove not too far from where your things were at.

The cove is half-shaded, half-glowing with the soft shimmer of the Aegean sun. The rocks cradle the space like it was made just for two idiots in denial, and the water here is calmer, like it knows something’s about to happen.

You float lazily beside him, your arms brushing every so often under the surface. If you didn’t know better, you’d think the ocean was trying to make you touch him on purpose.

“You're quiet,” Suguru says, voice low and a little breathless from the swim.

You shrug. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“That tattoo,” you say without looking at him, even though you can feel him looking at you.

He hums. “Knew you’d notice.”

You flick water at him. “You put it where my hands always are. Kind of hard not to.”

There’s a beat of silence, the kind that fills your lungs heavier than the sea.

“I put it there because that’s where you always are,” he says, so casually you almost miss it.

You blink, heart stuttering. “What?”

But he doesn’t answer. He swims a little closer, hands finding the edge of the rock behind you, his body suddenly close enough to cage you in without touching.

“Can I tell you something?” he murmurs, voice low, unreadable.

You nod.

“I lied the other night. When I said you were gonna be the death of me.”

Your breath hitches. “Oh?”

“I meant to say you already are.”

You can’t decide what happens first, your pulse skyrocketing, your stomach dropping, or the burning desire to kiss him so hard you forget every reason you told yourself you couldn’t.

But his lips are right there, and you’re both naked, half-drenched, and you’re fully ruined for anyone else—and you’re starting to think he might be too.

You swallow hard, not from nerves, but because it’s suddenly too quiet. The air shifts, the world narrows. His hands are still braced behind you, his body close enough that you feel the heat of him through the water, your knees occasionally brushing under the surface, sending jolts straight to your core.

“You can’t just say shit like that,” you whisper, trying to sound unaffected and missing the mark completely.

“Why not?” he murmurs, his eyes searching yours like he’s looking for the line between brave and stupid, safe and honest.

“Because,” you say, voice a little shaky now. “Because I don’t know what you mean.”

He lets out a soft laugh. “Yeah, you do.”

You try to look away, but his voice drags your gaze back.

“I meant it, y’know,” he says. “The tattoo. The flower.”

“Suguru—”

He leans in just slightly, not close enough to touch, but close enough that your heart forgets how to beat properly.

“Every time you touch me there, it grounds me,” he admits, quieter now. “Even when I’m barely holding it together. Even when I want things I shouldn’t.”

Your breath catches. “Things like?”

He doesn’t say it. Instead, he lets the moment stretch.

The sun catches on the water between you. He looks devastating like this—dripping, golden, pupils blown just a little too wide to blame on the sunlight.

But then, as if he senses you need an escape route, he gives you a smirk, tipping his head back and letting the tension almost break.

“You still owe me for dragging me out here alone,” he says, voice back to playful, but his eyes? Still fixed, still dark, still hungry.

“Oh?” you manage, breathless. “And what exactly do I owe you?”

He shrugs, but it’s mocking. “Dunno yet. But I’m sure I’ll think of something by tonight.”

And with that, he pushes off the rock and swims a few feet away, leaving you stewing in the heat he left behind, mouth slightly parted, heart absolutely wrecked.

Coming back to the suite was something else. Sure, it was already bad having to share a bed with the man you've loved for so long, but today was just rough. Your glances seemed to last a little longer, if you walk past each other you're so awfully aware of your skin touching, so much so it feels electric.

For his “get back” he ended up taking you to a club, but this time he had laid out an outfit for you to put on: a cute little purple dress along with some silver heels.

“Suguru what the hell are you planning on doing?” You ask, trying to suppress your giddiness.

“Clubbing,” he says walking into your shared room with his fit on, and to your surprise he was wearing a button-down shirt matching your dress, alongside silver accessories to match your shoes.

He loves watching you dance, you look so happy and carefree, but he'd also be lying if he said that was all there was to it. He loved seeing you flaunt your curves without a care in the world, and even if he knows better than that, he likes to imagine that you're putting up a show just for him. So, why not let the Greeks think that you were his and only his?

“And is there a reason to be matching?” You ask.

“Yeah, it'll be easier to find each other if we're wearing the same color,” he says just to instantly realize how stupid that sounded.

“Like we're on a summer camp?” You giggle.

“Yeah. A summer camp, but now we won't have to give up or phones or try to hide the booze,” he chuckles.

So, you're off to the club. It's not the first time you're clubbing in this trip, but tonight is just different. After learning about his tattoo earlier and being the closest you've ever been to actually kissing him the tension is through the roof, and you'd think a club would be stimulating enough to let your mind focus somewhere else, but something about those colored flashing lights, his easy smile and his luscious hair going everywhere along his moves gave you goosebumps. It surely didn't help that now he was using every excuse to flaunt the tattoo he'd done an amazing job of hiding up until earlier.

The club is alive. Bass thrumming through your chest, lights flashing pink and violet like they’re syncing with your heartbeat. You’ve danced before, plenty of times. But never like this. Never with his eyes on you like this.

You weren’t expecting them to play it — the familiar swirl of ikaeotiotiko rising like smoke through the haze of the night. The DJ must’ve been Greek. Or brave. Either way, the mood shifts, the crowd parting slightly as people start forming loose circles, clapping into the rhythm, shoes sliding against the floor with practiced ease.

You’re mid-laugh when Suguru’s hand slides around your waist.

“Thought you didn’t dance,” you tease, breathless.

“I don’t,” he says, but he doesn’t let go.

The circle opens around you, and somehow you’re pulled in, your hands brushing against others, your body keeping time with the rising tempo. You spin once, then again, feet moving instinctively. The music builds. Quick.

You feel him again before you see him. Suguru at your back, steady and grounded while the world moves in rhythm around you. He doesn't grab you outright, but his hand returns to your waist like muscle memory.

When someone reaches out to join hands with you again, he steps closer.

“She’s with me,” Suguru says. Casual. Almost bored.

But you know better. His voice is strained honey, the smoothness so fake you know it's just trying to feign calm. His fingers tighten at your side, not enough to hurt, but enough to speak volumes.

You move faster. The music demands it. The steps get looser, sweat slicking your skin, your dress hitching a little higher with every spin. You’re glowing with it, the dance, the music, the heat — and you lean back into him, letting your hips graze his.

Suguru doesn’t back away. If anything, he braces you.

“You’re playing with fire,” he murmurs into your ear, the beat thrumming through your chests as one. His mouth is so close to your skin, it feels like a kiss.

You smile without looking at him. “Maybe I like the burn.”

The music’s lifting now — that final run, that fast-breath, foot-stomping energy unique to ikaeotiotiko — and you let go. Let your body trust the rhythm. Let yourself press flush against him as the circle breaks into wild joy. But Suguru? He stays still behind you, like stone, like an anchor, his hand sliding lower now.

“Careful,” he breathes, “If you keep dancing like that, I’ll forget where we are.”

“Then maybe you should.”

That pause, thick with want, thick with years of unsaid things, lingers between you longer than the last note of the song. Even as the music fades and the next track bleeds in, he stays molded to your back. Possessive. Unmoving. Burned in.

You turn your head just enough to glance at him. “Possessive much?”

“Can you blame me?” he says, and it’s so honest, so fast, it makes your pulse skip.

The DJ switches to something darker, deeper. The kind of song that slows the room down and pulls bodies closer. Your hands find his shoulders, his settle on your hips. It’s instinct now.

You shouldn’t be doing this. But you also should’ve stopped a long time ago.

Your noses nearly brush as he leans in like he’s going to say something. But he doesn’t. His gaze flicks down to your lips, then back up.

You can’t breathe.

“Say something,” you whisper, voice almost drowned out by the music.

He swallows hard. “I’m trying really fucking hard not to ruin everything right now.”

The way he says it, so raw and vulnerable, sends your heart crashing into your ribs. You want to ask why not ruin it? what if it’s already ruined? what if we’ve been lying to ourselves this whole damn time? But you’re trying to see if he'll cave in, but unfortunately your patience is dangerously close to boiling over.

So you smile instead. Force a little laugh. “You think dancing with me is going to ruin everything?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head slightly. “Wanting more will.”

At this point you're fucking fed up, the tattoo, the side comments, and now to top it off the fucking possessiveness. Your heart couldn't handle that much.

“Stop playing with me. You keep talking so sweetly to me and I know you're a sweet person but this has gotten so out of hand. You keep saying I'm the death of you, that I calm you in ways no one does, and you just rile me up so fucking much. It hurts Suguru, to have wanted to for so long and to keep wanting you and all you do is play around. Honestly I've kept quiet for the sake of our friendship, but it costs me too fucking much, and I can't take it anymore,” you confess, tears threatening to spill over.

Before you could think logically, you let your pride take over and ran out into the rain because it seemed like a better option than to let the man who's controlled your feelings for so long watch you cry over him.

Your inner turmoil doesn't let you realize that he was chasing you the whole way.

“Y/n wait! Fuck, come here,” he says out of breath.

“Haven't you had enough this past decade? What else do you want from me?!” You ask, looking at him through your tears.

“You didn't let me reply,” he says so easily, as if he wasn't holding you as you broke down, as if you both weren't getting completely drenched by the rain. “I have always loved you. Insanely so. You've always plagued my every thought, been the muse to all the art I've made, the force behind every one of my efforts, my partner in crime, my favorite voice to wake up to, the last person I want to see before I fall asleep.”

His hands cup your face like you might slip away if he doesn’t hold on tight enough, but his touch is gentle. Careful. Like he knows how badly you’ve been hurting and hates himself for being part of it.

“I never said anything because I didn’t want to lose you. Not to distance, not to time, not to something I said too early or too late. I’ve had so many chances, and I ruined every one of them by keeping my mouth shut.”

You’re crying harder now, but you’re not backing away. You're just there, in his hands, trying to catch your breath as his confession keeps unraveling.

“I wanted to say something a hundred times on this trip. I almost kissed you on the bike, when you leaned into me and I forgot how to think. And again on the beach. And at the cove. And right now, I am so close to doing it I can’t even breathe.”

You blink up at him through the rain. “Then do it.”

Suguru pauses just long enough to make sure you mean it, his thumbs brushing your cheeks.

“Please,” you whisper.

And he kisses you like he’s been waiting to. Not careful anymore, not calculated. Just full of every second, every day, every year he’s spent loving you in silence. You melt into him, fingers curling in his shirt, finally holding him like you’ve dreamed of doing a thousand times.

When you part, both of you breathless, soaked, and shaking with adrenaline, he rests his forehead against yours.

“No more waiting,” he murmurs. “I’m yours, okay? I’ve always been yours. I've even got a mark of it.”

You laugh softly. “About time, idiot.”

He grins. “I’ll take that.”

Needless to say, you don't take too long to get on going to the suite. It should've been a quicker trip, but with Suguru slamming you into walls every 5 minutes and kissing you like a man starved it made a 10min walk into a 40min one, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't play into every bit of it.

By the time you make it into your room, your skin is on fire, not even the droplets of water clinging to it can do anything to calm the burning sensation down. It makes you act as though coming in contact with his skin with every inch of yours might ease it, but it only makes it worse.

Suguru’s not holding up any better. Years of longing are pouring out through his lips, tongue, hands, cock, everywhere. He’s all over you, kissing your neck as struggles not to whimper, hands busy trying to take your drenched clothes off as he doesn’t let you an inch away from him while he guides you towards the bed.

“So have you thought about it?” He asks, his lips one inch away from yours as he holds both of your arms above you with just one hand.

“Suguru I haven’t thought of anything that wasn’t you since we got off the plane,” you reply breathlessly.

“I’m talking about my offer, or should I say request?”

“And what would that be?” You reply smiling, kissing his neck, feeling it vibrate as he chuckles.

“That I’d eat you if you’d let me,” he says, eyes now fully locked on yours.

“YOU REMEMBER THAT?” You ask startled, fully convinced you were the only one who kept that night alive through your memory.

“I remember everything songbird, so well that I don’t recall there being an answer.” He pauses just to look at you, and as he inches close enough where you can feel his breath on your lips he speaks up again. “So, can I?”

You don’t feel like replying verbally, so you opted for smashing your lips into his. Kissing him felt so right, far above the feeling you got from anyone else even fucking you. This kiss alone made you wish he took all of your firsts, and with how nervous he’s making you, it almost feels like you’re a virgin again. Close enough right?

He understood perfectly. His hands started going south, roaming through your abdomen and navel, getting a feel of all the skin he’s only ever allowed himself to look at. As he tries to stop his mind from going overdrive so he can please you the way he’s always dreamed of, he places wet kisses from your neck to your collarbone, sneaking in some bites and hickeys to pave down his newfound territory.

“F-fuck Suguru,” you moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“That’s it songbird, don’t hold back. You’ve starved me long enough,” he says as he finally reaches your breasts. He takes one into his mouth, outlining your sensitive nub, as he moves one of his hands towards your other breast, taking your nipple between his thumb and index finger, rotating it back and forth, the pressure and friction taking your soul out your body.

You feel yourself grinding into him, and he’s so big. So damn big, it’s obscene to even look at the tent in his pants, and you’re insatiable. You’re grinding on his drenched boxers, whether there was more moisture from your own dripping cunt or the pouring rain you didn’t know, but it doesn’t matter because either way it makes the fabric cling to him so deliciously, and it made your back and forth motion so much better.

Every roll of your hips sends a jolt through him, his grip tightening on your waist like he’s afraid you’ll vanish. You hear his breath catch, low and sharp, just before he mutters something guttural against your skin — something you can’t even catch, but it makes your thighs tremble.

Somehow, he gets harder, and you feel his cock pulsate through the thin layer of cloth between you. You whimper loud, and he takes that as encouragement to keep roaming further. His hand finds its way to your wet cunt and starts taping it, quick enough to make you ache for him but not hard enough to ease your want.

“Are you really fucking teasing me after making me wait years for this moment?” You manage to get out, so overwhelmed by your physical state and emotions.

“If anything you kept me waiting this long, and for that fact alone I should be given a reward don’t you think? I want it to last forever,” he breathed out before circling your entrance, toying with your dripping pussy as you arched your back for him.

“S-sugu,” you moaned, desperate for more.

Your plea — that broken little whisper of his name — makes something primal flash in his eyes. Suguru’s jaw flexes, and his breath stutters against your neck as he finally presses two fingers against your folds, sliding them through the mess you’ve made of yourself. He’s slow, deliberate, like he’s savoring every second of having you this way: spread out, soaking, and absolutely wrecked just from the friction and his mouth.

“You’ve got no idea how many times I’ve thought about this,�� he growls, voice ragged. “You, desperate like this… begging me. Needing me.”

You can’t think. Can’t speak. Every nerve ending in your body is screaming for more, but he’s still just barely touching you, the pads of his fingers brushing your entrance, teasing you open but never pushing in. He knows exactly what he’s doing. It’s cruel.

“Then stop thinking,” you gasp, hips rocking up into his hand. “Just do it.”

He chuckles, low and dangerous. “So bossy when you’re this fucked out.”

And just when you’re about to snap — right on the verge of clawing at his shoulders and dragging him under you — he finally slides his fingers inside, slow and deep. It steals the air from your lungs, and your body tightens around him like he belongs there, like you’ve been waiting your whole life for this.

“I told you I’d make it worth the wait,” he whispers, his lips brushing your ear as he curls his fingers just right. “Now be a good girl and take it.”

Even if it's just 2 fingers it takes you to a whole other world. Suguru has always had a sixth sense for what you need and desire, and it doesn't surprise you that it translated over to bed. It takes him less than 30 seconds to find your sweet spot, and once he realized it he abuses it so deliciously.

"K-keep going Suguru," you breathe.

"That's my girl," he says as he keeps working you up. He loves to be in control, and he does it almost well enough that he's rutting into the bed, trying to find the friction you were giving him earlier in the mattress, and he thinks you wouldn't notice... but you did.

You don't know where you find the strength, but you manage to flip you guys over so you're on top of him now, and you're feeling like returning the favor. So before he can even guess what you're about to do, you take the hand he was just fingering you with and suck your slick off his fingers, then you take your tongue out and start dragging it from his chest all the way down to his waist without taking your eyes away from his, as he watches you hungrily through lidded eyes.

You waste no time in putting your hands to work, so fucking slowly. You drag your fingertips down his torso like you’re tracing a path you already know by heart — over the hard planes of his stomach, the twitch of his hips when you get too close, then back up just to hear the frustration in his breath.

“You’re really gonna tease me now?” he mutters.

You don’t answer, just smirk, letting your lips follow the trail your tongue blazed moments ago. Every inch of him tastes like salt and rain and something only he could ever smell like, so familiar and addictive.

When you finally reach the waistband of his boxers, you pause. Just enough to make him twitch. Just enough to watch the way his jaw tightens.

You glance up at him through your lashes. “If I kept you waiting all this time, don’t you think I should take my time making it up to you?”

He lets out a strangled groan, and his hand flies up like he’s going to grab something, but then he stops himself. Lets you stay in control.

That alone makes you ache.

You press a kiss right below his navel, slow and intentional. Then you hook your fingers into the waistband and drag it down, inch by agonizing inch, until he’s fully exposed and twitching against his stomach.

“Fuck,” he hisses, voice cracking as you wrap your fingers around the base of him, your thumb brushing the bead of precum at the tip.

You lean in, mouth barely grazing him, breath hot and teasing. “I want to see how much you can take before you lose it.”

"You're signing up for a long night then Songbird," he says, not even bothering trying to conceal how worked up he is.

Your adrenaline is going overdrive, and even as you’re trying your damned best to get it together to put on one hell of a show, your resolve is crumbling quicker than you’d like it to. You’re toying with his cock so painfully, licking his tip as you stroke him with one hand and cup his balls with the other, allowing yourself to revel on how hot, moist his dick is, and above all, how delicious his veins feel on your palm alone. If it was intoxicating here how bad was it going to be when he was actually inside you?

“S-shit,” he pants, giving in to the pleasure.

You wanted to keep him waiting, but his honeyed voice sounded so pretty breaking down for you, you decided you’d give him a reward! Instead of continuing to tease him, you actually took him in your mouth, and it was a delight to both of you. Feeling him twitch and keep leaking in your mouth made your cunt impossibly wetter, but you tried not to pay that much mind to focus on your task.

Having one hand free now, you opted for using it to caress your favorite flower inked on his back, the gesture making him buck violently into your mouth. You gagged, but that only made him more eager to take you. It truly didn’t take you much to turn your “reward” into further torture, the funniest part is that you didn’t realize it at all.

“This is g-gonna be so f-fucking embarrassing for me if I l-let you keep going,” he moans out. “Let me t-taste you instead.”

You intended on continuing sucking him off, but he pulled that same stunt you did, so you found yourself on your back once again at his mercy, and the glint in his purple hues told you you were going to get ruined for everyone else, now in a whole different area.

He dove right in your pussy as if you were the only oasis in the desert he had walked on for days. He was nothing short of calculated and intentional, but only Suguru could be those things while at the same time being desperate and so fucking hungry. He was lapping at your cunt as his nose pressed on your clit, the pressure making you cry out in pleasure.

“Suguru! F-fuck, don’t stop,” you moan.

He chuckles and the vibrations go straight to your core.

“Since you’re being so good for me, and taste so fucking delicious, I’ll give you a little gift,” he says, taking his tongue out your cunt just to softly blow on it, making you shiver, then put it around your clit and get his fingers back in it again.

To say you’re moaning would be quite offensive. You were screaming at this point, certain that everyone on the hill could hear Suguru’s name being yelled at the top of your lungs. Even taking all of this into account you were holding it up quite well, his skilled tongue along with his fingers at the same time is no fucking joke, adding on to the fact that your body’s been waiting for this for years.

And in just a moment you start feeling it, that pressure begging to be released pooling inside of you, and he feels it too, he knows he’s driving you to the edge.

“You want to cum pretty?” He asks mockingly, as if it wasn’t tearing him apart as much as it did you.

You nod frantically, unable to form a coherent sentence in the state he’s put you in.

“Shit baby, I can’t hear you. Guess you can wait a little hmm? You’ll get another chance to cum, don’t worry.” The fucker smiled as he said that repositioning himself so that he was centered right at your entrance.

Testing your patience, he started dragging his hard length through your folds back and forth, driving you both insane by feeling your cunt up with just his leaky, pretty red tip, overstimulated beyond belief with such brief touches.

“Always knew you were quite the tease but didn’t know you were a masochist Sugu,” you said impatiently, wondering just what you’d have to do to get him to put it in already.

“You really don’t know me at all, but don’t worry, you will soon enough,” he says, and before you can answer he goes balls deep in only one thrust, making you scream out his name once again at the sudden (but not unwelcome) intrusion.

“You feel so fucking good,” he says breathlessly, locking eyes with you as he locks you in a mating press.

You feel him hit all of your sweet spots without fail, as if he had mapped you out long before he even got to this point, all his thrusts erratic but never unintentional, he was determined to make sure you lost your mind just as much as him.

You can’t breathe, can’t think, the stretch of him inside you is overwhelming — thick, deep, perfect — and all you can do is hold on as he fucks you like he’s trying to brand himself into your cervix.

Your legs are folded tight to your chest, and he’s so deep it feels like he’s rearranging you. Every slam of his hips makes you cry out, makes your body arch against him, and when his fingers find your clit, rubbing tight and fast, and your vision blurs.

“S-Sugu, f-fuck! I-I,” you don’t even know what you’re trying to say. You can’t get it out.

“I know, baby. I know,” he groans, forehead pressed to yours, his pace somehow rougher and sweeter all at once. “Let go for me.”

And it’s all you need.

You shatter.

The orgasm tears through you like lightning, loud and blinding, your whole body trembling as you clutch at his shoulders like he’s the only thing keeping you grounded. And he doesn’t stop; he keeps moving through it, keeps dragging every last drop of pleasure out of you until you’re gasping for air and moaning into his mouth.

“Fuck— you’re squeezing me so tight,” he chokes, hips stuttering now, losing rhythm, chasing his own end.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down into a kiss, sloppy and desperate, as he finally lets go, burying himself deep with a guttural moan and spilling inside you in thick, pulsing waves.

For a moment, everything’s still. Just the sound of your uneven breaths, the weight of him on you, the rain still faintly tapping against the window outside.

Then he exhales a laugh, soft and wrecked, nuzzling into your neck.

“Guess we made up for lost time, huh?”

You smile, still dazed. “You think that was making up for it?”

His eyes flicker open, dark and gleaming.

“Right. Round two, then.”

And with that, it is safe to say you did not get any sleep that night.

The rays of the sun woke you up, and as your eyes adjusted to the lighting, you took a look at your surroundings, delighted to find you and Sugu’s body tangled up to the point where you couldn’t tell when your body ended and his started. You felt him flutter awake too, looking up at you with the most lovesick smile you’ve seen in all your life.

“You sleep good Songbird?” He asks in his raspy morning voice, sounding so fucking sexy.

“Best sleep I’ve had in years. You?”

“I think I’m doomed,” he confesses, as he grabs a strand of your hair to play with it.

“What do you mean?” You ask, growing concerned.

“I doubt that after tonight there is a way I’ll be able to get any sleep without you by my side,” he declares, so easily, as if he wasn’t accelerating your heartbeat with merely some words.

“You’re so silly,” you giggle, relaxing at his cheesy confession.

“I’m just being honest,” he says, caressing your face. “Can you promise me something?”

“Anything,” you say, feeling how much you mean it.

“Can we please keep this going outside of Mykonos? I know I may have rushed it, but believe me when I say I meant every word I said out in the rain. I don’t want us to be a hook up, just a vacation thing. I genuinely want to wake up like this every day, getting to see your beautiful face and hearing your voice first thing in the morning. It would kill me to have done this and to go back and pretend like you’re not the love of my life and like I haven’t realized it yet,” he says without missing a single beat.

You reach up and place your hand over his, the one still cradling your cheek with such gentleness you know he means every word he just said.

“I don’t want to pretend either,” you whisper, voice barely steady. “I want this… all of it. You.”

The smile that spreads across his face is slow and devastating, the kind of smile that says finally.

“Good,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Then it’s settled. Mykonos was just the start.”

You nod, melting into his chest as he pulls you in tighter, the warmth of his body grounding you even as your heart soars.

And as the Aegean sunlight filters through the curtains and the sea murmurs softly outside, you fall asleep once again wrapped in his arms — no longer wondering what comes next, but knowing that whatever it is, you’ll be in it together.

Meanwhile, somewhere in Tokyo there are two close friends of yours arguing, which isn't surprising, but to think that it was about the two of you made it hilarious.

“Shoko I'm telling you, I know Suguru better than anyone, that fucker will keep pining after her like a lovesick ghost. You said the same thing about their trip to Berlin last year, why do you think this one would be any different?” Satoru asks, getting into yet another bet he fully expects to win.

“Because I just feel it, nothing screams more romance than a getaway at Mykonos of all places. Besides, this is the first trip where they've only had one bed to sleep in,” she explains, believing more and more in her conclusions as she gets the words out.

“Not buying it. It would take a life or death situation for him to cave in,” he says stubbornly. “But since you're so certain, it wouldn't hurt to bet on it, right?”

“You have no problem in reminding how little you care about your money huh?” She says, more than willing to give in once again, her pride taking over her better judgement.

“Just recognizing an opportunity when I see it,” he shrugs.

“Fine, ¥14,450 they'll come back a couple.”

“You're so on Shoko,” he says, grinning as they shake hands.

Needless to say, after you two came back and had diner with those two to update them on all, Satoru not only lost his ¥14,450, but also his pride, especially when Suguru kissed you right in front of them like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Shoko sipped her drink smugly. “Told you. Mykonos equals love.”

Satoru groaned dramatically, slumping back in his chair. “Unbelievable. All it took was Mediterranean air and a single bed? You folded faster than Go Fish.”

Suguru just smirked, arm lazily draped around your shoulders. “You won't understand me until you're in my spot, Satoru.”

“You shut your traitor mouth,” Satoru muttered, pushing his plate away like the betrayal had ruined his appetite.

“You’re just mad because you lost,” you grinned.

“I’m mad because now I owe her money and I know she'll spend it on some wine she won't even share,” he said, gesturing to Shoko, who just raised her glass in victory.

“Correct,” she said. “And it’ll be imported.”

The night ended with Satoru dramatically Venmoing Shoko under the transaction label “This won't happen again.”

And you? You leaned against Suguru’s shoulder, already planning the next trip — two tickets, one bed, and no intentions of ever holding back.

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk #bxnfire #fluff #suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto #mutual pining #pining #friends to lovers #𓍯𓂃 bisque's summer bash collab #geto smut #geto fluff #geto yearning #teasing #yearning #geto x reader

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happy74827 · 1 year ago

Text

Joyride

[Wade Wilson x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Remember kids, always look at the road when driving. It can help you avoid certain blabber mouths 🫶

WC: 2556

Category: Fluff, Annoying!Deadpool, 4th Wall Breaks, Insane Amounts of Profanity {TW: Deadpool (for obvious reasons)}

In honor of watching Deadpool 3 (super good btw), enjoy this random chaotic fic I created with the help of @yoursacredqueenmother. This is super chaotic lmfao

『••✎••』

Shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT.

A millisecond ago, you were driving down a street. In the middle of traffic. At a red light. Now, you were panicking, looking over the front of your car for the flash of red you had just seen. It took a couple of seconds for you to realize that there was blood on your car and on the ground—a lot of blood.

"Oh, shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!"

You quickly hopped out of the car, rushing to the spot you thought the person… or thing would be, but… there was nobody. There was blood on the ground but nobody.

Did you hit a deer, and it just… ran off? No, that can't be right. You definitely saw something red, and it most certainly was not a deer.

You looked around, confused. How the hell does something bleed all over the ground and then disappear without a trace?!

You got back in your car, deciding to drive to the closest police station. Maybe they knew something about this.

So, you decided to abandon the shortcut home and drive to the nearest police station, which happened to be just down the road. But as you were minutes into the drive, you felt the sudden urge to look in your rearview mirror.

And there you found your mysterious red-suited victim in the backseat, holding the biggest knife you have ever seen as his white-covered eyes stared at you from behind the mask.

You never hit the brakes faster in your life. The car made an ugly screeching sound, and the sudden force slammed the red-clad man into the back of your seat, making him let out a surprised yelp.

The car finally came to a stop, and the masked man recovered quickly, pushing himself off of your seat and glaring at you.

"Well, aren’t you just a heart break—"

He didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence.

You grabbed your keys from the ignition and popped off the attached pepper spray, turning around and squirting him in the face. He let out a scream, and you quickly got out of the car, shutting the door and running as fast as you could.

Unfortunately, you didn’t get very far. Despite being hit by a car, and subsequently getting pepper sprayed, the man (or what you assume to be) caught up with you and blocked your path, his hands on his hips, his head cocked to the side.

"Alright, lady, what the fuck?" He asked, his voice sounding nasally, most likely because of the spray.

You stared at him, confused. He looked like he was waiting for an explanation.

"W-What the fuck?! What the fuck me? What the fuck you!" You exclaimed, your voice cracking a little. "What the fuck are you doing in my car?!"

"Well, I was trying to hitch a ride! But clearly, that didn't work out. Thanks a lot, by the way, for the pain and suffering. You’ve really opened up my horizons here."

It almost sounded like he was pouting.

"What the—! A ride?! Why in the hell would you just hop into someone's car?!"

"Uhh, because you ran me over, genius! I mean, come on, the least you could do is offer a guy a ride home after that. And then, the cherry on top of the fucking sundae: pepper spray!"

The masked man, so to speak, threw his arms up in the air, and you could almost see him rolling his eyes underneath the mask. Of course, that’s when you noticed the obvious broken bones in his hands. And the blood. There was a lot of blood.

"Look," the guy started, walking closer to you. "I know, I'm a big scary guy with a big scary knife and a bad temper and all, and you’re just… well, I’m sure you have an amazing personality, but how about we put all that aside, and you give me a ride, alright? Just drop me off at the corner of 10th and 55th, and you can forget this ever happened."

"Your arm… your wrist. It's broken," you told him.

"Yeah, no shit," the man scoffed. "Got any Taylor Swift CDs in that car?"

"Uh… no, not really. Why?"

"Cause, baby, I’m Shaking It Off!"

There was a pregnant pause, and you weren't quite sure if he was being serious or not. I mean, surely he wasn’t about to just ignore the fact that his arm was the complete opposite of norm—

But when he shook his arm in a violent manner, and a loud crack followed suit, you realized, with a heavy heart, that yes, this guy was serious.

What you didn’t know until a few seconds later, however, was that he snapped his bones back into place like it was nothing. It took the flexing in his fingers to realize it, too.

"Holy shit." You truly were in awe.

He seemed to find amusement in your expression, tilting his head slightly and giving you a once-over. And, yes, you could feel his eyes on you, and for some reason, it sent a shiver down your spine.

"So… Wendy Torrance, about that ride? Can you give me a lift, or are we gonna start that chick flick moment where your mental breakdown leads to slow-motion running to a Sia song?"

You could only stare.

"Alright, well, if you're going through with the latter, then at least play something that doesn’t involve that little dancing girl who likes to wear potato sacks as clothes."

You couldn’t believe this was happening.

"You are literally insane." You breathed out, shaking your head.

Even if you couldn’t see it, something told you that he made the biggest grin underneath his mask.

"Why, thank you, darling."

Fast forward a couple of minutes, and you found yourself driving towards the address the red-suited stranger had given you. You couldn’t really make conversation. He had his hands in his lap, playing with a knife, and was staring at you, his head tilted.

"You can blink, you know. I'm not a zombie," he informed you, making a gesture to his mask and eyes, which you assumed he was blinking underneath.

"Right," you nodded.

“Well, mostly, at least. I mean, I still have a pulse, but it's kind of irregular, and I think it's because I keep getting shot and stabbed in the heart. Oh, and I guess I'm also pretty much immortal, so that's probably the reason. But I think the whole not-dying thing cancels out the heartbeat thing, right? Like, the more times you get impaled or decapitated or set on fire, the more it doesn’t matter because it doesn’t affect you anymore, am I right?"

You glanced at him. He was staring at you, his hands still and his knife resting on his leg.

"…Do you ever shut up?"

"Woah-hoho, feisty. And here I thought I was going to break the ice with a good ol' fashioned knock knock joke."

"I don’t think that would've been funny."

"That's what the last girl said."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm. Except she wasn’t talking about the joke. I made her laugh in a different way."

You glanced at him again, and he was giving you a knowing look.

"I can't decide if you're disgusting or not."

He hummed, shrugging his shoulders. That made him shut his mouth just long enough for you to turn on the radio but not long enough to avoid the inevitable.

"Hey, hey, I got a good one: Knock knock."

You let out a long sigh, closing your eyes. "Who's there?"

"Orange."

"Orange, who?"

"Orange you glad I'm not a serial killer?"

"That wasn’t even good."

"I know. It would've been better if I could've pulled the knife out of my belt. You know, just for show." He twiddled his fingers at you.

"That wouldn’t have helped," you said.

"Nope," he agreed. "But it would've made a great story."

"I suppose."

"Yeah. Hey, hey, I got another one: Knock knock."

"You just—"

"Knock knock."

You let out a huff. This man was the most childish, annoying, idiotic, strange, weird—

"Knock knock."

"Oh, just fucking tell me the joke!"

"No! It doesn't work that way!"

You rolled your eyes, but before you could answer, he beat you to it.

"Okay, okay, how about this: Knock knock."

You didn't say anything.

"Knock knock."

Your eyes flickered over to him for a second.

"Knock knock."

"For fucks sake!" You exclaimed. "Who's there?"

He leaned forward, closer to you, and you could see his mouth moving.

"Deadpool."

You were confused.

"D-Deadpool? Is this a reference to that shitty horror movie? If so, that wasn't even good, and I'm not laughing, and I don't get the joke."

He just gave you a blank look, or at least you thought he did.

"No. My name's Deadpool."

"That’s…" you trailed off. "A pretty dumb name. Like that outfit you're wearing."

"Hey! Diss the name all you want, but don’t you dare diss the suit. It's my trademark. Not everyone can pull off this type of look; it’s a very rare art."

"Whatever. You still haven't told me the punch line to your dumb joke."

"Punch line? I never said there was a punch line. It was a knock knock joke."

"So then… What was the point? To annoy the driver into wanting to run you over again?"

He chuckled, a low, deep sound that vibrated in his throat. That… That was… oh.

He was still close, and now, with the new angle, you could see the small, yet very visible, curve of his lips, and that made you wonder who was actually hiding behind the mask.

"You are seriously the strangest person I've ever met."

"Oh, babe, you don't even know the half of it."

"Please, enlighten me," you replied sarcastically, glancing over at him.

His masked eyes looked into yours, and you knew he was grinning; you could practically feel it.

"What do you wanna know?" He asked.

"Uh, I don't know. Something other than the fact that you're a nutcase. How about your real name? It's obviously not 'Deadpool,' and I doubt anyone actually calls you that. So, what's your actual name?"

"Oh, wow. Right off the bat, huh? You know, the last girl I was with wasn’t nearly as direct. Then again, she never sprayed me like I was a roach in her kitchen."

You didn’t respond. You kept your eyes on the road.

"Fine," he relented. "But don’t expect a happy ending. This isn’t Kanas anymore, Toto."

He leaned back in his seat, his arm hanging off the open window, the wind blowing through his red suit.

"Names Wade, like the boxers, but without the fancy pants."

You raised an eyebrow.

"Wade Winston Wilson, I love long walks on the beach, and a good movie, and tacos, and chimichangas, and guns. Especially guns. Kinky, but not too kinky… and did I mention the tacos? Cause I love fucking love tacos."

Maybe you should start carrying tape around.

"What about you, sugar lips?" He asked, gesturing to you with the hand he wasn’t leaning against. "Got a name, or can I call you mine? Ooh, I should’ve used that before the pepper spray. 'What's your name, or can I call you mine?' Classic, Wade. Well, except for the fact that I forgot the 'I'd like to hit it from the back' part. Damn, should have used that, too. It's a good thing they gave you the lead. Otherwise, the audience would've been confused. They would've been wondering, 'Why did the writer suddenly change the dialogue to be about sex? Wasn’t this supposed to be that pure Notebook love story we all wanted?'"

He paused for a moment.

"Wait a minute. Are we still doing the monologue thing, or is the writer done? Cause, no offense, but that was a shitty transition. And, come on, no one wants a Notebook love story anymore. Who writes those? What we need is a little romance and a whole lotta smut."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Me? Nothing, just giving some feedback. I've always had an open relationship with writers. Some might even call me the next J.K Rowling. Except, instead of a lighting scar and magic, I have an ass load of weapons with an insatiable lust for violence and blood. And tacos."

You decided to ignore him.

"Anyway, back to you. You never answered my question. Do you have a name or not?"

"I can’t believe I actually agreed to give you a ride home."

"Yeah," he said, sounding bored. "Why did you do that?"

"I don’t know. Because I hit you with my car and felt bad? You had a broken arm and were bleeding out all over the ground."

"First sign of insanity."

"What?"

"Nothing," his mask wiggled around the area of his eyebrows. "So, your name? Don’t tell me you’re gonna pull out the classic yes and no abbreviations. You know what? I’m just gonna call you Spidey. It's easier, and it’ll sound sexier when you're screaming it later."

You rolled your eyes, deciding just to ignore his comments for the rest of the drive. You were wishing that you didn't live in a city full of traffic cause, damn, this was taking a while.

"Alright, turn here."

You followed the directions and pulled up in front of an abandoned-looking building. You didn't say anything, but you did raise an eyebrow in question.

"What? A guy like me has to keep his place secret, especially when the fangirls are after him."

"I didn’t ask."

"Yeah, but I saw you wondering."

"Right."

"Hey, Spidey," he said, unbuckling his seat belt. "Thanks for the ride."

"No problem. Just make sure to keep your ass away from car bumpers. And out of my car."

"Awe, come on, baby cakes, don't be like that. You're really missing out. My ass is the finest in the business. Not to mention my package. You should see the reviews I get online."

You snorted. "I'll take your word for it."

"Yeah, you will," he said, leaning over and patting your cheek. "Hey, if you ever get lonely, or bored, or horny, or whatever, just give me a call. Here," he handed you a crumpled piece of paper. "Don't lose it, that's my number. We should totally bang, like, tomorrow, or tonight, or right now."

"Goodbye, Wade," you said, and he took it as his cue to leave. He gave a silly salute and exited the car, but not without giving you a wink first.

"See you soon, Spidey!"

With that, he walked up to the building and disappeared inside. With a sigh, you collapsed into the seat, not even bothering to watch him. You were exhausted, and all you wanted was to go home and sleep.

After a couple of minutes of relishing the nice breeze that came through the open windows, you sat up and un-crinkled the paper.

The only thing written on it was a phone number, with a small, messy, red heart and a few words that honestly had you questioning the sanity of the world:

'If you're lucky, maybe I'll even let you top. ;)'

——

Spoiler alert: it took about a month for the two of you to hook up.

And no, you did not have Domino’s luck.

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lily-bisque · 1 month ago

Text

ＷＡＹＯＵＴＴＨＥＲＥ 𖠰 ⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧🪵𓇢𓆸

volume five — todo a su tiempo

✦ ── pairing: lumberjack!sukuna x citygirl!reader

✦ ── synopsis: taking a hike, alone, in a massive forest to escape your mundane life may not have been the greatest idea you'd conjured up—a realization you'd come to soon after you managed to lose your map miles inland. but when a lumberjack who knows the land like the back of his hand offers you a place to stay, you think maybe your life isn't so tragic after all. besides, for the sake of your safety, who knows what lingers in the shadows after nightfall?

✦ ── contents: lost in the forest au, forced proximity, bantering, angst, trauma/torture aspects, minor injuries, eventual romance, eventual smut, no use of y/n, more tags to be added.

✦ ── a/n: all of the comments and feedback i've received so far has been absolutely amazing, it always encourages me to plow through volumes! i appreciate and love all of you <3

✦ ── word count: 4.9k

archive ─ playlist

series masterlist - previous volume - volume six

art by outdmilk on twt

The following days you could only describe were bliss.

Sukuna and you had established a set—yet, unspoken—routine. You’d wake up, hop to the kitchen, and get breakfast started.

He’d disappear into the bathroom, hacking up a storm with his toothbrush and shuffle into work clothes.

You’d learned how he’d dress his eggs, that he only drank his coffee black which you scowled at upon discovery, and which mug he liked to sip from.

You even started packing him a lunch—which he called unnecessary every single time despite never turning it down.

You got comfortable in the clothing he’d bought you, despite having no sensitivity for fashion outside of red flannels and blue jeans.

If he wasn’t going to accept payment in the form of a wire transfer, you were going to ensure that you were going to pay him back through duties despite still being incredibly indebted to him.

He was a jerk, but a jerk who saved your life.

You dusted off his entire CD collection, reorganized his dining sets after polishing them, and scrubbed his tiles until they shined.

Twice.

From what you could puzzle together, it seemed that he worked down at a sawmill and treaded down the hill to reach his pick-up before heading into work. The extra lumber he’d chop on occasion, he’d leave in a lump come winter time when it’d be too cold to stand outside for long periods of time.

You’d bothered him quite a bit the next day about putting up a clothesline out back, which he found irksome but completed nonetheless that evening, along with fixing the dryer.

You thus called the clothesline useless if he was just going to fix the dryer and he flicked your forehead.

He’d hammer you about checking your bandages and curse you out when you’d forget, and you’d raid his book collection and sit beneath a tree to pass time.

Uraume was quite the companion—plopping on you to rub their mud-covered mane to which you’d giggle at.

You’d both fall asleep beneath the haze of the afternoon heat that hung sweetly in the air. Days were old, nights were young. You’d tan your shoulders, haunted by the melancholy of youth. The sky felt bigger than everything.

You’d scoop yourself three helpings of ice cream that’d dribble down your hand, Uraume lapping it up when it’d muddled around your palm.

The rusted windchimes on the patio became your favorite noise.

Nothing made sense except your virtue for stillness. You knew nothing was okay, but it felt otherwise.

You occasionally found yourself lurking near the shed, toying with the lock and peering between the slivers of cracked wood, but it was completely black inside—further frustrating your curiosity.

You’d argue with Sukuna every here and then—bickering about who’d tracked dirt in, when you’d use all the hot water before he had the chance to shower, or Sukuna telling you that you’d talked too much when you’d feel restless after being cooped up all day, your only friend Uraume who wasn’t of much help since they couldn’t actually speak back to you.

Sukuna was mean but he was sufferable.

“You ever try a root beer float?”

You had your hand resting on the side of his TV, giving it a couple of smacks to get rid of the static. Thankfully he had cable but you could tell he rarely used the old box. “Who hasn’t?”

He grunted at your bluntness, pulling a beer can from the fridge along with a pint of vanilla ice cream. “How about a root beer float with beer?”

You turned to frown at him, obviously not excited at the mixture of ale and milk. “That sounds disgusting.”

“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it, city girl.”

𖠰 ⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧🪵𓇢𓆸

“Where on Earth did you learn this?”

You shoved an orange plastic straw into your mason jar that was both foamy from the sprite and beer can you’d dumped in along with a hefty scoop of ice cream.

You were yet to be sick of ice cream.

You swirled your straw, eyeing it suspiciously as Sukuna had already spooned half of it down.

“Lots of free time,” he smirked, a line of frothy ice cream above his upper lip.

You grimaced, tossing a napkin at him and taking a sip.

You were a little pissed off that you liked it.

“Aren’t these called dirty root beer floats?” You quirked with an emphasis, metal spoon churning the thick cream. You pulled your knee up to your chest, resting your chin against the cap.

He shrugged, adjusting in his seat and reaching a long armover to the fridge. He propped it open, grabbing himself yet another can of beer to guzzle down.

You could only watch in awe at his bottomless pit of a stomach.

Pushing away your glass, you folded your arms over your knee and leaned forward. “Are you an orphan?”

He side-eyed you mid-sip, surprised at your sudden and blunt inquiry, bringing the can down just to crush it with his hand. “What’s it to you?”

You tilted your head, before retreating. “Nothing. Just curious.”

“Stop poking your nose where it ain’t belong,” he scoffed, pushing up from his seat and tossing the mutilated can into the sink.

Your nose scrunched, knowing you’d yet again managed to cross unmarked territory. Your time here was short, and though Sukuna simply seemed to be a hostile and reticent guy, you felt like there was more to him somehow. It was naive to think he’d care to express it, though. You don’t think you’ve ever met anyone more closed off than him.

There was something stewing beneath the surface of his hardened demeanor you couldn’t place.

But that was coming from a woman with forever bubbling emotions that seemed to simmer indefinitely.

You hated small talk—you’d never been able to stomach it. The feigned smiles and comments about weather or formal confabulation. You’d sworn against it after your divorce, severing most ties with a family that indulged in table talk and pleasantries.

His footfalls disappeared into his room and you huffed, peering out the window and feeling a sense of frustration, a moon-struck madness cast upon you.

Until he returned to the kitchen just moments later, a box in his hand that you’d become quite familiar with.

He got to one knee before you, resting your foot atop his muscled thigh as he undressed your ankle.

You pretended not to twitch when his calloused fingers grazed your bare skin, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You didn’t know an ankle could be so ticklish.

“My parents,” he started, nearly mumbling under his breath. “Killed a real long time ago.”

You quirked a brow, something you couldn’t decipher lurching in your chest as you shuffled in your seat.

“Joined the army with my brother. Half-brother. We got into some argument, way back, n’ I haven’t seen him since. Just left him on some mission and never turned back.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, watching Sukuna’s hands still near your ankle as those tightly etched lines on his face only dug deeper, as if the only expression he could reserve was a scowl.

You inhaled sharply, worried that you were treading on thin ice already. “What’s he like? Your brother.”

Sukuna scoffed. “My brother? Real arrogant bastard.” He placed an antiseptic wipe into his mouth just to tear it open with his canines. “Aggressive, unhinged.”

“Like you,” you quickly added with a tug of your lip.

Sukuna glanced up, a sarcastic grin coloring him before he leaned forward to flick your forehead, a gesture he’d gotten incredibly comfortable with executing.

“Ouch!” You yelped, hands flying to shield your forehead as Sukuna snickered under his breath. “The hell was that for?”

“For being a lil brat,” he jeered back, finishing up the dressing.

You slowly lowered your hands, resting them on your thighs and frowning.

“Been quite a few days now,” he started, effectively changing the subject, lowering your leg and peering up at you. “I’ll walk you down the main trail first thing. Had someone pick up my shift.”

You could feel your heart skip a beat, shuffling in your seat as you averted eye contact. “Well, I’m not sure if I’m totally healed and—.”

“If you complain too much, I'll just drag you by the ankle.”

Or in normal, non-Sukuna terms, he’ll carry you on his back like he did up the hill.

“But I-I,” you began to fumble over your words, perturbation spiking. “I haven’t completed my fill yet and cleaned enough—.”

He spoke your name curtly, a volume slightly raised above your own that it had you come to a halt in your rambles, heat warming your cheeks discomfitingly. “Tomorrow morning. Won’t say it again.”

A rock of desperation sat thick in your throat, feeling yourself develop a case of cottonmouth in real time as Sukuna retreated to his room for the evening. You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, biting the inside of your cheek.

To put it plainly—you didn’t want to leave.

You liked it here compared to your real life in the city. It was stupid to think that you could continue to mooch off of Sukuna by sleeping on his wearing and scruffy couch and cook him two meals and think he’d allowed you to stay.

But he’d done far more than enough. Opened his home to you and fed you and allowed you autonomy with nothing in return.

You didn’t like being indebted, but you did like Sukuna’s shabby little nook in the forest.

Lamentably, your little vacation and respite had come to an end.

In all honesty, you probably could’ve walked down by day three. But you ignored your near-healed injury and deluded yourself into thinking this newfound peace was something you could continue to indulge in.

You plopped down on the couch, crossing your arms over your chest, eyes dialed in on his popcorn ceiling marked with water stains and dust.

It’d only been a few days, and though you hated how abrasive and standoffish Sukuna was, he was possibly the first person to really notice you.

His eyes didn’t rake over you and allow you to blend into the crowd. He treated you like a nuisance at times and your banter was practically never-ending, but you’d oddly found a sense of mutual understanding between each other.

Two people who felt abandoned by the real world.

You shut your eyes, dragging your hands over your face as you pulled the thin sheet over your head, attempting to shake off your plethora of emotions you didn’t have the energy to sort out.

𖠰 ⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧🪵𓇢𓆸

“Don’t even think about forgettin’ nothin’. I’m not coming all the way back up.”

You rolled your eyes, adjusting the rucksack on your back as you shuffled down the wooden steps. “I won’t. You got a switchblade I can borrow?”

Sukuna eyed you as you leaned over to tie your boots, your face shielded from him as your unnecessarily wide-brimmed hat flopped in the early morning haze. “Uh. No. You’re outta luck,” he murmured, shoving a hand into his jean pockets and glancing down the hill.

You looked up at him from the ground, unable to hide your blatant surprise. “You’re kidding. A lumberjack doesn’t own a blade?”

He just shrugged, averting his gaze and narrowing his eyes. “We gonna get goin’ or what?”

You scowled, hopping to your feet and dusting your knees off. “Wow. You really have mastered the art of deflection,” you taunted, walking past him just to nudge his arm.

He flinched at the contact, watching you pad down the trail with a permanent scowl, the ink on his face contorting with each antagonized expression.

“So,” you called out minutes later, only a few feet behind him as he’d overtaken your slow pace easily. You didn’t even try to keep up with his long strides, as if he couldn’t get rid of you any quicker. “What’s the plan if we’re cornered by a pack of mutts again?”

Sukuna only ignored you, but you could see his irritation light up in the way his fingers flexed at his sides.

Just the sound of your voice seemed to infuriate him sometimes.

You jogged up towards him, craning your head up and squinting against the harsh rays of the sun tethered high in the sky, her light filtered through flitting leaves. “No plan? Because a switch blade would be of some real relief—“

“Do you ever stop talking?”

You shrugged, undeterred. “You’ve asked me that before. You should know the answer.”

𖠰 ⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧🪵𓇢𓆸

“Are we almost thereeeee,” you whined out, hands hanging limp at your sides as you dragged your feet.

It felt like your muscles were on fire, tensing with each movement and flaring as your exhaustion only roared on.

“Nope.”

Sukuna was at your side now, irritated that you kept falling too far behind and resigning to your slow tempo.

You continued to huff and puff and bitch and moan, but as much as Sukuna hated to hear your grievances, he also enjoyed seeing you suffer in the afternoon heat.

Sweat beaded across your browline and down your spine, your top clinging to the perspiration. Your eyes hung low, as if you could pass out any moment from heat stroke and your throat had gone dry after chugging all of your water.

Sukuna on the other hand? The guy was in tip-top shape. And it drove you mad. His stamina was one to rival a wolf with.

“C-can’t we take a break?” You groaned out of breath.

Sukuna let out consecutive tsks, watching as your rucksack made you hunch over like you were about to topple a stack of dominoes. “Now how could we when we’re so close.”

You shot him a glare. “You literally just said we weren’t close.”

“Heats’ got me hallucinating,” he sarcastically defended, arching a brow at you with a sharp grin.

You opened your mouth to call him a slew of curses that equated him as crass and crazy, when your foot stalled.

You gasped, effectively tripping over your own foot as you stepped on your undrawn shoe lace, arms flying forward.

Sukuna’s eyes bulged, arms instinctively reaching forward and stepping in front of you.

And as clumsy as you were, your foot caught the back of his, pushing him backwards, your hands smacking against his chest.

You both fell with a timber-like thud, crashing into a pile of brush. You could hear Sukuna wince and grunt as he broke your fall.

His massive hands were around your waist, your face stuffed into the crook of his neck and accidentally taking in his scent—cigarettes and a woody musk so undeniably him.

The two of you were still for a moment—could’ve been mere seconds, could’ve been minutes—until you inhaled sharply and pushed off of him, falling to the side with an unceremonious thunk!

Sukuna stared at the sky, arms flopped to his sides lazily as you scrambled over words, heat rising from your nape all the way to the crown of your ears. “I- Sorry I didn’t mean to—,” you stopped yourself, eyes fixing on his palm.

He seemed to have sliced it open against brush, a bleeding wound the size of your pinky across the front of his hand.

“Oh my god, your hand,” you gasped, fingers reaching out to smooth a finger near the broken skin, but Sukuna seemed to beat you to the punch.

He sat up quickly, tugging his hand away from you like you’d burn him if you came into contact and getting to his feet. “Christ, woman. I’m fine.”

You furrowed your brows, swallowing a thick lump of contrite lodged in your throat. “Are you sure? Your hand looked—.”

“We going or what?” He interrupted, a deep contempt and frustration brewing on his face, like he’d tasted coffee somehow even more bitter than his regular order.

He scoffed at your momentary silence and picked up his pace down the path, fingers flexing at his side again.

You bit your lip, scrambling to your feet and hurrying after him.

Though, you made sure to never fall too far behind this time, just a few paces behind him.

𖠰 ⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧🪵𓇢𓆸

For the duration of what was left, you kept your gaze lowered on the floor before you, occasionally kicking a pebble and watching it scurry away.

Sukuna kept his pace manageable. But he didn’t utter a word to you.

The tension was more than palpable—like a thick, tempestuous cloud hanging over the both of you that neither of you dared to acknowledge.

Your heart never really slowed to a resting pace—whether that be from another unbridled argument with Sukuna or the exertion of the walk. You didn’t dare attempt to decipher which possibility it may be.

You picked at the skin around your nails, feeling like a little kid who’d gotten in trouble and blindly followed their parents around.

Thankfully, this was the last you’d be seeing of him. No more stifling arguments that left your skin flaring.

“My truck is just down the road.” Sukuna suddenly broke the silence, his pace coming to a stop.

“What?” You squeaked out immediately, peering up at him from the rim of your hat.

He gave you a strange look, cocking his head to the side reluctantly. “Uh, we’re here. I wouldn’t mind giving you a lift back to—.”

“No!” You interrupted, shaking your hands in front of you. You hadn’t even noticed how long the two of you had been walking, the rushing sound of cars from a nearby freeway augmenting your senses.

Sukuna narrowed his eyes, gaze dancing across you. If you were any less lucid, you could’ve sworn you’d seen remorse coloring him.

“I’ve got it figured out from here. Thanks, Sukuna,” you breathed out slowly, a wide smile across your cheeks that pinched the skin uncomfortably.

He couldn’t shake off the odd feeling churning in his chest, coughing it away and averting his gaze with his hands planted on his hips. “Suit yourself.”

You glanced at the open road, just past it was a gas station where you’d be able to rest before calling for a ride.

“I’d say see you around but we both know how unlikely that is,” you admitted with a dry laugh, goosebumps littering your body in a cold sweat.

He side-eyed you, jaw clenched as he mulled over something in silence.

But you could barely take it anymore.

“Goodbye, Sukuna,” you whispered, any louder and it wouldn’t be a promise.

He brought a hand over his hat, before bowing his head, real lumberjack-like.

“Bye, city girl.”

𖠰 ⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧🪵𓇢𓆸

You nearly passed out at the rest stop, chugging three bottles of water and splashing your face in the restroom before plopping on one of those window seats.

The cup of ramen you downed had your head lolling, belly satiated and brain fuzzy as you waited for your phone to charge up.

Halfway through day three with Sukuna, your phone had died and you didn’t care to charge it.

Not like you could anyway. You didn’t bring a charger and Sukuna had a phone at least several generations behind with a cracked screen. You wondered if he even cared to use it.

Your phone buzzed on and, lo and behold, fifteen missed calls and twenty texts ranging from your boss to your colleagues.

And one missed call from your mother.

Great.

You skimmed your fingers through your hair, ordering an uber. Truthfully, you didn’t want to deal with any of this until you slept for ten hours minimum but you didn’t have the luxury to ignore all of your issues as much as you’d like to.

So you hopped from your seat and rolled your shoulder, dragging your feet to your rideshare.

𖠰 ⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧🪵𓇢𓆸

“Look who decided to show up.”

You rolled your eyes at your peach-skinned boss, stepping into the shabby building with flickering neon logo lights nestled between a 24-hour convenience shop and a hole-in-the-wall bar and karaoke.

“I already texted you and called to apologize. Please don’t make my migraine worse,” you shot back, rolling your neck as exhaustion still seemed to plague you. You plopped down on the weathered couch, the familiar sinking feeling having you toss your head back and groan. “Is Shoko out on a run?”

She padded over to you, half of her face shielded from the milky braid she was so adamant on wearing all of the time. To be quite frank, you didn’t know what the other side of her face even looked like. Which was odd for the duration you’d worked under her. “She’ll be back in a few. You do understand these are grounds to fire you, yes?”

“My god, Mei Mei. We both know you’re not going to do that,” you sighed, feeling like there were bare canines skimming over your nape, any harder and they make break your irritated skin. “Take three days out of my pay. Happy?”

She bristled, turning on her heel and leaning against her desk. “She was worried sick,” she started, tone flat and monotonous. “Filed a missing persons report and everything.”

You bit your lip, eyes dialed in on the chipped rim across the room beside the grey and lifeless metal lockers. “You sure you weren’t worried sick?” You attempted to break the tension, though you knew the answer.

She scoffed incredulously. “I was. Worried that I’d somehow have to find someone as competent as you looking to be a modern day scullery maid,” she sighed out, peeling documents from her desk to skim over.

You huffed, grabbing your bag and shoving up from your seat to rake through your locker. “When’s the next service?”

“45 minutes from now. Rest up, it’ll be some back breaking work.”

𖠰 ⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧🪵𓇢𓆸

She wasn’t kidding.

Your first day back on the job after your accidental get-away was to some dilapidated house on the edge of town. Some affluent couple with too much free time decided to delve into flipping-culture, enter your cleaning company to fix up the place before they got to work on the infrastructure and furnishing.

For the following five hours, you scrubbed, brushed, mopped, sponged, wiped, squeegeed, buffed, shined, and polished the place until every limb of yours nearly gave out.

Shoko didn’t mind keeping close company the entire time, scolding your ear off and pinching you.

“Do you know how awkward it was to call your mother? Do you?” She huffed between scrapes of the bathroom tub, removing the age old grime. “She said you’d probably gone on some bender after—.” She halted herself mid-conversation, worrying her lip between her teeth.

You glanced over your shoulder with knitted brows, hand stilling against the mirror. “After what?”

Shoko bit the inside of her cheek, slowly continuing her movements like she was inconspicuous, regretting ever uttering a word.

“Sho. What are you talking about?”

She slowly turned to meet your gaze, a sheepish smile on her lips. “Naoya sent her an invitation, too.”

Your mouth hung open, the rag in your hand effectively falling into the sink. “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck,” you cursed under your breath, snapping your gloves off. “Of course he fucking did.”

You pulled your phone from your pocket and hurried out of the bathroom, striding into some empty bedroom littered with old couches draped in plastic, heavy drapes shielding any source of light.

The only illumination in the room was your phone, lighting up your face as you frantically searched for her extremely buried contact and hit the call button.

You folded your arms, leg bouncing as you heard the line buzz, before it clicked on.

“Mom! Hi, I just saw your message—.”

“Where on Earth have you been?”

You froze, nails digging into your biceps. “Let me explain, o-over dinner. Tonight?”

You could hear her sigh on the other side, voice nothing but crestfallen. You could imagine her lounging in the living room, legs folded while she perused whatever tabloid she could find around the house resting in her lap, phone pressed to her ear.

All while wondering what she’d done to deserve a daughter like you.

“I have plans. I’m just trying to understand why I could not reach you.”

You swallowed thickly. “I went for a hike, mom. I got lost and—.”

“Is it because of Naoya? Did the wedding invite bother you?”

And God, did you hate how she just knew these things. How could she be so certain and understanding but lacking any sort of sympathy for you?

”No one wants to see a wedding invite from their ex-husband,” you tersely stated, knuckles whitening against the tight grip on your device. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m not going.”

You couldn’t mask your dejection.

“Like hell you aren’t. The Zenin’s invited us, and so God help me if we aren’t in attendance. Especially after all they’ve done for us,” she firmly spoke, skimming her fingers through her wiry hair.

Even after your divorce, the Zenins still offered to take care of your family. You’d turned down their hush money since the start, ensuring you wouldn’t spread the fine details of your muddled relationship, but your mother enjoyed her early retirement and stuffing her pockets.

You gritted your teeth, your discomfort only manifesting into blinding anger. Your lips tightened upwards and curled inwards, wrinkles littering the crease in your forehead. You wanted to scream at your mother, incoherent and inconsolable until you couldn’t anymore.

The relationship you held with your mother was too violent for tears. A woman who’d clipped the wings of her offspring and watched her stumble clumsily, never offering a hand to ground her. Built upon your own wreckage. Swallowing the words you so wished you could utter.

She hadn’t been your mother in a long time, really.

You don’t know when it happened. Maybe when she’d haggled you for your too-short skirt when you were thirteen and barely growing into yourself.

Maybe it was when you’d gotten accepted into your dream college and she could barely display an ounce of pride.

Maybe it was before you’d walked down the aisle, expressing your worries of having a small wedding that she only silenced you with a tut of her tongue.

Maybe it was after your father passed. Her blinded by grief and rage brought upon you like a monsoon, shoving you and gutting you beneath the tide.

Maybe it was when you told her you couldn’t bear children, not after trying for months and your husband's tone only becoming more and more clipped with each passing moment.

Maybe it was when you’d come to her at four in the morning, crying when you’d found evidence of his infidelity and she’d only given you that same blank stare she wore, telling you that every man slips up and to turn a blind eye.

You hadn’t understood the severity of the situation you were in until it was too late. Marrying a man who so desperately wanted to continue his lineage.

And when he couldn’t? He’d just find it elsewhere.

Who said you didn’t want that as well? A child to call your own. A pathetic part of you thought this marriage would save you—sweep you out from under your feet and carry you to a higher standing.

You thought that after all those years of gutted self-esteem, that a lavish white wedding would slap a bandaid on it.

It was pitiful.

But what hurt the most was that you had no one on your side. Not your mother, not your father, not even a lover. No one to stand beside you when it all felt like it was tumbling down.

You wiped the vain tears from your cheeks, clearing your throat as you chose not to resign to your emotions, a tactic you’d taught yourself. “Okay, mom.”

You hung up, ignoring her calls of protest on the other line.

There was really no arguing with her, you saw no point in it.

You still had time before the wedding, enough time to build yourself up to someone untouchable by their comments. Comments not just from the Zenin family, but from your own kin.

You shoved your phone into your pocket, sniffling and blinking back the last of your tears.

No use in crying over it now.

Padding back into the bathroom, you watched Shoko spray away the suds she’d worked up. “Hey, I was gonna ask. What was the name of the guy you stayed with?” She queried, wiping her forearm against her forehead.

You averted her gaze, focusing on the sink you needed to bleach. “Sukuna.”

She chuckled to herself, making an ‘ouhhhh’ sound that you smacked her for, drawing a cigarette from her pocket and thumbing the sparkwheel.

No matter your protests, she assumed that this mystery man was your secret lover.

You snagged the lighter from her before she could get a chance to light it.

“Hey! I was using that,” she pouted, lower lip jutting as she frowned.

“Uh huh. No smoking indoors and on the job. Do you want to lose your job?”

She scoffed, snagging the lighter back. “Funny coming from you. Smoke detectors were turned off for cleaning and repairs.”

You huffed, snapping a new set of gloves on.

The sound of fire kindling had your stomach lurching, sent into a volley of somersaults.

The smell was even worse.

Of course she had to be smoking Marlboro Reds.

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fics-lovebot · 5 months ago

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enhypen fic recs pt.4

main masterlist - pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 5

· · ♡ · · tysm to the amazing creative minds of the writers for giving me sevaral moments of joy reading your creations

these are my personal favs, so pls reblog if you like any of my recs❤️

random texts with bf!jay - ( @enha-stars ), love it

too sweet - ( @star-sim ) fluff, suggestive, badboy!jake, nerdy!reader, downbad!jake. Jay is scared he will hurt you in the future so he tries to break things off but at the end of the day he´s whipped LMAOOO, I LOVE ITTTTTT

say it back! - ( @star-sim ) FLUFF, non-idol! bf! jay, clingy cute!reader, whipped!jake, like fr, UGHHHHHHHH SO CUTE AND DOMESTIC

pics i posted on my ig story for my crush to see - ( @lattegyu ) ig stories, fluff, crack, smau, non idol!jay

pictures of bf!jay enha send you - ( @ddksoo ) text, fluff

justice and mercy - ( @thoughtsofmetaphor ) god!jay x virgin!reader, NAHHHH the potential rev harem this had is insaneee, i love it

eat the rich - ( @enhypencores ) chaebol!jay x fem!reader, wheeeewww, i love this sfdlsdjfljkshd he´s so manly and possessive

fuck buddy jake - ( @heeseungsbm ) smut, lowkey fluff bc he´s got a fat crush

texts with ex-bf!jake - ( @bywons ) fluff, CRACK, he´s down bad fr

pictures of bf!jake enha send you - ( @ddksoo ) text, fluff

necklace - ( @rikiislvr ) fluff, idol!riki, i WISH this would happen to me but i´m too broke to be frequenting the same stores as him alsjfha, need a part two asap plss

busy woman - ( @heedeungism ) fluff, angst, crack, lacrosse player!niki, rich kids au, highschool au, listen to me rn this is imPORTANT: this is one of THEE BEST NIKI FICS OUT THERE, NO QUESTIONS ASKED. i had to hide in every corner to read this at work bc 1) i couldn´t STOP reading it and 2) i couldn´t let anybody see me reading it bc it had me giggling like a dumb bitch. js go read it, pls and ty

string of fate - ( @acphengene ) fluff, angst, soulmate au series, idol!enha. YESSIIIRRRRR, i love love love love tHIS, one of the best enha soulmates au i´ve read so far, the niki one made me fucking cry omg, but my fav is deff jungwon, it was so good it made me read the whole series, did not dissapoint AT ALL, so do yourself a favor and read it to :p

helping hand - ( @ghstzzn ) smut. pro gamer!hee, bsf!reader. "heeseung had an unusual ritual before every competition as a professional league of legends player", you already know how it issss, some top tier head and now he´s begging and shi sjsjs, i loved this

bounded by fate - ( @tobiosbbyghorl ) fluff, ceo!sunghoon, lowk slow burn if you squint, secretary!reader, nahhhhhh why is he lowkey smooth and confident af, making me blush and shi

perv - ( @urlovebot ) smut. perv!sunghoon, non-con themes. oh,,,my god. i have no words,,i was literally reading this with a gaping mouth, ykw just go through her whole m.list atp

serendipity - ( @kaiyunsim ) fluff, spiderman!jake, if you love hot loser!jake as much as i do, you´re gonna LOVE this.

that was too far - ( @semisasseater ) angst, fluff, bf!niki. ni-ki took his joke a bit too far. this would SO happend to him irl too i fear

aftercare and pillowtalk - ( @enhani-ki ) fluff, bf!niki, suggestive. i loved it sm :(, and as an angsty fic lover & connoisseur my soul is bEGGING for a following part where hE breaks her heart (with hea ofc :p i´m no that sick and twisted).

king of tears - ( @enhaflixer ) angSSSt, fluff, smut, chaebol husband!sunghoon, maknae line cameo. WWWWWOW i ate this tf uPPPPP, girlllll this should be aired on netflix fosho!, so so gooD!

tying them up - ( @enhaflixer ) smut. WAIT WSIT WAIT WAIT WAITTTTT I WANS´T EXPECTING THIS I- miss girl you have opened my eYES to a better world, where pretty men cry. thank you.

fwb!sunghoon - ( @vampjaeyun ) angst. the ending :)))))))))))))))))) i´ll let yall see for yourselves. i almost crashed out at worK

strawberry kisses - ( @amoressb ) FLUFF. idol bf!niki. NAURRRR THIS WAS SO CUTE IT HAD ME TEARING UPPPPP :´) and not jake being an anti-romantic lmao

until i found her - ( @orimuraa ) FLUFF. down bad!enha, bad boy!enha. the niCKNAMES :((((((( thisissofuckingcute

is it a crime to be attracted to my girl? - ( @youngheejay ) suggestive, bf!sunghoon. lmaooooo this man was stressed oUT. and not him calling the others "bitchless losers" i cant

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igorluvr · 7 months ago

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‘LOVE AND LATTES | kang dae-ho x reader

PAIRING: kang dae-ho x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: during the games, dae-ho promised to take you on a proper first date. now that you had both successfully made it out, he was going to keep his promise

CONTENT: fluff, literally the tiniest bit of angst, kinda corny, trauma, kissing on the first date smh, reader is implied to be black

AUTHORS NOTE: tryna get a lot of fics out for u guys bcs almost 400 likes on my first ??? omg yall r so sweet i swearrr, tysmm !!! ngl this might be kinda bad bcs im too tired to read over it …

word count: [2.5k]

IT’S been around 3 days since you got out of those hellish games, and you still can’t seem to process it. There was so much death, you felt guilty for taking the money, but it was your only chance at having a way out.

After surviving and splitting the money with a good handful of people, you found yourself dropped off in a dark alleyway. With only a large duffel bag at your side, you felt lost, unsure of where to go.

Eventually, you made your way to a bus station and caught a ride back to your apartment. It took a while to adjust to being in the real world again, a world where a gun wasn’t being held up to your head every hour of the day.

You remembered how you met the sweetest boy there. Kang Dae-ho. He was everything you could’ve asked for. The perfect man, met at a perfectly terrible time. Your mind flashed back to the end of mingle game.

‘I swear, when we get out of here I’m gonna take you on a real date. No guards, no games, just us two and the future ahead of us, okay?’ Dae-ho promised, cupping your face gently in his hands.

‘I love you with all of my heart, and I wanna see you when this is all over. We can move in with eachother and spend everyday in eachothers arms.’ He rambled with tears in his eyes, ‘I can’t lose you.’

Now in the present day, you wished you’d spend more time with him. You thought back to the last day in the games, when you wrote your number on his hand, hoping it wouldn’t be wiped off by the guards before he got home so you could live out the future you planned.

As the days passed, you lost hope in being able to reunite with your lover. Memories of him flashed through your mind. “Fuck, Dae-ho.” you whispered, “If only I had one more day with you..” and as if on cue, you heard your phone ring.

You stared for a couple seconds, confused as to who it could be. ‘It wouldn’t be Dae-ho, would it?’ With an ounce of hope left in your mind, you hurried and clicked the green answer button.

Silence lingered, then you heard a voice that made your heart explode.

“Hello?” Dae-ho’s wavering voice sounded “Is this you?”

You jumped up in joy, feeling a huge smile stretch across your face.

“Oh my God, Dae-ho!! It’s actually you!!” You exclaimed. “I missed you so much I thought we’d never talk again.”

A relieved sigh came from the other line, followed by a slight laugh. “I missed you more. How have you been? Where are you? Do you want me to come over?” he bombarded

“Okay woah, I can tell you missed me. I’m doing good, well better than I was a couple days ago, I’m at my house, and yes, I would love for you to come” You answered

The line went quiet for a moment, making you wonder if you’d lost the connection. Just as concern started to creep in, Dae-ho spoke again “Do you remember that promise I made before we got out?”

Of course you remember, his words have been playing on repeat in your mind like a record. Your heart skipped a beat as you thought of it actually coming true. You muttered a quick ‘mhm’ for him to continue.

“Tomorrow, meet me at the cafe down the street from that big market. I don’t know where you stay, so if it’s too far tell me and I’ll call you an uber.” he planned, “Dress up, even though I know you’ll look amazing in anything” You felt the butterflies in your stomach form as he carried on about what’ll happen the next day.

As the conversation came to a close and you got ready for bed, you found yourself thinking of any possible scenario that could happen tomorrow, good and bad.

‘What if my hair doesn’t cooperate?’

‘What if he doesn’t like how I look anymore?’

‘What if he’s setting me up?’

All these unlikely events start to run through your mind and it caused you to be overwhelmed with everything happening. When drifting off to sleep, you hope that everything turns out right.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You woke up to a constant ‘ding’ blaring through your room every 10 seconds. Immediately, you pressed the power button on your phone thinking maybe you’d accidentally set an alarm. When it didn’t subside after this, you groggily opened your phone to locate the noise.

There were about 15 notifications from Dae-ho, them all texting you as if you’d died in your sleep or something.

A pool of ‘are you awake?’ and ‘are you okay?’ flooded on your lock screen. Not wanting him to worry any further, you decided to text him back

‘goodmorninggg, i’m up now sorry 😭 im okay, how are you?’ You typed, half asleep.

Immediately, your message was read and the bubbles on the left side of the screen appeared.

‘I’m okay. Why do you sleep so late? You scared me.’ the message read. You hadn’t even realized the time. ‘2:26pm’ the clock read. You always had a bad habit of sleeping in but it had gotten unusually bad after getting back from the games.

You quickly apologized in your message, explaining your situation to which he swiftly understood. As the conversation progressed, you discussed your date. You were the type of person that needed to know every detail before doing something, especially something like this.

The both of you decided to meet there at 7pm, to give you time to get ready, and to dress up—but not too much. To be honest, you weren’t sure if you guys had the same definition of too much but you decided to put it aside for now.

Immediately after you guys finished discussing the details, you rushed to get ready. Even though you had 4 hours, it didn’t seem like nearly enough time to see him.

The closet was your first thought, since you basically lived by the rule of getting dressed first, doing hair, then putting on makeup. You scanned your closet for anything that would impress Dae-ho.

It took about 30 minutes alone to pick out an outfit. You decided on a long black dress you bought for your halloween costume that you never got the chance to wear, due to the pickup for the games occurring the same day. You picked out jewelry and a coat to go with it, since it was the beginning of winter.

After getting dressed, you gathered all your makeup supplies and rushed to the bathroom. Doing your makeup took longer than you wanted it to, but you wanted everything to be perfect since this was the first time you’d see him outside of life-or-death situations.

Every wing of eyeliner had to be just right, your lip gloss needed just the right amount of shine, everything had to reflect how much you cared.

The hair was the part you’d been dreading. You didn’t know if it was the detangling, or getting your part straight, but it gave you a headache just thinking about it.

After stalling for about 20 minutes, you finally built up the strength to start on your hair. Pinterest was your best friend for situations like this. You quickly opened the board labeled “hairstyles” and scrolled through them to find the perfect one.

You’d found this beautiful blown-out hairstyle that would look amazing with your outfit and makeup. Since you knew it would take a long time, you silently braced yourself, this wouldn’t be an easy task. You grabbed the blow dryer, flat iron, heat protectant, and got to work.

In about 2 hours, you had finally finished at 6:50pm. The cafe was about 7 minutes away from you, so you grabbed your stuff and walked out of the door.

The drive there was the worst part. Your stomach was doing somersaults. Even though you’d seen eachother at your literal worsts, it still felt so scary. With all these anxieties flashing through your mind, you managed to push them to the back and keep a confident facade.

As you pulled up, you sent a quick text stating your arrival. You fidgeted with the ends of your dress absentmindedly, spacing out and hoping for the best.

The ding of your phone sent shivers down your spine as a text popped up reading ‘Perfect. Come inside and turn to the left, I’m here.’

You felt like throwing up as you walked up to the entrance of the café. The strong smell of caffeine and pastries hit your nose as you searched for Dae-ho in the warm lights.

Turning left as he instructed, you were met with his beaming face, looking like he’d seen the most beautiful sunrise. His eyes widened in awe, and for a moment, he seemed frozen. The corners of his mouth curled up into an infectious smile, and you felt a rush of warmth, knowing that in this moment, you had completely captivated him.

Almost immediately, he jumped up and gave you an engulfing hug. You didn’t know if it was because you were used to the smell of blood being around him, but he smelled astonishingly good. It was like the best mixture of his natural scent and a very expensive cologne.

As he pulled back slightly, you noticed a beautiful bouquet of flowers in his hands—delicate white lilies mixed with soft pink roses. “These are for you,” he said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. “I thought it was only right for our first date.”

His hair was down to his neck, loose and messy, quite different from the bun you were used to seeing him in during the games. The collar of his shirt was casually unbuttoned, too. He looked effortlessly flawless.

“You look… wow. You’re so beautiful,” Dae-ho complimented, sending electric shocks through your veins. A rush of shyness met your face—he really thought of you like that?

“It’s so good to see you,” you said, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and delight. “You look amazing too. I mean, I always thought you were handsome, but just… wow.” You took the bouquet from him, inhaling the sweet fragrance of the flowers.

His laughter danced through the air, a sound that brought you so much peace and clarity. “I’m just glad I could pull myself together after… well, everything.” His smile faded a bit, and you felt the silent weight of shared trauma hovering between you.

“Let’s not think about that tonight ,” you suggested softly, taking a seat across from him. “We deserve a night where those horrible games are the last of our worries.”

“Agreed,” he said, leaning forward, his gaze intensifying. “Tonight is about us, and starting fresh,together.”

As you scanned the cafe, adorned with twinkling fairy lights and the faint piano covers playing in the background,you felt the tension from earlier gradually melt away. You could see other people laughing, having the time of their lives. It felt surreal to be part of such a normal scene after everything you had both endured.

The waitress came up to your table and you both ordered drinks; he went for a dark roast coffee while you chose for a sweet vanilla latte. “It’s nice to be able to actually enjoy these little things.” you ranted, “After everything, I never even thought we’d get here.”

Dae-ho's eyes sparkled with that familiar warmth. “I’ve thought about this moment every day since I got back,” he admitted. “Dreamt about sitting across from you in a place that feels safe, where we can just be us.”

That sentiment made your heart swell. You immersed yourself in his beautiful sunkissed eyes. “What do you want for us, Dae-ho?” You asked, knowing that his answer could make or break you.

He hesitated for a moment, his expression solemn. “I want to build a life with you, whatever that looks like. It could be road trips everyday and always having new experiences together, or a cozy apartment with a beautiful family and no worries. I want us to share everything, the good, the bad—everything.”

The sincerity behind his words wrapped around your heart like a warm, familiar blanket. “I want that too,” you said softly, placing your hand over his. The connection was electric, sending sweet shivers up your body.

As you sipped your drinks, Dae-ho leaned in closer, a serious look in his eyes. “You know, I’ve thought about you every single day since we got out. I really missed you.”

“Really? I missed you too,” you replied, voice full of veracity. “It’s been hard without you.”

He took a long pause, as if he was searching for the right words. “I never realized how much I wanted someone like you in my life. Just knowing you were out there somewhere gave me hope.”

You felt your heart pang at his words, you spent all your life searching for a love like this, it felt so good to finally have it. “It was the same for me too. Every time I felt like giving up I had to remind myself of us, and our future.”

A soft smile grew on his face. “I knew we’d find our way back to each other. I just didn’t know how much it would mean to finally be here, like this.”

“Me either,” you said softly. “I was nervous about tonight. I worried that maybe everything would feel different.” You thought back to earlier and how stupid you were for thinking he would see you differently. This is genuinely all you could've asked for.

Dae-ho shook his head with his eyebrows fixed in a furrow. “I was nervous too, but being with you feels right. I could really see us living a perfect life someday”

Your heart swelled with warmth. With him, you felt like you can just be yourself without any fear. He was genuinely your safe space.

“I promise we’ll stay connected. No matter how hard things get, we’ll keep fighting for each other.” You swore, knowing how your past relationships ended and wanting to break the cycle.

“Thank you, really. It means the world to me,” Dae-ho said sincerely, his eyes meeting yours. “I just want us to have a future, no matter how hard it'll be.”

“Yeah, me too,” you replied, feeling a sense of calm settle over you. “It’s comforting to have someone you know will be there for you, even on the darker days.”

His smile deepened, and for a moment, everything else faded. Just the two of you were in the room—focused on your shared promise. Nothing else mattered in this moment, you were ready to finally create a new beginning.

Silence in the air was broken as he finally spoke up, “I want to build a life where we support each other through any and everything." he grinned. “Even the small moments matter. Like cooking together and trying not to burn the kitchen down.”

You chuckled softly, picturing you both in the kitchen attempting to cook and leaving something in the oven too long. “I can definitely see that happening.”

“And if we accidentally set the place on fire, at least I’ll have an excuse to scoop you up and look all heroic while I rescue you.” he joked, his expression growing more playful

Laughter erupts from you and your eyes sprinkle with joy, causing Dae-ho to lean in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You know, I really missed your laugh. It makes everything feel so much brighter.”

“Really?” you asked, feeling warmth spread through your chest, “I missed yours too, it’s cute.”

The atmosphere felt light, almost euphoric, as you both relaxed into the comfort of eachother's presence. “Believe it or not, I was really so nervous for tonight,” Dae-ho admitted, his voice softening as he brushes his hair back behind his ear. “I thought I’d forget how to talk to you.”

“Trust me,” you said, voice tender, “I was nervous too. But I realized that after everything, who else could understand us like this?”

“Exactly,” He said before taking a sip of his coffee. “I feel like I can be myself around you, like I’ve never been able to with anyone else. It’s so freeing.”

“Freedom and love. Isn’t that what life’s really all about?” you said, your voice filled with hope and longing. You felt a warmth in your heart as you spoke, realizing that these two things were what you truly cherished.

As the conversation flowed, you exchanged stories, laughter, and memories—you shared dreams and fears, and slowly the nervousness slowly melted away.

“I can’t believe we made it out,” he said, his voice stern. “I can’t stop thinking about the others we lost… what they would’ve did if they made it out too.”

A brief silence enveloped the moment, both of you remembering the friends that didn’t make it, the faces of people who had shared brutal experiences with you.

“I think they’d want us to live, like really live,” you said firmly, squeezing his hand gently. “To make the most of us getting out, we owe it to them.” Dae-ho silently nodded, the thick atmosphere slowly leaving.

As the evening progressed, you lost track of time, so caught up in the warmth of shared smiles and nervous laughter. You could hardly believe this was the same man who stepped up and took initiative at every rough point during the games, willing to sacrifice himself for everyone's safety.

The night ended slowly as Dae-ho walked you outside to your car. The stars twinkled like tiny beacons in the dark sky above. “It feels different tonight, doesn’t it?” you said, glancing up at the stars. “Yeah, it really does,” he replied, his voice soft but full of warmth.

As you strolled along, flowers in hand, you both shared stories from before you met, your voices mixing with the soft hum of the night. Every smile and nervous chuckle made you feel a little lighter. You realized how much you valued this moment, this time together, away from the chaos and pain that had once consumed you both.

You exchanged glances, and you both understood something unspoken between you. “I never thought I could feel this way again,” you said, a hint of vulnerability in your voice. Dae-ho stepped closer, his gaze steady. “Neither did I. But I’m glad we’re here together.”

Finally, you paused beneath a big, ancient tree. Its branches stretched out like arms, swallowing you both in its shadow. Dae-ho turned to you, his eyes beaming in the starlight. His stare locked onto yours, and he took a step closer, face inches from yours.

"I wish this could last forever baby, I love you." he whispered, breath caressing your skin. Then, without another word, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, gentle kiss. You felt a spark of connection, and your heart skipped a beat as you kissed him back, the warmth of his lips sending shivers down your spine. The kiss deepened, and everything else faded away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the sweetness of the moment.

As the kiss lingered, time itself seemed to stand still, the world around you fading into a beautiful blur. When you finally pulled away, his eyes searched yours, a mix of desperation and love radiating from him. "Whatever happens, I'll always be here" he said softly, his hand still cradling your face. You smiled, knowing that no matter where life took you, this memory would be a cherished part of your story, a promise of what could be.

#kang dae ho x reader #kang dae ho #squid game #dae ho x reader #kang daeho #daeho x reader #squid game x reader #kang dae ho fluff #dae ho fluff #squid game fluff #need that

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blueberrybirdsworld · 2 months ago

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Plus one 3/9

Summary : When Lando Norris realizes he's the only F1 driver attending the Monaco F1 movie premiere without a girlfriend, he panics and convinces Oscar to help him find a last-minute plus one.

Author note : I get this story idea after the private projection of the F1 movie with all the drivers in Monaco (also can we imagine they weren't wearing their team kit and actually did dress up).

Genre : pure fluff

Series masterlist

Main masterlist

The theater was grand in a way only Monaco could manage: gold filigree ceilings, velvet seats, and chandeliers dimmed to a flattering warm glow. Lando followed Y/N down their row like a shadow, his palms slightly clammy, trying not to obsess over whether she’d sit next to him or next to Lily.

She chose the seat beside him, dropping into it easily with a quiet sigh of contentment.

Okay. Good start.

He sat too, far too stiffly and tried to mirror her casual posture, which only made him look like he was attempting yoga in a suit.

Y/N leaned slightly toward him, her voice low and cheerful. “This place is amazing. I’ve never been to a screening like this.”

He smiled, then panicked, then said the worst possible thing: “Yeah, same. Well, not same same. I’ve been to screenings. Loads. Just… not with a girl before. Not like this.”

She blinked. “Oh?”

The second of hesitation before her response made his stomach curl. That hadn’t sounded like flirting. That had sounded like a confession from someone painfully overthinking every word.

Y/N tilted her head, smiling. “Well, thanks for inviting me.”

Lando laughed too loudly. “Well it’s—it’s nice to have someone here. With me.”

She nodded, then glanced past him. “Oh! Lily’s over there with Carmen. Be right back.”

And just like that, she was gone. Floating off like a leaf in the breeze, over to Lily and Carmen, already mid-laugh before she’d even reached them.

Lando sat there, jaw slightly slack.

Okay. Okay, that’s fine. That’s normal. People talk to friends.

He tried not to look like he was watching her too closely.

Oscar slid into the empty seat next to him with a smug grin. “How’s it going, Romeo?”

“Shut up.”

Oscar leaned in. “She ditched you already?”

“She didn’t ditch me. She’s just—talking to Lily.”

Oscar made a thoughtful sound. “Right. You manage to tell her that this was a date, though, yeah?”

Lando stared at the movie screen ahead. “...Not in so many words, I was trying to be subtle."

“Subtle’s not working. You look like you're about to pass out.”

Lando glared. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Nope.” Oscar sipped his drink, then nodded toward Y/N, who was now animatedly telling Carmen something that made both of them laugh. “She’s having a great time, though.”

“Yeah, with everyone but me.”

“She just doesn’t know you’re emotionally imploding. You’re not exactly Mr. Expressive.”

Lando slumped in his seat, watching Y/N rejoin Lily and the others, slipping easily between groups like she’d been born into this world.

When she returned a few minutes later and sat back beside him, she smiled brightly.

“Sorry! I saw someone I knew from uni too. Small world.”

“Totally,” he muttered.

She looked at him, then hesitated. “Are you okay? You seem… quiet.”

“I’m fine,” he lied, and added too quickly, “I just—you know, it’s funny how you bring someone to something like this, and realising it could be… a thing.”

She looked puzzled. “A thing?”

“Like. A thing thing.” He added, trying to make her undrestand the message.

Her eyes widened slightly, then she laughed. “Oh! No, don’t worry. I’ve been telling people I’m just your fill-in so no one makes weird assumptions.”

He froze. “My… fill-in?”

“Yeah, you know. Like, a temporary plus one. Because your actual date bailed or something.”

“I… didn’t have another date.”

“Oh.”

A pause.

“Right,” she said with a small laugh. “Well—still, happy to help.”

Lando nodded slowly. “Yeah. Great.” It was a pure failure.

She turned back to the screen, blissfully unaware.

And Lando sank a little lower into his seat.

He didn’t even know what to say anymore. He’d invited a girl to a red carpet event, held open a car door for her, worn a tux like a proper gentleman… and she still thought she was just doing a favor for Lily.

Perfect.

The theater was silent as the screen flickered to life, and a slow hush fell over the crowd.

A dramatic orchestral swell opened the film, followed by sweeping shots of race tracks and pit lanes. The audience leaned forward in their seats, ready to be immersed.

Except Lando.

Lando leaned sideways.

Not obviously. Not enough for anyone to notice. But enough to watch her without looking like he was watching her.

Y/N sat beside him, hands folded lightly in her lap, eyes wide with curiosity. She looked like she genuinely wanted to be here, not for the glitz, not for the spectacle, but because she was interested.

Her brow lifted slightly at the first scene: a pit lane disaster involving a fictional team. She leaned forward when a mechanic shouted something garbled over a headset.

And then came the first action scene. Loud, fast, chaotic.

She flinched.

Not dramatically. Not in a way that would make anyone else think twice. But Lando saw it. Her shoulders twitched. Her lips parted in surprise. Then she grinned, just a little, and whispered something to herself that he couldn’t hear.

He had no idea what was happening on screen. And he didn’t care.

Because this—her—was a hundred times more interesting than any movie.

Every time the screen cut to a racetrack or showed a sleek car skimming along the asphalt, she leaned in slightly, her mouth parting like she was trying to absorb it all at once.

Then his own face appeared on screen, a brief glimpse of real footage mixed with the film’s narrative.He didn’t even remember filming that weekend.

Y/N immediately turned to him, beaming. She nudged his elbow lightly and whispered, “Look—it’s you!”

Her smile was warm and wide, like she was genuinely delighted to see him, not just impressed. It wasn't awe. It was something quieter, more personal.

He smiled back, heart tripping over itself.

“I know,” he whispered, voice hoarse.

She turned her attention back to the screen, still grinning.

Lando barely blinked for the next twenty minutes, not because the movie was riveting, but because she was. The way she tilted her head. The way she laughed quietly at one of the fake commentator’s quips. The way she mouthed "oh no" when a crash scene unfolded in slow motion. It was simply adorable.

He wanted to ask what she thought. He wanted to hear her break it down. He wanted to ask if she really liked it or was just being polite. He wanted to say her reactions was the cutest thing he ever witness.

Then, somewhere around the halfway point, the film quieted.

A sad scene, a hospital room, a driver injured, a teammate crying.

Y/N didn’t say anything. She just stilled.

Then, without looking at him, without asking, she reached out and gently gripped his arm.

Her fingers closed just above his elbow, soft but firm. Like she needed to hold onto something.

Lando froze.

She didn’t even notice. She kept watching, lost in the story, lips pressed together now, her gaze shining faintly in the glow of the screen.

But Lando didn’t even know what was happening in the film anymore. His brain had short-circuited.

All he could feel was the warmth of her hand against his jacket. Her thumb resting lightly near the inside of his elbow. His heart, hammering so loudly he was sure someone in the row ahead could hear it.

He swallowed.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t dare breathe too loudly.

By the time the scene faded into another racing montage, she let go, almost absentmindedly, not even aware she’d been holding on.

But Lando still hadn’t recovered.

The movie carried on, drama, rivalry, betrayal, all the classic beats. But Lando still hadn’t settled. Not really. Not since she touched him.

He tried to focus. Tried to reorient his brain back to the plot.

And that’s exactly when it happened.

The screen cut to a new scene: private quarters, dim lighting, soft music humming beneath the dialogue. A whispered exchange between the film’s lead and his love interest.

Lando didn’t think much of it, until the first moan hit.

Loud. Very loud.

He tensed immediately.

Oh no. No, no, no.

Beside him, Y/N shifted.

The moaning continued, paired with very clear visuals. Hands. Skin. Mouths. Legs.

And sounds. Why were the sounds so detailed?

Lando stared straight ahead, jaw locked. His hands gripped the armrest like he was preparing for a crash landing.

He could feel the heat crawl up his neck, into his face, and behind his ears. He could feel the blood rushing into his ears.

Do. Not. Look. At. Her.

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

But he did. Just a glance.

She had her hand up near her mouth, two fingers resting lightly against her lips. Not covering them. Just… there. Her eyes were still on the screen, but her brows had knit together, and her posture had stiffened just enough to confirm: she felt awkward, too.

And when she caught him looking, just barely, from the corner of her eye, she gave him the tiniest smile. A helpless, half-embarrassed, “what the hell is this” kind of smile.

He huffed out a breath.

It wasn’t a laugh. Not exactly. But it wasn’t panic either.

The scene dragged on another twenty seconds too long, and Lando genuinely considered walking out and pretending to get a drink. He’d rather fake a sprained ankle than sit through another hyperrealistic kiss-cut-to-bed-movement audio loop right next to the girl he was desperatly into.

But then, blessedly, it ended.

The music faded. The next scene opened on a sunrise.

Lando exhaled slowly and dared to glance at her again. This time, she looked at him, really looked at him, her cheeks faintly pink.

She whispered, “That was... intense.”

He whispered back, “I think I forgot how to breathe.”

She chuckled softly under her breath, clearly still embarrassed, but not running away from it.

And in that weird, horrible, mortifying moment, something shifted. Because instead of the perfect, poised girl who seemed too calm, too composed, too above it all, there she was.

Awkward.

Human.

Blushing.

Just like him.

And somehow, Lando found himself smiling back.

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prisonhannibal · 9 months ago

Text

My friend Nader’s (@abdalsalam1990) family has been displaced and had to flee their homes more than nine times since the start of the genocide in gaza. Nader is only seventeen years old and works hard every day to share his brother Abdulsalam’s fundraiser for their family

€22,392 out of €25,000 short term goal! Help Abdulsalam and his family get through this war in Gaza

I’ve written in more detail about his family’s situation here. It’s very urgent to get this family to safety as soon as possible because Nader’s father suffers from cancer and needs treatment he can’t get in gaza, and Abdulsalam’s daughter Iman is only one year old and suffering from malnutrition

If you have any amount to spare today, please help this family survive the genocide. Thanks to every amazing person that has donated so far, their fundraiser has made a lot of progress, but they still don’t have even 50% of the funds they need.

They only need €2,608 to get to 25,000! can we get them there as soon as possible?? I believe we can. I know there are many kind and helpful people who will donate and share this post ❤️

Vetted by @gazavetters, #4 on the spreadsheet (Abdul Salam Ahmed Al-Anqar)

@autisticmudkip @90-ghost @heritageposts @furiousfinnstan @biconicfinn @butchniqabi @fluoresensitive @neechees @strangeauthor @appsa @dlxxv-vetted-donations @akajustmerry @willgrahamscock @dirhwangdaseul @toesuckingoctober @vampiricvenus @sawasawako

#free gaza #gaza #palestine #free palestine #vetted fundraiser #evacuation fund #save gaza #save palestine #b00st #mutual @id #txt

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taifenggg · 1 year ago

Note

hi! 🌷 i love your scenarios so i instantly came to rq here <3

could you write about mc and the brothers having possessive s3x for the first time? their relationship is relatively new and they did it a few times, but for some reason they got jealous and the way they deal with it is by having somewhat angry / possessive s3x with reader (which is very different from what they're used to do

for example: belphie is usually lazy or slow, satan is a gentleman and spends a lot of time on foreplay, reader notices how their usual this time is almost the opposite bc the brother in question is SO jealous

idk if it made sense </3 if writing the 7 of them feels too much for you, then would mammon + satan + barbatos be okay? they're my favorites!

have an amazing day btw i love your content

Content Warning(s): NSFW obviously LMAO, hairpulling(Lucifer, Belphie), semi-public(Mammon, Asmo), overstimulation(Satan), slight degradation(Belphie), not proofread LOL

Character(s): GN!Reader(no pronouns mentioned), Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmo, Beel, Belphie, Barbatos

Authors Notes: hi there! i'm so flattered you love my writing, it means a lot! and dw I saw your other ask, so you're all good no worries about verification. nonnie, I'll do you one better and I ended up writing all the bros plus barbs as a bonus lol. enjoy!

nsfw under the cut! minors dni or i will block you :)

Reminder to abide by my guidelines for NSFW content tysm :]

Guidelines for NSFW Content [ ◇ ]

Lucifer [🦚💙]

Others keep occupying your time.

"Remind me again, who exactly do you belong to?"

Your moans are stifled as you press your face against the pillow. Lucifer's pace is relentless and although he can be rough in general, tonight feels different. There's something far more carnal and possessive in the way Lucifer thrusts into you. His movements are done so with reckless abandon, a stark contrast to how he usually takes you.

"Y-you Lucifer!" you gasp, body shaking from the intense pleasure coursing through your body. You yelp and moan out his name as he runs a hand through your scalp, pulling your face so that you're staring at him, his hands having a firm grip on your hair. "I can't hear you, louder," he commands you, your faces practically centimeters away from each other.

"You Lucifer!" you sob, feeling his large hand pressing into the small of your back, pushing you down against the mattress. Lucifer smirks, his other hand trailing down to your neck, holding you there firmly. "That's right my love, me. Not my brothers and certainly not that shady sorcerer," he practically spits out those last words. Lucifer's head falls back as he continues to thrust roughly into you, feeling himself close to his release.

You can feel yourself tightening around him, and you arch your back, body shaking as your orgasm washes over you. Lucifer lets out a low moan, making a few more shallow thrusts into you before spilling his seed into your hole. Chest heaving, he pulls out, watching with satisfaction as his release trickles out of you. Taking two fingers, he trails them up your inner thighs, causing you to jump from how sensitive you were after your high. Lucifer takes his fingers and takes the excess that spills out, prodding it back in.

"Keep that in there my love, it's proof that you're mine after all, if not, I'll have to punish you a bit more unfortunately. You can do that, can't you?"

Mammon [💰💛]

Someone thought flirting with you at the casino was a good idea.

"Dammit, you drive me crazy y'know?"

Your legs are currently wrapped around Mammon's waist, goosebumps littering your skin as you feel the wall against your back, your shirt long discarded. Your arms are wrapped securely around Mammon's neck for support. Mammon kisses you roughly, hungrily, as if he were scared of you running away or disappearing from right in front of him.

"That damn incubus," he hisses, pushing into you, "Thinking they have anything on the Great Mammon. You're my lucky charm, no one else's." His teeth scrape at your neck as he leaves mark after mark. You're pretty sure your back is rubbed raw from how fast and hard Mammon is thrusting into you, and your legs shake around Mammon's waist, but despite this Mammon holds you securely, his grip on your thighs giving you enough support.

"Mammon!" you whine, your hands tangled in his hair. Your face is pressed into the crook of his neck, and you can hear Mammon gasp, groan, and curse with each thrust he makes. Judging by how loud the two of you were being, you had no doubt that the entire casino knew that you were getting fucked hard by Mammon.

"You're mine alright? Mine, mine, mine, my treasure," he whispers in your ear, and he accentuates each of his words with a slap of his hips against yours. Your moans become louder and you can practically feel yourself on the verge of releasing onto him.

"Mine." And with one last word, Mammon makes one last thrust up into you, hitting your most sensitive spot and you practically go limp in his arms as your orgasm washes over you. Mammon's hips slowly still, and he checks over you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"I won't let anyone take you from me alright? Much less some random incubus who thinks they can steal my treasure from me."

Leviathan [🐍🧡]

You showed him your duo in an online game.

"Levi, they're just a friend!" You gasp softly as he pushes you into his bathtub, a pout on his face. Immediately, he presses himself up against you, rubbing his cheek against your exposed collarbone. "I don't care," he grumbles softly, one hand snaking up to pin your hands above your head, his other hand trailing underneath your shirt, caressing your sides. "I should be the only one to carry you, not anyone else. You're my player 2, my Henry," he nips at your shoulder and you shudder, feeling yourself grow aroused from the close proximity and from his touches.

"I don't care if they're ranked number one, I'll prove I'm better than them by beating them!" His pupils are dilated as he looks at you below him, and he can't help the sudden ache and the growing tent in his pants. Gasping softly, he starts grinding up against you, and you can't help but reach up for him, pulling his hips flush against yours, in search of some very much needed friction to relieve the tension you're feeling.

Both of your gasps can be heard, and you're pretty sure that if Levi didn't soundproof his room, anyone walking outside could probably hear just how heated the two of you were getting. You tighten your grasp on him, your hands snaking up to tug at the back of his hair cause Levi to moan against you as he kisses you roughly.

You stare up at him blearily, not even realizing when he shifted into his demon form. Shivering, one of your hands move from the back of his head, down to his abdomen and Levi jerks in your grasp, a flush painting his pale face.

"Do you know how badly I want you? Please don't give your attention to others, just stay focused on me."

Satan [😾💚]

Gets riled up because he sees Lucifer closer to you than he'd like.

Your chest heaves from exertion as Satan brings you to your umpteenth release. Your legs are shaking from overstimulation and you're pretty sure you've lost count of how many times Satan has made you come. His bangs stick to his forehead as he dives back between your legs, sucking marks along your inner thighs, his grip digging into the flesh of your thighs.

Your hands make their way to his hair, tugging on the golden strands and you feel Satan groan, his moans sending vibrations down your core. He looks up at you, pupils dilated. "Satan no more please! I can't take it anymore," you whimper softly, feeling tears prick at the edge of your vision. Satan only laughs looking up at you, using a hand to push his hair out of his eyes. "Nono, we're not finished yet," his voice is dangerously soft as he stares at you, body trembling underneath his gaze. His nose wrinkles and his eyes narrow as he pulls your bottom closer to him, once again positioning himself between your legs. "I can still smell him on you and I intend to erase every trace of Lucifer from you, from your mind, and from your body. Understand?"

You slowly nod, your thighs quivering either from anticipation or overstimulation, you weren't sure at this point anymore.

Satan smiles as he licks a stripe up where you're most sensitive, and your body jerks still sensitive from all your orgasming from earlier. You squirm to get your body away from him but his grip holds tight to you.

"Stay right where you are. I thoroughly intend to take my time with you tonight."

Asmodeus [💋🩷]

Your fans started getting too touchy with you.

Asmo isn't one to get jealous easily....not usually.

However, today was supposed to be about just you and him and it frustrated him to no end seeing your fans flock over to you, occupying all of your time. Asmo's eyes narrow as he watches them practically latch themselves onto you, and you barely pushing them away, laughing it off lightly. You're shocked by his sudden actions, grabbing your wrist and pulling you away from the crowd and down a secluded alleyway. His silence is rather unsettling, and there's a strange gleam in his eyes.

.....

"A-Asmo slow down!" You gasp out, feeling your back pressed against the wall, and Asmo's gaze trained on you, his hands sliding up your arms, pinning them above your head. You shiver, feeling his breath grace the outer shell of your ear, and you unintentionally tilt your head to the side, giving him more room to slot his face into your neck.

"Do you love me?" His question catches you off guard and you stare at him quizzically. "What? Of course I do." you frown slightly pulling on your hands, but Asmo holds your hands in place firmly. He presses his body against yours, and you gasp slightly, feeling his knee pressing against your crotch. "You sure seemed to be having fun entertaining those fans of yours. While I don't mind everyone fawning over you, today was just supposed to be about me and you was it not?" He has a slight pout on his face, lip jutting out.

You stare at him incredulously, eyes wide. If you were being honest, Asmo was adorable, especially with that little pout on his face. "It's not like you to be this jealous," you laugh a little, your face flushing. You feel him press your body more against the wall, and you have to suppress the urge to let out a moan as he continues grinding his leg against where you're most sensitive. His hand snakes past the waistband of your pants and you nearly keel over from his touch, leaning against him for support.

"I'm only like this for you, and no one else."

Beelzebub [🍔❤️]

His Fangol teammates were far friendlier to you than he'd like.

Your throat is sore, but that's a given considering you had spent the good part of the last few hours screaming out Beel's name, cheering him on after he scored point after point. What you certainly didn't forsee was you practically folded over one of the benches in the locker room, Beel holding one of your legs wide open as he thrusts into you roughly. The way you're positioned, if someone were to open the door to the locker room would end up seeing you sprawled out as Beel rammed himself against you.

"S-slow down Beel! It's too much!" Your head falls back, and you feel like you're being split apart by how big he is. Normally, Beel is much more gentle, taking his time with you but it seems that in the heat of the moment, he chose to forgo any sense of moderation.

"I don't like that my teammates got too close to you," he grunts, hips stuttering as he pulls you closer, his chest heaving from exertion. Ah that's right, he's referring to his teammates that immediately crowded around you to thank you for cheering so fervently for them. You remember the way Beel watched you from outside the crowd, his expression unreadable. You can recall conversing with his fellow teammates before feeling a pair of hands loop around your waist, pulling you towards them....which somehow led to the situation that you were currently in.

Beel's grip on your thigh is borderline painful, and you're sure that there'll be marks there come tomorrow from how roughly he's currently manhandling you. You reach up grasping at his arm, momentarily causing his movements to falter as he looks at you, temporarily shaken out of his frenzy. "Beel slow down please, I swear I only have eyes for you," you whimper softly, your legs shaking. His expression softens as he stares down at you, leaning over to press an apologetic kiss to your forehead. His motions are slower now, you notice, and there's a tenderness in the way he holds onto you now, one hand pressed against your waist, the other still holding onto your thigh but much less tight now.

"Sorry, you drive me crazy. I promise I'll make this up to you later."

Belphegor [🐮💜]

Your project partner was getting too buddy-buddy with you.

"Hahh, fuck you're so tight~"

Belphie practically hisses this in your ear as he sinks into you, bent over one of the desks in an empty classroom. The surface is cold against your front, your RAD uniform unbuttoned, and shirt pushed up as Belphie leans entirely against you. Your knuckles are white from how hard they're gripping the desk, meanwhile, Belphie has a good grasp on you from behind, his hand tugging at your scalp.

Your back arches as he thrusts into you, using your head as leverage, and you're pretty sure everyone outside has a pretty good idea of what's going on, based on how loudly the desk is scraping against the floor. Your gasp, shoulders hunched as you hold onto desperately to the desk. Belphie's tail flicks irritably as he watches your expression. "Enjoying this are you? Do you really like everyone outside knowing how I'm using you right now? Let them know how desperate you are for me to fuck you dumb like this. Go on, moan louder why don't you."

Your heart pounds in your chest and you let out shuddering breaths as Belphie's hips snap against you, hitting your most sensitive spots. He leans over, whispering in your ear, "The door's unlocked, and anyone could walk in right now and see the two of us like this. Are you getting off to this? To the idea of others seeing what a mess you are right now? Well, that's too damn bad because no one can have you like I can, and certainly not your project partner....what's their face?" He practically spits out, and you can feel the jealousy practically dripping off of him.

"Thinking they're better than me, too bad they'll never get the chance to see you like this. Oh well, you'll behave for me won't you?"

+ Bonus

Barbatos [⌛🖤]

The Young Master was occupying too much of your time.

"Apologies, I'm afraid I won't be able to restrain myself tonight."

You stare at Barbatos confused, watching as he approaches you at the foot of the bed, smoothly pushing you down in one swift moment with one hand. The other lifted to his mouth as he bites at the finger, and pulls it off just as swiftly. Your mouth is agape as he switches hands, holding you down with ease as he removes his other glove.

"As much as I'd like to thank the young master for consistently inviting you over for tea, I will admit there are times when it was just the two of us without his presence." His hands trail your figure, and you're not quite sure what it is about him tonight but he seems.....different. He's far more forward, taking the initiative rather than waiting for you to take the lead. You gasp as you feel his mouth on you, his teeth scraping along your neck. You gasp, leaning away so he has more room to do as he pleases.

"Barbatos-" He presses a finger to your lips, effectively shushing you. There's just something that turns him on so much, seeing you underneath him so helpless and pliant. His nose is wrinkled slightly as he gazes at you. You lay there, back arching as Barbatos has his way with you, cold hands caressing you, but not touching you where you ached for him the most.

"Hush now, let me take care of you, my love."

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