#a little borrower called button

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ how long does it take to fuck your brother's best friend? (four whole days)

synopsis. suguru comes home to visit from college at the same time you do—except he brings satoru along. this is going to be a long break

word count. 8.5k (i am tired of this tomfoolery)

contents. college! au, brother's best friend! satoru, fem! reader, minors do not interact, three-year age gap (you're both early twenties), slightly mean satoru (when you’re kids), slight enemies to lovers, jealous! satoru, mentions of reader having an ex-bf, male masturbation, satoru is taller + carries reader, cunnilingus, fingering, handjobs, unprotected sex, brief mentions of alcohol (satoru), creampie, pet names (baby + sweetheart), not proofread i could not be bothered i’m sorry

notes. this was not supposed to be this long bye i am embarrassingly down bad for the blue-eyed freak

everyone knows that where there is satoru, there is suguru—and likewise, where there is suguru, there is satoru.

they’re a bit of a packaged deal, really. satoru befriends your brother in what you think must be some twisted stroke of luck—there is no way suguru would lower his standards for some rich bastard who’s had life made for him since the day he was born. but apparently, he does, and you’re stuck with a white-haired nuisance in your house at least once a week. for years.

you’ve known satoru since he was a whiny, snot-faced, and spoiled little brat. back then, he used to call you toothless—you were six, it’s normal for children at the age of six to lose a few teeth. just because satoru is nine and has grown his teeth back doesn’t mean he escaped the toothless phase himself—but satoru is just a jerk like that, pushes your buttons, and calls out your insecurities to get a good laugh.

you don’t smile with your mouth open even once around him that summer, not until suguru assures you that regardless of how many teeth you have, you have a lovely smile.

when you’re twelve, puberty does its thing, and now you’re stuck with acne-prone skin—also a normal occurrence for people your age, but satoru makes sure to point out the giant pimple on your forehead every time he sees you. you make sure to let him know his haircut is as awful as his sense of style, and suguru tries his best not to choke himself with his charger as you both bicker.

satoru is gone that entire summer for a family cruise that you’re sure costs double your house—he comes back frighteningly taller than you remember him within the span of just a few weeks.

it’s been like that since you were kids. he comes over, finds a new thing to pick on through his smug grins and smooth chuckles, and you fume as you bite back with just as snarky rebuttals. he makes sure to never cross the line of going too far—it’s more for suguru’s sake, you’re fairly sure—but stays right on the dot of getting just under your skin.

he’s annoying. a jerk. a rich snob. a privileged dickhead. he’s rude and disrespectful, with no tact, let alone any semblance of respect. you don’t understand what could possibly make suguru want to hang around such a douchebag, but suguru cares about satoru—and satoru has always been there for your brother.

you don’t understand it, but you respect it. as long as he doesn’t wet your entire bathroom sink and mirror in the mornings after he stays over, you suppose you can coexist.

but you haven’t seen him in ages—not outside of suguru’s instagram stories and posts. it’s been a long few years since the two of them have left for college, and by the time you leave too, life has its funny way of working, and, well…you don’t bump into him anymore. it doesn’t occur to you that satoru is not the same guy you used to know until you come back home to visit after your second year of college.

“suguru,” you call, “i borrowed your hoodie. but you can have it back—”

you cut yourself off when you open the door to your brother’s room, and lo and behold, stands a very shirtless gojo satoru, the white-haired and blue-eyed asshole you’ve had to deal with since childhood. except he’s way taller than you remember him—just how much does this guy grow, exactly? his shoulders are broader and….and since when did he have abs? there’s a small tattoo just under his collarbone—when did he even get that? his hair is also longer, just enough to fall over his forehead and curtain those striking blue eyes of his.

he looks…well, handsome. very handsome, in fact. dangerously handsome that it catches you by surprise as you blink.

he’s still shirtless, holding his t-shirt in his hands as he grins.

“hey, toothless,” he greets, voice deeper than the last time you heard it—but it still sounds relatively the same. you think you’d always recognize satoru’s voice, whether you’d like to or not. and, of course, he just has to still use that ridiculous nickname after all these years. “long time no see.”

“i have all my teeth now—i have for a long time, y’know. and put a shirt on, you freak,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “where’s suguru?”

“what, you don’t enjoy the view?” he motions at his bare torso, like the shameless bastard he is, “most girls love this view—”

“and yet, you’re still single,” you cut him off, staring at him pointedly.

he grins impossibly wider, tugging his shirt over his body swiftly—you have to exercise all ounces of control not to gulp as you watch his biceps flex.

“keepin’ track of my love life?” he wiggles his brows, “i know older men can be appealing but have a little class. your poor brother would lose his shit if you went after his best friend—”

“satoru,” you sigh, pinching your nose, “do you age backward or something? how are you still this obnoxious after so long?”

“i practice in the mirror,” he winks, “it’s my charm.”

“that’s hardly charming,” you roll your eyes, “anyway, whenever suguru comes back, let him know i left his hoodie, yeah?”

“sure,” he chuckles.

and then you close the door as you leave—right before you stop, pause, and open it up again as you’re sticking your head back in when you make a shocking realization.

“wait, how long are you here for?” you ask, eyes wide.

he has the audacity to look smug as he taps his chin and pretends to think—“oh, y’know. just the rest of break. my old man took my mom on some trip, so i’m killing time here,” he shrugs.

great. lovely. wonderful. just what you needed.

you wish he’d drop dead—maybe suguru will finally be forced to go outside of his one-man circle and actually befriend some respectable people.

“you can’t just stay at your place?” you hiss, “it’s certainly big enough.”

“well, why be lonely in an empty home when we can have fun here?” he hums, “consider yourself lucky—you get to be housemates with me for a—”

“keep to yourself,” you warn, cutting him off again through narrowed eyes and a dangerous glare—satoru only looks more amused, raising his hands up in surrender.

with that, you turn again and almost shut the door when he calls for you—“hey, toothless,” he says lowly, making you pause before turning to him with a raised brow. he smiles—it’s so unlike that usual smirk of his…somehow this one is a bit gentler as he murmurs, “you look good. grew up well, y’know.”

you blink. you’re not ready for that…didn’t expect a compliment from gojo satoru himself—especially not after all this time of throwing mediocre insults your way.

you decide he must be messing with you, so you purse your lips as you click your teeth in irritation. “yeah, sure,” you say dryly.

you can hear his chuckles as you close the door again—this is going to be a long break.

—————

just as expected, the house is simply not big enough for you and satoru.

the first time you run into him happens to be first thing after waking up—you’re walking up to the door just as he twists the knob and opens it, walking out shirtless. again.

this time, however, he’s got beads of water rolling down his skin from his shower, right between his pecs, as a towel hangs around his shoulders. you can see his tattoo from up close now, a small infinity sign right under his collarbone that contrasts against his pale skin.

how tacky, you think—just as you’d expect, even his choice of tattoos is questionable.

his hair is wet—it’s sticking to his forehead instead of the multiple directions it usually scatters around in that messy way it always does. you’ve only felt satoru’s hair once—when you were fifteen, and you’d hit him in the back of the head as you walked past him at the breakfast table. he’d made a jab at your dark circles. tests were around the corner, and unlike satoru, your grades actually mattered. you didn’t expect his hair to be so soft, but it is, and you almost itch to twirl the strands around your fingers for a quick feel.

instead, you scowl and stomp off to your room as soon as your dishes are washed.

his hair is probably just as soft now—maybe even softer now that he actually probably cares to look after it. you’ve heard suguru grumble about using two-in-one shampoo too many times when he comes back from spending the night at satoru’s. for a second, your fingers twitch to reach up and brush through a few strands on his forehead—just to feel them because they look soft. nothing else.

the urge is quickly killed as soon as he opens his mouth, however.

“oh, hey there, roomie,” he grins, “you’re really doing all you can to catch me half naked, huh?”

“don’t flatter yourself,” you grumble.

“i’m just sayin’,” he chuckles, “that’s twice now. if you ask nicely, i might walk around like this just for you.”

it’s way too early for this.

by early, it’s actually late noon. now that finals aren’t killing your free time, you stay up until ungodly hours to catch up with your social life—and it doesn’t help that you can hear satoru and suguru stay up playing video games the next room over, either. suguru is probably still sleeping.

that’s a bit of a shocker, in fact—usually, it’s satoru that has to be dragged out of your brother’s room to have breakfast (or brunch, really) before the kitchen is cleared up. why satoru is up first is beyond you.

maybe it’s just a cruel way for the universe to enjoy watching more of your veins pop.

“does that apply to asking you to leave? because then i suppose i can ask rather politely.”

he grins, eyes sparkling with amusement as he shoots you that smile with those pearly whites that irritate you to no end. you’re not sure why, but something about his smile looks so much different nowadays—something about it just seems so….mature.

that’s a word you didn’t think you’d ever use to describe satoru.

“mm, not quite,” he hums, “you’re still stuck with me.”

“whatever,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “move, i want to shower before suguru wakes up.”

“you have time,” he steps to the side, letting you enter the bathroom, “he’s probably not waking up anytime soon—woah.”

satoru’s shirt is on the floor—why, you may ask? because he’s an annoying idiot who doesn’t have to clean up after himself when people have always been around to do it for him. he never has to care to aim and toss his clothes into the hamper because the maids will pick up after him anyway. old habits die hard, you suppose—you’ve listened to suguru complain about satoru’s messiness not improving even after being his roommate for the last few years. it’s never been your problem, but you don’t appreciate it now that you’re slipping over the fabric on the tiled floor, falling backwards with a squeal.

but satoru’s quick—he catches you with those strong arms of his and wraps them tightly around you, keeping you securely in place as he steadies you against his chest.

his bare chest, in fact.

you can feel the slight dampness seeping into your shirt, and you can feel his hot breath on your neck as he exhales in relief once he makes sure you’re safe. you almost shiver—almost, but you manage to scrape together enough self-control to stay painfully still in his grasp.

“you okay?” he murmurs gently, voice a low whisper against your skin. there’s no bite to his words. no amusement or teasing or even smugness. it’s genuine, the way he checks on you.

this is…new. very, very new.

“yeah,” you breathe, letting out a sharp breath. and then—“maybe keep your clothes in the fucking hamper next time, though.”

“sorry,” the smile in his voice is almost audible—you can’t see it from where you are, but you can hear it in his voice. you roll your eyes, and satoru makes no move to loosen his arms around you. for some reason, you don’t move.

you’re not sure why, but you just don’t.

“you’re still just as messy, huh?” you roll your eyes—he laughs, and it’s a smooth, boyish chuckle that almost makes you wonder for a moment if this is why girls seem to love satoru so much despite his god-awful personality.

it’s a pretty beautiful sound—you hate that you have to admit that to yourself.

“yeah,” he admits, “it drives suguru nuts.”

“yeah, i can’t imagine why,” you snort. it’s like that for a moment—satoru’s muscled arms around you and hard chest pressed against your back. finally, you clear your throat. “you can let go now, you know.”

“right,” he mumbles, slowly pulling away—and when you turn to face him….is that disappointment? on his face? you don’t get a chance to be sure because then he’s bending down to pick up his shirt before he’s standing—he’s already wiped the expression from his features completely by then. “sorry about that, toothless. i’ll keep my shirts off the floor next time.”

“that would be so kind of you,” you smile sarcastically.

and then you shut the door in his face and exhale as you lean against the wall.

this is going to be a longer break than you thought.

—————

the next time you run into him, it’s late at night. everyone is asleep—even your brother and his headache of a best friend, if the silence tells you anything. you can’t sleep, though, so you make your way to the kitchen to hunt for snacks. you’re skimming through the pantry before your eyes land on a surprise—a box of strawberry pocky sits nice and enticingly, right there for you to open and devour.

you grin, reaching over when—

“those are mine,” satoru calls, stepping into the kitchen, “brought them over myself. you should ask before touching people’s things.”

“you literally ate my leftovers the other night,” you say incredulously.

“those were yours? i thought they were suguru’s.” he raises a brow in surprise, making you click your teeth in irritation.

“the principle of asking still applies,” you purse your lips. and then defiantly, you open the box and grab a pack right before his eyes.

he scowls—but you know he doesn’t actually mind because he waits for you to finish grabbing yours before taking the box and grabbing his own pack and a coke from the fridge. you both take a seat at the kitchen table, across from each other, as you open the packaging and silently eat your newfound snack.

it’s satoru who breaks the silence first.

“do you still throw away the ends of these?”

you huff indignantly, not meeting his eyes as you take a bite off the strawberry-covered end, stopping at just where the cookie portion is uncoated. “yes. i’m eating these for the coating—not the bland biscuit part.”

“what’re you, five?” he snickers, earning a glare from you. defiantly, you pop the end of the pocky stick into your mouth just to prove a point—and then the look of distaste makes him cackle louder. 

“shut up,” you hiss, “you talk too much.”

“the ladies love it when i do,” he bats his lashes—you stare at him blankly, unimpressed.

“yeah, as if.”

“hey, my ex-girlfriend totally did,” he defends.

ex-girlfriend? that’s a bit of a shocker—you didn’t know satoru dated anyone in the last few years, you haven’t seen or heard anything of it through suguru’s end. in all realness, you didn’t even think satoru was the boyfriend type…but then again, he’s not really the anything type. he just kind of exists to take up space and be the bane of your existence. 

“i hope the poor girl is recovering well after dating you,” you shake your head, feigning a concerned look on your face that makes him roll his eyes—they’re still disturbingly bright even in the dark kitchen, dimly lit by the slightest bit of moonlight pouring in through the small window.

“i dated her freshman and sophomore year,” he says casually. you also didn’t expect that—that it lasted that long. something about satoru doesn’t strike you as the long-term relationship kind of guy. something about him doesn’t seem like the relationship kind of guy at all. not because he’s the type to mess around casually, but because he seems the type to seem disinterested all around—he’s snobby like that. “she was…alright, i guess.”

yeah. very snobby.

“you are such a sick bastard,” you spit.

he snorts, taking a bite of his pocky as he shakes his head in amusement. you’re as feisty as ever—it’s always fun riling you up, even if unintentionally.

“hey, it’s not like she was bad. she was just…well, she wasn’t interested in me like that either,” he shrugs, “i think it was just the sex. it was good, can’t lie there.”

“you’re so gross,” you roll your eyes, “have some decorum.”

“what, you’re still sixteen?” he raises a brow, lips curling into a smirk as he reaches for another pocky, “can’t say the word s-e-x?”

“i don’t broadcast my sexual activities out in the open,” you shrug.

satoru chuckles, taking a bite that more or less finishes the entire stick in one go before he presses a finger to his lips, “shh. don’t say that too loud—suguru will come chase you from his room if he hears.”

“suguru,” you groan, “he’s such a pain to have around sometimes. y’know i dated this one guy last year. i think suguru might’ve paid him to dump me.”

“i know. he definitely thought about it,” satoru hums, “he used to go off about it all the time. he was right, though—that guy was a total prick.”

something about you is mildly shocked that satoru knows about your private life—sure, it’s not outrageous or even the slightest bit unlikely that suguru mentions you. satoru and suguru are best friends, and you happen to be suguru’s sister—of course, suguru is bound to mention you here and there. it’s just the fact that satoru even pays attention to anything to do with you that surprises you—although you suppose it would be a good way for him to find his next source to push your buttons.

“i’m not surprised you think he’s a prick,” you nod, “it takes one to know one, after all.”

“oh yeah?” he snorts, waving you off, “i do, in fact remember anniversaries, y’know.”

“okay,” you sigh, defeated—your ex-boyfriend is admittedly not at the top of the list of your brightest choices. not even up halfway on the list. in fact, he’s so low on the list of good choices you’ve made, that willingly choosing to interact with satoru feels like an exceptional decision in comparison. and that’s saying something. “he was pretty bad. but he was really hot. when a guy looks like that, his values are the least of my worries.”

it’s a joke—you’re sure he knows that. but satoru takes a long sip from his coke, silent for a moment. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so serious, especially so suddenly.

“he can’t be that hot,” he mutters.

“oh he was really hot. probably the hottest guy i’ve ever talked to—” satoru bites his pocky a bit aggressively at that, “and he was so tall. maybe taller than you—how tall are you again? anyway, he was pretty enough to overlook his shortcomings.”

“he’s probably not taller than me,” he grumbles, frowning. you snort—men and their fragile little egos, you think in amusement.

“he was,” you tease, “he was so tall, i’d let him do whatever he wanted.”

“that’s a terrible way to look at it,” he scrunches his brows, “you shouldn’t let some guy walk all over you because he’s tall and his face is a bit easy on the eyes—”

“i know you’re not talking—”

“i’m serious,” he cuts you off. something about him reminds you of suguru for a moment—like he cares who you’re with because he has a reason to. as if you mean something to him, as if knowing someone who doesn’t deserve you has you in their palms is upsetting.

but then you shake the thought out of your head—satoru doesn’t care. he’s never had a reason to, and you don’t exactly plan to give him one, either.

“okay, dad,” you roll your eyes, “i learned my lesson. i have standards now.”

“good,” he nods—and then, as if to keep himself in character, he adds, “because i don’t want to help suguru kill someone, and it’s over something lame like forgetting his little sister’s anniversary. i’d like to go to jail for something more badass.”

“you and badass don’t belong in the same sentence,” you raise a brow. “let’s be realistic.”

“oh yeah? that’s rich coming from—”

“guys, it is five in the morning,” suguru grumbles, throwing a water bottle at satoru’s head. you glance at the kitchen entrance, eyeing a half-asleep and very irritable suguru as he crosses his arms, “can’t you idiots fight over who’s more of a loser at reasonable hours? some of us like to sleep.”

“want one?” you offer your pack of pocky, holding it out to him.

suguru blinks, contemplating for a second before sighing and trudging over.

“yeah,” he mutters, flicking your forehead. “gimme that.”

you watch woefully as suguru takes the entirety of your pack, swiftly sitting next to satoru and leaving you empty-handed. satoru snickers obnoxiously at the deflated look on your face—and then he holds out his pack to you.

you look between him and the pack for a moment before giving him a genuine smile. it’s a rare sight—he drinks it in as you carefully take one and bicker over something with suguru.

you’re pretty when you smile, he thinks—pretty enough that if you had horrible values (which you don’t), he might feel inclined to understand your (awful) reasoning for a moment.

and then he blinks and shakes the thoughts out of his head—it’s going to be a long break.

—————

satoru meets you when you’re six. 

he’s nine at the time, and he feels on top of the world knowing he’s three whole years older than you—in hindsight, three years is not a very large gap, but to nine-year-old him, it feels like centuries. he’s remembered you as the fun little drama queen that’s too easy to poke fun at for years—that’s all you’ve always been: suguru’s younger sister who puffs her cheeks out and scowls way too often to be normal, the girl that’s way too easy to tease than should be standard. 

somehow, he wasn’t expecting for you to come back so grown…and so hot. suddenly, it really hits him that you’re not a kid—have not really been for a long time now. he’s always treated you like you’re way younger than he is, way too little to be in his presence and be worthy of it—but you’ve really become a fine young woman.

a magnetizing one, in fact.

it’s now his third night at your house—your parents are as lovely and welcoming as ever, and suguru is always a good time to be around. but somehow, satoru is not satisfied. not anywhere near sated by the few, minimal moments of contact with you. 

when did you get so pretty? although, as much as satoru has always liked to poke fun at you, you’ve never been ugly. not even a little—but you’ve grown into your features better, outgrown the awkward teenage era of your life, and now present yourself with a newfound confidence that just looks…so good. satoru doesn’t see his best friend's kid sister anymore—no, there’s something so alluring about you now.

the nail on the coffin that solidifies he’s officially screwed is when you mention your ex-boyfriend—why would your dating life make him this irrationally angry? why is the thought of someone being on the receiving end of your praise (and shameless heart-eyes) so aggravating for him? 

he doesn’t know—but what he does know is that the raging boner has been killing him all morning ever since he woke up from…well, less than proper dreams about you.

so now he’s here, forehead pressed against your shower wall as the hot water hits his back, swollen cock in his fist as he thumbs at the tip, teasing the slit just the way he likes. he thinks about you—how he’d show you what makes him feel good, how you’d probably learn fast and take care of him just the way he needs. 

your hand would look so much daintier compared to his—smaller, but he’s sure it would still feel infinitely better. 

he bites his lip, fighting back a moan as he strokes himself slowly, pre cum smeared along the length of his hard, aching cock—red and angry at the tip, leaking with more pre cum no matter how many times his thumb collects every drop. 

“f-fuck—” he breathes, and his voice lets out a shaky, breathy little call of your name—he’s screwed if anyone hears it. he’s sure you and suguru will both band together to kill him, but thankfully, the words are lost in the sound of the shower running. “fuck baby,” he says hoarsely, voice cracking ever so slightly as he whines. 

it’s soft and quiet, the noises he makes—careful and deliberately hushed to make sure no one hears the improper way he’s thinking of you right now. but fuck, your tits are so pretty when you walk out of your room in a t-shirt in the mornings—he can just tell you’re not wearing a bra. he can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop trying to picture what they’d look like uncovered and bouncing.

“jus’ like that, baby,” he pants, whimpering softly as he squeezes around his tip, teasing himself with that slow, painful pace of his. 

satoru is sure that if it were you, that if the hand stroking his cock right now was yours, you would never let him cum so easily—you’d drag it out just like this, pump him slowly and twist your hand around him in a pace that’s painfully not enough before ever thinking about letting him come undone. 

it’s just the way that you are—never ready to back down from a challenge, unwilling to go down without a fight. but he loves it, he thinks—lives for the way you keep him on his toes and work for the satisfaction. 

“more,” he gasps, “n-need more—gimme more, sweetheart.”

he imagines it—the way you’d kiss his jaw, maybe even the corner of his mouth, as you hum. say please, toru, you’d probably say—and fuck, he’d kill to hear you say toru. 

“please,” he rasps, “please, baby. d-don’t tease.”

he can practically hear your light giggles, the sweet, okay, baby. no more teasing, that you might whisper. he’d also kill to hear you call him baby—he’s almost nauseous at the idea that some other guy must’ve heard the pet name from your lips before him. and then he lets himself pump his erection faster, squeezing tighter as his thighs quiver while he stands in the shower. 

fuck—you feel so good. you’re not even here, but he’s sure you do, and he’s desperate to envision it. it practically hurts—the way he’s so hard and swollen and ready to release. just for you, he wants to tell you, he’s going to cum all for you. 

“baby,” he whimpers, “‘m so, so close—fuck ‘m gonna cum. ‘s for you—gonna cum for you—ngh, sh-shit.”

and then there’s cum on the tile walls, on his hands, on his abs as they flex with every labored breath. satoru cums—hard. his eyes are squeezed shut, lips parted with a silent cry as he pants and strokes himself through his high. you’d kiss him, he likes to think, on his jaw and cheeks and maybe the tip of his nose as you sit on his lap and work him through his orgasm. you’d watch him closely, take in the way he comes undone for you, maybe even call him your pretty boy as he paints your hand white with his seed.

would you praise him? murmur softly into his ear and seal the gentle words with a kiss to his skin? would you stroke his hair from his face as you admire his blissful, fucked out little expression? maybe he’d ask you then—maybe he’d ask you to admit he’s way more handsome than that douchebag you dated as your hand holds his softening cock, sticky with his release.

god, what he wouldn’t do to see your hands coated with his cum—did you do this for your ex? did he look as hot as you claim he was when he came for you? the thought makes him sour—he grits his teeth and clenches his jaw at the idea, panting and catching his breath as he stares down at the mess he’s made.

he should feel bad—this is wrong. so, so wrong—suguru would kill him if he was aware satoru was lusting over his little sister. but it felt so fucking good—he’s never cum as hard as when he’s pictured cumming for you. 

it can’t be that wrong, if that’s the case—can it?

——

“suguru,” your voice is shrill, deadly—like you’re out for blood. “next time you jack off in the shower, maybe clean the fucking wall? are you joking?”

“wha—i definitely cleaned that,” suguru defends. 

oh, fuck, satoru thinks—he forgot to clean that. so he makes himself very scarce and stays within the confinements of suguru’s bedroom—his messy habits are starting to really catch up to him. if his defense, he really would clean that up…it’s just that he was a bit distracted. 

“so you admit you jack off in our shower? our shower?” you sound inconsolable, downright devastated, and borderline hysterical. having siblings seems like a lot of trouble, he thinks—but then again, sometimes satoru is jealous of your bond with suguru. it’d be nice to have someone in his family he can actually depend on. “keep that shit for your bedroom, you jackass!”

“well, how am i supposed to do that when satoru is there? you tell me.”

“i don’t know! figure it the fuck out—you guys probably jack off together anyway.”

“what?” suguru sounds appalled, “we do not—that’s outrageous.”

“whatever,” you say—you sound almost murderous as you warn, “next time you better clean up your fucking mess, you asshole.”

satoru can’t help but smile a little—your pointer finger is definitely held up as you scold suguru—you’re so cute when you’re mad, he thinks. he almost wants to step out and catch a glimpse, but he decides against it for now.

silently, satoru thanks his best friend for taking one for the team—even if it was unknowingly.

—————

it’s night four. 

satoru has surprisingly kept to himself—he even promptly looked away after meeting your eyes in the kitchen yesterday morning as you walked in for breakfast. that’s…new. a lot about satoru is new. 

he’s taller and more muscular now—at one point, suguru used to tower over his scrawny little form. now he’s seemed to grow into his body, seemed to learn how to style himself better, and actually do his hair a bit. it’s still messy now that he’s just lazing around in your home—but it’s oddly handsome. 

scarily handsome, in fact. 

you don’t enjoy the idea of thinking about the jerk of your childhood like that—but ever since you felt the hard press of his chest against your back, sometimes you wonder what it’s like to know satoru outside of just your older brother’s obnoxious friend. 

maybe, somewhere along the line, had you put your pride aside and actually tried to get to know him, maybe you both could at least be friendly. but then again, there’s never been any real animosity between you two—you can share a lighthearted talk from time to time, like that night in the kitchen. 

you decide not to dwell on it too much, decide that he’s not really worth your thoughts when he’s just a guy who’s always been a bit too spoiled to learn how to be humble. instead, you go down to the kitchen to grab another pack of strawberry pocky—satoru will just have to deal with it. if he doesn’t want his snacks eaten, he shouldn’t keep them in the pantry where anyone could stumble across them.

you walk into the kitchen until—oh. it’s satoru. again.

“oh, hey,” he grins cheekily, taking a sip of his coke—he needs to break the habit of having so much sugar this late at night…but then again, why would it matter to you? “stalkin’ me?”

“for an unwelcomed guest, you sure do talk a lot,” you roll your eyes, making his lips curl into a smug little smirk. 

“i don’t know—your parents seem to love having me over. what if i become their newest son?”

“i doubt my parents are looking to adopt you,” you raise a brow, slightly amused. 

he hums, sipping his coke before blinking at you through those long, perfect lashes of his. “well, there are other ways to blend into a family. marriage, for example, is a great way.”

“you and my brother might as well marry each other,” you snort, “no one else will do it.”

“who said anything about suguru?” he winks, chuckling when your face twists into an exaggerated look of horror—always as dramatic as ever, you are. he can’t help but find an endearing side to it now.

satoru stands, walks over to where you are and stands in front of you as you scoff, shaking your head as you huff out a disbelieving chuckle. 

“that’s pushing it,” you muse, “marrying you would be the last open option i’d have left—and even then i doubt i’d ever take it.”

“yeah?” he raises a brow, leaning in so close, you can practically feel his breath fan over you. he smells like expensive cologne and your shampoo—why is he using yours instead of suguru’s? before you can even ask him what he’s doing, he throws away the empty can of coke in the trash can behind you, eyes bright with amusement as your breath hitches.

it’s like he knows—the fucking asshole.

“yeah,” you breathe, “you don’t deserve me,” you try to say matter-of-factly. it comes off a bit more breathless than you intended—the air feels suffocating. maybe because satoru is so close, maybe because his breath is on your face, maybe because all you can smell and feel and hear is him. 

you can’t find it in yourself to pull away—why aren’t you pulling away? it’s just like that day he caught you, when his arms wrapped around you and all you felt like doing was lean into his chest. what about satoru and you has shifted so quickly to make you want to do that? what makes him so easy to fall into when all you’ve always known was to shove at him?

he hums, leaning in closer and closer until his forehead touches yours. “you know who didn’t deserve you?” he asks, “that shitty ex of yours.”

you look up at him with wide eyes, speechless as his hands find purchase of your hips, grabbing them and pulling you closer—and against better judgment, your hands lay themselves across his chest. it’s as firm as you remember it. 

“how would you know—”

“heard suguru rant about it all the time,” he murmurs, “how he forgot your dates. got you a shitty birthday present. didn’t show up to your anniversary. made you hang out with his friends and didn’t even meet half of yours. you’re tellin’ me he deserves you more than me?”

“he was hot—”

“yeah? and i’m not?”

he’s cocky—you hate that about him. always did. but he’s so close, so intoxicating, so irresistible, and fuck, he is hot—so incredibly hot, you’ve been losing sleep over it the last four nights no matter how hard you try to deny it. 

“satoru, what are you—”

“y’know, i’ve been helping suguru pick your birthday presents since you were twelve. i’d pick you the best gifts,” his nose is brushing against yours now, lips just millimeters away from his as he speaks—“and i never forget an important date. i’m very punctual too, believe it or not. i’d meet your little friends—show ‘em what a catch i am when you introduce me.”

“and what am i supposed to do with this information?” you ask defiantly.

it’s a last-ditch effort—you both know this. you know exactly what he wants you to do with this information. 

“i don’t know, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “what do you think?”

and then you’re kissing him—because fuck, satoru is right there, and how could you not? his chest is under your palms, his lips are right against yours, and you can feel his thumb rub circles into your hips. 

so you kiss him—loop your arms around his neck and tug him closer and press your lips to his. he groans, responds almost instantly as his mouth molds against yours, kissing you deeper as his hand moves to cup your cheek.

your lips are softer than he thought, and his hair is silky against your fingers. you tug at the strands, grab a handful, and feel them against your fingers like you’ve wanted to for so long. and when he nips at your bottom lip, who are you to deny him? your lips part, letting his tongue slide in and taste you with a breathy sigh that makes your knees wobble. 

“s-satoru,” you stutter, whispering between kisses, “suguru might come in like last time—”

“god,” he groans, head burying into your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against the skin, “don’t fucking talk about your brother right now. please.”

“my room,” you say urgently—it’s all he needs to hear before his hands are on your ass, grabbing you as you wrap your legs around his hips. it’s urgent, the way his mouth is back on yours—he doesn’t pull away even once the entire walk to your room, not even when he lets your back fall onto the mattress as he hovers over you, pressing kisses along your collarbone. 

no bra, he notes happily, his hand sneaking under your shirt to toy with your pert nipples. 

“god, you’ve been driving me fuckin’ crazy,” he mumbles, tugging the hem of your shirt over your arms and tossing it over his shoulder. he stares, takes in the sight of the same tits he’s been fantasizing over for the last few days in awe. “you know that? been thinkin’ about these for days,” he says lowly, cupping your tit and massaging as he presses a kiss to your jaw. 

“you’re shameless,” you mutter, snorting before you cut yourself off with a gasp as he squeezes your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers and pulling a soft whine from you.

“shhh,” he chuckles, tilting his head toward the wall next to you, “don’t want suguru to hear, do you? that wouldn’t be nice, would it?”

“it’ll be worse for you than me,” you grin, tugging at the hem of his own shirt, indicating you want it off. he grins widely, wiggling his brows and making you purse your lips.

“wanna see me shirtless again, huh? third times the charm, as they say,” he winks. you would retort with something as witty, but then your eyes fall on that tattoo again—right under his collarbone, making your hand reach out to trace it with your thumb. 

“what compelled you to get this corny little tattoo of yours,” you grin, giggling as you trace over the small infinity sign. 

for the first time, you think you witness satoru shy, blushing as he rubs the back of his neck and chuckles awkwardly. “that…that was an accident. when i got drunk for the first time.”

“oh,” you snort, “you’re so weak, satoru—”

“do me a favor, sweetheart,” he hums, cutting you off, “as much as i love when you say my name, say toru for me, yeah? i wanna hear it.”

you roll your eyes, huffing as your hand finds the back of his head and pulls him into another kiss, moaning into his mouth as he grinds the throbbing erection in his sweats over your heated core. 

“toru,” you say breathlessly, “more.”

that’s all he needs to hear—satoru doesn’t waste a second before he’s crawling between your legs, sliding your cute little pajama pants down your legs before meeting your dripping pussy.

it’s wet—so wet, he almost wants to chuckle and tease you a bit. just for old-time's sake. but the ache that shoots down to his cock reminds him that he’s in no position to tease you when he’s not faring any better himself. so he spreads your legs, kisses lightly at your clit in a feather-like touch that has you whimpering and clutching the sheets in anticipation.

“how pretty,” he mumbles, “been hiding this pretty little thing all this time. what a perfect pussy.”

“satoru,” you gasp in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you need him most—equal parts because you really need his mouth on your cunt and equal parts because you really need him to shut up. 

but he chuckles, takes his time to spread your folds open with his thumbs, and watches in wonder as you flutter around nothing, arousal dripping and leaving a mess. it’s perfect—you’re perfect, and he wants to take his time with you. 

“god, you’re soaked,” he groans, chuckling as he murmurs, “that’s fuckin’ cute.”

before you can even whine at the way his words are shameless, his mouth is back to kissing your clit, lips wrapping around it as he sucks and rolls his tongue along the sensitive bud. his fingers sink deep into you, pushing past your folds and slowly bullying into you until the tips of his fingers curl and brush against a spot that makes you squeal. 

you gasp a breathy, “fuck, toru—” before he hums around your clit, vibrations making you whimper as he thrusts his fingers back in to hit that spot again. it’s sensitive, the way he makes you feel—your nerves are on fire, and your head is light, and fuck, it feels so good you can’t help but sob brokenly and squeeze your thighs around his head. he moans against your cunt, pulling his fingers out before letting his tongue lick a stripe along your slit, tasting you with a sharp inhale. 

“f-feels good,” you whimper, biting your lip as your eyes crinkle at the corners from squeezing shut.

“yeah?” he hums, kissing your inner thigh, leaving a wet little sheen of his spit and your arousal on the skin, “that’s a good girl—just keep telling me how good i make you feel, kay?”

he could stay buried nose-deep into your pussy for as long as you let him—tongue alternating between fucking into you and rolling over your swollen clit, hearing the broken little gasps and whines of his name as you repeat toru over and over again like a prayer. his hand grips at your thigh, sinking his fingertips into the plush skin and rubbing soothingly with his thumb as you rut your hips and grind against his face. 

satoru has half a mind to watch it again—to lick and suck at your core again and again just so he could burn into his mind what you look like when you cum. it’s divine—like he’s halfway to stepping into heaven and has to pause just to admire the sight before him. 

your hips leave the mattress as your back arches, and your fingers tug relentlessly at his roots as your walls quiver, letting satoru taste every drop of your release as you press a palm to your hand and try to keep yourself from squealing at the pleasure.

suguru is right next door. you can’t wake him—can’t let him know this is what you and his best friend get up to in the late hours of the night. 

it’s not until satoru pulls away, catching his breath as he wipes the wet trail on his chin does he realize how hard he is—how badly he’s aching as his cock strains against his sweats. he hisses as he frees himself; ridding his sweats and boxers and wrapping a large hand around the tip of his erection and smearing the leaking pre cum along his length. 

you watch in awe, reaching over and replacing his hand with yours. satoru was right—your hand is infinitely smaller than his, and yet, it feels a great deal better. so much better, in fact, that his arms shake as he hovers over you, burying his head into your neck and groaning as you slowly stroke him, squeezing at the tip and rolling your thumb through the slit.

he didn’t even have to show you what he wanted, what makes him feel good, what makes his mind fog with pleasure and burn through every nerve. no, you figure it all out on your own, pulling strangled moans and hushed gasps from him that make your clit ache once more. 

“fuck, baby,” he pants, “can’t last long like this—c’mon, g-gotta feel you.” gently, he pries your hand from his thick, pulsing cock, laying it against your stomach as he peers down in fascination. “i’ll be right here,” he hums, drawing a line on your skin right where his tip ends, “see that? that’s where you’ll feel me, sweetheart.”

“then let me feel you,” you murmur, cupping his cheeks and brushing a thumb over the skin, “fuck me, toru—wan’ it so bad.”

so he does—drags his tip along your folds and collects the slick pooling at your entrance before pushing his tip past your folds, splitting you in half as he slowly buries himself to the hilt. his jaw is clenched, breath labored as he waits for you to adjust, lets you kiss his cheeks and nose as you murmur how handsome he is, how perfect he feels, how good is to you. 

“that asshole ever make you cum?” he asks lowly, “he ever eat your pussy like that? make you cum hard enough you had to cover your mouth so you’re not screaming his name?”

“no,” you breathe, quivering as his thumb rolls over your clit in slow circles, still painfully still as he stares down at you, “n-no, never. just you—only you—”

“good,” he grins, “that’s what i like to hear. and when i make you cum on my cock, make sure to tell me he’s never done that either, yeah?”

“you’re full of it,” you scoff, “always have been.”

“and you’re full of me,” he says cheekily, chuckling as you glare half-heartedly. “can i move, baby? please? need more, ‘s not enough. n-need more—”

“yeah,” you whimper, pulling him closer, chests brushing against each other as your lips meet in a sloppy kiss, “yeah—need more too, toru.”

satoru, in all his years of knowing you, has never seen the side of you that could be this gentle. the side that glides your hands over his back, feeling every flex and every pull of his muscles, gently caressing the skin like it’s holy, like it’s not worthy of marks—instead to be worshipped and revered with thoughtful touches. your lips sear into every part of him they can find—his lips, his forehead, his nose, his hair as his face digs into your neck. even your voice is a gentle whisper of his name, so soft and careful, it’s like saying it wrong could break him. 

your hips buck up in tandem with his, meeting his rhythm as he slams into you, his balls slapping against your skin as he buries his cock into you as deep as it’ll go with every harsh thrust. you can feel his tip kissing against that sweet spot in the back of your walls, your abused cunt sucking him in and hugging around him as he groans. 

the friction feels sickening, like he’ll pass out any second, like he’s floating between the precipice of pleasure and the edge of consciousness. 

you do that to him—he doesn’t know how or when or why, but you make him feel like he doesn’t have a grip on his own senses. he doesn’t mind it so much, he thinks—doesn’t hate the idea of letting himself fall into your palm and wrap around him. it feels nicer that way, like it’s where he belongs.

“fuck, ‘s so tight,” he rasps, whining into your neck as your hand cups the back of his head, holding him in place. his hips are rutting into you sloppily now, barely maintaining the rhythm from before as he nears his high—but that doesn't stop him from angling into you perfectly, slamming into your sensitive spot every time without fail. “c-cum—’m gonna cum. cum with me, sweetheart.”

“‘m so close, toru,” you sob—and then, just as his thumb finds your clit again, rubbing harsh, desperate little circles to get you over the edge, you cum again—harder than the last time, spasming around his cock and pulling him in as you squeeze around him. “t-toru,” you gasp brokenly, “fuck, ‘s good—so good.”

“baby,” he moans lowly, “fuck, you’re so perfect. prettiest thing ever—prettiest pussy ever. i, sh-shit—” your orgasm quickly has him falling into his own, hot, thick ropes of cum spilling into you with every twitch of his cock, sweet little noises pulled from his throat that he sings into your neck, fucking his load into you. 

it’s messy, the way cum spills out of you and coats his cock—but it’s perfect and feels so, so right. you can’t help but think how perfectly satoru fits against you as his body slumps on top of yours, panting and spent as he cages you in his arms.

your hand doesn’t leave his hair—now that you know how it feels, you don’t think you can stop threading your fingers through it, ever. 

“wow, toothless,” he chuckles after a bit, “you’re seriously obsessed with me, huh? i mean, how long have you been nursing this crush on me, hmm? thinking about your brother’s best friend, you naughty little thing—”

“satoru, would you shut that mouth for once,” you hiss, rolling your eyes—still, there’s an affectionate grin on your lips this time as he chuckles into your skin. 

“oh baby, i’m afraid this mouth never shuts, so you should get used—”

suddenly, you both freeze as you hear suguru’s voice through the door. “you two better not be fucking doing what i think you’re doing,” he seethes, making your jaw drop and satoru’s eyes widen.

fuck—that was never supposed to happen. suguru was never supposed to hear, let alone know.

“hey,” satoru starts, “if suguru kicks me out of our place, i can come be your new permanent housemate, right?”

do not comment about a part 2

but yeah he can come live with me any time and as long as he pays by sucking my tiddies i shall provide all food and utilities and everything

[diaryofaprettyprincess]

just a thought before bedtime...

you (innocent!inexperienced!reader) giving stepbro!rafe a hand job for the first time..

you were hesitant to touch him at first.

"c'mon, puppy," he whispers, his khakis pulled down a bit to reveal his hard cock against his lower tummy. "it won't bite if you touch it..promise."

when you finally do, he sighs with a soft, "yeahhh, see?"

you giggle when it twitches in your hand, sighing when you feel his hand part between your thighs, and down to your puffy, wet slit.

he chuckles when he feels your slick gummy walls all wet n sticky. "your pussy's wet." he says as though that isn't obvious.

you blush, whimpering and whining as you spit on his length as he pinches your engorged clit.

you whine, pouting.

"take these off.." he says, talking about your pink panties. "wanna see your cute little cunt. bet it's all swollen from you rubbing your fuckin' pussy raw on any thing of mine you can find." he laughs cruely and you begin to cry out of embarrassment but also pure want. you peel your panties off as you whine.

"no!" you protest his accusation as he massages your button, and you feel his cock jump and drool more sticky seed as you hiccup.

rafe rolls his eyes, mocking your pout. "no? really? you'd hump my fuckin' leg if i let you. yesterday i walked in on you rubbing yourself ta death on that sweatshirt of mine i letchu borrow..fuckin' slut, huh?"

you shake your head as you massage his cock, twisting your wrist as you drool a line of spit onto the tip of it. he actually whimpers at the sight.

"spread your legs, baby, needa see your little hole, a'ight?"

you listen once more, taking your hand off his cock and spreading your legs.

rafe spreads your pussy lips wider, examining you as you whine n blush.

"hm, mhm." he hums, blowing gently on your cunt as his cock leaks. "looks all red n irritated, baby. my poor, sweet angel. just want her stepbrother's cock to plug 'er up n call it a day, yeah?" he's so sweet and condescending but you can't hear it with your mushy brain.

you nod, whimpering when he lays a delicate kiss on your fat button. "y-yeah, daddy.. hurts bad!"

he pouts, mocking your expression. "yeah, i bet," his digits are cold as he runs his fingers along your cunt. "don't worry, sweet girl; daddy's gonna fill u with all his jizz today, mk?"

[becomingmina]

thanks for the clarification ♡

so here is the thought I had

hyunjin and reader being each other's crush but absolutely idiotic about it so they don't know the other's feelings

they have common friends that are sick of the tension between the two. one decides to tell hyunjin, the other suggests the reader to do something to make hyunjin jealous so she can find out if he likes her. (boring I know)

one time when everyone's around, she flirts with jisung or something idk and she gets too touchy so hyunjin is annoyed af. pulls her away to somewhere private and voila, they've confessed in the best way possible 😌🌸

CRUSH. anon request w/ HYUNJIN.

18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

pairing: hyunjin x female reader genre + warnings: friends to lovers, smut mdni!, oral (both f & m receiving), hyunjin calls reader kitten, semi-public wc: 5.4k mina's note: Anon also wanted to throw ‘kitten’ in it (my fav pet name 👀) Also I really enjoyed writing this & love how much details you put on the request!! My box is open for feedback 💓

other works here ; any comments and thoughts you can drop them here ; ty for reading.

You don’t know how you got in this situation but here you are; staring at your friend who is currently playing basketball, topless. Well, you’re more like drooling over him.

He just looked so good, so hot. His tall, lean, milky body just running around on the court covered in a thin layer of sweat. Normally you hate the thought of sweat, but it works for him. It works well for Hwang Hyunjin, actually. He even looks like he smells nice too. You watch as he laughs at the other players, hogging the ball like the main character in some high school drama. Your eyes waver from his pretty smile to his muscular arms to his piercing, which is sitting so perfectly under his eyebrow, then to his burgundy hair.

You pay attention the beads of sweat that trickles from his hair to his chest, dripping down his body. You gulped when you see them land on the area just underneath his belly button. You completely loss your sanity as your eyes covered that area. His treasure trail? Happy trail? Whatever people called it. Why was it so sexy on Hyunjin?

You quickly look away before anyone catches you; you shouldn’t be looking at him like that. Hyunjin is your friend.

When you meet him two years ago in your first year of college, he was just some guy in class you become friends with. He is good looking, but you didn’t find him attractive. There was no chemistry, no tension, no feelings. You don’t know how it started but you find yourself thinking about him every other hour of the day now. You would freeze when someone else mentions his name, blush when he was in close proximity of you and even stutter when he speaks to you.

“Hey.. Hey Y/N,” a voice snapping you out of your thoughts, followed by a nudge on your shoulder.

“Hm?” You answered, unaware of who was even calling out to you. You turn your head and there he was, your crush Hwang Hyunjin crouching down next to you, smiling at your blank reaction. You’re used to him towering over you since he was way taller than you but to have him crouched down like this looking at you makes you feel a bit.. timid.

“I’m going to borrow this,” he says dangling your fresh hand towel in-front of you. Oh yeah, the hand towel you carry around in your bag just in case your physical education professor makes you participate in class. The one you won’t let anyone use or even touch.

When they say having a crush makes you do crazy stuff, they do mean it. You were quick to lean him it.

“Huh.. uhh yeah, sure,” you answered, eyes travelling from your towel to his face again.

When you realised you’ve been staring at him longer than you should have, you cough and drop eye contact, making Hyunjin gulped a little bit too loud. “I don’t need it anyways you can keep—”

“—I’ll return it,” he says with a smile. “I’ll wash it first of-course.” You nod your head quietly as you gather up your belongings, getting ready to go to your next class.

“Come on Hyunjin, we are going to be late for class!” Chan, the oldest out of the friend group, calls out to him.

“So.. I’ll see you at lunch then?” Hyunjin says after noticing your quietness.

“Yeah, I’ll see you at lunch,” you mumbled, shooting him a quick glance.

“Bye bro,” Hyunjin says to Minho, giving him a handshake before collecting his bag and going off with Chan.

Minho chuckles at the scene that just unfolded in-front of him; two of his best friends obviously crushing on one another but no one is making a move. Well, it’s not really you and Hyunjin’s fault since you guys don’t know about the other person’s feelings.

“You know he likes you right?” Minho blurted out and you turn your head to his direction.

“Who?” You answered nervously. Did Minho just witness everything?

“Hyunjin,” Minho replies with raised eyebrows, his smug a little bit too cocky for your liking today. You rolled your eyes at him but underneath your skin, you are hot, flustered, embarrassed.

“No way!” you denied. Hyunjin could never like you, he only saw you as a friend.

“He does—”

You scoffed a little bit too fast.

“Do you not see the way he looks at you Y/N?” You can’t tell if Minho was being serious or not.

Minho does have a history of being a joker which makes you think he’s just pranking you. But he also is a very honest friend, he would never joke around with stuff that could potentially hurt you.

“Uhhhh—” you hesitantly reply.

Minho takes in a loud breath, “—I don’t know if you’re genuinely dense or you just don’t want to admit it.”

“He doesn’t like me,” you answered.

“He does,” Minho turns his head behind to look at Hyunjin and you followed. You watch as the two made their way across the field, Chan wrapping his arms around Hyunjin’s shoulder trying to snatch your towel away from him.

“Oh, you don’t want to give it to me because that’s your girl’s towel?” Chan laughs, basically choking Hyunjin at this point.

“She’s.. she’s not.. my girl..” Hyunjin softly replies in a cough, not sure if he was actually being choked by Chan’s big arms or by choking up at you being called his girl.

“She’s not your girl.. yet?” The older boy teased.

“What do you mean?” Hyunjin questioned, hoping Chan didn’t see through him.

Chan looked back at you and Minho who was still sitting by the basketball court. You swiftly turn back to Minho, hoping Chan didn’t catch you starring at Hyunjin.

“Trust me,” Minho said with his smug face, raising his brow to the older boy across the field. “You know how to tell if he likes you?”

You stay quiet. You were curious but didn’t want to seem like it, so you just raised your eyebrow. Tell me, tell me Lee Minho!

“Make him jealous,” Minho says lifting his chin to Jisung who was currently surrounded by a group of girls shoving their gym towel into his face.

You know what Minho was referring to; that’s how Felix ended up with Nayeon. Minho suggested to Nayeon to make Felix jealous by sitting next to Jisung at some dinner since he was such a girl magnet. Next thing you know she was pulled away from the table by Felix and they have been together ever since.

You scoffed. It sure worked for them, but you weren’t going to use Jisung like that; he was your friend.

“I’m not going to use Han-Ji like that,” you replied.

“Okay look..” he blinks a little too hard at you. “Just use Han-Ji.. He is also as tired as we all are of you and Hyunjin’s….” He pauses. “..tension..”

“Who is we?” You asked confused.

Who else has been noticing your little crush on Hyunjin? Is what you really wanted to ask your best friend, but you don’t.

“..And there’s no tension between me and Hyunjin.. I don’t know what you talking about,” deny deny deny.

“Everyone in the friend group can feel the tension, you idiot,” the nickname causing you to pout. “Felix, Bin, Min, Lia—”

“—Hyunjin doesn’t like me.”

“Bet?” He was too quick with this. “I’ll let you have bragging rights if he doesn’t like you. But I get the bragging rights if he does,” he suggested.

“Huh, what?” Both of them sound bad to you. Why would you be happy with bragging rights if Hyunjin doesn’t like you back? It would sting you! And if by chance Hyunjin likes you back, you would hate to deal with Minho’s telling the whole campus he was cupid. What the hell was Minho on?

“What?” He laughed after noticing your face, full of displeasure. “I mean, the worst that could happen is he doesn’t like you back.. But then that means you get bragging rights?” Minho laughs tilting his head to the side. He can read you well.

“Dude you’re insufferable!” You rolled your eyes. He was still looking at you with his smirk.. Oh wait. “What do you mean like me back? I don’t like him,” you denied, it but wasn’t fast enough, he had caught you.

“Sure.. I know everything. Come on, trust me. I’m your best friend,” Minho nudges your shoulders. “Remember the party this weekend? How you rather sit at home and do nothing. Well maybe you should just come. We haven’t seen you out in a while.. Come, and be prettier than this..” he says looking down at your gym wear. You were in baggy sweat shorts and an even baggier t-shirt. “And I’ll help you get with him-”

“—Hey!” you shove his shoulder back. “What’s wrong with me now?!” You look down at your attire. It was gym class anyways of course you would be in this, even if you don’t participate.

“What? Nothing,” he answers playfully. “Come on, we going to be late to our next class!” Minho gets up before opening up his hand to help you up.  “Han-ji, we’re late!”

It was lunch time and you and Han-Ji ditched Minho to go down to the college’s local bakery to get some lunch.

“You’re totally not coming to the party?” Minho asked Hyunjin who was sat at the lunch table, eating his huge burrito. Seungmin, Felix and Chan were also there chiming into the conversation.

“Who’s going?” Hyunjin asked, a mouth full.

“Just the usual.. us. So, Chris, Bin, Jeongin, Yeji.. and then half of the third years are invited,” Hyunjin doesn’t look too interested. Don’t get the wrong idea, he loves his friends and parties, but he had also seen them every single day on campus, so he had no fear of missing out.

“…oh and Y/N says she’s going to come too,” Minho blurted, playing full attention to his friends reaction.

Hyunjin’s ears perks up at your name, his cheeks suddenly growing pink as he looks back at Minho.

“Actually.. I’ll come. Haven’t been had fun in a while,” Hyunjin drops the eye contact when he notices Minho’s sneer. “You want me to bring anything?” Hyunjin continues a little twitchy, playing with his food.

Minho just laughs. This was getting too exciting for him. “Bring your courage!” The rest of the boys laughed.

“What?” Hyunjin asked, narrowing his eyes at the crowd.

“You like Y/N, don’t you?” Seungmin exclaimed catching Hyunjin by surprised.

“Umm...” Hyunjin freezes. He doesn’t know how to answer. Of course, he likes you, but he didn’t want to admit knowing the boys were definitely going to tease him even more for it. But he didn’t want to say no just in case they spin it around to say he doesn’t like you at all as a friend.  

“Don’t worry bro, she likes you too,” Minho break the silence. Hyunjin’s heart stop at his best friend’s words. He didn’t know what he expected but it wasn’t that.

“Really? She likes me back?” Hyunjin replies promptly, a sheer smile pulling on his face. He was definitely blushing.  

“Back.. So you do like her?” Chan torments Hyunjin again and Hyunjin’s smile slowly faded form his face. They had caught him too.   

“Hey Y/N!” Felix calls out and the rest of the boys look over Hyunjin’s shoulder. He wanted to spin back to check but he didn’t want the boys to play more into his eagerness, so he just freezes looking straight at them.

“Hi Lix!” Your voice calls from behind him.

“Come here! Hurry!” Felix continues to make conversation with you.

“Bro just ask her out already, we’re all tired of the tension,” Chan quickly expresses.

“What tension?” Hyunjin was desperate to see what they had to say before you got to the table.

“Sexual tension,” Seungmin whispers and everyone goes silence, pressing their lips trying to hold back their smile.

“There’s no tension between me and—”

“—Okay you say there’s so tension? I guess Han-Ji can make his move then,” Minho interrupted, surprising Hyunjin again.

“Does Han-Ji likes Y/N—"

“—Shh she’s behind you,” Chan shushes the younger boy up before he could finish his sentence.

“Hey..” Hyunjin says timidly before you could even sit down.

“Hey..” you replied back, climbing over the bench so you can sit next to him. The whole group watches as Hyunjin blushed at your proximity. “Sit here,” you pat the area on the other side of you for Jisung to sit.

“Coffee and pastries for lunch? That place is like a 10 minute walk,” Chan askes from across the table.

“It’s okay, Han-ji keeps me company,” you say as you nudge Jisung a little bit and you both open up your pastry bag.

Hyunjin glances at you from aside, he stays quiet.

Hyunjin doesn’t know how to feel. He didn’t expect his boys to catch on about his feelings for you and he didn’t expect Minho to blurt out that you like him back. Hyunjin is also confused after seeing how close Han-Ji is to you too, he never really questions your close relationship until now. Does Han-Ji actually like you? Thoughts flood his brain as he continues to eat his burrito.  

You rushed home from your last Friday class to get ready for the party. You threw on one of your mini sun dress, pairing it up with some sandals and a cross body bag before collecting your black cardigan and rushing out to Yeji who was ready in the living room waiting to do some pre-party shots with you.

You and Yeji tipsy-ly made it to the loudest house on the street. Lee Minho’s residency. It was only 8pm and it was already crowded. She held your hand and clumsy pulls you through dim-lit hallways packed with people before reaching the living room. There they were, all of your friends in the living room with a drink in their hand, conversing with one another.  

“There they are!” Seungmin yells as he sees you and his girlfriend. He quickly makes his way to rip Yeji off you, pulling her into the kitchen to get a drink.

“Wow, my best friend finally came to one of my parties!” Minho appears out of no where handing you a beer.

“I was here two months ago Min..” You playfully rolled your eyes. “When you and Nayeon vomited everywhere and me and Felix had to bathe you guys.. naked,” you refreshed his memory.

“I remember.. Crazy night..” Minho laughs. He stops to look you up and down before grabbing your shoulders. “Very pretty Y/N. You planning to make someone jealous?” He complimented before getting back to his little mischiefs.

“Maybe,” you answered looking around the room. You hadn’t seen Hyunjin yet and Minho notices.

“Your boy is hella tipsy by the way, he keeps telling me he’s nervous but won’t tell me why,” Minho informs you.

“He’s not my boy.”

“Sure.. okay, anyways so not your boy is currently staring at you from behind,” Minho also announced as he stares at Hyunjin from over your shoulder.

Hyunjin’s heart stops at your presence. He has always found you pretty but tonight, he found you extremely gorgeous. Maybe because tonight was the night, he was going to let you know about his feelings. He takes another sip of his drink, pondering how he’s going to pull you away. He wanted to find the perfect timing, he didn’t want to do it too early just in case you reject him, and he has to go home early.

He watches you as you make your way to Jisung who was currently sat on the tiniest fucking armchair he had ever seen.

“Han-Ji!” You were going to follow Minho’s instructions; you either leave tonight with Hyunjin or rejected by Hyunjin but with bragging rights.

“Hey Y/N, you look like you had a couple of drinks already,” Jisung says as he touches his owns cheeks to indicate where your pink complexion was. You nodded bashfully to your friend before getting up on the arm of the chair to sit.

“It’s wet there, I just spilled my drink there. Come here,” Jisung stops you before you could sit. He pulled your arm so you can squeeze next to him on the tiny fucking armchair. You hope Hyunjin was watching.

“You okay?” Jisung asks cupping your face to lean your head against his shoulder - he knows how tired you get when you drink.

“Mhmm,” you closed your eyes as you continue to converse with your friend.

Hyunjin was still watching everything from the other side of the room. His hand was wrapped around his drink tightly, expressing his annoyance at the skin-ship and at himself for not pulling you away the second you got here, like he wasn’t waiting all night just for you to arrive. He starts to feel a little jealous now that your attention is on Han-Ji. And maybe Minho was right, and Han-Ji does have feelings for you.

He had to do it. He had to pull you away and ask why you hadn’t noticed his feelings for you all this time. He feels himself grow hot, he was feeling tense.

Hyunjin takes in a deep breath before downing the drink, squeezing his cup on the process. The plastic from the red cup causes disturbance making the boys turn their head at their friend.

“You good, pretty boy?” Changbin asks noticing the change in Hyunjin’s demeanour, taking the red cup out of his hand.

“Yeah, just need some air,” Hyunjin says running a hand through his fluffy red hair as he makes his way to you.

“Can we talk?” Someone askes from above you and you instantly open your eyes, locking eyes with them.

You feel your heart skip a beat as you finally see him. He had on some baggy jeans with a black t-shirt, one sleeved rolled up complementing his muscular arm. God, he looked so hot; you feel yourself drooling over him again.

“Okay.” You answered softly.

“Come,” he says, grabbing a hold of your hand making you get up from the chair. You heart start to flutter at his brace. Was it happening now? Is Hyunjin jealous?

He guides you through the crowd of people in the living room before dragging you up the stairs and towards Minho’s bedroom. He lets you enter first before locking the door behind him.

Your eyes wonder around Minho’s bedroom - his room was dark, quite clean, quite quiet for such a loud guy. You scoff to yourself quietly at the contrast. As you spin around the room, Hyunjin watches you and smiles at your cuteness before getting back to his senses of why he pulled you here in the first place.

“Are you drunk?” He asked suddenly.

“Hmm? Not quite yet,” you answered, making your way into Minho’s ensuite. “Why?” You asked so he can follow you, just testing the waters.

You placed your bag on the counter before digging through it trying to find your lipstick.

“What are you doing then?” Hyunjin asked towering behind you looking at you through the mirror.

“What do you mean?” You glance up at him to ask before going through your bag again, acting like you had no idea what was going on, even though your heart was beating just as fast as his.

“What were you doing up on Han-Ji like that?” Yep, he saw everything.

“I wasn’t on him?” You lied.

“Y/N.” He was getting a little be frustrated at your replies, you were obviously up to something.

“Why does it matter to you anyways—”

“—It’s making me jealous.” Hyunjin interrupted you making you glance up at him again. Minho’s plan was working. Minho was right.

You spin around to face him and finally, you can feel the tension everyone was talking about. He likes you. You feel your heart beating rapidly as he stares into your eyes. Your breathing becomes heavier as he takes another step towards you. You try to keep eye contact just to see if he drops it first, but he doesn’t. Your eyes drop first, to his lips then up to his eyes then back to his lips. They looked so full, so soft. Wouldn’t be crazy if you guys just kissed?

“Hyunjin?” You say above a whisper, lips forming into a pout right after. Hyunjin found you so precious looking up at him like this.

His resting face rapidly turns into a smirks now as he watches your eyes flicker to his lips. He knew what you wanted; he knows how you feel now. “Hmm?” He questioned, just to tease you a little bit.

“Can you just kiss me already?” You say, not begging but with a hint of desperation. You like him and you just confirmed he likes you, what were you guys waiting for?

He chuckles before his hand comes up to your face, cupping it for a second then he leans and kisses you. His lips felt so soft, so warm just like how you imagined them felt. You couldn’t explain the feeling, it was like you were in dream, it’s incredible.

Soon Hyunjin deepens the kiss, letting his tongue enter your mouth as one of his hand keeps your face in place, the other snaked down your body to your waist. Your tongue swiped against his lips, and you tasted a bit of lemonade and tequila. If this was a way to drink tequila, then you were all for it.

“Up,” he pulls away to say and you listen jumping onto the counter with the help of his grip. You spread your legs so he can stand in between them. He looks at you in awe, he couldn’t control his smile.

“You didn’t answer me..” he says as his hands find their way under your dress just resting on your thighs.

“Hm?” You whimpered, wanting his lips back on yours.

“What were you doing up on Han-Ji like that?” Hyunjin asked again, a little lower, a little more raspier now that he’s more confident to dominate you.

“To make you jealous,” you whisper back to him, admitting to all your little shenanigans.

“Why?” He couldn’t hold back his smile.

“To see if you like me back.” You say, and his ears perked up at your words.

“You got your answer?”

“Mhmm..” you admit.

“Good.”

“But.. want to hear you say it,” you reply cheekily, your arms coming to wrap around his shoulders to pull him close to you so your lips are barely touching.

He lets out an airy breath before pressing a kiss to your lips, letting it linger on for a little bit just to make your heart flutter once more for him. “I like you,” he says, and you try to conceal the smile pulling up on your face. “Happy?”

“Yes.”

“Where were we?” Hyunjin says and you pull him back onto you.

Maybe it was the pent up sexual tension you both had been holding in as, as soon as your lips were connected again, it became again heated. His hands are fondling with your thighs, and his tongue is slipped back down your mouth. You feel a hot sensation making its way to your core, a moan slipping from your lips. He smirked in between the kisses, his hands inching up higher now hiking you dress up.

Hyunjin continues his kisses down your neck, and you tilt your head back, letting him cover more area with his lips.

As he harshly sucks on your neck, your hands start to explore his body, caressing up and down his chest, down his covered stomach. You slowly creep them lower to his hard on that was pressing against the counter, begging to be touch. He lets out a groan at the contact.

“Hyunjin?” you whimpered at how stiff he was. You both wanted more but not on this cold bathroom counter. “Are we actually doing this here?” You ask.

“Where else would you do it?” Hyunjin looks down at you his a raised eyebrow, his hands stopping at your hips.

You look around before cheekily suggesting, “Minho’s bed,” and he cracks up.

“Come,” he takes a step back to hold your hand as you jump off the counter.

Hyunjin pulls you back onto him as he sat back on Minho’s bed - it was comfier than he expected, it was actually quite comfy to fuck on actually.

“You’re such a good kisser, it making me so horny,” He says, gripping your thighs so you’re straddling him. You feel his hard-on abusing your core and you become like jelly, draping yourself onto him. God, it was also making you so horny.

Are you both really gonna fuck in your best friend’s bed? Probably.

“Hyunjin?” You start to suck on his neck, returning the marks he gave you. “Wanna blow you… can I?” You asked, rolling your hips onto his.

He sucks in a sharp breath at the pleasure, halting your hips. “Fuck— kitten..” The pet name slipping from his lips, making you stop whatever you were doing to look him in the eyes. Did he just call you kitten? And did you like it?

“Yeah? Wanna be a good kitten? And suck me off right here in your best-friend room?” He teased after seeing your eyes lit up at the name.

“Yes.. wanna be a good kitten,” you replied, lifting his shirt to slowly to expose his abs, your hand lazily runs across his milky body.

You shuffled back, kneeling down by the bed before peeking at his happy trail. You finally got to see it up close, and you didn’t waste anytime before attaching your lips to it. Hyunjin’s hand flung to hold onto your hair and he lets out a groan as you suck the skin around his navel.

“You’re just like a kitten, nipping into me like that,” he moans.

“You love it,” you teased him.

“Yeah I do..” he confesses breathlessly. “Couldn’t stop thinking back to gym class yesterday.. how you eyed it all lesson..” Oh, so he caught you staring but didn’t say anything?

“Was it driving you insane?” He torments and you murmured nodding your head.

“God, kitten… need your mouth now, I’m might cum untouched,” he begs and you chuckle, blowing hot air from your mouth at his skin causing him to flinch.

You give him what he wants. You undo his jeans, shimmering it down his thighs before palming him through his boxer.

“Y/N, please..” he begs again, closing his eyes to hold in his release.

“You’re so big,” you say the second you pull down his boxer letting his red rock solid dick slap across his stomach. You didn’t expect him to be him to be this big, this thick. You gulp at it before wrapping your hands around him. “Wanna taste..” you blabbered as you brought his tip to your lips.

Hyunjin’s head kick back as you wrap your lips around his head. His hands gripped your hair tightly as he starts to set the pace, and you let him. He pushes you down taking half his length into your mouth before guiding you back up. You moan as he slides down your mouth, unable to control the pleasure you were having from just giving him head. Once you go match his pace, Hyunjin lets go of his grip and runs his through your hair, endlessly praising you as he tries to keeps himself together.

“You’re so good—” he sucks in another breath.

You take him fully into your mouth and gagged once he hits the back of your throat. “Ahh, cuming- cuming—” he lets out a low grunt as he paints your throat white. You swallow the warm thick liquid before letting go of him with a pop.

“Kitten, you’re so perfect. Such a good mouth,” he says finding your arm and pulling up to sit on his lap.

“Can I return the favour?” His hand wrapped around your hips, his finger carefully gathering the fabric of your skirt so he can expose your panties.

“I don’t know if I can keep quiet Hyunjin,” you admitted. You can still hear the loud music outside, even if it was muffled by the walls but a part of you’re still afraid someone might hear you. You couldn’t even keep it in while making out, nor sucking him off, you don’t know how you’ll be if you guys actually have sex.

“But I can’t leave you high like this,” Hyunjin replies, his two fingers just touching the fabric of your panties that was getting soaked by your wetness. You kick your head back at the pleasures “I just know you’re wet from sucking me off.. Let me, let me just eat you out..” he begged, his eyes turned dark full of lust.

“Please,” you gave in, out of breath.

Hyunjin plants a kiss to your neck before laying you down on the bed.

“Fuck, you are soaked,” Hyunjin says the second he lifts up your dress and sees the huge wet patch on your underwear. He kneels down and peels it off, watching a thin line of your wetness pulls off with it. Hyunjin spreads your legs wider and his eyes rolls to the back of his head as exposes you. You were wet, glistening, it was so hot to him.

You let out a moan as the cold from Minho’s room brushed against your core. “Please, need your mouth,” it was your turn to beg.

Hyunjin complies and attached his lips to your pussy. “Ahh! Mhmm.. More..” you weren’t kidding when you said you don’t know if you can keep quiet.

Hyunjin buries his face deeper as he contents to lick all over you, his nose rubbing against your clit. He was basically pussy drunk at his stage, gripping and pulling your hip closer to his faces. Your head falls back as you feel the pleasure building up in your core, your thighs volunteering closing around his head to add more pressure.

“I’m going cum, please.. Hyunjin— gonna cum..” you whine as he harshly sucks on your clit now, it was basically the cheat code in making you cum and he was able to get it the first time.

You moaned as you feel a glush of wetness explode from your core, you had cum. Hyunjin can tell you’re orgasming but he didn’t want to stop, you were too addicting.

You had to rip him off of you before you were overstimulated. “Hyunjin, too much,” you whined and he finally lifts his head.

“You taste too good kitten, sorry couldn’t stop,” he says and he wipes your wetness around his mouth with the back of his hand before licking it.

“Come here,” he jumps on the bed, pulling you into his arms. He runs his finger through your hair as you recover. You both stare at each other for a while before falling into a fit of giggles. How crazy is it that you were each other’s crush and not realising it.

“Should we go back out?” He asked smoothing down your hair.

“I have to touch up my lipstick first,” you say, pecking his nose.

“Let me help you,” he pulls you up from the bed before back hugging you to the bathroom where your bag was.

“Back to mine tonight, okay?” He reminded you softly as he wipes your lipstick in your lips - a hint of innocence radiating from him like he didn’t just lap up all your juices like a greedy animal.

“Of course, I have no where else I rather be tonight,” you answered, grinning from ear to ear at your pretty boy.

“Can’t believe it took you to squeeze into that tiny chair with Han-Ji for me to tell you,” Hyunjin beats himself up.

“It’s okay Hyunjin, I reckon the timing was perfect,” you reassured.

The house was packed now than before, it took you and Hyunjin a while to squeeze through all the people. Minho watch as you both hold hands, happily, making your way down the stairs, his smug pulling back on his face.

“Who got the bragging rights?” Minho asks cheekily as you both walk past him.

“You.” You answered rolling your eyes and Hyunjin laughs.

“You also got a messy bed too, bro,” Hyunjin taps Minho by the shoulders before following you.

Minho was left mouth agape as he stares up at the stairs. “Did they just…”

[kungfubarbie101]

Toy- Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

nsfw/smut, fem!reader, p in v, cunnilingus, light fingering, dom!Ghost, masked/unmasked Ghost

Ghost had entered your room, rummaging through your desk draw in attempt to find a laptop charger since Soap decided to ‘borrow’ his and then never return it. “Fucking hell, where is it….” He said to himself as he slammed the drawer shut, turning to your dresser, pulling open the top drawer to reveal a collection of lingerie.

His eyes had widened, he didn’t expect you having these finds of clothing and was pissed that you haven’t worn any for him. He stared at many pairs of thongs, knee highs, and many more things folded neatly, he lingered his eyes to a pair of sexy red lingerie that caught his eye. He got curious and lifted to outfit, unfolding it to his eye level, smirking, he thought of you wearing it, how skimpy you must look in it, how hot you would look wearing it in front of him before he strips it off of you as he fucks you.

He adjusted his pants. He was about to place them back but another thing had caught his eye, a black object that laid just right underneath of the red lingerie set. “What the fuck is this?” He questioned to himself before placing the lingerie set down and picking up the new item he just found. He held the item, studying it for a second before turning it to see that there was a button on the bottom, he furrowed his eyebrows and pushed it. As he pressed the button the whole thing began to vibrate.

He scoffed in realization. He just had found your vibrator. “For fuck sake (your name).”

Soon after Ghost had found your pervy little item, he decided he was going to ask you about it once you got back. And as you did come back to your room after training, exhausted and ready to relax you noticed that Ghost wasn’t there when he said he was stopping by. You wondered if he must have found what he was looking for and left so you went into your room, setting down your duffel bag and opening the top draw of your draw, as you looked inside you noticed that a pair of your lingerie sets had been misplaced since the last time you saw it.

The red lingerie set that had your vibrator covered, which was missing.

You furrowed your eye brows, rummaging around through your draw to make sure you didn’t misplace it and before you could question yourself you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You turned seeing Ghost.

“Looking for this?”

Your eyes widened seeing as Ghost had your toy in his fingers, waving it slightly at you. You stood speak less and embarrassed as he began to move closer to you. “Am I just not good enough, (your name)?” He pausing as he took another step forward to you, his tall figure looking down at you. “Do I just….not satisfy your desires?” His thick british accent was stern as he spoke.

You took a deep breath, steadying your breathing before speaking, “Ghost, you know you fill me up with lots of desire….quite often” You replied, your eyes shifting as you spoke, and your cheeks hot. You could almost see that shit eating grin he had on his face through his mask. “If you want pleasure (your name), just say something, call my name.” This made you smirk, shifting slightly leaning into him close to his face as you could get.

“Trust me Ghost, I’ve called you name many times. And I mean many…” Your tone had shifted to nervousness to seductive in a split second. This made Ghost have shivers of arousment go down his spine as you looked up at him with such desire and lust. Eye fucking him at this point. He bit his bottom lip, his eyes not leaving yours. “This toy won’t be needed anymore, you’ve got me, got it?” His sentence wasn’t just a question it was more of an order that if he catches you even rubbing this thing against your pussy to make you cum, he was going to show you who really can make you cum ten times as harder then this stupid toy.

Your knees felt weak, and your heart was fluttering as your stomach was doing back flips. But you couldn’t let him win over this whole teasing gig so you decided to dig deeper.

“You think you can do better?” You tease.

He chuckled at your comment, crossing his arms and pulling away from you. He was taking it as a challenge.

“I most definitely could”

You shook your head, you could tell he was semi offended just how his body language was but you continued on. “Sorry but I really can’t take your word for it….” You walked away from him, sitting at the edge of the bed, motioning him to come over which he gladly did.

“I need you to prove it to me, Simon….”

Oh boy and how that got to him, how you said his name, his actual name mind fucked him. Your ass was going to get fucked well and good.

He walked over closer to you, pushing your body down on the bed with some force. You grinned. His knee went immediately in between your crotch, leaning down into your form, grabbing you by the back of the head causing a groan from you. Your hair tangling in between his fingers, he used his free hand and practically ripping his mask off his face and kissed you hungrily. His dirty blonde hair and blue eyes gleaming in your view, it’s not like you haven’t seen his face before but whenever you do, you can’t help yourself but stare at him in awe.

The tension had grew larger as Ghost reached his hand underneath your shirt, feeling as your nipple poked out from your sports bra, he pinched your nipple through the thinner fabric, making a breathy moan come from you as he dominated your mouth.

You had no control of the situation, none once so ever. He broke the kiss, exploring to your jawline and down your neck, nibbling small marks against your skin. You let a groan slip from your tongue, which seemed to arouse him more.

“Simon….” You muttered under your breath. Running your fingers through his dirty blonde hair, he moved further down your body till he met the zipper of your cargo pants. Unzipping them and eagerly pulling them down your legs. He didn’t hold himself back.

“Shirt off now….” He said sternly.

You followed orders stripping your shirt off immediately. You now just being left in a bra and panties. He stared at your body, taking in every curve. He looked down a saw, lord and behold, you where wearing a thong. He kneeled down, pushing the side of your thong to the side, revealing the spot he was hungrily looking forward to.

He dipped his head down, running his tongue up and down. With every motion and swirl he made your body grew hotter and pleasure building inside of you. He sucked and licked circles around your pulsing clit, not stopping for anything. You gripped the sheets, moaning coming from your mouth was nothing but sweet sweet music for Ghost. You frantically pulled your bra off, your breasts bouncing slightly as they fell from your bra, your nipples hardened.

You felt Ghosts mouth leave your pussy, causing a yern from you until you felt his finger plunge inside of your hole. Your lower body arched, “Fuck!” You yelled, which caused Ghost to quickly cover your mouth. “Soap is in the other room, you be a good girl and be quiet” Ghost told you, making you nod in response before he began with no hesitation to start finger fucking you. “I can’t….” You moaned out, which only made him go faster, his fingering plunging in and out at a rapid pace where you could hardly keep up on.

Those fingers had slipped out of you, being replaced by something thicker and longer.

His dick began to slowly push in and out of you, a whimper leaving your mouth as his dick stretched you out. This aroused him, he began to thrust himself in and out, getting you use to him. “Simon…” You closed your eyes, squinting from the pain. Grabbing your hip, fitting himself all the way deep inside of your pussy. Those soft and slow thrusts quickly became rough pounding. “Oh fuck, (your name)” Ghost let out, he cocked his head back, the way your vagina walls clenched around him was nothing he had felt before, more exotic and exciting to him.

The sounds of skin slapping and shaky moans clouded the both of you as Ghost rutted his dick in you. The force hitting your g-spot at a ruthless pace. He was hungry, his grip became firm, holding you tightly as he fucked you, balls deep into your cunt. His chest heaving and eyes half lidded sent thrill through you, he looked so pretty as he was filled with much pleasure and lust. You were about to cum.

“Simon….I’m close. P-please don’t stop…” You begged between each breath as you moaned for him. Your hips grind against his as your orgasm grew. His pace began to slow which caught you off guard, and before you could even speak he spun you around to your stomach. You loved how dominant he was getting with you, you like you where being controlled.

He reached under your hips, lifting your ass up in the air for him. He placed a palm at the center of your back, pushing your back so your arching for him and you ass perked up. He rubbed his middle finger up your pussy, “God your so soaked (your name)”. He realigned with your hole, easing his dick all the way inside of you. He began to pound inside of you once again, hands gripping at your hips as he did so.

You dug your face into the pillow in front of you, concealing your moans, your fingers gripped the sheets. “(Your name) I’m going to cum….” He breathlessly confessed, followed by low groans. This set you off, “Simon….stay just like that. I’m so close…” You moaned out from the side of the pillow, crying out to him, the mascara you once had on your lashes smearing off.

At the moment you both had came, his semen coding your vagina walls. Heat pulsing and back arching, a wave of crashed over you, your legs trembled at the hard climax. You where basically quivering. Ghost had pulled out of you, almost collapsing on top of you, the pleasure he had just experienced was astronomical. He went and grabbed a damp towel, helping you clean up before he untangled his body with yours, lifting your body on top of his.

“You where right….I’ll come to you then that toy”

This made Ghosts night, but you knew you where going to get shit from Soap in the morning.

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #49

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.3k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

Taehyung's ability to persuade you to do things you normally don't feel like doing still amazes you. You've no idea how the man does it but he surely has his ways. In your defense, you didn't let yourself be persuaded quickly.

"I'm not going to a bar on Sunday, Taehyung."

That's what you told him when he suddenly came up with an idea to go out in the evening. He had decided not to go home after breakfast, not that you minded his company. Not at all. Jungkook was busy finishing your bed after breakfast while you and Taehyung watched movies the entire day. It was a calm day – until Taehyung's extrovertness and need to go out came up to the surface.

"Relax, you're not getting drunk."

So the next ten minutes were spent with his attempts of getting you to agree to his plan, involving Jungkook as soon as he came up from the office room – which is going to be your room as well from now.

"We are just going to hang out."

"Come on. Jimin bailed on me and I'm lonely."

Just a glimpse of what he said to make you finally agree.

In the end, Jungkook agreed as well and offered to be the driver.

"I can't believe he made us go out on Sunday." you comment with a mutter under your breath, glancing down at your already finished drink.

Going to a local bar is what you mean.

Jungkook glances at you, arm outstretched behind your seat as he grins. "You're acting as if it's the first time that has happened."

Well, he has a point. 

Taehyung scoffs, reminding you that he has heard you perfectly as he sits on the opposite side of you and Jungkook, adjusting the button-up Jungkook has borrowed him since he barged in wearing pajamas last night. He actually borrowed a whole outfit from Jungkook which seems kind of weird, because he looks like Jungkook. Minus the face and tattoos of course, but still. Their fashion style is kind of different, not totally but seeing Jungkook in that button-up before and now Taehyung wearing it is... interesting and odd.

Not that it doesn't suit him. Taehyung usually wears similar clothes when going out at night. It's the fact those clothes are Jungkook's but well, he looks good in them. The looks Taehyung gets from the women in this bar just proves that.

"Oh please, what were you two about to do on a Sunday anyway?" Taehyung raises his eyebrows at you lazily, "Fuck behind everyone's back?" he laughs, your entire face heating up as his name leaves your mouth in a hushed exclamation.

"Probably." Jungkook shrugs, not letting Taehyung get to him as you give him a look but he looks relaxed and not very bothered by your friend's jab.

The little twitch in the corner of his lips tells you last night has crossed his mind.

"Relax, I'm just joking," Taehyung rolls his eyes at you, "Is it really that bad to hang out with me?" Taehyung asks with a glare and edge to his voice, but looking at him you realize how the undertone of his question is plainly just sad and you immediately feel bad.

"No, Tae, that's not what I meant," you assure him, shaking your head as you prop your elbows on the table and lean closer to him. "It's just, it's Sunday and I have work tomorrow. All of us do actually. I don't want to go to sleep too late and then having to deal with Junho's annoying ass the whole next day. Plus, I can't get drunk."

It's not like you haven't done it before. It's not that big of a problem to be honest.

Everyone knows you want to get a good amount of sleep before having to wake up early in the morning. It's just how you prefer to do things and thanks to your friends, you get a good amount of clubbing and hanging out in public places a lot.

"Nobody is getting drunk. We are just having a few good drinks and that's it."

But you should've known to never trust him when it comes to drinking and having fun.

With more drinks on your and Taehyung's part, Jungkook gladly sticking to coke, the evening started to get more relaxed in terms of you relaxing and sharing a good laugh with your friends. Suddenly, getting more drinks didn't sound so bad and once Taehyung suddenly came up with another plan of visiting a nearby club, surprisingly you already stood up ready to go.

You're nowhere near dressed appropriately for a club. Just a pair of dark jeans, a nice top and heels – not your average good outfit but you don't care.

Not even when Jungkook reminds you of your work tomorrow, not very sold on the idea of going clubbing on Sunday night as you and Taehyung both wave him off. Sighing, he still joins you – not that he has a choice since he is both your driver.

It doesn't even make sense. You only go to the club to get more drinks which you could've happily got in the bar. Club is loud, full of people and stinky but in your drunken state, it seems like the most logical and greatest idea. You blame it on Taehyung.

You and Taehyung dance through a few songs though, something you wouldn't be able to do in a bar. Jungkook watches you two the entire night like a parent, and if you weren't so drunk you would feel bad for him having to stick to his non-alcoholic drinks while he babysits not only you but Taehyung as well.

He happily reminds you he's okay and doesn't want to get drunk, every time you drunkenly sit back down into the booth and pout at him.

"You're drunk," Jungkook comments, chuckling as his thumb brushes against the corner of your lips as you give him a lazy grin. "You should take it slow." he reminds you softly, snorting when you take a sip of your drink, ignoring his words.

You sheepishly grin at him, sitting back which happens to be on Jungkook's side as you cuddle up to him. Taehyung currently flirts with one of the women, which is also the reason you joined Jungkook because he shooed you away as soon as she approached you and him. Idiot.

However, he doesn't bail on you and joins you shortly after.

Jungkook reminds you two to stop drinking so much every few minutes but just like always, you both wave him off.

"Sober people are always annoying when others are drinking." Taehyung comments and you start giggling like it's the funniest thing he could've said right after Jungkook has scolded him for ordering another round of drinks.

"This sober annoying person is driving you home." Jungkook reminds him with a grumble, your giggling continuing.

To Jungkook's luck, you decide to end the night when you start getting tipsy, almost falling asleep on Jungkook's chest while Taehyung looks like he has had enough – equally getting tired and too drunk to barely stand on his feet.

How he manages to get you two in his car is beyond him, but he's glad when you're both seated in the back as he drives through the night to his apartment. Taehyung's car is in a parking lot in front of Jungkook's building, so there's no way he's driving him home. Also, he is drunk and doesn't want to waste time driving him home, having to actually get him to up his floor and apartment.

It's not like it's a bother to him for Taehyung to spend a night over. At least he is not left with blue balls this time.

"Well--this is new," Taehyung slurs drunkenly in the back, your head that's been leaned against the window lazily turns to him as you questionably look at him. "I haven't even kissed anyone tonight."

You snort, giggling. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No, it's just weird." he giggles to himself as you join him.

"You know what's weird?" you ask, pointing at your outfit as Taehyung cocks his head at you. "This outfit."

You both cackle right after, causing Jungkook to roll his eyes at the two of you and what a hangover you two are about to have. The last time you were even similarly drunk to your current state was at the New Year's Eve trip – something that's hard to forget.

"Nah, you look good." Taehyung murmurs, his words coming out as snort as he starts drifting away but your voice shakes him out of it.

"You really think so?"

You sound so hopeful and light, causing Jungkook to stifle back a laugh as Taehyung encouragingly nods like the supporting friend he is.

"No, you're just saying that because you're my friend." you grumble sadly as Taehyung drunkenly tries to reach towards you but ends up almost slapping you in the face which causes you to click your tongue at him in annoyance.

"No, I'm not!" he argues childishly as you cross your arms over your chest, not even caring your top makes your breasts almost spill out of it with how low it is tugged by your arms.

"You are!"

"No, you idiot!"

"I'm not an idiot!"

Taehyung sighs, fighting back the need to just close his eyes and sleep. "You are hot."

"You mean it?" you pout again, staring hopefully at drunk Taehyung but you're not the one to talk, looking just as hammered.

"Yeah!" Taehyung exclaims enthusiastically, "I would totally go for you if you were a stranger."

"You would?"

Jungkook listens to the absurd conversation, silently counting down the minutes to his apartment building. Why the fuck you sound so happy? 

"Yeah!" he exclaims again, burping right after as you giggle. "I would totally kiss you tonight if you weren't my friend."

"Kiss me?"

Oh fuck, you're so drunk. You even sound interested knowing the thought of kissing one of your friends – excluding Jungkook of course – is like kissing your brother. But this doesn't even cross your mind.

"Mhm, you wanna kiss?" Taehyung proposes, drunkenly sending you a crooked grin as he leans towards you while you sit behind Jungkook's seat, grinning at him just as much.

Why not? What could go wrong?

"Yeah!"

You both start to lean closer to each other, pursing your lips like little kids do but before you can even get any closer, the car comes to an abrupt stop which almost makes you both fly through windshield if it weren't for the seatbelt Jungkook has so kindly put on both of you.

Before Taehyung can even open his mouth, taking him too long to realize what has just happened, Jungkook is out of his seat as the door on Taehyung's side is pushed open.

"Yah, what the fuck man?" Taehyung complains, slurring his words as Jungkook takes off his seatbelt and pulls him out of his seat.

Taehyung complains the whole time, your drunk mind having a hard time comprehending what is happening until Taehyung sits in a passenger seat, Jungkook clicking on his seatbelt with a frown before the door is shut.

You blink confusingly at the back, your stomach feeling funny from the harsh stop you just made as you're trying not to throw up.

"You're both so fucking wasted." Jungkook mutters under his breath, putting the car into drive fastly.

You both fall asleep for the rest of the ride, Taehyung waking up just as Jungkook parks in an underground garage where he only recently bought a parking spot. He already looks as if he can't remember a thing, blinking as he watches his surroundings with sleepy and bloodshot eyes – Jungkook chuckles once he notices Taehyung's dumbfounded expression.

Getting him out of the car is just as hard as he expected, Taehyung barely able to stand on his feet while Jungkook scolds him to at least try and stand for a solid minute while he tries to get you out of the car.

Taehyung leans against his car, palms messily outstretched on its windows as he leaves handprints all over it and Jungkook has to take a deep breath. Opening the door on your side, you're already sleeping with your head and neck in an uncomfortable position.

You're so out of it, he thinks as he tries to wake you up. Brushing a few strands of your hair off your face, he gently calls out your name while he shakes your shoulder but you murmur something under your breath, trying to swat his hand off.

Sighing, he grunts once he sneaks his arms around your frame and tries to take you into his arms. With your lack of response and difficult position it's not easy but eventually he successfully manages to pull you out, holding you bridal style as he shuts the car door with his hip.

"Why don't I get such a privilege?" Taehyung pouts, slurring once he notices you in Jungkook's arms while he's scared to let go of the car, guessing he won't be able to hold himself on his feet for long.

"Because you're heavy and my size," Jungkook answers nonchalantly, telling him to at least try holding his forearm, so he doesn't fall.

Carrying you in his arms with Taehyung attached to his side is even more difficult but by the time you make it into the elevator, he promises himself not to ever listen to you or Taehyung's drunk ideas.

Fortunately for Jungkook and his sake, Taehyung finds his way to the couch and even though Jungkook had to scold him to take off his shoes before he enters his home any further, he slouches himself on the couch and falls asleep right away.

Jungkook manages to put you into your newly assembled bed and fresh sheets. The bed fits into his office room but with the lack of space, one side has to be pressed against the wall and it looks a little bit awkward but it's not like it's important.

While Jungkook is taking your shoes off, you start to shift on your spot as your eyes open with a few lazy blinks as you look around. It's funny watching you trying to figure out where you are, until you spot Jungkook's desk and computer before Jungkook himself stares at you with a tiny amused grin.

You suddenly pat your face, gasping. "My make-up."

For fuck sake, Jungkook thinks as he sighs and is ready to try to convince you to take it off tomorrow because he doesn't have the energy to get you to the bathroom and take it off for you while you will keep dozing off. He doesn't really need you falling and hitting your head or something. Why can't you just lay down and sleep like Taehyung does? 

You're already standing up before Jungkook can somehow convince you to go to sleep either way, and he quickly pushes you back to bed. "Alright, alright, I'll be right here. Just wait."

A tiny part of him, okay actually a big one, hopes by the time he comes back you'll be already asleep but of course, it wouldn't be you if you listened to his never spoken pleas. He finds you staring at the ceiling with a lazy look, your eyes fighting for some sleep but you remain awake, looking at Jungkook who sits on the edge of bed.

He takes off your make-up, careful not to be too harsh with his movements. He brought way more make-up wipes than it's needed and if you were observant enough, you would definitely scold him for wasting your wipes like that.

Luck is on his side and you remain oblivious to the unnecessary waste but in his defense, he wants to make sure all of your make-up is gone and you won't curse him the first thing in the morning if you had panda eyes or new break-outs. Honestly, he thinks you would curse him out even if you hadn't any of those, just the thought of going to sleep with your make-up on would be a good reason for you to scold him.

He can't help but chuckle at his thoughts – at the sight of you who has a lazy smile spreaded on your lips.

"Did I really kiss Taehyung?" you suddenly ponder quietly, eyes slowly opening as you try to locate Jungkook ones.

"You almost did." Jungkook answers, gently rubbing the make-up wipe on your chin.

"Oh," you let out, surprised that it wasn't a figment of your drunken imagination. "Wow."

Jungkook glances at you for a second, eyes flickering to your astonished expression before he goes back to his task. "Yeah," he mumbles, "Didn't know you had a thing for Taehyung."

He knows you don't – that's why his tone comes out more light as he lightly jokes.

"I don't," you reply,  "I mean... What's wrong about kissing another friend of mine?" you joke back, snorting at your joke while he frowns.

But he remains silent, not even sure what to say to that because you're clearly drunk. Sober you would be freaked out at the thought of kissing him.

"Jimin has a girlfriend now, so I can't kiss him too."

An audible but slight snort leaves Jungkook's mouth as you continue with your joking.

"Well, too bad it's only us guys." Jungkook jokes, your grin falling off your face immediately as he puts the last make-up wipe onto the floor before he informs you he's done, but that goes unnoticed by you as you sit up.

"What do you mean by that?" you ask, frowning as he catches you by your forearm when you totter and almost fall back. "You would kiss other girls?"

Jungkook tries to stifle back a laugh as your hardened and serious face is not too hard to miss.

"Weren't you about to kiss Taehyung?" he points out, still joking of course but in your current state you can't seem to notice the slightest twitch of his lips or the way he bites into the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from laughing.

This is actually interesting, he thinks, obviously he is just joking and it's not because he can't imagine having another woman or women in your small friends group of four. It's because he's already risking too much by being this close to you – but he purposely pushes any doubts and fears away – he surely wouldn't risk any other friendship by just kissing his friends.

Lifting your hand up, you sloppily trace his lips while he stares at you amusingly as you seem too deep in your thoughts. "Your lips are mine to kiss." you tell him, grinning drunkenly at him and he bites back a laugh, rubbing his nose to hide his grin instead.

"Yeah?" he chuckles and you give him one stiff nod.

"Yeah," you confirm, "I'm not allowing any other girls in our group."

"Alright," Jungkook finally laughs, nodding as he stands up and ushers you to lay back down. "You're the boss here."

Again, you miss his amused tone and expression, thinking he's completely serious as you nod.

"Of course I am," you purse your lips, "I don't want to sleep in my jeans," you mutter sleepily, trying to unbutton them but it's hard to do in your state. "Help me?"

Jungkook sighs, but helps you to get out of your clothes. He was hoping you would just go to sleep. It's not like he minds changing your clothes. He's not exactly a typical best friend and he has seen it all, like you would gladly remind him if he refused, but still – he doesn't find it comfortable changing your clothes when you're in this state. Purely out of respect for you.

Once you're out of your clothes, bra gone with your panties only shielding you, Jungkook tries not to look at your exposed form until he hands you one of your larger size t-shirts you sleep in. You ask for pants which he puts on you as well, the first one he has managed to find which happens to be with a Christmas motive.

"Okay, you're all set boss," Jungkook says, clapping his hands together as he's about to stand up but you grab him by his wrists, slowly sitting up as you tug him closer to you. "What is it?"

You just stare at him, fighting off the sleepiness as you inch closer and deliver a soft peck on his lips. Jungkook is stunned for a moment, staring at you confusingly as you give him a sheepish grin.

"I'm just staking my claim."

Jungkook snorts in amusement, shaking his head at you. "Because of who? I'm not kissing anyone else." he laughs and you frown, suddenly pouting as if you just remember what he is talking about. In your drunk and hazy mind, you have trouble trying to remember what happened in the car in the first place.

"As you shouldn't," you tell him smartly and he laughs quietly.

He knows you're drunk but if it happened while sober, he would actually think you're quite selfish for saying that considering you were about to drunkenly kiss Taehyung. But 'drunkenly' is the key point and he understands that. He doesn't even care, knowing you both got wasted that you barely knew what you were doing. He was just teasing you earlier, he wasn't expecting you to start talking about it.

"I'm getting cold, can you cuddle me?"

"Drink some water first," he says, handing you the glass of water he brought earlier along with the make-up wipes.

You do, gulping it in one go before you hand him the glass back, making yourself comfortable in your bed as Jungkook covers your body. Urging him to join you in bed, he tries to explain he needs to take a shower as you whine childishly. But he doesn't ask you, simply walking out of the room to take a quick shower.

He goes back to check on you, not expecting you to still be awake as you pat a free space next to you.

There's no escape from this, that much is clear to him and without arguing, he joins you in bed.

You start caressing the side of his face and he stares at you with a confused yet amused expression but that's until you give him a kiss. Is that a mint he tastes? 

He frowns in confusion, wondering where the hell have you found it but then he sees a pack of mint dragees on the side table.

However, the kiss doesn't last too long because he pulls away and you pout immediately.

"You don't want to kiss?"

He doesn't know whether you're annoying right now or just cute.

"You're drunk." he informs you as if he just told you news, or at least that's how you currently look as you open your mouth and almost offendly stare up at him.

Your mind seems to be clouded and in your current state you don't understand there are a few reasons why Jungkook wouldn't want to kiss at this moment – but right now all you can feel is offended that he pulled away.

"No, I'm not."

Jungkook chuckles, looking down for a moment while he stays propped on his elbow. "Yes, you are."

You give him a glare, trying to look intimidating but Jungkook wants to laugh rather than feeling intimidated.

"Okay, maybe a little bit," you roll your eyes, "But we can still kiss?"

"That's not what a gentleman would do." Jungkook hums, lips twitching when you whine and slap sheets frustratedly instead.

"Then don't be a gentleman."

"You're so bratty when you're drunk." he comments, shaking his head at you with a grin as he leans over you.

For a moment you think he's about to kiss you but he turns off the lamp instead, causing you to frustratedly huff.

"I won't ever kiss you." you murmur, huffing again as Jungkook lets out another snort.

"We'll see about that." Jungkook mutters and you scoff.

"No, I won't. You can kiss my ass next time."

"Oh, I will," Jungkook grins, "Gladly,"

You turn around with your back to him, mind getting too hazy and tired to continue this argument – or whatever it is.

"Now go to bed, brat. You'll have a nice awakening tomorrow."

You barely register his words, murmuring something you can't even realize you're saying because you're completely out of it. You drift off to sleep with Jungkook scooting closer, enveloping you with his arm and warmth.

"Fucking hell,"

Jungkook isn't even surprised when those are your first words as you join him in the kitchen, holding your head with a pained expression scrunching your puffy morning features.

He has heard voices before you came here, you and Taehyung both complaining about yesterday's night and how much you've overdone it. Not that he disagrees.

Sitting on the stool, Jungkook slides you some painkillers with a glass of water – the same thing he did to Taehyung before he went back to sleep.

"Thanks, you're a lifesaver."

Jungkook playfully rolls his eyes, preparing cereals for himself as he sends you a look across his shoulder. "Have you thrown up already?"

"Yeah." you embarrassingly admit, just right after you woke up and made it to the bathroom.

"That's good, you will feel better now. If it makes you better, Taehyung already threw up two times. Luckily I expected it, so I prepared a bucket next to him."

You give him a crooked smile, despite the pain your stomach and head is already experiencing.

"What about work?" Jungkook asks, glancing at the digital clock on his stove, seeing you should've been gone a long time ago.

He didn't want to wake you up, knowing you won't be able to wake up at six in the morning when you went to sleep around midnight completely wasted.

"I called Junho, told him I woke up feeling sick."

Yeah, some time in your still half drunk state with a raspy and gruffy voice.

"What did he say?"

"He wasn't happy," you wince, "I'm sure he added to my headache."

"He's a fucking idiot then." Jungkook shrugs, showing you his bowl of cereal in a silent offer but you almost gag, shaking your head with a hand on your mouth.

"Please, I'm the idiot here. Who gets drunk on Sunday when they have work the next day?" you deadpan, Jungkook snorting.

"True,"

He gives you a grin across his shoulder and you reciprocate it, rolling your eyes at him.

"Maybe you'll learn from your mistakes."

"You're annoying." you comment, Jungkook holding his breakfast as he starts eating while standing.

You notice he's fully closed. Jeans, oversized emerald colored hoodie looking fresh which can't be said about you or Taehyung who's trying to sleep his hangover off.

"So were the two of you," Jungkook reacts right away, "Do you remember something from last night?"

"Just fragments," you cringe at yourself, "Did I do something embarrassing?"

Jungkook smirks, swallowing his bite as he leans back against the counter. "Well, let's see...you guys kept drinking despite me warning you. You just waved me off every time and oh, you and Taehyung were about to kiss,"

You wince, but not saying anything about it as he continues.

"I had to take off your make-up, as usual. Then you wanted to kiss me but you were drunk, so I tried to politely refuse but you got all bratty,"

He's enjoying it, it's not that hard to tell considering he's amusingly grinning. "You told me my lips are only yours to kiss."

"Oh my god!" you exclaim, hiding your face away from him as he finally breaks and starts laughing.

"Do you remember any of it?"

"Yes to Taehyung, even though it's pretty hazy and I don't remember much from there. But I do remember uh," you gulp, "saying something about your lips."

"Yeah, you got very serious about it."

"Shut up," you glare at him right away. "I was drunk! You can't take me seriously!"

"Didn't know you wanted to kiss me so badly." he continues to tease you as you groan, searching for something around you to hit him with and Jungkook erupts into another fit of laughter.

"I don't," you grit through clenched teeth, "My drunk self gets cuddly and loves affection." you mutter, pouting as Jungkook scrunches his nose as he grins.

"I figured."

"Please just shut up," you beg him, "Where are you going?"

Jungkook smirks, your attempt of changing topic doesn't go unnoticed by him but he decides no longer to make you suffer.

"I'm working till four and then I'm gonna hang out with Ester."

"Oh," you let out surprisingly, "Okay."

"She's joining me on my last shoot, I want her to see how I work so we can, you know, do a better job when we work on that project,"

Ah, yes. The project Junho wanted Jungkook on. You're supposed to work on it in a month or so, the date going back and forth but not too much that it would cause any problems to Jungkook, due to his busy schedule. It's pretty unusual for him to be still home at this time – but not completely rare.

"What are you gonna do today?"

"There's not much I can do with a hangover," you snort, "I think I'm gonna spend the day with Taehyung until he decides to go home." you shrug as Jungkook nods while he continues eating.

In that moment Jungkook's phone starts to ring, interrupting your conversation even though there wasn't much to be said as his eyebrows furrow in curiosity while he pulls the phone out of the pocket of his jeans.

"It's Jimin," he says, looking at the screen before he accepts it and taps the screen, putting the phone on the counter between you two. "Hey, you're on speaker."

"Finally!" Jimin exclaims, "Who's there?"

"Hey, Jimin." you call out, letting your presence known as Jimin greets you back.

"Where the hell is Taehyung? I tried to reach out to him but his phone seems to be turned off." Jimin asks, while Jungkook leans forward against the counter with his elbows, brows raising up as he glances at you and grins.

You shake your head playfully, "Don't worry, he's here at Jungkook's. His battery probably died."

"Ah, typical of him. I should've known it's nothing serious but what is he even doing there, Kook?"

As Jungkook opens his mouth, awake Taehyung joins you in the kitchen as he recognizes Jimin's voice immediately, not that it matters because he glances at the screen either way to make sure it's really him.

"What's up, traitor." Taehyung greets Jimin, a beat of silence on the other side as you and Jungkook snort.

"Where the hell have you been, man? I was trying to reach you but apparently your battery is dead. Were you partying again?"

Taehyung purses his lips as he stares at the phone with raised brows, which you have to admit is kind of funny especially with his puffy and totally hangover face. At least this time he doesn't stink of alcohol and you can smell mouthwash whenever he opens his mouth – not that you were any different though.

"I was, indeed. We were actually, you know, us single people, although..." he trails off and gives you and Jungkook a look.

Jungkook rolls his eyes and you glare at Taehyung, silently telling him to shut up. Thankfully, he just grins back playfully at you, enjoying teasing the hell out of you and Jungkook. Jimin doesn't catch Taehyung's implication and just continues to burble that he just wanted to talk to him, but as if he knew Taehyung will open his big mouth and most likely call him out on his new relationship, he just casually says Taehyung to call him.

It looks like Jimin is not sure whether you and Jungkook know about his relationship – which you do thanks to the mentioned Taehyung's big mouth – and it is kind of amusing to see him playing it safe when all of you know the truth.

However, you would appreciate Jimin coming up to you and telling you when he wants to. Even though, in your opinion, it's not a big deal at all.

Their call ends shortly after, Jungkook has to go to work and you and Taehyung are left to deal with your hangover alone. Left to just simply wait until it passes away because there's nothing else you can do.

That's until Taehyung realizes he has never called into his work to tell them he's not coming today.

You have a great moment of laughing at the way he tries to fake sickness while he keeps flicking you off, glaring at you as he warns you to keep your mouth shut.

"Oh, you're awake,"

Surprised by Jungkook being wide awake, still lying in his bed while you tried to sneak-in into his bedroom to take some of your clothes, you expected him to be still asleep considering he starts working around lunch today.

The past two weeks have been pretty hectic for both of you, especially for Jungkook since he has barely been home and if he has, he spent it in his office anyway. There were a few times when you were falling asleep with him still editing photos in the room – something he always apologized for and tried to do his work quickly, so you could sleep peacefully. It doesn't matter how many times you assure it's okay and you don't really mind.

Yes, you prefer to sleep in complete silence and darkness, but there was something peaceful about the occasional clicks that lullabied you to sleep.

So the last thing you expected to see is him being awake at seven in the morning. Though his face is puffy and looking as if he has just woken up, he looks pretty awake for someone that can sleep a few more hours – you know you would.

Jungkook waves at you lazily, hoisting himself up so his back is leaned against the headboard.

"Sorry, I spilled my make-up on my pants and it doesn't match with my blouse, so I need to grab new clothes." you apologize, fully realizing you're just in a pair of underwear, completely exposed to Jungkook but you don't pay that much attention to it.

It's not like he has never seen you like this before. Yes, you don't usually walk around half-naked, that's his speciality, but you don't feel uncomfortable.

The office barely has space for your bed, so all of your clothes are actually in Jungkook's closet and drawers – that's why you often take your next day outfits to your room, so you don't have to barge into his bedroom every morning.

"No worries," Jungkook rasps out, voice tilted to more light and amused side. "I'm enjoying the view."

You straighten, suddenly realizing you've been a little bit bent over right in front of him, trying to search for one of your skirts you wear to work.

Giving him a look across your shoulder, you purse your lips and raise your brows at him, seeing him grinning at you widely with his eyes almost disappearing.

"Why are you awake anyway?" you ask, turning back around to search for your clothes. Luckily, you woke up a little bit earlier for some reason, so you've got some time to kill.

Where is the damn skirt? 

Met with silence, you turn your head around, enough to see Jungkook eyeing your ass with tongue slowly licking his bottom lip as you exclaim his name in disbelief.

"Couldn't sleep," Jungkook shrugs, eyes still attached to your backside. "Are those new panties?"

Sighing, you ignore him as you finally pull out the right skirt, tossing it at the end of his bed while you search for a top that matches.

"Since when do you wear a thong to work?"

Clenching your jaw, you turn around to him with a hand on your hip, raising your brows. "Sometimes, I do."

"Mhm," he hums, eyes momentarily on yours before they drop down your body. "Come join me in the bed." he says casually as you let out a surprised laugh.

"I'm going to work, Jeon. I don't have time for this."

"I can be quick."

"I know you can," you hum, "I don't want to be late."

You're not one to refuse sex, not when the last time you had it was a little over two weeks ago and you're too ashamed to admit that your friend was in the next room. Ashamed, but still kind of excited when you think about it. Like you said, those two weeks have been hectic and when you had the time, Jungkook was busy and even when there was a little time to chat, times where he would join you on the couch, you would rather spend that time catching up and just spending time together rather than having sex.

"Okay, so just stay bended for five minutes then,"

He says it so casually that if you weren't listening to him, you would have thought he's talking about the most casual and random thing.

Eyes almost falling out of their sockets, you stare at him in utter disbelief as you notice the sudden movements under the sheets. "Wait–are you touching yourself?!" you exclaim in disbelief, Jungkook rolling his eyes at your reaction as he shrugs.

"I woke up with a hard cock," he answers nonchalantly, "I'm serious, just bend over. I'm gonna have to at least settle with a good view."

He's serious, you realize as you see him touching himself right in front of you, eyes locked onto yours while you stare with your mouth open, too shocked to speak. But you shake yourself out of it, shaking your head at his bluntness while you ignore the starting tingle between your thighs. There's just something about him being so worked up, wanting to use you for the visual that makes your skin hot.

It's also a huge boost of confidence and maybe that's one of the reason sex with Jungkook is so good. No one has ever made you feel so confident and good in your own skin, especially when it comes to sex. Sure, you felt more confident with Haneul compared to Haechan, only because Haneul hasn't been that much experienced and everything you knew, learned from Jungkook and having sex with him, you used with him.

Jungkook hands slowly pumping his length under the covers, you gape at him as you snort a little, turning back to the closet as you pull out a white turtleneck, coming to a conclusion it matches well with your soft pink powder skirt.

Tossing it along with a hanger next to your skirt, Jungkook whines when you're turned back to him, robbing him from the previous side of your ass and the thong that barely covers you.

But you join him in the bed, your knees on the soft mattress as you start crawling to him which makes his eyes sparkle with hope.

"You're really shameless, you know that?" you ask, sending him a grin once you slowly pull the cover off his lower body, revealing his hand wrapped around his hard length.

Trying not to salivate at the sight, you nudge his hand away and quickly replace it with your own as Jungkook sighs in delight.

"So are you," he sighs pleasantly, closing his eyes with head leaning against the headboard. "Come on, get on my lap."

As tempting as that sounds, you refrain yourself from doing as Jungkook pleases, only because you know there's not much time you've got left. You can't afford to take a quick shower, knowing you most likely would be running late to work and Junho is already annoyed at you for not coming to work two weeks ago, when you were hungover – which he hopefully doesn't know but still, it would be just adding fuel to the fire.

"I can't," you tell him, wrapping your lips around his red tip as you gently suck on it, causing his breath to hitch. You look up at him, hand pumping him up and down as you lick your lips. "I've got work, we can't have sex."

Well, at least he's getting something out of it and he doesn't push it. You go back to work, working your lips and mouth on him again, trying to take him deeper into the warmth of your awaiting mouth.

"You, uh, you still haven't told me about what you wanna–"

"Do you seriously want to talk or get your dick sucked?" You cut him off, simply because you already know what he was about to say. You knew he wouldn't just let go of your previous conversation.

"Actually–"

But you don't get him a chance to finish his sentence, going straight for his balls as you know he loves, your mouth sucking on them while your wrist twists as you pump his hard cock. He curses under his breath, hand already wrapped around your hair as he puts it into a ponytail, tightening his hold on it.

"Fuck, you really are minx."

You smile against him, licking a long stripe up his length which glistens with your saliva .

"Are you sure you've got time for this?" he questions with a breathy chuckle, noticing you're not playing around and going right in with giving him a mindblowing blowjob.

Letting him out of your mouth with an audible pop, you glance up with a little smirk.

"I can be quick." you tease, seeing his lips curve into a familiar smirk before you continue.

"That's not fair–mhm, yeah fuck just like that."

You would snort if your mouth wouldn't be full of his cock. You just hope your make-up won't be ruined after this because even though you're not wasting any time, you're still careful enough not to gag around him or take him too deep which could make your eyes water. Jungkook seems pleased with what you're doing though, not really minding that he's not hitting the back of your throat because whatever you're doing right now, he's enjoying it.

And just when you think things can get any worse for you, considering the wetness between your thighs that's understandable and hard to ignore, Jungkook lets go of your hair and sneaks his hand under your bralette, palming your breast. You let out a sound, both of you not sure if it's to scold him or moan, Jungkook pinches your breasts which makes you whine around him.

Too ashamed to admit it, your heat is pulsing with need and desperation, and for a moment you wonder if you will risk it and let Jungkook have his way with you. Your responsible self is against it though, knowing you barely have the time to get to work just in time.

With your jaw already aching and your spit drooling down Jungkook length, you sneak your hand to his balls as you squeeze, knowing it will just fasten his orgasm. Jungkook breathing gets quicker, his own hips trying their best not to thrust into your mouth as you quicken your pace. A round of curses resound from Jungkook's mouth, a few words of him praising you how good you're taking his cock, he informs you he's close.

"Where do I cum?" he asks breathlessly, orgasm approaching every second. "You want it in your mouth?"

You hum in confirmation. Well obviously, you don't want to get your make-up ruined, you would tell him if your mouth wasn't full of him. And you definitely can't afford to feel his cum on your skin, knowing you would have to take a shower because there is no way you'll go to work with a sticky chest and dried cum on it.

"My little slut," Jungkook grits his teeth and if you weren't busy sucking him off, you would gasp at those explicit words you haven't heard in a while. Again, you feel your walls clenching around nothing and it takes a lot of restriction not to sit on his lap and ride him.

"Fuck."

And then your mouth is being filled with Jungkook's warm and salty cum, your mouth eagerly swallowing it as you slow down your pace, letting him sloppily thrust into your mouth while he fucks himself through the orgasm. Once he's done, he lets out another but loud pleased sigh, head thumping against the headboard.

Pulling his softening cock out of your mouth, your thumb catches some of his cum in the corner of your lips as you suck on your digit, swallowing it just in the right time as Jungkook glances at you.

"You're amazing."

"Of course I am," you cock a brow at him knowingly, grinning as you get off the bed. "Is my make-up ruined?" you ask, quickly gathering your clothes as you start putting them on.

Your lipstick has to be gone, considering most of it is painting Jungkook's cock. At least you chose a nude shade this time.

"No." Jungkook answers, grinning at you as you sigh while you start adjusting your turtleneck.

Quickly making your way to the bathroom to check your appearance, you gasp. He lied. Not only is your lipstick no longer on your lips, it's smeared on the right part of your cheek and your mascara is a little bit smudged. Well, you used to look worse and considering the intense morning blowjob you just gave him, you do look pretty decent. Just not decent to go to work like this.

"Jungkook!"

A sound of cackling is what you hear in return.

There's no time for scolding him, the time on your phone you quickly check shows you're already running a little bit late. You just hope you will manage to still come in time, not wanting to explain to Junho why you're running late. Not that you would tell him the truth of course.

Quickly yelling a bye to Jungkook after you get rid of the smudges and reapply your lipstick, you rush to work and luckily, the road hasn't been that busy which didn't make it even more difficult for you. You manage to arrive just in time which makes you relax.

It's only five minutes later when you sit behind your desk that you realize you never brushed your teeth or used a mouthwash after the blowjob, Jungkook's taste remaining on your tongue. When Benjamin offers you a coffee, you accept it with hot cheeks and a crooked smile.

Jungkook returns back home in the afternoon before you, tidying up the place even if there's not much to begin with. He takes care of the laundry, feeling bad that you've been taking care of it for the past few weeks since he's been too busy to do most mundane things. He's glad he could've gone to the gym for a good work-out at least twice in a week, which is way less frequent from what he's used to.

That's why he purposely scheduled today to be more free, and had only one photoshoot to do before he came back home.

Ironically, he feels more exhausted than he usually does when he's totally busy and constantly doing something productive. But just as he plops down on the couch, eyes searching for the remote to turn on the television, his phone starts to ring.

Jungwon. Well, that's unexpected.

"Hey, bro." His brother's voice resounds from the phone even before Jungkook can open his mouth, noticing he's video calling him.

"What's up, hyung?" Jungkook grins, noticing the background of their living room as his brother sits down.

"You never call, I have to be the one who reaches out to you," Jungwon teasingly scolds him, earning a playful roll of his eyes. "Mom whined about it too. You barely call them."

Jungkook winces at the mention of their parents. "I'm so busy with work, hyung. But I try to call her as much as I can."

"She misses you," Jungwon grins, not saying anything new because she misses him all the time and she tells him every time they call each other. "Me like a good son, told her that."

"Well, you, a good son, live in the same city. At least she has you close." Jungkook remarks, a guilt spreading on his face at the thought of his parents, and mostly mom, knowing she probably just misses talking to her son.

Jungwon notices it though, dropping his teasing as he gives Jungkook a warm smile. "You're her youngest son. Always been her baby." he teases again, causing Jungkook to groan and throw his head back, though there's a smile spreading on his lips.

"I will call her tomorrow."

"I know, I was just teasing you. She is dramatic sometimes."

They both share a laugh, knowing their mom gets super sentimental whenever it comes to her two sons, no matter how old they are. It's true it's been a few weeks since he called his parents, which is longer than usual, though the latest call he had with his mom was anything but pleasing. When Jungkook's mom kept asking about Kiko, inviting them to visit them soon he just had to tell her the truth. Well, a part of it and that is revealing they're no longer together, and this time it's final.

To say she was surprised is an understatement. She was happy when Jungkook told her they're back together, simply wanting what's best for her son and she thought it's her. Surely, he kept a lot of private things away from her which he's not sure if she knew how she would react. Like it was mentioned, she is sentimental and he didn't want to hurt her any further by knowing the raw and cruel truth. At least not through a phone call and to be completely honest, he's not sure if he wants to tell her. It's not something he has thought about a lot.

He prefers not to think about it too much, simply just distracting himself from the unnecessary thoughts.

But he told her and so did he tell Jungwon as well the last time they spoke. He was just as surprised, but ultimately they've all been very supportive and to Jungkook's luck, they weren't talking or asking about it too much which he appreciated.

"How are you guys though? How's Haru?" Jungkook asks, cutting himself from the thoughts as he notices his brother's soft smile at the mention of his precious daughter.

"We're good, that's why I'm actually calling you." Jungwon grins sheepishly, scratching the back of his head as Jungkook raises his brow at him in question, knowing he probably has an ulterior motive for calling him.

"What is it?"

"We're planning a trip to Seoul next weekend, we've never taken Haru there so now that she's older it's more fun because she experiences more things and it's fun for her too. I'm actually planning on surprising Sona and I made a reservation at this very nice restaurant, but you know, I wanted it to be romantic and just us. I know you work during weekends sometimes, but I was wondering if you couldn't babysit Haru for us?"

"Hyung!" Jungkook exclaims, Jungwon giving him another sheepish grin.

Obviously, Jungkook loves his niece and always buys her gifts whenever he sees her, something he gets scolded for by her parents. He loves spending time with her and he misses her, though the thought of actually babysitting her makes him feel a little unsettled. The only people who have ever babysat her were his parents or Sona's.

What if she cries the whole time? He hasn't seen her for months now, the only visual has been through video calling.

"Please, tell me you're free." Jungwon pleads.

"I am but--"

"Please help us. We have barely had time for just ourselves, I really want to take her out on a romantic dinner. I already made a reservation."

"What if she cries? What if she--"

"Jungkook-ah," Jungwon sighs, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Haru absolutely loves you and talks about you almost all the time. She's gonna be fine. So will you."

"I don't know hyung," Jungkook scratches the back of his head, scrunching his nose a little. "Where are you guys staying?"

"I found a good hotel. But the dinner reservation is around seven, I don't know how long we will be there but it's gonna be around Haru's past bedtime, so I would be very very very," Oh, no. "happy if she could stay a night over there. We will pick her up the first thing in the morning, I promise."

"It's not about that and you know it," Jungkook sighs, "What if she really misses you and starts crying or something?"

"Then you will call us and we will pick her up." Jungwon says casually as if it's the easiest thing.

And it is. He doesn't know why he's suddenly so nervous about babysitting his own niece whom he loves very much.

"Fine." Jungkook mutters, rolling his eyes playfully as Jungwon exclaims a loud "yes", thanking his younger brother as if he just saved his life.

He supposes that's what happens when you get married and have a child. There is barely any time for romance, Jungwon's face of happiness clearly says it all.

"No."

"Y/N, please!"

"Jungkook, I'm not a babysitter." you murmur, feet tiredly tapping against the floor as you make your way to the kitchen to get rid of your dry throat.

You've come home later than usual, you had to stay overtime with some of the co-workers, along with Yoongi who kept annoyingly showing his irritation every five minutes. Spending your day in heels for more than a half day, the last thing you expected was for Jungkook to jump at you as soon as you took off the annoying heels, trying to include you into something he promised to his brother apparently.

"But you love kids!" he exclaims, right at your heels as he follows you.

"I do," you nod, pulling out a bottle of water out of the fridge as you open the cap and take a short sip because of its coldness. "What if something happens? I don't want to be responsible for that."

"Nothing will happen," he assures you, "Come on, I thought you loved Haru."

"I do, she's cute," you argue, "But she doesn't even remember me. We were there last summer and ever since then I haven't seen her. How do you know if I don't have any plans for the weekend?"

You take a few gulps before you close the bottle and place it on the counter, met with Jungkook's stare.

"Well, do you?" He arches his brow at you as you purse your lips.

"I don't."

Jungkook scoffs, letting out a sigh as he slowly looks up at you. "Didn't you use to babysit? You've got to have some experiences."

His perseverance wants to make you laugh because this man never gives up.

"I did, back at home and it was a few years ago." you deadpan, causing him to sigh again as he slowly walks to you while you watch him warily.

"I could really use your help," he mutters, thumb wiping your undereyes where the mascara is a little bit smudged but you haven't got the time to see your reflection yet. It's been a long day. "Haru is sweet. She's not a spoiled kid, she's actually very calm and we'll have to babysit her just for a few hours because then it's her bedtime."

You stare into his dark orbs, finding them looking at you with those big eyes and a cute expression that makes you groan. It's not like you're against helping him or babysitting his niece. She really was cute the last time you've seen her.

"Fine." you roll your eyes, Jungkook clapping excitedly before you're wrapped by his arms, face pressed tightly against his chest.Who are you kidding? Of course you would agree one way or another.

[seungminsleftear]

Six Years, Five months and Two days | FIVE X READER

pairing: five hargreaves x reader

Word Count: 5470

Genre: angst

General Notes: Lila x Five did happen here folks :/, sexual themes, crude language, this does not correlate with whatever happens during seasons 4 other than Lila and Five jumping into a different timeline together for seven years,, Reader is referred to as female and wife,

Trigger Warnings: Infidelity and Betrayal, Emotional and Psychological Trauma, Unresolved Grief and Loss, Intimacy and Relationship Issues, Family Conflict, Self-Worth and Identity Crisis, Anger and Violence, Emotional Isolation, Suicidal Thoughts or Self-Harm, Intimate Relationship Details

Author’s note: I have not watched season 4 and yet I know about Five x Lila… Kms

Spoiler: All you get is, There will be a part 2

Click here for part Two!

I MOVED ACCOUNTS THE REST OF THIS FIC WILL BE PUBLSIHED ON @seungminsbaldspot !!

They had been missing for a few hours now, and the anxiety was beginning to gnaw at your insides. You could only guess that Five and Lila had gotten caught up in a different timeline—something your husband was well-acquainted with doing. You tried not to think the worst. After all, Five was skilled, perhaps the most skilled among you, but the worry persisted like a shadow clinging to your every thought.

He had told you stories about when he was young, disobeying his father, and jumping through time. He saw the apocalypse, lived through it, unable to return to his original time. He would speak of the chaos and destruction, the sense of being unmoored in a fractured world. Then he told you about the moment the Handler found him, plucked him from that desolation, and invited him to join the Commission. And that's when he met you.

And oh, how he hated you.

You were, and still are, the complete opposite of that grumpy old man. You were always precise, a stickler for the rules, never one to color outside the lines. The Handler loved you for it—your discipline, your meticulous attention to detail, your unwavering commitment to the Commission's goals. You were reliable, the perfect agent, the kind who made her job easier.

He, on the other hand, was a wildcard. Reckless and unpredictable, he saw rules as suggestions rather than absolutes. He didn't care about the consequences, not when there were bigger things at stake—things only he could see in the chaos of time. He was a man who thrived in the midst of uncertainty, a constant challenge to your carefully ordered world.

But that was part of what drew you to him, wasn’t it? That contrast. The way he lived life like he was on borrowed time, like every moment was his to seize. You hated how he would disregard protocol, how he’d show up late to missions or disappear altogether, chasing his own ghosts through the folds of history. And yet, there was something about that fearlessness that fascinated you. Something about the way he could stare into the abyss of time and laugh, as if daring it to swallow him whole.

The Handler loved assigning the two of you missions together. You were the perfect team, each of you balancing out the other's weaknesses. She liked to say you were two sides of the same coin—your precision and his improvisation, your strategy and his audacity. Together, you were unstoppable, a force to be reckoned with.

It wasn't always smooth, of course. He had a way of getting under your skin, pushing your buttons in ways no one else could. He loved to rile you up, to watch that carefully maintained calm of yours crack, just a little. He’d tease you mercilessly, call you names, question your every move. But you never let it show, not in front of the Handler. You knew she was watching, always assessing, always deciding where her next move would take her. And despite your irritation, you couldn't deny that he had a knack for getting results.

And you hated that. Hated that he could bend the rules, defy protocol, and still come out on top. But the more time you spent together, the more you began to understand him, to see the method in his madness. He wasn’t just a reckless fool; he was smart, sharp, and had an uncanny ability to read a situation and turn it to his advantage. There was a reason the Handler kept pairing the two of you up, and it wasn’t just because she enjoyed watching the sparks fly.

You had never thought Five had cared so much about you—not until that one particular mission.

It had been a long day, the kind where the hours blurred together, each minute weighed down with tension and danger. You were both exhausted, having fought your way through the tangled threads of time, dealing with threats at every turn. Endless close calls, contact after contact, each encounter more chaotic and draining than the last. You were used to this kind of work, but that day felt different. Maybe it was the weight of the mission, or maybe it was something else—a premonition, a sense that something was off.

You and Five had been tracking a target across multiple timelines, chasing down a loose end that the Commission desperately needed tied up. The mission had seemed straightforward enough at first, but complications arose as they often did, turning what should have been a simple extraction into a drawn-out battle. After hours of fighting—ducking bullets, dodging blows, and navigating through the chaotic flow of time—you were growing weary. You prided yourself on your precision, your ability to remain sharp under pressure, but even you had your limits.

You weren’t thinking straight. The fatigue was getting to you, and in a moment of distraction, you let your guard down. It was only for a second, but that was all it took. A sharp pain tore through your side, and when you looked down, you saw the knife buried deep in your abdomen. The world seemed to slow around you, a haze of shock and disbelief clouding your vision.

You staggered, clutching the wound, trying to maintain your balance, but the pain was overwhelming. You heard Five shout your name, his voice cutting through the fog of agony. There had been a strange edge to it, a raw urgency that you hadn’t heard before. You had always thought of him as the consummate professional—gruff, detached, always in control. But now, there was something different in his tone—something almost frantic.

He was at your side in an instant, his figure blurring with the speed of his movements as he dispatched the remaining threats with a brutal efficiency that was startling even to you. His face was tight with concentration, but his eyes—those sharp, calculating eyes that were usually so unreadable—were filled with something you couldn’t quite place. Fear, maybe? Or was it… concern?

“Stay with me,” he had commanded, dropping to his knees beside you. His hands moved quickly, one pressing against your wound to staunch the bleeding, the other rummaging through his coat pocket for something—bandages, maybe, or some kind of first aid. He was muttering under his breath, a stream of curses and commands, as if he could will you back to health with words alone.

You tried to speak, to tell him you were fine, but your voice came out in a weak, strangled gasp. The pain was spreading, a hot, searing sensation radiating from your abdomen and up through your chest. You could feel yourself slipping, the world around you growing dim and distant. But even through the haze, you could still hear his voice, sharp and insistent, pulling you back.

“Look at me,” he snapped, his tone leaving no room for argument. You forced your eyes open, focusing on his face—his furrowed brow, his clenched jaw, the way his lips were pressed into a thin, determined line. “You’re not dying here, got it?”

There had been a fierceness in his voice that surprised you, a kind of raw intensity that you hadn’t heard before. You’d seen him angry, sure, and you’d seen him frustrated plenty of times, but this was different. This was personal. And it was then that you realized: he wasn’t just afraid of losing a colleague. He was afraid of losing you.

“Five,” you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of your ragged breathing. You wanted to say something comforting, to let him know you’d be okay, but the words wouldn’t come. All you could do was reach out, your fingers brushing against his, a silent acknowledgment of his efforts, of his fear, of his care.

He grabbed your hand, his grip firm and unyielding, his gaze locked onto yours. “I’m not losing you,” he said again, his voice softer now but no less intense. “I’ve lost too many people already. Not you. Never you.”

For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath, the chaos around you fading into the background. It was just the two of you, caught in this strange, suspended moment, connected in a way that was deeper than words, deeper than time.

He worked quickly, efficiently, binding your wound with a piece of his own shirt, his movements precise and controlled despite the tension radiating from him. You could feel the energy building around you, the familiar sensation of time beginning to warp as he prepared to jump you both back to the Commission. His hands were steady, but there was a tremor in them that betrayed his calm façade.

“Hang on,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Just hang on a little longer.”

And then, with a blinding flash of light, the world around you shifted, the familiar pull of the time jump tugging at your very being. The pain in your side flared, a sharp spike of agony that ripped through your consciousness, but you held onto his hand, your grip tightening as you were pulled through the fabric of time.

When you opened your eyes again, you were in the Commission’s infirmary, the sterile white walls and the faint hum of machinery a stark contrast to the chaos you’d just left behind. Five was still there, his hand still holding yours, his face pale but relieved. He didn’t say anything, just sat there, his eyes never leaving your face, as if making sure you were really, truly okay.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” he muttered after a moment, his voice rough, but there was a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth. “You scared the hell out of me.” Despite the pain, you managed a small smile. “Didn’t know you cared so much,” you replied, your voice weak but teasing.

He rolled his eyes, but there was a softness in his gaze, a kind of tenderness you’d never seen before. “Yeah, well, don’t let it go to your head,” he said gruffly, but you could hear the relief in his voice, the unspoken gratitude that you were still here, still alive.

And in that moment, you knew that things had changed. You’d always been a perfect team, but now, you were something more. You had seen a side of Five you’d never seen before, a vulnerability he’d never shown anyone. And you knew, without a doubt, that he cared about you—deeply, fiercely, in a way that went far beyond mere partnership.

As you lay there, your hand still entwined with his, you felt a strange sense of peace, a quiet understanding passing between you. Whatever happened next, whatever dangers awaited in the tangled web of time, you knew one thing for certain: you wouldn’t face them alone. Not as long as Five was by your side.

Since that day, he had been inseparable from you. At first, you found it strange—his constant presence, the way he seemed to hover just a little too close, always watching, always ready. Five had never been the type to show affection, to offer comfort. He was all sharp edges and quick wit, a perpetual storm in human form. But now, there was a softness to him, a quiet protectiveness that he tried, and mostly failed, to hide. And you no longer minded. In fact, you found it endearing. You came to cherish his closeness, his silent support.

You liked the constant teasing and the bickering that filled your days, a steady rhythm of banter and back-and-forth that felt more like home than any place you had ever been. It was comforting to have someone with whom you felt so... normal, someone who could keep up with you, match your pace, challenge you in ways that no one else could. The loneliness you’d once felt in the vast corridors of the Commission faded away with him by your side, replaced by something you never thought you’d have—companionship. Friendship. Love.

Many years later, during a quiet moment in the middle of another mission, Five finally confessed that he loved you. It wasn’t a grand declaration, nothing like the romantic stories you’d heard growing up. It was simple, almost matter-of-fact, the way he said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. You had been stitching up a wound on his arm, your fingers deft and practiced, when he suddenly blurted it out.

“I love you,” he had said, his voice gruff but sincere, his eyes not meeting yours. For a moment, you thought you had misheard him. But then he looked at you, really looked at you, his expression more open and vulnerable than you’d ever seen. “I’ve loved you for a long time,” he added, softer this time, as if testing the words.

Your heart had skipped a beat, and you found yourself smiling, a real, genuine smile that you hadn’t felt in years. “I love you too,” you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper. It was the truth, the simplest and most profound truth you had ever known.

Not long after, he asked you to marry him. It was as unceremonious as his confession of love, almost awkward in its delivery. You were in the middle of cleaning your weapons, preparing for yet another jump, when he looked over at you, his brow furrowed in that familiar way of his. “We should get married,” he said, as if he was suggesting you grab a cup of coffee.

You blinked, taken aback by his suddenness, but then you laughed—a soft, genuine laugh that felt good, felt right. “Yes,” you said, without hesitation. “Of course, yes.” There wasn’t a doubt in your mind. The life you’d built together, the bond you shared—it was more than enough.

The two of you quietly eloped, keeping your marriage a secret from the Commission. It wasn’t their business, after all. They didn’t need to know about the life you were building together, the small moments of happiness you stole between missions, the way you found comfort in each other’s presence amid the chaos of time. You had your little secrets, your private world carved out of the madness, and you intended to keep it that way.

And when Five decided he needed to go back to his family, “The Umbrella Academy,” you didn’t hesitate. You went right along with him, standing by his side as you always had. You knew how much he had sacrificed, how much he still carried with him—the weight of his past, the ghosts of his mistakes. But you also knew that he had found a new purpose, a reason to keep fighting, to keep moving forward. And wherever he went, you would follow.

And with that, you find yourself back into the present. You’re pacing around the room. Every minute feels like an hour, and every second that ticks by without a word from Five or Lila makes your heart pound harder in your chest. The silence is broken only by the occasional murmur of conversation or the soft shuffling of footsteps.

Then, suddenly, the air around you seems to shift. A low hum fills the room, and the familiar tingling sensation of a temporal disturbance ripples through you. Everyone turns toward the source, eyes wide with a mix of hope and apprehension.

A flash of blue light erupts in the center of the room, and for a moment, it’s blinding. You shield your eyes, your heart leaping into your throat. When the light fades, you blink, trying to clear your vision, and then you see them—Five and Lila—standing there, slightly disheveled but very much alive.

The two of them share small, strained smiles, a strange new tension between them that wasn't there before. Diego rushes at Lila, hugging her tightly, his strong arms pulling her close. "I thought I'd lost you," he whispers, his voice breaking, betraying the tough exterior he usually maintains. Lila laughs softly, but it sounds different—almost forced—as she returns the embrace, her eyes darting briefly to Five.

Five stands apart, his expression carefully neutral, he struggles to make eye contact with anyone — especially you. He scans the room as if searching for a distraction, his posture stiff, his hands clenched at his sides. "Good to see you're all still in one piece," he mutters, his tone flat. When his gaze accidentally meets Lila's, he quickly looks away, as if the sight of her is too much to bear.

You smile at Five, offering a small nod. You both aren’t much for public attention, and you hoped a subtle acknowledgment would be enough to connect, to let him know you’re there. But Five never meets your eyes. His gaze is distant, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. Your smile fades, replaced by a furrowed brow. What’s your deal, Five?

You feel a knot of worry tighten in your stomach. Something is off with Five, more than usual. You’ve known him long enough to recognize when he’s hiding something, but this is different. It’s like he’s shut down entirely, locking everyone out—including you.

The others, caught up in their own reunions, don’t seem to notice the tension radiating from Five and Lila. Diego pulls back from Lila, holding her at arm’s length to look her over. “What happened to you two?” he asks, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the subtle changes in their appearances—the slightly haunted look in their eyes, the way they seem older somehow. “You’ve only been gone for like 4 hours”

Lila’s smile is tight, almost brittle. “Feels like a lifetime,” she says with a small, hollow laugh that doesn't reach her eyes. Her gaze drifts back to Five, and for a moment, there's something almost like longing—or maybe regret.

Five flinches at her words, just barely, but enough that you notice. He looks down, his jaw clenching. “Doesn’t matter,” he says quickly, cutting off any further questions. “We’re back now. That’s all that matters.” But his voice wavers slightly, betraying a crack in his composure.

You step forward, unable to keep the concern from your voice. “Five…what happened?” you ask softly, hoping to reach him, to break through whatever wall he’s put up.

He finally looks at you, but there’s a hardness in his eyes that makes your heart sink. “Drop it,” he snaps, a sharp edge to his tone that makes everyone else in the room go quiet. The silence that follows is heavy and uncomfortable, the unspoken tension between him and Lila now impossible to ignore.

Lila clears her throat, shifting uncomfortably. “Yeah, maybe we should all just… take a breather,” she suggests, trying to lighten the mood, but there’s a nervousness in her voice that makes it clear she’s not as relaxed as she’s pretending to be. She glances at Five again, and you see it now—how her eyes linger on him just a moment too long, and how his jaw tightens in response, his expression guarded.

Diego, picking up on the strange atmosphere but not fully understanding it, frowns. “Did something happen between you two?” he presses, his eyes narrowing as he looks between Five and Lila. His gaze drops to Lila’s wrist, and his eyes widen slightly. “You hate wearing bracelets,” he points out, suspicion creeping into his voice.

Lila instinctively pulls her wrist closer to her side, but not before Diego catches sight of the handmade leather bracelet. “No, I like them,,” she says but her voice lacks conviction. Diego shakes his head, his frown deepening. “Yeah, you do. You traded the one I gave you for a vacuum, remember?” His voice is heavy with accusation, his eyes now fixed on the bracelet. “Where’d you get that one?”

Diego’s eyes narrow even more, his gaze shifting to Five. "Did you make that?" he asks, his voice low and dangerous, cutting through the tension in the room like a knife. The question hangs heavy in the air, charged with accusation and disbelief.

Five’s expression hardens, his eyes narrowing as he glances at Lila, then back at Diego. His jaw is set, his posture rigid. “I sure as hell didn’t make that bracelet for you,” he replies coldly, his voice slicing through the silence like a blade. There’s a finality in his tone, a hint of something unresolved but unapologetic.

Your breath catches in your chest, a painful tightness forming there. He made it… For her…? The thought is like a dagger, twisting in your gut. You blink, trying to process the revelation, the reality of it sinking in like a stone. A handmade bracelet—something so personal, so intimate.

You glance at Five, but he’s not looking at you. His gaze remains locked on Diego, unwavering, as if bracing for whatever comes next. A storm of emotions swirls inside you—betrayal, hurt, confusion. The room seems to close in around you, the walls pressing in, the air thick and suffocating.

Diego’s gaze shifts from Lila to Five, and you can see the pieces slowly clicking into place for him. His face hardens with a mix of realization and fury. “Did you screw my wife?” he demands, his voice a low, dangerous growl. The words explode into the room like a bomb, the air suddenly charged with tension.

Five’s eyes remain steady on Diego, his face an unreadable mask. He opens his mouth to speak, to say something—anything—but Diego’s not interested in hearing it. His fists are clenched at his sides, his entire body radiating a barely restrained fury.

“You did, didn’t you?” Diego’s voice rises, each word heavy with the weight of betrayal. "All this time, and you—you were cheating on me?” His accusation shifts to Lila, his eyes burning with hurt and anger.

Lila quickly steps between them, placing a hand on each of their chests as if trying to physically push them apart. “Guys, let’s not do this right now,” she urges, her voice firm but laced with a hint of desperation. “This isn’t the time or place.”

You stand frozen, disbelief washing over you. Your mind reels at the weight of Diego’s words. Cheating? The idea feels like a punch to the gut. You’ve spent countless years with Five, fought battles by his side, faced the end of the world more than once. And he gives it all up—for what? For his brother’s wife, over the course of seven years in another timeline?

Your breath catches, a sharp pain blooming in your chest. You try to swallow it down, but it’s too much, too fast. The reality of what you’re hearing—of what Five has done—feels like a betrayal deeper than anything you’ve faced together. The walls seem to close in around you, the weight of the revelation pressing down on your shoulders, threatening to crush you.

You look at Five, searching his face for some sign of denial, of regret—anything that might soften the blow of this new reality. But he’s still staring at Diego, his expression unyielding, almost defiant. His jaw is set, his eyes cold and distant. There’s no apology there, no remorse—just a cold, hard acceptance of what’s been done, of what can’t be undone. The sight of his indifference twists the knife deeper into your heart.

You feel your chest tighten, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Your hands are trembling, fingers curling into fists at your sides as you fight to keep yourself together. You want to scream, to cry, to lash out and demand answers. But you know it won’t change anything. The damage is done, and the betrayal runs too deep. You feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. Not here. Not now. Not in front of them. Not in front of him.

You shake your head, unable to look at Five any longer. The pain is too raw, too intense, and being in the same room with him feels unbearable. You can’t handle this—not now, not like this. The walls are closing in, the air thick and suffocating. Your heart is pounding in your chest, each beat a painful reminder of what’s been shattered between you.

Without another word, you turn on your heel and leave the room, your steps quick and unsteady. You feel the eyes of the others on you as you push past them, but you don’t care. You can’t stay here—not in this room, not with them. Not with him. The hallway stretches out before you like a lifeline, and you move toward it, your movements frantic and desperate, as if putting distance between you and Five might somehow ease the ache in your chest.

You stumble into the hallway, your vision blurred by unshed tears. You don’t know where you’re going—only that you need to get away. Away from the pain, away from the betrayal, away from the suffocating weight of it all. Your feet carry you down the corridor, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you fight to hold back the sobs threatening to break free.

You finally reach an empty room, but as you reach for the door, you realize with a jolt that it's the one you and Five share. The one where you slept beside him last night, completely unaware of the storm that was about to hit. The memories of your shared moments—whispered conversations, late-night confessions, stolen kisses—flood back, now tainted with a sense of betrayal and loss. You hesitate, your hand hovering over the doorknob, but then you push it open and slip inside, closing it behind you.

The moment the door clicks shut, you collapse against it, your legs giving out beneath you. You sink to the floor, your back pressed against the wood, and the tears finally come. Hot, angry tears spill down your cheeks, and a broken sob escapes your lips. The room is quiet, painfully so, and the sound of your cries seems to fill every corner, bouncing off the walls and echoing back to you.

You wrap your arms around yourself, as if trying to hold the pieces of yourself together, but it’s no use. The dam has broken, and the flood of emotion is too strong to contain. You bury your face in your hands, your shoulders shaking with the force of your sobs. You cry for the loss of trust, for the betrayal, for the love you thought was unbreakable. You cry for everything you’ve lost and everything you can never get back.

The bed looms in the corner of your vision, a cruel reminder of the intimacy you once shared with Five. It’s still unmade from this morning, the sheets tangled from where you both slept. You remember the warmth of his body beside you, the way his hand would always find yours in the dark. The way he would hold you when you were scared, whispering promises of forever. Promises that now feel like lies.

You lift your head, your eyes red and swollen from crying. You look around the room, and all you can see are the remnants of a life that no longer feels like yours. The books on the nightstand that you read together, the photos on the wall of happier times—all of it feels like a cruel joke, mocking the trust you placed in him. The room, once a sanctuary, now feels like a prison, filled with ghosts of a past that will never return.

As the tears flow, you realize something with a cold, hard clarity that cuts through the haze of your grief—nothing will ever be the same again. Not between you and Five, not between any of you. The damage is done, and there’s no going back. You feel a hollowness settle in your chest, a void where your love for him once lived. You wonder if you’ll ever feel whole again, or if this betrayal has shattered you beyond repair.

It’s been a few days since the cheaters blinked back to your timeline. Each day has dragged on, an endless cycle of numbness and pain. The initial wave of tears has subsided, replaced by a slow-burning anger that simmers just below the surface. How could he? How could she? The questions run through your mind on a loop, feeding the fire that burns inside you.

You try to go about your daily routine, but everything feels off, wrong. The house feels different—colder, emptier. The others tiptoe around you, unsure of what to say, how to act. They’ve seen the hurt in your eyes, the way you flinch whenever Five enters the room. They’ve heard the way your voice trembles when you speak, how your words are laced with a bitterness you can’t seem to shake.

And then there’s Five. He moves around the house like a ghost, his presence a constant reminder of the betrayal. He tries to talk to you, but you can’t bear to look at him, let alone hear what he has to say. His words mean nothing now; they’re empty, hollow, like the promises he once made. You’ve built walls around yourself, high and impenetrable, to keep him out—to protect what little remains of your heart.

Your anger grows each day, festering like an open wound. It fuels you, giving you strength when the pain becomes too much to bear. It’s the only thing that keeps you going, that stops you from collapsing under the weight of it all. You cling to it, because without it, all you’re left with is the emptiness, the loss, the heartbreak.

We have been married for years, you think bitterly, and yet we never even once slept together, let alone him see me naked. How in the hell could he have fucked Lila over the span of seven years? The thought is a searing ache, cutting through the numbness that has settled over you. He always said we were too busy for such nonsense.

The double standard gnaws at you, a relentless, cruel irony. All those times he claimed there was no time for intimacy, no room for such personal moments because of their dangerous, high-stakes missions. And now you have to grapple with the fact that he found time for Lila—time to build a relationship, to share moments that were supposed to be sacred between the two of you. It feels like a betrayal of not just your love but the very essence of your marriage.

You remember the conversations where he would dismiss your need for closeness, brushing it aside with promises of better times to come. “We’re too busy,” he’d said, “We have a world to save.” Yet here was the proof that when it came to Lila, the rules were different. The lies, the excuses, all of it crashes down on you, leaving you gasping for breath.

The anger is raw, a jagged edge that you can’t seem to smooth over. It’s not just about what Five did; it’s about the betrayal of trust, the violation of promises made. The fact that he could share himself so completely with someone else, while withholding even the smallest gestures of intimacy from you, cuts deeper than any physical wound could.

You pace the empty room, the anger simmering, demanding an outlet. It’s a fire that consumes everything in its path, burning through your hope, your trust, your love. And it leaves behind a desolate landscape, a place where you’re forced to confront the stark reality of what’s been done.

How could he justify this? you wonder. How could he reconcile the intimacy he shared with Lila while claiming there was no time for us?

[hatsukeii]

boxers / timeskip!miya atsumu x reader

genre(s) - slice of life??? friends with endless romantic/sexual tension between them, mutually oblivious pining up until the end, atsumu being a little BITCH :/, reader is so hot btw im saying it now you guys are so hot, hotter than the little BITCH atsumu (ngl i do fw his ass tho...)

warning(s) - suggestive but not nsfw!! atsumu being FUCKING ANNOYING, tiger balm if you get it you get it, and like crude humour which is just my branding atp sooo

wc: 1039

tldr; if you're going to make atsumu fulfil your fashion dreams, you should at least look good, which shouldn't be a problem if the only person judging is atsumu himself.

author's note 1: a man who yearns is a man who earns ;) and sometimes a girl just wants to write yearning men to escape from finals so

"'Tsumu, how does it look?"

You reveal your completely renewed, upgraded, rejuvenated outfit, with Atsumu's boxers peeking through the top of your jeans loosely. Perfect, down to the minute details. Once again, you had graced Atsumu's apartment in the middle of the night, for some redundant reason. Last time, it was to take his carton of eggs. This time, it was to borrow a pair of his boxers, of all things.

"It looks cool. Are we done now?" It looks better than cool, much more than cool encompasses. His favourite pair of boxers (definitely a coincidence) sits lopsided across your waist, your jeans holding them in place. The tie sits around your neck, trailing down your torso atop the half-buttoned, collared shirt. You look much better than cool. You look hot, and that is a problem. So much of a problem that Atsumu is resisting the urge to run up and press both hands against your waist, even tug at the waistband of his boxers. You know, just to adjust them. Like best friends do.

You shake your head boldly, contemplating whether you should drop the idea. But alas, you've come this far, even managing to secure a pair of his boxers. It's all or nothing for your fashion discovery now. You stare back at Atsumu, eyeing him up and down as your heart pounds and you consider your next words very carefully. A confused look greets his face, the same one he's made ever since he was in high school. The look that he makes at you when you offer to visit him and rub tiger balm into his shoulders in the middle of the night, or agree to go to all his volleyball games every single time, no matter the day.

"Can you kiss the collar?"

And that just about does it for Atsumu's fragile constraint. His face flushes instantaneously, a hand shooting up to rub across his mouth, before travelling behind his neck to massage it. You wait for a response, your clasped hands becoming clammier with every stagnant second that passes. A stick of red lip stain sits in your back pocket, all you need now is his green light. The air of his living room becomes a pool of slick oil, impossibly heavy, suffocating.

"Yeah, sure."

Your mind blanks. He was not supposed to say yes. You wanted him to, yes, that did not mean that he should have. However, it is too late to regret your proposition now, as you pull the lip stain from your back pocket and approach him on the couch. He winces at the colour, and your hand reaches to cradle his face, angling it just enough to apply the red all over his lips.

"So glamorous, Atsumu, you should be thanking me."

"Shut up, annoying," you manage to scarcely make out from his attempt to speak without moving his lips. He means that out of love, considering he used to call you annoying for actually showing up to his house to massage his shoulders after each match, nagging at you to get rest and leave his soreness be. All out of love between best friends, you're sure of it.

You let go, giving him free reign of your shirt. He looks up at you, pointing at the pointed collar, and you nod in approval. Risque, exactly what you intend to emulate. Shaking, he grabs ahold of your shirt, pressing a firm kiss into the fabric. You smell of the perfume he bought you in celebration of MSBY's first win. Oakwood, orange peel, vanilla. Of course, it was just returning your favour of offering to visit him in the middle of the night, and massage tiger balm into his shoulder blades for two hours.

He pulls away, taking a look at the shirt. Judging by your peculiar choices of a tie, boxers, and a half-buttoned shirt, this is far from risque enough for your liking. He tugs at your top again, peppering kisses across the hem, and you swear you are ready to drop dead right then and there. Not that he's never kissed you before, eight years of friendship does lead to his occasional kisses on your cheek at parties when the two of you would end up drunk off shitty mixers, or your affectionate kisses at the top of his head after match losses as he sits against changing room lockers. All a part of being best friends with Atsumu Miya. Yet as he continues his assault on your shirt, hands grabbing at the fabric tightly and hair tickling the skin of your neck, for the briefest of moments, you wish that he would bring the kisses up instead of across. Fleeting thoughts, pay no mind.

He stops, looking up at you. The lipstick is smudged across one side of his cheek now, and it takes everything in you not to grab his face, and kiss it off of him. His eyes flicker from your face, to your collar.

"Is this enough?" More than enough. You grab his face anyways, rubbing your thumb across the right side of his cheek with a click of your tongue. What a pity that your lipstick isn't ending up on you instead.

"You know, you look really good right now." You babble out before you can catch yourself, and Atsumu's eyes return to your face, boring holes into your eyes. You release his face, a knot forming in your throat as you register your sudden confession. Atsumu breathes out a chuckle, glancing and tugging at your collar.

"I did a pretty good job too, it's a shame I want it off."

He returns to your face, colour matching his red boxers, and your maroon tie, and finally fulfils your wishes as he brings his kisses upwards to your mouth. The remaining lipstick smudges around your lips as you hold his face, body positioned between his legs and your knee pressing onto the sofa. His arms fall back to prop his body up on the couch, surrending all control to your will. You pull away from him, and he almost sulks at the separation. God, he looks so fucking pathetic, staring up at you as if you're the subject of his waking dreams. He should definitely keep this going.

"Stay over tonight? Please?" He mumbles, nestling his face into your palm the way a cat does to its owner.

"Yeah...yeah, I'd like that."

author's note 2:

head empty, no thoughts, just mike faist in challengers, kissed collar shirts, and yearning men. Sometimes a girl just needs to listen to some 5sos and write about looking pretty in someone's boxers and lipstick stains :) Last happy fic I'll write for now, we're going back to giant bittersweet fics next time, might need to try some other characters from diff animes though...

also! this is a total change of style in how i usually write, i wasn't feeling particularly inspired, just wanted to rot and write to kill time, hopefully it's not too bad because it's definitely not my best work imo mmmmm :/

anyways tags!!

@starlysama @chuuya-brainrot @bailey-reeds @fiannee

ok im gonna go now love u bye bye kids

[morbidlcve]

loml.

pairings: natasha x reader

cw: mentions of death, mental health, red room.. i think that's it?

word count: 3.9k!

(based off the song loml by taylor swift)

summary: Yours and Natasha’s life all the way up to endgame

The first time you two met, you knew that she was the one for you. Her rare smile had the power to light up the room. You were another Hill, coming to drop Maria’s keys off for her after borrowing her car to move some furniture into your new apartment on 6th Street. You had been arguing with the guard outside the building, who wasn’t entirely convinced you were related to the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. 

“Hey, Maria needs her keys; she needs to go run some errands for Fury”, you heard a voice call to you, opening the door. Her red hair was the first thing you noticed about her, and it quickly became your favourite thing about her: the styles in which she wears it, the softness of the strands and the freedom it shows she has. “Thank you”, you mutter to her, entering the building and leaving a gagged guard at the doorway.

Who’s gonna stop us from waltzing back into rekindled flames?

If we know the steps anyway.  

“I’m Natasha,” she tells you, pressing the elevator button to take you up to your sister. “ Y/N,” you say, smiling softly. You were taken instantly; you wanted to know more; you needed to know more. The universe seemed to be on your side that day because Natasha soon asked you for coffee, to which you stuttered an embarrassing confirmation, which made her smile fondly. 

A month later, after little dates and nights together at your apartment, you were invited to the tower to watch a film with Natasha and have dinner with her family. Things went well; you instantly connected with the thunder god. He was silly and made you laugh, but he also seemed more than just the fun guy everyone seemed to know. Everyone was taken by you and asked you questions about your work, where you were from and what your childhood was like; you answered them all. 

Natasha watched you interact with the people she called family, and she swore to love you forever from then on. 

We embroidered the memories of the time I was away, stitching, “We were just kids, babe.”

I said, “I don’t mind, it takes time.”

A few years had passed, and they were the best years of your life; sure, there were ups and downs, but that was the beauty of it; you could recognise the good bits all the more. Natasha gave you a run for your money, scaring you to death every time she would come home with a new injury, but you would tend to her, and she would let all the details slip, the things that keep her awake at night, the failures, the successes, everything. It took time to bring 

Natasha out of her shell to talk to you about these topics, and when she did, she didn’t even feel fear in telling you; knowing you like she did, you would just accept her for who she is and tell her that was who she was and she didn’t know anything else. You kissed away her insecurities when they crept up on her in the middle of the night, without fail, you held her when she returned home from a rough mission, handling her with so much care that felt so foreign to her. 

I thought I was better safe than starry-eyed,

I felt aglow, like this, 

never before and never since.

Natasha was the sweetest soul you had ever encountered. She always weighed her words in her head before saying them aloud, always knew if something was the matter, and didn’t push you to talk about it. 

She would wait, do whatever you needed or wanted, and wait for you to make your problem hers, too. She would hold you so close as you did, kissing your tears away, reassuring you with every fibre of her being. She was so gentle, and it made you wonder what kind of a person does it make her to become more than she was ever meant to be. How much strength she truly has. 

If you know it in one glimpse, it's legendary. 

You and I go from one kiss to getting married.

It took three years of loving Natasha to finally promise yourself to her forever. There were tears and so much love that day you could recall it like the back of your hand. You couldn't remember your life without Natasha; she had very quickly become the centre of your universe. 

Each day you woke up beside her, you found yourself thanking the universe for allowing you to live to see another day, another day you get to share your love, issues, and tears with her. 

Still alive, killing time at the cemetery

Never quite buried.  

In your suit and tie, in the nick of time. 

You lowdown boy, you stand-up guy.

Then Natasha’s world came crashing down; the Avengers were fighting, she had to run away, you being left at home, countless sleepless nights, frightened for her life and what she was doing, if she was hurt, or worse? 

You often heard from her, whether that was a brief message or a Facetime call when she settled down in her trailer rewatching her favourite films. Those moments, you felt at some ease, but being unable to physically touch her hurt more than you could ever have thought it could. She was telling you that Yelena was alive, and she had got out, and you started crying, which made her cry; you heard all about her and the time she spent with her in Ohio, and you were glad she finally broke away from that god-forsaken place.

Initially, Natasha blamed herself for leaving her there when she broke away for the first time; then, she could quite bring herself to find her after killing Dreykov and his daughter to portray her loyalty to S.H.E.I.L.D.

You holy ghost, you told me i’m the love of your life,

About a million times.

A few weeks later, she found out he was alive. You have never heard her sound so heartbroken, her heavy gasps for breath, the sure constant fall of tears she let herself shed for all the girls that had to continue through the cycle. You were rendered speechless, listening to her tell you about everything that was going on, silent tears streaming down your face at her situation. She didn’t want your sympathy; you knew that- she was telling you so you knew what you would be greeted with when she got home. 

You listened, taking it all in, trying your best to be the weight she could lean on, but you were crumbling, too. You couldn’t even fathom what she felt at that moment. She told you she loved you and that she would be home soon. 

Five weeks later, Natasha came home. She worked it out with her family, like you knew she would, and even managed to help most of the Avengers regroup. You met Yelena for the first time, and you immediately liked her. She was so similar yet so different from her sister. You offered to take her shopping one day to get to know each other more. 

Having Natasha back home made sure you were never going to let her go away for that long again. Sure, she went on missions, but both Fury and Natasha would keep you posted, and it was never just one person, there were two or three at once. The time she was gone, she was alone, and that meant that all those thoughts that usually plagued her would’ve got the upper head and she’s too selfless to ring you in the middle of the night telling you about it, not wanting to worry her further, knowing how much you were suffering, not sleeping, waves of nausea from homesickness.

Who's gonna tell me the truth

When you blew in with the winds of fate

And told me I reformed you

When your impressionist paintings of Heaven

Turned out to be fakes

Well, you took me to hell, too 

A few months passed, and Natasha, you, and Yelena became like your own little family. Fury had asked Yelena to train some recruits, which earned her decent pay. She got her own apartment and decorated it with what she wanted, which she dragged you and Natasha out for. 

You and Natasha would stay up late at night talking about everything, often messaging her parents asking how they were doing. They wanted to come and visit you, given how much Natasha talks about you to them, and see how Yelena was getting on with her life. 

The nightmares became a frequent occurrence again for Natasha, and you were there just like you were at the start, pulling her into you or going for a drive, sitting on the balcony, or doing anything she wanted. You were there to see to it. 

Things went relatively back to normal, and you were finally happy again. 

And all at once, the ink bleeds

A con man sells a fool a get-love-quick scheme

That was until the Avengers came calling for another mission. Your blood ran cold. How much more could she take? You wondered, looking over to your wife to find her already looking at you. You knew she needed this; after the previous events of her life, she needed to go and help. She knew you wouldn’t stop her per se, but she could see it pains you to let her go… again. 

But I felt a hole like this

Never before, and ever since

They said they were leaving in 2 hours for Edinburgh, giving you guys some time (but not enough) to say goodbye. You were silent as Natasha packed her bag, put her gear together, put on Yelena’s vest, and chose her weapons and batons hidden in the wall of your bedroom. Natasha didn’t like this any more than you did, leaving you again. She knows how you got when she went away, only this time she didn’t know how long she would be gone. “y’/n” Natasha sighed, wrapping you in her arms. “I’ll come home, I always do.” She laid a soft kiss on your head. “I love you”, you sigh, hugging her back. “I love you most”, she returns. She always did this, it was your thing. From the first time, those words left your lips, she reiterated the reply right back. It was pointless arguing. 

If you know it in one glimpse

It's legendary

What we thought was for all time

Was momentary

The house became empty once again. No Natasha, no random kisses on your head, no unexpected cups of coffee being disposed of in your hands, no incessant typing from her computer of her writing up reports or doing her work from home. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, so you took a shower to bask in the scent of her shampoo and body wash, dressed in her clothes and sat on the couch with a glass of wine and a book. 

You didn’t know what to think. Was she safe? Is she hurt? Your mind was reeling. You must’ve fallen asleep on the couch because when you woke, it was daylight, and you heard Natasha’s sniffles as she walked through the door. You shot up from the couch and the second her eyes met yours her face flooded with relief and she fell to the ground. You didnt know wha had happened so you met her at the floor whilst she wept into your arms. 

Still alive, killing time at the cemetery

Never quite buried

You were heaving by the time Natasha explained everything to you, both of you rushing through your phones to call your family, but there was no answer from any of Natasha’s family. Maria didn’t answer either, nor did your parents. Everyone you loved other than the woman right in front of you was gone. You don’t know how long you and Nat were there on the floor crying; your whole body felt numb, and none of you or the Avengers knew if they were alive or not. 

You cinephile in black and white

All those plot twists and dynamite

Months had passed, and no one had found any type of solution to half of the universe’s population being missing. Natasha was clearly spiralling, and so were you. You and Natasha threw yourselves into working to find a solution, and every time you came up blank or with an error, Nat made a committee with the rest of the survivor Avengers to see if they could come up with something. Each time, there was more and more disappointment. 

Mr. Steal Your Girl, then make her cry

Natasha resorted to dancing, dancing of all things. You always heard classical music while showering or cooking. It made you sad to the bone to know you couldn’t help her. You could be there for her, but you couldn’t help her. You could feel Natasha slipping away. No matter what you tried, she just didn’t feel the same anymore. 

You said I'm the love of your life

“Nat?” you whisper to her in the darkness of her Compound bedroom. You feel her moving, turning to face you. “Yes, my love?” she says, coming to hold your hand. “You’re not here anymore,” you smile sadly, looking down at your hands entwined.

“In times like this, we need… we need to stay together. I don’t want us to lose each other through the loss of everyone else,” you try to say composedly but start to cry at the end. Natasha sighs, pulling you into her. “I know, my love. I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better by you. I’ve been distant, I know, but you’re not any less important to me.” She mutters, kissing your head.

Natasha just held you as you cried into her shoulder, shaking in her embrace, her tears silently falling against your hair. “Please don’t push me away. I need you”, you sob into her, holding her close. Her heart clenches at the vulnerability in your voice. “I’m not going anywhere. I have loved you for ten whole years. I’ve never stopped loving you, and I don’t intend to stop now. Besides, Maria would kick my ass if I ever let anything happen to you,” she says softly, making you laugh airily. 

You talked me under the table

Talking rings and talking cradles

I wish I could un-recall

How we almost had it all

Natasha stuck by her word. She pulled herself back into your orbit. Your words helped her realise that there was nothing that could be done to bring back the others, but she did have you and that she needed to cherish. Reality speaking, she wouldn’t like to even think what state she would be in if you hadn’t made it. The mere thought sends her blood running cold, and she would come and find you to wrap her arms around you, reminding herself that you are, in fact, with her and that you didn’t disappear. 

You and Natasha, alone, except for the occasional drop-in at the compound from one of her avenger friends, set up a nice routine at the place. You two would work out in the morning, then eat dinner together and then spend some alone time together to reconvene for dinner and bedtime in the evening. Not much happened in the compound for the years you were together. Tony was with Pepper and Morgan, Steve was out doing AA meetings, and Clint was AWOL after losing Laura and the kids. 

Dancing phantoms on the terrace

Are they second-hand embarrassed

That I can't get out of bed?

Cause something counterfeit's dead

You Steve and Nat were sat at the table trying to console a breaking Natasha over Clints activities, when a chime rings through the computer systems, you scuttle over to check it to see a guy waving frantically at the camera. “This an old message?” steve says, leaning forward. “It’s the front gate,” says Natasha, looking shocked.  

You sat watching Nat and the two men talk about pym particles and time travel. All of it goes in one ear and out the other for you, yet you can’t help but notice the way Natasha’s posture straightens, and a glimmer of hope seems to shine in her eyes. 

It was legendary

You, Nat, Steve and Scott get out of the car at Tony’s secluded cabin. He said no, you head back. You all tried talking to Bruce, and that was a maybe. You’ve never seen Natasha this hopeful since she went on that mission to help Tony and Steve see where each other was coming from with the accords.

It was momentary

You wake up in the middle of the night to Tony yelling over the phone about how he’s done it and how he will be at the compound the following day.  

It was unnecessary

Everyone was getting geared up. You were softly braiding Natasha’s hair. “Hey, you be careful out there, okay?” you smiled at her in the mirror as she watched you weave her hair into a delicate braid. “Don’t worry, I got this”, she smiles at you, wrapping the hair tie around the end of her hair. Turning around, she smiles at you, pulling you in for a kiss. “I love you, Natalia” You smile against her lips, brushing your nose against hers. “I love you the most, y/n”, she returned, kissing you again. “Come home safe,” you say into her chest, from where she pulled you into a hug. “When do I not?” She says, and you laugh. 

You watch her and the rest of the Avengers stand up onto the time plate and she catches your eye, winking at you before she smiles and says, “See you in a minute.” 

Should've let it stay buried

…

Oh, what a valiant roar

What a bland goodbye

Seconds feel like hours as you wait for them to return. You twiddled your fingers, waiting, waiting and waiting. You’ve spent longer than a minute without nat (clearly), but this one feels like so much more, something feels not right. A rip startles you from your thoughts, and you see Clint on his knees, his eyes wet. No… no, no, no, no, no, no, no. 

Everybody else returns. You don’t notice them, though, as Clint looks directly at you, saying so much more than words. “Cint, where’s Nat?” 

The coward claimed he was a lion

I'm combing through the braids of lies

Everybody turns to look at you. You’re frozen in place, and your chest feels too tight and heavy. Clint walks down to you. “ Y/N,” he says, opening his arms out for you. You collapse. Your whole world gone in a matter of a minute. You don’t know if you’re screaming or crying. Both? Clint cries with you. 

​​"I'll never leave" ...

“She sacrificed herself for you, your sister, her sister laura, everyone”, He cries into you. You’re heaving, your body feeling like it’s being torn in two. The weight of it all unbearable. Everyone quickly left the room to give you and Clint some space, grief settling heavy on them, too. 

"Never mind"

A week had passed since the war, the battle, losing Tony and Nat, and having to tell Yelena and her parents was the hardest thing you ever had to do. Yelena walked out, Alexei punched the walls, and Melina hugged your tear-streamed face, silently shaking. The one good thing the world had ever given to you, and it snatched her right back off of you. 

Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire

“I was thinking if this all goes well, we should get a cat," she says to you, putting on her time suit. 

“A cat?” you ask her, smiling up at her. She’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. “Yeah, you’d be a great cat mom”, she beams at you.

Your arson's match your somber eyes

Maria’s name buzzes on your phone, and you’re quick to turn it off. As much as you love her, you don’t want a pity party, you just want to be left alone. You just now realise that you were home after hours of walking around, your heart crumbling with every tribute poster and art you see decorating walls and windows. You fumble with your keys to get it open. You’re met with two pairs of shoes at the door, yours and Natasha’s, her hair ties on the table next to the door, and one of her artillery belts. Her jacket hung up on the coat rack. She’s everywhere, yet she’s nowhere at all. A small black cat slides up against your leg and you lift her up nuzzling your nose into her head, making her pur and snuggle into you, seemingly sensing your emotional state. 

And I'll still see it until I die

Entering the bedroom seems like an impossible task, knowing you’ll see more of her belongings. You sit on the couch and stare. Then you see a piece of paper on the coffee table you recognise. Picking it up, a dry sob leaves your throat. 

“I love you more, my love, and I always will,” it reads in her perfect handwriting. You can’t stop crying- your lungs feel so full yet so empty, and your head prickles with all the nerves trying to make sense of what is happening. 

You storm into your bedroom into the shower and rid yourself of this heavy, dirty feeling. You scrub and scrub and scrub until your skin is red and raw, and only then do you get out. You dry yourself off, wandering into the closet and pulling on her hoodie, then her sweats, and then you collapse into bed, breathing in her all too familiar scent. The smell wraps around you like her arms would when you were going through a rough patch. Now, the patch is rougher than ever, and she's no longer here.

You turn your phone back on and press call, “Hi there, Natasha here! I’m sorry I can’t take your call right now, I’ll be sure to get back to you,” you call her again and again until you fall asleep listening to the sound of her voice, and the warm fur ball curled up on your chest.

You're the loss of my life.

first time writing angst, PLEASE give me feedback. i beg

[pearlfeline]

rookie

peter parker x fem!reader

word count: 900+

tw: black eye

a/n: this is short and it was in my drafts forever. and it was shorter than this before i added some stuff last night. posting it now for some validation and i want to feel better for my job interview tomorrow lol. hope its good enough.

“plwase unlokc your window!! OMW”

“I told him not to text and swing.” You mumbled to yourself.

You huffed, making your way to the window to save him the trouble and just lifted it wide open.

Peter flops in immediately, earning a yelp from you.

“Are you crazy?!” You held your hand to your chest.

“Heeeeelp.” He groans. Peter tugs at his mask, rolling his head back for you to see.

He had a black eye. “Make sure when you fall, you don’t land face first into a fire hydrant.” He tries his best to pry his swollen eye open.

“Since when do you fall?” You shake your head. Not expecting an answer, you walk off to the kitchen and open the freezer, grabbing a bag of assorted frozen fruit.

You come back to Peter flipping through channels on your TV, slumped on the bed.

“Put this on your eye.”

Peter gingerly takes the bag, holding it up to his bruise.

”Why are you getting hurt in the middle of the night?”

“Avengers make mistakes too.” He grumbled.

“Peter. It’s late.” You sighed.

“I know I know but I needed your help specifically.” He sits up mirroring the posture of someone who would hold a corporate meeting.

“Do my makeup please.”

You stare at Peter expressionless.

“Like with the skin paint thing.” He adds.

“For your black eye?”

“PLEEEAAASE! I can’t have May see me with another black eye. She said if the kids keep picking on me she’s gonna call the school.”

You roll your eyes, motioning him to follow you to your makeup drawer.

“Concealer.” You handed him the small bottle and heard him repeat after you.

“Concealer.” He nods.

“How long will this last?” He twists it open.

“Stop, you’re gonna dry it out. And not forever. So I’ll let you borrow it to reapply in the morning.”

“How do I do that?” He starts blinking rapidly the same time your finger pats into his under eye.

“No blinking! Just do what I’m doing here. See? You don’t even need a sponge sometimes.”

You try to ignore how close you were to him. Seeing Peter from this proximity was something you’d never think to do. You never noticed how many little freckles he had. They’re so faint. He had a little stubble from running around all day and chapped lips. Your eyes follow the line of his bottom lip, like a crack in the pavement. You could feel his breathing hit your hand as you pat into his skin. As you look up from his lips, you find him staring at you back.

“Done.” You reeled your hand back, clearing your throat.

Peter looks at himself through your small light up mirror. Seems simple enough.

“See? Good as new. Just a little swollen.” You comb his curl away from his forehead so he could clearly see the coverage.

“You’re the best.” He stares at his reflection in awe.

“I know.” You shrugged.

“Don’t touch it or it’ll come off.” You grab a small pouch to put the concealer in.

“Here. Don’t lose it. I splurged for this one.” You hand him the pouch and he nods profusely.

“Guarding it with my life.” He puts it in the small pocket of his backpack.

“Thank you.” He smiles.

“No problem.” You avoided his eyes, hopefully he didn’t see the heat rising to your cheeks. “Don’t keep May waiting.”

Peter nods, giving an awkward wave. “Right. See ya.”

Peter jumps out onto the fire escape. Quietly this time. Out of sight.

“See ya.” You said quietly to yourself.

The next morning, you woke up to a series of messages from Peter.

“she didnt suspect a thing HAHAHA” 12:32 AM

“thank u again btw” 12:33 AM

“it hurts to blink.” 12:34 AM

“ok goodnight ill let you know how it lasts thru the night.” 12:34 AM

“hi it disappeared a little bit but im gonna add some more i hope that’s ok” 9:12 AM

You bit your lip, your finger hovering over the facetime button. You click it without thinking too much of it, waiting for him to answer.

Peter comes into frame with a newly pale complexion. His entire face was covered in concealer.

“Hi.” He grins at the camera, oblivious to how ghostly he looked. This would’ve scared you if he didn’t answer the call in that ridiculous angle.

“Peter…” You sighed.

“What? Did I miss a spot?”

“…No. You can’t possibly miss any more spots I don’t think.”

Peter frowns at the camera, he thought he did well.

“Too much?” He chuckled, embarrassed.

You roll your eyes.

“This stuff covers everything. I don’t have freckles anymore.” He runs away at his cheek, showing that it wasn’t coming off.

“Did May see you yet today?” You sighed.

“No.. Should I take this off?”

Before you could answer, May quickly knocks on Peter’s door, and doesn’t wait to open the door.

“Hey, I’m thinking pizza for lunch-“

Peter turns to look at May and you could see her blurry face peek through behind Peter's shoulder on your screen. She widens her eyes and blinks a couple times.

“What… What is that?”

“Sunscreen.” Peter blurts out.

“Y/N and I are going to the beach.”

May knits her brows together, thinking if that’s really believable or not.

“There’s no beach near by.”

Peter silently stares at his aunt.

“...I’m eating this pizza with or without you .” May shrugs. “Have fun at the… beach.” She gives Peter a look and then closes the door.

Peter turns his attention back to his phone.

“The beach?” You squeaked out, attempting to stifle your laugh.

“I would hang up if I didn’t need help taking this off.” Peter says flatly.

You let out a groan. “Just get over here.”

[galeorderbride]

Seriously, I am blessed <3 this blog was meant to be a tiny little corner that maybe 10 people followed lol. I'm so glad to be wrong because I got to connect with so many wonderful people here :)

I made a poll for a 100 follower milestone oneshot, and the winner was (of course lol) Gale fluff/smut. I've finally finished it, and I seriously hope everyone likes it because I made it for you!

So, can't stress this enough, 18+ MDNI

Oh, and it's not beta read. I will edit later lol if there are any mistakes

Fic (and warnings/description) under the cut and can be viewed on ao3 if you prefer.

Welcome Home

Gale Dekarios x F!Tav 18+ MDNI

Words: 5.2k

Rating: Explicit for graphic smut, piv sex, oral sex (m and f recieving), fingering, creampie, soft!dom Gale, use of pet names (sweet girl, love, etc), light choking with fingers. Fluffy and romantic :)

Summary: Gale and Tav spend their first night in Waterdeep postgame, and he wants to make her feel welcome :)

...

Funny how in the entire, months long adventure against all dangers known to the Sword Coast, the one memory that stuck to Tav the most was meeting Gale. Pulling him out of an unstable portal, the lure of his bright, scholarly voice calling her ‘friend’ in the first fifty words. Little did she know, he spoke to her a prophecy. From that moment on, Tav and Gale spent all their time together, getting lost in his conceptual monologues and trading books as a solace against the ever present violence. 

In between the lines of borrowed books and stolen glances, falling in love was inevitable. From an unexpected kinship, to touching friendship and eventual passionate romance had been the one blessing in such a strenuous journey. Locked in the expectation of each other, eager for the night to fall, for the candlelight to illuminate the azure of Gale’s tent as an open door. A routine after each near death experience, to share two bedrolls squished together and become expert in the ways of making love without bruising their skin on the hard ground below. They were a proper couple by the journey’s conclusion, soaked in love and devotion, ready for the permanency of their relationship to finally bloom with the defeat of the Elder Brain. 

Their affections made clear and official when Gale proposed the evening after the city had been saved. 

One would think with all that familiarity that Tav would have no problem arriving in Waterdeep with her new betrothed. Settling into each other never came easier back in those wretched patches they called camp. Effortless to just exist with confidence. But as soon as Gale and her crossed the threshold into his towers, she felt like a stranger to him. Unsure of what the proper action might be, to the point where she found herself afraid to remove her cloak. 

Everything felt foreign. As if she’d never been anywhere but on the road, either to Moonrise or Baldur’s Gate. The tower was new, of course, but even her clothes felt odd. Clad in a woollen skirt and forest green blouse instead of armour. Hair down and well groomed rather than pulled back for outdoor convenience. Skin clean and devoid of bruises and cuts. As ridiculous as it may sound, she forgot how to be anything else but a scrapping adventurer. And to be in a lavish tower full of every amenity she could dream of, alone in the start of domestic bliss with her beautiful partner. Something so commonplace, yet completely implausible to her. 

“Your palace awaits, dearest,” Gale said, presenting her the main room of the tower with that comical charisma impervious to awkwardness. 

Handsome didn’t begin to describe him. Hair tied back in a half up style and an ivory button down held tight against his body with brand new suspenders. Healthy and happy, soon to be free of the orb and all the consequences along with it. Tav had never seen him so elated. He simply glowed with the promise of their love. The promise of peace. 

Tav smiled, the stretch of her lips failing to reach her eyes as she pondered about the tower. Distracting herself with the warm toned decor of brown leather couches and exposed stone walls. Gale magically lit the fireplace at the centre of it all, warming them against the cooling weather of late Uktar, made colder by the tidal winds of Waterdeep. She wanted to say something charming, but couldn’t find the words. 

“I’m sorry, Gale, I’m—a bit nervous. Not certain why, this should all be so normal but…oh, I don’t know,” she said, scoffing at herself. 

Gale stepped close to her, wearing that affectionate, closed-mouth smile he always did when she needed reassurance. Strong, sculpted hands found their way to her arms, squeezing just hard enough to ensure her eyes stayed on his. Shivers down her spine juxtaposing with the growing warmth of the fire. 

“This isn’t exactly normal for us, hmm? Accustomed to living under the impression that we may die the next morning, worried about whether we’d turn into illithid or get done in by Bhaalists. Not much time for the soothing hum of what we once missed,” he said, caressing the sides of her arms lightly. “Fret not, I’m a little unsure, myself. We’ll adjust. How about a glass of wine?” 

Tav felt eased by his touch, and his offer for something to take the edge off. “You read my mind. Thank you.” 

Placing a small kiss on her forehead, he said, “Have a seat by the fire, my love. I’ll prepare the finest blend in my cellar.” 

Gale bustled about in the concealed kitchen as Tav settled herself on the sofa closest to the windows, enlivening the living room with maroon and yellow stained glass and piles of books on their sills. Everything there was to know about him existed within these walls, the tower containing his very life breath. Excitement beat through her heart as she contemplated all the things he had not thought to tell her, waiting to be found in every corner. Silly things like unfinished poems and a favourite paper weight, if he played different songs on the piano at different times of day. All in between that she was meant to spend her life learning with him. 

“Athkatlan clarry,” Gale said as he walked into the living room with two goblets and an intricate, tall bottle of mulled wine. “I’ve been thinking about this blend since we first cooked together. How you loved those darker spices, cloves and peppercorns, and your admiration for the blackberry sauce I made. How I hoped I’d be able to share this particular bottle with you. I’m glad that dream has come true.” 

Notes of thyme and cherry touched her lips before the wine blanched her tastebuds with the heavenly taste of vanilla. Warm, mirthy flavours that wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. The soft happiness of being thought of enough that he had a wine decision months before they could even pop the cork. That was simply Gale; he had a way of making her feel like the only person in the realms.  

“You had my tastes down so early,” she said. “I can’t possibly compete.” 

“Don’t think of it as a competition. You’ve never been to Waterdeep, have no family or friends here, and yet you still came here with me when I asked you. For that, the least I can do is think of a wine to match your tastes,” he said. 

Tav smiled, confident enough to rest her hand on top of his, “Where you go, I go. That was decided the same day you chose this wine for me.” 

Neither of them noticed how close they’d drawn, each sip of their wine leading them nearer and nearer. The sides of their thighs touching, Gale’s arm lingering behind her back, ready to snake his arm around her waist. Her hand still held his, comfortably resting on his lap. That beckoning look in his eye had Tav spellbound, the seductive leer ending in the corners of his lips, stretched to a subtle, desirous smile. An expression incapable of feigning innocence, pooling with a tender but heated want. 

Gale slowly lifted her hand to his mouth, peppering soft kisses against each knuckle grazing against his beard. Tav’s stomach tightened, tingling with sensations of desire. Heat from the fire sunk into already burning skin and the warm blush of the wine in her blood. She often wondered if he did magic when he touched her like this, rendering her still and speechless. Her pride would never let her ask him, lest she find out the actual answer and prove to the world that she really was just a fool for him. 

“Come here,” he said with his lips grazing her fingers, “Let me kiss you.” 

Soft lips found hers as Gale finally let that hovering arm wrap around her waist. Unburdening her nerves with every caress of his palm against her back, slowly but surely finding its way under her blouse. Fingertips grazed her spine, counting each inch from the base to the top. His other pressed against her cheek, holding her close. Tav melted under his kiss, a light tickle between her legs as he slipped the tip of his tongue inside her mouth. Not too much, just enough to ease them into a gentle make out. Gale never rushed. He enjoyed playing with her, feeling the warm wetness of her lips, the amused yelp when he nipped at the fragile tissue, all the ways to get her body to lean into his. And it always worked, proven by the hook of her leg over his thighs, the silken heat of her core driving him. 

Tav could’ve stayed like that for ages, able to forget the world around her with his passionate kissing. He always said he could do better, develop his technique after being out of practise for so long. But even the first time, tucked away in that starry illusion he conjured, it was the best she ever had. 

“You deserve to be worshipped every single day, my dearest love. But tonight, especially. For the first time, we are home. This is your home, if you’ll have it. I want everything to be perfect,” he said, mouth still hovering over hers. The taste of his breath on her tongue, laced with vanilla wine and spearmint. 

“Oh, Gale, you’ve done so much to make me feel welcome. Things are already perfect,” Tav said. 

“Then let’s make perfect last. Come with me upstairs, there’s more I’d like to show you,” he said. 

Hand-in-hand, they left the living room and walked up the spiralling steps to the second level of his tower. Tapestries of different scenes hanging on the wall, all with accents of florals, latticework and myths of great heroes of history. Candlelit sconces lighting their way up. Nothing short of a fairytale, as if she was wandering the castle of a magical prince. Well, in a way, she was. 

Somehow, she imagined the study he showed her on their first night together. The very centre from which he cultivated his life before meeting her. But he led her through a different door, one leading to a spacious, well kept bedroom. A king-sized four poster bed against the furthest wall, a closed terrace with beautiful double doors. Night projected from the moonlit glass, droplets of rain beginning to patter against the panes. Another fireplace sat adjacent to the bed, lit amongst intricate stone just like the one downstairs. In front, two armchairs and a circular rug, different shades of dark red sewn in an intricate style. 

“Oh my goodness, don’t tell me this is your bedroom? You wizards do like to live lavishly,” Tav said as he led her into the room. She stood in the middle, craning her neck to see every hanged painting and arcane trinket on each surface. Even after looking two or three times, there was something else to see. 

“To tell the truth, the luxury of the room isn’t for me. Not really. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t appreciate fine decor and comfort. But most nights, I just fell asleep in my study. I wanted this to be something to share, to be a shelter of beauty and warmth for the one I love. Now that you’re here, I finally have a reason to close the books at the end of the night,” he explained, joining her where she stood and holding her close. 

Tav smiled, running her hands up his chest and landing at his shoulders. The soft cotton of his button down like a cool breeze against her palms. Both his arms were snug around her waist, swaying her lightly in place. 

“I regret to inform you that neither room will be offering much sleep, Mr. Dekarios,” she said, craning her head up to meet his lips in a soft, chaste kiss. “Not if I’m in here.” 

“Oh, believe me, sleep was never an option,” He said, grinning between kisses that deepened with each smack of their lips together. “Tonight, let me welcome you to your new home. Show you the splendours of this tower and all the magic it can provide—in the mortal way, of course.” 

Teasing him was all she could think to do to temper the giddiness within her. His poetic charm folding her stomach upside down. “Don’t be too fantastic, or I’ll start asking for it every night.” 

“Hmm, a threat or a promise?” He asked, but there was no need for an answer. 

Words were nothing compared to the sultry kiss he gave her, deepened with the slide of his tongue along her bottom lip and a soft moan crackling from Gale’s throat. This was the start of their lives together, away from danger and unpredictability. Beginning with a simple kiss in the middle of the bedroom that would be theirs forever. 

“Now, darling, you have a choice,” he said to her, turning her body so her back pressed against his chest, his hands caressing her arms, shoulders and collarbone, just barely avoiding the peak of her covered breasts. His stubble tickled against her bare cheek, unable to resist planting little kisses along the side of his jaw as he moved her around. 

He continued, “Armchair or bed?” 

Tav’s entire body wanted to erupt in embarrassing giggles, but managed to keep her cool as she took a long, drawn out breath. “What exactly am I choosing these for?” 

“Choose,” he demanded. 

She bit her bottom lip, tempted by the tender warmth of the firelight, “Armchair.” 

He moved her body a couple steps to face the chair, whispering in her ear, “In that case, I’m going to get you naked now. And then, I’m going to make you cum on the armchair. All well and good, sweet girl?” 

Every part of her tingled at the sound of such a pet name. At this point, she’d have let him do just about anything he wanted. Her voice shook with anticipation, “Oh yes, all well and good.” 

Gale began with the small buttons on her blouse, keeping her back to him. As his fingers undid each one, he kissed the side of her neck, the sound of his lips sucking and licking at her skin fluttering in her ears. Tav reveled in the shots of warm air as her shirt opened more and more, all the way until Gale pulled the fabric from her shoulders. A simple, cream coloured bra kept her covered, until he snapped the clasp off with expert precision, freeing her breasts for him to squeeze and knead. Tav sighed deeply, letting her head fall into the crux of his shoulder while his fingertips teased around her hardening nipples. Tracing the little buds and continuing to kiss her neck at the same time, so fervent that a trail of saliva dripped from his mouth down her skin. It was positively debauched, and yet so filled with devotion and love. His hands never allowed a part of her to go untouched, not even trying to seem like he wasn’t falling apart for her in an instant. 

Letting go of her breasts, he let his hands trail to the belt of her wool skirt, chafing against her bare waist. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear now, simple affirmations like ‘beautiful’, ‘magnificent’, ‘my entire universe’. Tav could listen to him all night, just lying in his arms while he shuddered every adjective to describe her humanly possible. But not now, as he tucked his thumbs into the skirt and gently pulled the fabric off her rounded hips. He played with the lace of the matching underwear to her now discarded bra, letting his palms wander from the hem of the panties to her butt, squishing the soft flesh. 

“How can something be so soft? You defy the greatest alchemists with the way you’ve been sculpted,” he said, giving her a playful pinch on her left cheek. Tav couldn’t stop that giggle, jumping forward as she felt the ticklish sting. A little distraction so he could bend down and pull off the last bit of clothing she had, now fully naked in the middle of his bedroom. Their bedroom.  

“Shall I take a seat?” She asked, motioning towards the armchair. 

“Mmm, yes please. So obedient, I don’t even have to tell you where to go. Seems you left your stubbornness in Baldur’s Gate,” he said, watching closely as her hips swayed in her walk to the chair. Each second he was blessed to witness her, she became more beautiful. Magic not even he could conjure. Intertwined so strikingly with the glittering veins of her soul. 

Tav giggled, sitting on the chair with her knees tucked to her chest, as if hiding her body from the man who’d seen it countless times now. “Trust me, when I get more comfortable here, I’ll be back to my normal, argumentative self.” 

Gale smirked, stepping in front of the chair, towering over her sitting form. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, my love. But I’ll not tolerate closed legs in this bedroom, dearest. Open up.” 

With a quick motion of his finger, a magical, invisible force pried her legs open on the chair. Tav gasped as she felt the soles of her feet drag along the velvet fabric. The cool air kissed the surface of her core, already wet with desire before he’d even touched her. How could she not, when exposed to the ethereal beauty of Gale. The absolute picture of perfection to her, with his flowing chestnut hair lined with grey, his toned torso glistening under candlelight as he slipped off his shirt. He was impossible not to look at, as if he walked out of a classical painting. 

Firelight glowed against her skin, her muscles melting into the comfort of the chair as she watched her beloved smirk at her. Eager tingles danced across her palms, yearning to touch his bare torso, feel the prickle of his body hair, kiss the orb tattoo that would soon heal away forever. Addicted to caressing her body against his own, coated with hot sweat as she imagined him everywhere on her, inside her. The craving was too much, Tav bringing one hand to knead her breast and the other down to her clit, gently rubbing the sensitive tip between her index and middle finger.

That is, until Gale lowered to his knees in front of her and moved her hand away. He grasped her wrist, bringing her fingers up to her mouth and shoving them inside for her to eagerly suck. 

“No no, sweet girl,” he said, clicking his tongue, “Keep those fingers in your mouth. Let me make you cum.” 

“Oh, Gale,” she said through her fingers, still prodding at her tongue, “Please…” 

“Aww, please? Please what?” He asked, his voice dark with lust as he inched his face closer between her legs, enough to feel the chill of his breath blowing against her clit. Tav exhaled, craning her head back as she fought the pulsing desire to be filled, licked and sucked until she was ruined. 

“P-please make me cum, Gale,” she said, taking her fingers out of her mouth as she spoke. 

He raised a brow at her, distancing his head back as he said, “Put those fingers back, beautiful. And then I’ll do exactly what you want.” 

They never had much time during their journey to enjoy themselves for a while. To let Gale take his time in pleasing her, demanding things of her. Tav felt even more blessed than she already did to be here with him, where they could spend the night adoring each other, exploring every way to make love. This, though, seeing Gale confident and assertive, would definitely be a favourite. 

Placing her fingers back in her mouth, letting him watch as she poked and prodded at her tongue and throat. A muffled, heart stopping growl emanated from him as he neared her pussy again, letting a trail of saliva fall from his lips, sinking onto her clit. All she could do was whimper, her inner thighs shaking as he finally trailed his tongue all across her slit. Using the tips of his thumbs to spread her open as he gently wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking and kissing at the sensitive bud to keep her irresistible sounds in his ears. Mixing with his own moans, debauched with the slick of her essence drenching his beard. 

Gale loved pressing at the soft flesh of her pussy with his thumbs, giving in to the temptation and pushing one inside of her. Continuing to lap at her clit, feeling it swell against his tongue as she drew closer to climax. He couldn’t help but smile every time she bucked her hips into him, using her free hand to clutch the arm of the chair while she struggled to keep sucking her fingers. Gods, sometimes she’d get carried away, and he’d hear a little gag from her throat, driving him further into her cunt. 

“Gods above, that feels so good! I’m close…so close,” she exclaimed through her filled mouth, concentrating on the intense precipice she balanced on. Her hips grinding against him, nearly screaming at the sensation of his lips slurping at her clit. Only a few more seconds went by before an orgasm snapped through her insides, hooking her legs over his shoulders and crying out his name. “Gale! Gale! Ugh…” 

The paradise of tasting her was unmatched to any other experience. Floral, buttery notes along his tongue as he used the tip to lightly trace across her clit, shaking from overstimulation. Gale replaced her fingers with the thumb that thrusted in her pussy, sharing in the flavour of her orgasm. 

“Good girl,” he said, “You taste amazing, I could survive on your cunt alone. Always doing so well for me, but I need to see it again, alright?” 

Tav’s sigh was breathless, wheezing with pleasure as she came down from the intense climax. She didn’t even have time to answer before he hugged his arms around her hips, scooping her legs around his waist to lift her off the chair. Limp in his arms, she began to kiss across his neck, licking and sucking to the point of marks. More desire between her legs when he’d groan in her ear, or shudder at the sensation of her nails gently scratching down his back. 

Silk sheets met her backside as he lowered her down to the mattress. Plunged into even more comfort, certain she’d never experienced a softer bed. Her arms stretched above her head, letting Gale do whatever he wanted to her. Staring at her, he never allowed his eyes to part as he undid the buckle of his belt, removing his trousers. Tav bit her lip when his cock sprang free, thick and hard with the slick of precum dotting the tip. 

“Let me touch it,” she begged, remembering she’d get what she wanted if she was polite, “Please.” 

Gale laughed, that flirtatious scoff he did when he knew he was a step ahead. Circling her like prey, driven to madness by the beauty of Tav. He couldn’t believe she wanted to be with him, stay with him for the rest of their lives. A silent vow in his head that swore he’d do everything to show how thankful he was. She’d given him the greatest reward a person could ever ask for. 

“So pretty when you’re begging for my cock,” he said, climbing onto the bed behind her. Positioning himself so his waist aligned with her face. Gale shook with arousal when he witnessed her licking her lips, eyes glued to the head. He asked her, “Do you want to taste me, dearest?” 

Tav nodded, moving her neck forward to envelop her mouth along the head of his cock. Gently caressing the tip with her lips, rimming the tip of her tongue along the sensitive ridge. He shuddered, almost cumming down her throat right there, just enough strength to resist. This was her time, and once was never enough for Gale. He traced his fingertips down her body, stopping to pinch her nipples and graze her inner thighs before sliding two into her cunt. She yelped in surprise, lowering her mouth to capture his shaft deeper. 

“Suck me all you want, but focus on finishing for me again, sweet girl. I told you I wanted to see it again. Can you do that for me?” He said, voice sensual and darker than his usual tone. Overtaken by extreme lust and the biting need to fill every part of her with his seed. 

Tav nodded with him still in her mouth, her oral fixation kicking in as she felt herself working towards a second climax just because she felt him gently fucking her throat. Combining with the hot, delicate pleasure of him thrusting his fingers inside of her. Massaging her clit with his thumb in perfect circles, hitting every spot she loved. He used his free hand to hold her head on his lap, playing with her sweat-laden hair. 

“Oh gods above, Tav! You give me more than I could ever imagine,” he said, throwing his head back as he relished in the pleasure of her tongue lolling around his cock. “Come for me, my goddess. So perfect, all for me. All for me.” 

Gale’s cock popped out of her mouth as she gasped in ecstasy, a second orgasm blossoming in her core when his fingers hit just the right spot. Her already soaking cunt dripping onto his hand, body hot with sweat and spasming muscles. During her come down, she flicked her tongue along the tip of his cock, tasting the faint saltiness of his precum. Hooked on the sounds of his shaken breath as he laughed with terrifyingly seductive satisfaction. 

Warmth covered her back, so heated and shaken she created her own heatwave. Between heavy breaths, she said, “Flip me over, please? It’s too hot.” 

“What impeccable timing for you to say that. I’m going to fuck you now, love,” he said, quickly grabbing her waist and flipping her to her stomach in one, effortless swoop. Her head hung slightly off the foot of the bed, smiling to herself as she felt Gale move his body between her legs. His cock grinding against her core from behind. 

Kisses trailed down her spine, a calm moan leaving her lips in enjoyment. Giggling as he nipped at her shoulders and scrunched her hair in his fist, pulling just hard enough for a tickling sting. He used his hold on her hair to turn her head, pressing his lips to hers in a passionate, burning make out. Pushing his tongue against hers with unbridled, sultry moans. Never over the taste of him, the scent of him, the weight of him, everything forever. 

“Gale, please, I can’t take it anymore. More, more,” she begged, happily overwhelmed by the wet kisses he spread all over her face. 

“More what, my dear? Use your words,” he whispered, biting and sucking at her earlobe. Tav’s legs bent in desperation as he pressed his rock solid cock at her entrance, teasing the slit but never penetrating. Just pushing the tip, teasing and teasing until she reached the point of crudeness he wanted her to be. 

“Mmm put your cock in me, Gale. I want to come again, please!” She cried out, voice high and tired. 

Allowing him to take control meant more than simply wanting to be submissive during love making. After months of constant fear of death, violence and all other forms of danger, the two of them could finally be vulnerable. Open themselves to one another in any way they liked, for as long as they wished. The very comfort Gale wanted to give her when they arrived at his tower, a beginning of a thousand nights of passion, tenderness and joy. And a thousand more after that. 

“I love you so much, my heart. My soul. You are just…everything to me,” he said, body melting into hers as he slipped his cock inside. Slow, tight stretching conquering every nerve in her body. Endless pleasure in the feeling of being completely taken over by him, his chest against her back as he began to thrust into her stimulated cunt. His hand clutching her ass feverishly. 

“I love you, Gale, please don’t stop! I’m…gonna…” 

Tav couldn’t finish a sentence, not when the wet stretch of his cock thrusting into her kept going and going. His pace was strong yet loving as he kissed every part of her he could reach. Hands holding her head for support. He wanted badly for her to finish again, one more time before he found his own release. There wasn’t much left of him, his cock twitching between her vibrating walls sucking him deeper and deeper. 

There wasn’t a part of her body that didn’t feel something. Clit rubbing against the soft sheets while he pounded into her, languishing within as she felt his rhythm changing the closer he got. Each time he moved, his moans grew into desperate, pleasured whimpers. A sound like paradise to her ears, bringing her nearer to that final climax. Paralyzed under him as she let herself drown in bliss, going silent as her body quaked in orgasm. Muscles tightening with that weaker but heavenly spasm, her mind couldn’t believe he had driven her to such a high. 

“Ohhh, yes, good girl! Finishing so good for me like that, three times. I’m going to make you mine, my love. Make love to your cunt until I cum deep inside you,” he said, growling in her ear like a feral beast. An irresistible side of him, made even better when knowing she was the only person who’d get to see it. 

Both of them moaned in tandem as Gale spilled inside of her, hanging his head in the crux of her neck and shoulder as he held her tighter than ever. Full body tingles coursed through Tav, drunk on the ecstasy of being the vessel for his pleasure. Feeling him soften inside her while he peppered kisses along her back. 

“Welcome home, my love,” he said, tone gentler as he came down from lust. He turned over, laying beside her as their hair hung off the foot of the mattress. 

“You’re quite the host, Mr. Dekarios. Do you do that with all your guests?” She asked with a sly grin. 

Gale wrapped his arms around her shoulders, snuggling their bodies together as he kissed the side of her head. “You’re not a guest, my love. This is your home, as much as it is mine. I’ll spend a thousand days and nights telling you that if I must.” 

Tav hooked her leg across his waist, ignoring the warmth and sweat of their skin so she could be close to him. Be taken to that paradise unique to her beloved wizard. 

“I’ll hold you to that.”

[pinkiedev]

Borrowers Using Things as Other Things

So, I made that drawing where a borrower uses a leaf as an umbrella (here), and now here's a list of other items a borrower might 'misuse!'

----

An acorn top = a hat

A hair elastic = a belt

A dish towel = an extra-large full-body towel XD

A handkerchief = a blanket

A sock = a sleeping bag

A beanie hat = a nest

A big ol' boot = another nest

A bunch of feathers = bedding for nest

A toothpick = a walking stick

A needle = a sword (fencing style??)

A thumbtack = a dagger

A fishing hook = a grapple

A piece of graphite = a pencil

A string = a rope (especially if twined into a thicker braid)

A string of floss = ... a waxy rope??

A toothbrush head = a brush (for pet mice?)

A nail file = a sanding board (for smoothing rough wood)

An old mouthwash lid = water storage container OR a laundry hamper

An empty lip balm tin = a (food) storage container

An ice cube tray = a multi-compartment storage bin

A bottlecap = a bowl/cup

A thimble = a flowerpot

A teacup = a bathtub

A shiny coin/button = a portrait/decoration

A watch = a wall clock

A ring = a crown

A bracelet = a decorative sash

A circlet earing = a necklace

A silver necklace = a long chain (for what?? idk?!? leash for mouse??)

A fork = a clothing hanger (on the prongs)

A match = a torch

A ruler = a height-measuring stick

A popsicle stick = a leg splint (kept tight with scotch tape)

An old Rubik's cube/children's block = a table

A pair of dice = a set of chairs

A paintbrush = a broom

Extra:

Whatever that little white plastic thing is called that comes on the center of a pizza sometimes and looks like a teeny table. Except now actually used as a table XD

(Also, I've got a Pt. 2 to this now)

[k0juki]

mafia!Mick Schumacher

Mick Schumacher x fem!reader

Gn is alright too!

Summary: Just few moments with Mafia!Mick Schumacher x fem!reader.

Warnings: sunburn, sassy reader, mentions of blood and dead body, fluff and teasing I guess? Not much of Mafia at all 💀

!english is not my first language so feel free to point out any mistakes or errors!

Also picture is not mine! Credit goes to owner!

Fem!reader would be working for him as his personal assistant. Fully knowing what he does for a living and her being alright with it because she gets paid well. She would be his right hand that always reminds him when he has an important meeting, bringing him drinks like tea or coffee when he doesn't go to sleep or when he's feeling cocky, he would tell her to choose the shirt she likes on him to just mess with her because he likes to see her face all red. You not wanting to look at him, feeling overwhelmed.

Mick would start to remove his black t-shirt and be like "Which one do you like more on me liebling?" All cocky with that pet name in German knowing it works on her. "The white button down shirt you ass." She would say not being scared at all, knowing that he would never hurt her for anything she says. Mick would just chuckle, throwing a smirk her way as she's leaving him to change his clothes. Feeling butterflies in stomach.

---

He would fall first, she would fall harder.

Fem!reader would be secretly loving Mick but being an ass to him because she's scared that if she opens to him, he would leave her, so it's better if she hurts him by saying all the mean things and acting like she doesn't care instead of her getting hurt, but it still be hurting her feelings.

But Mick knowing better, he would be so caring towards her, never forgetting her birthday and buying her a little cupcake with candle on it with colorful flowers that she loves, letting her borrow his jacket when it gets cold, giving anyone death stare the moment someone says anything disrespectful to her or just making her feel uncomfortable, always having an spare hair bands somewhere in his pocket or on his hand, like it's middle of the July and she was rushing to his office because for the first time she overslept in few years.

Coming to his office apologizing that she came later than usual, she would sit behind her desk that is opposite of his. Being all sweaty from the weather and forgetting her ice coffee on her way there she didn't have much luck.

Sanding from his desk and going right behind her, he would found one of the hair bands, taking strands of hair and began to make her a ponytail, "I can do it myself" she said as he gently, so as not to hurt her, he would run his hand through her soft hair that she washed before she went to bed last night.

"I know you can, but let me, '' Mick said as he adjusted the rubber band on her head, kissing the top of her head as she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear that didn't want to stay in place. "Thank you Mick, you didn't have to " she said feeling all shy "You're welcome love."

---

Mick is definitely a pet name king. Teasing you at any given moment. Not having peace even at your home when you came from the bathroom freshly shower, you hear your phone buzz and saw Mick's photo on your screen, so you pick it up thinking none of it and he would just start blabbing some nonsense to annoy you. "You know liebling, I really enjoy the mean facade you're trying to make." He said chuckling and anyone who would hear Mick right now, wouldn't say that he belongs to the mafia at all.

"You're seriously like a man-child" you said, now all annoyed. "Don't you want to go for coffee sometime?" huh? You thought "Bye Mick, call me when you need something important." Hanging up, you have to slow your breathing as you hold your phone closer to your chest now all frustrated.

---

I think fem!reader wouldn't take him seriously at first. Just a pure assistant that does her job the best she can. Yes, time to time seeing a dead body, blood and everything like that, but she doesn't care enough for that. Sometimes she thinks he just wants to use her and then leave her. So she would be distant with him as much as possible those days.

He wouldn't like that. He can't be nothing but gentlemen around her. So he's always opening/holding doors for you. "After you liebling.”

And definitely would say some shit like "You're playing hard to get" whereupon you answered him "you're playing hard to get rid of". Both of you not meaning anything like that.

---

Fem!reader would always deny him from buying her expensive things, but him being Mick Schumacher will always buy you anything and I mean anything you want. He would take you on his yacht when he takes something like a holiday or 3 weeks off and said that you have it as free time. With him.

There would be so much pda. A lot of it. Mick will definitely sit next to you and will lay his hand on your thigh when you are eating breakfast/dinner or any other food. "Is it good?" Mick asked as he looked at you, your mouth full of fruits. "It's delicious," you said, smiling at him.

---

Fem!reader forgetting to put sunscreen and getting sunburn. "What did I tell you, hm?" Mick said with a bit of a disappointed tone in his voice. "Come here liebling, you need to hydrate it." He said now softly, knowing that it must hurts you.

Lots of small touches that make goosebumps on your skin, when he puts his hand on your lower back and starts rubbing small circles there as you put your head on his shoulder, now finally being comfortable. Your eyes are heavy as you feel him kiss the top of your head.

—

Do not copy or translate my works!

It was supposed to be Kimi but somehow it ended up being Mick so... maybe Kimi is gonna be next?

🫠🩷

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Something Borrowed

Pairing: Tom Bennett (World on Fire) x f!reader Warnings: Smut. Word count: ~1.5k Summary: An addition to Best Intentions. Read as a standalone, if you'd like.

Author's note: A birthday gift for @hoosbandewan - husband Tom on your birthday. Happy birthday, Erin! No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

“God’s got bigger things to worry about than me makin’ an honest woman outta ya,” Tom had told her with a wink. “Besides, the money we save we can put towards a bigger do. Would rather everyone have a few beers and sarnies to celebrate, than sit in a stuffy church with their arses going to sleep.”

That had settled it. Her and Tom were to have a registry office wedding, with a reception at The Ducie Arms afterwards. 

Even without money being as tight as it is she knows that this is what they would always have chosen. It’s just irrevocably them. Theirs is not a love born of grand gestures and material possessions. They share a soul connection, a lifetime of scraped knees, shared sweets, building their lives around each other, growing together. They are already two halves of the same whole, this is simply the string that ties it all together.

Despite keeping the ceremony itself modest, she feels like a princess as she stands in front of the mirror, her mum behind her fastening the last few buttons on the back of her wedding dress, as she places the last of the pins in her hair.

They’d gotten a deal at the haberdashery on some end cuts of lace and satin, and her mum had worked her magic with her sewing machine. The dress looks shop bought.

She smiles as she smooths her hands over the skirt, taking in the high neckline and draped sleeves, grateful that she’d woken early enough to clasp herself into the lingerie and slip that lies beneath - a wedding night treat for Tom - before her mum had arrived to help her get ready.

It had been a struggle to get out of bed that morning. Her mum, Lois and Connie had all popped round to the flat the previous evening to make sandwiches for the reception. She’d been half way through spreading margarine on a slice of bread when Connie had produced a bottle of gin from her bag.

“Well, if Tom and the rest of the lads are all at the pub, why shouldn’t we?” Connie had asked with a smile as Lois had rushed to get glasses down from the kitchen cupboard.

The pounding in her head the next day tells her exactly why she shouldn’t have. She wonders if Tom is in as much of a sorry state as she is. Thankfully, her make-up does a good job of hiding it.

Tom has called in a favour with a customer at the garage, so she can travel to the registry office in style. She has to stifle a laugh behind her hand as the sleek black motorcar pulls up outside the shop to pick her up. It’s the exact same one that her and Tom had vigorously made up in the back of.

As she slides onto the seat, gathering her skirt so that it doesn’t catch in the door, the memory of Tom laying between her thighs replays in her mind, causing her skin to heat up.

“Everything alright?” Her mum asks, climbing in next to her. “You look a bit flustered.”

She blinks, swallowing and nodding, startled out of her reverie. “Yeah, Mum, bit nervous is all.”

Tom stops fidgeting with his tie knot the moment he sees her, a grin spreading across his face as she walks towards him and the registrar. He lets out a low whistle as she stops beside him, turning to face him. She bows her head, giggling. She feels like a school girl all over again.

Time seems to stand still for her as she gazes into Tom’s blue eyes, not really registering the words being spoken, or the vows she utters in response, fixated only on Tom’s beaming smile. Once more he is that little boy, face full of sunshine and the sweetest little rabbit teeth she’s ever seen. 

Except now he is hers. Her husband. She is a wife.

“Fuckin’ finally,” Tom mutters, surging forward once they are told they can kiss.

He grasps the back of her neck, pressing his lips to hers in a motion that steals the air from her lungs. She wraps her arms around his shoulders, smiling into it, her heart fluttering just as it had the first time they’d ever kissed. In a way, this is a first too, the first of many things they’ll share as a married couple.

“Hello, Mrs. Bennett,” he whispers against her lips when they finally part for breath.

The words have heat pooling between her legs almost instantly. She is certain she’ll never tire of hearing them.

As everyone heads in the direction of The Ducie Arms, she is confused when Tom pulls her back in the direction of the shop.

“What you doing?” She asks, brow furrowing as she resists his gentle tug on her arm.

“Left something in the flat, need to go back for it,” he tells her, nodding his head in the direction he wants to go.

“Can’t you just quickly go back for it on your own, and meet me at the pub?”

He shakes his head, tugging at her hand again. “Need you to help me, come on.”

She sighs, relenting and allowing him to pull her along. “We’re gonna be late to our own wedding reception.”

Tom smirks, glancing sideways at her. “They’ll wait, they have to.”

As soon as they’re home, he’s upon her, backing her up towards the bedroom as his hands grasp her waist and his lips find hers.

She giggles between hurried kisses, their breaths intermingling. “Is this what you forgot then?”

Tom pushes her back against the mattress, placing hot, opened mouthed kisses against her throat. “You look so good in that dress, darlin’, couldn’t wait any longer.”

She gasps as her hands slide up her skirt, bunching it at her hips. He leans back, arching a brow appreciatively at the white lingerie he finds beneath. His fingers hook beneath the strap that attaches her stocking to her garter belt and pull back slightly before letting go. It snaps against the flesh of her thigh, making her squeal.

“Tommy, we can’t!” She protests. “I’m wearing things that I won’t be able to put back on if you take them off.”

“Why ever would I take ‘em off?” He asks mockingly, cocking his head. “It’d be a waste.”

She whines as, forcefully, he pushes the gusset of her knickers to one side, swiping through her slick folders, grinning at the wetness he finds. “Gonna make us late to our own wedding reception with this. Naughty, naughty.”

Writhing against the bed, she no longer cares for her fancy lingerie, or if she rumples her dress, not when she hears the metallic clink of Tom’s belt buckle opening. The noise travels straight to her core, causing her to clench around nothing, until finally he’s lining himself up against her entrance and pressing inside. No matter how many times her and Tom make love she’ll never get used to the exquisite torture of that first initial stretch. It robs her of all coherent thought every time, only able to focus on the feeling of him pushing her walls apart.

She expects him to be quick and brutal with her, but he stills once he’s fully inside, resting his forehead against hers. It’s comforting to have him this close, just to feel the weight of him.

As she runs her hands down his back, met with the wiry yet solid expanse of muscle, she’s taken back to a time when he first returned from France and was so thin she could feel every vertebrae in his spine. This is testament to how far he’s come, how far they’ve come; not just the weight he’s put back on, but that he’s healed enough to be in a place where can be someone’s husband, and he has chosen to be hers.

Feeling a prickle of tears in her eyes, she blinks them back, feeling embarrassed when one strays its way down her cheek, until she looks back up into Tom’s eyes to see his are similarly wet.

He holds her close, he takes his time with her. It’s gentle, unhurried, and full of love.

“I love you, Mrs. Bennett,” he whispers to her.

They are late to their reception, but met with rapturous applause as they enter through the pub doors nonetheless. They drink lager, and eat spam sandwiches, and Tom treads on her feet when they attempt to slow dance to ‘Sentimental Journey’ by Doris Day. She can’t imagine a more perfect evening, that is until Tom guides her outside.

They walk back towards the wall, their wall and Tom helps her up onto it, before sitting beside her. Her legs don’t dangle as high from the floor as they used to, and it’s odd to look down and see her legs draped in white lace, instead of littered with scrapes and bruises.

She grins when she turns to Tom, watching as he produces a paper bag of sherbet straws from his inside jacket pocket. “Just wanted to say thanks for helping me with my maths homework fifteen years ago,” he says with a cheeky smile, “Mates, yeah?”

Warmth spreads throughout her chest as she leans against him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Always.”

[dixons-sunshine]

Someone To Love | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

Summary: Daryl treasured his friendship with you. You were everything to him, someone he could go to when he needed you. On his sixteenth birthday, you did something for him that made him realize that his love for you ran much deeper than he had initially thought.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Pre apocalypse.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU.

Warnings: Swearing.

Word count: 1.8k.

A/n: I'm really sleep deprived, so this potentially sucks really bad. It's also not exactly like what was requested, but I went with my gut and this was born. However, I hope you like this! (Requested by @ddamm. I'm not gonna be home this weekend and won't be able to write something for your birthday, so I wrote this for you as an early birthday present!)

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Where are ya takin' me?”

“I can't tell you that. It's a surprise, Daryl.”

“Y'know I hate surprises.”

“This one you'll like, I promise. Now shut up and just follow me.”

Daryl rolled his eyes at you, a small, affectionate smile annoyingly tugging at the corners of his lips. He walked with his hands tucked into his jean pockets, carefully stepping over any logs and big rocks in his path. You were walking slightly ahead of him, a skip in your step as you lead him somewhere—to his supposed surprise or his death, he wasn't sure.

“Ya sure ya didn't jus' bring me out here to kill me?” Daryl questioned playfully, chuckling at the glare you threw his way over your shoulder. “Jus' askin', sunshine. No need to get mad. S'a valid question. Most'a those murder books ya read start in the woods, so m'jus' curious if yer takin' a page outta those characters' books.”

You looked at him over your shoulder. “Believe me, if I wanted to kill you, I wouldn't do it in the most common, boring way. I'm more creative than that.”

Daryl raised his eyebrows at you. “Should I be scared?”

“No, of course not!” you laughed and shook your head, reaching over to grab his wrist. You tugged him along behind you, taking off into a steady run.

Daryl stumbled over his feet for a moment before laughing, quickening his pace to keep up with you. “Jeez, girl! Ya dun' have to rip my damn arm off.”

You giggled. “Sorry, I was excited,” you apologized, stopping in your tracks. You turned to Daryl when he stopped next to you, releasing your grip on his arm. “We're here. Happy birthday, Dar.”

Daryl looked ahead and was surprised to be met with a small, intimate setting—a picnic basket resting on top of a blanket. You had really gone above and beyond, Daryl thought I'm surprise, trying to ignore the odd feeling of warmth that spread through his body when he looked back at you and saw an excited smile on your face.

“You said no parties, so I thought we could have a little picnic instead, just the two of us,” you explained, taking Daryl's hand in yours and leading him over to the blanket. You motioned for him to sit down, following suite and getting comfortable on the blanket you had swiped from your mom's closet.

Daryl eyed everything around him curiously. The two of you were in a part of the forest he wasn't familiar with. It was rather surprising, considering he spent most of his time either at your trailer or in the forest, so seeing that you were able to locate a spot he didn't know was rather impressive.

The movement of your hand towards the picnic basket instantly peaked his interest. He watched as you pulled out an old portable CD player that your mom had gotten you a year prior, settling it onto the blanket and fiddling with a few buttons before pressing the play button.

Daryl's eyes widened when the melody to Ozzy Osbourne's “Crazy Train” flooded the relatively quiet air. His eyes met yours and he let out a shocked noise. “Where'd ya get an Ozzy CD?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back on the palms of your hands. “Mr Jones owed my mom a favour. She finally called it in and borrowed a bunch of music for us for this.”

“Ya got other artists?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Guns 'n Roses, Dio, Led Zeppelin, Metallica, Queen—”

“Ya got Queen?” Daryl questioned in amusement. “Ya know I dun' listen to 'em.”

“And you know that I don't believe that,” you countered, sending him a teasing smirk. “I've seen you quietly sing along when I play Queen in my room. There's no hiding the truth from me, Daryl.”

“Nah, yer only seein' things. Gotta get yer eyes checked out or somethin',” Daryl replied defensively, crossing his arms over his chest in mock annoyance.

You rolled your eyes and sat upright, reaching into the picnic basket to grab a sandwich to hand to Daryl. “Whatever you say, birthday boy.”

Daryl accepted the sandwich and took a bite from it, humming in approval at the taste. “Taste's real fuckin' good. Thanks.”

“Only the best on your birthday,” you mused, reaching into the basket to grab your own sandwich. “You deserve it. And as long as you have me around, we'll always celebrate it.”

Daryl gave you a small smile, taking another bite from his sandwich to avoid saying something that could potentially ruin the moment. As he looked at you, he couldn't help but admire you. From the beautiful colour of your eyes to the way your lips curved when you smiled, to the outfit you were wearing that day that hugged you in all the right ways. Everything about you in that particular moment was perfect, and Daryl found himself very confused at the feeling that entered his body. There was a strange knotting in his stomach when you met his eyes, and he froze at the weird sensation.

Thankfully, you started talking about some band you had discovered that snapped him from his thoughts, and Daryl pushed the strange feelings down. He wouldn't ruin a perfect moment with his best friend because of some stupid sickness he was getting. He would worry about his health later. For now, he would appreciate your company on a day that he rarely celebrated anymore.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Stay right here. I'll be right back.”

Daryl looked up at you in confusion when you got up from the blanket, the Lynard Skynyrd song that was playing in the background forgotten for the time being. “Wha' do ya mean? Where are ya goin'?”

“Just wait here. I need to go grab something I put here earlier,” you explained, turning on your heel and walking off.

“Ya sure ya ain't jus' gon' get yer gun to shoot me? I knew ya were plannin' on killin' me.”

“Very funny, Dixon.”

Daryl chuckled and shook his head, watching your retreating figure in wonder. He leaned back on the palms of his hands, humming along to the song playing. He looked around at the wildlife that looked even more beautiful in the light of the setting sun, content for the first time in a while. The day had been uneventful; he had spent most of the morning and early afternoon in your trailer watching movies while you were busy setting up the surprise for him, then he had a calm picnic with you, swapping jokes and stories, and after that, he would go back to your trailer for the night.

Daryl felt calm, and it was all because of you. All because you refused to let him spend yet another birthday on his own, cooped away in his room.

The rustling of the leaves alerted him to your presence. He looked up at you, instantly noticing the box in your hands.

“Wha's tha'?”

You sat back down on the blanket and extended the box to him, giggling when Daryl only eyed the box in suspicion instead of taking it. “Daryl, it's just a box. It can't hurt you.”

“Las' time someone handed me a wrapped box, I found a bunch'a spiders inside tha' crawled all over me,” Daryl told you, still refusing to take the box.

You shook your head and laughed lightly. “Let me guess, Merle?” When Daryl simply nodded, you continued. “I promise there aren't any bad surprises in here. Only a good one, I hope.”

Daryl hesitantly took the object from you and lowered it onto his lap, slowly starting to peel the wrapping paper away. Once the simple brown box underneath was revealed, he looked up to you, but was only met with an encouraging smile. He opened the box at a snail's pace, but once the object inside was revealed through the small opening, Daryl practically ripped the rest of the box open.

Daryl carefully picked up the object, inspecting it carefully as his eyes widened in surprise. He looked over at you again, a shocked smile on his face. “A Walkman?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, a smile on your face at his obvious excitement that your best friend failed to hide. “I know you've wanted one for a while now, so I spared up some money to buy one for you. It's not new because I didn't have seventy bucks to buy a brand new one, but it works and it's not all banged up. I made you a tape as well. It's already in there.”

Daryl looked surprised. Unwillingly, a few tears started to well up in his eyes, but he quickly wiped them away. There was no need for tears in a moment like that. He sent you a small, unsure smile, feeling that same strange feeling from earlier creeping up on him again.

“Thank you,” Daryl whispered, moving the Walkman around in his hands. “This is the best birthday I've ever had. S'jus'... Ya gave me somethin' I've been wantin' fer so long, even though ya didn't have to. Yer amazin'.”

Not realizing the true, deeper meaning behind his words, you leaned forward and hugged Daryl tightly, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Anything for you, Dar. You know that.”

Daryl hugged you back tightly, lowering his head to rest on your shoulder. Daryl's feelings hit him with the force of a hundred freight trains—he was falling for you. He was falling for his best friend, and he didn't even realize it until that moment. The only reason he realized it was because of the gift you gave him. And it wasn't the picnic or the snacks or even the Walkman. No, it was something much deeper than that, something much more valuable to Daryl than anything else in the world.

You gave him someone he could trust. You gave him someone he could go to with his problems, someone who never judged him or belittled him for feeling emotional. You gave him someone he could love without the fear of being disappointed, someone he knew would be there for him.

You gave him you, and that was more than enough for him.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[carolmunson]

8✨ with virgin Eddie cos he’s the loml

'I look you in the eyes, I try to read you thoughts. I ask you to go with me, to a far off place.' virgin!eddie (well, not so virgin anymore) from the 'the nerve' one shot. (18+, references to drinking. implied stancy wedding.)

Eddie didn't really love to dance. He always felt awkward, never really getting the beat to anything that wasn't related to a guitar slung across his chest. His hips always moved too jerkily, he never knew where to put his hands. When Mrs. Mitchell from across the park tried to teach him to waltz for prom he stepped on her toes so much she needed a brace.

It didn't even matter for anything, he didn't go to prom. That's another reason he doesn't like dancing, or dances. Couples nuzzling close while they hold their partners -- what was the point when no one was gonna dance with 'The Freak' anyway?

He drums his fingers along the white cloth covered table to the beat of the DJ's thumping music, sipping his third glass of pinot noir. You had stepped out to run an errand for Nancy and Steve after the ceremony, 'maid of honor' duties you called it. Something about fashion tape and bandaids for blisters. While the music slows down he feels his heart sink, another dance where he sits alone in the low light. It comes back to him in a haze, two months before his senior prom -- He woke up early to take a shower and shave the little facial hair that had started to grow on his upper lip and chin. Painstakingly finger coiling every wave on his head with gel he knicked from the five and dime down the street. He asked Wayne if he could borrow his smart black button down and Wayne even pressed it before he left for work the night before -- hanging it up in the living room by the mugs. He wore he least ratty jeans and cleaned his Reeboks with a toothbrush and bleach. Eddie had never felt more together, more sure, and if he would say so himelf -- more handsome than he did that morning.

He cracked open his campaign notebook to the last page where he'd scrawled a script he'd been working on for at least two weeks:

Hi Chrissy What's up, Chris? How are you, Chrissy? Hey Chrissy.

I know you might not be expecting this but This might come as a surprise, but I was wond It would be an honor if Would you want to go to prom with me? Prom?

It was the first time he was ever at a loss for words. Tripping over himself any time she'd ask for a pencil in Bio or walk by the drama room on her way to cheer practice.

He stopped at Melvald's for a small bouquet of daffodils -- it was all they had that morning, and made his way to school, stomach full of butterflies while he played the potential outcome in his head over and over. He knew he had to have caught her looking every now and again. Giggling at his jokes in class. Always asking him for a pencil or a ruler when she could ask anyone else.

He parks in the spot furthest from the school, using the brisk walk to calm his nerves. With a few rolls of his shoulders he pushes through the main doors to his locker, only four down from Chrissy's. She'd be there any minute, ponytail bouncing, lips glossed.

He leaned against the wall, checking his watch and each end of the hallway, a flurry of students making their way in and out. The humdrum of the morning making his heart beat faster, the slamming of metal, the sneakers on the tile.

And there she is -- a blonde beacon of something special. She's smiling -- grinning. Looking right at him. He gets up off the wall, heart racing -- This is it Munson, he thinks, you're gonna ask her.

Chrissy's smile turns into a jump, a celebration of sorts -- and from behind him, another cheerleader appears, running up and jumping with her. They hug tight, screaming the way girls do when they're excited about something.

"He literally made a sign for the whole team to hold on the field!" she titters, "I can't believe he asked me!" "You're going to prom with Jason! Ahhh!" her friend screams back.

Going to prom with Jason.

Jason Carver? That asshole?

The hallways spins, his heart has never dropped so fast before. He'd never felt something so fast before. Dissappointment? Embarrassment? Rage? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that Chrissy was going to prom with Jason Carver, and everything he planned was for nothing. Just standing there in the hall way with --

"That's a pretty bouqet, Eddie," Chrissy voice floats by, bringing him back to himself, "Whose the lucky girl?"

Coulda been you, he thinks.

His face sours, "Wouldn't you like to know."

Eddie's heart breaks again when she backs off, making her way to class when the bell rings. He chews on the inside of his cheek the whole way out of the school and back to his van -- making sure the shove the daffodils in the trash on the way out.

Right now feels the same, the only young guy sitting around while couples get up and jump around to Whitney's I Wanna Dance with Somebody when the music switches. He finishes his glass of pinot, sighing while he stands up to get another at the bar. He knows better, but something his gnawing in the pit of his chest -- that ache. He wishes you'd come back so he didn't have to keep putzing around like a lost puppy. Even Dustin had Suze out on the dancefloor.

Another ten minutes pass and he's settled back down at the table, the speakers rumbling down to a slow beat again, Luther Vandross's gentle croon floating over the room. Eddie swallows.

'Always and forever, Each moment with you, yeah Is just like a dream to me That somehow came true, yeah...'

It's then that he feels a warm hand on his back, sliding up to his shoulder, nails gliding comfortingly into the back of his hair. "Hi handsome," your voice like salve on his heart, "Did you miss me?" He turns, entranced by the way your dress hugs you and the scent of the perfume you have on tonight. There was no denying he picked right, no denying that he was right to wait for you this long.

"Of course, sweetheart," he smiles, smiling into the kiss you lean down to give him.

"You've just been sitting here while I was gone?" you furrow your brow, "C'mon, get up. Come dance with me."

He flushes, "No, no I'm...I'm not good at it..."

"Neither am I," you shrug, offering your hand, "C'mon."

He looks at your manicured nails, the bare finger that he wants to put a ring on now more than ever, then up at you. That little smirk you give him has never sold him quicker. With a deep breath he takes your hand, letting you lead him to the dance floor.

"Y'know, I've never slow danced with anyone," you say quietly, guiding his hand to your waist while you hold the other close to his shoulder. Eddie pulls you close, nose to nose, toe to toe. He can handle the gentle sway you start him with, a slow two step, winding bodies.

"Not even your ex? Seriously?" Eddie asks, mesmirized by your glossy lips.

"He never wanted to dance at the weddings we went to," you shrug, "Always thought it was lame. But I like to dance."

"What about prom?" he asks.

"I um," you look down and back up at him, "I didn't go to prom."

"No? How come?"

"Uh," you offer a tight smile in rememberance, accepting it, "No one asked me."

Eddie stops moving, hand holding yours going to your cheek. "No one asked you?"

You shake your head, "It ended up being okay, had a movie night with some other weirdos."

He remembers his own anti-prom with the guys, pizza and beer that he got Rick to buy for him.

"But it's okay," you reassure, "Cause now I get to have my first slow dance with you."

"We're doin' a lot of firsts together, aren't we?" he teases.

"Yeah," you nod, "And this is like, y'know, kinda like prom." "Sort of," he laughs, pulling you tighter, two stepping again to the rhythm. You give him a mischevious smile, teashing.

"Are you going to the after party? I hear they're gonna have winecoolers," you joke.

Eddie grins, boyish, "Oh yeah, yeah, I'll be there."

"Good 'cause uh," you lean to to whisper, giggling at your own bit, "They're gonna play seven minutes in heaven."

"No way," he gasps in fake astonishment, "Is there uh -- is there anyone you're hoping to land on?"

"Well um," you flick your eyes as him flirtily, "There's this one guy."

"This one guy?"

"Yeah and I was hoping like, after the dance." you continue in an exaggerated Valley Girl accent, "We could like, make out after."

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, voice deepening, smoky.

"Yeah."

"Yeah, we can um," he leans in to kiss you, deep and slow, "We can definitely make out after."

[satorkive]

REWIND: JUJUTSU TECH—2006

“gojo-sensei, i’m home.”

megumi who just got home from school called out for his teacher. his training with nobara and itadori ended a little bit late.

he found gojo sleeping in the couch with a laptop on. he stared at his teacher’s face with dry tears streaked on his cheeks. megumi who became curious because gojo didn’t let his vulnerability out and he’s probably crying because of something he had watched.

there were various tapes scattered around the table and the laptop had the pause button. he quietly placed himself in front of the laptop and pressed the play button.

in the beginning there was darkness, but a girl their age or probably older than them sat in front of the camera.

she looked pretty. megumi thought in awe. although there was a dull look in your eyes and your skin looked like blood had been drained out of you, you looked effortlessly stunning.

“satoru, if you ever watched this tape, i’m already dead.”

megumi slowly blinked at your blunt words. oh.

you let out a humorless laugh. “i’m sorry for my… vulgar words, satoru. i…” you looked down as you played with your fingers on your lap.

“y’know how i have this weird, but strong sense of intuition that always happened when i predict? i have that feeling—the exception is, i can feel it in my soul that i would already die. in this mission. that the higher ups assigned to me.”

the spiky-haired boy observed how you took a deep breath as if you were resisting the urge to burst out.

“i’m sad because i won’t be there to witness you slaughtering them.” you gave the camera a sweet smile.

your smile dropped and you looked away from the camcorder. the grainy effect made you look more… vintage. just a memory from the past. you were once someone’s person and now you were just someone’s memory…

“i’m sorry if i wouldn’t be able to fulfill my promise to you—to never leave you behind. i’m sorry if i wouldn’t be there to wipe your tears when you cry. i’m sorry if i wouldn’t be able to lend my shoulders for you to cry on. i…” your voice cracked and tears started to fall like crystals on your cheeks.

megumi could feel the pain she’s feeling and his lips turned into frown.

“i’m sorry if i was giving up, not bothering to fight for my life because to be honest, satoru, i ask myself at night with the question: who am i doing this for?”

when the teenage boy looked at you, he felt like you were seeing him. like you were sitting in front of him, asking a simple question.

“is it for the civilians so they won’t have to endure anymore? is it for the children so they won’t have to go to war anymore? is it for the future so they would be able to live a peaceful life? or…”

“is it for the selfish elders who send children to fight for the sins they have committed?”

oh.

“why do the children have to pay for their forefathers’ sins?”

a sob broke you out and megumi could only watch in pain as you went hysterical.

it was saddening to see you—a person who clearly the world doesn’t deserve—need to sacrifice your life for the betterment of the world.

that’s how a jujutsu sorcerer works, unfortunately. you clearly don’t belong in this world. in this cruel, awful world.

“whoever manages to find this tape, i hope you will take care of my friends—satoru, suguru, and shoko. i hope you will give them the patience to grieve and to mourn. i hope you will be able to give them the care and support they deserved. i hope you will be able to see them for who they are, and not for what they are. i hope you will be able to see hope during the darkest times. and i hope you will be able to feel grateful even if your life is just a borrowed time.” you tilted your head and delicately smiled.

you let out a last giggle. “this is [last name][name], signing off. goodbye.” you pulled the camera closer to your face and gave a smooch.

the laptop went black and megumi could only blankly stare at the wall.

what a world they live in.

such a life doomed from the start and they could only wait as death came for their friend.

what a… life.

you didn’t know then, your death is the beginning of all tragedies.