#Fill Cell With Text

[inkskinned]

it's easier to apply for jobs than ever! so what if you lost your insurance, anyone can get a job these days, even without meds. everyone is hiring! there's a "good employee" shortage!

well you just need to revamp your resume, here's a paid app subscription that can read it for you. rewrite the cover letter they won't read. google jobs in my area and then scrawl through Monster/Indeed/worbly. did you want to save the search? this was posted 98 days ago. over 1 billion applicants! this position is trending.

jobs i actively like doing and get paid for. your search returned no results. easy-apply with HireSpin! easy apply with SparkFire! easy apply with PenisFlash! with a few short clicks, get your information stolen.

watch out! the first 98 links on google are actually scams! they're false postings. oopsie. that business isn't even hiring. that other one is closed permanently. find one that looks halfway legit, google the company and the word "careers". go to their page. scroll past brightly-lit diversity stock photo JOIN US white sans serif. we are a unique, fresh, client-focused stock value capitalism. we are committed to excellence and selling your soul on ebay. we are DRIVEN with POWER to INNOVATE our greed. yippee! our company has big values of divisive decision making, sucking our dicks, and hating work-life balances. our values are to piss in your mouth. sign here and tell us if you have gender issues so we can get ahead of the sexual harassment claim. are you hispanic although let's be real we threw out the resume when we saw your last name.

sign up to LinkHub to access updates from this company. make a HirePlus account to apply. download the PoundLink app. your account has been created, click the link we sent you in 15 minutes. upload that resume. we didn't read the resume, manually fill in the lines now. what is your expected pay grade. oh actually we want hungry people, not people driven by a salary. cut a zero off that number, buddy, this is about opportunity, and we need to be thrifty. highest level of education. autofill is glitching. here is an AI generated set of questions. what is your favorite part of our sexy, sexy company. how do you resolve conflict. will you get our company logo tattooed on your person. warning: while our CEO is guilty of wage theft, we will absolutely refuse to hire a nonviolent felon.

thank you for your interest at WEEBLIX. we actually already filled this position internally. we actually never had that posting. we actually needed you to have 9 years of experience and since you have 10 years we think it might be too many? we'll be texting you. we'll email you. we'll keep your resume. definitely absolutely we won't just completely ignore you. look at your phone, there's already a spam text from Bethany@stealyouridentity. they're hiring!

wait, did you get an interview? well that's special, aren't you lucky. out of 910 jobs you applied to, one answered, finally. and funny story! actually the position isn't exactly as advertised, we are looking for someone curious and dedicated. it's sort of more managerial. no, the pay doesn't change - you won't have any leadership title. now take this 90 minute assessment. in order to be a dog groomer, we need you to explain cell biology. in order to be a copyeditor, write a tiny dissertation about the dwindling supply of helium on the planet. answer our riddles three. great job! we just need to push this up to Tracy in HR who will send it to Rodney who is actually in charge. and then of course it's jay's decision and then greg will need to see you naked and if you survive you'll be given a drug test and a full anal examination.

and of course you'll be hungry this whole time, aren't you, months and months of the same shit. months of no insurance, no meds, no funding, barely able to afford the internet and the phone and the rent - all things you need in order to even apply for our thing. but do it again! do it again and again and again, until you flip inside out and turn into a being of pure dread!

you're not hired yet because you're lazy. there's over one million AI-generated hallucinated jobs in your area. don't worry. with zipruiter, hiring and firing is easier than ever. sign up. stay on-call.

in the meantime, little peon - why don't you just fucking suffer.

[wirewitchviolet]

Sudokuvania: Digits of Despair is one of the most impressive works of pure game design I have ever seen.

Before I say anything else, I am going to be talking about a game that is VERY new and has pretty terrible search optimization, so in case this blog post somehow came up near the top of results for someone, here is the as-of-this-writing-current 1.02 release, and for good measure, here is the official FAQ page with the full version history, any future patches, and an FAQ for some of the more confusingly worded stuff that crops up later into the game. Now on with the praise-heaping!

So... Sudokuvania pretty much exactly what the name implies. It's a -vania, that is, a Metroidvania, and specifically one styled after one of the ones that's actually in the latter Castlevania series so that naming convention actually makes sense. Exploring a big castle, fighting bosses, getting various items letting you explore more areas, maybe breaking out of the borders of the map to find cool secrets here and there.

Also, it's a variant of sudoku. And I don't mean someone sat down with some videogame designing toolkit and made a videogame where some of the gameplay is solving logic puzzles on a grid you fill with numbers (I mean, I guess technically I do). I mean that link to the game I posted takes you to a website with a little built in standard app for solving sudoku puzzles and weird variations thereof, and the particular puzzle it's pointing to, somehow, manages to have a big map to explore, boss fights, special items that give you new powers, NPCs, and for good measure, fog of war. It is, again, an absolutely amazing hacky thing and I'm flabbergasted at how well executed it is. Now you're probably wondering how that even works, and that's why I'm writing this big gushy blog post. Here's what you see when you first load it up:

You're going to notice there is some absurdly small and kind of important text you can't possibly read, and that's because again, this is kind of a hacky thing this site so was not designed for. So it's kind of annoying but if you access this through the proper introduction page, it'll explain that the first thing you need to do is click the little gear icon in the floating tool palette, toggle on Visuals: Draw arrows above lines and Disable emoji replacement, then scroll all the way down to Experimental and turn on Test Large Puzzle UI. That enables you to zoom in and out with the scroll wheel, and right-click drag to pan around. It's... a little clunky because again, this website was NOT built for this, but tada, now you can zoom in, read the text, and start solving at a reasonable size. Then there's a couple gameplay concepts it does its best to explain, but... most people I've shown it to myself included needed extra explanation of a couple important early concepts. So let me just do a little color coding here to make this easier to get...

The map is not, in fact, one great big grid. It's 9 squares (and one rectangle that's not quite square over on the east side). Each of these is its own 9x9 Sudoku grid (well, the starting one is 6x6 and has those mutant 2x3 cells instead of the usual 3x3, and there's that weird eastern mutant). If you're solving stuff in one square, you completely ignore everything outside that square, except for where they overlap, in which case the numbers you're placing have to fit for both puzzles. So if we look at the light grey/green intersection on the left, those three overlap cells respectively can't be 4 6 or 5 (and whatever use you deduce in the grey box, but the pure green cells completely ignore all that, you're just focusing on the green 9x9 (which is going to have the overlap as a starting point, naturally).

The next bit that through me off a ton is the way fog of war works. Let me reasonably zoom in and do a little solving here. One second...

Here's the whole starting area all marked up to hell like you do when you're kinda bad at Sudoku and don't know how to spot a starting point. Penciling in little numbers in the corners. You'll also notice a that... most of the map is covered in this dark grey fog of war. A lot of in-game stuff mentions that you shouldn't go clicking out into the fog of war, because it'll show you names of later areas and preview certain special rules and all, but that's talking about clicking WAY off from what you can see. You are 100% allowed to solve stuff out in the fog of war, and it's pretty stingy about de-fogging. Don't go blindly guessing because then you can maybe end up sequence breaking but... yeah. Sorry I'm spoiling the Front Gate, it's basically the tutorial though. Anyway, first move is obvious, only one place we can put that 6, and suddenly...

Tada, important space so it rewarded us with a little fog clearing. You can also see that this will handily point out stuff in your pencil notes that can't be true, but only if A- it's untrue for standard sudoku reasons not special stuff, and B- it's not in the fog of war (or on the other side of some. You also maybe noticed that weird green thing under that first hint 6? That's something we need a tool for, you don't worry about it until you have that tool. Solving this out some more...

Little more de-fogging, both of the puzzle area and the margins where we're getting new information on playing the game in general. Now right here if you're observant, you'll see that bottom right corner has to be a 6. It's out in the fog of war, but you can mark it if you know what it is. And...

I was cropping it out before but the big purple number pad is always floating off to the side there, and the green text box over it, which among other things has an area name and flavor text for whatever grid you're in. This won't ALWAYS happen when you place numbers in fog of war, but there was a trigger on this 6 to load in a little piece of the first real area, and oh hey, we unlocked "Guide THERMO!" That's our first tool, and it's described up in the upper left.

So tada, from here out in addition to standard sudoku stuff, you've got these "bronze Guide THERMOs" that show up here and there and have this extra rule. You basically never get free numbers in the grid past the Front Gate, it's all slow-marching into new areas using what you're bringing in plus some easy starting examples of how your new tools work, plowing on from there. The fog of war is pretty stingy but it keeps you focused. You'll also notice the rules here mention bosses, all the 9x9 ones have one. It's clearly marked, and you should PROBABLY expose it from the fog first, but any time you're in the area really you, if you scroll around in that green text box or hit the rules button when in a grid, there's a link you can click to go fight it. The boss fights are all separate puzzles (site's good about auto-saving so don't freak out if it takes over your tab and you have to hit back after). These are very themey, sometimes VERY evil (especially boss #1, feels a bit overtuned) self-contained 9x9 puzzles, probably using the same tools their area is themed around, and I don't think there's a single pre-placed number in any of them. Beat the boss puzzle, it gives you some flavor text and a number to place in its cell back in the main castle puzzle, plug that in and you're always going to unlock something cool. Usually a new item, sometimes other weird stuff, and it just goes on like that.

Don't expect to be able to fully solve a given grid in one go. It's a Metroidvania, backtracking is expected. Even if you've fully de-fogged a grid, later stuff might reward you by straight up adding new symbols you couldn't see before or doing weird stuff with fog. It IS all solvable with pure logic... but there ARE a few places that do that thing I hate in tougher sudokus where you just kinda have to pencil in in a different faction and explore 2 possible futures for a bit to see which eventually contradicts itself. And of course the last couple of grids do some really evil mind-bendy stuff.

But yeah aside from a couple gripes where the way a tool works could maybe be a lot more grammatically clear, that first boss being a lot to deal with as you're first getting your feet wet, and a particularly cruel twist later on, I don't really have any complaints. Well, it might need a cool soundtrack. Maybe play some Castlevania music. Maybe switch it up for some real proper boss music when you're nearing victory.

Again I am just completely blown away that someone made something so meaty in a standard sudoku site's normal UI, and really managed to make it feel so much like playing a DS Castlevania. Some real proof of game design being an art form here. And now you too can just completely lose a day or two to it!

[jo-com]

₊˚🍰₊ ⊹ ➛ Voicemails

Lando Noriss x Ex!Fem!Reader

୨ৎ Summary: A series of voicemails Lando left in the quiet aftermath of your breakup —

୨ৎ Genre: Post- Breakup, Angst

୨ৎ Note: Been wanting to write again so here it is! Not proof read and there are some grammatical errors. Hope y’all enjoyyy

ARCHIVES ⭑.ᐟ

Voicemail 1: Hey baby…i uhm just wanted to check up on you. I know that we agreed on not calling or texting each other but fuck i miss you so much, I regret ever hurting you like that.. please call me back, love you always.

Voicemail 2: Sooo, i was buying these snacks for me and then I saw your favorite food and just.. it reminded me on how much you like eating them and out of habit I picked it up and bought it hahaha… Just wanted to share this, sorry for disturbing you.

Voicemail 3: I know i promised to stop doing this and just move on, you've just been on my mind lately... [sigh] why am i doing this to myself.

Voicemail 4: Hey… I drove past your street today. I wasn’t planning to, it just… happened. Funny how everything reminds me of you, even when I’m trying not to look. Anyway… I hope you're okay. That’s all.

Voicemail 5: It’s late. I couldn’t sleep again. I keep reaching for you in my dreams, and waking up to nothing. I know this is selfish — I’m sorry. I just needed to feel like you were still out there, even if you’re not mine anymore.

...

A long and deep breath left pass your lips— hearing his voice and the things that came out of it made your heart ache even more. The hurt and feeling of loneliness was still evident from the way you've isolated yourself from everything.

You wanted nothing more than be freed from this torment of hearts and just block him all together but at the same time you were holding onto something that you knew was never going to be the same again.

The tears you never even noticed was now sliding down your cheeks, "Fucking hell" you mumbled under your breath.

You quickly wiped it away— not letting yourself show any vulnerability or any kind of weakness.

...

Voicemail 6: I saw your favorite movie on TV tonight. I almost texted you to tell you, like I used to. It’s stupid, I know. You’re not waiting for my messages anymore… but I guess some part of me still is.

Voicemail 7: Do you ever miss me? Even for a second? I keep asking myself that, like the answer will change something. I don’t even know why I’m leaving this. I just— I miss who we were.

...

After hearing the last message he sent, every being in your whole body was screaming to just answer him, but like they say “The heart wants what it wants, but the mind knows what it needs.”

...

Voicemail 8: I saw this coffee place you would’ve loved — all moody lighting and weird art. I almost took a photo to send you. [chuckles] Old habits, I guess. Anyway, I didn’t. Just thought you’d find that funny. Or maybe you wouldn’t. I don’t know. Doesn’t matter.

Voicemail 9: Do you ever feel like you made the right choice, but it still hurts like hell? That’s where I’m at. We ended for a reason... I just wish reason didn’t feel so empty.

...

You've contemplated for a while now and decided to call him back. With shaky hand you went to your contacts and saw his number that was pinned at the top— you forgot you ever did that, it was a long time ago but i guess you just got used to it and forgot along the way.

Every cell of your body was now filled with adrenaline, heart beating so fast, hands shaking abruptly and your chest heaving like crazy, as if you were but to explode with this overwhelming feeling.

The long silence filled your empty room, it was defining to say the least.

With a deep sigh, you finally gathered all your strength and pressed the call button. Your legs bouncing of the ground as you waited for him to pick up.

"Y/n?" he spoke— answering on the first ring.

You hesitated on speaking and was just focused on his voice that was calling out to you. You can practically hear the excitement and confusion on his tone.

You let out a lengthy cough that hid your shaking voice and finally answered him. "Hey..uhm I just called to say that you should stop with the voice messages."

Everything became silent for awhile, it was eating you up to say those words but you two needed to stop torturing one another and just move on.

Lando sighed deeply, "oh okay sorry to bother" and hanged up.

It left you broken— hearing his voice crack from your words. You never wanted this but was for the best.

Or so you thought.

You spent your whole day reliving the conversation, it just bugged you that it crushed him. You’ve decided to just go with the flow and fuck whatever your mind says— your heart clearly belonged with his so what the hell.

...

NOTIFICATION

1 Unheard Voice Message from My girl💞

"Hey Lan… I don’t even know if you’ll listen to this. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t. But I need to say this. I know we ended things, and maybe we both thought we were doing the right thing at the time. But looking back, it feels like we got caught up in something we didn’t fully understand. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t care. That was never the case. I’ve heard every voicemail you left. Every word. I couldn’t help it. I just needed to hear you, even if it was through all that distance between us. I miss you, Lando. I miss what we had. I don’t want this misunderstanding to be the end of us. If you’re willing, I want to try again. I want to fix this. I just need you to know that. Call me back, Okay?"

[lay-z]

Simon 🤝 forced orgasms

Given his violent canon background, I’m not sure how I feel about “forced” anything and “Simon/Ghost” in the same sentence—especially not him doing it to you, but how about some good ‘ol overstimulation and premature ejaculation instead, hm? :)

Synopsis: Simon comes home from a mission and needs you to take care of him.

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x gn!Reader

Warnings/Info: 18+ MDNI | established romantic relationship; domesticity; cussing; smut; cum eating; praise kink; aftercare/fluff

It is early evening, when the front door opens and closes again, and you can breathe a heavy sigh of relief—air that feels like you’ve been holding inside your lungs forever since he left for another deployment.

Simon has kept you up to date since he had cell service again, stuck far away in a foreign country and waiting for a plane home; informing you of a mission done, no major injuries, no need to worry, a rushed few texts.

couple more hours luv

give o take

dont stay up fr me

i love you

You’re curled up on the couch, barely paying attention to one of the comfort shows you’ve been re-watching for days now, rather listening to his heavy duffel bag hitting the floor, his muffled grunts and groans as he makes his way down the hallway towards you—not running towards him, flinging yourself into his arms like you used to in the beginning of your relationship, knowing how anxious your excitement has always made him back then.

No, you let him come to you; dragging his sore legs into the living room and making your heart skip several beats when he pulls his balaclava off with a soft sigh as soon as he approaches the couch, leaving his dishwater blond hair dishevelled and crazy, short strands sticking to his sweaty forehead, the buzzed undercut he’d left with now growing out once more.

There’s a lot of non-verbal communication going on as soon as he sinks down into the cushions next to you—leaving an arm’s length of space between the two of you, not wanting to soil you with his stank and muck (his bygone words not yours) as he leans back, head tipping back against the backrest with a low groan, tawny eyes fluttering closed with exhaustion.

He falls asleep within seconds, your quiet presence enough to calm his mind and ease some of the tension, and soon enough his snores fill your ears, making you feel lighter, an adoring smile ghosting over your lips.

You let him sleep on the couch; adjusting his position with practiced manoeuvres, so his neck won’t get stiff. He merely grumbles some gibberish under his breath while you take off his boots and strip off his combat fatigues—to make him more comfortable and do first damage control, tracing fading bruises, green purplish-blues, dotting his pale skin—a Dalmatian pup getting its first spots, though this is way less pleasing.

Still better than a gunshot wound, broken bones or some gnarly cuts.

At 2:39 in the morning, you’re awakened by the sound of the shower stream turning on in the ensuite bathroom, and for a moment you consider joining him before rolling over, stretching with a yawn and deciding against it.

Simon will come to you when he’s ready, and he does not shortly after, drawn to you like an invisible force in the dark; mattress dipping under his weight as he slips underneath the preheated covers—thanks to you.

His skin is still slightly damp, towelled off in a rush, and he’s completely nude when he finally curls himself around your body, spooning you from behind and pulling you impossibly close.

And he knows you’re still awake, when his rough palm snakes under the front of your sleepshirt to press flat against your thudding heartbeat. His breath is minty with freshly scrubbed teeth, a cool puff against the back of your neck, when he brushes his lips over your skin.

“Missed you, pet,” he murmurs gravelly, nosing along your rapidly thrumming pulse point. “Always miss ya s’bloody much.”

As if to underline his whispered confession, he grinds his pelvis against your clothed ass, and you can feel how hard he is already—how hard he’s been since boarding the bloody plane back home. It sparks your own body with buzzing arousal and skin-crawling need—a need to assure yourself that he really made it home safe.

Rolling around in his embrace, you face him in the darkness of your shared bedroom, barely able to make out the silhouette of his chiselled features and massive frame.

“I missed you, too, baby.” You stroke your palm over his pecs, feeling a tuft of coarse chest hair. “So much.”

His skin twitches at the gentle contact, squishy muscles flexing and firming under your fingertips, rough breath stuttering in his throat when you lightly pinch and tug on a tiny nipple.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groans, “don’t you fuckin’ stop.”

He rests his forehead against yours; breaths mingling hotly as you slot your leg between his muscular thighs, and Simon knows the drill—starts humping your own thigh slowly, his weeping cockhead leaving a sticky trail of precum on your flushing skin.

The covers rustle when his hand grips your waist, fingers dipping below your underwear with increasing urgency to feel your flesh give under his fingertips when he gropes and squeezes.

“Touch me, pet,” Simon grunts, chapped lips brushing over your temple as he speaks, and it’s more a desperate plea than anything else while his prick leaks heavily. “Need t’feel ya.”

You capture his lips in a slow kiss, tongue delving into his needy mouth, and you feel his heart slam against his ribcage before you caress your hand along his torso, down the planes of pudge-covered muscle and scar tissued skin—to cup his heavy sac, full of cum, and feel his hips jolt with a sharp gasp.

“Ngh, please–!” His jaw clicks when his teeth grit together; buff chest heaving with a deep inhale. “Won’t last, lovey, not ah–fuck–not like this–”

“I know, baby,” you coo, “–‘s okay.”

The covers slip and lift as he squirms and the scent of his arousal hits your nostrils—clean skin, fresh linens, and the heady musk of his cum—making your head spin and your own desire pool deep and searing in your guts.

When you do finally swipe your thumb over his sensitive, drooling slit, you bring your fingers back up to lick at the milky essence coating your fingers with a pleased hum before slipping them past his lips, feeling his slick tongue swirl around your digits as you press down on sharp-edged teeth and silky gums.

A guttural moan is muffled and it dissolves into a low whine while he swiftly pulls you closer against the length of his body; hand fisting into the back of your shirt with growing desperation, bed rocking as he ruts against your thigh more fervently while his thick cock drags along supple skin, his ruddy, swollen tip nudging against your soft abdomen.

You keep your fingers in his mouth, his strong jaw slack and relaxed now—a loving handler trusting its feral dog to not get mauled—while he drools steadily, spit trickling down your wrist.

His hips stutter, thrusts faltering, and Simon cums with a broken string of whimpers and moans; panting while his fat prick gushes a generous load against your stomach that soaks into the old fabric of your shirt—his shirt—painting your skin where he’d rucked it up to feel you.

It’s a warm, sticky mess, one that will surely dribble down into the sheets if you’re not careful, and it goes on for a moment; cock throbbing and spurting cum that he couldn't get rid of for days, his balls pulsing as the pressure and frustration finally eases some.

You pull your fingers out only to cup his face and seal his wet lips with yours, kissing him with unbridled passion as you rub your thigh against his spend cock, feeling it twitch as his whole body shudders with aftershocks.

“Fuck… fuck, I needed that,” he mutters against your lips, his voice wrecked and hoarse now.

“I know.” Your eyes flutter closed with a soft smile, emotionally satisfied and fuzzy inside, while Simon peppers your face with saccharine kisses, nuzzling into your hairline, hands roaming greedily to explore the curves of your pliant body, branding the feeling of you in his arms into the crevices of his brain like countless times before.

“Gonna make it up to you, pet,” he grumbles, cheeks flushed under his stubble. “Jus’… gimme ten minutes.”

[xneens]

just a friend

he’s just a friend … but.

He’s just a friend, but he sleeps over almost every night. Whether you’re begging him to stay the night because you need a pillow or angry with him for insulting your friends, he’s there on your bed, substituting as a body pillow. No matter what position you fall asleep in, you always wake up draped across his chest, face nuzzled against the crook of his neck.

He’s just a friend, but he spoils you constantly. He gifts you a diamond tennis bracelet when your cat dies, hoping to cheer you up. He buys a convertible when you finally get your driver’s license, grinning when he sees your gleeful face. He showers you with your favorite flowers when get into your dream college. He buys whatever you look at when you take him shopping, repaying him with a kiss on the cheek, and it’s enough for him.

He’s just a friend, but you’re his only soft spot. Everyone else walks on eggshells around him, worried about being in his warpath. Even his own family wasn’t an exception to his hostility, especially after he stopped trying to win his dad’s approval. He does everything you want him to because why wouldn’t he? Hold your bag? No problem. Pick you up from a party? His pleasure. Stop being a rich, egotistical asshole? For you and you only.

He’s just a friend, but he’s your date to every formal and informal function. It’s just easier that way, you both explain to your friends. Midsummer’s preparation goes smoother when you already have a date, someone who will dance with you without complaint, someone who’ll make fun of whatever headpiece Rose is wearing, and someone who’ll sneak out early to drive their dad’s boat to another island.

He’s just a friend, but he knows everything about you. He comes with you to the doctor, dentist, and gyno visits for moral support, sometimes going in the room when needed. You had brought up being codependent but he quickly waves it off. He’s stocked a drawer in his bathroom with tampons and pads, and a few bottles of Tylenol in case you get your period on the nights you stay at Tanneyhill. He carries a cooler filled with water in his car because he knows you hate the intense heat. He wears an extra pair of sunglasses tucked in his shirt for you when you both go to the beach because you always manage to forget yours.

He’s just a friend, but his family thinks you’re dating. Sarah keeps asking you if you are, hoping to drag the truth out. You tell your friend no, laughing at the thought. Ward sits him down to talk after catching him admiring you during breakfast. He stays silent. Rose questions you about what she should give Rafe for his birthday, thinking the same as her husband. You laugh again at the thought, not noticing the way his jaw clenches when you make fun of the idea.

He’s just a friend, but he hates it when guys flirt with you. You’re too pretty to be entertaining guys who are far below you. He strains a muscle from resisting the temptation to punch the man standing too close to you, bicep veins popping out from the resistance. He drags you away when the guy tries to cage you against the wall, making up an excuse, needing help with containing a drunk Wheezie.

He’s just a friend, but he can’t go a minute without thinking about you. When life separates you, despite Rafe’s plans to be at your side twenty-four-seven, he texts you. He ignores Topper and Kelce’s snickers as he pulls his phone out during a round of golf, taking a picture of the sunset to send to you. His friends’ teasing is worth it when you text him back, telling him how much you like his improving photography skills.

He’s just a friend, but he can’t fight the urge to attack the guy kissing you. He blacks out, rage consuming every cell in his body as he breaks the man’s nose and grasps his throat until his hands leave bruises. His brain doesn’t focus until you’re back in his line of sight, blue eyes meeting yours. Despite the man coughing on the ground, surrounded by concerned partygoers, you pay no attention to the injured, instead, pulling Rafe away before yelling at him in his room.

He’s just a friend, but he’s at your door with flowers, apologizing. He stammers out an apology because he was never good at them, and never had the maturity to admit he was wrong and beg for forgiveness. When you stare at him with a blank look, he gets desperate, taking your hands in his and slowly dropping to his knees, eyes pleading with you. He promises to never get that violent again, and you believe him because Rafe Cameron could never lie to you.

He’s just a friend, but he kisses your forehead every night after you fall asleep, waiting for you to doze off before doing so. He presses his lips to your head, warmth in his heart as it yearns for yours.

He’s just a friend, but he wants to be more.

[satorusugurugurl]

I love your work so much! I always read it every time you post !! Can I make a request on how JJK men would react to their girl having a voice kink?? It would be insane 😭😭 Thank you so much!!

Voice Kink?!

Summary: JJK men, find out about your voice kink 🥴

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Choso Kamo

Word Count: 4,242

Warnings: smut, public play, dirty talk, oral sex, N-Nanami’s stern voice, whimpering, lots of moans and language

A/N: As someone with a voice kink, I loved this nonnie. 🥴 love it, unekfkrkdkdm moan in my ear talk dirty to me! 🌶🌶🌶 please enjoy!! 💚

Gojo Satoru:

Gojo yawned as he opened the door to the condo you shared. It was in the late evening, and from the smell of cooked food, he knew you were home. He didn't even bother calling out that he was home, as he'd just texted you in the lobby that he was on his way up. What mattered to him now was taking off his uniform and a hot shower.

Approaching the bedroom, Satoru rubbed at the stiffness in his neck before a groan from the bedroom sounded. A groan that was deep, guttural, and not him. Before he could storm in, another voice sounded, a woman that wasn't you. And it was narrating? Peeking his head in, he watched you folding clothes, your cell phone on the nightstand playing an audiobook.

‘I approached the god of war, gently touching his chest.

‘Stop!’ he shouted, ‘If you don't get out of my sight, I will fuck you’

Satoru blinked, goddamn that male actor was playing the part well and snarling and growling in a deep guttural moan. The narrator went on to describe in detail how the male character was fucking the main heroine. You seemed unfazed by it, folding some of Gojo’s blindfolded and placing it to the side.

‘Your tight cunt is hugging my cock’ The male narrator announced, causing you to stiffen. ‘Do you like that~ hmm? Like when I fuck you, stuff your pussy full of my dick?’

You shifted, rubbing your thighs together, breath coming out in soft gasps as you glanced at your phone. Satoru knew what was going on with you instantly. You were wet. His sweet, innocent girlfriend was wet over a man’s voice growling and groaning, which left him feeling jealous and horny. Do you like it when people groaned and growled? Using their voice to describe what they were doing.

Satoru could easily do that.

You shifted again, whimpering softly before a large hand grabbed the back of your neck. You squeaked as you were bent over the bed, another hand yanking your shorts down. Turning slightly, you stared at Satoru, who was unzipping his pants.

“Satoru, what are you—”

“I'm just going to stuff this pretty cunt full of cock.” he growled, leaning down, rubbing the tip teasingly over the folds of your pussy. “You’re already soaking wet.” His voice vibrated in his chest as he leaned over your body, his mouth against the nape of your neck. “Does hearing someone talk nasty get you dripping? It makes that tight hole throb, begging to be filled and pleased?”

His breath was hot against your skin, sensing a shiver down your spine. “T-Toru~” You felt a slick running down your thigh as Satoru began grinding his cock over your tight entrance.

“The fact that your cunt is drooling all over my fat cock confirms that my sweet girlfriend is secretly a slut.”

“I-I—”

“You what? Go on,” he learned next to your ear, growling into it, causing goosebumps to rise down your arms, “speak up.”

You rocked back, pushing the tip of his cock inside you, causing Satoru to moan. “Yes, yes, I like it when you talk nasty.” your boyfriend laughed out loud, his cock sliding inside of you.

“Good fuckin’ girl~” The bed creaked, freshly folded clothes falling to the ground. “Fuck~” he groaned into your ear, “fucking yes~ mhmm what did that character say~?” your walls clenched, “ ‘Your pussy is hugging my cock~’?”

“Ngggh!” you cried out, fisting the comforter, eyes rolling back as your walls twitched in happiness at his voice. “T-Toooru!”

“No, he said something else that made you rub your legs together.” His teeth grazed over your earlobe. “What~?” Thrust. “Was~?” you cry out, eyes rolling back. “It~?” Satoru shoved his entire cock into you, humming in pondering thought. You were cock drunk, drool pooling underneath you as you panted. “Oh, right!” He pulled out before slamming back in with a snarl. “Something along the lines of—do you like it when I fuck you.” His mouth was against your ear again. “Stuff, you pretty pussy full of my cock?”

It was a combination of the thrusts and his words that had you cumming, legs shaking, buckling as you gushed all over him. Seeing you cum that hard had Satoru laughing in satisfaction as you twitched and tried pulling away from the oversensitivity of just how hard you had cummed. Satoru tilted his head, pouting in faux concern as you tried to stand.

“Awe~ was that too much for my sweetheart to handle~?” Crawling onto the bed, you shook your head with heavy gasps. “Noo~? Oooh, my little slut wants more~?”

“Fuck me~ fuck me, please!” you were so wet and horny, and Satoru just made one of your fantasies come try in a matter of seconds. “Please, Toru! Please!”

“Well, how could I deny my pretty girl when she begs so pretty~?” you glanced back, watching him strip down to nothing. “Face down, baby~ I'm gonna fuck you stupid~”

Geto Suguru:

You were a little buzzed, and your husband was soooo hot. So, of course, you were feeling more than a little needy. You were pulling him down a dark hallway away from the bustling party you were at. He inhaled sharply as you pushed him up against the wall.

“Just what do you think you're doing~?” he questioned in a low, sultry voice, sending shivers down your spine. “Princess?”

“Need you~” you cooed, dipping your hand into his black jeans, smirking as he inhaled. “Need you so bad, Sugu~.”

He groaned deep in his chest, the sound going straight to your pussy. “Princess~ we can't right now~ not right here.” He tilted his head back briefly, watching you blatantly disobey him. Your fingers played with the band of his boxers, causing another hiss to leave his lips. “Princess—”

His tone was much more stern now, leaving you a wet mess. Your husband watched you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling down with a whine. He hummed, cocking an eyebrow as your hand stilled, thighs clenching together. That was a peculiar reaction. Suguru hadn't even said anything remotely dirty, yet here you were, rubbing your thighs together with flushed skin.

“What was that reaction?” he asked with a smug smirk. “Huh, did you like me growling? Being stern?” His hand shot down, grabbing your wrist and pulling it out of his boxers. “Is my pretty princess wet over the sound of my voice?”

“W-What—no! I am not!” you denied, despite your sticky arousal coating your lips and panties.

“Oh, is that so?” Suguru moved, slamming you against the opposite wall. “Then you wouldn't mind me checking, would you~?” he purred, leaning next to your ear.

You tried to keep your composure, tried to maintain the little dignity you had. But Suguru groaned in your ear, a deep guttural sound that had you melting like chocolate. A shaky sigh left your lips as he slid his hand up your skirt, fingers brushing over your unsurprisingly soaked panties.

“Ooh~ so not only are you a horny little slut. Getting off to the groans and breathless words leaving her husband's lips.” he pressed his index and middle finger over your clit, rubbing it slowly. “But you're also a liar~”

“N-No, I-I ahh~ ah fuck—” Geto smirked, “I-I am not.”

“Oh, but you are.” Fingers are hooked under your panties, pulling them to the side. “I asked you point blank if you were wet.” A single finger slid into your soaking cunt, “you said no~” his finger hooked around your g-spot, rubbing it fast; your arousal was wet squelching sounds. “And listen, you can hear~” Suguru purred, hot breath moving strands of your hair. “Just how fucking wet you are.”

“F-Fuck—“ your voice cracked, fingers fisting into his dress shirt. Suguru admired the helpless whines you were attempting and failing to hold back. “Oooh fuck~ oh fuck, fuck.” Now, Suguru wasn’t a sadist, but you were trying so hard to keep quiet, and he wanted to hear you break.

He was doing what any good husband would do. Slamming his fist against the wall next to your head, he increased his speed. “Mmmm~ nnngh fuck~” he groaned right into your ear, making you shiver in turn. “Ah~ fuck so wet~ so fucking wet and tight~ my princess is going to cum~ during a work party. Nasty little girl~” You threw your head forward, burying it in his chest.

“S-Suguru—I’m go-gonna cum.”

“No, you aren’t. You’re going to squirt.”

“S-Sugu!” Your walls clamped around him as he put more pressure on that spot you loved.

“Are you gonna scream for everyone to hear?.” With a curt nod, your mouth opened to do so. This won you a glare from your husband. “Oh, no, the fuck you aren’t!” His snarl, the way he possessively smothered your screams with his mouth in a dominating kiss.

You came hard, body convulsing as you squirted. Suguru was swallowing your moans as he helped you ride out your orgasm. It isn’t until you’re literally leaning all of your weight against your sturdy husband that he pulls his drenched fingers out of you. A devilish smile is plastered against his face as he sticks his fingers in his mouth, licking them clean.

“S-Sugu, fuck—“ Is all you can manage to breathe out, fisting his shirt.

“Done lying~?” His tone is condescending as he helps steady you, grabbing your arm and looping it in his. “You most definitely got off to the sound of my voice.”

“Yep.”

Your husband stops and stares down at you. The faintest hit of a smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Ooh oh, so now that you’ve cum you’re able to answer?” Rubbing your face against his arm, you let out a happy whine of confirmation. “Oh, I hope you’re not too tired.” His voice is suddenly against your ear as he leans down. “Because I can use my mouth in a merit of ways other than talking my slutty wife.”

You left the party without telling anyone where you were going. But when you came back in on Monday, the bite marks were all they needed to see. You and Suguru had your very own after-party, one that was one million times better than the stuck-up work party had been.

Nanami Kento:

“Jujutsu Sorcerers are shit!” You stood to the far side, watching your boyfriend talk amongst Gojo and Itadori.

The young man was stunned, speechless, jaw-dropping eyes wide as a little “Huh?” Sounded from him.

“Then I worked for a typical company, and one thing I learned.” You focused on your boyfriend, who crossed his arms over his chest. His broad muscles strained against the tight-fitted tailored suit he was wearing. But it wasn’t the suit that was causing heat to pull between your legs. “Is that working is shit!”

Nanami was so damn hot when he raised his voice so suddenly like that. You listened to him ranting about how he picked the lesser of two evils while you were debating on how to smuggle him away. You had to give him a smooch, gnaw on his chiseled cheek, rip all the fabric off of his body. If it weren’t for Gojo and Sukuna’s vessel being right there with Nanami, you would have begged for him to take you right there on the fucking floor.

Just as your dirty fantasy started to reel in your mind like a film being broadcasted on a projection screen, Nanami caught your attention with his words. “—please don’t believe that I’m not of the same mindset as Gojo. I do trust and have faith in him.” You felt sick at his praises for the man constantly getting under his skin and teasing you for dating Nanami.

“Ughhh-“ Your eyes narrowed as Gojo smirked, pleased with Nanami’s words. “Gag me with a spoon.”

“But I do not respect him!” Nanami roared, stern voice making you squirm as Gojo gasped in shock.

“Never mind, gag me with your cock.”

The second that Gojo left with Itadori, you went in for the kill. You snuck up behind your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to your height. He peered at you through his glasses, his eyes focused on yours as you ran your hand down, unbuttoning his suit jacket.

“What do you think you’re doing?” That same stern tone that had your legs shaking like Jell-O was thick As you trailed your delicate finger over his blue button-down shirt. “We’re on school grounds still.”

“Do I look like I give a fuck?”

Part of Nanami was curious to see what exactly you had in mind. Well, the other half of him, the half that liked rules and regulations as he had just told Itadori, had his hands gently grabbing your wrist, stopping you from moving forward. He might as well have thrown a bucket of ice water on you.

“Kento.” You fought against him, trying to unbutton the shirt that was constricting over his chest. “Let me touch you!”

“No, anyone could walk on us at any given moment, love.” You stomped your foot down, trying to free yourself from his grasp. “My god, what has gotten into you? Did you suddenly get hit with a curse when I wasn’t looking? One that makes it impossible for you to control yourself?”

There it was.

That stern, deep tone of his voice, the one that was laced with frustration and pent-up rage. The same tone that had you willing to do anything and everything for this man. If he asked you to suck his cock you would. If he asked you to marry him right at this moment, fuck yeah you would. He could even go as far as to ask you to have his babies, and you would still say yes as long as he continues talking to you in that tone of voice.

Denial would only get you so far in life. Sometimes, honesty was the best policy. He wanted to know what he got into you. You’d tell him to be upfront and honest. Perhaps in doing so, he would give you a reward. Reward him inside of you.

“I love hearing your voice.”

Nanami slowly reached up, removing his glasses. “You like hearing the sound of my voice?” Now that he was distracted, you slowly ran your hands back up, running them over his toned chest to where his abs were hidden under the fabric of his ironed shirt.

“I love it, especially when you get all angry~”

“Mmm, is that so?”

“Yeah~ what are your thoughts? Going to do with this information.”

Fucking you against one of the pillars is precisely what he did with the information. You tried to call out, but his hand clamped over your mouth. Only allowing his heavy breathing to fill the chamber you both occupied.

“You're nothing but a dirty slut.” He snarled, his hand clamping harder over you. “Getting off on my yelling? In front of one of my co-workers?” you nodded, eyes rolling back as Nanami slammed his cock against your g-spot. “So shameless, so dirty.” He held the same tone he had when speaking the Gojo and Itatori, and that just got you off even more.

“M-mmmphm!” you cried out softly.

“You better not get any of your arousal in my suite. Do you understand love? I don't want to leave here with wet pants.”

That was a lot for him to ask, especially when he was slamming over and over against your g-spot. He knew you would squirt all over him if he did this. But part of you was eager to see what he would do if you blatantly disobeyed him.

“Mm! Mmhn!” you cried out, doing your absolute best to rock against him, to stimulate your g-spot even more. “Nnngh!”

“What's this?” Nanami purred, pulling back just a bit to watch your feeble attempt atfucking yourself harder against his cock. “Trying to cum? I recognize how you’re rolling your hips.” he pressed his forehead against yours, eyes gleaming behind the green spectacles on his face. “Trying to hit that sweet spot? The same spot that makes you squirt.”

“Mhmm!” You proudly confirm his suspicions.

“Ah, I see.” he shrugged, “Fine, do what you want. Just be aware that there will be consequences if you disobey me.” He growled deep in his chest with a sinister smirk.

“M-mm?” You furrowed, not liking the tone of his voice now.

Nanami watched as you began, shaking your head, deciding that this might not be the best course of action. But your boyfriend decided that you had sealed your fate already. All he did was smile at you, a very sadistic, knowing smile.

“Ooh, please, by all means.” he slammed forward, gritting his teeth, “Let me help you~!”

The head of his cock slammed straight into your g-spot over and over. You couldn't help but scream as the pleasure was like lightning shooting through every nerve of your body; muscles spasmed as your toes curled; even when you withered and jerked, Nanami didn't once remove his hand.

“Work is shit,” Nanami’s hot breath fanned over your ear, “Jujutsu sorcerers are shit.” his voice was so deep, so full of rage, that you found yourself longing for him to direct at you. Because damn beautiful voice, how do you sing star. “But you, god fuck, you are the embodiment of everything good in this world. You make it possible for me to continue putting up with all the shit we go through.” with a whimper, your eyes focus on his hidden behind the green lenses of his glasses. “You make life special.”

With his words and his words alone, he made you cum untouched. Nanami did not need to play with your clit, or move his hips in a certain way. Just hearing him speak to you the way he was had broken you. Your scream was muffled by his hand, your head tilted back as your eyes rolled into your skull, and unfortunately, you squirted all over his pants.

You barely had a chance to recover before Nanami was gently placing you on the ground. You leaned against the pillar for support as you owed your boyfriend’s gaze to look at the crotch of his pants. There was a specific look in his eyes, one that didn’t say he was disgusted or found the intensity of your orgasm to be distasteful. No, you knew the dark, hungry look in those brown honey eyes hidden behind the lenses. Nanami wasn't turned off; he was just getting started.

“Hmm, it seems you were incapable of following a simple command. Tsk,” he stuffed his wet cock back into his boxers before zipping up his pants. “I tried to warn you not to do what you did. Instead, you made quite a mess of yourself and me. I hope you’re ready to face the consequences when we return home.”

Your mind was willing, and so was your body. But you knew that once Nanami was done with you, you wouldn’t be able to walk. Honestly, it didn’t seem like much punishment but more like a reward. Or you would gladly get on your knees to receive.

Choso Kamo:

Out of all of the partners you had had in the past, none of them had been as quiet as Choso was. Your sweet, innocent boyfriend was constantly covering his mouth with both hands, holding back his moans. You had initially thought it was adorable, watching him biting down on his lip, covering his mouth, just holding back those sounds. What you had thought was cute had been driving you crazy.

You wanted to hear the sounds he made. You wanted to know how good you were making him feel. Did he feel good, or was he putting up with you for your sake? These thoughts often plagued your mind until the pressure was too much.

“I want you to moan!” You broke out, causing your poor boyfriend to drop the gallon of orange juice he held.

“W-What?”

“I said I want you to moan!”

“Right now? Like when we're not doing stuff?”

You scrubbed your hands down your face, shaking your head. “No! I mean, when we're doing stuff, Cho.” A faint flush dusted his pale cheeks. “I just—” you sighed, “sometimes I feel like I'm not doing a good job or that you're merely entertaining me. If you’re not enjoying yourself, I would feel terrible.” Your cheeks burned with embarrassment over your request. “I’m sorry, I just—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Choso rushed to your side, his arms wrapping around you. “You make me feel good. Really good.”

A surge of relief rushed through you. “O-Oh, okay. Then why are you so quiet?” Chosi stiffened, his whole face turning a deep shade of red as he looked away. “Cho?”

“I-I—-oud”

“Huh?”

“I-I’m too—” he mumbled again.

You sighed gently, grabbing his face. “Choso baby, I can't understand you when you mumble like that.” with a deep breath, Choso nuzzled his face into your palm.

“I’m too loud.”

His confession had you blinking in stunned confusion. Too loud? How did he know that? You were the first person he had ever been with.

“Who told you that?”

Choso looked as though he wanted to crawl under the couch. “Y-Yuuji, he said I was super loud. S-So I assumed that not everyone liked hearing people moan, so I try to stay quiet.” Everything made perfect sense now. You sighed happily, tilting your head back.

“Baby, there's nothing wrong with moaning when it's just us. But when you're alone, and Yuuji’s around, it's best to stay quiet during your uh—private time.”

There was a certain glint in his eyes, one that made your heart and pussy flutter. “Really?” You nodded slowly, dropping to your knees.

“Yep, now make some pretty sounds for me.”

Five minutes and a few reminders for Choso not to cover his mouth was all your sweet boyfriend needed to get into the mood. One hand held the crown of your head while the other gripped the counter in the kitchen. His eyes were focused on you while you stared up at him, trying to focus on him but fuck it was famn near impossible with how good he sounded.

“A-Ah! F-fuck!” he gritted his teeth, eyebrows furrowed as he whimpered. “Oooh fuck, fuck, fuckin’ so good!”

“M-mm.” Moaning around his cock you slid a hand into your shorts, gently rubbing your soaking pussy.

“Oh my god, oh my god~!” Choso cried out, his blush spreading down his neck to the tips of his ears. “Fuck! Y-Your mouth is s-so good!”

His voice cracked, it tucking cracked. Hearing that had you bobbing your head faster while you gagged down on his cock. Choso sounded so good, better than any porn or audiobook you'd ever listen to. You were going to have to beg for him to send you an audio of him jerking off because this was so fuckng hot!

“N-nngh! P-please,” he begged prettily, sending a chill down your spine. “Ooooh fuck please, can you go deeper?” the tentative tone had you fulfilling his request without a second thought. Relaxing your throat, you took him as deep as you could, only stopping as you gagged just a bit before repeating the action. “Ooooh~! Oh~ haaah!”

Your hand in your shorts moved faster as you continued deep-throating Choso without a second thought. Hearing his whines had you so wet you could feel the sweetness seeping into your pajamas. God, you wanted to destroy him, milk him dry, so that’s exactly what you would do.

“W-Waaa! Fuck! H-Honey, wait—” Choso's face scrunched in horny panic. “P-Please wait! Please, I-I’m g-gonna cum in y-your mouth!” What a sweet boy, trying to warn you when he didn't realize that's exactly what you wanted. Pulling your slick fingers out of your shorts, you used your wet fingers to caress and massage his balls gently. “Mnnngh!!” his hips bucked forward, both hands gripping the sides of your head as he began thrusting. “I’m sorry! I'm sorry! Too good!” your eyes watered, tears spilling out and running down your flushed cheeks. “I’m c-cumming! Oooh fuck~ ooooh fuuuuuck! Fuck! Fuck!!”

Thick hot cum fills your mouth and slides down your throat. You put in the best effort, trying to swallow it, but there was a lot. You yanked yourself back, gasping for air as cum, spit, and tears fell to the kitchen floor. You gasped, shifting as Choso cried out, stroking himself, milking the last of cum out against your lips. Leaving you a white messy scene.

“Oooh fuuuck~” Choso stumbled back with a grunt, leaning against the counter. “Ooooh my god, oooh god.”

“Choso.” Pushing yourself off the floor, you grabbed his hand. “Bedroom now.”

“O-Oh, okay.” he followed you without complaint.

“Ooh and Choso.”

“Ye—” he choked on his words as you sat on the bed, spreading your legs and revealing a large wet spot on your maroon shorts.

“Moan that loud in my ear~”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart

[kaiijo]

WORK WIFE — KUROO TETSUROU

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x fem! reader content: fluff, timeskip! kuroo (he’s so sexy)

you’re not really sure when kuroo started calling you his ‘work wife,’ but you honestly wouldn’t have it any other way. like many of your colleagues, you’ve been taken in by his teasing smile and charm and the way he brings you your coffee and bagel in the morning, just the way you like it. “good morning, wifey,” he says as he hands you your breakfast with a flourish. “vanilla latte with oat milk and an extra shot of espresso and a toasted everything bagel with cream cheese.” 

you smile and thank him, sliding the bagel out from the waxy paper bag. you glance back inside and sheepishly open your mouth but kuroo beats you to the punch. “and, of course, your stirrer.” he sticks his hand in the pocket of his slate gray slacks and produces a wooden stirrer. 

you chuckle, “you keep those in your pants just for me?”

“a gentleman always is prepared for a lady!”

“‘gentleman,’” you snort. 

kuroo presses a hand over his heart. “i am a gentleman through and through!”

“uh-huh, keep telling yourself that.” you take a sip of your drink. “but thanks again for breakfast.”

he pats your head and sings out, “anything for my favorite work wife!”

“i better be your only one!” he laughs loudly at your reply, the sound bouncing off the walls as he heads down the hall to his office. 

when lunchtime rolls around, kuroo, as usual, appears in your doorway with his lunch in hand. he never has the same thing, you’ve come to learn; today’s meal is grilled fish over rice, and kuroo asks, “up for a lunch date?”

you try to fight the warmth rising to your cheeks, still not used to his wording despite the many times he’s asked the exact same thing. you shake your head and sigh, “unfortunately, i’m behind on inputting the quarter two estimations so i think i’ll be working through lunchtime.”

kuroo still walks into your office and comes around to look at your computer screen. “have you been doing these all by hand?”

“yeah?”

“here, there’s an easier way to generate these estimates.” with a few clicks and keystrokes, you watch as numbers and figures fill the spreadsheet cells before your very eyes. you slump back in your chair, relieved. you glance up at kuroo. he’s so close that you can very clearly smell the way his cologne mingles with his minty toothpaste. your breath hitches as he stares down at you with pride. “you’re a lifesaver.”

“had to save my lunch time with my work wife.”

you stifle a yawn as you save your last pitch for the budget board and power off your computer. you looked out the window, the sun beginning to set on the horizon. you roll your chair away and stretch your hold body out, humming in relief as someone knocks on your door. it’s not hard to guess who it is. “come in.”

“hey,” kuroo pokes his head inside, blazer folded across his arm and his lanyard in hand. “ready to go?”

“yep, let me just get my stuff.” you gather your things and sling your bag over your shoulder, locking up your office and following kuroo out. you walk side-by-side in comfortable, tired silence until you get out of the building. “how was the merch presentation?”

“oh, it went really well,” he says. “thanks for letting me co-opt your time for rehearsal.”

“you know i always have time for you.”

kuroo gives you a smile that’s almost way too soft and sweet for you to handle, and you quickly avert your eyes to the street in front of you as you two come to the metro stop. he asks about how your younger brother is settling into college and you inquire about his grandparents, and it’s an endless stream of conversation as you two board the metro together. 

“oh,” kuroo says suddenly, voice shifting to a quieter tone. “i’ve been meaning to ask, do you want to—?”

you desperately want to hear the end of his question but you’re coming up to your stop and you have to hurry home to walk your dog. “sorry! text me the question?”

he shakes his head. “i’ll tell you later. see you tomorrow, wifey.”

you wave to him over the shoulder as the doors close behind you, and you’re left with a warm feeling in your chest and burning curiosity about what he’ll ask you. 

it’s the next day when your boss calls you into her office, asking you to let the newest employee to the sports promotion division shadow you for a little while until he gets the hang of what you guys do. his name’s nakamura eijun and he seems nice enough so you agree.

nakamura’s in your office as you go over how the jva’s filing and record-keeping online works when kuroo comes in with your daily breakfast. you sit up straighter, ready for him to finish whatever question he was about to ask. 

he stops short when he sees nakamura and asks, “new guy?” nakamura nods and introduces himself, to which kuroo responds with an enthusiastic “i’m kuroo tetsurou. welcome to the team!” and without your usual banter, kuroo drops off your bagel and coffee and leaves without another word. 

he peeks into your office again at lunch and you’re about to wave him inside, but he shakes his head and says, “i’ll come back later!”

he doesn’t. you don’t see kuroo for the rest of the day, which makes your heart sink. it’s the first time in months that he hasn’t followed the unconscious routine the two of your started. you try to look at the silver-lining. kuroo (and thinking about kuroo) is your main distraction of the day, so maybe it was a good thing he didn’t show up so you couldn’t make a fool of yourself. 

what unnerves you, though, is that the following days are much the same. kuroo silently brings you your breakfast and peeks in every now and then, smile never quite meeting his eyes as he sees you eating with nakamura in your office. the days stretch to weeks and you realize two things: one — that kuroo’s avoiding you, and two — nakamura’s a lot less capable than you thought he would be, given that he’s still shadowing you after about two and a half weeks. 

thankfully, you get a little reprieve when nakamura informs you that he’s out sick for the day. you perk up when kuroo comes in with your breakfast and give him your chirpiest “good morning.”

he leans up against your doorframe, glancing around. “your new work husband’s not here today?”

“what are you talking about?”

he says, “your new work husband. he have some emergency or something?”

you frown at his tone. “sorry, let me be more specific. who are you talking about?”

“nakamura,” he responds. finally, he crosses the threshold and hands you your bagel and coffee, the stirrer already inside the bagel bag. he plops down heavily in his chair, arms folded across his chest. 

“you know you’re my one and only,” you say, offering a smile. when he doesn’t reply, your smile fades and you ask, “why do you think he’s my new work husband?”

“he’s been telling everyone that you two spend so much time together that he might as well be.”

you can’t help but roll your eyes and you reach across the desk, tapping your hand on the surface to get kuroo’s attention. he finally meets your gaze and you say, “we’ve been spending a lot of time together because sakura asked me to let him shadow and he’s—” you lower your voice to a conspiratorial whisper, prompting kuroo to lean in closer, “—not very smart.”

“really?” 

you watch as the tension kuroo held in his shoulders disappeared and something like relief washed across his features. you can’t help but laugh a little, “really. is that what got you so grumpy these past few days?”

“hey!” he protests, “i wasn’t grumpy. pouty, maybe, but definitely never grumpy.”

“sure, sure.” you pause and then ask, “why were you so bothered by nakamura saying he’s like my work husband?”

kuroo’s face flushes and with an uncharacteristic shyness, he says, “because, y’know, that’s— that’s our thing. and i’m not too keen on letting someone steal my wife away.”

“good to know you’re a protective husband.”

he chuckles and says, “well, gotta get back to the trenches. those advertisement pitches aren’t going to pitch themselves.”

“don’t i know it.”

as he goes to leave, he hesitates in the doorway. then, he turns back to you and asks, “would you like to have dinner with me tonight? if you’re not doing anything, of course.”

your eyebrows raise but you can’t help the bright smile from breaking across your face. “yeah, that sounds great.”

a year and a half later.

nakamura and you are sitting in the conference room, brainstorming ways to help boost the sendai frogs’s popularity. nakamura taps his pen against his chin and suggests, “maybe we should tell koganegawa to stop yelling so much?”

“no, their fans like his enthusiasm,” you say. 

“well, tsukishima’s their most popular player… maybe we can ask him to ramp up the fanservice. as in, do any.”

you snort but before you can make some snarky comment about how that absolutely will not happen, a voice comes from behind you. “you’re signing a death wish with that. no way tsukki’ll bite.”

nakamura’s face sours and he mumbles something as kuroo towers over both of you. you grin at him in greeting and give him a playfully chastising look, adding, “you’re right but you know it’s rude to interrupt a conversation.”

“just making sure my wife—” he gives nakamura a very pointed look, “—knows who she’s dealing with.”

you quirk an eyebrow. “your wife is a very capable woman, thank you very much.”

he smirks and bends down closer, deepening his tone. “oh, i know.”

nakamura scowls. “we get it, she’s your work wife.”

“actually…” kuroo’s shit-eating grin grows wide like a cat who got the cream and simultaneously, both of you hold up your left hands, matching silver bands glinting under the fluorescent lights. “she’s my wife-wife now.”

[hauntedbyjoel]

Made for Us

pairing: joel miller x f!reader x tommy miller warnings: MDNI | Age gap | Dad’s best friend trope | Threesome (M/M/F) | Vaginal sex | Oral sex (f + m) | Handjob | Spit kink | Cum play | Creampie | Praise kink | Dirty talk | Slight degradation | Hair pulling | Slapping | Overstimulation | Multiple orgasms | Light choking (consensual) | Soft aftercare | No protection | No outbreak AU word count - 7.1k summary - Sent to lay low for the winter, you end up snowed in with two of your dad’s old friends. Tension brews. Lines blur. And once they break you open, they don’t stop. A slow burn into something filthy, possessive, and unexpectedly soft. a/n: inspired by credence by penelope douglas

part one part two

✻ ❄ ✻ ❄ ✻

The snow was already falling when you arrived. Fat, wet flakes slushed against the windshield as the SUV pulled up the winding mountain road. You’d been in the backseat for hours, barely speaking, earbuds in even though your phone had died somewhere past the state line. The driver didn’t ask questions. Just nodded when you said your name at the airport and opened the trunk.

Your dad didn’t come. Didn’t call either. Just sent a text three hours in: "Let me know when you get there." Like you were being dropped off at summer camp, not exiled from the public eye.

The house appeared like a shadow—two-story, wood-paneled, dark green trim disappearing into the trees. A wraparound porch, a stack of firewood, a shovel leaning against the doorframe. Remote. Isolated.

Perfect.

The SUV rolled to a stop. The driver didn’t turn around.

“This it?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Your fingers curled tighter around the duffel in your lap. You didn’t move until the front door creaked open. Joel filled the doorway like he belonged there. Heavy boots, gray flannel, thick forearms crossed over his chest. He didn’t wave. Didn’t smile. Just stepped onto the porch and looked straight at you.

You swallowed. Opened the door. The cold bit at your ankles as you stepped out, gravel crunching under your boots. Joel didn’t move. Didn’t speak until you were halfway up the steps.

“Wasn’t sure you’d actually come,” he said.

You shifted your bag on your shoulder. “Didn’t have much of a choice.”

His eyes scanned your face. Not cruel. Not warm. Just measuring.

“Your room’s upstairs. Last door on the right.”

No welcome. No offer to help with your bag. Just turned back into the house like this was any other Thursday. You hesitated on the porch. The driver was already gone.

Inside, it was warmer. Dim. Smelled like cedar and something heavier—sawdust maybe, or old smoke. The living room was all leather and stone, a fire burning low in the hearth.

“Joel,” a voice called from somewhere behind the kitchen. “That her?”

Tommy rounded the corner, grin already in place.

“Damn,” he said. “You grew up.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

He laughed. “Nah. Just didn’t expect you to look like a city girl.”

You glanced down at yourself—black leggings, oversized sweater, sleek winter coat.

“You want a tour?” Tommy asked.

Joel muttered something and kept walking.

“She’ll figure it out,” he said.

Tommy shot you an apologetic look.

“Don’t take it personal,” he said under his breath. “He’s always like this.”

You gave a tight smile.

“Wasn’t planning to stay long anyway.”

Your room was small. Slanted ceilings, thick quilt, wood walls and no TV. A single window with a view of the trees. No cell service. Just one blinking bar that disappeared if you leaned too far left.

You dropped your bag. Sat on the edge of the bed. It was quiet. Not peaceful. Just empty. Discarded. You didn’t cry. Just laid back slowly, eyes on the ceiling, coat still on. Below you, floorboards creaked. Joel’s voice rumbled low—just once. You couldn’t hear the words. You closed your eyes and told yourself you were lucky. Safe. Alone. Then you swallowed hard and tried not to wonder why the sound of his boots on the floor made your chest feel tight.

✻ ❄ ✻ ❄ ✻

The next morning was colder. Your breath fogged in the air when you got out of bed.

You padded down the stairs in thick socks and a hoodie, hair pulled up in a lazy knot. The living room was empty, fire down to low embers. Somewhere outside, you heard the rhythmic thump of an axe. Joel.

You found Tommy in the kitchen making coffee, humming something low. He looked up when you walked in and smiled.

"Mornin', city girl," he said. "Hope you like it black. We're outta milk."

You shrugged. "Black's fine."

He handed you a chipped mug. You took it, fingers brushing his for a second. He nodded toward the back window.

"He’s been out there since sunrise. Won’t talk to anyone until he’s chopped enough wood to warm the devil."

You stepped over to the window. Joel was out in the snow, flannel sleeves rolled to the elbow, a beanie pulled low over his head. He wasn’t rushing—just splitting logs like the motion was a kind of meditation.

Tommy leaned against the counter. "He'll come around. Just takes him a while to talk to new people."

"I'm not new," you said. "He used to come over every summer when I was little. He just doesn’t like that I grew up."

Tommy whistled. "Well damn. You figured him out fast."

You sipped your coffee and didn’t reply.

Later that day, you tried to help. You asked where the extra firewood was kept. Joel pointed without looking. When you carried in your first stack, he took it from your arms without a word. You tried again. Asked if he needed help sharpening the blades.

"No."

That was it.

You sat on the porch after sunset, wrapped in a blanket, knees pulled to your chest. Tommy joined you after a while, two beers in hand. You took one without a word.

"Don’t let him get to you," he said eventually. "He’s just... Joel."

"I didn’t do anything."

"I know."

You stared out at the dark line of trees. The cold had crept under your skin. Not enough to shiver. Just enough to settle.

"Does he hate me?"

Tommy looked over, serious now.

"No."

You believed him.

But it didn’t stop you from wondering why Joel never looked you in the eyes for longer than a second. And why it made your stomach twist every time he left the room after you walked in.

✻ ❄ ✻ ❄ ✻

The house was quiet that afternoon. Snow still blanketed the ground, but the sun had crept through the clouds, casting long golden stripes across the hardwood floor.

You were in the kitchen, earbuds in, swaying to something soft but steady. A little lo-fi beat you'd downloaded before losing service. Your sleeves were rolled up. Hair a mess. A dish towel in your hand as you spun half in rhythm, hips moving in lazy little circles while you wiped down the counter.

You didn’t know he was there. Joel had been passing through, intending to grab a spare battery from the utility drawer. But he froze just outside the archway, back in the shadows, the second he saw you.

You were barefoot. Humming. Completely unguarded. He should’ve looked away. Should’ve cleared his throat. Walked off. Anything but watch you — soft and lit from the side like some kind of goddamn dream.

His jaw flexed. One hand curled around the doorframe like he was anchoring himself to it. He watched the shape of you — hips rolling slow, lips moving along to the song. You were so young, and you didn’t even know what you were doing. Not really.

That’s what he told himself.

You turned in place, lifted your arms above your head, eyes closed for a second. Just moving. Just existing.

He left before you saw him. Didn’t say a word. But he didn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day.

✻ ❄ ✻ ❄ ✻

It was later that night when he heard your voice again — quieter this time. Not dancing. Not humming. You were talking to Tommy out on the porch. Joel had come halfway down the hall, meaning to grab firewood. He paused at the front door when he heard you speak.

“It’s kinda nice here,” you said, voice soft. “Like… no one expects anything from me for once.”

Tommy chuckled, something low and easy.

“Yeah? Even with Joel stomping around like he hates the world?”

You laughed, the sound light — real.

“Even then. It’s just… I don’t know. Quiet in a good way. I feel like I can breathe here.”

Joel stood there with his hand on the door, frozen. You weren’t venting. Weren’t crying. Just telling the truth.

And it hit him hard — right in the chest. Because he hadn’t thought about what you might be running from. He’d been so busy trying not to want you that he hadn’t even wondered if you were lonely.

He didn’t go outside. Didn’t make a sound. But when he went back upstairs that night, the echo of your voice followed him up every step.

✻ ❄ ✻ ❄ ✻

You’d only been gone ten minutes.

The water hadn’t even warmed all the way before the pressure cut out — pipes groaning, sputtering into silence. You threw on sweats and a tank, tugged a hoodie over damp skin, and padded down the hall to figure out what happened.

Your door was cracked open. Joel was inside. Kneeling near the wall heater, wrench in hand, sleeves gone. Just sweatpants slung low on his hips and a bare back that made your breath hitch.

You blinked.

Stopped in the doorway.

He didn’t notice you at first. His shoulders moved with slow precision, every motion controlled, steady — like he didn’t know how to fumble. Like he didn’t know how to be unsure of anything. And that was the thing, wasn’t it?

He was too sure.

Too grown.

Too real.

His skin was marked — not in the aesthetic way, not something curated — but lived-in. Scars, rough edges, sun-worn. There were creases near his neck. A faint scratch across his ribs. Broad shoulders that looked like they belonged to someone who’d held a lot more than you.

You didn’t understand what it was that made your stomach tighten. He was twice your age. Not charming. Not flirty. Just... there. Solid. Like the ground under your feet. And yet you couldn’t stop looking.

You didn’t know if you were attracted or just curious — if it was desire or confusion or both tangled together like static in your chest. All you knew was the way your thighs pressed together without thinking.

You swallowed. Cleared your throat.

Joel turned.

His eyes dropped — just for a second. From your damp hair to the curve of your hips, the hem of your hoodie riding up slightly.

Then his gaze snapped back up like he hadn’t seen anything at all.

“Pipe’s acting up,” he said, voice rough. “Thought I’d fix it before it busted.”

You nodded.

“Thanks.”

You should’ve left it at that. Should’ve backed out, closed the door, gone back to pretending he didn’t have that effect on you.

But you didn’t.

You stepped into the room. He stood up slowly. Still shirtless, flannel tied around his hips like he wasn’t even trying to cover the way his body looked.

“You always fix things without asking?”

Your voice came out a little too soft. A little too curious. Joel stared at you for a second too long.

“Only when they need fixing.”

You looked away.

Why did that feel like it meant something else?

You bit the inside of your cheek. Tried to push down the warmth curling low in your belly. Tried not to wonder how those hands would feel if they touched your skin instead of the heater.

You didn’t understand why he made you feel like this.

You didn’t even think he liked you.

And maybe that was what made it worse.

Joel walked past you — close enough that your arms brushed, your breath caught. He didn’t stop.

At the doorway, he paused.

“Dry off. Don’t need you catchin’ cold.”

Then he was gone. And you stood in the middle of your room, heart pounding, breath shallow, trying to make sense of the ache he left behind.

✻ ❄ ✻ ❄ ✻

The storm started slow.

Wind pushed through the trees in long, groaning breaths. Branches tapped against the windows, steady and rhythmic, like something trying to get in. You were curled up on the couch, blanket wrapped around your legs, a book open in your lap that you hadn’t turned a page in for nearly an hour.

You weren’t reading. You were listening. To the pipes groaning. The hum of the old heater. The occasional floorboard creak above where Joel and Tommy had gone quiet after dinner. Then the lights flickered.

Once. Twice.

And just like that — they were gone.

The room dropped into darkness. For a second, you didn’t move. The sudden quiet felt heavier than the dark — like the walls were holding their breath. You set the book aside and padded across the floor to the fireplace, where the earlier embers still glowed soft and red. You crouched, poked at them a little, trying to coax them back to life. Then you heard it — boots on the stairs.

You didn’t turn around. Joel appeared in the corner of your eye, flashlight in one hand, that same permanent frown set into his face.

“Generator’s out,” he muttered. “Storm knocked something loose. Power’s dead ‘til morning.”

You nodded, tucking your hands under your arms.

“I figured.”

He crouched next to you, flashlight set aside, both hands busy now — feeding fresh wood to the fire, coaxing it back with slow, practiced movements. The flames built back up in slow bursts, casting sharp light across his profile — jaw set, eyes low, brow furrowed like he was concentrating harder than necessary.

You didn’t say anything at first.

The light danced along the side of his face. Highlighted the gray in his scruff. The crease between his brows. The way he moved — calm and steady and capable — like his hands had been made for this kind of work.

You sat beside him in silence for a while.

Then softly:

“Joel.”

He didn’t look at you. Not right away. But his shoulders went stiff.

His hand paused on a piece of kindling. When he did finally turn to you, the look on his face made your breath catch — all guarded quiet and low-burning heat, like he already knew what you were about to say and didn’t want to hear it.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?”

That stopped him.

Joel stood there in front of the fire, eyes catching on yours in the glow, and didn’t speak. Just stared.

“You barely look at me,” you said. “You act like I don’t exist.”

His jaw clenched. He stepped closer. Just one step — but it was enough to feel the heat rolling off his body.

“I look at you more than I should.”

You swallowed.

“Then why pretend I’m not here?”

“Because when I look at you, I don’t think about the things I should.”

“What do you think about?”

He shook his head once. Then again, tighter. Rougher.

“Things that’d make your daddy kill me.”

“Things that make me a bad man.”

He stepped in, slow but unstoppable. Voice low and broken.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, sweetheart.”

“But what if I do.”

That was it.

He grabbed your face — one big hand on your jaw, fingers curled into your cheek — and kissed you hard. Like he was punishing himself for giving in. Tongue deep, teeth scraping your lip. His other hand yanked your sweatshirt up, sliding up your back, not even pretending to be gentle. You gasped, and he swallowed it.

He pulled back just enough to growl:

“You’re too fucking young.”

“And you’re still touching me.”

His eyes flared. Then he was dragging you down onto the rug in front of the fire, breathing hard, hands everywhere.

“Take it off,” he rasped. “Sweatshirt. Pants. Now.”

You obeyed. You were trembling, skin warm from the fire, breath already shaky. When you laid back, Joel knelt between your legs, eyes heavy, starving.

“Look at you,” he muttered. “Didn’t know what I was gonna do with you the second you walked through that fucking door.”

He shoved your knees apart, ran his palms down the insides of your thighs like he owned them. And then — he bent down. Licked a stripe up your pussy with one slow, deliberate stroke, groaning low in his chest like he hadn’t tasted anything in weeks.

“So fuckin’ sweet,” he murmured. “Didn’t know you’d taste like this.”

He licked you again — slower this time. Sucked your clit into his mouth and let it go with a filthy little pop. Your hips jerked.

“That feel good?” he asked.

“Yes,” you gasped.

His grip tightened on your thighs.

“You want me to make you come with my mouth, baby?”

“Yes—Joel—please—”

“Then fuckin’ hold still.”

He devoured you after that. No teasing. No pause. Just his tongue moving in rough, perfect rhythm, lips wrapped around your clit, fingers teasing at your entrance, pressing inside you — thick and slow and curling just right.

You came fast. Hard. Practically sobbing with it, thighs trembling around his head. He didn’t stop. Licked you through it. Kept going until your hips bucked and your breath hitched on a second orgasm, sharper than the first.

When he finally came up for air, his mouth was slick. His eyes dark. His chest rising fast.

“You’re dripping,” he muttered, voice shredded. “Can’t wait anymore.”

He shoved his sweatpants down just enough. You barely caught a glimpse before he was on top of you, heavy and hot, one hand guiding the thick head of his cock to your entrance.

“You ever had anyone inside you before?”

You shook your head. “No.”

He froze. Like that wrecked him worse than anything. Then he growled something broken and desperate and lined himself up anyway.

“I’ll be careful,” he said. “But I’m not stopping.”

“Don’t stop,” you breathed. “Please.”

He pushed in slow. It burned — thick stretch, unfamiliar, deep. But you were wet and worked open already, and he kept his hand tight on your hip, controlling the angle, watching your face.

“Fuck,” he groaned, dropping his head to your neck. “Tight little cunt—Jesus, baby—”

He bottomed out. Held still for a second. Your breath stuttered. His teeth clenched.

“You feel that?” he whispered, voice ruined. “That’s me inside you. You’re not gonna forget this.”

And then he moved. Slow at first — deep, dragging thrusts that had your hands clawing at his back, your thighs shaking all over again.

“You shouldn’t want this,” he grunted.

“But you do, don’t you?”

“Yes—fuck—Joel—yes—”

“You want your daddy’s friend to fuck you like this?”

You moaned — helpless, wrecked. And he lost it. He fucked you harder, panting against your skin, hand gripping your face like he needed to hold you still. Your legs wrapped around his hips, and he hissed through his teeth.

“This what you wanted?”

“Yes—”

“What you think about when you’re alone?”

“Yes—yes—please don’t stop—”

“That’s it, baby,” he growled. “Gonna fill you up so good you’ll feel it for days.”

You came again, whimpering against his neck. And Joel followed — deep inside you, with a low, strangled groan — holding you there while his hips jerked, cock pulsing as he filled you.

When it was over, he didn’t say a word. Just braced his arms beside you, breathing hard, head turned toward the fire. You looked up at him — dazed, dizzy, aching — and tried to find his eyes.

But Joel was already gone somewhere else.

✻ ❄ ✻ ❄ ✻

The cabin was quiet when you woke up.

Your body ached in places that felt new. Between your legs. In your thighs. In your throat from how much you’d begged. But it was a good ache.

You stretched slowly beneath the blanket, the low embers in the fireplace still glowing. Your sweatshirt was somewhere across the room, your tank top halfway twisted up your ribs.

Joel was gone.

You sat up.

The rug was still warm where he’d fucked you into it, slow and rough and breathless. You remembered the way he gripped your face. The way he came inside you, trembling. The way he said nothing after. You told yourself it didn’t matter. He probably just needed space. He wasn’t a man who said a lot, anyway.

You pulled your clothes on, padded down the hallway, heartbeat light in your chest like maybe — maybe — this meant something now.

Maybe he’d look at you like you weren’t just someone left behind anymore.

He was in the kitchen when you found him. Coffee mug in one hand. Shoulders hunched. Staring out the window like the trees might say something worth hearing.

“Morning,” you said.

Joel didn’t turn.

“Morning.”

His voice was flat. You hesitated in the doorway, fingers twisting in your sleeve.

“Did you sleep?”

“Didn’t go back to bed.”

You smiled, a little. Tried to tease.

“That’s ‘cause you wore yourself out.”

Nothing. He didn’t laugh. Didn’t smirk. Just sipped his coffee.

You stepped closer, heart climbing into your throat.

“Joel…”

He tensed. Just slightly. But you saw it. The way his grip tightened around the mug. The way his jaw clenched.

“About last night—”

“It shouldn’t have happened.”

You froze. Everything in you went still. He still didn’t look at you. Just stared out the window like it was safer than your face.

“Joel…”

“I crossed a line,” he said. “You’re too young. I shouldn’t’ve touched you.”

Your chest twisted. Not because he regretted it. But because he didn’t even say your name.

“You didn’t seem to care last night,” you said quietly.

That made him turn. His eyes met yours — finally — but they were hard. Empty.

“I’m not proud of what I did.”

You swallowed. Nodded. Turned before he could see the heat rising in your eyes, the sting in your throat.

✻ ❄ ✻ ❄ ✻

You didn’t speak the rest of the morning. You stayed in your room. Closed the door. Climbed back under the blanket you’d been fucked on hours earlier. You didn’t cry.

You just laid there — quiet, still — and wondered how something that had felt like belonging could be dismissed like it was nothing.

Like you were nothing.

✻ ❄ ✻ ❄ ✻

The knock was soft. Just a single tap on your door. You didn’t answer. Didn’t say anything.

A few seconds passed, and then it creaked open anyway. Tommy stood in the doorway with a mug in one hand and a knitted blanket over his shoulder. His voice was low.

“Brought you tea.”

You didn’t move. Just laid there on your side, face half-buried in the pillow, blanket pulled high over your chest.

“It’s chamomile,” he added. “Or whatever shit Joel keeps hidden in the back of the cabinet.”

You managed a weak sound. Almost a laugh.

Tommy stepped inside. Set the mug on your nightstand.

“Can I sit?”

You nodded. He eased down to the edge of the bed, arms resting on his knees. Not too close. Not touching. Just… there.

“I heard him this morning,” he said after a minute. “Didn’t take a genius to figure out he fucked it up.”

You blinked.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Alright,” he said. No protest. Just that same calm, solid tone.

Silence for a while.

Then—

“You know you’re not the problem, right?”

Your throat tightened.

“He made me feel like one.”

“Yeah,” Tommy muttered. “He’s good at that. Thinks pushing people away’s the same thing as protecting ‘em.”

You looked over at him — eyes red, but dry.

“He didn’t even say my name.”

Tommy didn’t answer right away. He just looked at you for a long moment — really looked — like he saw more than just the mess Joel left behind.

“You want me to say it?” he asked, voice softer now. “You want someone to say your name like it matters?”

You swallowed. Nodded once. He reached for your hand, warm fingers curling around yours.

“Alright then, sweetheart. I got you.”

You stared at him, heart crawling out of its little corner.

“Why are you always so nice to me?”

Tommy’s smile was small. A little sad.

“Because no one else around here is.”

And then, so softly you barely heard it:

“And because you deserve it.”

✻ ❄ ✻ ❄ ✻

The next day passed in a blur.

You stayed quiet. Ate little. Said less. Joel barely looked at you. Tommy didn’t push.

He cracked a joke at lunch. Offered you his bread. Fixed the loose leg on the kitchen chair without being asked. And when you thanked him, he just smiled and said, “What else am I good for?”

It stuck with you all afternoon. The way he looked at you without hesitation.

Like you weren’t a problem to fix. Like you didn’t need to shrink yourself down just to be tolerated.

✻ ❄ ✻ ❄ ✻

That night, you sat in your room with the lamp off. Blanket wrapped around your legs. Book open in your lap, unread.

You kept thinking about Joel. The way he touched you like he owned you. The way he spoke like it meant nothing. The way he left you aching. But every time your thoughts twisted around him, they drifted.

Back to Tommy. To the soft way he said your name. To the look in his eyes when you asked why he was always so nice to you. You didn’t mean for it to feel like this. Didn’t plan for your chest to tighten every time you heard his voice in the hall.

But it did. And maybe that made you fucked up. Maybe that made you selfish. But you were tired of asking for love from people who flinched when you gave it.

Tommy never flinched.

Before you even realized what you were doing, you were standing in front of Tommy’s door, hesitant to knock.

You didn’t even get the change to – it was like he sensed you standing there. He opened the door, standing in nothing but his pajama bottoms.

“Can’t sleep, sweetheart?”

You nodded in response, not entirely sure what to say.

He opened the door, signaling for you to come in.

The room was warm, lamp on low. It smelled like cedar and detergent. Comfortable.

He sat on the edge of the bed and waited for you to sit too — not pushing. Just giving you space. You perched beside him, not too close.

“Sorry,” you said, voice tight. “I shouldn’t be bothering you.”

“You’re not.”

“It’s just—”

You hesitated. Picked at the corner of the blanket.

“I don’t know how to feel okay anymore.”

Tommy looked over. Eyes steady.

“That thing with Joel,” he said gently. “He messed you up bad, huh?”

You looked down.

“I thought it meant something.”

You swallowed.

“And I know that makes me stupid, but I let him touch me. I let him see me. And then he acted like I was some… mistake.”

The word tasted awful. Tommy didn’t speak right away. His voice was low when it came.

“You’re not a mistake. And he’s a damn fool for making you feel that way”

You finally looked at him. His brows were drawn, face earnest in a way that made your throat tighten.

“He doesn’t get to decide what you’re worth,” he said.

“Then why does it feel like he did?”

Tommy shifted — closer, slowly — but didn’t touch you.

“You let yourself want something, and that’s okay.”

“You’ve always been nice to me.”

Tommy looked at you, something quiet in his eyes.

“Not just to be nice.”

You hesitated.

“Then why?”

He leaned forward a little, forearms on his knees. Voice low, but clear.

“Because I like who you are. Not just what you’ve been through.”

That stopped you. He didn’t say it like a line. Didn’t make it about pity. Just truth.

Your throat tightened.

“I know I’m younger than you-”

“You’re not a kid,” he said firmly. “Not to me. Never have been.”

He paused. Swallowed.

“But I’m not gonna touch you unless you tell me you want me to.”

You stared at him for a long second.

“I do,” you said. “I want you to.”

Tommy leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away—but you didn’t. You kissed him first, lips soft and tentative. His mouth moved gently with yours, steady. Like he wasn’t trying to take anything, just give. His hand came up to your cheek, thumb stroking along your jaw, then moved to rest at your hip.

“You sure?” he asked again, voice a little hoarse.

“Yes.”

He slid his hand beneath your hoodie, fingertips gliding along the warm skin of your waist. You gasped when he brushed under your bra — not because it was too much, but because it had been so long since anyone touched you like you were precious. He paused.

“Still okay?”

“More than okay.”

Tommy smiled against your skin.

“Good. Wanna take this off for me?”

You nodded and pulled the hoodie over your head, then hesitated. He was already staring — not leering, just seeing. Like every part of you made sense.

“Goddamn,” he whispered. “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous.”

You laughed, quiet and breathy.

“I feel like a mess.”

“Still the prettiest thing I’ve seen all year.”

He kissed your chest, your collarbone, the curve beneath your breast. His mouth was warm and slow, lips parting over skin like it deserved time and intention. When his hand slid down your thigh and between your legs, he didn’t rush. Just cupped you through your shorts first.

“This okay?”

“Yes.”

He rubbed slow circles over the fabric, then tugged your shorts and underwear down in one smooth pull.

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.”

You did.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “Look at you. All wet already.”

You flushed, hips twitching toward his hand. He slipped a finger through your folds, teasing. Then another. Not pushing in yet — just touching. Petting. Feeling.

“You feel that?” he murmured. “How ready you are?”

You whimpered.

“Can I taste you?”

“Please.”

He went down on you slow — hand under your thigh, face buried between your legs like he meant it. His tongue was warm and steady, not teasing, not trying to make you come in thirty seconds. He took his time.

Licked up and down your slit, sucked softly on your clit, murmured “That’s it, baby” when your hips rocked into his mouth. You came with your hands in his hair, breath stuttering, thighs shaking. You were still catching your breath when he kissed his way back up your body, slow and lingering. When he reached your mouth, he paused—forehead resting against yours.

“I want to feel you,” he murmured. “All of you.”

Your eyes fluttered open, your hand sliding to his cheek.

“Then do it,” you whispered. “I want you too.”

He nodded, breath shaky, and shifted his hips between yours. You felt the thick heat of him brush against you, and your whole body tensed—not in fear, just anticipation. He pressed in slow. The stretch made you gasp, and his eyes snapped to yours immediately.

“Okay?” he breathed.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “It’s just… a lot.”

“I’ll go slow,” he promised. “You just breathe, sweetheart. Let me take care of it.”

He eased deeper, inch by inch, hand sliding under your back to keep you close. He whispered praise into your skin the whole way down—how good you felt, how beautiful you looked like this, how soft and warm and perfect you were wrapped around him. When he bottomed out, both of you exhaled like you’d been holding your breath for years. He didn’t move at first—just stayed there, letting your bodies adjust, letting you adjust.

“Still good?” he murmured against your temple.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Better than.”

He kissed you again, slower this time, his hips starting to move in long, steady strokes. Deep, full, intimate. The kind of rhythm that made you feel like he wanted to memorize every part of you.

“You feel so good,” he whispered. “So fucking good. Like you were meant to be right here.”

Every thrust felt deliberate. Every brush of his hand, every graze of his mouth along your shoulder or jaw or lips—it was all like he couldn’t get enough of you.

“You’re doing so good, baby. Let me make you feel good. Let me keep you like this for a while.”

You moaned beneath him, hips rocking to meet his, your hands gripping his back like he was the only thing tethering you to the world.

It built again. Slow and tight. He felt it—groaned softly as your walls fluttered around him.

“You gonna come for me?” he whispered. “You can let go. I’ve got you.”

You did. It rolled through you in waves, your body clenching around him, your voice catching on a broken gasp of his name.

Tommy followed seconds later, stuttering forward with a low moan, his forehead pressed against yours, hand cupped around the back of your head like he needed to hold on while he came apart inside you.

You didn’t remember falling asleep — only that Tommy’s hand was still resting on your hip, thumb moving in slow circles, like even in sleep he didn’t want to stop touching you.

When you stirred, he was already half-awake, eyes soft, hair messy, voice lower than usual.

“Hey,” he murmured. “How’re you feeling?”

“Warm,” you said. “Tired.”

His mouth twitched.

“That’s a good start.”

He brushed a strand of hair from your face, then kissed your shoulder.

“C’mon,” he said after a beat. “I ran the tub.”

You blinked at him.

“What?”

“Thought it might feel nice.” He shrugged. “You were falling asleep before I even pulled the blanket up.”

He didn’t say you looked like you needed it or you’ve been through a lot.

He just said: I thought it might feel nice.

So you went.

The bathroom was dim and warm, steam rising in soft clouds. The scent of something herbal lingered in the air — not perfumed, just clean. Grounding. Real. He helped you step in, then knelt beside the tub while you settled back. The water wrapped around you like a second body.

“You want me to stay?” he asked.

You nodded.

“Okay.”

He grabbed a cup from the shelf, filled it, and poured it gently through your hair, catching the runoff with one hand.

“That okay?” he asked, already smoothing it down your scalp.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Feels nice.”

His hands moved through your hair — not to fuss, not to perform. Just slow, practiced motions like he was learning the shape of you one small piece at a time.

“You’ve got the softest hair,” he said. “Didn’t expect that.”

You laughed, quiet.

“You gonna start complimenting my elbows next?”

“Dunno,” he said, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “They’re pretty damn cute.”

He lathered the shampoo, massaging behind your ears, down the nape of your neck. There was no rush. No tension. No feeling of being handled. You were just… with him.

Present.

Close.

Wanted.

When he rinsed your hair, he was quiet. Focused. Not because it was delicate—but because he wanted to do it right. When he helped you out, he wrapped the towel around your shoulders, kissed the top of your head, and pulled you close, his hand resting lightly on your lower back.

“Come back to bed with me,” he said. “Just for sleep. If that’s all you want.”

It wasn’t pity.

It wasn’t caretaking.

It was intimacy.

And you didn’t have to say a word. You just nodded. And stayed.

✻ ❄ ✻ ❄ ✻

It started small.

You weren’t floating through the house like a ghost anymore. You woke up before noon. Made coffee. Actually brushed your hair.

You found yourself humming sometimes—absently, under your breath—when you thought no one was listening. You smiled more. Laughed at Tommy’s jokes. Even teased him back a few times, just to watch his mouth twitch in that smug little way he did when you got him good.

Joel noticed. He didn’t say anything at first. But you caught the way his eyes lingered a second longer when you passed through the kitchen. How he stopped mid-step when he heard you laughing with Tommy on the porch.

You’d only shared a few more nights with Tommy since that first one. Quiet, private, unspoken. He didn’t sneak in; he just showed up, and you let him. No drama. No confessions. Just warmth. Hands in your hair. His voice in your ear.

“God, you look good like this.”

“Gonna kiss you until you forget anyone else ever touched you.”

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t public.

But it was yours.

And Joel felt it. He didn’t know what it was, not exactly. But he knew it wasn’t his anymore.

✻ ❄ ✻ ❄ ✻

It happened two days later.

The morning was gray. Cold. Tommy was splitting logs out back, sleeves rolled to the elbows, snow dusting his boots. Joel stepped out onto the porch with coffee in hand and didn’t say anything at first. Just watched.

Tommy noticed him after a minute.

“Need somethin’?”

Joel didn’t answer right away. Just stepped off the porch and walked over, slow.

“You sleepin’ with her?”

Tommy’s body stilled. He looked up—axe paused mid-swing—and met Joel’s eyes.

“That why you came out here?” he asked. “To ask me what you already know?”

Joel’s jaw flexed.

“She’s young.”

“Maybe compared to you,” Tommy said flatly. “And you sure as hell didn’t care about that when it was you she wanted.”

That hit. Joel’s grip on his coffee tightened.

“This ain’t about me.”

“Isn’t it?”

Tommy dropped the axe into the snow and stepped forward.

“You pushed her away. Treated her like a mistake. And now you’re pissed because someone else figured out she’s worth giving a damn about?”

Joel didn’t speak. His silence said everything.

Tommy nodded, slow. Angry, but controlled.

“You don’t get to act like you’re protecting her when what you’re really doing is guarding your pride.”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” Tommy said. “’Cause from where I’m standing, it looks like she’s finally got a little light in her again. And the only thing you’ve contributed lately is the way she flinches when you’re in the room.”

Joel’s chest rose once. Then again, tighter. He turned without a word. Walked back toward the house, jaw clenched, coffee going cold in his hand.

Tommy watched him go. Then picked the axe back up.

✻ ❄ ✻ ❄ ✻

You felt it before you saw it.

Joel was watching you again. It started small — a glance that lingered when it didn’t need to, a pause at the counter when you walked into the room. He wasn’t ignoring you anymore. But he wasn’t talking to you either.

He just watched.

And you hated it.

You caught him staring once while you and Tommy were laughing over breakfast — something dumb about a snow shovel and a raccoon — and Joel’s spoon stilled midair. His eyes didn’t move off you for a full three seconds.

You didn’t smile. You looked straight back at him, held his gaze like a challenge. He looked away first. After that, it kept happening.

You’d be tying your boots. Pouring tea. Brushing your hair by the window. And Joel would appear — not close, not speaking — just there. Watching you like he couldn’t help himself. And maybe he couldn’t.

But you didn’t owe him curiosity. Or kindness. Or anything at all. Not after the way he left you feeling like you were the only one who’d misunderstood. Not after the way he made you feel like you were the mistake.

So you ignored him. Even when it felt like the air shifted every time he walked into the room. Even when the way he looked at you made your pulse skip.

✻ ❄ ✻ ❄ ✻

It started snowing hard just after dark.

Thick, wet flakes against the windows. Wind low and humming under the roof. You lit the fire before it got too cold, wrapped yourself in a blanket, and curled up on the couch with a book you weren’t really reading.

Tommy was gone — took the truck into town for salt and supplies before the storm got worse. You told him you’d be fine.

And you were. Mostly.

You heard the creak of the floorboards before you saw him. Joel stepped into the living room like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to. His flannel sleeves were rolled to the elbows, hands shoved in his pockets. He didn’t speak right away. Just glanced at you on the couch and hovered in the doorway like that was safer.

“Didn’t know anyone was still up,” he said.

“Clearly,” you said flatly, not looking up from your page.

Silence.

He stood there a moment longer, then stepped closer. Sat in the armchair beside the fireplace — not across from you, not near. Just… adjacent.

“Tommy’s out?”

“Town run.”

“In this?”

“Didn’t seem to bother you when you let him go.”

That landed. His jaw tensed, and you saw the twitch in his cheek when he looked at the fire instead of you. The crackle of the logs filled the silence. You flipped a page. Still hadn’t read a single line.

“You seem different lately,” he said after a while.

You didn’t look at him.

“That supposed to mean something?”

“Just noticing.”

“You don’t get to notice.”

That made him pause.

“No?”

“No,” you said. “Not after the way you made me feel.”

You finally looked at him. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t deny it.

Just sat there, staring at the fire like it might burn the words off his tongue before he could say them.

“You seem happy,” he said eventually. “With him.”

Your chest tightened.

“I am.”

He nodded once. Like it hurt.

Then, quieter:

“You deserve to be.”

His voice was rough. Honest. No bitterness in it.

And then he left the room, boots thudding soft against the wood floor. You sat there for a while after the door shut, staring at the flames, unsure if you felt lighter or just more exposed.

[vitaminkyeom]

telephone || k.mg

“NOW IT'S TIME FOR ME TO RETURN THE FAVOUR”

PAIRING || Mingyu x Female Reader

GENRES || Horror, 911 Operator!Mingyu, Romance

SUMMARY ||  Working the night shift as a 911 operator was hard as it is and the last thing Mingyu needed was those calls from his ex-girlfriend. Whom he had not seen in years. For obvious reasons of her being dead.

Or, in which, Mingyu kept getting calls from his ex girlfriend claiming that she had murdered him.

SERIES MASTERLIST || till death do us part

WARNINGS || inaccurate 911 stuff, description of murdered body, horror, mention of murder and ghost

WORD COUNT || 3k

A/N || If you recognise this story, no you don't. but anyways this was one of my most favourite works even though i'm not that great at writing horror so i'm really glad i'm starting off with this story for the series. i've tried my best to make it as scary as i could (sorry but im a pussy) so yeah any feedback would be really helpful!

TAGLIST || @monamipencil @nonuify @black-swan-blog27 @hipsdofangirl @wonuilu @kibs-and-bits @unlikelysublimekryptonite @gyuguys @hanicore @alyssng @hyneyedfiz @weebotakuboy @aaniag @thepoopdokyeomtouched @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @sea-moon-star @hrts4hanniehae @athanasiasakura @doubleshoticedshakenespresso @asasilentreader @isabellah29 @mrswonwooo @nonononranghaee @hoichi02 @cheolsboo @dinossaurz @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @tinkerbell460 @bluewbwerry @hoeforcheol @kawennote09 @iamawkwardandshy @winterbeartaehyungbestboy ​ @jjeongddol @k-drama-adict @mnstxmnbb @stervahaha @escoupseu @wonvsmile @mansaaay [if you want to be added to my taglist please fill in this form!]

“911, please state your emergency.”

Static. He waited for a minute more but there still wasn’t any sound coming from the other side.

Mingyu sighed exasperatedly, sure that this was another prank call. Halloween night was looming close which also meant teenagers found it funny to call the operators up at night to scare them.

But he was used to this. Which was funny because Mingyu was the biggest scaredy cat in his group and could not even watch Scooby Doo without whimpering at least once. But he took his responsibilities very seriously and there was no way he was going to let his fear come in the middle of his work.

He was about to hang up the call when he heard a sound. Immediately he jerked back the phone to his ear and strained them to hear anything, but all he could hear was a buzzing sound.

“Hello? How can I help-”

“Help.”

He inhaled sharply, the woman’s raspy voice very clear in the empty office. Mingyu was the only one serving night shift in his floor currently, and the only thing accompanying him was the soft beeping on the seven screens in front of him and the buzzing of the fluorescent tube lights above him.

“Ma'am, are you in a position to tell me what is happening?”

His fingers flew across the keyboard, noting down the number first and then quickly texting the other department to find out the location of the call.

“Pl-please help. Make him stop.” The woman whispered,  her ragged breath harsh against his ears.

“Make whom stop? Can you tell me who is near to you, ma’am?”

Mingyu felt an unnatural calmness settle into his bones, one that always came whenever he forced himself to calm down in such situations.

A message dinged on one of his screens indicating that they had traced the nearest cell tower of the cell phone.

“Officer Lee.” He said, already on the other line, talking to the nearest official he could see. “We have a 911 emergency of abuse.”

“Roger that. Address?”

“It's…” Mingyu’s voice trailed off on seeing the address. 

No way- How was that possible? There had to be some mistake right?

Because the address was of his house.

He cleared his throat, sure that the address was wrong since they tracked the nearest cell tower, and that could be kilometres away from the destination.

“Uh, the address shows my house. I… I think you need to be on the lookout for areas near my house.”

There was a pause, as though Seokmin seemed to be trying to process this information. Seokmin had been good friends with him, so Mingyu knew that even he found it odd, especially when his neighbourhood was a safe and nice one.

“On my way.”

“Ma’am,” Mingyu said, back to line one, “if you could tell me your name or your address, or even what is happening to you, I could help you out better.”

His eyes were trained to look at all the monitors at once, one monitoring the small dot that represented Seokmin heading towards the destination, another with a blank form about the caller and another one where he was rapidly typing what he was hearing, ready to call in other emergencies in case he heard something important.

“Help! Why don’t you help me? Please help!”

“Ma’am help is on the way, please calm down-”

He was interrupted by a loud pop as all the lights went out, the only source of light now being the soft glow of his computer screens. The room was now lit up eerily and he felt the hair on the nape of his neck rise up. Mingyu wasn’t very scared of the dark ever, but the growing sounds of gurgling and growling in the telephone line was causing shivers to travel down his spine.

“Mingyu…” The woman rasped, this time sounding like she had gargled razors, her screeching voice turning his blood to ice.

How did she know his name?

Goosebumps rose all over his skin as his breathing came out in sudden pants, feeling an icy invisible hand wrap around his neck. He sucked in a breath harshly and with a jolt, he realised how lonely he was, not a single soul on his floor whilst he was plunged in darkness.

Then the call cut off abruptly, and at the same time, the power surged back to life. 

Yet, the cold feeling hadn’t left Mingyu as though he could still hear the woman gargling in his ear.

“Mingyu?”

He jerked as the second line suddenly came to life, Seokmin’s voice clear through the landline.

“H-Hey. Did you find anything?” He tried his level best not to sound shaken, but it was hard because the more he tried to ignore wherever had just happened, the more the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach grew.

“Nothing. We will be needing to get a more specific address. Your entire apartment seems safe to me. Is she still on the line?”

Mingyu exhaled harshly, rubbing his chest with his hand to calm down his heart that was beating too fast. He then realised how dry his throat had become, and quickly took a sip of water before continuing.

“No. She cut the call. I- uh, I don’t think she needs help anymore. She sounded alright at the end.” He said, wincing having to lie. He still couldn’t shake off the feeling of horror he had felt when he saw his own address flash on to the screen.

“Are you sure? Shouldn’t we follow the protocol still-”

“She told me so herself.” Mingyu snapped, and Seokmin shut up, not saying anything more.

He sighed, rubbing his template, trying to forget what he had just heard. But it was like the noise had been ingrained into his brain. He could hear it even now, even though there were many other small sounds beside him.

But being a 911 operator, there was bound to be such horrors, right? He had heard some similar stories of ghost calls from his superiors. Maybe this was one of them?

“Well then…I suppose that’s it huh?” Seokmin cut the silence, causing Mingyu to flinch as he jumped out of his thoughts. “Are you calling it a night?”

Mingyu felt his heart leap to his throat.

Calling it a night? On any other day, he would have loved to crash on to his bed but all of a sudden going back to his house, the place where this lady claimed to be at, seemed like a distant nightmare, something which was waiting for him to tear him apart.

“Uh, n-no. I’ll continue my shift I think. Besides, Seungcheol won’t wake up if I call him now.”

“Hey, are you okay?” Seokmin asked, concern lacing his voice. “You sound…scared.”

“I’m fine.” Mingyu swallowed thickly, feeling a patch of sweat that had formed on his forehead as he tried rubbing his temples.

“We’ve dealt with these before, right?” Seokmin asked again, trying to sound bolder for his sake.

“Y-yeah. Yeah. We have. I’ll… hang up now.”

As soon as the phone went down, Mingyu buried his face in his hands, trying to forget the horrible sounds he had heard on the phone.

But the more he tried to forget them, the more he was convinced that they were no more voices in his head, but were coming from the room. It was almost like he could hear the noise coming from behind the door.

I’m probably just hearing things.

He got up and decided to get some fresh air. He walked to the door and paused, the sound still ringing in his ears. Clutching the door knob, he took in a deep breath and with his eyes screwed shut he turned it open, bracing himself for whatever lay ahead of his.

Silence greeted him as he slowly peeled his eyes open, looking around tentatively for anything that might jump on him out of the dark. 

Ding!

The sound of the elevator’s beep caused his heart to nearly stop, the sudden sound cutting through silent night that was almost engulfing him. He felt his entire body freeze as all he could do was watch the numbers on the screen of the lift increase until it reached his floor, limbs paralysed with fear. 

With another soft ding! the lift door began sliding open, and Mingyu found himself almost begging that he shouldn’t be greeted by someone, or something, once the lift door opened.

The dim blue light of the lift spilt out as Mingyu watched in terror, but to his relief only emptiness greeted him back. He looked at his own reflection in the mirror of the elevator. 

Mingyu looked deathly pale, his eyes tired and haggard like he had just seen a ghost. His cheeks were hollow and he felt his stomach lurch when his reflection wobbled, indicating that that the lift was about to close.

And then the lift shut close, leaving him alone with a pin drop silence that almost felt suffocating.

Weren’t there others who had night duty? Because there was no way he was all alone in the building, right?

The thought was enough to cause his stomach to lurch, and he swallowed thickly wondering if he should call someone to take his place.

But his house! Mingyu could feel goosebumps rising on his skin the second he thought of his house.

What if she- that thing was still lurking around his house? Or worse, was actually in his house.

The ringing of the telephone cut through the silence like a blade, causing him to jump a mile. His reflexes kicked in though, and clutching his painfully beating heart, Mingyu ran towards his computers to pick the emergency phone call.

“911. Please state your emergency-”

“Help.”

Mingyu froze, the familiar voice draining out all the blood from his cheeks again.

No way.

He wanted to cut the call, wanted to block out whatever this woman was about to beg for because her voice was like icy daggers to his skin, rekindling his fear like never before. Mingyu had never felt so terrified in his life before. 

“Please help… Mingyu.”

It was like her whispering his name had opened Pandora's box, and lots of emotions hit him at once. He couldn’t even question how she knew his name because that wasn’t what terrified him the most.

But it was the familiarity of the voice of the woman. A voice he used to hear almost every day before it was snuffed out of his life suddenly.

“Y/N.” He whispered, fear clutching his stomach as he felt his heart hammer in his chest.

In the empty office he could only hear his own ragged breathing and the slight buzzing sound coming from the phone.

But how was this possible?

Because you had died six months ago.

Or rather, you had been killed in his apartment. Murdered in cold blood even though it didn’t make sense because you were the sweetest and most caring person he had met in the world. 

At first, he had been charged with murder. Those two months of investigation had nearly driven him mad. It was hard as it is dealing with your death but constant poking of the police made it even worse.

Finally he was set free due to the lack of evidence. 

Even thinking about you made his head throb. 

“Help please.” You rasped again. “Help me-”

“Where are you?” He whispered urgently, not sure why he was even asking questions. Because this had to be some sort of sick joke, right? Or maybe- maybe he was hallucinating after all. Hallucinating that you had come back to life to get some sort of closure.

“In our apartment! Why aren’t you helping?” You sobbed on the other end of the line.

He felt his head spin. Whom was he even talking to? With each word your voice turned more and more raspy and he could feel the familiar fear returning.

“If you don’t help me he’ll-”

Mingyu heard you gasp, followed by a whimpering as he heard someone slap you.

“Y-Y/N?” He asked, though he truly didn’t want to know what had happened to you. Was the person you kept mentioning your real killer? Then… was this your ghost he was talking to?

“Stay away.” A male voice spoke into the telephone suddenly, causing him to nearly fall off his seat. The hair on his arms and necks stood up at the familiarity of the voice.

“Stay away." He repeated.

He could hear his own voice on the other side of the telephone line asking him to stay away and Mingyu felt his head spin at the thought.

The telephone nearly slipped from his sweaty hand as he tried taking in a deep breath to calm himself down.

"And- and who’s this-”

“Just stay away from us.” He heard his own voice command him, before the line disconnected finally.

“Who was that?”

Mingyu jumped from his seat, hands flying to his mouth to prevent himself from screaming, until his eyes landed on Seokmin.

“You- you scared me!” He hissed, rubbing his sweaty forehead while trying to calm his shaking body down. What had just happened?

No way he had been talking to himself, right? How was that even possible?

Seokmin raised an eyebrow, walking towards him and sitting down on a chair opposite to him?

“Did I scare you? Or that call did?”

Mingyu looked away.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to check on you.”

“I’m fine.” He snapped, wiping his sweaty face with a tissue. The last thing he needed was Seokmin asking too many questions before he started questioning his own sanity.

“You’re not. You asked the caller whether she was Y/N.”

Mingyu shivered involuntarily at the memory, giving away his fear.

“It sounded like her.” He lied, not wanting to remember what had just happened. Maybe if he was nonchalant about it Seokmin would leave him alone.

“Are you sure? That call before was unusual, coming from your house.” Seokmin said, still concerned. “It's okay to be shaken up by this, you know.”

He exhaled out, trying to calm down his nerves as much as he could.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry. Pretty sure it was a prank. I mean,” He forced out a laugh, which sounded odd against the silence surrounding the two of them, “How can it even be Y/N? That makes no sense. I probably miss her a lot. That’s why I can hear her everywhere.”

“You should go home.” Seokmin cut him, patting him on the shoulder. “I think you need to rest a bit if you’re that stressed out. Sometimes, stress causes us to see and hear things that are not real. ”

Mingyu opened his mouth to protest, feeling dread fill the pit of his stomach at the thought of going home, but with the way Seokmin was staring he knew he didn’t have an option. Or else he would need to explain how he heard his own voice speak to him and ask him to stay away.

Stay away.

Was that a warning, then? Was it a big mistake going back to his house?

But with the way Seokmin was staring at him, Mingyu had no other option but to get up slowly and pack up his things. His hands wobbled, causing him to nearly break his favourite mug, but he managed to force a smile and walk to the elevator, knees threatening to give out any second. 

Once inside the elevator, Mingyu chose to stare at his reflection’s nose, unable to meet its eyes. Something told him that seeing his reflection eye to eye would not be a good idea.

Please hurry up. Please open the door fast-

His heart jumped again as his phone rang suddenly, cutting the heavy cold silence which was accompanied by the occasional soft dings.

"Hello?” He whispered, wondering who was calling so late at night. It couldn’t have been Seokmin since he had his number saved, right?

“Why did you kill me?”

Mingyu froze, unable to breathe anymore. How did you-

“Y/N? How did you- Kill you- What are you talking about?” He panted, stumbling back to support his wobbly legs with the help of the wall of the lift.

All of a sudden the air felt cooler, and his clammy hands seemed to be unable to grip the hand bar of the lift. His eyes darted to the equally petrified reflection and a yelp escaped him, phone dropping to the ground.

Because standing right beside his reflection was you. You, looking just like how you had the day you were murdered. Except there was blood all over your dress and multiple stab marks on your chest and stomach.

You smiled at him sweetly. 

“Don’t you know? You killed me. Well, not exactly you. It was Mingyu. But he is you, you are him, right?”

His legs finally gave away as he pushed his back into the walls of the elevator, terror filling every single of his senses.

Helphelpelphelp-

He heard the lift ding as it reached the ground floor. Crawling to the buttons of the lift, he frantically pressed the open button, eyes not leaving your face as you grinned at him, baring your bloody and broken teeth.

Finally the door opened and Mingyu darted to crawl out but froze almost immediately, feeling his heart stop for real this time.

“No.” He sobbed, as he watched the real you walk towards him. Edging back, he felt his heart hammer painfully hard in his chest, every bit of rational thoughts leaving him as you stepped into the elevator.

You leaned towards him much to his terror, and Mingyu screwed his eyes shut as he finally accepted his fate. His breathing eased a bit but he could still feel how tense his entire body was, adrenaline rushing coursing throughout his body.

I don’t want to go.

“Now it’s time for me to return the favour.”

A/N: Please do tell me what you think about this story!! I worked really hard on it and I would love to know everyone’s thoughts on it~ Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

© 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐎𝐌 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

[clawsdevour]

࣪˖ ִ˚༄ gojo bf hcs

content warning: fluff, slight smut, cream pie mentioned, praise/degrade mentioned, my shitty writing, not proofread

ಇ.˚₊

-Gojo, the type of boyfriend to randomly spawn outside your house whenever he's finished with his duties. Doesn't matter what time it is, he just wants to see you before he leaves for his next shift. He'd also probably text you so much while he's out to let you know what he's up to.

-Gojo, the type of boyfriend to love holding hands and showing his love for you physically. When you're holding hands, he's definitely the one who's gonna end up swinging you away from happiness. He'd love to just give you simple pecks out of nowhere as well.

-Gojo, the type of boyfriend to always have a hand on you, by your waist or around your shoulders. He'd love to land a smack on your ass whenever you bend over to reach for something. He simply enjoys having your touch on the tips of his fingers.

-Gojo, the type of boyfriend to love going shopping with you. He'd always offer to hold your bags while you looked around and shop. Gojo would pick out something he'd like and tell you try it on for him. He loves waiting outside the dressing room to see you open the curtains in the outfits he picks for you.

-Gojo, the type of boyfriend to call you all the damn time. He's always so deprived to hear your voice ring in your ears. He could be mid-fighting and whip out his little cell phone to dial your number. Whenever he does this he's for sure talking about how he's about to finish this curse off and it cuts to sounds of the curse getting abolished while Gojo snickers in the back.

-Gojo, the type of boyfriend to definitely wow your parents upon meeting him with his eccentric appearance and earth-shattering aura that floods your house. They'd treat them like the special sorcerer he is until he unleashes his silly nature. Gojo absolutely loves your parents and they love him as well.

-Gojo, the type of boyfriend to have different sides to him when it comes to your cunt. It depends on the mood, atmosphere, lighting, and even where you're getting pounded. He'd have his needy moments where he lets you take control and moments where he's dominating you. Either way, his end goal is to make you feel absolute pleasure whenever his dick is inside you.

-Gojo, the type of boyfriend to absolutely tease the hell out of you when you got his mask on your face to surprise you with his touch. He'd edge you so much that he won't let you finish unless you obey all his words. He'd love to degrade you but also praise you while you're at it, saying things like how bad you are for him and how good you take his long slender fingers that curl into your sweet spot.

-Gojo, the type of boyfriend to have his dick fill you up so good you can't even mumble out words but moans. He'd kiss your cervix multiple times, making your spine shiver every time as euphoria washes over you. Gojo's mercilessly thrusting into you, making you lose your mind as always. When he climaxes he's filling your wet cunt to the brim with his milky white essence that seeps out.

-Gojo, the type of boyfriend to hold you close to him so tight after cleaning you up, never letting you go from his deadly grasp. Whenever you try to scooch off of him his needy raspy voice would always whine out 'where are you going?' His sleepy blue orbs would stare down at you while he's planting soft kisses on your head to tempt you to stay with him.

masterlist here

[whirlybirbs]

— BURNER CELL ; 1 ; DABI ; 荼毗

summary: you end up at the league's bar, unbeknownst to you or your drunk friends. you just want to go home. set in the early days of bnha. pairing: dabi / f!reader ; quirkless word count: a cool 1.6k tag: humor, maladjusted dabi meets normal adult woman, flirting, canon-based world building, slight au, univeristy student!reader a/n: this is silly and short but man i really want to write dabi pining over a normal, quirkless person and frothing at the mouth when she doesn't text back for an hour the tag | next →

What's the whole bit about 'secondary locations'...?

You're not sure how you even got roped into this — it's a Thursday, for fuck's sake. You have class tomorrow, and by the time you manage to shepherd the gaggle of girls back into their respective Ubers for the night, you won't be back at your apartment until well into the early hours of the morning. 

You wince into your beer, hoping silently that your cat won't be too mad. Mizu can stand to skip a meal here and there, after all. He's a big boy. (Literally.)

In the booth in the back corner, there's a wave of raucous, tipsy laughter from your friends and their new acquaintances. One of those guys — the one who smells like cigarettes and cheap cologne — has his arm around Nuri. She seems totally into him despite the glimpse of yakuza affiliations painting his skin beneath his purple shirt collar. 

Worry tugs at your heart just as the door to this dour, smoke-filled bar opens. A handful of denizens enter, but you pay more mind to the rows and rows of meticulously stacked liquors from behind the bar.

This place is weird. 

Unsettling. 

It's oddly silent, with some too-quiet music coming from the beat-to-shit jukebox in the corner. The loudest thing in here is the drunk conversation from the group you came in with, and the occasional tinkering of glasses from the sparse few patrons posted up in various booths. 

You lean onto the bar, sigh, and take another long swig of your stale beer.

Note to self: Kamino Ward has the most mid nightlife imaginable. 

Suddenly, someone is shambling up to the stool beside you. 

They smell like cinder and smoke. Like a fire on a cold night. It's not entirely unpleasant, but it flicks some sort of DNA-deep warning bell in the back of your mind. Fire. Run. 

Your lashes flutter over, mid-sip. Then, your eyes widen incrementally as the dawning realization of just who's sitting there slams into you. It's the sort of realization that feels like a baseball bat to the back of the head.

You muscle down the mouthful of flat beer before your lips part in silent astonishment. 

Of all the bars they picked... It had to be the League of Villains' haunt?

Because of course, it had to be. It just had to be more than some scummy, ten-years-their-senior washed-up yakuza throwing drinks at them and promising them a good time, huh? It had to be a secondary location after a too-loud, too-hot nightclub downtown. It had to be this secondary location. 

Dabi clears his throat.

You snap your jaw shut. 

"Thought you were gonna catch flies for a second there," comes a rasped, rough chirp — wholly unbothered.

He isn't looking at you. He's looking ahead, presumably trying to discern what kind of drink he wants tonight. Piercing, turquoise eyes flick about the top shelf.

You have to peel your eyes off him.

Your tongue runs along your teeth as you nod, drumming your fingers against the bar. This is bad. Not ideal. Not great. "Sorry."

You slide a look back over your shoulder and catch Nuri's horrified expression. You follow her frantic eye movement to the other side of the room — it's a screaming look over there — where you spot the other well-known heavy hitters who have carved out their spot in recent news highlights. 

You whip your head back around, mild horror set in your face as you take another pitiful swig of your shitty, shitty, shitty beer. 

This is why there's that saying about secondary locations. 

You press your palms to your eyes as you lean onto the bar. 

"What's wrong with you, pretty? Bad break-up?"

Is he... seriously talking to you right now?

You pull your hands away from your tired eyes, your lips parted again but this time in total dejection. Your make-up is a little smeared; the dark circles beneath your eyes are mostly thanks to finals, but the running mascara doesn't help. 

You're cute.

You wouldn't usually be his type, but... Touya's in a good mood tonight. 

Your eyes rake across his face. 

He isn't entirely bad-looking. The deep, purple burns serve as a reminder of just how dangerous the man before her is. The staples digging into his flesh glint in the light. Your eyes narrow in on the trifecta of piercings on his right nostril. He's tall — lanky, even. 

The bartender, the guy who you're realizing is definitely the one and only Kurogiri from those wanted posters you saw on the outskirts of campus, must have slid him the gin soda that's in his hands. He levels your gaze with his own, punctuating it with a slow sip.

"I'm sorry...?" you ask, your brows knotting.

"Y'know," he remarks casually as he leans back in his chair and sips his drink; turquoise eyes flick back over his shoulder, to the gathered booth, "S'typical — dance the night away, try to forget that gut-wrenching heartache, get a lil' sloppy... Our buddy Giran loves the heartbroken ones."

Oh. So the smelly one is Giran. Good to know.

Great. Awesome. Super duper. 

Your eyes flit shut in quiet frustration. You shake your head. "No. No, I... No, I look like this because I have friends whohave terrible taste in men. Like your buddy Giran—"

Then: "No offense."

Dabi actually laughs. It's a raspy sound — like a wheeze and a cough and a chuckle, all wrapped into one mildly unsettling package. 

"Yer funny," he remarks, pointing with the deeply scarred finger that's holding his glass, "I like that."

"Thanks," you offer up pathetically, "I sorta feel like the court jester right now."

"That so?"

"Gotta jingle my bells a bit little more so you don't turn me into a walking ashtray."

Dabi's grin aches — the staples along his burnt jaw tug lightly and glint in the light. Oh, you're fun. He leans forward onto the bar, his forearms braced against the smooth mahogany. "So you know who I am?"

You stare absently at your half-gone beer. "Yep."

You pop the 'p'. 

"That freak you out?" he asks into his drink.

"What's the answer you wanna hear?" you ask, your brows screwed up in resignation. You just want to go home. You totally want to go home with all your skin intact and no grafts needed. 

"I wanna hear your digits. What's your cell?" 

...It's relatively smooth, all things considered. It takes a second for it to even register that he's asking you that and not some phantom apparition floating somewhere behind you. You even double-take for good measure.

"Y'said you weren't all heartbroken, so I'm assuming you're free game," he supplants, "Unless you got a boy toy or somethin' — not that I care, though."

"And what if I'm some sort of nark?"

Dabi's brow quirks.

"I mean," you shake your head as you realize how bad the mere suggestion sounds, "I'm not but, you don't even know who I am—"

"—Giran wouldnta' brought you an' your little idol group here if he didn't trust you were clean—"

"Great. Awesome," you mutter, taking a long swig of your beer, "Hold on, we're not Girls' Generation—"

"Yea, but yer all pretty," he comments casually, leaning back against the bar as he spreads his legs. He takes up a lot of space. He's dangerously close to encroaching on yours, "What're you? University students?"

You sigh. "Right on the money."

"How th' hell did you all manage to land here?" he sounds incredulous. 

"I couldn't tell you," you mumble as you finish off your beer, "Nuri is the one shacked up with Giran. She met him at the last club we were at. I'm sure it's love at first sight an' all that. Couldn't stand to part ways, so we're here." 

"Riiiiight," he rasps; the gin burns his tongue, "S'a little late for a school night, ain't it, pretty?"

"You wanna tell them that?"

"Might not have to," Dabi rumbles as he juts his jaw their way, "Looks like your little troupe is on th' move."

Oh, thank god. You catch a glimpse of Nuri kissing Giran on the cheek, and the others giving their goodbyes. You're fast to reach into your way-too-little purse, snag your phone, and then unlock it with ease. Within all of five seconds, the rideshare is called. 

You hesitate.

Then, you hand him your phone.

The contact screen is open.

The grin it earns you is mildly unnerving — but there's some charm to it. He's got pretty eyes, and his voice is nice enough to listen to. He didn't incinerate you either, and he called you pretty plenty of times to feed your ego properly. 

You watch him enter his information. It's no doubt the number to some shitty burner he might not have in a week, but... whatever. 

"Thanks for the conversation," you offer weakly as you stand; Dabi is a bit shameless with the way he rakes his eyes across your figure. His version of flirting is a little rudimentary but... it's working, "And not melting my face off, I guess."

"You leak my number," he sips his drink, "No one will ever find your body."

Right.

Cool.

Awesome.

"Didn't plan on it. On that note — my ride's here."

"Get home safe, pretty."

Dabi swigs his drink. He's tracing your figure with his eyes.

"Sounds fake when you say it," you call over your shoulder with a burst of bravery as you walk backward a few steps, hand on the door as you hold it open for your friends, "Aren't you supposed to be, like, a villain or something?"

Oh, he likes you. 

And you fuckin' hate secondary locations.

[cayleeuhithinknott]

exhausted was an understatement. you were absolutely drained. you’d been up on your feet waiting tables since the sun practically rose until now—9pm.

and on top of all this, you still had to clean up your apartment, make a dish for your family reunion tomorrow, and go to the grocery store. it’d been an exasperatingly long day, and it was about to get even worse.

to add to it, you hadn’t seen matt in 3 days. you’ve both been so busy and you so tired, so there was never really time. you’d both agreed you probably weren’t hanging out tonight, either. so with that being said, when you’d finally sat down for 15 minutes before you’d planned to go to the store for groceries, all you could think about was matt. so, of course, you shot him a text. but, of course, your apartment’s cell service sucked, so you had to text him on snapchat as if you were 13 years old.

you

im so insanely tired today was way too much

i think my legs are going to melt away

you hit send with sigh. of course, you get an immediate response.

matt🤬(💞)

is my angel tired :(

do you want me to come over baby?

you

i dont wanna bother you

matt🤬(💞)

never.

be there in 10

you

i love you ☹️

matt🤬(💞)

i love you angel

actually make that around 30 i gotta do something

weird.

you set your phone down, and began to relax some more, getting comfortable under the throw blanket. and as expected, around 30 minutes went by before you heard someone unlocking your door and stepping in. it was matt, of course.

“hey, baby” matt said, kicking the door shut behind him and setting something down on your kitchen counter. you turn around to say hello, only to notice the tons of grocery bags sitting on the counter in front of him. he’d gone to the store for you.

“matt…you didn’t…” you say, getting up from the couch and making your way over to him. you weren’t the greatest at accepting help, and matt knew that. but he was never the type of person to not help you out when you clearly needed it.

“do what?” he asks, feigning obliviousness.

“go to the store! publix! they’re so expensive, matt.” you reply, gesturing to the publix bags filled to the brim.

matt laughs. laughs.

“i know you’re pretty tired, angel. but, i’d never let you go shoppin’ with your legs about to give out.” he teases, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“well…how much were they?” you ask, feeling guilt settle in. matt hums, glancing in the bags. “probably like…95 bucks.” he answers, turning his gaze back to you. your eyes widen. half the time you would deny him spending even 20 dollars on you, let alone 95.

“oh gosh…hold on, let me go get some cash to pay you back-“ you set off to your room to grab your wallet from your purse. yet, as soon as your journey started, it was ended by matt grabbing your wrist and pulling you back over to him.

“absolutely not, angel. you don’t need to worry about that.”

“but-“

“no buts.” he gently presses a finger to your lips, shutting you up. you sigh in defeat. “good girl.” he murmurs with a soft smile, ruffling your hair.

but, you’ve gotta stand your ground somehow.

“i’m paying you back at some point!” you cross your arms. you notice ingredients for mac and cheese in the bags. matt knew you always made it for family events.

he shook his head, his hand moving to your shoulder and rubbing it. “no, you’re really not.” he protests. “but, what you are gonna do is go sit your pretty little ass on the couch while i cook up this mac and cheese.”

“what?”

“you have a family reunion tomorrow, no? you always make mac and cheese. it’s my turn. so go on and relax.”

God, you loved this man.

cutie little blurb cause im lazy 🤩 hope you enjoyed sweet soft bf matt causeeee i have some silly things cooking for him and chris!!!! yayyyyyyyyy

love u and remember to love urself💞

[sheerfreesia007]

Sunkissed

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Word count: 2,798

Content warnings: Fluff

Summary: Chan has planned a fun filled pool day for the boys and you. What happens when you show up in one of your finest bikinis?

Part Two: You, Me & the Deep End

The sun has been absolutely brutal the last few days and it was all starting to get to everyone if the hot tempers of the boys were anything to go by, at least five times Chan had to pull one of the boys away from the other to let them all cool off over an insignificant argument. It wasn’t until Hyunjin had wound up screaming in Felix’s face over some perceived slight that Chan had decided that a pool day was what they all needed, he had even texted you to ask if you wanted to come along since he knew that you were feeling the effects of this heat as well. 

While he had been nervous to ask you to join them all he was glad that he had because he would get to spend some more time with you. Ever since you bumped into Chan a year ago while he and Seungmin were out on a coffee run for the boys he had fallen hard and fast for you. It had been entirely way too easy for him to become smitten with your smile and your kind nature. The way you had easily fit into their group made Chan’s heart race with an anticipation that nearly scared him, but you always managed to reassure him with sweet soft looks and softer smiles that made his chest grow tight and his head fill with a warm fuzzy fog.

The boys had quickly picked up on their leader’s affection for you and whether you were around or not they would constantly tease him about his feelings he was harboring for you. But when you were around them they were more ruthless with their teasing. Chan had been worried about you realizing what the boys were teasing him about but you had remained oblivious to their teasing. And as relieved as Chan was for that it was also frustrating, if you had understood what the boys were teasing him about it would’ve made him confessing his feelings for you slightly less stressful but he wasn’t that lucky.

He hoped eventually he’d grow the courage to confess his feelings to you but so far nothing had happened and he was starting to become desperate. Every time he was around you he could feel his affection and attraction for you swell and pulse inside of him until it was pressing against his skin with its desire to be let out. But whenever Chan would feel the words on the tip of his tongue he would swallow them as doubt crept into his mind and stole his brief spot of courage. It was maddening how many times he had almost confessed to you, there had even been some times when he had confessed his feelings for you while Changbin or Han had been in the studio with you. Changbin and Han had even started a bet on when Chan would finally confess to you and the other boys had eagerly participated in the bet much to Chan’s chagrin.

The chatter of the boys bounced off the walls of the changing room and Chan grinned softly as he heard Seungmin teasing Jeongin for his bathing suit trunks choice as Jeongin snapped back that Seungmin’s swim trunks were boring and he was just jealous of his style choice. He could hear Han and Minho talking to each other about what floats they wanted for themselves as they moved through the large room and Changbin was loudly yelling at Felix and Hyunjin to hurry up. Shaking his head Chan shifted as a soft ping rang out in the room and he dug his cell phone out of the large tote he was carrying that had all their things inside. Looking down at the phone he saw that you had texted him to let him know that you were on your way and should be there in about ten minutes. His grin grew wide across his face as he read the text before he heard Hyunjin and Felix cooing at him from the door leading out to the pool, rolling his eyes he scoffed at the two of them as they laughed loudly at him.

“Is your Jagi finally on her way?” Felix teased softly and Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows at him causing Chan to frown softly.

“She’s not my Jagiya.” Chan retorted tiredly in an annoyed tone while shaking his head as he pushed past the boys and out onto the pool deck.

“YOu wish she was though!” shouted Changbin from where he was standing by the lounge chairs. Chan huffed softly at his friend as the other boys who had already jumped into the pool or sat on the ledge looked over at Chan. He walked slowly over to the lounge chairs and set down the tote before he began pulling out the towels, floats and sunscreen he had packed for all of them.

“Is Chan finally going to confess to Noona?” Jeongin asked as he popped up from underwater and Seungmin laughed in response to his question.

“Leave him alone. He’ll confess when he’s ready.” Minho scolded Jeongin as he kicked water at the younger boy.

“Yah! You just want to win the bet!” shouted Changbin as he ran towards the edge of the pool and jumped into the water splashing Seungmin who shouted at Changbin and began trying to dunk him. Chan rolled his eyes and shook his head at his friends before handing the sunscreen over to Felix who happily took it before moving over to Hyunjin to share the sunscreen. Han grinned at Chan as he quickly grabbed two of the floats for him and Minho before moving back to his friend and they began to blow up the floats.

Quickly the boys settled into a game of pool football while some of them lazed about on the floats or just swam back and forth in the cool water. Chan smiled softly to himself as he watched them all enjoy themselves as they cooled off in the scorching heat that had been affecting them all. It was so nice to finally have peace among the group and Chan found himself soon settling as he sat on the ledge of the pool with his legs dangling in the water. 

He was leaning back on his hands letting the sunk soak into his skin while the water kept his body temperature regulated. He was starting to feel lazy as he relaxed in the sun when suddenly a shadow fell over his face and he opened his eyes from behind his dark sunglasses and spotted you grinning down at him.

“Hey there Chan!” you greeted him happily before you walked over to the lounge chairs and set your own brightly colored tote bag down next to his. Chan quickly scrambled out of the pool causing Minho to cry out as he was splashed by the water with Chan’s quick movement.

“Hey, you finally made it!” Chan greeted you back happily and you smiled over your shoulder at him before you turned to face him. “Do you need to go get changed?” Chan asked distractedly before his eyes widened as he watched you shake your head quickly and reach down to the hem of your t-shirt. He watched silently stunned as you easily slipped your t-shirt off your body before his eyes drank in your bright blue bikini top. Chan swallowed quickly and he could hear soft snickers from behind him but he ignored his friends as his eyes began to dart along your torso before snapping up to your face as you pulled your arms down after taking off your t-shirt.

You effortlessly dropped your t-shirt onto your tote bag behind you before turning back to Chan and began to shimmy out of your jean shorts causing Chan’s eyes to dart down to your hips as the matching bikini bottom was revealed to him. The air in his lungs was punched out of his chest as he spied the bright blue material covering your skin. He watched mesmerized as your hips shifted from side to side as you slid your shorts down your legs before twisting to the side and throwing them onto your bag as well.

When you stood there in front of him in your bikini Chan felt as if he couldn’t catch his breath, you were gorgeous. The blue material accented the wide expanse of bare skin that was on display to him and Chan’s fingers twitched and itched to reach out and touch you but he curbed his desire just barely as he heard the boys snickering again from behind him. 

“Looking good Noona!” called out Changbin from the pool as he effortlessly dragged Jeongin and Hyunjin through the water as they tried to grab the football from his hands. Chan whirled around and glared at Changbin who grinned at him cheekily before dunking Jeongin.

“Thanks Bin!” you chirped at him happily as you peeked around Chan at the boys at the pool with a wide grin on your face. Chan looked over at you and saw how happy you looked to receive a compliment from Changbin and without thinking he opened his mouth to compliment you but Felix spoke up before he could.

“The blue looks great on you Noona.” Felix said as he swam close to the edge of the pool where you and Chan stood.

“Thanks Felix.” you responded softly to him as your face flushed slightly with a pretty blush that caught Chan’s attention and held it for an embarrassingly long moment. “Hey Chan, can you help me with something?” you asked with a soft bashful smile as you looked up at him hopefully.

“Yeah, whatever you need.” he answered, still feeling stunned by how pretty you were as he nodded his head in agreement. He watched as your eyes lit up and your smile broadened across your face.

“Great!” you said thankfully before you turned around and bent over your tote bag digging through it for something. Chan nearly groaned aloud as he spied the blue material stretching across your ass as it bounced slightly right at the perfect height for his hips and hands. He had to quickly turn his head away from you, and think about something other than how perfect your ass looked in your bikini bottoms, when you stood straight once more. Han burst out laughing at the pool edge and Chan glared at him as he and Minho both wiggled their eyebrows at him with smirks on their faces. “Can you help me put my sunscreen on my back?” you asked sweetly and Chan nearly snapped his neck as he whipped his head back to stare at you with wide eyes as Minho burst out laughing loudly at his predicament.

Chan lightly grabbed onto your elbow and began to pull you away from the lounge chairs by the boys to one that was a few chairs down the pool deck and gave you enough distance from the eagerly watching boys so that you had a little bit of privacy. You frowned softly in confusion as you looked up at Chan with worried eyes and he felt his heart thud in his chest at your expression. You were just so kind and sweet that he couldn’t help but fall further for you as he tugged you closer to him.

“Just to give us a little privacy and there’s more shade down here.” he tried to explain away your confusion but you tilted your head to the side still slightly confused as you stared at him. Chan internally groaned at how adorable you were wanting to just reach for you and kiss the expression off your face. He hoped you just accepted what he said and the two of you could move on with his torture, because in all essence of your request this would be torture for him.

“Okay.” you said suddenly with a shrug before you popped open the sunscreen container and began lathering up your legs. Chan blew out a slow breath as he watched you bend forward to get all the way down to your toes before standing straight once again and slathering some onto your stomach. His eyes followed as your hands moved across your stomach and then over your chest, he tried to look away when he saw your hand slip under the strap of your bikini top but he couldn’t. Not when he caught a glimpse of the top swell of your breast and his jaw dropped open in shock as desire coursed through him.

Thankfully he was able to control himself when you suddenly turned to him and held out the tube of sunscreen to him before you turned your back to him. He uncapped the tube and squirted some sunscreen into his palm before tossing the tube to the lounge chair next to the two of you. He then rubbed his hands together before placing his hands on your shoulders. You gasped softly as his hands began to massage the lotion into your skin before his hands traveled up the back of your neck. The shiver that traveled up and down your spine as his fingers dug into the muscles on your neck delighted Chan immensely, the way your body responded to him as it began to relax underneath his touch made him feel giddy with happiness.

He slides his hands back down to your shoulders and hears you softly whine as he digs his fingers into some tight spots that he can feel underneath your skin. The sound of your soft whine shoots straight through his body and he can feel his swim trunks start to grow tight around his groin. He huffs softly and tries to think about anything else so that he won’t embarrass himself in front of you and the boys but you don’t allow him to think of anything else but you as you shift on your feet and let your head fall back on your neck as you whimper softly. Chan stares down at you in awe as your face is tilted up to him and your eyes flutter shut in pleasure at his ministrations. Your lips part softly with slightly panting breaths and your tongue quickly darts across your bottom lip wetting it to make it sparkle in the sunlight.

Slowly dragging his hands down your back to the waistband of your bikini bottoms he watches as your body shifts closer back towards him and your eyebrows furrow slightly as his fingers dig into your lower back. The soft groan that rips from your mouth nearly brings him to his knees but he plants his feet and then drags his hands back up your body making sure to get under the strap across your back. Chan can feel his own breathing start to match your stuttered breaths and he watches as your eyes flutter open for a brief moment and you grin widely up at him.

“Hey space cadet, did I lose you?” you ask him softly and he flinches at your question before he realizes that he had stopped rubbing sunscreen into your skin. He quickly shakes his head chuckling softly at your teasing before going back to massaging the lotion into your skin which causes you to shut your eyes quickly and your mouth to part once again. Chan gets lost in the monotonous movement of slathering you with sunscreen and soon the two of you are only separated by an inch of open air as you softly whimper and groan at the soothing sensation you get from his massage. When he’s done Chan leans that inch forward to whisper in your ear.

“All done pretty girl.” he whispers and your eyes flutter open to stare up at him as he towers over you, locking his eyes with yours. You gasp softly at whatever look you see on his face before your whole body shivers against his as his hand slides around your neck to rest just under your jawbone. “Can I kiss you pretty girl?” he asks softly and watches as your eyes widen with desire pooling in your sparkling orbs as your face heats with a soft blush.

“Thought you’d never ask.” you whisper to him and Chan leans down to crash his lips to yours while keeping your head tilted back. He groans softly into your pliant mouth at the first touch of your lips together before he maneuvers you into a more comfortable position as he deepens the kiss. His hands easily fall to your waist and drag you flush to his body just as the boys can be heard cheering loudly and splashing in the pool while your arms loop around his neck and you kiss him back. 

[totallynotslothhh]

HOLD ME TIGHT

pairing: joost klein x fem!reader

word count: 4,674

warning: smut, smoking, alcohol, oral!fem receiving, lil angst and fluff ig, fwb

description: The confusion in y/n’s mind intertwined with the sadness of seeing her long-time ex with another girl. Joost, a guy from the same group of her friends, suggests starting a particular relationship that will forever alter their friendship.

author’s note: I wrote this story while my favorite series was playing in the background, and I discovered a new way to focus. Incredible, but true. ANYWAY, sorry for the delay, but I’ve been busy all week and I wanted this first part to come out especially well to kick off the rest of the story. As always, let me know if you like the idea, if you’d like to read more. Personally, I really love this mix of tension and sweetness, and whatever other adjective you want to attach to it.

I’ll leave you to the read. See you soon.

big kisses!

(sorry if there are grammatical errors, I tried my best, English is not my first language!!!🙏)

part.1 part.2 part.3

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The cold air of the night breeze hit my bare skin so sweetly that I felt almost cradled by that freshness, which gradually made the fiery red color fade from my cheeks, a color that had framed my face for the past few hours. I had lost track of how many minutes had passed since I stepped out onto the little balcony of my friend’s house. She had organized a party and decided to invite me, or better yet, force me to come. Everyone had noticed my bad mood, which had now been lingering for five months.

The most frustrating, miserable, and exhausting five months of my entire life.

I sighed, closing my eyes and bringing the rim of a plastic cup filled with beer to my lips, lips once painted in a dark, now faded violet. The hours spent inside the house and the sticky, humid July air had ruined the makeup I’d done earlier that afternoon. I was sleepy, maybe even a little high; the alcohol coursing through my veins had relaxed every tense cell and was making me lose myself in a stream of thoughts that had no shape.

It was abstract, slow, and chaotic.

Thoughts tangled with the heaviness on my eyelids and on my heart.

They were just thoughts.

All kinds of thoughts, all trying to ignore the reality I was in.

Seeing my longtime ex with another girl had made me nauseous that morning, seeing the person I had spent more than three years with, after dumping me in the most pathetic way, through text messages, now, five months later, there he was with a new girl. It made me feel stupid. Twice as stupid. Because it wasn’t the first time he’d made me feel like this.

-Am I the only one who’s still hurting over him?-

-Should I just move on?-

-Is it me? Or is he the asshole?-

-Am I supposed to feel this way? Is it okay to feel this way?-

The cold, bitter beer slid down my throat, and with every sip, I felt closer to complete confusion. The questions that had been bouncing around in my head in the first weeks after the breakup were resurfacing, even stronger now. I thought I was moving on, detaching myself from him, finally feeling free.

And then the photo. That damn photo: of him with his new girlfriend asleep next to him. A new girl… with my ex. My heart dropped, my breath caught, and my eyes watered. The same heart that was now racing in my chest, the same breath that now reeked of alcohol and cigarettes, the same eyes now lost and staring blankly ahead.

The party hadn’t lifted my spirits, it had only drowned me deeper in my crashing waves of thought. Deeper in despair.

I was hunched over the railing, arms resting on it, hands holding the cup. I was probably radiating negativity and gloom from every pore. I hadn’t had a good evening, probably because of the dark cloud that hovered around me and the moody expression that had settled on my face without me realizing.

“Everything okay?” The deep voice behind me made me shiver for a moment. I knew who it was, even if it took me a second longer than usual to recognize him. Strangely, I managed to, and turned just enough to glance back at him, checking that he was, in fact, talking to me. Joost. I had met him a few years ago at a mutual friend’s birthday party. Since then, at nearly every event, gathering, or hangout, he was there. He was outgoing, kind, and I enjoyed being around him. It didn’t surprise me that he was worried about me, it surprised me that he noticed me alone on the balcony.

There were a lot of people, and yet he noticed me.

I straightened up and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, giving a faint smile, feeling almost shy at his interest.

“Yeah, thanks” I don’t know why my voice came out so small, but it felt like he had barged into my mental spiral, abruptly stopping the flow. I felt exposed, just from his gaze alone. I would’ve felt that way even if it had been anyone else.

“Are you sure? I saw you from across the room earlier and got worried.” He stepped slightly closer, and I smiled again, my eyes turning into tired little crescents. I leaned my elbows on the railing again and took another sip of beer, catching Joost out of the corner of my eye as he leaned back against the railing, cigarette between his lips, lighting it up.

“Yes… I mean, the usual stuff.” I answered simply, resting my head on my hand and turning my gaze to the guy next to me. That night, strangely, he looked really attractive to me. Never before had he seemed this good-looking: tousled blonde hair, nose and cheeks slightly red, a white T-shirt under a short-sleeved, open black shirt, dark baggy jeans that fell below his knees. Maybe he always dressed like that, he had a unique way of expressing himself, even in his music.

But that night, I particularly appreciated it.

Not that I knew much about his music career, he’d played me something once during a night we ended up chatting and smoking on the rooftop of a mutual friend. I was mesmerized watching him: how he drew from the cigarette, how his blue eyes squinted with each puff, how he tilted his head back as he exhaled the smoke. His signature glasses, his neat mustache framing his lips, it all made me ask myself, in my altered state:

-Why is he here next to me?-

-Why is he interested in me now, of all times?-

“Hey, are you listening to me?” His voice cut into my mind suddenly, pulling me out of the trance I had slipped into while staring at him, almost in admiration. I shook my head slightly and let out a faint laugh, realizing how I must’ve looked to him: a girl completely lost in the fog of her own mind. A smile spread across his face, dimples deepening on his cheeks.

“Sorry, I was just- just thinking… What did you say?” I asked, tilting my head slightly, trying to focus on his words.

“I asked if you wanted a hit” he said, offering me the cigarette he held between his fingers. I stared at it for a moment before taking it, my lipstick leaving a faint mark on the filter, one he didn’t seem to mind, since he took it back and kept smoking like nothing had happened.

I finished the last sip of my beer, then mirrored his posture, gripping the railing with both hands.

There was a strangely pleasant silence.

A backdrop to our slow and likely fleeting conversation, yet it was enough to distract me from my relentless thoughts, flowing like a waterfall.

“I heard you broke up a few months ago” he said softly, almost as if he feared he was treading on a sensitive topic. Which… it was.

A very sensitive one.

“Yeah… it’s kind of a long story. I wouldn’t want to bore you” I said, eyes dropping to my shoes, which I had lined up together, while my free hand played with the hem of my shorts.

“I’ve got nothing else to do. I wouldn’t have come over if I didn’t care.” His warm voice, his comforting words, his presence beside me, all of it nudged me to open up.

I looked up again, my eyes falling on the old ashtray on a small table in front of me, filled with cigarette butts probably a week old.

“He dumped me, with a message.” I glanced at him. His eyes widened in surprise.

A confused frown crossed his face, then his gaze dropped to mine, maybe trying to read the dark circles under my eyes, my heavy eyelids. Maybe trying to understand if he heard me right.

I smiled a little, finding the whole thing oddly amusing. From an outsider’s perspective, it must’ve all seemed strange.

But it was okay. Seeing his gaze fall on my curved lips was okay. It was exactly what I needed that night.

“No way, you’re joking” he said with a light laugh, matching mine. He probably thought I was kidding, that no guy who seemed that in love would break up with someone that way.

Yeah, I thought the same thing five months ago.

“If it weren’t true, I’d sleep more than four hours a night. He chose to be a jerk” I replied with a bitter half-joke, watching his expression soften more with every word I said. “Stuff like that happens, I mean, I try not to think about it too much… or at least I’m trying not to. It hurt, but life goes on… at least I think so.” I chuckled softly, placing my hands back on the railing and tilting my head toward the sky.

I felt Joost’s gaze, heavy on my lips, then on my whole face. I could’ve sworn the alcohol in my system was making me enjoy these little attentions far too much.

I didn’t really want to be alone.

I didn’t want to be left drowning in my own thoughts.

I needed someone to tell me everything was okay, even if everything felt wrong. And it was fine that it was Joost who was with me.

It was fine that it was Joost looking at me like that.

“I can’t believe he broke up with you over a message” he said, and I heard the sound of his hands sliding into his pockets after finishing his cigarette. He shook his head, shrugging slightly. My eyes stayed locked on him. It felt almost instinctive to bite my lower lip as I looked at him.

“I wouldn’t have treated you like that.” He met my gaze. There was a pause before he said those words, and they made me smile, an honest, amused smile, as if teasing him. I kept my eyes on his and raised my eyebrows in a playful challenge, noticing how he tilted his head slightly, mimicking my expression.

“What? You don’t believe me?” he said, squinting slightly, clearly waiting for a reaction. The air between us was growing electric, and my soft laugh only made it worse, or better. A shiver ran down my spine, and suddenly my thoughts drifted to what could happen if the tension between us grew even thicker. And the thought… oh, it was tempting.

“Should I believe you? You don’t even know me that well, what if you’d treat me worse?” I teased, shifting back to my original position: body leaning against the railing, but now my head fully turned toward him. He hadn’t moved, still holding that challenging stance, though now with his arms crossed across his chest.

“You don’t need to know everything about someone to treat them with dignity.” His voice had softened into something warm, even comforting, but his gaze and the cocky half-smile on his lips said something else entirely.

They spoke of desire. Or maybe I was just imagining it.

“But still… knowing someone matters. You don’t know what I like, what I can’t stand, what I do when I’m sad… you don’t know anything about me, and yet you say you’d treat me differently?” Our eye contact lingered while I crossed my legs and narrowed my eyes in response to his. I hadn’t flirted like this in nearly four years, and my heart started pounding, releasing a rush of adrenaline I hadn’t felt in forever.

-He’s already treating you differently-

“That’s another phase of getting to know someone, don’t you think? Maybe a deeper kind of knowing…” he said, and I saw his hand rise. I instinctively pulled back a bit, but then felt his fingertips brush against my cheek, gently tucking away a loose strand of hair that had fallen in front of my face. He was caressing my cheek, and it stirred a hollow ache in my stomach that made me smile. He seemed to like that smile. His eyes lingered on me a few seconds too long.

“You’d need that to really know if you’d treat me better or worse” I murmured, pressing my cheek into his warm palm, his fingertip gently tracing along my cheekbone.

“Why are you fighting this so much? Can’t you just admit I’m better than him? Even just in this conversation?” he asked, and I suddenly felt completely vulnerable. I lowered my gaze, and he followed it right away, that same little smirk on his lips, his hand steady and gentle on my face.

-He was right. He probably was. Most likely.-

“Look at me, y/n” he murmured, letting his fingers slide to my jaw, lifting my chin ever so slightly to guide my gaze back to him.

-When did he get so confident? So bold?-

“You’re playing dirty…” I whispered, locking eyes with his again, my cheeks warming under the tension of the moment. I felt completely lost. He was talking too much and doing too little.

If we didn’t end up in bed that night, I was going to be seriously disappointed.

“You’re taking advantage of a girl who just got dumped… mhhh, not so much better, Mr. Klein” I whispered, my eyes dropping from his to his lips. He liked that. I could tell from the low chuckle and the way he sighed. He let go of my chin and slid his hand back into his pocket, licking his lips.

I could see his mind racing, lingering on thoughts for long, quiet seconds, which gave me the illusion I had the upper hand.

-Upper hand on what? On a conversation that’s leading us to fuck?-

The thought made me laugh, and I let the sound slip out, still watching him, waiting for a reply.

“Aren’t you the one keeping this going?” he said, mock confused, raising an eyebrow and making a dramatic little frown. I rolled my eyes and bit my lip to stifle another laugh.

“You started it” I shot back, sticking out my tongue at him and letting my giggle spill freely. I placed my hands behind my back almost childishly, noticing the way his eyes dropped to my body, lingering a second longer on the low neckline of my fitted short-sleeved top I’d chosen for the party.

Joost could look. I was fine with it. I wanted him to.

-How long has it been since someone looked at you like that?-

“Why don’t you shut up for a bit?” The words landed directly in my ears, and I didn’t get a chance to respond, because he leaned down and crashed his lips onto mine.

I gasped at the contact, instantly reaching up to cup his face, feeling his hands grab my hips, then slide briefly along the curve of my back. His lips were desperate against mine, his tongue pushing into my mouth so quickly it made my whole body pulse with heat, lower. I hadn’t felt that in months.

I was getting wet so fast it was almost embarrassing.

-Would he have found that pathetic? No, he’s not the type-

His cheeks under my hands were just where they needed to be, and when his grip on my hips tightened, pulling me closer to him, I let out a muffled moan into his mouth, answering every needy, filthy movement of his lips.

We were two people who couldn’t wait to discover each other under the sheets.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or that natural craving to connect with someone physically, or maybe it was Joost’s inner and outer beauty, maybe it was all of it combined that made me say yes to going to his place. He whispered the suggestion against my lips after that passionate, promising kiss.

And just fifteen minutes later, we were in Joost’s hallway. We barely made it inside before crashing into each other again. I felt his hands grab my face, his lips returning to mine, his breath rushed and full of lust. The taste of alcohol and cigarette was back in my mouth as I kissed him again. I pressed my hands to his chest, fisting the fabric of his shirt and tugging it off him, letting it fall to the floor without a second thought. Now my hands were on his bare arms.

He groaned into the kiss, slipping his hands under my bare legs. I wrapped myself around him, legs around his waist, arms around his shoulders, and we didn’t even pause the kiss: frenzied, wet, now layered with hunger.

We’d already spent what felt like hours kissing on that balcony, with the late-night chill cooling our flushed bodies.

But now, there was no more time to waste.

-Maybe I really could forget my ex.-

“I really want to see if I’m not better than him” I heard whispered in my ear, still clinging to him as he walked toward the bedroom. I was so dazed I didn’t even look around, I didn’t inspect even a single inch of the apartment he lived in; the feeling of his hands gripping my ass, his breath against my neck, the scent of his skin, and simply his presence made me weak.

I felt myself laid down onto the mattress, relaxed against the cool sheets of his bed, which felt like they had been arranged just for that moment. I sighed, biting my lower lip and fixing my gaze on Joost’s body as he undressed: he had taken off his shirt and was unbuckling his belt while keeping his eyes locked on mine.

“So sure of yourself?” I murmured, spreading my legs and raising my knees, almost like an invitation for him to descend onto my still-clothed body. He left the belt undone, his jeans unzipped, but didn’t take them off, in fact, he left them on even as he began to take care of me.

His fingertips gripped the hem of my shirt, using his gaze to let me know I needed to lift up. After pulling it off, his lips went straight to my neck, and his hands worked on the button of my shorts. He didn’t even manage to take them off before sliding his hand inside and caressing my wetness, even through my panties.

I muttered a few disjointed words, sounding more like pleading than anything else, arched my back, and ran my hands into his blond hair. His lips traveled down to my chest, leaving kisses, gentle bites, and teasing licks on the bits of skin exposed by my still-on black bra, which I wouldn’t remove until the act itself. His body over mine, his fingers circling my throbbing clit, and his lips hungrily, relentlessly moving down my belly.

I felt like the center of attention.

I felt truly seen by someone in that moment.

His seductive eyes sought mine, filled with pleasure not yet released.

“Please…” I whispered breathlessly, tugging at his hair to tell him to move. The more I trembled, the more he moved his hand, eventually pushing my panties aside and sliding his middle finger into my wetness. The obscene sounds left my lips as if they’d always belonged there.

I shut my eyes, arching my back, one hand gripping the sheet below me, which grew messier with each of Joost’s movements.

“so needy…” he said, lips brushing against the goosebumped skin of my belly, his finger continuing inside me, pressing exactly where it made me melt. I lifted my hips to encourage him, groaning in frustration when he withdrew his finger, leaving me empty for a few seconds just to pull down both my shorts and panties.

I flushed, throwing my head back into the pillow as I felt his warm breath against my core. No further words were needed before I felt the tickle of his mustache on my mound, and his hot, wet tongue traced precise licks along my entrance. I barely held in a moan, both hands gripping his hair and pushing him against me. I felt him smile against my skin, only encouraging him further.

His lips latched onto my throbbing bud, sending shocks of pleasure through my entire body.

The electricity hit its peak when he suddenly inserted both his index and middle finger, adding a steady rhythm along with his frantic tongue on my clit.

I was going insane. That combination of movements, the obscene sounds from the clash of my fluids and his saliva, his occasional gaze, everything was perfect.

He kept licking, sucking, rubbing his lips against my entrance; sliding his fingers in and out, his fingertips working the same magic as before. I wrapped my legs around his head, gently pressing his cheeks against my hot thighs, making him groan, a sound that only added to the intensity rushing toward its peak with each minute.

His jaw was probably starting to ache, but I never once felt him pause, not unless it was to slightly shift his tongue’s rhythm. I was writhing beneath him, feeling the orgasm build closer. I gripped his hair, placed my feet on his back, thrusting my hips into his mouth and moaning loudly.

“Yes! Yes… please, Joost…” My pleas pushed him to continue, keeping that same pace until he felt my juices surge and my muscles tighten. I came quickly, moaning and tensing as he only stopped once I had completely ridden the orgasm. Panting, with a sheen of sweat on my body, I lifted my dazed eyes to look at him. He rose, equally breathless, his lips and chin glistening with my release.

“I need to fuck you.” he said, pulling himself up fully, his lips crashing onto mine in hungry kisses and bites, muffling our messy noises, which spoke only of desire.

After a few minutes, he managed to retrieve a condom from the top drawer of the nightstand. I didn’t give him time: while he was busy opening it, I had already dragged him back down beside me, lips plastered to his, leaving wet, desperate kisses from his lips to his neck to his arm, needy, tender kisses, full of unspoken words and overwhelming feelings.

“y/n, wait…” he chuckled, tossing the wrapper to the floor and sliding the condom on, as I kept nibbling gently on his shoulder, watching him crawl back over me with the same hunger as before.

“You really can’t wait five minutes? I just made you come” he said, smiling and glancing from my eyes to my lips, hands gripping the backs of my thighs.

“Aren’t you supposed to prove you’re better?” I teased, hands on his shoulders, laughing softly before moaning as I felt his length push inside me.

It was the most frantic, sweet, attentive fuck of my life.

His hips moved between deep, hard thrusts and slow, reassuring ones; words exchanged between carnal passion and ones that made me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world.

A rollercoaster. That’s what it was.

His exhausted, sweaty body lay collapsed on mine, fists clenched beside my head, his face next to mine, his cock buried deep inside me. My legs were still wrapped around his waist, my nails now gently tracing his back after having scratched it with impulsive intensity at every deep thrust.

I kept my eyes closed, maybe afraid to open them and realize it had all been a dream.

-Maybe afraid to open them and realize I could live without my ex-

One of the most fulfilling sensations of my life. The two most intense orgasms I’d ever had.

They had erased every thought, every fear, every bad emotion. Feeling Joost’s body against mine, his heavy breath in my ear, made me feel alive again.

“You okay?” he whispered into the crook of my neck, leaving little kisses to check on me since I hadn’t moved a muscle.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m good” I answered in a whisper, running my hands slowly through his hair as he pulled back slightly to catch his breath, his gaze roaming over my naked body. I let my hands fall to his chest, a small smile forming as I noticed the faint red marks I had left on his pale skin, dotted with occasional tattoos.

“You?” I asked in return, holding his gaze for a few seconds before unhooking my legs from his waist, letting him pull out.

Which he did, removed the condom and tossed it in the bin next to the bed.

“Never been better” he replied, lying down beside me and, with a natural gesture, pulled the sheet over both of us, assuming without asking that I’d be staying the night.

I accepted the silent decision and curled up on my stomach, closing my eyes and listening only to the slowing beat of my heart, still coming down from the high.

Joost’s naked warmth was the perfect lullaby, but I wasn’t sure I could treat it like it was just casual sex.

-I needed all of it. I needed that warmth-

I opened my eyes and found him already looking at me with those blue eyes that radiated so much certainty, it made me shy.

He noticed. He noticed my shyness, and it made him chuckle.

“Are you laughing at me?” I asked, hugging the soft pillow for a bit more confidence.

“Why?” his raspy voice perfectly framed the image of his tired but relaxed face. He placed a hand on my lower back, moving gently closer until he curled up beside me. I looked at him with those doe eyes I knew had a certain effect on him; he kept eye contact and nestled his head against my arm.

“You are laughing” I said again, sliding my arm around his shoulders, turning immediately toward him, embracing him. In turn, he ran a hand down my back and slowly closed his eyes, nuzzling against my chest, resting his head on my breast.

“Because you’re cute.” That sentence made me smile. I ran my hands through his hair and tangled my legs with his long ones.

“And that’s a good reason to laugh?” I asked, my face close to his as he lifted his head to look at me. A small hum came from his lips as he glanced over my tired face.

“We should do this more often… now that you don’t have a boyfriend…I mean, I just liked it. I like you” he said, stumbling a little but clearly trying to communicate his thoughts.

A thought that took root in my head.

A thought that left a hollow feeling in my stomach.

A thought that made my fingers tingle, which I kept busy stroking his soft hair I had been pulling just moments ago in ecstasy.

Pleasure, felt physically and emotionally.

Pleasure I’d gladly feel again.

Pleasure I hadn’t felt in a long time, wasted thinking about a guy who no longer wanted me the same way.

“Yeah…” I could only manage to respond with a breath, realizing I hadn’t even noticed I was holding it.

That night was just the first of many we’d spend tangled together, lost in each other’s warmth. Exhausted after sex, using it purely as an outlet. The following morning was just the first of many we’d spend drinking coffee together, watching each other, and truly discovering one another, piece by piece, we were building something not just physical, maybe something emotional.

Every glance, every word, every moment pulled me further from the image I had of my ex.

And I wondered: was I doing the right thing?

All this physicality with Joost, was it really what I needed? Was I just using him? Did the warmth that filled my heart every time he held and kissed me mean anything? Or was it just pure surface level emotion?

That thought haunted me. And while part of me was happy every time I was with him, another part wasn’t sure I understood the situation I was in anymore.

[natsaffection]

Apologize.

Sugar Mommy!Natasha x sugar baby!Reader

MINORS DNI 18+!

Summary: Natasha let you apologize to her employees

Warnings: Age gap! (N= 37 R= 21), BDSM themes, Mommy kink, spanking, fingering (while watched), degration

Word count: 2,3k

A/n: Happy New year! What better way to start the year than by cumming 4 times bc of this amazing creature? What? Never mind 🔊

💵 This plays in the My sweet Baby universe 💵

-

The soft glow of dawn seeped through the large windows of Natasha's penthouse, casting a warm hue across the room. She stirred from her peaceful slumber, a contrast to the groggy but content figure beside her – You.

She, with her graceful demeanor, carefully extricated herself from the cozy embrace, causing you to mumble in protest. „it's Saturdayyy, Why are you getting up so early?"

Natasha smirking and looking back to you, "Some of us have responsibilities, little girl. Work doesn't take weekends off." You, still half-asleep, pouted as Natasha leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I'll be back soon. Try to get some more sleep."

"Mmm, too early for responsibilities.."

As Natasha prepared for the day, the scent of fresh coffee filled the air. You, now more awake, shuffled into the kitchen in one of Natasha's oversized shirts. "You make the best coffee, you know?" Natasha looks behind her, surprised that you are awake now and have gotten up, "One of my many talents.."

You leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Natasha with a mix of admiration and love. Despite the early hour, Natasha's presence radiated confidence and grace. "It won't be too long. What do you have planned for the day?"

you accepted the cup she gave you and thought for a moment "well, Maybe a lazy day in, catching up on shows. You know..the usual."

"Sounds perfect. I'll be back before you know it." Before she goes, she looked at one of her Maiden, “Make sure she gets a good breakfast, I’ll be off for the day.”

“Of course, Mrs. Romanoff. Safe travels.”

As Natasha prepared to leave, she glanced toward the kitchen, catching your eye. „Please don’t made a mess while I’m gone.“

You weren't sure what she meant, but you just smiled innocently and nodded. Natasha takes another quick look around and leaves the house to go to work. As you hear the car drive further and further away, you think about what you can do today. Natasha's house all to yourself? You have to make the most of it.

You get up and put your cup in the sink and before one of the maids could take it, you jump in, "if you like, you can go home.."

She looked at you and just smiled as she picked up the cup, "Don't worry, Ms. Y/n it's fine." But you wouldn't be dissuaded "come on! Surely you have things to do? What's the big deal?"

You put on your puppy dog face and take the cup from her again. She looks at you and relents, "okay fine, but I'll be back in a few hours." Before closing the door, she looks back and bows, "Thank you, Ms Y/n"

And now you're storm free. If you're honest, you already had a plan. You pull out your cell phone and text Kate to see if she's up for a game. Knowing her, she agrees and a little later all you could hear was your screams in the living room.

"Go on, Kate!"

The living room echoed with the sounds of virtual warfare and animated banter as you and Kate immersed yourselves in their gaming session. The excitement mounted and soon you’re playful trash talk escalated to full-blown screams.

"Take that! In your face!"

"No way! I totally had you!"

"Admit it, Kate. I'm the gaming champion!"

"Oh, you wish! Prepare for the ultimate comeback!"

The planned two hours turned into seven and one cup ended up being more. A bag of potato chips here and a salad there. Of course, that wasn't enough, and 2 cartoons of pizza were also added.

You had completely lost track of time and didn't even notice when Maria and the others entered the house and stood there in complete shock. As if it wasn't going to get any better, they heard the keys to the front door and a second later a stressed Natasha came in, exhausted from the day

As Natasha entered her penthouse, she noticed that the hallway was already bustling with people. She put her bags down and called Maria.

"What's going on?"

Maria fidgeting nervously, "Um, well, Mrs. Romanoff,..." Natasha sensed the hesitation and raised an eyebrow. "What is it, Maria? Speak up."

Maria was split between coming to your defense and speaking the truth of her bite "It's just that, um, Miss Y/N may have gotten a little carried away with her activities today. The dishes are piling up, well, the living room isn't exactly in its usual state."

Natasha's expression became serious "I see. Thank you for the information."

"I'm sorry if I -"

"It's not your fault. I appreciate your honesty. I'll take care of it."

Maria nodded and Natasha proceeded to confront you. When she arrived in the living room, she understood what Maria meant. It looked disastrous and you were sitting in the middle of it. With wide headphones on and shouting into them as if you couldn't be heard.

You, on the other hand, were so absorbed in your world that you didn't even notice Natasha grabbing the remote control and switching off the TV. You were so baffled and thought it was a mishap that you read it out like that „NO! What the hell!!! Why is now-" As you get up, you collide with Natasha and fall back onto the couch, "Nat! What are you doing here already?"

She, however, was totally unenthusiastic and you could see that in her eyes, "Already? Y/n have you looked at the time? It's 6 pm! How long have you been sitting in front of that thing?" You repeat what she said and look in shock at the big clock on the wall and your heart stops. Fuck. At that moment you remembered everything else and looked around. Your garbage was everywhere, pizza boxes, forks, empty bottles, the sink was full to the brim, stains everywhere, "U-Uhm...I must have forgotten the time..."

Natasha swallowed her nerves and put the remote back down, "looks like it! You have 10 minutes to clean up the mess. I'm going to take a shower, the day hasn't been stressful enough."

Wow, she sounds like your mom when you were little. Why do they always want you to do it right away? You sigh and lean against the couch again to get away from all the trouble, but Natasha doesn't like that, "What do you think you're doing? Come on, clean up."

You rolled your eyes and your mouth was faster than your brain "come on clean up... Why doesn't Maria do it or something..." when you had spoken it, you remained frozen and literally prayed that Natasha hadn't heard. You turn around, heart pounding, and see her staring at you. Now you really have it. "I-I didn't mean that! I-!"

"Undress."

You blink, what did she say?

Natasha's nostrils flared, her chest rose and fell. "Ah, not so chatty now?" she walks up to you and lifted your chin, "what's wrong? Color?“ Despite the situation, your stomach flutters that she could switch her emotions so much and now asked you about your condition, „G-Green, it's just..what if the others come in?"

Natasha in turn, grinned, "Oh sladost (darling), if that's it..don't worry about it. Now turn around, knees, hands on the floor, and ass in the air.“

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you turned around. Lower your hands to the floor and kneel on the ground. You hear Natasha sit down on the couch and seconds later, came the first blow, "I won't stop until your ass is purple," she announced casually and started again, "You don't have to count this time. But you better be prepared to barely be able to sit for the next week."

You try as hard as you can to stay quiet, so as not to make Natasha any angrier and let the spanks wash over you. After 10 strokes, she leans over you and asks in your ear, "Color?" You exhale deeply and with wiggling arms you say, "Green..."

Natasha leaned back again, "stand up and look at me." You do as she said and now stand in front of her with trembling legs. She leans up again, and looks up at you, "Do you trust me?" You didn't know exactly what she meant by that, but you were clear about one thing, "Of course, Mommy. Always." You see her smiling contentedly, "well then. Off to the corner back there, on your knees and hands behind your back." Your eyes widen. That was new. "M-Mommy..why-"

"Don't question me, or your punishment will be even longer."

You let out a shaky breath and angrily do as she said. When you were in position, Natasha finally stood up, "Come in and clean up please."

Your breath caught in your throat. This isn't really happening.

Natasha looked at you as Maria and the others entered the room to clean up the mess you had made. They didn't even glance at you because they knew what was going to happen if. You, however, didn't know and felt totally exposed. You feel your hands grow cold and close your eyes so that you can drown in the shame of strangers.

"I know it's a lot, but try to do it in ten minutes. I'm finally going to take my shower, and you over there! Don't move an inch." She looks at you again to make sure you've understood. You just whisper "Y-Yes, Mommy.." to yourself and then hear her leave the room. You also heard the maids running through the room to remove the dirt. You just wanted to sink into the ground and try to think of something else.

When Natasha came back exactly 10 minutes later, she was proud to see that not only did the room look clean again, but you were still kneeling in your corner. "What a good girl you can be. Come here."

You stood up and your knees were red due the kneeling. Turning around, you took in the room again and looked around for the maids, but found none. You slowly approached Natasha and she welcomed you with her hands on your hips and looked down at you. "Jump."

You knew what that meant and you jump, wrapping your legs around her, thinking you were both going up to her bedroom now. But you were wrong. She angrily moved you to the couch and put you down again. She kissed you and swallowed your moans that you let out. Then she kissed her way down and stood up again. She took one hand and stroked it from your thigh down to your knee and lifted it slightly. She put her tongue on it and licked her way back up to your throbbing spot, not taking her eyes off you for a second. When she finally took your clit in her mouth, she held your thighs down so you couldn't bend too far and you moaned.

"You are fabulous, your cunt is fabulous." She poked her tongue in, and you put your hands over your mouth, afraid that the others were still around. Natasha noticed this and pulled her tongue out of you. She reached under your back and pulled you up to her. She turned you so that your back was now leaning against her chest. She didn't hesitate for a second and immediately filled you with her fingers "Ah! This p-position! It’s ..."

Natasha wraps an arm around you and pulls you even closer, thrusting deeper into you. You leaned forward to somehow release the pressure, but fearing you were mistaken, Natasha turned you and leaned you against the wall with a hard thrust. She attacks your neck and pumped her fingers in and out, if she didn't hold you against the wall, you would surely slide up and down, „It’s t-too r-rough , my back..."

She lifted one thigh so you could put some weight on it and continued with her temp, "come in."

You were preoccupied with yourself, but when you heard, "Ms. Romanoff." your eyes shot open and you saw Maria standing right in front of you with her head down.

Natasha looked at you, "Apologize to her." Your head is spinning and Natasha's fingers just wouldn't stop pumping continuously in your pussy, this time her thumb rubbing wildly against your clit, "tell her you're sorry for the mess and for the fact that she cleaned it up!"

She gave a strong thrust which made you slide up a little and groan, "I'm sorry! Ah-no ..please..I'm..s-sorry! Ah-h!!!" Natasha was still pushing, "for..?"

She can't be serious..you could barely think, "t-the filth..please.."

"Apology accepted, Ms. Y/n, thank you." You managed to open your eyes a little and blurred to see that Maris still had her head bent down.

"Dismissed." natasha told her in a cold tone and Maria left the room again. Now, Natasha looked at you again, "how's it looking? Lesson learned?" You were literally drooling on her shoulder and could almost just nod, "y-yes..I'm sorry..please..I'm almost there-"

Natasha had to chuckle and applied pressure to her hand one last time. You tensed and held onto her shoulder like you would die if you fell off and before you knew it You came all over her, completely staining her and the floor in your wetness.

Natasha had to hold you so you didn't slip out of her arms. She lifted you bridestyle and you leaned against her chest. This time she really is on her way to the bedroom and as she climbs the stairs she looks at you again and speaks softly, "You know they never seen you from the front. The sight is only for me and especially only for you, okay?"

You wanted to say something about how nice you thought the gesture was, but you just couldn't find the strength and fall into a deep sleep.

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I wannaaaaa

[userpeggycarter]

@lgbtqcreators creator bingo 💖 animation.

PEGGY WEEK 2024

day seven — birthday extravaganza 🥳

OMG its Blorbo Bleebus!

[in ● sp] [id under the cut]

gifset about Peggy Carter from the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

gif 1 of 7. two close-up shots of Peggy are blended together. at the middle, there's a static image of Peggy with her arms crossed. the text says, "OMG this motherfucker is Peggy Carter".

gif 2 of 7. two gifs of Peggy are blended together. there are stats bars at the bottom of the gif. the pairings (extremities) are:

just some guy - the protagonist of life head empty - too many thoughts awful company - ray of sunshine hated by all - loved by all trauma 3000 - untouched by history sadistic for fun - helps others for fun stupid as shit - scary-smart 1000 weapons - 1000 tools enemy of god - at peace with life break the rules - change the rules

gif 3 of 7. two shots of Peggy are blended together, one of them being of Captain Carter. the text says, "evokes" and the options are the following:

spontaneous gushing powerful violent urges raw, unbridled affection the horny meta-posting on main creative drive defensive feelings distraction delight symptoms of projection absent-minded doodles on tabletops the most godawful takes known to mankind

all options have a checkmark next to them.

gif 4 of 7. two close-up shots of Peggy are blended together. there's a chart at the center of the gif, titled "subclass". the subclasses are:

angst lady enemy of the state friend shaped girlboss soft and sweet brain cell haver just like you fr aspirational character chew toy

the angst lady, enemy of the state, girlboss, brain cell haver and aspirational character options are marked with a circle.

gif 5 of 7. two shots of Peggy are blended together. at the center of the gif, there are three stats (intense, complex, and fruity) with 10 points each. Peggy has all 30 points. while the intense and complex points are green, the fruity ones have the colors of the bisexual flag (blue, pink, and purple). at the bottom left corner, there's a big asterisk with the following text next to it: if you or a loved one is attached to a character that fills all of these boxes, you may be entitled to financial compensation.

gif 6 of 7. two close-up shots of an animated Peggy are blended together. the text says, "you want them to have...". the list is the following:

a better time less trauma more romance more friends catharsis revenger sympathy a better situation more healing more sex The Realization and a trademark symbol next to it.

all options have a checkmark next to them.

gif 7 of 7. two shots of Peggy are blended together, a close-up and her silhouette entering a room. "select all that apply", the text says. the list is the following:

tragic backstory? orphan? frequently violent? divorced? has enemies? sidekick owner? no friends? pets stray animals? chronic insomniac? murderer?

there's a checkmark next to "tragic backstory", "frequently violent", "has enemies", "sidekick owner", "pets stray animals", and "murderer". each checkmark has a color that corresponds to a small static image at the bottom of the gif. the tragic backstory one is an image of Peggy crying. the frequently violent one is an image of her holding a gun. has enemies: a picture of Dottie. sidekick owner: a picture of her and Jarvis. pets stray animals: a picture of Peggy holding a puppy. murderer: yet another picture of her holding a gun. end ID.